Photo Friday is back.

I spent all of last  week-end and this week in NY. It was a mix of fun (a long overdue romantic week-end  with my love) and work.

I took some snapshots that helped me “save” the multi-faceted flavor of this mesmerizing city. See below. No words, in photo Friday fashion…

(The previous photo Fridays: #1 here, #2 here., #3 here and #4 here, #5 here)

(me and my dad making marmellata in the kitchen)

My mother received the original recipe for orange marmalade from a British lady years back, when we were living in London for a couple of years, which is were my sister and brother were both born. I have vague memories of that time since I must have been 3 or 4. Mostly I remember how much I hated cold milk as a snack during recess and how much I loved salt and vinegar chips. The moss on the trees at the park, feeding the ducks at Kew gardens with my sister and our friends Nina and Giulia, business men in pin stripes, Indian food, riding the apple-red double-decker bus, the hippies… Oh, London in the seventies was a curious, magical, happening place. I vaguely remember it, but have a good imprinting from it. And then there was rain, lots and lots of it, but it was a fine mist, a persistent companion throughout the year. Predictable, recurrent, safe… just like this ritual that we took back to Italy with us when we came back. And we brought back many other fond things from England too. My father spoke to me English for a few years more, and to this day I call him “daddy”.

My mother took a winning formula (orange marmalade) and turned it into perfection by using the Sorrento citrus. She experimented with oranges, mandarins, lemons, grapefruits, citron, even kumquats, and sometimes she mixed them up. Each one had it’s uniqueness. But my favorite has always been the mandarin one with an extra touch of tartness from a few added lemons, to balance the sweetness.

The ritual goes like this: first prepare yourself a cup of Twining tea with sugar and shortbread, then put on your wellingtons and rain coat. Now, find yourself a fine woven basket layered with a cloth, head to the garden for a long walk during which you will talk about the stars, the Beatles, the impermanence of being and start collecting the mandarins from the trees. Pause for a while, and eat a few right from the basket, as you sit next to the moss-covered fountain on the wooden bench, facing the gulf of Naples with a snow-covered Vesuvius cap. You’ll want to laugh a little too, and cry, if you have to. Next, proceed to the kitchen quarters, where you will wash the tangerines. Meanwhile, pile up the fireplace with dry wood and light a crackling fire. If you have some, toss some chestnuts in an old blackened pan with holes in the bottom. This will keep you snacking while you prepare the marmalade. Now turn on some music, preferably an old and scratchy LP from the seventies (which my parents have quite a few of: the who, the doors, pink floyd, the beatles,…). Gather all the ingredients around the kitchen table (including the family members) and provide a chopping board and a knife to everyone. No one is exempt. Someone cuts the mandarins in half, someone else squeezes the juice (a good job for the little ones), another person removes the white pith, and then everyone starts cutting the peels in thin slices. All this, while singing some…and chatting a lot. At this point it’s time for a martini: use some of the lemons you just picked up from the garden. Start talking about dinner plans, add in a few memories from London and other travels and that time we burned the marmalade… And keep on working. Now it’s time to make dinner. Have dinner, enjoy another long sit down conversation, cleanup. Allow the peels and juice to sit together overnight, becoming one happy family. Allow the seeds to jelly-fy in water to create natural pectin. Walk on the terrace, stare at the stars, give hugs, go to bed. The next morning, meet everyone in the kitchen to complete the ritual. While you eat a slice of toasted bread with last year’s production of marmalade, and drink coffee and a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, discuss the weather. Then read the paper. Now it’s time to cook the marmalade. Towards the end, add in hot sugar, and then pour into oven-sterilized jars. Wrap some in a checkered fabric and wrap with a silk ribbon. Write down the year and give a jar to someone you really love, as this potion is made with lots of it.

But I digress… here is the recipe:

(squeezing the citruses)

(cutting the peels)

(creating the pectin from the seeds)

(making the seed bundle)

(measuring the height)

(adding the sugar)

(pouring the marmalade into the jars)

(the finished product)

When I was over in Italy over the holidays I ate way too many chocolate “Baci”. These hazelnut and chocolate “kisses” are packaged individually in a starry silver wrapper and come with a love quote. They are every Italian lovers’ favorite gift but they are wonderful at every occasion. So I thought…why not re-create them at home.

They make a wonderful gift for a friend or lover, especially if you add a hand-written letter. With February approaching, love is definitively in the air…

UPDATE: I was filmed recently by the Atlanta TV channel 11 making these chocolate. Watch the VIDEO here or below:

“Baci (kisses)”,

Amelia

Preparing the ingredients. Just 4: Nutella, hazelnuts, cocoa powder, and dark chocolate

Allow the “baci” to dry before packaging:

I packaged my “baci” in a white window-box and marked them with blue stars. Then I created a small love note and rolled it inside the box.

