It seems like all I ever do lately is complain about the heat?  Well, that’s because it’s HOT here, people!  Really, really hot.  And humid.  Hot and humid is miserable.  Thus, I am miserable too. Hot, cranky and miserable!   Yes, I know it could be worse.  The grass is always greener and all that.  But in this case, the grass actually is greener somewhere else.  Because it is so damn hot, our grass is mostly brown these days – brown and crunchy and sad.  I know that compared to much of the country, this place is considered a paradise.  But, living in paradise does have its drawbacks.

Heat makes me tired – and lazy.  I don’t feel like going anywhere or doing anything, including cooking.  Except for making ice cream.  Does making ice cream count as cooking?

But still, we have to eat, and I can only get away with heat-related cooking reprieves for just so long.  So, I’ve been resorting to lots of salads and other quick dishes that don’t require a lot of effort on my part.

One of the easiest ways to get a meal on my table in a short amount of time is to make pizza.  All you need is the dough, a stocked fridge and some imagination.  And, I’ll let you in on a little secret: I buy my dough.  Sure, I know how to make it from scratch, and I sometimes do – when it’s cold outside, and I’m in a good mood.  In fact, my favorite recipe can be found here.  But, I’m sure not going to go to all of that time and trouble making homemade pizza dough in the dead of summer, especially when I can buy some great stuff at several local pizzerias and bakeries.  I can even find an acceptable product at my neighborhood supermarket.

Pizza is a lifesaver because you can put just about anything on it – even leftovers -  and it will almost always taste good.  I’ve made a lot of pretty great pizza using some rather unconventional toppings, like leftover pulled pork, picadillo and even fruit salad.  Last Friday night, I think I created my most interesting and delicious concoction yet, and it all started with a leftover container of Chinese takeout.

I’d been having one of those terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days, and all I wanted to do  was go home, turn the a/c down to 68 degrees and crawl into a cool corner.    I would rather have chewed on broken glass than go back out and sit in a restaurant.  So, I called an Italian bakery that was on my way home and asked if they had any pizza dough left.  They did, and I swung by to pick up a few blobs.

After I got home, I foraged around in my kitchen to find something to put on my pizza.  I decided to make one pie with the last of my homemade ricotta and some tomatoes from my garden.

Coming up with the fixings for the other pie wasn’t so easy.  I guess I hadn’t been shopping in longer than I’d thought.   And then, I spied a small container of Szechuan Eggplant with Garlic Sauce leftover from the night before.  There wasn’t enough to make a meal out of, but there was plenty to top a pizza with.  So that’s just what I did.

I’ll admit, I was a little concerned about how that pizza would turn out.  But OMG!  It was out. of. this. world.  Seriously!  Mr. SGCC and I couldn’t stop eating it.  In the oven, the sauce thickened and the eggplant and onions got all melty and caramelized.  It had a subtle sweetness that cut right through the sharpness of the garlic.  Who would have ever guessed that a container of half-eaten Chinese takeout could be turned into such an amazing pizza?  Color me gobsmacked!

I’m leaving you with not so much a recipe, as a guide.  Don’t feel obligated to run out to your corner Chinese place for Eggplant in Garlic Sauce.  That is, unless you really love Eggplant in Garlic Sauce.  In that case, go right ahead.  If you don’t, however, any number of different dishes would work just as well on a pizza, like Moo Shu Pork or Beef and Broccoli.  (I wouldn’t try it with wonton soup, though.  Just sayin’.)   It doesn’t even have to be Chinese.  I’ll bet Butter Chicken or Saag Aloo from your favorite Indian restaurant would be great options as well.

I suppose that the moral of this story is that we need to keep our minds open to new things, especially when it comes to food.  Sometimes flavors that we would never think of mixing together can be a fantastic combination.  And also, that no matter how crappy your day has been, a fabulous pizza can put it all in perspective.

It seems like we have zucchini coming out of the woodwork these days!  Everyone has it growing like mad in their gardens and no one can use it up fast enough.  I happen to adore zucchini, but even I’ve been feeling a bit challenged trying to find some different and interesting ways to use it.   And then, I found the recipe for this cake – Zucchini Olive Oil Cake with Crunchy Lemon Glaze.   The moment I saw it, I knew I had to make it.

