Juliet's Kisses (Baci di Giulietta) Cookies

There's nothing quite like a holiday show to give you the Christmas Spirit. Having just attended the delightful  All Wrapped Up (where my friend, Lynn Paulson was the amazing music director - brag, brag - I'm not prejudiced - If you had a super-talented friend wouldn't you like to announce it - in print?). I was finally ready for Santa Baby and The Holly and the Ivy. What I wasn't ready for was Winter Wonderland and Let it Snow. (and I live in Minnesota - why?)

And after intermission - it snowed. Yes, only 3 inches. And yes, heavy, wet, greasy snow - the sort of snow that is stunning to look at - it coats all in a white-furred embrace and shimmers in the dusk. The sort of snow that gives a woman who has "driver's anxiety" even when not driving, even in the summer - pause.

A friend - Mark Paulson - Lynn's talented husband and  /colleague/artist/all-around kind and fascinating person was driving. I do plan well around my anxieties! We had parked in a lot and when figuring out the payment for the day, the parking lot yelled at us to "stop loitering." Twice. Now, I grew up in New York City and a parking lot has never spoken to me - much less admonished me - twice. So, the day began with amusement - "the parking lot voice." And got better - with a show that charmed.

And then I got into my friend's  Miata for the slippery drive home. If you know anything about Miatas - you know they are four inches off the ground.  Three inches of snow expected. Four inches. Hmmm. Worrisome for someone with car/snow-phobia.

Yes, we got home. Yes, Mark told me amusing stories (hitching a ride in Glacier park and getting in a truck with some armed-drunk-people and their 90 year-old mother who smoked all his cigarettes and came on to him when he was - all of nineteen). And more. Telling a playwright stories during an anxiety-ridden drive is ingenuous. My friend knows how to calm.

Once home, I thought about this.

But decided butter, sugar and chocolate was better and did this.

Juliet's Kisses (Baci di Giulietta) Cookies
These cookies hail from - where else - Verona. And come Christmas, the bakeries in Verona are filled with them. But you don't have to celebrate Christmas to know that these tender, soft-crisp sandwich cookies laced with chocolate in the middle are meant to please - all. The recipe is from the Williams-Sonoma book Savoring Italy written by Michele Scicolone.

Ingredients


1 cup (8 ounces, 250 g) plus 2 tablespoons unsalted butter at room temperature
1/2 cup (2 ounces, 60 g) confectioner's sugar (powdered sugar, icing sugar)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon rum (can be omitted - use 1 tablespoon vanilla or almond extract if you prefer)
2 cups (10 ounces, 315 g) all-purpose flour
2 ounces (60 grams) semi-sweet chocolate

Baci Preparation

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. 

In a large bowl using an electric mixer, beat 1 cup of butter, confectioner's sugar and salt until light and fluffy. Then, beat in the rum (or extract).  Stir in the flour 1/4 cup at a time and beat till well-blended. Cover and chill until firm. -about one hour.

Tear off 1 teaspoon of the dough at a time and form into a small ball. Place the balls about 1 inch (2.5 cm) apart on baking sheet.  Bake until firm - about 12 minutes (mine took 14 minutes - you want them to crisp - so a bit firm but not browned. And they will crisp as they cool. Taste to see - tasting is the fun part.) Transfer to wire racks to cool.

Place the chocolate and remaining 2 tablespoons of butter in the top of a double boiler. (You can try the microwave - if you are really good about not burning). When water in the bottom is simmering (and not touching the top), stir the chocolate and butter together until they combine. Remove top from boiler and set aside to cool a bit (until it is spreadable - 5-10 minutes). 

Spread a small amount of chocolate on bottom of cookie (I put a small puddle in the center and that worked). 

Place a cookie top on top - pressing it a bit to ooze the chocolate - until it is a sandwich and place it on the wire rack to set. Let cool on the wire rack (10-15 minutes). 

Can store in an airtight container for a week (or in the fridge as I am doing!).

Juliet would be pleased. So would Romeo. And so was family. They encouraged me to continue baking to cure car-anxiety!

And so our oven is on, the heat is on, the Christmas lights are on and still there is a chill in the living room.

Oh! Pip-a-doo knows where all the vents are.

I am thrilled and humbled to announce that Under a Midsummer Moon has been selected as one of two plays to receive a grant by Playwrights in Our Schools to be developed in the winter of 2012. And where will it be developed? Park City, Utah. I skiied there. Before snow-phoia sent in.  It snows a lot. Every day in fact. You have to smile.  

