An Italian Easter

Grandma never wrote down a recipe. And my mother only wrote down the recipes she didn't know by heart. (She would just rattle off instructions to you.) Over the years, I have reached back to the foods of my childhood holidays through blogs. Below is a feast of breads, pies and Italian tradition. I hope you visit. And Savor. And cook. Enjoy

Tradition. It's how we reach out to the past and connect and visit. It's how people are remembered with love. On the night before Easter, my mother traditionally made calzones: sausage and cheese calzones, meatballs calzones, ricotta and spinach calzones. Why we dined on rich meats and cheeses tucked away in bread on the night before the all-day feast brings a smile and a shake of the head. Wouldn't be wiser to have salad-shakes all day? Maybe. But that wouldn't be Italian.

I changed things up a bit. So the night before Easter I typically made Pizza Rustica. I lightened it with a lot of spinach and roasted red peppers. But cheese is cheese and Italian cured meats are not for people who live with a skinny barometer. It's rich. It keeps. And slices are served for days. Because one slice is enough. For now.

For those not scared of a rich array of meats and cheeses for a spring meal, find the recipe here.
Pizza Rustica

A gorgeous egg-filled, sausage-stuffed, cheese (tuma) Easter bread comes from Proud Italian Cook. Richness soars to new heights.
Easter Bread

Frank from Memorie di Angelina has a meat-centric gorgeous Neopolitan Easter Pie (more like a meat cake). Find it here:
Neopolitan Easter Pie

I hope you try some of these out and throw caution to the wind during Easter week

And then there is the Neopolitan Wheat Pie.

Heavy cans of cooked wheat. That's my memory of trips to New York. Lugging back cans of cooked wheat.

"Bring back wheat for the pastiera," said my mother. And whoever went to New York did. I used to get them at the old Balducci's (sadly the new Balducci's doesn't carry them.) They were always down under some heavy shelving, piled with dust. And somewhere in the last 2 years, my mother scored some dried grain and kept it in her freezer. I am using the last of the grain for the pie this Easter.

My Midwestern family does not love this. Maybe you need an Italian gene - but my children believe it wouldn't be Easter without it. In fact, when I host Easter, my daughter hides the wheat pie until after our Midwestern loved ones left.

"They don't appreciate it," she declares helping herself to a big slice. Creamy ricotta, wheat (or farro or wheat berries) cooked in sugar and cream, dotted with chocolate chips and sprinkles.... really, what's not to like?

Find my recipe here:
Neopolitan Wheat Pie

Another take on this Easter pie can be found at Ciao Chow Linda's. She also gives a bit of its history and some winning step-by-step instructions. (Plus: she uses mascarpone which really makes this wickedly wonderful.)
Ciao Chow Linda's Neopolitan Wheat Pie

Linda also has a savory braided Easter bread reminiscent of some of my grandmother's breads. And it's a beauty. Centerpiece beautiful. It's here:
Braided Easter Bread
Salami... olives ... cheese ... oh my.

And for those who are not sure about cooked wheat in a sweet pie, Mary from One Perfect Bite has an Easter pie made with rice. Sweet, creamy and spring. It's here:
Easter Pie

A beautiful eggy traditional bread can be found at Claudia's What's Cookin' Italian Style. Permeated with anisette, it's a beautiful start to your Easter. Find it here:
Grandma's Easter Bread

Amid jelly beans and chocolate bunnies, the Easter Bunny brings torrone. Nougat/almond/ hard and then melt-in-your-mouth - it's hard to come by in the Midwest. (Which is why the Easter Bunny brings it.) A luscious rendering of this famous Italian treat can be found on Mister Meatball's blog. It isn't a feast day without torrone.
Mister Meatball's Torrone

The outside is not Easter although we've been treated to gorgeous sunsets. I expect the Easter Bunny to arrive on skis.

But spring is on the table - and occasionally nibbled by Murray.

I'm learning to bake when Luce is asleep. And wondering at the wisdom of dyeing Easter eggs with a kitten who loves liquids. (Tie-dyed kitten paws?)

