Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Arugula and Hazelnuts

As Cathy of NotEatingOutInNY.com points out in her introduction to this recipe, these three ingredients are a little obscure. I agreed with her when she wrote that they probably aren’t things you eat very often: sweet potatoes mainly at Thanksgiving and Christmas, arugula thrown incognito into salads, and hazelnuts strictly in Milka chocolate bars (yes, please).

A friend and co-worker happened upon this recipe, which happened to be from one of my favorite food blogs, Not Eating Out in New York. After hearing her very positive review, it seemed like the perfect weekend project. Sweet potato gnocchi. Now that’s scary.

The Recipe

Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Arugula and Hazelnuts from NotEatingOutInNY.com

Apprehension Meter

The meter reached a new peak with this recipe. The thought of trying to make any kind of noodle from scratch practically gives me hives, let alone making a noodle out of a potato. I went into this one almost certain that I would end up red-faced, swearing a little, and ordering pizza.

At least there were some easy ingredients to work with in this recipe, otherwise I probably wouldn’t have tried it. The three very basic ingredients in this recipe weren’t a bother. Sweet potatoes = easy. Arugula = easy (although I had never purchased any before making this dish). Hazelnuts = easy, but somewhat spendy.

Here’s How It Really Went

Oy. I didn’t end up red-faced and swearing, and I did finish the dish to completion, but let’s just say I did end up a little rosy-cheeked and distressed. This one was not easy. But I learned a few things that will hopefully help you and your novice cook friends out there.

First off, the recipe calls for one pound of sweet potatoes. I was surprised to learn, while weighing my produce at the grocery store, that this meant one large sweet potato. I had my doubts that one sweet potato would yield four servings of gnocchi. To my surprise, this big guy ended up certainly producing enough for three, maybe even four people.

I sliced the ends of the sweet potato to see its beautiful bright orange color, then plunked it in a pot of boiling water. Unfortunately, the recipe didn’t specify how long to boil the potato. ‘Until tender’ doesn’t mean much to a novice.

I found, doing a little pre-research, that it usually takes about 30 minutes for a boiled sweet potato to become tender. After plunking my little orange friend into the water, I set the timer for 30 minutes. After about 20 minutes had elapsed, I poked it with a fork and found that its skin was easily pierced. How easy! And it even took less time than I had read!

I plucked the potato out of the boiling water with a pair of tongs, peeled it using the tongs (it’s true- the skin does practically slide right off), and slid my knife through the middle, only to be met with a very solid, un-soft, un-cooked inside. Rats.

Unhappily, I added more water to the pot (some had evaporated during the first try), and watched the orange little bits that had fallen off the potato swirl around as the water re-heated into a boil. In went the semi-cooked sweet potato. For nearly 20 more minutes.

By this point, my cheeks were rosy, my living room windows were steaming up, and the whole apartment smelled slightly of baby food.

After pacing impatiently from the kitchen to the living room for 20 minutes (the Oscars were on), I re-plucked the potato from the water, and placed it in a glass bowl, to be mashed with a fork.

Now, the recipe specifically says not to do this, but I didn’t really have another option. In place of a food mill (I wish I knew what that was), the recipe says to press the potato through a strainer with a spatula. My strainer has large sporadic holes, not fine wire mesh, so that wasn’t really an option.

After mashing the potato, I threw in about a ½ cup of flour, which I folded into what was now turning into orange dough.

Another bump in the road: the recipe called for 1 cup of flour. I’m not sure where or how I went wrong, but I ended up using at least two cups just to get the dough to the point where I could form it into balls, then roll it into little logs without it sticking to my hands and everything else. This turned out to be okay. Be liberal with the flour- I found that, for me, it didn’t affect the consistency of the gnocchi a great deal.

The first gratifying moment of this recipe came once I sliced the logs into little bit-sized pieces, and scored them with a fork. They were actually starting to look like gnocchi.

Into another pot of boiling water they went, in two batches, and it was smooth sailing from there on out.

The arugula practically wilted itself, and the hazelnuts were easy to chop.

Once both batches of the gnocchi had been cooked and the arugula was sufficiently wilted, I added the gnocchi to the arugula pan, and sprinkled on the hazelnuts.

And the final product? Not much to look at, but it ended up tasting pretty good. But, I’m not sure the final result was worth the headache of making it all. I’ll probably try to make gnocchi again someday, and it’ll probably go much smoother the second time around, but for the novices: I would suggest saving this recipe for an evening when you want to get your hands dirty and feel particularly challenged, with only a moderate (albeit healthy) pay-off.