Internet craze apple roses

These super easy "apple roses" are all over the internet lately.

Everyone's making them, my son and I even crafted some at the latest cooking school session we attended together.

This got me thinking that I absolutely have to get my baking act together. This recipe is a great way for begginners to approach baking.

The thought that organically followed was, "This classic flaky dough wrapped around apple slices "glued" together with apricot jam can be transformed into fun variations."

In addition to the ubiquitous apple rose recipe, I'm adding a few savory suggestions to up your aperitivo game or your children's merenda snacks.


Internet craze apple roses

Preheat oven to 200° C (390° F)
Cut 2 apples in half and core. Do not peel. As a matter of fact, choose Gala or Red Delicious varieties whose red skin creates a beautiful color contrast with the cream colored pulp.
Slice the apple halves thinly and drop in acidulated water.
Prepare a basic syrup (2 parts sugar and 1 part water) and soften the apple slices in it for 2 minutes.
Dust with 1 teaspoon of ground cinnamon, toss to coat evenly and allow to cool.
Using a pastry cutter, cut a rectangular sheet of puff pastry into 2-inch strips.

Brush the strips with warmed apricot jam and lay the apple slices on the top half of the strip, slightly overlapping them.

Fold up the bottom half of the strip and starting from one end, roll the strip on itself.

Place each rolled "rose" in buttered ramekins or paper lined muffin molds.

Sprinkle a little brown sugar on the surface of each rose.

Bake in hot oven for approximately 20 minutes.

Dust with confectioner's sugar before serving.


Sweet & savory spin-offs using the puff pastry as a base

• Use pears instead of apples, and spread white or dark chocolate instead of jam, sprinkle chocolate chips as garnish
• Use celery slices, spread peanut butter, garnish with coarsely ground peanuts or slivered almonds
• Strawberries and ricotta
• Pancetta and smoked cheese
• Pears and gorgonzola
• Peaches and nutella
• Grilled zucchini and goat cheese
• Salami and stracchino cheese
• Roast pumpkin and brie
• Lox and cream cheese garnished with arugula
• Roast potato and caramelized leek...

I can keep going if you like.

Image © Giorgia Di Sabatino – Elliot Baldwin – dlicedorient.blogspot.it 

Recipe for Scabbardfish Involtini

Some people are under the (wrong) impression that cooking fish is a complicated affair. It is not! Actually fish is much easier to cook than meat.

When I last visited Siracusa in spring, the Ortigia market was jumping with activity already in the early morning, with the fabulous fish stalls attracting my attention. A vast array of fresh-from-the-sea gleaming, silvery creatures of every sort, including scabbardfish, which is such an underestimated marine delight.

Should you be lucky enough to chance upon sensational scabbardfish, here is a fantastic involtini recipe I learned in Siracusa...

Continue Reading on Casa Mia ➔

Saturn Peach Gingersnap Tartlets

No, I'm not baking, are you kidding?! Italy is suffering the worst heatwave in 135 years. Nope, not a typo: one-hundred-and-thirty-five years. It's so hot I hardly have the energy to cook, let alone bake.

But every now and then, I allow myself a small digression from the "eating plan" and make something sweet. I make dessert, even in the middle of this crazy Italian summer (See what I did there? I called it an eating plan, I didn't use the D-word).

Plus, taking advantage of the season's amazing fruit, I convince myself that these desserts don't even constitute a danger for said diet eating plan. A great solution for eating sweet yet healthy in summer is making large batches of fruit smoothies. The best employment of the smoothie? Mixing in 1 tbsp of sugarless jam (of the same fruit you pureed), pouring it in plastic cups and stacking them in the freezer. Hello, healthy homemade popsicles.

If ice lollies are not your thing, and need something a little more substantial to chew on, you could always make my failsafe "tartellette alle pesche saturnine". Saturn (or donut) peaches – also locally called tabacchiere because they resemble tobacco snuff boxes – are my favorite stone fruit. If you've been reading this blog long enough you may remember how I even made tiramisu with Saturn peaches. Today's recipe is an ode to sloth and laziness. No cooking, no baking, just putting together great seasonal ingredients for a sweet summer cuddle.

These particular tartlets combine the aromatic, succulent pinkish flesh of the Saturn peach, with the spiced kick of ginger contained in the base, and the cold, creamy middle. I use ricotta, but you could use mascarpone, gelato, cream cheese, Greek yogurt or – if you're feeling particularly sinful – gorgonzola. Or even burrata.

Yes, I said burrata, stop salivating.

There's no need to turn on the oven to enjoy these Saturn peach tartlets. Just start with a great cookie to begin with, and assemble your way up. I'm using Pepparkakor biscuits, known outside of Sweden as ginger snaps, or ginger thins.

Quantity of units is up to you. I put out all the ingredients and eat as I build, while binge-watching my favorite Netflix series.