I have been away, traveling to Italy over the holidays… hence my radio silence (no blogging nor tweeting)

It was a very special time spent with my family, so I tried to take in every moment.

I am not quite ready to start blogging again, but here is a photo Friday post with some memories captured on my trip. While there are no words here, I hope you get the spirit…

(The previous photo Fridays: #1 here, #2 here., #3 here and #4 here)

Departing

Sea and sky

Sorrento in winter

Holiday spirit

Driving along the Amalfi coast

Around Sorrento

Visiting Capri

Day trip to Napoli

Playing with shadows, one sunny day at lunch

Garden idyll

My mother, in the kitchen

My father, in the garden

Ingredients and shared meals

Visiting Sicily is one of my favorite summer things to do. That land has been the crossroads of so many different cultures for centuries, which certainly brought many contradictions, but also the richness of its heritage, traditions, people, and foods. And maybe that is why I find America, the place I landed in and live, to be also quite interesting: a convergence of oddly assembled peoples and cultures.  Variety, difference and contrast, I think, are the necessary breeding ground for the ‘new’, for opportunity, and ultimately for change, while stagnation and uniformity does not lead to growth. But I digress… let me get back to the cookies.

My grandmother Paola comes from Sardinia, an equally rich and historically complicated island as Sicily, and she bakes “papassini” for Christmas, a diamond shaped cookie, filled with currants and glazed with sugar and non-pareils. While I like her version very much, I find the Sicilian cousins (“cuccidati” , also known as ‘buccellati’) even more intriguing, because it includes more dried fruit than just currants, and more complex flavors: sweet dried figs, African dates, raisins, candied citron, almonds, chopped hazelnuts, fresh lemon and orange zest, and wonderful aromatic spices. They take on a variety of shapes: wreaths and Xs being the most popular. But more complicated shapes, like animals, are also traditional.

These cookies are definitively a conversation-starter, a crowd-pleaser, and make for great cookie tin gift. Happy baking!

Assembling the ingredients:

Shaping and cutting:

Finishing and preparing to bake:

Glazing…and eating!:

I. just. love. puddles:

they contain a whole universe, if you just step in and look closely

Take a rainy day for a spin and find yourself bubbling inside the splashes

the city lights in the rain will dance in front of you if you dance along with them

then watch the sky clear out, and the mist on the lamp posts turn into glow

Busy time of year, i know, like for everyone, but I am going to savor each small moment.

Especially picking and trimming the Christmas tree with the kids and my husband, listening to carols and jingles

and making cookies (below: frosted lemon-ricotta puffs and lime meltaways – recipes here), dreaming of a white Christmas

and visiting with friends with tables full of goodness

Now: you better behave, because Santa is watching, through the eyes of his mischievous little elf helpers…

…that’s the ‘spirit’ in our house.

Have a great week-end everyone!

People blame the lack of time and money. And then there are all the commercial pressures to give -and get- material gifts.

I can’t say I don’t partake in the rush too, to some degree, but I can’t thank my parents enough (again) for teaching me a different way of living the holidays.

Early on, they ingrained in us the need to be frugal and de-preciate material gifts (we would get one only, each). They would encourage us to “create” something to give (a drawing, a craft, a scarf…  one year -i must have been 8 or 9- I filled small jars with colored water and labeled each “happiness”, “health”, “fun”, “humor”, “love”, and so on and gave them to everyone as my gift). And mostly they would gather us around the kitchen to bake and cook as a family: the true spirit of the holidays. I still have a strong “allergy” to a mound of parcels and the holidays for me are synonymous with 4 elements: fire, food, family, fun.

I try to pass that on to my kids… instead of handing them catalogs of gifts to choose from, I ask them to write a letter to Santa and ask for the ONE thing they most wish for. This year one asked for a lego box, and the other for Pokemon cards. I was so happy to see that they were not writing a shopping list! As for me I asked for a week-end off somewhere romantic with my husband…

The holidays are by no means perfect in our family (after all, cabin fever catches everyone), but there is one thing we give each other more than anything: time. This year, after not having been to visit for Christmas in a while, I am finally headed to Italy for “le vacanze” (the holidays). Ironically, le vacanze in Italian literally means “the vacancies”, as in time to take time-off and do some “dolce far niente” (the sweet doing-nothing). I am bringing with me photographs, a couple of books, a blocked-out calendar, recipes, and much excitement!

And it will be about food, again. Yes, that binding element that brings us together around the table. In that regards, here are three relatively simple (and not terribly time consuming) antipasti that work well for a cheerful holiday gathering: 1) “olive marinate” (olives dressed up with citrus) 2) “baccalà mantecato” (whipped salt cod spread) with crackers, and 3) “bastoncini di sfoglia con gorgonzola, rosmarino e marmellata di fichi” (puff pastry twists with gorgonzola, fig jam, and rosemary).

