Cooking for 1 in a 2-Room Roman Airbnb

So far, I'm 0 for 2 in the Roman Airbnb scenario. 

In the last (and first) case, I booked a space that was perfectly adequate for my needs and had all the things I'd filtered for in my search: a place to cook, no shared conveniences (like a bathroom), a bed, air conditioning, proximity to where I'm working, and affordable. 

But when I arrived to get the key, I realized that there was no air conditioning. The host acted as if I had imagined it. Airbnb's site said otherwise. The host got an additional fan for me, so I had two. Every day I worked in 90-something degree heat, and came back to a studio apartment that was, admittedly, shielded from the hot sun at all times of day...With two fans after a cold shower, I could more or less handle the heat. Even when I contracted Covid. 

(and you know me: I fought like a tiger with Airbnb on the misrepresentation, secured a partial refund and a discount coupon. But let me say this: if you want progress in the area of customer service, take it up in the Twittersphere. That might work when nothing else seems to)

The kitchenette of that place was actually pretty optimal: a decent size fridge (with a freezer) for a European appliance, a small stove/oven, dishware, etc. 

I was also able to bring a few valuable tools and ingredients with me from our Rome apartment, since we were being packed up and moved. 

So I cooked and ate well, all things considered. 

This present Airbnb situation also has plusses and minuses. 

AC is present (believe me: I asked the host to be very sure). Also, a separate kitchen. Hot water refuses to reach the shower, however. In the September temperatures, this is not completely terrible, but it will become completely terrible if the host does not resolve it very soon. Airbnb has already had to engineer a refund and a discount code for the last disaster. I am sincerely hoping that I will not have to put up the same stupid fight again. (update: host reports that a part is ordered for the water heater...but supply chain disruptions abound, so who knows when it will get here? As a friend recently said to me: 100 years from now, we will still be blaming Covid for everything)

But in the meantime, I'm here in this place...this mostly quiet place, with mostly friendly neighbors, and a small swath of purveyors of the good things: the raw materials for cooking. 

So I am going to take you on this little ride. I will be cooking for one, in a 2 room Airbnb that has no oven, a dorm-sized fridge (the cubic type, so I also have no freezer) and an oddball set of pots and pans that have no properly fitting lids. 

I'm not going to get all fancy about this. This is, after all, still cooking for 1. I won't promise that I won't generate some leftovers sometimes. I'm used to cooking for 2 AND making leftovers of the good dishes. 

First up. A meal made of some gifted ingredients: porcini mushrooms and homemade fettucini.

This the most compact four burner cooktop I've ever seen...and the hood is additionally wee. But it all works. 

The porcinis from Umbria sauteeing in a little salt and olive oil. Salt draws out some of the moisture in the shrooms. Don't waste your EVOO on sauteeing, because that's not what its really for...use regular olive oil or some kind of flavorless vegetable-based oil.

Before they are ready, but they have begun to brown and have given up most of their moisture, I have also tossed in two chopped cloves of garlic. 

Don't hate me because I love garlic. 

Just ignore the garlic if you don't love garlic.

Happy to have found a box grater in the cabinet. Grated some 30 month old parmiggiano. About 1/3 cup.

The handmade fettucini needs only a little time to boil in heavily salted water (it should be so salted that it tastes like seawater). Also floating in there are a few slices of the mushroom stems, because I want the pasta to have some mushroomy flavor too. Note: with handmade pastas, you have to look out for boil-over. Keep an eye on the boil.

That's a lousy shot of a fetuccini noodle on the edge of a wooden spoon, backgrounded by dishes in the sink. I'm checking the noodle to see if it's al dente (with a firm center that is not yet mushy). It actually should be a little more chewy than al dente, because I'm going to put it into the pan with the sauteed mushrooms and it will cook a bit further. 

Sure, I drained the noodles. But before I did that, I ladled some pasta water and those cooked stem pieces into the saute pan with the cooked mushrooms. 

And with that water in there, I add some of the grated cheese. I want a salty/creamy sauce for my pasta, without using cream. This is the essential basis of cacio e pepe (cheese and pepper pasta), which also uses no cream. 

Everything cooks and further comes together, for just a couple of minutes.

ONE pat of butter in the watery sauce, which is starting to cohere. 

Sorry...there must be fat somewhere.

Just a minute or two more before tossing in the pasta, stirring very gently...more like folding...so as to not break up those delicate noodles. 

And once its tossed sufficiently, pour it onto a plate. Sprinkle on the rest of the cheese.

And eat.

You may not find this to be a heavily sauced pasta dish, if you tried it. Americans tend to drown their pastas. But the Italian point of view about this is that mushrooms are pungent enough without much help. Some rather pungent cheese is included, and that's all you really need. 

Stage 1 on a food journey in a small Italian apartment kitchen, which has plenty of limitations. 

Making do.

Or making the most of what can be done.