Ingredients, in liberal amounts
Ginger thins
Ricotta cheese (or gelato, mascarpone, cream cheese, Greek yogurt, gorgonzola or burrata)
Saturn peaches, rinsed and sliced

Slather your dairy cream of choice on cookie. Top with sliced peaches. Devour.
Repeat.

Buon appetito!

Succulent Cicale di Mare – Mantis Shrimp

The name mantis shrimp is actually a misnomer because despite their appearance, the animals aren't shrimp at all, some actually categorize them in the crab realm. They don't resemble crabs either, but much rather their namesake, the mantis, and are equally ferocious predators.

Mantis shrimps are highly aggressive and solitary crustaceans that capture prey using large, raptorial claws much like those of a praying mantis. Many are beautifully colored in neon shades of red, green and blue. The Italian Adriatic variety is grayish pink and sports a second decoy set of eyes on its frayed tail, to throw off its prey before lobbing it unconscious.

Called "sea locusts", "prawn killers" and "shako", mantis shrimp are sometimes referred to as "thumb splitters" by divers – because of the relative ease the creature has in mutilating small appendages. Italians dub these feisty little creatures a variety of names: pannocchie, cicale di mare, cannocchie, spannocchie, balestrin... whatever the name, they sport powerful claws that they use to attack and kill prey by spearing, stunning, clubbing or dismembering. The "punch" delivered has roughly the acceleration of a .22 caliber bullet. Not joking. Mantis shrimp easily break through shellfish and have been known to crack aquarium glass with a single strike from their lethal weapon.

actual size

But don't let this freak you out, inside that nasty camo armor is a tasty, succulent flesh.

In Mediterranean countries the Squilla mantis is common seafood, especially on Adriatic Sea coasts. Inexpensive and available year round, the best time to eat it – when the crustacean is the plumpest – is between March and November.

This particular Trieste recipe stars our belligerent spearers, locally called canoce.

• 1 kg (2.2 lbs) mantis shrimp (if you have difficulty finding them, opt for the sweetest shrimp or prawns you can get your claws on)
• 2 glasses of white wine (one's for drinking while you cook)
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• A bunch of flat leaf Italian parsley
• 1/2 cup breadcrumbs
• Extra virgin olive oil
• Salt

Cut an incision lengthwise down the shrimp's belly, this will release flavor compounds leaving the flesh safely lodged in the carapace armor plates. Do not remove heads, they add flavor.

Sauté the minced garlic in 2-3 tbsp of olive oil, when the garlic starts to tan, add the breadcrumbs and parsley. Stir a bit and add your shell fiends. Pour in the wine, crank up the heat and boil it to evaporation.

If you have some leftover fish stock, either frozen or standing by, a few drops can add even more flavor. Regain a medium simmer, cover and cook over low heat for no more than 7 minutes. Serve immediately, with plenty bread to sop up the juices.

Now it's your turn to dismember, suck, bite off and give a dignified finale to the bellicose sea warriors. Nutcrackers, lobster picks, chicken shears and a large bib may come in handy.

Pasta con le fave ~ Pasta with fava beans

I love this season, it brings with it sunshine, allergies and all my favorite vegetables.
Every Wednesday, my CSA delivers a box with bushels of asparagus, artichokes, crisp heads of lollo lettuce, romanesco broccoli, striped zucchini topped with precious blossoms, free range chicken and eggs, cheese and fruit all hailing from nearby organic Lazio farms. In each box also comes a handful of recipes employing the ingredients of that week.

With the 2 kilos of fava beans that came in this week's haul, I celebrated the national holiday of April 25th, commemorating Italy's liberation from Nazi occupation in 1945. The patriotic fava beans are a common way to end a typical Roman spring meal, provided these be paired with sharp pecorino romano cheese. A match made in heaven.

With the leftover fava beans in my basket, I can either make Vignarola – a versatile miscellany of tender artichokes, fava beans, peas, romaine lettuce hearts, spring onions, lavish amounts of black pepper, and, yes, guanciale (I can actually see the smiles fading from your vegetarian faces) – or a pasta recipe I recently learned while shooting a web series in Capri... But that's another story.

Pasta con le Fave
Ingredients for 4 

1 kg fresh fava beans (some call them broad beans), shelled and peeled
2 garlic cloves, peeled and smashed
Extra virgin olive oil
1 bay leaf
1 peperoncino hot pepper (according to taste)
1 spring onion, thinly sliced
50 gr (1/4 cup) breadcrumbs, toasted
100 gr (1/2 cup) pecorino cheese, grated
400 gr (14 oz) pappardelle type pasta

Film-coat a large skillet with olive oil and lightly sauté the garlic with the bay leaf and the hot pepper.

In a separate small saucepan, do the same with the onion, sauteing it until translucent, about 10 minutes.

Boil the shelled and peeled fava beans in plenty unsalted water. Once tender, fish out the fava beans and save the water, you'll be boiling your pasta in it. Finish cooking the fava beans in the skillet and add the onions, adjust seasoning with a pinch of salt, while stirring with a wooden spoon until all flavors are well blended.