This is not your typical, dense, leaden loaf of zucchini bread, people.   No, no, no!  It is cake. Real, honest-to-goodness cake, with a moist, light and delicate crumb drenched in a lovely sweet-tart lemon glaze.  And, it is heavenly! 

It all starts with the usual cast of cake ingredients, like flour, sugar and eggs.   There are also a few special guest stars, like coarsely grated, fresh from the garden zucchini…

And, some fragrant, fruity extra-virgin olive oil.  Yes, olive oil.  In cake!

Let’s not forget the crunchy, yummy toasted pecans.  How could anything not be wonderful with toasted pecans?

I’ll admit it doesn’t look like much before being baked, but just wait until it comes out of the oven…

And it gets a nice slathering of that delightful lemon glaze.

WOWZA!

Seriously folks, this was one of the tastiest cakes I’ve ever baked – and there was no chocolate ganache or Swiss buttercream in sight.  Even Mr. “I Don’t Eat Sweets” SGCC indulged in two slices – and that’s saying something!

I have to say, I was a little leery about using extra virgin olive oil  in a cake.  I was afraid that flavor would be too assertive, but it wasn’t.  In fact, if I hadn’t known it was in there, I wouldn’t have ever guessed.   On its own, the cake has a slightly earthy, mellow quality to it, and is not overly sweet.  The lemony glaze, however, is what really gives this cake its va va voom.   A mixture of granulated and confectioner’s sugars is what supposedly gives the glaze its crunch.  Although I thought the glaze was really delicious, I have to say I didn’t find it to be particularly “crunchy”.  But, I didn’t care.  It is a luscious glaze adorning a fabulous cake.  Who could ask for more?

Until recently, I never understood some people’s fascination with biscotti.   My parents loved them.  I did not.  To me, they were long, thick, rock-hard bricks with a peculiar licorice taste, obnoxiously trying to pass themselves off as cookies.  They didn’t fool me, though.  Whatever they were, I was certain that they were not any kind of  cookies I was interested in.

When I was a kid, every Sunday dinner was finished off with a pot of espresso and a plate of those obnoxious biscotti – always Stella d’Oro brand.    Every self-respecting Italian housewife kept a stash of Stella d’Oro cookies in her pantry, including my mother and my nonna.   You know, in case anyone happened to stop by.    God forbid someone should stop by for coffee and there were no cookies or cake to serve with it!    Tongues would wag for weeks!

As they sipped their espresso, the adults would dunk the biscotti into the thick, dark liquid and eat  them.  Gah! The only thing worse than biting into one of those jaw-breaking biscotti, was biting into one turned to mush by strong black coffee.  To this day, the thought of it makes me cringe. 

It wasn’t until I began blogging that I realized that all biscotti were not the same.  In fact, homemade biscotti were kind of wonderful.  You can flavor them however you like, and stud them with all kinds of dried fruits and nuts – or even chocolate.  And, instead of being as hard and tough as granite, they could be delightfully crunchy.  The best part is, that biscotti are not hard at all to make at home, so you can have nice, fresh ones whenever you want.  You never have to keep cellophane-wrapped packages of that other kind in your pantry again.

Perhaps, if my mother and grandmother had baked their own biscotti from scratch, I would have discovered their allure at a much earlier age.  Think of all the years I wasted hating them!  Unfortunately, except for certain holiday specialties, neither Mom nor Nonna were much into baking.  Such a shame…

Since I began baking my own biscotti, I’ve tried several different recipes.  Over time, I’ve taken a pinch from some and a dash from others and come up with a “go to” recipe that I really like.  The basic recipe stays the same, although I switch the various add-ins based on what I have on hand and whatever my whim is that day.  For these, I’ve used toasted almonds and plump dried cherries.  I think think that this is my favorite combination of all.   The cherries add a little chew and a touch of tartness to balance out the sweet.    The texture of the biscotti is light, but super crunchy.  And, there is no danger of chipping a tooth on one!

I like to add a little Fiori di Sicilia to these biscotti as well.  It’s a little difficult to describe, but Fiori di Sicilia is an Italian flavoring that has notes of vanilla and citrus.  Think of an orange creamsicle and you’re on the right track.  It literally means “flowers of Sicily”.   I get mine at King Arthur Flour, but you can simulate the same flavors by mixing 2 parts vanilla extract with one part each of orange and lemon extracts.  It smells heavenly and gives the biscotti a certain special something.

