While picking up a bottle of wine from Di Palo’s in Little Italy, we asked Lou Di Palo for a pasta recommendation.  “This will be the best pasta you have ever tasted,” he assured us, presenting us with a burgundy box of perfectly coiled dried pasta.  “You can even eat it plain, it’s that good.”  Tonnarelli is similar to Spaghetti, except it has a square cross section rather than a circular one.  Convinced by his testimonial, we headed back to my place to make a simple Marinara sauce to accompany the pasta.

For a perfect, slow simmering Marinara sauce, you’ve got to peel off the tomato skin.  The first step is to cut an “x” on the bottom of each tomato, then blanch them quickly for 5 minutes.

Once blanched, they’ll be easy to peel.  Don’t forget to also cut off the little tomato nub on the top where it once connected to the vine.

Mince a healthy amount of garlic (I like my sauce nice and garlicky); 4 or 5 cloves is a fair amount.  Roughly chop up the tomatoes.

Josh very slowly and gingerly peeled 5 Roma tomatoes. Meanwhile, I feverishly minced the garlic.  “Um Josh.. can we do this a little quicker? I’m getting hungry!” I quipped impatiently.  “Veronica, if we make this quickly it won’t taste good.  You have to put love and care into the sauce,” Josh replied, gesturing with a half-peeled tomato in his hand.

After the peeling, chopping, and mincing is done, heat up a pan on medium high heat, add 3 Tbsps of olive oil, the finely chopped garlic, followed by the roughly chopped up tomatoes.

Stir it up!

Let the sauce reduce for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. By this point in the night, it was close to 9 pm and I was so ravenous that I began to gnaw on a few of the figs I had sitting on my counter to subdue my hunger.

We let the sauce reduce for 20 minutes, watching the tomatoes melt and liquefy into a chunky, viscous consistency.  The sauce reduced a lot, sinking an inch down from where it originally was in the pan, so if you like your pasta saucy, use more a few more tomatoes.

Tear up a handful of basil leaves and throw them into the sauce and stir some more. Adding the basil in last keeps the fresh basil flavor.

While the sauce is close to being fully reduced, boil a pot of salted water, add the Tonnarelli for about four and a half minutes for a perfect al dente.

Stir in the pasta into the sauce and add salt to taste.

FINALLY, the pasta was complete!  Just as I was at the brink of collapse, we filled our plates, crawled up the stairs to the roof and filled our howling stomachs with pasta.  Lou was right, it was some of the best pasta I’ve tasted — a perfectly buoyant texture with a rich egg flavor, and of course it was further enhanced with the lovingly made Marinara sauce.  And I have to admit, this was all totally worth the wait.

Di Palo’s Fine Foods
200 Grand St
(between Mott St & Mulberry St)
New York, NY 10013
(212) 226-1033

Hello World (to-Table fans). My name is Kelly, and I’m writing to you from my home away from home, Poughkeepsie, NY. My real home is actually in an apartment with my sister Veronica, creator of this blog. But I currently live with three friends in a house near Vassar College, where I am a student.

That’s enough about me. What about FOOD? Like my sister, I have acquired quite a refined palate, which is a blessing and a curse, as the dining hall that “nourished” me for four semesters is not cutting it anymore. Good-bye meal plan and hello kitchen!

After eleven hours of epic cleaning, the kitchen we inherited bloomed from a museum of ancient pot lids and broken George Foreman products to the real heart of the house. We cleaned and restocked the fridge, stuffed our pantry with bags of pasta and rice, and hung up new cutting boards and pans. This is where raspberry flapjacks are made at two in the morning, borscht is stewed between classes, and tea and coffee flow endlessly. Here is where the magic happens!

Last night, instead of reading books, I was thinking about the magnificent stock of produce we had in our refrigerator. My housemates and I purchased a farm share from the Poughkeepsie Farm, so every Saturday, we bring our tote bags to the farm and pick out ten pounds of fresh vegetables and then excitedly brainstorm recipes on the short car ride home. Having chosen three plump long Chinese eggplants, I was moved to introduce some of my mom’s home cooking to the house. One of my favorite dishes is incredibly simple: steamed eggplant stuffed with chopped scallions and drizzled with soy sauce and hot oil.

So I pushed all books and syllabuses aside, descended to the kitchen, turned on the radio, and began making dinner. I sliced our eggplants in half and steamed the halves for twelve minutes, making sure to also tend to the pot of Thai rice cooking away on the adjacent burner. After steaming the eggplants, I arranged them on a dish and gently cut each half longitudinally like a hot dog bun, creating a piping hot opening for me to stuff with chopped scallions. Then I heated up a couple teaspoons of canola oil. Having had a recent bad experience with oil while frying arepas, I made my housemate David spoon the oil over the dish of eggplant while I delighted in the sizzle of scallions instantly cooking upon impact from a distance. I then whisked up a mixture of soy sauce and chili sauce and poured it over each eggplant half.