Cook the pasta al dente in the fava water, and drain 2 minutes before the time it says on the box. Toss in the skillet with the fava beans, simmer with a ladle of cooking water, blending over a vivacious flame. 

Finish with two handfuls of toasted breadcrumbs, a thread of olive oil, and a generous dusting of grated pecorino cheese. Serve immediately, washed down with a sincere Frascati.
Buon appetito.

Top image ©E.Baldwin - bottom ©foodwolf.com

Mozzarella fritta recipe

Image © PiccanteDolce

Fried food.

I can't get enough of it.

Rome is big on fried things, and my favorite diet sin is ordering fritto misto all'italiana and doing serious damage to my arteries.

I've posted recipes of many of the elements that compose this fabulous deep-fried dish: Mozzarella in Carrozza, Arancini, Panelle, Zucchini blossoms, Olive Ascolane, fried sage leaves and even fried custard.

But there's one component of fritto misto all'italiana that I love above all else, and that's fried mozzarella. A crisp, cunchy golden crust that conceals a hot, melty and milky filling. Just writing about it makes my mouth water.

When I get the craving for some mozzarella fritta there are two things I can do: hop down to the trusted pizzeria next door and get two orders to go; or fry some myself. Here's how I do it.

2 bocconcini of mozzarella di bufala (bocconcini are the 3-inch balls)
2 eggs, beaten
Flour for dredging
Breadcrumbs mixed with a small pinch of polenta (cornmeal)
Vegetable oil for frying
Salt

Beat the eggs in a bowl, and heat oil in a large frying pan. If you are the lucky owner of an electric fryer, I envy you.

Cube the mozzarella and dredge in flour. Then dunk in the egg wash, coat well with breadcrumbs, and fry until golden.

Drain on paper towel, dust with a pinch of salt, and serve immediately.

Delizioso!

Pomodori al Tonno recipe

I'm a hard worker, but not in summer. In summer I'm lazy.

Even in the kitchen.

Plus it's hot, and working by the stove–or even worse, the oven–in this weather, is torture.

Like today, for example. I wasn't feeling too good, I had no appetite (a bad sign for me), and I didn't have the desire to even swim once. What I did do was take a nice walk in the property's orto (vegetable garden) with a large basket, and returned home with inspiration.

And lunch.

The good thing about spending time in the country is that you don't have to bother going grocery shopping. The produce is all home-grown, and every family has a ridiculously well-stocked pantry. Olive oil, wine, jams and preserves, canned vegetables, honey, bottled sauces, eggs, sausages, herbs, bread... everything is sourced or made right here, on the premises.

When I rinsed the field dust off these tomatoes, they were still warm from the sun.

I whipped this dish up in 10 minutes, and it managed to restore a smile on my face.

And a grumble to my tummy.

6 small Vesuvio tomatoes, halved
200 g (1 cup) oil-packed tuna, drained and flaked
2 ribs of baby white celery, diced
3-4 tablespoons of light mayonnaise
Pinch of salt

Scoop out the pulp from the tomatoes, removing seeds and watery parts, and set aside.

Chop the tomato pulp, toss in a mixing bowl with remaining ingredients, and stir to mix well.

Divide the mixture and scoop it into the halved tomatoes. Refrigerate 30 minutes before serving.

Uncork the chilled Sauvignon and put your feet up, it's summer and you deserve a break after all this hard work.


Buon appetito.

Ricotta and cacao recipe

After snuggly morning wishes, a sloppy kiss and a wonderful drawing of the two of us, my son informed me that, "Mother's Day is also Childrens' Day."

I wouldn't be a mother if it weren't for him, so the kid did have a point.

I'm assuming the battery operated dump truck he's been coveting for the past week had something to do with his statement.

With the lovely Mother's Day celebrations behind us, I'm making a treat for my dad. He's not been feeling well lately, and there's always a sense of helplessness that comes with living on the other side of the world from him.

So tonight I'm making him virtual dessert. He never says no to the meal's sweet endings, and ricotta and cacao is one of his favorites.

Image © lacucinadicalycanthus.net

This dessert is refreshing and chocolaty, not too fattening, and essentially one that can be easily made at home, in a moment.


250 g (1 cup) fresh sheep's ricotta
5 tbsp. Dutch cocoa powder
2 tbsp. sugar
A pinch of ground cinnamon (optional)

Work the cocoa powder and sugar into the ricotta with a fork to obtain an even blend. The provided quantities depend greatly on individual taste, so go ahead and tweak as you wish.

Fill dessert goblets, champagne flutes or Martini glasses with the flavored cheese, dust the surface with more cocoa powder or chocolate sprinkles, add a dash of cinnamon, or garnish with finger biscuits, if you like.

If at all possible, use genuine, fresh sheep's ricotta. It's not always easy to find, but the natural flavor, aroma and softness of this product, paired with the bitter cocoa, is una meraviglia.