The key to a biscotti’s signature crunch is that they are baked twice.  The first time, they’re baked in one long log.  Then, they sit and cool off for a while.  After that, they are sliced into bars and baked again until they get all browned and crispy.

Here they are getting ready for round two.

Even though I do sometimes serve my biscotti with espresso, I never dunk.  I’m convinced that the reason my parents did is because the ones they had were so damn hard.  These biscotti are toothsome, but with one bite they yield into lovely, crumbly bits of deliciousness.  Move over Stella d’Oro.  There’s a new game in town.

There’s a popular story that’s been floating around my family for years.  My mother revels in telling it, and every time she does, it elicits a mixture of nervous laughs, horrified looks and hasty signs of the cross.  It’s about my mother’s childhood BFF, Rosie.  Rosie and my mom lived next door to each other while growing up, and for most of that time were inseparable.  They played with each other’s dolls, did each other’s hair and practically lived in each other’s houses.  Rosie wasn’t Italian, but my nonna loved her anyway.  After Rosie and Mom graduated from high school, my  mom began dating my dad and Rosie met a nice boy named Tommy.  Of course, they did a lot of double dating too.  And, when they both got married, they were each other’s maids of honor.

After a while, Rosie and Tommy bought their first house out in Long Island and moved away.  Since not many young couples had cars back then, Mom and Rosie didn’t see too much of each other anymore.  So, it was a huge deal when my father bought his first car, and we excitedly drove out to “the island” for our first visit to Rosie and Tommy’s place.   

Now, here is where I need to give you a little background information in order for this story to make sense.  For those of you who don’t know, my father was an Italian immigrant.  He was born and raised in a little hill town halfway between Rome and Naples.  Life in the Italian countryside in the mid-20th century was rustic, at best – especially during World War II.  My father grew up on a farm and everything his family ate, they grew.  Each year during tomato season, all of the women in the village canned tomatoes for use throughout the rest of the year.  They’d never even heard of tomato sauce from a jar, and I’m sure that the very idea would have been abhorrent to them.

My mother’s family was from the same hometown as my father.  When he came to this country in 1956, he naturally settled in the same area as my Mom’s family and the rest of the “paisans” from home.    They carried their food traditions with them across the ocean, and cooked the way they did back in the old country – with fresh, unprocessed, whole foods.   And, every year the women still got together for a marathon tomato preserving session.  The hundreds of jars of tomatoes it yielded were stored in their basements and garages while waiting to be cooked into luscious gravies and sauces made from scratch.

Okay. Back to the story…

So, there we were, out at Rosie and Tommy’s house on Long Island – only I don’t really remember it because I was barely a toddler.   Dinner time came rolling around, as it always does, and Rosie prepared a meal for us.  Now, here’s the kicker.  She opened a jar of Ragu Pasta Sauce, poured it over some boiled spaghetti and put it in front of my “barely off the boat” Italian father.  Oh, yes she did!  Rosie served my father tomato sauce from a jar.  And, this was the sixties.   Jarred tomato sauce wasn’t what it is today.  There were no premium, all natural, gourmet brands.  Just Ragu.  I may have been just a little tyke, but even I knew that serving Ragu to Italian dinner guests was a great, big no no.

My father, being the gentleman that he was, choked down a few bites and then devoured the salad as he sidestepped the canned green beans.  My mother, on the other hand, was absolutely outraged.  Never, even on her worst day, would she serve Ragu – and to company, no less!  Fai scumbari! But, they both held their tongues, muddled through and hoped for a better breakfast.

The next morning, when Rosie whipped out a jar of Tang to make my parents some “orange juice”, my mother announced that I had “swollen glands” and that we had to leave.  On the way home, we stopped at White Castle for a bag of burgers and vanilla shakes.  That was the last time we went to Long Island.

Rosie and Tommy came in to the city to visit us several times after that, and my mother always made sure to demonstrate the “proper” way to feed guests.  No jars, no cans and definitely, no fake orange juice!

After the story I just told you, you will probably find what I’m about to say shocking.  But, every once in a while I – the fruit of my mother’s womb – do, in fact, use jarred tomato sauce.  I know that this must be quite a blow to some of you, but before you boil me in extra virgin olive oil, hear me out.

