Green garlic cream pasta.

Though the title may read in such a way as to convey the use of green (i.e. immature) garlic, that’s not the case here. Instead, what I meant to say was that the dish itself is green, thanks to the use of spinach and peas. The spinach, especially if you’re using frozen like I did, will color the cream in the recipe slightly when cooking and create this pretty green sauce that will be left in the bowl and beg to be mopped up with crusty bread.

Then again, I wholeheartedly believe in the double-starch rule when pastas are served. It just isn’t the same without some crusty-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside bread.

Now, the recipe listed calls for whole wheat pasta and half-and-half, because I would ideally like to make it healthy while tasty. As the pictures show, however, I used regular enriched penne, and I will tell you that I used heavy (double) cream. The recipe is forgiving, and it was doubly tasty with added fat the heavy cream and enriched pasta gave me.

Oh, and before I go any further: Please forgive my poor color photo quality. My kitchen sucks when it comes to lighting.

Green Garlic Cream Pasta

original recipe

cooking time: 20-35 minutes (with proper prep)


1 c whole wheat penne, dry
1 pkg frozen whole leaf spinach, thawed and thoroughly drained
1 c frozen peas, thawed and drained
1 medium clove garlic, minced
1/2 c half and half or single cream
1 tbsp olive oil
grated Parmesan (opt)


Cook spinach and peas according to package directions and drain. Cook penne until just al dente, then drain and rinse with cold water. Mince garlic and sauté over medium-high heat in olive oil.

Add drained spinach and peas. Reduce heat to medium or medium-low, add 1/4 cup of cream and let simmer for 1-2 minutes.

Add pasta and remaining cream.

Season with salt and pepper to taste. Remove from heat and let rest for 2-3 minutes, then serve topped with Parmesan.

Makes 4 servings.

I threw all this together on a whim last night when I realized I had no prepared lunch for today (necessity is the father of invention?). I have no meat in the house at the moment, but I had greens that needed using so I figured it couldn’t hurt to get a little extra veg in my diet.

Normally I would use more cream without a second thought, but I think the half cup here is just enough. It doesn’t overwhelm the green with creaminess, and the clove of garlic is just enough to flavor the dish without making it supremely garlicky (although if you like more garlic, throw some more in there). It was perfect to reheat at lunch today, and very filling.

In hindsight, I might add dried herbs to the simmer next time – thyme or rosemary or somesuch, and maybe a little lemon juice. I feel like there’s a flavor element the dish is missing to make it absolutely perfect. I just haven’t figured out what it is yet. If I do, I’ll tell you. If you figure it out before me, let me know, please. I’m dying to know what it is.

Ancestral pound cake.

I promised pictures, and I shall deliver. However, the recipe will thus far remain mostly secret, to protect a selfish sense of pound cake imperialism in my family. I will tell you that it is a massive recipe in and of itself, requiring at least a 4-quart mixing bowl (preferably a 6-quart), a bundt and a classic loaf pan. It is quite literally a pound cake, being heavy and reasonably dense, but still light enough to eat without feeling like you’ve consumed concrete paste, as well as ridiculously moist and flavorful. I generally prefer my pound cake unflavored, unlike most of these heathens I’m surrounded by in Georgia who cling to their iced lemon-flavored cakes – bah. Blasphemy. Great-great-great-poppa had right idea with this unadorned creation.

Ignore that open space in the cake. A cook has to sample her work – or have someone else sample it for her, in this case.

As I’ve said, this was my great-great-great-grandfather’s recipe on my mother’s side. He owned and operated a bakery in Augusta, GA way back in the day (whenever that was) and this recipe has gone through the years to finally rest with me. I got the recipe (finally) from my mother about a year and a half ago, when I was looking for a pound cake recipe to make and couldn’t find one that I liked in my limited number of cookbooks. I adore this recipe, and I’ve only made it twice. The first time I made it, I actually managed to screw it up, probably by following the recipe according to very specific directions. Somehow, it never rose to its proper height in the pans, leaving an abominably tasty but ridiculously dense cake. (It made for wonderful grilled breakfast toast, by the way.) This time around, I did things my way and got a cake that overflowed it’s bundt boundaries just enough.

I took half the cake to the picnic concert last night, which was fun. Jessica made chicken salad (I want the recipe) and pimento cheese (I REALLY want the recipe) and brought hometown salsa, roasted tomato and olive oil Triscuits (tasty!), pop, a bottle of reasonably local wine that was very sweet in a good way, pitas, and macerated strawberries for the pound cake. The music wasn’t really bluegrass – I’d call it folk, but it was good. It was definitely an awakening experience. I had never known that so many hippies lived in the town I’m moving to. Or that none of them knew how to teach their kids proper manners.

At least they didn’t try to steal my cake. Them or their rude little young’uns.