Get well soon, daddy.

Cacio e pepe recipe

To hell with the diet. I made cacio e pepe tonight.

This typical Roman pasta dish is a simple cheese, black pepper and starch combination, and a hallmark of the Testaccio district, the early 1900s housing project that developed around the now defunct abattoir, in the southern part of the city.

Pasta cacio e pepe is enjoying a moment of popularity, everyone's crazy about the old cucina povera quick fix. Restaurants in Italy and overseas are sometimes charging eyebrow-raising sums for a plateful. But on a par with aio e oio, cacio e pepe has always been a reliable and expeditious solution in case of sloth, self-invited last minute guests, or for post fornication midnight munchies.

Image © senzapanna

One of the best types of pasta to use for cacio e pepe is fresh tonarelli all'uovo, a thick and squared-section noodle made with eggs, flour and love.

That said, 400 g (14 oz) of the largest size durum wheat spaghetti you can find will do just fine
1 cup Pecorino Romano cheese, grated
Lots of coarsely ground black pepper
E basta. (no olive oil, no butter, no cream)

Cook the pasta until al dente in 1 gallon of lightly salted water. Remember, fresh pasta cooks much quicker than the dried kind.

In the meantime grate Pecorino cheese and grind the pepper.

Loosely drain the pasta, saving more starchy cooking water.

Toss the cooked pasta into a large warmed bowl, adding handfuls of cheese and freshly ground black pepper, and adding more of the saved cooking water to blend. Using a wooden spoon, stir vigorously until creaminess ensues.

Don't skimp on the pepper, lash away––the condiment should be quite spicy.

Uncork the red wine and quietly devour at tongue-burning temperature.

(Diet can resume tomorrow)

Panna Cotta recipe

The other day, when I pointed out panna cotta to one of my clients during a foodie walk, he returned a puzzled look.

Panna Cotta is a silky, light textured dessert from Northern Italy. It is served chilled and usually drizzled with wild berry sauce, caramel or melted dark chocolate.

The name literally translates to, "cooked cream," it's ridiculously easy to make and can be prepared up to two days ahead, as long as kept well-covered and chilled. Some suggest to actually make ahead for added flavor.

To impress your guests with authentic panna cotta, here's what you need to do with:

500 ml (2 cups) heavy cream
1 1/2 tsp. unflavored gelatin (I find it in sheets. I use 3, the equivalent of 6 grams)
150 g (3/4 cup) confectioner's sugar, sifted
1 tsp. vanilla extract
Ramekins, parfait or custard cups, muffin pans, Martini glasses, or shot glasses

Heat the heavy cream and sugar in a saucepan. Once the sugar is dissolved, remove the saucepan from the stove, and stir in the vanilla extract. Purists can on the other hand scrape the inside of a vanilla bean.

Soak the gelatin in a medium bowl with cold water for 5-10 minutes.

Pour the hot cream mixture over the gelatin, and stir until dissolved. If you're using sheet gelatin, first soften the sheets in 4 cups of cold water for 5-10 minutes. Wring the sheets out, discard the water and stir the softened sheets into the hot panna cotta mixture, whisking until blended.

Pour the mixture in individual serving containers, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for about 4 hours or until set.

When ready to serve, dip the bottom of each container into a bowl of very hot water for a few seconds. Place a serving plate on top and turn over to easily dislodge.

Decorate your panna cotta with mint leaves and either a thin raspberry coulis, warmed caramel sauce or melted dark chocolate. 

If you're in a rush, pour the panna cotta mixture into Martini goblets so you can serve them without unmolding; sprinkled with only a few chocolate shavings and a dash of cinnamon.

Insalata di Riso recipe

Yes, it's officially here.

Jumpers and overcoats get pushed to the bottom of the closet, with cool cotton and light linen beginning to forward in the frontline. Grassy patches are dotted with small daisies, and the balmy Roman air is swirling with pollen and sycamore fuzz (my heart is with you, allergic subjects. This time of year's not equally welcomed). I love spring. Clocks are wound forward, granting longer hours of sunlight; hormones surge and everyone looks happier on their scooters and bicycles.

I like to welcome the onset of primavera with exaggerated enthusiasm, spending lots of time outdoors, rolling around in damp grass with my toddler, and anticipating classic summer recipes.

Quintessence of these (and thrifty re-use of leftovers) is insalata di riso, a pasta salad that employs rice instead of pasta, and many finely chopped ingredients tossed in for flavor (and to clean the fridge).

Image © Corbis

I've made this recipe extra rich to give you an idea of what can go into Insalata di Riso. Feel free to tone it down, substitute other things, or adding more for variety, according to your taste. One ingredient I commonly find in this preparation is mozzarella. As much as I like the milky pasta filata cheese, and pair it to almost anything I can think of, I somehow find it inappropriate in this preparation. But that's just me.