Although homemade tomato sauce isn’t difficult to prepare, a good meat sauce does take some time.  When I do make a sauce from scratch, I usually make a lot so that I can freeze some for later.  However, sometimes I run out.  And, sometimes I’m just really feeling tired and lazy.  When that happens and I want a bowl of spaghetti with meat sauce, I buy a couple of jars of a good quality premium sauce to use as a base and jazz it up.  A few of my favorites are Rao’s and Dell’Amore brands.

I start out by browning ground beef and Italian sausage meat.  Then, I add lots of onions and fresh mushrooms.  I stir in some white wine and simmer it all together until the wine evaporates.  Then, I add the tomato sauce and fresh basil and heat it through.  That’s all there is to it.  In the time it takes to make the pasta, I have a rich, hearty and incredibly tasty meat sauce ready to go.   And, I’m telling you that if I served this dish to you, you wouldn’t know the difference.  My quick and easy meat ragu is so delicious that my father probably even wouldn’t be able to tell!

Let’s face it.  We’re all busy people and sometimes we take shortcuts in our kitchens.  The trick is to find shortcuts that don’t sacrifice quality and flavor in the process.  My meat ragu doesn’t.  And, I can guarantee one thing.  It’s better than Rosie’s!

I’ll let you in on a little secret.  Even though I grew up in an Italian family where more than half of my relatives, including my father and grandparents, were actually from Italy, I had never heard of mascarpone until I was an adult and discovered it for myself.  Shocking, isn’t it?  But, it’s true.  For some reason none of the cooks in my family ever used the stuff.  How could this be?  Well, the only answer that I can come up with is that none of them were big bakers, and mascarpone is more commonly used in sweet dishes.   Also, since my family came from the southern half of the boot, most of the food out of their kitchens was tomato and olive oil based.  Except for ricotta and fresh mozzarella, very little of anything creamy was ever used in cooking.

My grandmother was diabetic, so she really never served much in the way of desserts outside of fresh fruit platters and some sfogliatelle or cannoli picked up from one of the neighborhood pastry shops.   I guess she figured why make luscious desserts that she couldn’t enjoy herself, especially when there were so many excellent bakeries within walking distance.  And, because she didn’t bake or make lots of sweets, none of her four daughters ever did either.  They bought their cakes, tiramisu and pastries too.  I guess you could say that our entire family did its part to keep the local bakeries in business.   Heck, I’d probably do the same thing if I had access to all of those wonderful Italian treats!  Sadly, here in my neck of the woods that is not an option.  If I want to enjoy authentic, mouthwatering Italian delights, I have two options.  The first is to buy them at the one and decidedly “meh” Italian bakery in town.  The second is to make them myself.  Sometimes, I choose option one, but most of the time I go the DIY route. 

Even though the cooks in my family leaned towards the savory side of food, there were some notable exceptions.  There were always homemade cookies and struffoli at Christmas time,  and Pizza Rustica and Pastiera di Grano for Easter.  There was also this Italian Ricotta Cheesecake that made an appearance every so often.  I remember my mother poring over her Polly-O cookbook while churning out her version of cheesecake – Italian-style.  This cheesecake bears little resemblance to the super rich and dense variety that most of us are familiar (and maybe a little obsessed) with.   Instead of cream cheese, the primary ingredient in this cheesecake is ricotta cheese.  Using ricotta makes for a much lighter and fluffier cake, but also one that has a significantly less smooth and creamy texture.   Honestly, I was never the biggest fan of my mother’s ricotta cheesecake, but my father loved it.  He wasn’t a big dessert guy, and this cake was one of the few he truly enjoyed.   So, when I think of  it, I think of him.  That’s why I wanted to share it with you.  And, that’s also where the mascarpone comes in.

As I mentioned, I am not overly fond of the traditional ricotta cheesecake.  I mean I like it, but it doesn’t send me to the moon.   The flavors are lovely, but there’s just a slight graininess and wetness about it that puts me off.   When I conceived the recipe for this cheesecake, one of the things I wanted to achieve was smoother, creamier consistency – more like its New York-style cousin.  Adding cream cheese didn’t work because I felt it gave the cake too much of a sharp edge.  The flavor profile of an Italian cheesecake should be subtle, mellow and a little lazy, reminiscent of sunny afternoons enjoying la dolce vita in the Italian countryside with the scent of Sicilian orange blossoms wafting by on a breeze.   Nope.  Cream cheese wasn’t the answer.  But, mascarpone was another story.  Its silky, luxurious quality with the barest hint of sweet cream was exactly what my cheesecake needed!  So, in this recipe I have swapped out a pound of the regularly used ricotta for mascarpone.