Ciao and cheers!

1) Olive marinate (olives dressed up with citrus)

This one is the easiest one of the three antipasti to create and you can do it ahead of time.

The trick is getting the best possible olives you can find: crisp, juicy, firm green ones are my favorite: Cerignola, Picholine, Lucque, …

I find the citrus very festive and I add a little secret holiday ingredient to bring out the sweetness of the olives: vanilla.

1 lb. (about 500 gr.) green olives
Zest of 1 lemon and 1 orange
A few slices of orange and lemon
2 tsp. Fennel seeds
2 tsp. Coriander seeds
1 tsp. vanilla
1/4  to 1/2 cup Good quality Italian extra virgin olive oil
Optional: crushed red pepper, TT.
Also optional: 1 clove garlic, smashed

Toss all the ingredients together and allow to marinate for a few hours or -better- overnight.

2) Baccalà mantecato (whipped salt cod spread) with crackers

This Venetian dip is a cousin of the “brandade de morue” from Provençe.

Baccalà is salted cod, and it is a very commonly used ingredient over the holidays in Italy. Mantecare means to whip with fat as to create a creamy consistency.

You need to plan ahead, because the salt cod needs to be soaked for a few days to remove the salt (unless you can find it already de-salted at a specialty store)

500 gr. (1 pound) salt cod, pre-soaked for 2-3 days in cold water (refresh frequently)
2 small potatoes (russet or baking), peeled and diced small
2 garlic cloves, peeled, whole
2 bay leaves
1 liter (4 cups) milk
Optional: 2 anchovy filets
250 ml (1 cup) good quality Italian extra-virgin olive oil
Fresh ground pepper, to taste

Add the pre-soaked salt cod, potatoes, garlic and bay leaves to a pot and cover with the milk. Bring to a boil and cook about half an hour, until the cod is flaky and the potatoes are medium-soft.  Remove the fish, potatoes and garlic with a slotted spoon and set aside (keep the milk!).

Add the cooked cod, potatoes, and garlic, then the anchovies (if using) to the bowl of food processor equipped with a steel knife blade. Pulse a few times to break up the pieces. Add about half cup of the reserved milk and puree the mixture. Next, slowly add the extra virgin olive oil in a thin stream (“a filo”). Add more milk, as needed, to get to a spreadable, smooth consistency. Season with freshly ground pepper.

Serve lukewarm, or cold (if preferred), with pepper water crackers.

3) “Bastoncini di sfoglia con gorgonzola, rosmarino e marmellata di fichi” (puff pastry twists with gorgonzola, fig jam, and rosemary)

Frozen puff pastry is a great invention. I am not big on frozen stuff…but this (together with frozen peas) is one of my few exceptions.

This antipasto comes along really fast, while you prepare martinis for your guests, as a matter of fact. You are preparing one, right?

All you have to remember is to keep the puff pastry in the fridge in time to defrost. Then you roll it out, fill, brush with egg wash, season, bake and voila’.

You can also make them ahead, if you don’t mind them cold. I like mine lukewarm.

Makes 16-18

1 package (2 sheets) good quality frozen puff pastry, thawed in the refrigerator for a few hours
1/2 cup gorgonzola (or other blue cheese), crumbled
1/2 to 3/4 cup fig jam or preserve
A few sprigs rosemary, de-stemmed, and chopped
Fresh ground pepper, to taste
1 egg, beaten with 1 tablespoon cold water (to make an egg wash)

Preheat the oven to 400F (200 C). Line a baking sheet with a silicon mat or parchment paper.
Roll out the puff pastry into a square over a surface dusted with flour, without thinning too much. Spread the fig jam only on half side, leaving a small margin on the edges. Sprinkle the gorgonzola cheese over the jam and then sprinkle a few chopped leaves of rosemary over it. Brush the egg wash (not all of it!) on the other half of the puff pastry as well as around the unfilled edges. Fold the pastry over to form a closed pocket then, using your finger tips, press the edges to seal and remove air bubbles. Very carefully (this is messy business!), using a rolling pin, roll out the large pocket into a larger rectangle. Brush the remaining egg wash over the top and season with fresh ground pepper. Cut into strips using a pizza cutter (i find this to work great), then twist them a few times and place on lined baking sheet. Brush on last time with egg wash. Repeat procedure with the second sheet. Bake 10-14 minutes, until golden brown.

Have you read “Last child in the woods“? I read a few years ago. It inspired me…

I don’t want my children to suffer from “nature-deficit disorder” so we go to the woods whenever we can

trees are not inanimate

they are alive

and we like to hug them

we look up to them

and they remind us of the seasons passing by

After a lovely woods-filled
movie-going

and cozy week-end…

…I headed out of town for work this whole week, flying to Chicago

Looking from a small window into the infinite sky makes me smaller

and it’s even more clear that the city is a matrix

that we live in

tic toc

Bathroom “art”:


A brief afternoon wintry walk

Now I am ready to fly back home. Tomorrow.
Have a good week-end everyone!