300 g (1 1/2 cups or 5 fistfuls) parboiled rice (the grains should not stick)
Either: 250 gr(1 cup) oil-canned tuna, drained and shredded
Or: 2 franks, cooked and sliced in flat buttons
100 g (1/2 cup) slab of regular deli ham, diced
100 g (1/2 cup) Fontina or Swiss cheese, diced
50 g (1/4 cup) black olives, pitted and sliced
1 dill pickle, diced
2 ripe, peeled, seeded tomatoes, diced (optional)
50 g (1/4 cup) artichoke hearts in oil, diced (optional)
1-2 tbsp. cooked peas (optional)
One half yellow bell pepper, minced
2 hard-boiled eggs, sliced or quartered (optional)
1 tbsp. capers (optional)
1 tbsp. fresh basil, minced
50 g (1/4 cup) olive oil or light mayonnaise
1 tbsp. lemon juice
Salt and pepper to taste


Cook the rice in lots of boiling, slightly salted water. Rinse it with cold water, drain and let it cool off. Meanwhile, assemble the remaining ingredients. Once the rice has cooled, combine all the chopped ingredients, rice and dressing in a large serving bowl, and chill the salad in the refrigerator.

My favorite variation is a posh rice salad made with rice, smoked salmon slivers, 2 types of caviar (red and gray) and steamed, shelled baby scampi. I toss everything with a bit of mayo and chill before serving. It's very good.

15-minute fish recipe

Some folks are intimidated by cooking fish, and I used to be to. My fears started at the fishmonger's. Was I choosing the correct variety for what I wanted to make? Was it going to be full of bones, or likely to fall apart in the pan?

Then I discovered that in the kitchen, if the ingredients are fresh and the method stays simple, there's very little that can go wrong. Here's a first step towards conquering your seafood stovetop fears.

This ridiculously tasty fish recipe virtually takes 15 minutes to make. If you don’t trust me get a stopwatch and the following:


4 white fish fillets (any kind you like, as long as super fresh. I usually use trout, amberjack or Dover sole)
4 tbsp. breadcrumbs (preferably home made)
4 tbsp. Parmigiano cheese, grated
2 tbsp. mixed fresh herbs (basil, chives, dill, thyme, sage, parsley)
1 unwaxed lemon
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Heat oven at 390° F, and go relax in a tub of floral infused water and bath salts.

Start the stopwatch. Scrub the lemon with baking soda to remove any grit, dry well and obtain 1 tablespoon of grated rind.

In a small bowl, mix cheese, breadcrumbs, herbs and lemon zest.

Place the fish fillets skin down on an oiled oven sheet, season with salt and pepper, then sprinkle with flavor mixture.

Drizzle with olive oil and bake in hot oven for 5 minutes. 

Check the stopwatch.

Tonno ubriaco recipe

Tonno ubriaco means drunken tuna: a basic recipe originating in the seaport city of Livorno. It takes 10 minutes to make and can save the day in case of unexpected (and famished) dinner guests.

4 large fresh tuna steaks
3/4 cup of red wine
1 small onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, peeled
1 sprig of Italian flatleaf parsley, finely chopped – I use fresh basil because I can't eat parsley
1 cup unbleached flour
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

Sauté the garlic in olive oil over medium heat and remove it from the frying pan before it browns. Add chopped onion and parsley/basil to the pan. 

Dredge the tuna steaks with flour and cook along with the onion for 5 minutes. Add the wine, crank up the heat and allow it to evaporate.

Serve the steaks with the resulting fondo, fresh garden greens and golden fried potatoes.

The wine? Pairs well with either white or red, as long as dry and somewhat chilled.

{the tonnara at Scopello, Sicily}

Frollini, Italian shortbread cookie recipe

I love it when you dunk a cookie in a hot cup of tea or a chilled glass of milk and just as you’re bringing it to your mouth for a sensual devouring kiss, it drops messily back in the liquid, attracted more by love for the beverage, than gravity pull. 

This happens especially with those shortbread-like, buttery cookies commonly called frollini in Italian.  Ignoring the disastrous milk-spattered battleground around my mug, I fish the sunken frollini out with my spoon. They are completely reduced to a mushy, almost liquid state. The smaller crumbs that swim effortlessly at the bottom of my cup, swirl back into my mouth, as I drink the last sweet drops of the cloudy cookie soup.

I usually make my frollini in the evening, letting them cool overnight so I can eat them first thing in the morning–paired in twos–in a back-to-back dive in my steaming pint of breakfast caffelatte. This makes a large batch.

500 g (1.1 lb) all purpose flour
180 g (1 scant cup) sugar
100 g (1/2 cup) butter (I use salted)
1 egg, beaten
3 tbsp. whole milk, warmed
2 tbsp. organic honey
1 tsp. baking powder
Salt (if your butter is unsalted)


Preheat oven at 180° C (356° F).

Work the butter and sugar with a fork into a frothy fluff. Add the beaten egg, the honey and a pinch of salt, mixing with your fingers.