Besides the ricotta, another signature ingredient found in an Italian ricotta cheesecake is orange flower water.  Orange flower water is a clear, perfumed distillation of fresh bitter orange blossoms that is widely used in Mediterranean dessert dishes.   It is incredibly fragrant and its flavor is quite distinctive.  It is more floral than citrusy.   You can try using orange extract instead of orange flower water, but there really is no substitute.  It’s available at most Italian and Middle Eastern markets, as well as online.

Oh, how I wish you could have been in my kitchen while my cheesecake was baking!  I’m pretty sure that the heady aroma of vanilla and orange blossoms would have made you swoon.  I did.  And, if you had been there, you would have also gotten to taste this dreamy confection.  It was marvelously smooth and rich, and yet lighter in texture than I expected it to be.  The mascarpone didn’t weigh it down.  It pulled the rest of the ingredients together and enhanced them.  This will definitely be my “go to” ricotta cheesecake recipe, now and forever.  I only wish that I could have shared a slice with my father.  I know he would have loved this version just as much as Mom’s.

Everyone knows that Valentine’s Day is synonymous with chocolate.  It’s the food of love.  Who doesn’t melt a little when presented with one of those precious little heart-shaped boxes on this day when we celebrate love and romance?  But, chocolate isn’t only for the sentimental.  It’s big business too.  In fact, in these days leading up to V-Day, American consumers are expected to buy more than 58 million pounds of chocolate, and shell out around $345 million dollars to do it.  That’s a lot of chocolate!

But what about those of us, myself included, whose sweethearts don’t have a sweet tooth?  (Yes, Mr. SGCC, I’m talking about you!)  Don’t they deserve a rich, delicious, velvety chocolate token of your affection too?   I think so, and that is why I’m excited to share this pasta dish with you. 

I saw TV chef, David Rocco, prepare this Penne al Cioccolato con Acciughe, or Chocolate Penne with Anchovies, on his show a few days ago, and it intrigued me.  I wasn’t surprised that he was using chocolate in a savory dish.  People have been doing that for ages.  What really drew me in was that instead of as an add-in, he was using chocolate as the main ingredient in his dish – and a lot of it.  I was also fascinated by the fact that he paired the chocolate with anchovies.  When I saw that, I had quite a WTF moment!  It must have worked though, because when David fed a taste of the concoction to his wife, she kind of swooned a little.   That was when I knew I had to recreate this dish at home.

Penne al Cioccolato con Acciughe requires only a few ingredients and is very quick and easy to prepare.  You put your pasta on to boil and make the sauce while it cooks.  By the time the pasta is ready, the sauce is too.  It’s also all tossed together in one pan so cleanup is minimal, leaving more time for…well…other things.

But, how did it taste?  Pretty darn good, actually!   It was definitely chocolatey, but not really sweet.  And, it was rich!  The anchovies were very subtle, adding just a hint of smoky saltiness to the dish – not “fishy” at all.   While Penne al Cioccolato con Acciughe will probably never replace truffles as my chocolate indulgence of choice, it is definitely an interesting dish that is well worth trying – especially for Valentine’s Day.  And, while it didn’t instantly convert Mr. SGCC into a chocolate lover, I think it got him one step closer.

When I was a little girl, my grandfather worked as a longshoreman for the New York Port Authority.   For most of his career, he worked the night shift.  This meant that from Monday through Friday, he was rarely ever around at dinner time.  As a result, my Nonna  usually kept weeknight meals simple, since it was only her – and sometimes me – dining in.  Nonna was a big fan of bean dishes and she made them often. They were easy, nutritious and cheap.  And my Nonna was nothing if not frugal, as most World War 2 wives were.  Cucina povera was her specialty.

I’ve already shared Nonna’s recipe for Pasta e Fagioli, or “Pasta Fazool”, as we affectionately call it.  But another pasta and beans dish that we ate a lot of back then, was Pasta e Lenticchie, or pasta with lentils.  Although a lot of recipes portray both dishes as soups, neither dish is intended to be one, but rather a thick, wet, sloppy stew, with just enough liquid in them to sop up with a hunk of crusty Italian bread. 

