Love

There are a lot of photos of six of us celebrating. The 7th person was always holding the camera.


My father loved a lot of things. Swimming, basketball....

He was a chemist. With two daughters allergic to science.

The Christmas tree had to have tinsel. And only he could put it on properly.

He certainly loved to eat. And Christmas wasn't Christmas without a cannoli.

He danced. At weddings and in our home. After a celebration, we'd roll up the rug and put on some rock 'n roll.

As a boy, his Uncle Billy taught him to fish at a point in Brooklyn, NYC. Over the years, fishing was relaxation. And if dinner was caught, so much the better.

He was beautiful.

When he was younger, his father left. Took the car, the savings and just left. My father, his sister Ruth and brother Richard braved the world together. It was the three of them against the world as my grandmother struggled to care and provide for her children.

Their love and affection for each other carried them through life.

This June would have been their 59th anniversary.

"You will carry him in your hearts always and find him in unexpected ways," wrote my close friend. "Those who love deeply, grieve deeply," wrote a wonderful blogger.

There are so many photos of my parents dancing... I know how wonderful that is. It's a gift,

The biggest hug in the world on my sister's wedding day.

The biggest smile in the world on mine.

Matthew wanted this photo. For his smile. His grandson.

Kirsten wanted this one. His granddaughter.

Not everyone knew his great capacity for silliness. But my sister did!

In the great northwoods for my parent's 50th. We didn't fish but we had an al fresco lunch on Lake Superior.

At 2:30 a.m. Palm Sunday, my sister woke up. She went downstairs to check on Dad. She felt the room fill up. She saw Grandma Daisy and Aunt Ruth. She held his hand. From my father's early days he was a caregiver. Way before Grandpa Rudy up and left them, he assumed care of my Uncle Richard. He continued to be a caregiver his entire life. My sister told him how much he was loved. And that everyone he loved would be fine and it was all right to leave. And while holding his hand, he died peacefully. At home. As was promised.

We celebrated everything. Every birthday, anniversary, graduation and the fact that it was Sunday and we were all free for dinner.

We gathered at their Woodbury home. To cry, to nosh, to grieve, to tell stories. Later as my daughter was home alone prepping for a job interview, our yellow lab howled. Our cat meowed. She could not quiet them. She listened. She looked outside. She could not see what set them off. And then she wondered if Grandpa was checking on his granddaughter one last time. Ever the caregiver, checking to see if she was all right. Flights of fancy? Does it matter?

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My father was a private man. I will respect the privacy and never write of what is intensely personal to him. But I will always write of his love.

And he loved. And was loved.

Beef Rollatinis - a whirl of ingredients and winners of ABC Italiano

It's a truth that you may not think of something for twenty years but once you unlock one memory bank, other locks crumble and open. As I badger my mother with questions about Grandma and the family - I am hit by visions of the old Gresio kitchen. I smell aromas and respond to the sounds. I spend hours piecing memory waves together - what is memory? And what do I think I remember by virtue of the fact that I have heard the story so many times - I think I was there even if my mother assures me I was not.
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While piecing and layering anecdotes and facts - wondering if immigration, cooking and Grandma could be a children's play, I receive an intriguing e-mail. A gentleman has started an Italian food import business of hard to find Italian foods and would I like to sample some of his products and report on them? Is it serendipity? Or do thing unfold in their own time?



"I am Scott Stegen. I recently opened a website selling imported Italian food products, focusing on rare and hard to find items, like bottarga and pane carasau among many others. I have many more new products coming in the next few weeks. You can see my site here:

http://www.sausagedebauchery.com/

May I send you some things?"

And suddenly I have: 2 bags(2kg) "00" flour, 1 250g bag fennel seeds, 1 250ml bottle vincotto, 1 jar of capers from Salina, 1 500g bag of farro perlato. Enough to have fun with. I have used the fennel seeds for making my own turkey sausage (well, sort of - I just add spieces to ground turkey). I can smell the fennel through the bag. Heaven.
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For the beef rollatinis, I opened the vincotto - that is something I cannot find here. My mother is sending me a little jar so she can have some! And I use it sparingly - just for finishing. Is this me cooking? And I hungrily check his site for more ingredients. I know there is an order in the very near future. I know my mother would love a bottle of Vincotto.