Who knows? Luce may wind up with his own blog.
Happy Easter! Buona Pasqua!

Out of an Orange Colored Sky...

Flash! Bam! Alakazam ... wonderful you came by.

That's how I feel about oranges in the winter. They brighten. Heighten - taste, sun, sweetness, tang. Alakazam! That's especially how I feel about orange sweets! Wham! Bam! I am obsessed with finding a recipe for these orange crisps that I had at the Forno Campo de'Fiori in Rome. We stumbled on the small bakery and somehow I managed to "stumble" upon that bakery every afternoon when we were in Rome. Serendipity?

I haven't found the right "orange crisp" recipe. But I have been devouring orange treats. I am calling it research. And much tastier research than the year I have spent seeking information on the North Pole and Siberia. Given the arctic winter* here - I probably would have been better researching the tropics.

*Note: In the last two days it was warmer in Siberia than in Minnesota. I researched.

I found this Sicilian Orange Cake from Mary One Perfect Bite blog. It's sort of an orange sponge cake. Just sweet enough. More importantly, it is citrusy enough. Bright enough. Sharp enough to cut through winter. When it occurs in the spring. I think of it as a snack cake. And a fruit serving. And a reward for donning six layers of clothes just to go get the mail. It's my way of fantasizing that I am in a Sicilian orange grove.

Florentine Schiacciata

Ingredients
2 eggs
2/3 cup granulated sugar
2 teaspoons orange zest
1 tablespoon orange juice (I used a wee bit more)
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil + 2 tablespoons
1-1/2 cups whole milk (I used 2%)
2-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
confectioner's sugar for dusting (I skipped that - I squirted orange juice over it - I am serious about citrus)

Mary states that preparation is fifteen minutes. I dutifully got out all my ingredients, zested and squeezed the orange and had the flour, salt and baking powder sifted in a bowl. Waiting to be transformed into cake.

When it happened.

You see that little thing below with an out-of-control Maine-coon cat tail?

He looks so innocent. doesn't he? After I squeezed the orange, I turned around and that little innocent feline was sitting in the bowl of flour. Splashing. No, there are no photos. All I could see was the flour being dragged through the home, over the piano, up the stairs and through the bedrooms. He has a lot of fur. And it had a lot of flour.

So my prep took considerably longer. Luckily, he likes water (he missed a cat gene somewhere along the line). So he got scrubbed and everything else did also.

Preparation
(Not counting cleaning the cat, washing the kitchen and redoing the ingredients.) 

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Line a 9x9 pan with parchment paper; grease and flour it.

In a large bowl whisk the eggs, sugar, zest and juice. Combine olive oil and milk (Mary suggests in a 2 cup measurement.) Whisk it into the egg mixture. In a medium bowl sift flour, salt and baking powder. (I throw it all in the bowl and whisk it.) In three parts, fold it into the egg mixture until smooth. Pour into prepared pan.

Bake 20-25 minutes until done. (Mine took 35 minutes. The edges got wonderfully crackled but the inside was still mixture - so do the toothpick test all over to make sure all is cooked.) Cool in pan for ten minutes. Invert on to cooling rack till cooled. Sprinkle with confectioner's sugar. Or not.

It's all sunshine and light - which is what you want on March 20th - something springy and spongy - all sunbeams and light and Sicilian dreams.

In my search for the orange cookies from Rome, I came across these. They're not what I was looking for but I didn't mind. They were good. I'd skip the icing/glaze though. They're just sweet enough.

Orange Cookies

They're from Taste of Home and the link to the recipe is here.

I used Blood Oranges. Cause I could.

I haven't figured out how to cook with Luce yet. I never had a cat so determined to "help." "Like a bird with a French fry," says my daughter.

Or a kitten with a Cheeto. (For the record that's my sister allowing Luce a Cheeto. I don't do that stuff - heaven forbid.)

In case you're in an orange mood... alakazam! It's spring!

Beef Wellington

"What do you want for your birthday dinner?" I asked. In innocence.

"Beef Wellington," replied Matthew.

"Are you sure? I've never made Beef Wellington?"

"Yes you have."

"No. That was Grandma."