Lentils are members of the legume family and come in many different varieties, from black and yellow to red and green.  They have a mild, earthy and sometimes nutty flavor, depending on what kind you use.   Like other legumes, lentils are low in fat and high in protein and fiber.  Because of their small size, they also cook quite a bit quicker than other types of beans, and they don’t need to be soaked first.   For some tips on cooking lentils, take a look at this article from About.com.

In Italian culture, the lentil’s biggest claim to fame is that it is one of the traditional “must eat” foods on New Year’s Eve. Eating lentils on New Year’s Eve is believed to bring good luck and prosperity throughout the following year.  Their small, round shape resembles coins that swell when cooked, so they are looked upon as a symbol of wealth. Italians are absolutely militant about this.  In fact, my grandmother wouldn’t even think of serving a meal on December 31 that didn’t include lentils in some form.

Pasta e Lenticchie, like Pasta e Fagioli, is a simple, rustic dish prepared with just a handful of basic ingredients.  Garlic and onions are sautéed in olive oil to which lentils, tomatoes, water and pasta are added and simmered to tenderness.  There isn’t much more to it than that.  I use chicken broth instead of water as my simmering liquid for extra flavor, but I’m pretty sure that my grandmother made do with plain, old H2O from the tap.

Dishes like this Pasta e Lenticchie are pure comfort food for me.  Cooking, and of course, eating them always transports me back to being six years-old in my grandmother’s homey, little kitchen.  Those were golden times for me.

My Nonna passed away over thirty years ago – just a few years after we moved to Florida.  I was fourteen and the memory of it still stings.  She was much too young and went much too soon.  I hardly had a chance to really get to know her beyond her infectious laugh, twinkling brown eyes and the heady scent of Cashmere Bouquet and Noxema that trailed her as she entered a room.  And it’s such a shame, because I have a feeling that as the years went on, we would have had a whole lot more in common than just DNA.

What are your favorite comfort foods?  Is there any one dish above all others that makes you think of “home”?  Does your family have any New Year’s Eve food traditions?  “Enquiring minds” want to know.

Buon Appetito!

Ack!  I’ve done it again.  With all of the craziness of Thanksgiving and my life in general, I completely forgot that Saturday was the reveal date for the November Daring Bakers challenge.  It wasn’t until I opened my reader last night and saw all of the DB posts that I realized it.  The 2010 November Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Simona of briciole. She chose to challenge Daring Bakers’ to make pasta frolla for a crostata. She used her own experience as a source, as well as information from Pellegrino Artusi’s Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well. So, I frantically rooted around in my kitchen to see what I could find to throw my crostata together.  Better late than never, I guess.

A crostata is basically an Italian tart.  The base of a crostata is made with pasta frolla, a sweet short crust pastry or sweet tart dough.   The filling is traditionally made with either jam, fruit preserves, pastry cream or any combination of them, but you can use anything your little heart desires.   Since I was flying by the seat of my pants, I used what most might probably consider a very unorthodox filling – my leftover cranberry chutney from Thanksgiving.  Yes, you read that right.  I spread a thick layer of cranberry chutney over that short crust dough and tossed it right in my oven.  The chutney was full of fresh cranberries, dried cherries, raisins, jam and sugar.  It looked like thick fruit preserves and it tasted delicious, so why not use it!   Actually, I think the choice totally embodies the spirit of the Daring Bakers, don’t you?  Just call me Kitchen Ninja!

The recipe for this crostata is a bit different from what I’m used to.  My Aunt Giuseppina makes the best darn crostata I ever tasted.  It’s one of her signature dishes and everyone loves it.  The crust in the DB recipe is a lot like a shortbread.  My aunt’s crostata crust is much more cake-like.  While both are good, I’d have to say I like Aunt Giuseppina’s version better.

And, in case you were wondering how my crostata experiment turned out – it was fantastic!  Seriously, if I hadn’t told anyone that the filling was leftover cranberry chutney, no one would have ever guessed.  It just goes to show that a little imagination and ingenuity goes a long way.

Buon Appetito!

Crostata di Marmellata

Ingredients:

1 batch Pasta Frolla (recipe follows)
1 and 3/4 cups [415ml, 600 gm, 21 oz] of jam or fruit preserves of your choosing

Directions:

1. Heat the oven to 375ºF [190ºC/gas mark 5].

2. Take the pasta frolla out of the fridge, unwrap it and cut away ¼ of the dough. Reserve this dough to make the lattice top of the crostata. Refrigerate this dough while you work on the tart base.