There is so much sowing and harvesting that happens in the months leading up to November (and December) and I welcome a pause to reflect on this goodness with my family and friends.

My list of thanks is long as I am blessed and count my blessings everyday.

A few years ago, I had a life-changing moment. I contracted meningitis. I was rushed to the hospital and stayed there for a week in intensive care. I then had a slow 6 month recovery. I was terrified when it happened: my head was in huge pain, I was extremely sensitive to light and I thought I was going to die. My husband was super-prompt in detecting the signs and immediately took me to the hospital. Once I overcome the crisis, with patience, love and care he helped me recover, taking care of me, the kids, and everything else. For a few months I was extremely weak. I also had mononucleosis at the same time. But it all went away, eventually.

Like with every brushed encounter with death, this was a spiritual and leveling time. It turned on a switch in me that never goes off: thank-full-ness… for life is fleeting, unpredictable, and finite.

After that episode, life has been fuller for me than it was before. I try (my best) to live each day as if it were the last one, always looking for something special to be thankful, be it small (a new fruit in season, the reflection of a stick in a puddle, dancing in the kitchen, writing my morning pages) or infinite (love, my family, Nature, light, God).

This Thanksgiving, I gathered my family plus a special friend around the table  and we said our usual thanks: “Dear God: thank you for another beautiful day, thank you for this food we are about to eat, thank you for our family and friends, thank you for keeping us healthy… and please watch over all those in need. Amen”

May the feast begin!

We sourced a locally grown organic heritage turkey, brined it and then roasted it, according to Alton Brown’s directions.

Our sides included aunt Greta’s stuffing (made with mashed potatoes, bread, onions,celery, parsley), green beans almondine, caramelized shallots and fennel, broccoli and corn pudding, sweet potato and ginger souffle’, roasted cawliflower, orange and cranberry sauce,  Parkehouse rolls, gravy. Everyone did something. We all contributed to this convivial meal.

The cocktail du jour was a dramatic “prosecco al melograno” (Italian sparkling wine with pomegranate seeds): simply fill champagne flutes with pomegranate seeds and “bleed” a few of them for some drops of juice. Then pour in some cold, bubbly Prosecco (or champagne). The seeds will rise atop, as if dancing, in a drunk frenzy, as the bubbles fizz up.

I also made “Castagne bollite con lauro e finocchietto”: chestnuts boiled with bay leave and fennel seeds. This is something very typical from Southern Italy, especially during this time of year. You have to slit the chestnuts before placing them in a large pot of water with salt, a couple bay leaves and a couple of tablespoons of fennel seeds. They will need to simmer for about 40 minutes or until tender. Once ready, you can peel them and enjoy them warm. The meat is sweet, nutty, aromatic and tender: very different from the flavor and texture of a roasted chestnut.

Finally, we closed the evening with two dessert I tried for the very first time: a kumquat meringue pie and a mince-pie lattice tart. For the crust, I used the fool-proof, all-butter, really-flaky crust from smitten kitchen.

I adapted the lemon meringue pie recipe from the stellar Luscious Lemon Desserts, substituting lemons with kumquats (and integrating the juice with some tangerine juice, because kumquats don’t have much to squeeze out of them!). To decorate, I candied some sliced kumquats (refer to one of my previous posts for how to candy kumquats)

For the mince pie, I kind of improvised the filling, loosely inspired by this 1991 Bon Appétit version. I did my very first lattice top. And, NO, I did not use suet, for the traditionalists out there wondering!

I forgot to mention that I really “deserved” my feast this year: I run and finished my very first half Marathon the morning of Thanksgiving (in just over 2 hours).

I am giving thanks.

Every day.

The thought has been an extra help to watch for the magic and surreal, the unusual and the minimally quotidian, the changing world around me.

So here are some visual thoughts and visions I captured with my phone.

London fog, in my city

Weeeeeee… into the rabbit hole, because, you see, I am Alice (so I think)

because I do find strange creatures coming alive all around me, all the time

and build pillow and blanket forts in the library… navigating to where the wild things are

and i ride my bike with my kids as if i were one of them


and go time traveling in the park

The city is a strange and lovely place, especially if you catch it when people are sleeping or napping

The city is a also fine place to witness the season changes. Winter brings less “foliage” and more time to reflect

time for quiet walks at the park

or at the school playground

and time to start dreaming of Christmas magic

and Santa and kissing under the mistletoe

and time for family and home-made French toast with blackberries and maple syrup

Have a wonderful week-end everyone!