And so it came to pass that the night before Matthew's birthday we gathered for Beef Wellington.

The caviar for the fngerling potatoes went missing. The living areas were packed with boxes and bags. Kirsten was moving out on Matthew's birthday. Snow, sleet and freezing rain was the forecast. But inside all was warmth and good wishes for new lives emerging - encouraged by the aromas of mushrooms and beef - happy together.

What surprised me is - the dish is easy. Oh yes - many steps. Many. But if you follow the instructions - you have a show-stopper of a meal. Six people gathered for a 3-1/2 pound roast. Two small pieces are left over. Because some of us showed restraint. 

I used Tyler Florence's recipe - with a few little changes that I will note for you. I also followed advice from the reviews. And I also know what I would do differently the next time. (And the next time and the next....)

I've always had the roast coated with pate. This uses mushrooms. So if you want to save a few calories... who am I kidding? If you want to save a few calories you're eating fish.

I vowed to only do Italian recipes on my blog for 2013. There's something about the title of my blog ... So I state now that this is Italian Beef Wellington because it uses prosciutto. And if you use porcini mushrooms - really - it's authentic Italian. American.

Ingredients - 6-8 servings

Duxelles
2 pints favorite mushrooms (I used portabellas; Florence calls for 3 pints white button ones - it's too much)
2 shallots - peeled and chopped (don't go crazy - it's going in the food processor)
4 cloves garlic - peeled and chopped (ditto)
2 sprigs thyme - leaves only (I used 4 times that amount)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter (I omitted)
2 tablespoons olive oil (I may have used 3)
Kosher salt (I used sea salt)
Freshly ground pepper

Beef
1 3-pound beef tenderloin (mine was a little larger)
Extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly-ground pepper (again, I did the sea-salt thing)
12 slices prosciutto (I used 10)
6 sprigs of fresh thyme leaves
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
Flour - for rolling out puff pastry
Puff Pastry (enough sheets to cover roast top to bottom)
2 large eggs lightly beaten (you probably just need one egg and a little water)
1/2 teaspoon coarse sea salt

Preparation

Duxelles
Add mushrooms, shallots, garlic and thyme to food processor and pulse until finely chopped. (Either add in batches or stop and stir - so you don't puree the bottom mushrooms while leaving the top ones whole.)

Add butter (if using) and olive oil to large saute pan and set over medium heat. Add mushroom mixture and saute 8-10 minutes until most of the liquid has evaporated. Season with salt and pepper and set aside to cool. (I would now put in towels or in a colander lined with cheesecloth or paper towels to squeeze out more moisture. Too much moisture and your puff pastry will be soaked.)

Beef
Lay an 18-inch sheet of plastic wrap on your table. (Large enough to hold the roast and then some. Put your prosciutto slices on it - shingle style - so it can cover the roast. Using a spatula, cover the prosciutto with a thin layer of the duxelles. Season once more with a little salt and pepper (I'd go sparingly with the salt at this point). Season duxelles with the thyme leaves.

Tie tenderloin in 4 pieces so it holds its shape when searing. Lightly drizzle a large fry pan and heat over medium-heat. Drizzle beef with olive oil, season with salt and pepper and sear all over (sides, ends - everywhere) about 2-3 minutes. Remove from heat, cut of twine and smear lightly with the mustard. Put roast on top of duxelles (having the seam looking up at you so the top of the roast is covered with the prosciutto and mustard mixture.) Roll tightly in the plastic wrap (I used some extra wrap to get it nice and tight.) Set in fridge for 30 minutes to ensure it maintains its shape. (I put it in for 90 minutes and you would do very well to let it stay in the fridge overnight. It also lets you do the meal in pieces and not do all the prep in one day.)

Preheat oven to 425 degrees F.

On a lightly floured surface, roll 2 sheets of puff pastry out to 1/4 inch thickness. (If you have extra-large sheets - you may not need 2.) Remove beef from fridge, Cut away the plastic and set beef in the center of the pastry (again with the top of the roast going into the pastry and the bottom looking up at you. Fold over the pastry and when the seams meet, pinch them together and brush with the eggs to seal. Trim if necessary. Place beef - seam side down on large baking sheet. (Do put it on a small rack so the moisture can drip away.)