3. To help roll the crostata dough, keep the dough on top of the plastic wrap that you had it wrapped in. This can help rolling the dough and can also help when transferring the dough to your pan. You can also use parchment paper for this. However, you can also roll the dough directly on a work surface if you prefer.

4. Lightly dust the top of the dough and your work surface (if you’re rolling directly on a work surface) with flour. Keep some flour handy to dust the dough as you go along.

5. If the dough is very firm, start by pressing the dough with the rolling pin from the middle to each end, moving the rolling pin by a pin’s width each time; turn the dough 180 degrees and repeat; when it softens, start rolling. Roll the dough into a circle about 1/8th inch (3 mm) thick. If you used the plastic wrap or parchment paper as rolling surface, flip dough over the pan, centering it, and delicately press it all around so the corners are well covered. Peel away the plastic wrap. Trim the excess dough hanging over the edges of the pan. Press the remaining dough around the border into the sides of the pan making sure the border is an even thickness all the way around.  Prick the bottom of the dough with a fork in several places.

6. Take out of the fridge the reserved pasta frolla you had cut away earlier. Roll it with your pin and cut into strips or use cookie cutters to make small shapes (this is not traditional, but it looks cute); or roll with your hands into ropes.

7. Spread the jam or fruit preserves evenly over the bottom of the crostata.

8. Use the prepared strips or rolls of dough to make a lattice over the surface, or decorate with the cut shapes.

9. Brush the border and strips of dough with the reserved beaten eggs. You can add a drop or two of water to the beaten eggs if you don’t have enough liquid.

10. Put the tart in the oven and bake for 25-35 minutes.   After 25 minutes, check the tart and continue baking until the tart is of a nice golden hue.

11. When done, remove the tart from the oven and let cool. If you have used a tart pan with a removable bottom, then release the tart base from the fluted tart ring. Make sure the tart is completely cool before slicing and serving.

Pasta Frolla

Ingredients:

1/2 cup minus 1 tablespoon [105 ml, 100 g, 3 ½ oz] superfine sugar (see Note 1) or a scant 3/4 cup [180ml, 90g, 3 oz] of powdered sugar
1 3/4 cup [420 ml, 235 g, 8 1/4 oz.] unbleached all-purpose flour
Pinch of salt
1 stick [8 tablespoons / 4 oz. / 115 g] cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
Grated zest of half a lemon (you could also use vanilla sugar as an option, see Note 2)
1 large egg and 1 large egg yolk, lightly beaten in a small bowl

Note 1: Superfine sugar is often also referred to as ultrafine, baker’s sugar or caster sugar. It’s available in most supermarkets. If you cannot find “superfine” sugar, you can make your own by putting some regular granulated sugar in a food processor or blender and letting it run until the sugar is finely ground.

Note 2: There are different ways of making vanilla sugar. I keep vanilla beans in a jar half-filled with sugar until I need to use them, for example, to make vanilla ice cream. After I remove the split bean from the custard that will go into the ice cream maker, I rinse it, dry it and put it back in the jar with sugar.

Making pasta frolla by hand:

1. Whisk together sugar, flour and salt in a bowl.

2. Rub or cut the butter into the flour until the mixture has the consistency of coarse crumbs. You can do this in the bowl or on your work surface, using your fingertips or an implement of choice.

3. Make a well in the center of the mounded flour and butter mixture and pour the beaten eggs into it (reserve about a teaspoon of the egg mixture for glazing purposes later on – place in the refrigerator, covered, until ready to use).

4. Add the lemon zest to your flour/butter/egg mixture.

5. Use a fork to incorporate the liquid into the solid ingredients, and then use your fingertips.

6. Knead lightly just until the dough comes together into a ball.

7. Shape the dough into a flat disk and wrap in plastic wrap. Place the dough in the refrigerator and chill for at least two hours. You can refrigerate the dough overnight.

Making pasta frolla with a food processor:

1. Put sugar, flour, salt, and lemon zest in the food processor and pulse a few times to mix.

2. Add butter and pulse a few times, until the mixture has the consistency of coarse meal.

3. Empty food processor’s bowl onto your work surface

4. See step 3 above and continue as explained in the following steps (minus the lemon zest, which you have already added).

