From the heart

Artichokes were for stuffing.

My grandfather would hammer the kitchen table with the artichokes to spread the leaves, making room for garlicky breadcrumbs. The loud noise would initially be cause for alarm. Alarm would immediately turn to anticipation upon realization of what was cooking. He would set the artichokes to simmer in a large pot with new potatoes wedged among them to keep them standing upright.

Holiday meals always included 'stuffed caccociuli.' The outer leaves acting as means to shovel the stuffing to eager mouths.

The ‘choke’ and the 'heart' were culinary mysteries to me. Reaching those inner most parts you had exhausted the supply of breadcrumbs. I would wince and hand it over to my dad at that point. My sister handing hers to my mom. They were quick to savor these offerings, never insisting that we try it. What a racket they had going.

In later years, learning to appreciate the delicacy of the artichoke heart, I recall those metaphorical offerings of my heart to my dad.

Last summer there was an abundance of the tastiest artichokes. They had been kissed by a frost, browning their outer leaves. Most people passed them by. Oh they were so good!
I never buy those globe artichokes. It's those dangerously spiky types that yield the best meat and flavor in my experience. Cutting those beauties in half, with all their purplish overtones, reveals one of the most sensual visuals in the veggie kingdom.

I have a knack for taking the traditional bits of my heritage and putting a more contemporary spin on them... adjusting them to my hectic single mom lifestyle. I can't bear to entirely let them go... so I adapt. The following artichoke recipe is one I adapted from New Recipes from Moosewood Restaurant.

Ingredients:
3 Artichokes, stems cut, barbs clipped, sliced in half lengthwise
1 Quart water
2 Teaspoons salt
2-3 Tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 Tablespoon olive oil
2 Bay leaves
3 whole garlic cloves
6 whole peppercorns
1 Teaspoon fennel seeds

Method:
Place the artichoke halves and all the remaining ingredients in a stainless steel or enamel pan and bring the liquid to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer until tender and outer leaf easily pulls away.
Drain the artichokes and discard cooking liquid.
Remove feathery choke.
Enjoy.

Sweet and Light

My father seemed to always be sipping from a bowl of coffee. When he was home, which was when he wasn't working or bowling one night a week, the rich aroma of coffee brewing would permeate the house. The glass percolator was never stored away in the cupboards. It was either in the dish rack drying or on the stovetop in use.

After a day of work he would stretch his aching back out on the living room floor with his feet up on the ottoman. If I happened by he would shoot me a pleading look with a wink and say, "Make your old man a cup of coffee." He drank from one of those old fashioned handleless bowls, ribbed on the side. A hold over from a time past. The same kind of chipped bowl from which my grandparents would have eaten their breakfast of warm milk and yesterday's bread. He liked it sweet and light. Two heaping teaspoons of sugar and plenty of milk. I would inevitably over fill the cup. To avoid spilling coffee enroute to the living room I would sip and sip again.

I vividly remember his first visit to my home when I had moved out. How pleased he was when I presented him with a bowl of coffee. He succumbed to lung cancer at an early age. Whenever he appears in my dreams we always sit and chat and share a cup of coffee.

To this day I drink my coffee sweet and light from a bowl size cup. When traveling, one of the first purchases I make is a beautiful locally made cup for my morning coffee.

I have to admit to being kinda fussy about my first and only cup of joe every day. I like it just the way I like it. Organic, locally roasted Ethiopian & Sumatran Full City Roast. http://www.catskillmtcoffee.com/home.htm

I warm the milk in my stovetop frother. My favorite after years of experimentation is the Frabosk "Faenza" Milk Frother. A porcelain cup that sits on the stovetop. (No microwave in my kitchen. All gadgets are mechanical) My morning ritual is to get the coffee brewing. Sugar in the cup. Followed by a generous amount of warm, frothed milk. Strong coffee poured through the cloud of white leaving just a dot of darkness visible.

Buon giorno!

The Water Boils

My mom, now in her 80's, is one of those legendary Sicilian cooks.

Family and friends still salivate at the mere thought of a dinner invite. The daughter of Sicilian immigrants, her repertoire was never vast, but reliably changed with the seasons. Her style was to always use time tested recipes requiring the freshest ingredients and an intuitive sensibility. At her side I learned to love preparing and sharing meals.

Her 'hook' was trusting me with testing the pasta. At first she would ladle two pieces of pasta from the boiling pot and offer one for me to taste, "Is it done?" Soon enough she trusted me to be the official taster. I felt pretty special as a kid to be able to declare, "the pasta is done"... or "two minutes more." An honor I delighted in passing on to my own children.

I don't believe she ever owned a cookbook. A working mom, she planned her meals for the week well in advance. She rarely surprised us by straying from her Sicilian influences.

A working mom myself I'm more the planning-dinner-on-the-drive-home-from-work type. The intuitive skills I learned at my mother's side serve me well.
This is my favorite simple pasta sauce for any evening when I arrive home famished AND exhausted. This literally takes minutes to prepare and is so very satisfying.


Simple /Quick Pasta Sauce
1 large can Italian plum tomatoes, coarsely chop the tomatoes and reserve the juice.
2 cloves garlic, chopped
Extra virgin olive oil
Fresh basil, chopped
Splash of red wine
Coarse salt to taste
Fresh ground pepper to taste
Optional: coarsely chopped oil cured olives

Heat oil. I still prefer my cast iron skillet to any other pan for making this sauce.
Add chopped garlic. Lightly brown.
If you haven't already put your apron on... this is a good place to stop for minute to do that. The tomatoes WILL spatter in the oil. Most of my T-shirts are evidence to that.
Lower the heat and add the chopped tomatoes followed by the juice in the can. Add salt and pepper, a splash of wine. Cook over low flame for about 10 minutes. Add chopped basil and olives.

I keep a supply of good quality ravioli in the freezer for quick meals like this. But pasta will do just fine.

Sip some wine. Make a salad while the water boils.
I’m always grateful I didn’t call out for pizza again.