Dissolve the baking powder in the warmed milk, sift in the flour and add it all to the mixture, kneading gently into a smooth ball.

Flatten with a rolling pin to 1/8-inch and cut out shapes with a cookie cutter. 

Sprinkle with sugar. Bake on a buttered cookie sheet for 10-15 minutes.

It's dark outside and it smells wonderful in the kitchen.

Roasted olive salad

On Tuesdays my farmer friend and agriculture guru Franco sells his produce on a small makeshift stall at my local produce market. He drives his minivan 25 Km from his coastal country farm, delivering us freshness and health once a week, all year long. This is as local and organic as it gets. 

As I walk up and elbow my way to the front of Franco's crowded display of vegetables, fruits, flowers and freshly laid eggs, I notice the hand painted sign. It reads: "Open on Wed-Thur-Sat too. Thank you, spring."

And indeed I see why Franco has decided to triple his effort, the bounty on sale is virtually amazing. Baby spring zucchini topped with flowers, redolent red peppers, slender eggplant, bright green cratefuls of garden greens–trimmed and already washed, juicy cherry tomatoes the size of a fingernail, fave, chickory, deep purple artichokes, the very last puntarelle of the season, asparagus, radicchio tardivo; and then crisp apples, the curiously fuzzy local kiwi variety, blood oranges and stout pears, warming in the sun. 

When it's my turn finally, Franco smiles, snaps a pod and shells me a tiny handful of exquisite fresh baby peas. The sweet, green globules burst in my mouth bringing back forgotten sensory memories.

Needless to say, even if Franco will be around the neighborhood more often, I ended up buying a large weekly supply of fruits and vegetables. I usually never shop with a list in mind, I just let the ingredients at hand inspire me.

So besides the produce and the bunch of lilacs that now make my house smell like paradise, I also bought some of Franco's homemade roasted black olives.

I soaked them in water and rinsed them well, letting them drip dry.

Tossed them in a bowl with a little olive oil, cracked black pepper, a wee pinch of salt and omitted the peperoncino flakes I usually add to the dressing, because my son wanted to taste them.

Then I chopped in a slice of mandarin orange complete with its rind, and skewered a fork in the largest clove of garlic I could find, and used that to stir.

I then let the whole thing marinate for a few hours and later enjoyed a delicious aperitivo of zesty citrus-flavored roasted olives with a glass of Lacrima di Morro d'Alba, a lovely red wine from Le Marche region.

The bread is still warm. Birds chirp and the sun is shining.

As Franco so plainly puts it–thank you, spring.

Zuppa Pavese recipe

According to tradition this dish was born in 1525, on the day King François I de Valois was defeated by Emperor Charles V of the Holy Roman Empire during the Battle of Pavia.

The king pronounced the historical phrase "Everything is lost but honor." According to legend, there was at least one other thing His Majesty hadn’t lost––his appetite.

He stormed the Pavese countryside, famished, in search of something to eat. Finally he arrived at a farm called Cascina Repentita, where a peasant woman was brewing a soup. The king told her who he was and that he was very hungry.

The woman placed a piece of old bread and some cheese in a bowl, covered it all with broth and then, thinking that this food was perhaps not noble enough for a king––even a defeated one––she went to the henhouse, picked up two eggs and broke them into his soup bowl.

After eating the peasant woman's Zuppa Pavese King François judged it "fit for kings," and upon his return to France had it included in the court's royal menu. How's that for an endorsement?

Ingredients for 6 serving:
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoon olive oil
Italian style bread, cut in six 1-inch slices
6 cups rich chicken or beef broth
6 free-range eggs
Salt and freshly ground white pepper
2 cups freshly grated Parmigiano, plus more on the table

Heat the butter and olive oil in a skillet and sauté the bread browning it on both sides, then remove and place on paper towels.

Meanwhile bring the broth to a vivacious simmer and keep it there.

Heat individual soup dishes or bowls in the oven, place a slice of bread in each bowl, and crack an egg onto each slice of bread, being very careful not to break the yolk.

Dust with Parmigiano, salt and pepper to taste; once all eggs are placed on the toast, carefully ladle the very hot broth in the bowls (not directly over the yolks, or they'll break). The heat of the stock will cook the eggs. 

If the eggs are not cooked to your taste, place bowls in a hot oven for a minute or two. 

What wine to pour with this dish? Pinot Nero dell'Oltrepò Pavese, of course.

Scrambled eggs with brie, walnuts and truffle recipe

In my cuisine/lifestyle manuscript (sitting in a drawer, waiting for a brave publisher to give it life), besides illustrating traditional Italian dishes, typical holiday food and a wide section dedicated to comfort food, or those recipes that satisfy nocturnal cravings and healthy kids' appetites, there is a chapter titled "seduction." 