We get our meat locally and because we buy in bulk, Bob Otis (a local farmer) throws in some extra cuts. He actually threw in a flat iron skirt steak - a cut rarely seen here. My mother is jealous. She hasn't seen that cut in decades. I slice it - about 3 inch wide stips.

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Rollatini's are simple meat roll-ups. In Liguria you would use veal and have a simple cheese-bread crumb stuffing. In Lazio, beef is used and the stuffing is more savory. I love how every region in Italy has their own rollatini recipe. In Valle D'Aosta, the filling has brandy and cream. In Sardegna, it is a simple filling of lardo, herbs and garlic. In Piemonte, anchovy and tuna are the stars of the stuffing. Each province developed meals according to what the land and sea provided. The foraging of an earlier people has become the cuisine of today.

Beef Rollatini with Vincotto Glaze - serves 4

1-1/2 pounds flat iron skirt (can use a flank steak, tenderloin, sirloin - anything that can be pounded flat

1-2 tbl butter (I used Earth Balance)

salt and pepper to taste

Rollatini Stuffing

3 ounces prosciutto, finely chopped

1/4 cup freshly shredded Parmesan

1/4 cup freshly shredded Fontina

4 oz favorite mushrooms, finely chopped (I used shiitake)

4 tbl fresh Italian parsley, finely chopped

1 large shallot, finely chopped

olive oil to coat a large skillet

Finishing Sauce

4 tbl Vincotto or a very good balsamic vinegar

(Note: Vincotto is not interchangeable with balsamic vinegar but a good balsamic also privdes a rich syrupy sauce for finishing meats)

The Vincotto is reduced by just a third. Although, it already is thick - I could warm it and serve it. As you drizzle it over the finished rollatnis, the aroma of the grape must is a time machine - and an airline ticket. You can smell the goodness of the past. You can breathe in the vineyards of Italy.

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Beef Rollatini Preparation

Between sheets of waxed paper, pound your meat thin (1/4 inch). Put a thin layer of butter on the meat. It will help the stuffing adhere to it. Salt and pepper to taste. Moving along the width of the meat, cut it into three inch strips.

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Combine your stuffing ingredients making sure all is minced. Spread it evenly atop the meat pressing to adhere the stuffing to the beef. Roll the beef and secure with a toothpick. (Can do ahead. Cover and refrigerate.)

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Cover the bottom of your skillet or pot with oil and heat till sizzling. Drop the rollatinis in the pot and brown all over. Turn with tongs to ensure even cooking. The beef takes 6-10 minutes to cook. Six minutes will be rare to medium-rare beef and 12 minutes will be medium well to well-done. Remove from pan and let rest 3-4 minutes.

In a small fry pan, add your vincotto or balsamic vinegar. Heat to a boil and reduce 1/3. You should have a sweet syrupy glaze. Drizzle over rollatinis and serve.

I may brown them oil and bake them next time.

A few serve as an entree. Or use them as an appetizer. Change the cheese, change the herbs - make it suit your tastes and your ingredinets - just as the Italians do.
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As I think of my famiglia from my past, I also smile at my family today. My firstborn's birthday is tomorrow. The young man who had the hard task of teaching me to be a mother. I read the books, I went to early childhood classes, but you know, this guy as an infant had a lot to tell me, to show me. A lot of understanding motherhood came from being a mother. Sometimes it was easy and sometimes it took time.

But he stuck with me. I remember sitting at his college graduation last spring - so proud - that I didn't cry. I did not dissolve into puddles. I controlled all those lumps and butterflies. Until of course he told me to check Facebook as soon as I arrived home. He would have photos of the day there. Of course, I did. I went straight to his page - and there he was - in his cap and gown with the title:"All Growed Up." And that's when I melted. And so he is - "all growed up." I wrote about it. Tomorrow we will celebrate that.

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And to end, I am the proud recipient of 10 wonderful ABC Italiano books and while some are earmaked for the Italian Cultural Center in Minneapolis and children's charities and preschools, three of them are for you: Fresh, Local and Best, Cinnamon Spice and Everything Nice and Mocha Me. Please e-mail me your address and I shall get them out to you quickly. Thanks to Joe at Italyville.com for providing these charming books and to all of you. Most people develop a love of language and reading on someone's lap. It's the best way to learn.