50 Women Game Changers (in Food) - #26 - Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers - Linguine with Crab

For the last 25 weeks, I have been jumping to my computer on Fridays to look at the recipes prepared by the bloggers cooking from Gourmet's list of 50 Women Game Changers in Food. The list has brought about lively debate and discussion throughout blogosphere and now - with life merely at a hectic place, I am thrilled to join the discussion. The first 25 game-changers were chefs and food writers that I was well-acquainted with (Julia Child, anyone?) The last 25 are fairly new to me. Even if I know them, I haven't cooked from/with them.


I thank Mary from One Perfect Bite for starting this extraordinary journey. If you would like to join in the fun, e-mail Mary for information on how to get started. Do visit her blog if you haven't already - her dry wit, honest assessment of recipes, travel stories and scrumptious offerings will bring you back to her blog again and again.


For week #26, we are cooking from Rose Gray (a Brit) and Ruth Rogers (an American). If you've ever travelled to London pre-1987, you likely went for the theatre, the history, the art, the royals, the Thames, the posh accents, the fashion - but you certainly didn't go there for the food. Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers changed all that. When they opened The River Cafe in 1987, the British got their first taste of Northern Italian cuisine on English soil.


Gone were the red sauces that populated London (and I love red sauce) and in its place was pasta mixed with seafood and/or vegetables, focaccia, an all-Italian wine list and an open floor plan that delighted all including the owner-chefs. Rose Gray mentioned  that she felt like she was in an actress with the restaurant as her theatre. Every night was opening night. I can certainly relate to that!

Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers met in 1969 and although their paths crossed many times on both sides of the Atlantic for almost two decades, their partnership did not begin until the opening of The River Cafe in 1987. Described as bohemians, iconoclasts, they were two women who knew their own minds and believed in things passionately - whether it was food, art or politics. They lived many lives before that! Proof positive that life does not offer one direct path. There are forks and detours and one is never sure where the paths will take you but if you have an adventuresome spirit as they did, you can be in for a glorious ride.

I chose to make linguine with fennel and crab. And while crab is not exactly local in Minnesota (although we do get fresh crab from the Gulf Coast through November), fennel is still abundant and has not been trucked in from other countries.


Rose Gray and Ruth Rogers pioneered seasonal and local in London - way before the movement had taken off. This was an offspring of Rose Gray's time in Lucca where she duly noted how the Italians ate, what they ate and when they ate it. They influenced many chefs to do the same - most notably Jamie Oliver who trained under them at The River Cafe. One year after opening, The River Cafe earned a Michelin star which it retains to this day. Not too shabby for two self-taught chefs who would find themselves at the same protest marches for years before they decided to work together!

Linguine with Crab (from The Guardian, UK reprint of easy recipes from The River Cafe))

Linguine 320 grams (about 3/4 pound)

400 grams (about 14 ounces) crab meat - you may use canned - but avoid the $1.99 ones at Trader Joe's - there are better ones to be had - usually at the fish counter

1 fennel bulb

1 garlic clove

1 tablespoon fennel seeds

2 dried chilies

1 lemon

extra-virgin olive oil

Linguine with Crab Preparation

Remove the tough outer part and stalk of the fennel. Slice the bulb as finely as you can across the grain. Keep any of the green tops. Peel and finely chop the garlic. Crush the fennel seeds and crumble the chilli. Grate the zest of the lemon, and squeeze the juice.

Heat two tablespoons of oil in a thick-bottomed pan, add the garlic, fennel seeds and chilli, and cook to soften. Add the crab, lemon juice and zest, and season. Stir through, just to heat up the crab.

Cook the linguine in boiling, salted water for five minutes, then add the fennel slices and cook together until al dente. Drain the pasta, keeping a little of the water, and add to the crab mixture. Stir thoroughly to combine, adding a little of the reserved water to loosen the sauce if necessary. Serve with olive oil.

If cooking crab yourself, buy them live and choose one or two large crabs - it will be much easier to pick the meat out from them than from many small ones. Cock crabs (males) have larger claws and a higher proportion of white meat. Spider crabs are very sweet and good for this recipe, though it takes longer to pick out the meat than from the common crab, as the meat-to-shell ratio is lower.

I did use a good quality canned crab! And in truth, the next time (yes, there will be a next time) I will use more crab. The crab need to hold its own against the anise-flavored fennel and I wanted more of the sweetness of the crab for balance. But I did like the nuances - sweet crab, licorice fennel (somewhat muted from the simmering) all balanced with the mellow linguine. The dish is a wee bit white, so I added some of the fennel fronds for color. As for the ease - it couldn't be easier or faster and that is always a plus for those busy days. 

The River Cafe spawned many cookbooks. Take a look at them here. Sadly, Rose Gray passed away in February 2010. But her presence has been noted and her legacy will carry on to future generations. A moving tribute to her by the New York Times can be found here. And take a look at what the other bloggers are cooking from this dynamic duo. Their links are below.

