Death of a Chocoholic (9 page)

Last night I was rifling through my old recipe file and I came across one that made me smile. Or at least it does now. Last summer . . . not so much.

It was right during the middle of tourist season on the island, and I read in the paper that one of my all-time favorite chefs from the Food Network was actually coming to Bar Harbor to hold a one-day cooking class. Well, needless to say, I immediately registered online for the class. There was no way I was going to miss an opportunity to meet my favorite kitchen master up close and personal.

Chef Carlos Ferucci was a guest chef on TV all the time and his handsome Italian good looks and sizzling sex appeal made him a favorite among women from all over the world. Many times I fell asleep on the couch while watching one of his shows, dreaming of the two of us cooking up a storm together . . . among other things.

Chef Carlos also owned a five-star restaurant in Portland, Maine, named L'aragosta (which sounds so sexy when he says it, but it really only means “lobster” in Italian). Everyone on the island who made the trip to Portland always tried to secure reservations and dine in his posh restaurant, which had become famous for the surprise twists in his Italian dishes.

There was no menu when dining at L'aragosta. You were served whatever original dish Chef Carlos created specially for that evening, which just added to the excitement. Well, that and watching him glide around the restaurant making sure all the diners were enjoying their mouthwatering meals.

The girls and I were lucky enough to get a table one night about a year ago during a shopping trip to Portland. I must admit when I saw him in person, I was a goner. He was even more handsome in person than on television!

When the day of the class finally arrived, I was the first to show up at the local Bar Harbor restaurant hosting his class. Eventually the other five women who also signed up arrived. I didn't know any of them. They were all summer residents, and much older than me. When Chef Carlos breezed through the door and said in his deep, sexy, Italian-accented voice,
“Buongiorno,”
I batted my eyes like a schoolgirl with a big crush. That was the moment I became determined to get this big hunk of beef to notice me with my cool attitude and mad cooking skills.

Chef Carlos got right down to business and requested that we all choose four ingredients that we felt did not go together and bring them back to our respective stations. I very carefully chose anchovies, bread crumbs, dried chili peppers, and chocolate.

Chef Carlos then surprised us. He ordered everyone to prepare a dish for him in sixty minutes. We were allowed to use other ingredients from the kitchen, but the four items we chose were mandatory for our dish. My eyes bugged out of my head! This was just like that Food Network show
Chopped,
and I definitely had not signed up for that at all! I never saw this coming! I glanced over at the other women, who had sly smiles on their faces. All of them suspected what the chef was up to, so they managed to pick predictable items such as canned tomato sauce, onions, green peppers, chicken. Everything to prepare the perfect pasta meal!

Chef Carlos yelled, “Go!” The other ladies scrambled off, giggling and laughing, to fetch whatever else would complement their dish. I just stared miserably at my chosen ingredients. This was going to be a disaster! I had no chance of winning!

I wish I could tell you I was the underdog who came up from behind to win the contest with my unique pasta creation! Sadly, however, it was not meant to be. When Chef Carlos got to my chocolate pasta with anchovies dish, he carefully took a bite, chewed, and looked deep into my eyes. I wanted to melt, but not in a good way. I wanted to melt and disappear into the floor. He then placed his fork down and, without a word, moved on to the next person, ultimately declaring Muffy's chicken artichoke pasta the winner.

Well, a few months later while I was preparing dinner, I was half listening to the television, which, of course, was tuned to the Food Network. As I was getting ready to place the meat loaf on the counter to cool, I heard a familiar, sexy, Italian-accented voice say, “This week I want to prepare ‘Chef Carlos's Chocolate Pasta with Anchovies,' which is the number one best-selling dish in my restaurant.” I let out a scream so loud that poor Leroy jumped down from the couch and raced out of the room. I dropped the meat loaf on the floor and ran to stand in front of the television, staring in disbelief as I watched Chef Carlos add all of the ingredients I had used that day to make my own chocolate pasta dish.

Now, I understand if you don't believe me, but I swear it's true. I guess I should just be flattered that a famous chef thought my culinary disaster was such a tasty dish that it is now the most popular item on the menu in his world-famous restaurant.

If ever there was a time for something to calm the nerves, this was it. I retrieved my new bottle of Marenco Pineto Bra-chetto d'Acqui, a sweet, sparkling red wine from Piedmont, which I had picked up at House Wine on Main Street on my way home that evening. I popped the cork and poured myself a glass. Raising it high into the air, I said, “
Salute,
Chef Ferucci! Until we meet again!”

 

 

1 pound penne pasta (or your
favorite pasta)
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 cloves garlic, chopped
2 dried chili peppers, chopped
8 anchovies, minced
2 cups good dark chocolate (at
least 70%), chopped
½ cup fine bread crumbs
Fresh parsley, chopped for garnish

 

In a large pot of salted boiling water, cook your penne. While pasta is cooking, in another saucepan, heat the olive oil on medium. Reduce to medium-low heat and add your garlic, being careful not to burn it. Sauté your garlic, add the chili peppers and anchovies. Cook until the garlic is golden and anchovies have almost dissolved. Add your chocolate. Stir until melted, then add the bread crumbs.

 

Just before your pasta is al dente, drain and add to the saucepan. Stir it all together, until mixed very well. Serve, topping with the fresh parsley.

 

As they say in Italy,
“Mangia!”