I am not limiting this to the pleasures of the alcove. When I cook for others–be it for a single special individual or for a significant group–I want to play and tease, making my guests and their appetites feel loved and tickled. I want to attract them, tempt them into the guilty pleasures of the dinner table, and see the abandon in their eyes as they indulge in a third helping. I use my culinary seduction weapons (apron and wooden spoon, mostly) to astound and revive indolent couch-bound friends, or see a smile surface on a gloomy face. I like to provoke with food, it gives me the power to balance out lost harmony. Anyone who loves to cook, has then certainly pursued undecided suitors on a special date with a challenging dish. Offered large portions of plenty as a peace sign to grumpy in-laws. Or fed noisy dinner guest a meal to remember just to enjoy the silence as they speechlessly ingested. That, too, is the 'kitchen burlesque' I advocate.

So it's only natural for me to believe that the noblest form of persuasion and beguiling titillation is through the art of cooking a perfect meal. Food is sexy, period. The obvious oysters, copious amounts of caviar eaten with fingers and fountains spilling gallons of chilled champagne? It may be surprising to some, but many sensual foods and preparations are, on the contrary, affordable and quite unsophisticated.

Were you aware, for example, that anchovies are a potent aphrodisiac? On a par with chili peppers, pine nuts, anise, basil, carrots, pistachio nuts, almonds, arugula, sage, turnips, parsley, and one of the supposed intimacy-spoilers, garlic? Also, think pomegranate kernels loosely scattered on rare grilled meats, lightly steamed asparagus wantonly dribbled with melted butter, or the amazing texture of avocado which has been stained with balsamic vinegar.

Choose a few key luxurious flavors for your seduction repast, well studied lighting, a fine bottle of wine, alluring music and attire, and even a plate of scrambled eggs can count as foreplay.

Soft scrambled eggs with brie, walnuts and truffle recipe

Fifteen minutes to assemble, five to prepare. Leaves you all the time you need for a relaxing bath, lighting the candles and rubbing lemon juice and olive oil on your skin. For an orgy of four, prepare:

6 free-range eggs
100 g (1/2 cup) walnuts, shelled and lightly toasted
150 g (3/4 cup) brie, room temperature
1 small truffle
1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 tablespoon heavy cream
Salt and white pepper to taste

In a mixing bowl, beat the eggs and season with salt and pepper.

Cut the brie in thin matchsticks and finely chop the walnuts except for a few. Play a soft ballad in the background while you do this.

Melt the butter in a heavy-bottomed skillet, and pour in the beaten eggs. Stir in the slivered cheese and ground walnuts. Add a few truffle shavings and stir with a wooden or plastic whisk (to avoid scratching the bottom of your pan) for a brief moment.

Remove the skillet from the stove and continue stirring to melt the cheese and obtain a soft creamy texture. Serve warm garnished with more shaved truffle, and the remaining walnut meats. Don't forget the wine.

And this was only the appetizer... 

Stocco e Patane - Cod and potato casserole recipe

Christmas Eve in the southern regions of Italy is traditionally all about a massive fish-based dinner, family, tombola, and midnight Mass. From now until Natale, I shall be posting recipes of typical Christmas fare, desserts and traditional holiday foods.
Last week Italia Living published an article on the history of Pandoro, a typical Italian Christmas cake. Today I will tell you about a tasty fish entree of which I am very fond of.

Stocco is the Neapolitan distortion of the term used for stoccafisso, which is sun-dried cod. When someone is said to be as rigid as a stoccafisso, the implied similarity to the Atlantic fish plank is quite evident. The surfboard-stiff slabs need reviving with overnight soaking, so if you’re in a hurry to taste this delicious cucina povera dish, I suggest you have your fishmonger prepare and clean some fresh codfish for you, divided into 6 fillet portions.

Image © Claudio Cicali

This tasty peasant dish from Napoli is–contrary to the belief that fish is laborious to cook–very easy to make. Stocco e Patane is delicious when paired to a chilled bottle of Fiano di Avellino or a room temperature carafe of young Chianti Classico (I personally prefer red with tomato-stewed cod).

6 codfish fillets 

600 g (1.3 lbs/3 cups) potatoes, peeled and cut in wedges

2 small onions, thinly sliced 

1 can (14 oz) San Marzano tomatoes, roughly chopped

Extra virgin olive oil 

Salt

A small pinch of dried oregano 

Drizzle some olive oil in a high-rimmed pot (Dutch oven). Place a layer of sliced potatoes and onions on the bottom of the pot. Cover with the chopped tomatoes, season with salt and sprinkle with oregano. On this bed, lay the fish fillets and repeat the layering.

Season with a bit more salt and oregano, and drizzle with a little more olive oil. Cover and simmer over medium heat for 10-15 minutes.

Avoid stirring and check for doneness. If the fish is cooked before the potatoes, remove it and continue cooking the vegetables.

When ready to serve, place the fish back in the pot and heat for a minute or two.

Serve the fillets warm, topped with the onion and potato slices.

Be my guest - Tangy Sweet Salmon recipe

For this week's installment of Be my guest I'll be introducing my dear friend Lori E, author of the blog Family Trees May Contain Nuts as chef of the day.