Val - More Than Burnt Toast, Joanne - Eats Well With Others, Taryn - Have Kitchen Will Feed
Susan - The Spice Garden, Claudia - A Seasonal Cook in Turkey, Heather - girlichef,
Miranda - Mangoes and Chutney, Jeanette - Healthy Living, April - Abby Sweets
Katie - Making Michael Pollan Proud, Mary - One Perfect Bite, Kathleen - Bake Away with Me

Viola - The Life is Good Kitchen, Sue - The View from Great Island, Barbara - Movable Feasts

Kathleen - Gonna Want Seconds, Amy - Beloved Green, Linda - Ciao Chow Linda

Linda A - There and Back Again, Martha - Lines from Linderhof, Nancy - Picadillo

Mireya - My Healthy Eating Habits, Veronica - My Catholic Kitchen

Annie - Most Lovely Things

Carrots in Marsala

Consider this: you have a table laden with turkey, gravy, truly-heart-stopping-clogging mashed potatoes, salads, pumpkin bread, wheat rolls, apple-sausage stuffing and the first thing to go are the carrots.

I began to think "Claudia, you're on to something." The recipe hails from Sicily and the secret star  is Sicily's Marsala wine. The recipe is from Williams-Sonoma's Savoring Italy by Michele Scicolone. With a little butter, a shallot and some Marsala wine,  the carrots are transformed from rabbit-crunchy food to an elegance that speaks of a strand of pearls. And if a living mollusk can create a pearl, it is perfectly reasonable to me that a vegetable garden plus an Italian recipe can produce similar elegance.

Carote in Marsala
1/4 cup unsalted butter
1 shallot, chopped
1 pound (500 g) carrots, peeled and sliced thin
salt to taste
1/4 cup (2 fluid ounces, 60 ml dry Marsala)**
(to make this vegan use Earth Balance Butter)

*I used sweet Marsala and I will spare you the reason why; suffice to say - it worked
** Substitutions for Marsala: apple juice with a drop of sherry vinegar and a table spoon of honey (it won't be the same but it will imitate the sweet syrupy glaze)

In a large frying pan over medium-high heat, melt the butter. Add the shallot and saute until just tender. Add the carrots and the salt, reduce heat to low, cover and cook - stirring occasionally - until the carrots are tender - about 20 minutes. If they begin to scorch, add a little bit of water. Add the Marsala and cook, uncovered, until it evaporates (3-4 minutes). Serve immediately.

In this season of rushing, perfection-yearning, overload and "must-do," there is sophistication in this simple prep. It showcases what Italians do so well - make it seasonal and make it the star. The carrots are enriched by the other ingredients but they remain front and center. Time to let the vegetable shine!

Tuna-Potato Pâté

So here it is two days before Thanksgiving and I am posting a recipe that really doesn't have a "wow" factor. In fact - it's downright humble. But it is - fun. Remember fun? For my daughter, "fun food" is preparing "puppy chow" and settling down with a blanket, a cat and Gilmore Girls. For her mother, it's curling up on the sofa with Italian cookbooks while mindlessly munching on comfort - comfort being this tuna-potato pâté.

The recipe hails from Mary Ann Esposito's Ciao Italia in Tuscany. She calls it Pate di Tonno alla Maria Pia - Maria Pia's Tuna Pate. Maria Pia fashions a fish out of the mashed potato-tuna mixture and then adds homemade mayonnaise as scales on top. She even fashions a fishy-face with capers and parsley! She will then serve it simply with a salad or spring peas.

But since it has been established that I am a great lazybones - especially days before Thanksgiving, I simply dumped the mixture - with a little (store-bought) mayonnaise added into a loaf pan and forgot about it. For three days. As more grocery shopping got done, the pate was relegated to the cavernous back of the fridge - in danger of disappearing forever.

I like it. In fact, everyone liked it. Loved it. "What's in it?" I wanted to make up stuff - an exotic oil, a magical spice. But I confessed, "Mashed potatoes, tuna, mayonnaise and some capers." And my family just nodded their heads as another cracker was spread and eaten.

It's the perfect Sunday appetizer - easy-going: a little tang, a little salt and a whole bunch of smooth. Comfort food with a wee bit of attitude. This can be made days in advance and then trotted out at your whimsy. This will be on the "I'm not hungry, I'll just pick" table this holiday season during marathon baking sessions.