The dish was served up with another simple favorite of mine: tomato and egg stir-fry. I sliced up an assortment of tomatoes from the farm and sautéed them in canola oil with a little salt and a sprinkle of sugar. While they cooked, I beat three eggs together and then added them to the wok, making sure to turn down the heat a little so that they didn’t cook too quickly. This way, the scrambled eggs mix with the juices of the tomatoes and develop a soft, silky texture.

For a third dish, I drained one can of baby corn, cut them into more manageable, even more baby-like pieces, and sautéed them lightly with garlic, spinach and a little bit of chicken stock. When the final dish was done, we brought them all out to the porch with a big steaming pot of rice and a pitcher full of Poughkeepsie’s finest tap water.

The vegetables from the farm were amazingly sweet. The steamed eggplants came out soft yet firm. They soaked up the sauce on the plate, leaving not quite enough for all of us to spoon over our rice. The juices from the cherry tomatoes flavored each tuft of scrambled egg, and the spinach and corn retained a crispness that accompanied the other dishes wonderfully. My housemate Lily declared this was “way better than Hunan Village!”

Eating these dishes (and hearing the clinking of chopsticks against rice bowls) reminded me of having dinner with my own family. As the four of us chowed down, I felt so contented that I had left the dorms to come live in this house. Here, I can evoke the comforts of home and share them with friends. And better yet, my friends did all the dishes and I was gifted an ice cream sandwich for dessert.

Umi Nom is a long, narrow restaurant, with a dark wood bar, exposed brick walls, and Edison light bulbs hanging from the ceiling.  Some of the Asian-themed design accents in the restaurant include the funky bamboo lighting above the bar and white ceramic wall decorations with small dotted lights running through what resembled the cross-section of bamboo.

There’s a lot of soul in every bite of each flavorful small plate.  Drawing inspiration from his Filipino and Thai roots, King’s food celebrates the notion of family, which he shares with us through his cooking.  Our table was near the back of the restaurant, giving us a premium location to sneak a peek into the kitchen, where I could catch a glimpse of King’s family hanging out beside him and tasting some of the dishes themselves, looking on as the chefs with bandannas prepped and cooked away.

Here’s a preview of what’s cooking at Umi Nom:

asian market greens sauteed greens & garlic were cooked in a wok under extreme heat for a short amount of time, so they were not oily, but rather crispy, garlicky, and smoky

wok prawns chili glazed were saucy and slightly piquant from the birds eye chili.  Be sure not to waste the shrimp head, slurp up those shrimp brain juices!

grilled mackerel toasted rice, cherry tomato, jicama, garlic-chili lime dressing had a crispy, charred skin and that delicious fishy mackerel taste.  Overall the dish could have used a bit more tartness, although I did enjoy the crunchy jicama.  Perhaps the mysteriously missing toasted rice would have added more to the dish.

bahay kubo fried rice stir fried rice, egg, soy, garlic was one of my favorites. I’m not sure which ingredient gave the fried rice a sucker punch of umami, but I would gladly eat it again.  The fried rice was salty, shrimpy, and had pieces of Chinese sausage which added a sweet component to the dish.

charred beef rice vermicelli cold rice sticks, herbs, cucumbers are a nice combo of medium rare steak and rice noodles, with crunchy mung beans and herbs.  This lighter dish counterbalanced the heavier meaty dishes.

sauteed chinese sausage thai chili-lime sauce is King’s specialty and is the only dish served at both Kuma Inn and Umi Nom..because it’s SO GOOD.  Unlike the Chinese sausage usually found in Chinatown, which is skinnier, sweeter, and more dense, this meaty sausage has a more subtle sweetness.  Stir fried with shallots and garlic, then dipped in the Thai chili-lime sauce, the sweet, salty, and tart come together beautifully.  The sticky rice on the right is really sticky and really good.

grilled pork chops pickled vegetables were exquisitely juicy and tender.  The dish had a good ratio of meat to pickle.

crimini mushroom tofu skewers scallions lacked a little something, but it was still pretty good.  I’m a bit partial since I’m a big meatlover.

shitake mushrooms soy mirin glaze consisted of sweet and meaty mushrooms swimming in soy mirin sauce.

(sorry, this photo came out really dark and unrecognizable!) bbq ribs garlic, ginger, lemongrass, oyster sauce marinade were cut into small easy-to-manage riblettes.  Nice and juicy with a crispy, charred crust.

chilled summer fruit soup consisted of watermelon and canteloupe balls, lychee, and plums in a sweet, chilled lemongrass soup.  A light and sweet conclusion to my dinner at Umi Nom.

Umi Nom
433 DeKalb Ave between Classon Ave and Taaffe Place
Brooklyn, NY
718-789-8806