Brush the top with the egg wash and make slits on the top of the pastry to allow steam escape. Top with a little sea salt. Bake 40-45 minutes until pastry is golden brown and thermometer reads 125 degrees F. (Mine took exactly 40 minutes - and I went to 130 degrees F - which allowed rare pieces in the center and more medium at the smaller ends for my medium-beef eaters.) Remove from oven and let rest about 20 minutes.

This is excellent with roasted fingerlings, creme fraiche and the missing caviar.

It's just so do-able. That was my surprise. It's only March. There are probably a few snowstorms waiting for us. This would be a delicious end to a snow day. Who needs a major holiday?

"You're changing my room!" exclaimed Kirsten. "You left Matthew's as is! It was a shrine!" (I beg to differ - but I'm the Mom. Perception is everything.)

It probably wasn't a good idea to tell her my plans before she moved out...

Today the home is quiet. Birthday boy is helping his sister move. The sleet is merely rain. The hall is empty - the 20 pairs of shoes that resided there the last two years have gone to a new home. In a few weeks, Matthew leaves his Minneapolis apartment and moves near the University - in a place he does not need to share and can make his own. I remember all those milestones from once-upon-my-time. And the excitement.
There's a lot of promise in growth. A lot of newness. And they're all signs of spring.

Asparagus Parmesan Sformato and a Bonus

I have been yearning. And I don't know for what. I wake up with a longing. It's not a bad of state of being. But it does turn you into a slightly boring person - this longing. Because you spend a lot of time turned inward. And you lose track of conversations. And it's obvious. You're caught not listening. I want the "yearning" to come out and assert itself and so I have been doing things I have been meaning to do forever - hoping these activities would coax out the little-stubborn-yearning.

I planned on making these little asparagus puddings when they were actually in season - last April. Some things take me a long time to do. Even pleasant things. I am an equal-opportunity procrastinator. I later planned on doing these over the holidays. And then I was sure these would come to the table in January. And now I am kicking myself that I hadn't made them earlier and monthly.

I have a fondness for the sformato - the transformation of cheeses and vegetables into velvet. Something dense but in a believable disguise as a light offering. (Even though the 6 eggs belie that notion.) I do try to eat seasonally and locally - but in Minnesota - you could come down with scurvy if you didn't move outside your northland circle.

Perhaps it is because I have looked at this long enough.

We are at the point in winter where the driveway has lost a lot of weight and become quite narrow. Where the December sighs of "Such a pretty snowfall - it looks like a Christmas Card!" have turned into "Oh Goody (or expletive), "It's snowing." (using the sarcastic font).

I have spent my eves with Stephen King going back in time. And while the book helped me get through a fifth arctic blast - it just intensified the yearning.

Perhaps I was tired of the recipe on the fridge nagging me every time I opened the fridge door. Perhaps it was the lure of $2.99/pound asparagus that did not look exhausted. I finally made them. And I will make them again - with broccoli, with spinach, with Swiss chard and with locally grown, seasonal asparagus. In April. Or May. And you should also.

Ingredients - 8 Servings
1/2 cup fresh breadcrumbs from crustless Italian bread
2 pound asparagus, trimmed
2 tablespoons butter
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1 cup freshly-grated Parmesan cheese
1/2 cup whole milk ricotta
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
4 eggs

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter 8 3/4-1 cup ramekins. Coat the bottom with breadcrumbs.
2. Cut off asparagus tips. Cook for 3 minutes in boiling salted water. Drain, reserving 1 cup cooking liquid. Put tips aside.
3. Coarsely chop asparagus stalks. Melt butter in large skillet over medium heat. Add onion. Saute onion about 6 minutes. Add stalks and saute 5 minutes. Add reserved asparagus cooking liquid. Cover and simmer for 12 minutes. Uncover and cook until liquid is absorbed, stirring often - about 5 minutes.
4. Transfer to food processor and puree.
5. Add Parmesan, ricotta and flour and process until just blended. Salt and pepper a bit.
6. In a large bowl, whisk eggs. Add the asparagus puree and whisk to blend. Stir in all but 8 of the asparagus tips.
7. Pour into ramekins - filling the ramekins about 3/4 of the way.
(Can be made ahead. Cover and chill.)
8. Put ramekins in water bath. (Put in roaster and large baking tray. Pour boiling water around ramekins - filling the pan about 1 inch with water.)
9. Bake "puddings" until set - about 35 minutes. Let stand ten minutes. Invert onto plates and garnish with reserved asparagus tips.