As a little girl, I perceived my mother’s kitchen as a mysterious and intriguing place where sights and smells and sounds converged to become yummy things for me to eat.    Of course, I understood nothing about the art and science of cooking.   I only knew that after the swooshing of knives, the clinking of whisks, the stirring of pots and the fragrance of garlic and herbs harmoniously sautéing on the stove that I wasn’t allowed to touch,  something wonderful and delicious would magically emerge.  I looked and I listened, and soon I became pretty good at guessing what Mom was making by observing her various “kitchen dances”.

Among the sounds that always brought me running into her kitchen were “tzzzzt” and “tsssss”.   I knew them well.  They were the sounds that a cutlet makes as it first meets the surface of a hot pan, followed by the gentle, telltale sizzle that follows as it fries into a mouthwatering golden, crunchy, meaty medallion.  Cutlets were one of my favorite foods when I was growing up, and they still are.  My mother made them Milanese-style, dipped in egg and seasoned Italian bread crumbs, and served them alongside copious amounts of stewed tomatoes.  I’d positively drown my cutlets in that sweet, lovely stewed tomato juice!  I can’t help but moan just thinking about it.  It was heaven!

This classic Italian dish was originally prepared with veal.  But somewhere along the way, chicken became the more popular choice – probably because chicken is a lot more budget friendly.  Since Thanksgiving is right around the corner, I thought I’d try the dish using turkey cutlets.  I think it’s a nice choice for those who aren’t into roasting a whole turkey for the holiday, or who are only cooking for a few.  Traditionally, cutlets alla Milanese are served on top of a bed of greens lightly dressed with a vinaigrette.  The acidity of the vinaigrette provides a nice contrast to the fried cutlets.

Whichever type of meat you choose for your cutlets, the preparation is always the same.  You dredge them in a little flour, dip them in some beaten egg and coat them in bread crumbs before frying them in some hot olive oil.  They can be a little messy, but they aren’t difficult at all to prepare.

Here’s how you do it:

You’re halfway there…..

See! That wasn’t so hard.

Just look at that beautiful turkey cutlet!  And, they are so, so good!  I only had one to photograph because we devoured the rest of them almost immediately.  I had to hide this one.  Shhh! Don’t tell.  I’m saving it for later.

As you can see, I served these cutlets over some nice, peppery arugula.  However, I highly recommend trying them with stewed tomatoes.  You’ll love them that way.  I promise.  Unless, of course, you don’t like tomatoes.  Then, I can’t help you.  I can pity you, but I can’t help you.

If you decide to serve turkey cutlets as part of your Thanksgiving dinner this year, they will go perfectly with all of the traditional trimmings, especially some creamy mashed potatoes and a nice cranberry chutney.  As a matter of fact, I have a recipe for a nice cranberry chutney for you.  But, you’ll have to wait for next time.  Patience is a virtue, you know.

Bon Appetito!

One of the things I love about native Italians is that they say what they mean, and they don’t mince words.  Take these cookies, for instance.  They’re called Brutti ma Buoni, which means “ugly, but good”.  Don’t you love it?  These unassuming, delicate little puffs of meringue studded with nuts and in this case,  chocolate, are kind of ugly.  But at the same time, they are crunchy, chewy and downright delicious.

These cookies were on the menu at my last cooking class and as my students were “oohing” and “aahing” over them, it hit me that I had never shared them with all of you before.  And, what a crying shame it is, because not only were they one of my childhood favorites, but they are also super easy to make.

The first thing you need to do is whip up some egg whites and sugar.  Then, gently mix in a little flour, vanilla and a splash of almond or hazelnut liqueur, and fold in the nuts and chocolate.

After you bake them, you’re rewarded with delightful little cookies that shatter upon contact with your teeth, and then just melt away in your mouth.

Traditional Brutti ma Buoni are made primarily with almonds, although a variety of different kinds of nuts are often used.  The more nuts you add, the more bumpy and  brutti your cookies will be.  In this version, I chose to use finely chopped almonds and dark chocolate bars with chopped almonds in them.  Feel free to experiment!  You could even add orange or lemon zest to your meringue for a citrus burst.

Brutti ma Buoni were always a staple on the cookie trays that my grandmother and aunts would distribute at holiday time.  A pleasant contrast from some of the other leaden heavier offerings, I remember sneaking around, plucking them off of the trays when no one was looking.

If you’ve never tried these little gems before, you’re in for a treat!  But, don’t take my word for it.  Go make some for yourself.  Just don’t blame me if you eat the whole batch before anyone else gets home!

Buon Appetito!