Lori E is a brilliant genealogy researcher, computer teacher, tole painter, gardener, Santa collector, food & wine enthusiast and witty blogger. Lori and I began posting around the same time, it's been fun to follow each other's creative baby steps in blogging.

She will be sharing a surprise recipe today. I'm kind of excited because I don't know what she'll be making. All I know is that it already smells wonderful...

Here you go Lori—the kitchen is yours.

Tangy Sweet Salmon

I am so pleased to share a meal with my friend Lola and all of her friends too. I am a Canadian and I live on the West Coast of the country in Beautiful British Columbia.

Having the ocean so near you can be sure that one of the main ingredients in many restaurant and home cooked meals is seafood. British Columbia is known for its delicious bounty from the sea and salmon in particular.

We have a wonderful fish market nearby that has their own boats. This assures us of the freshest seafood possible. Bruce’s Market is the place to go. I have written about them before and always buy my seafood there.

This recipe really isn't much of a recipe at all. It is so simple and so good you will have people who normally don’t care for salmon asking for seconds.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit, about 200° Celsius. Nice and hot for fish.

Let's start with a lovely filleted piece of salmon. I prefer Sockeye salmon for its bright color and superior taste.
Place it on a piece of foil. This will be messy in the end so you will be happy you did.

Use a good quality mayonnaise and spread it over the whole length of the salmon, about 1/8 of an inch thick.

Sprinkle this with some pepper.

On top of this you will pack some brown sugar again about 1/8 to ¼ inch thick. Press it into the mayonnaise layer firmly. Now you will be happy you placed this on the foil.

Lift it with the foil and place it on a baking sheet. Pop this into your hot oven cooking 10 minutes per inch or until fish flakes easily in the thickest part.

The fish will be topped with a delicious sauce both tangy and sweet that will compliment the lovely salmon flavour.


I would offer a crisp, cold Pinot Grigio with this. I chose a wine from a British Columbia winery, Ganton & Larsen Prospect Winery in the Okanagan Valley. Their Pinot Grigio is called Ogopogo's Lair in reference to the mysterious Ogopogo sea creature said to live in the lake and the cave in which he resides when not prowling the waters.

Anyone up for a little swim before dinner?

Grazie, Lori E!

Tortino di lamponi - No bake raspberry tart recipe

When I really have no energy left for cooking after unpacking and recovering from the labors of vacation, I usually resort to easy and quick recipes to cheat my way onto the dinner table, and bring happy faces all around.

The heat in Rome can reach Turkish hammam-style. Scorching 38° C with 99% humidity level, raises heat perception to an equivalent of 105.8° F - not pretty when it's 11:00 pm.

On one of those similar evenings, as I stood there in the dark, wearing a birthday suit in the kitchen with both the freezer and fridge doors open, my eyes landed on the 2 cups of fresh raspberries bought the day before at the farmer's market. This brought to mind a steadfast summer classic, the Tortino di Lamponi. Here is a dessert recipe for all you sweltering friends who have no desire whatsoever to light an oven and bake. It takes 20 minutes to prep, 1 hour to chill and 5 minutes to finish off. And then it ends up looking like this, before disappearing quickly.

Image by Culinary Concoctions by Peabody

Tortino di lamponi, no-bake Raspberry Tart
200 g (1 cup) digestive biscuits (or graham crackers)
100 g (1/2 cup) butter, melted
200 g (1 cup) mascarpone cheese
3 tbsp whipping cream
3 drops natural vanilla extract
Confectioner's sugar to taste
400 g (2 cups, 14 oz) fresh raspberries
2 fresh mint leaves, coarsely chopped (optional)
50 g (1/4 cup) raspberry glaze (which is simply melted raspberry jam)

Blitz the biscuits in the food processor until they form coarse crumbs. If you prefer you can put them in a sealed ziploc bag and bash the hell out of them with a rolling pin. Tip into a mixing bowl, add the melted butter and a tablespoon of water, and work in with your fingertips until clumpy.

Start by spooning about half the mixture in the center of a spring-form pan or loose bottom tart tin. Using the back of a large metal spoon and your fingers, press down firmly and evenly. Gradually add more mixture as needed to line the base and sides of the pan. Any leftover mixture can be frozen and crumbled over gelato).

Refrigerate the lined pan for at least 1 hour, or overnight if convenient.

Whisk together the mascarpone, cream and vanilla, sweeten to your liking with the powdered sugar, and refrigerate until needed. Shortly before serving your meal, spread the mascarpone cream over the chilled tart and return to the refrigerator.

Just before serving, lift the tart carefully out of the pan, and place on a serving dish. Heap the raspberries on top, sprinkle with chopped mint leaves and either dust with more icing sugar if you like, or use a pastry brush (or heavy-duty paper towels) to coat the fruit with the raspberry glaze.

Do you have a decent bottle of chilled rosé? Or perhaps some bubbles? Uncork, and commence drooling.