By Marcia Pilgeram
Reader Columnist
In the last column, I was lamenting the fact that I was long overdue for some local eatery meals, chiefly because I’d been traveling a lot. Trust me when I say I made up for lost time, with one meal (and no remorse), feasting on an eight-course (plus a dessert trio) at Pack River Store. Chef Alex Jacobson and co-proprietor wife Brittany have turned the Pack River Store into a local culinary legend. A place where “gas-station food,” as Alex likes to call it, means “gastronomy station” to me.
A few years ago, professionally trained chef Alex began offering the P.R.S. Tasting Menus, presented on two consecutive evenings each month, from fall through spring. To say it’s popular is an understatement, evident by the repeat customers sitting beside me at a long, family-style table.
Their latest tasting dinner (No. 78) was Italian. Alex and Brittany had just returned from a family trip through Tuscany, daughters in tow, and brought their pasta-making inspiration home to Pack River. The first of two nights sold out almost immediately. I somehow lucked into the last seat for the first dinner. The timing couldn’t have been better — in two weeks, I’ll be heading to Italy myself — air-travel gods permitting — to attend the White Truffle Festival in Alba.
But for one chilly night in North Idaho, I didn’t need to cross the Atlantic. Italy came to me.
The evening opened with veal tonnato, a classic of northern Italy: paper-thin slices of chilled veal bathed in a silky tuna sauce with capers, anchovies, lemon and olive oil. It’s an odd marriage on paper — meat and fish — but, in Alex’s skilled hands, the flavors were a match made in heaven.
Course after course followed. There were four pasta courses, homemade and hand-rolled. I paced myself.
The pappardelle with duck ragu was pure comfort. Wide handcut noodles were served with a sauce of duck leg, slow-cooked in white wine, sage, garlic and lemon, finished with fried rosemary and ricotta salata.
A buttery brioche with lemon curd arrived next, a tart interlude between courses. The tortellini in brodo may have been my favorite. The braised pork-filled tortellini rested in an absolutely crystal-clear broth, steeped in flavor.
Then came cacio e pepe, including just three ingredients: pasta, pecorino Romano, and black pepper. Alex got it right. He cut the spaghetti on a chitarra, a stringed pasta cutter that gives it just the right bite.
The chicken saltimbocca followed, wrapped in prosciutto and sage, cooked in white wine and butter, and finished with gremolata. The name means “jump in the mouth,” and this one did exactly that.
By the time the bistecca arrived — a three-inch Woods Meats T-bone steak cooked over charcoal, with rosemary potatoes. I was well past full, but entirely unwilling to stop. The steak’s crust was smoky and the potatoes crisp. This course was served family-style, and my only regret was not snagging one of the bones everyone else was taking home “for their dog.”
Dessert arrived as a trio: a liquid nitrogen gelato that Alex theatrically fogged for a mesmerized audience, a silken panna cotta (cooked cream) and a tiramisu. It was all crazy good.
Now I know for sure that I need a liquid nitrogen tank for my own home use. Oldest daughter Ryanne thinks that it would be a good replacement for my oversized blow torch (I do have a reputation, though it has never required the assistance of the local fire department). I was thinking more like an addition to the torch. And now, visions of baked Alaska dance in my head (imagine the opportunity to use both apparatuses for one showstopper dessert).
For dinner, I was seated next to Brittany, her mom and her sister, who are restaurateurs, too, running Nadine’s Mexican Kitchen in Athol (more fantastic food, by the way). Between bites, we swapped kitchen stories and restaurant war tales. There’s a kind of shorthand language between people who’ve lived that life — the chaos, the creativity, the exhaustion. If I was 20 years younger, I would have begged Alex for a shift on the line, just to be part of it once again.
Alas, nowadays, I am mostly content to take a front-of-the-house seat — though, I am not passing the (blow) torch just yet. Packing for my upcoming trip to Italy, I’ve been inspired this week to whip up a few of my own Italian dishes.
If you don’t have the time or hankering to roll out some labor-intensive pasta, try Tuscan bean ragù as a delicious alternative. It’s a favorite comfort side dish of my vegetarian offspring (though I add meat stock when I’m preparing it for myself). Either way, give it a try. Buon appetito!
Tuscan bean ragù
Tuscan-style cannellini beans are a creamy side, and a good alternative to potatoes, rice or pasta. Add depth with the herbs, and a slow simmer to create a rich, garlicky olive oil base. Delicious with roast chicken, braised beef or lamb. Serves: 4
Ingredients:
• 2 14-oz. cans cannellini beans, drained and rinsed
• 4 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil (plus extra for drizzling)
• 3-4 cloves garlic, thinly sliced
• 1 small red onion or shallot, finely diced
• 1 tsp tomato paste
• 1 14-oz. can good quality Italian chopped tomatoes
• ½ tsp chili flakes
• 1 tsp fresh rosemary, finely chopped
• 4-5 sage leaves, chopped or whole
• ½ cup chicken or vegetable stock
• Sea salt and cracked black pepper
• 1 tbsp butter
• ¼ cup fresh grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
• Zest of ½ a lemon
Directions:
In a wide skillet or shallow saucepan, warm the olive oil over low heat. Add onion and cook 5–6 minutes until soft and sweet. Add garlic and cook gently until fragrant and just golden (don’t brown the garlic).
Stir in tomato paste and cook 1–2 minutes to caramelize slightly. Add chili flakes, rosemary and sage. Stir until fragrant.
Add the chopped tomatoes and season with salt and pepper. Simmer uncovered on low for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until it thickens.
Stir in the drained cannellini beans and stock. Simmer gently for another 15-20 minutes, stirring often, until the beans are creamy and have absorbed the tomato-herb flavors. You can mash a few beans against the pan side to thicken the sauce naturally.
Adjust seasoning. Stir in the butter and a drizzle of olive oil. Transfer to warm serving vessel.
Sprinkle on Parmesan, add lemon zest.
Dining and Cooking