Ingredients
4 medium-sized cooked potatoes, cooled and peeled (about 1-3/4 pounds)
12-ounce can tuna packed in olive oil (Use a nice Italian tuna)
2 tablespoons capers in salt, rinsed
pinch sea salt
1/4-1/3 cup good mayonnaise

Preparation (I love this prep)
Combine all in a large bowl, mixing well. Lightly spray a loaf pan and put mixture in it. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate about six hours or up to three (or more!) days. When ready to serve, simply unmold onto a plate. Serve with breads or crackers. I liked the arugula and thinly sliced radishes with it. The pate is mellow and a little peppery and crunchy bite was welcome. I might even add a dab of tuna on top of the pate.

*I would use three potatoes next time - as I like tuna and would like the pate to be more tuna-intense.

The original recipe from Mary Ann Esposito can be found here. 

For those celebrating Thanksgiving, I wish you a gracious and grateful Thanksgiving. And to those not in "Thanksgiving-mode," I hope you have a lovely weekend of breaking bread with laughter and love. 

Ricotta Sformato

I think my New Year's resolution will be to make every Sformato recipe I can find. This recipe came via Deborah Mele who was trying to recreate the ricotta sformato she had at Il Cibreo in Florence. It's a warm, pliable, gentle mass of cheese. I decided it's perfect as an appetizer, as a savory dessert, a light meal with a salad and I may have it for breakfast tomorrow. Cheese and an egg? Sounds like breakfast to me.

Il Cibreo (or rather it's lower-priced trattoria - which is not low-priced, mind you - just lower-priced!) was on my radar thanks to research, Bon Appetit, guidebooks and Ciao Chow Linda. I know that Paul and I blow in the wind when it comes to our meals - so if it worked out - we would go there. And if we were elsewhere and hungry - we would miss it. As it turns out, it was a mere three blocks from our pensione. And when we walked there expecting a wait, we were immediately shown to the last table - and then the line formed outside. Serendipity. We had climbed the Duomo, climbed the Piazalle Michelangelo and were ready to eat. A sampling:

Tomato gelee. That is in my past and my future. When the tomatoes return.

"You will not soon forget their polenta," wrote Ciao Chow Linda when she recommended the trattoria. And I haven't.  I am consumed by it. And if I could go back in time, this is the baby food I would feed my children. Enriched cream puddles - I have never had a softer or purer polenta.

"It's all pureed!" exclaimed my husband and indeed a lot of it is - or rather most of it is molecular gastronomy. Herbs, cheeses, unbearable softness whipped into a sweet purity with nuance that I will always try to create.There is a tale that a mother came in with her infant and while dining tried to feed her infant some baby food and the baby would have none of it. Chef Fabio Picchi (the chef behind Il Cibreo and its offsprings) added some just-grated Parmesan and a dab of olive oil and the infant lapped up the food with gusto!

Veal "meatloaf" studded with pistachios and served with a warming mayonnaise. It really wasn't a meatloaf - it was a sumptuous pate.

Much has been said about the fact that Chef Fabio Picchi doesn't serve pasta. As if it was a badge of honor - but the reality is - the kitchen was too small. When he first started out 30 years ago, his kitchen was not large enough to accommodate huge vats of boiling water - not with all the Tuscan cuisine he wanted to create. So he put pasta on the back-burner and found that he was gaining a reputation for not having pasta. He decided not to mess with fate and has kept pasta off the menu ever since. Pasta is not on the menu - but Tuscany is.

Chocolate covered coffee mousse. Simple. Pure. Decadence.

Now to return to the Ricotta Sformato. I do get to things in my circular fashion. I did mine in ramekins and halved the recipe because there are presently two of us at home (Paul is in Italy) and I would be in great danger of eating all the extra. The recipe posted serves 6. 

Ricotta Sformato Ingredients
1-1/2 cups ricotta cheese (do not use low-fat)
1/2 cup freshly-grated Parmesan Cheese
1 large egg
1 tablespoon olive oil
2 tablespoons minced basil (I used arugula - it was fresher than the overgrown basil I saw)
salt and pepper to taste

To serve: Tomato sauce and basil or butter and parmigiano-reggiano

I am thinking that next time - and there will be a next time - possibly on Thanksgiving - I will add some mascarpone to make it even richer.

Ricotta Sformato Preparation

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Beat all ingredients in a large bowl until creamy. Put in oiled baking pan (a loaf pan is good) or in 4-6 ramekins and bake 25-30 minutes. (The ramekins will take about 22-25 minutes). Remove from oven and let sit for 15 minutes. It's important that they "set."

To serve:

Invert ramekins or baking pan onto baking sheet. If using a loaf pan, slice into six pieces. Put a dollop of melted butter and some freshly-grated Parmesan on top and broil for 2-3 minutes until the top is lightly browned. Or simply place on dishes and add a few teaspoons of tomato sauce and basil and serve.