Look at it. Long for it.

It bends to the will of the seasons. It's flecked. It's cheese - baked and just a little browned. It's asparagus - coaxed  into a soft winter coat. Not intense - just soothing. Sort of cloudy. Sort of earthy. Sort of reassuring.

And it's good. Really good.

So is this.

Marinated Goat Cheese with Warmed Olives

The thing is - you probably have all in your kitchen: olive oil, a fresh herb, olives, goat cheese, a lemon.

And that's it. Use a goat cheese medallions or a log or two. Heat a bit of olive oil (about 1/4 of a cup) with the zest of a lemon and some fresh herbs (I used thyme - but use what suits your fancy). Add some olives - your choice - and some freshly-ground pepper. When nice and warm (not boiling), pour all over the goat cheese and serve.

I made this ahead of time on Valentine's Day and this lovely man that I am married to - who sent me flowers - who had an actual card waiting for me on Valentine's Day morning - didn't get any. Yeah. Well... I had my fill.

So I will need to make it again. But not ahead of time.

Meanwhile, my daughter has accused me of whoring out the cats to get comments on the blog.

Heavens-to-Betsy - why would I do that?

Gorgonzola Torte

Pungent, creamy, rindy, milky, sweet, smooth, hard, coarse, crumbly, soft. If chocolate and billowy clouds of confections are food of the goods, cheese is food of the earth.

I found this on Pinterest and followed the recipe to the grand Boulder Lovcavore blog which I have followed for years. I cut the recipe down because I needed to feed 5 and I thought it would never all get eaten. But I encourage you to look at the original recipe complete with the beautiful photos. Find it here. If you are feeding a crowd, I encourage you to go with the full recipe. Plus your slices will be much thicker and more welcoming.

It's sweet, earthy, creamy, spreadable and fulfills all tastebud requirements. It can be dressed down for sports and dressed up - for what? What do I say without sounding pretentious? Let's just say - it's a torte for all seasons.

Smear it on a pear, bread or crackers. I am thinking roasted figs (now sadly out of season) would make it sing.  And the next time - I'll leave off the extra sour cream. I don't need to calm the gorgonzola down. I like it assertive. I'm pleased. I have my mother's mouse gene. Blue cheeses do not scare me.

As noted, the original recipe has pecans which I lefty out because of allergies. But feel free to add them - the crunch and nutsy earth would be grand.

Ingredients
1-8 ounce package cream cheese
6 ounces Gorgonzola (Gorgonzola Dolce is very nice here... just saying)
1-1/4 cups sour cream (can use less if you decide not to add on the extra sour cream at end)
1/8 white pepper
1 egg
1/4 cup egg whites
1/4 cup scallions or chives

Preheat oven to 300 degrees F. Prep a 9-inch springform pan by buttering ( it or spraying it liberally).

Beat cream cheese and blue cheese until creamy. Add egg and beat. Add egg whites and beat. Mix in sour cream and lightly beat. Stir in white pepper and scallions/chives.

Pour into springform pan and bake for 30-35 minutes until knife inserted into middle comes out clean. Cool 5 minutes.

*Optional: I did this but didn't need to: add 3/4 cup of sour cream to top of torte. Bake for additional 5-10 minutes and cool and refrigerate for 3 hours - or preferably over night. Remove springform and slice and serve.

Writing all winter - for we do have winter. I blog and visit only 1 day per week. 2013 is different than 2012 but I endeavor to find all of you. There is writer's block as you can see.

And then they sleep on the computer and I melt.

Just as I wish the snow would melt.