Day… 27… with, officially as of yesterday, the end of quarantine in sight, tomorrow night. But, as we all really expected, Presidente Fernandez extended it another two weeks, until the 26th of the month. And, of course, it may get extended further. Details about any other changes during this extension are sparse so far, and expected maybe sometime today, or Monday – I’m assuming no one’s going to make any official announcements on Easter Sunday.

The city of Buenos Aires’ mayor has already announced more severe restrictions, though I’m not clear if they’re obligatory or recommended – including that anyone over the age of 70 be in 100% isolation for the two week period – i.e., they can’t go out of their house for anything, and they have to make arrangements for someone to do their shopping and anything else for them, and that person can’t enter their home, nor can anyone else other than a healthcare worker, and the possibility that anyone on the street, for any reason, will be required to wear a mask (not that any are available, since the government, smartly, I would think, pulled the entire supply to distribute to healthcare workers and anyone else who has to be in constant contact with multiple people). Not clear if things like bandannas, scarves, and other homemade versions will be acceptable.

So, what do we have for your kitchen fun today? Tallarines rojos con pollo, or, red linguini (or spaghetti) with chicken. A classic Peruvian home cooking dish, with wide variations in how it’s made. This version is, more or less, the way Henry’s family makes it. First, a note – the noodles themselves are not red, but the sauce that the chicken is cooked in is, and it’s ladled over the pasta. It’s often served in what’s called a combinado, which simply means a combination – and there are numerous things that get combined, but in Trujillo, where he’s from, it’s a plate of this dish, with a side of ceviche.

A little history. There was a big Italian immigration to Peru in the mid-1800s, around 15,000 people, and a large percentage of them worked in the industry of exporting guano back to Italy, for use as fertilizer. Prior to the Italian immigration, this trade was entirely controlled by the British, but by the late 1840s, the Italians had supplanted them as the major exporters. And then, by the 1880s, the entire export operation had pretty much ceased to exist. Regardless, the Italian immigrants brought their own food traditions, but adapted them to locally available ingredients. This dish was loosely based on a classic marinera sauce.

Since we had ceviche leftover from the night before’s combinado of sole ceviche and homemade fettuccine and broccoli with a huancaina based sauce, he got to have his combinado.

 

Traditionally, the vegetables in this sauce, are grated finely. I opted for modern expediency and blitzed them really finely in the food processor. We have an onion, a couple of carrots, a couple of tomatoes, a whole chicken cut in pieces (or your choice of pieces of chiken – we often make this just buying a flat of chicken legs), a couple of cloves of garlic, about a cup of red wine, some rehydrated aji panca, red chilies pureed in the liquid they were rehydrated in (guajillos will work as a substitute), a half teaspoon of pepper, two teaspoons of cumin, one teaspoon of ground bay leaf (or 2 whole bay leaves), and a teaspoon of aji rojo in powder form, or, hot paprika; and, a package of spaghetti (actually a package and a half, because we had one open).

In a big pot, in our case, a dutch oven, brown the chicken pieces in a little oil. If you’re making a whole chicken, you’ll probably have to do this in 2 batches to do all the pieces. You just want them lightly golden, and then set them aside.

To the remaining oil (and melted chicken fat now), add the carrots, onion, and garlic, a good pinch of salt, and saute, stirring regularly, over medium heat. You’re going to do this for awhile – like 20 minutes. The idea being to completely caramelize and dry out the vegetables into what ends up amount to a sort of…

…golden brown dry paste.

Add the chili paste puree and cook until all the liquid is absorbed and it dries out again.

Add the red wine and cook for about 4-5 minutes.

Add the tomato and the spices, and maybe a teaspoon or so of salt – just taste it to see what it needs. Bring it just back to a simmer…

…and add the chicken pieces, along with whatever juices have drained off them, back into the pot, nestling them down. Cover the pot, turn the heat down to low, and cook for about 45 minutes, until the chicken is basically falling off the bone. Stir it up a couple of times, just to both evenly cook the chicken and make sure that it really absorbs flavor from the sauce. At some point in the midst of this, put your water on for the pasta, and get that cooking so that it’s ready at about the same time.

Taste and adjust seasoning, but if you adjusted earlier just before adding in the chicken to the pot, it should be good.

When the pasta is cooked, drain it, and toss it with a little butter or oil, and a ladle or two of the sauce, just enough to give it a light coating.

And, serve it up!