Archive for September, 2010

Breaking Bread in L’Aquila

Posted September 29, 2010 By Adri



Breaking Bread in L'Aquila



Before dawn on the morning of April 6, 2009 the town of L’Aquila in Italy’s Abruzzo region was struck by a violent 6.3 magnitude earthquake, terremoto in Italian. Townspeople awoke in terror as the walls of their homes, businesses, government buildings and churches collapsed around them. The air was cold, but the people of L’Aquila ran outside to safety in whatever they had on to escape falling debris. When the sun shone on the town, the devastation was virtually complete. Rubble was everywhere. The dead were lined up in rows, and rescuers from the Abruzzo Civil Authority and Ministry of the Interior, along with the town’s inhabitants, worked feverishly to save those trapped and to remove the dead from the rubble. 308 people died that day. As of June 2010 Italian government statistics tell us that 48,810 people who lived in L’Aquila and surrounding villages are as yet unable to return home. The reconstruction effort continues.


Maria Filice, author and food stylist has written Breaking Bread in L’Aquila, a collection of 49 recipes from the Abruzzo region. Ms. Filice, whose family hails from the region of Calabria has a deep and abiding love for the Abruzzo region and L’Aquila in particular; her late husband Paul Piccone was born in that beautiful city, and the two traveled often to the region.


Ms. Filice has produced a wonderful volume. Its recipes are divided into days of the week with a complete menu presented for each day. Mix and match as you will. I certainly do. The author has generously included sections on how best to use her book, her entertaining philosophy and a primer on Abruzzese wines along with pantry essentials and a most welcome measurement conversion chart. The photography and food styling are ravishing, and the reader is given a warm and enticing introduction to this majestic region, land of shepherds and the sea. My grandfather, Gaetano Crocetti was born in Abruzzo in 1894, so this book holds pride of place on my shelf.


The net proceeds from the sale of this book will be donated to the L’Aquila earthquake restoration efforts. With Christmas around the corner I cannot think of a better gift for the cook or Italophile in your life. It would be a gift for two, whomsoever receives the book and the people of L’Aquila.


I am pleased to share with you, reprinted here courtesy of Telos Press, Paul Piccone’s recipe for polpettine, little meatballs. I have also included Maria’s charming introduction. She serves these with her Tomato Sauce and an Abruzzese specialty, pasta alla chitarra. The polpettine are delectable and simple to make. Enjoy, and please support L’Aquila earthquake relief by purchasing a copy of Maria’s book.


Click here to purchase the book at Food & Fate

Check out Maria’s blog here.

Take a look at the Breaking Bread in L’Aquila Facebook page here.

Follow Maria on Twitter @FoodandFate


Pasta alla Chitarra con Polpettine di Paolo

(Pasta alla Chitarra with Paul’s Meatballs)


Paul’s meatballs were famous-not only for their flavor, but also for their size: he liked them small! Though, he was a fabulous cook, once he let me in the kitchen (and taught me how to make his favorites), he didn’t come back in. As queen of the kitchen, I began making his favorites, like this one. We would sometimes serve these meatballs on top of pasta alla chitarra, Abruzzo’s famous pasta. This is made with a pasta guitar (it looks like a harp) to produce squarish-shaped spaghetti. You can also use spaghetti or your favorite pasta. Growing up, my mother would serve it with our favorite rigatoni or penne pasta.


serves 6

3 cups of tomato sauce (see page 44 in the book)

1 pound ground pork

1 pound ground beef

2 eggs

1 ½ cup freshly grated Parmigiano cheese

1 tablespoon fresh Italian flat leaf parsley, chopped

1 cup bread crumbs (unseasoned)

1 clove garlic, minced

½ teaspoon fresh ground black pepper

2 teaspoons salt

1 pound of pasta alla chitarra (fresh)

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil


In a large bowl, combine the pork, beef, eggs, bread crumbs and 1 cup of the cheese. Add the parsley, garlic, salt and pepper and combine well. Using your hands, form quarter-sized meatballs and place them on a tray. (If the mixture is too stick, rinse your hands under cold water and leave them slightly damp.)


Heat the oil in a frying pan over medium heat. Fry the meatballs in batches, turning them frequently, until they form a nice brown crispy layer on the outside and are cooked through (approximately 10 to 12 minutes). Drain them on paper towels.


Heat the tomato sauce in a medium-sized pot over medium heat. Add the meatballs and cook on low heat for 30 minutes.


Using a large pot, cook the pasta according to the package instructions until it is al dente. Drain the pasta and return it to the pot. Add the sauce with meatballs and toss well. Top with remaining Parmigiano and serve.


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Espresso Mocha Float

Posted September 25, 2010 By Adri



Espresso Mocha Float © AdriBarrCrocetti.com



Last week I thought Fall was here. It was cold. I needed a jacket in the mornings. Today it is over 100 degrees. Oh my. And Bart is buried in a mountain of paperwork. He needed a break and some refreshment. So here‘s what I came up with – an Espresso Mocha Float. It hit the spot. A combination of chocolate syrup, chilled espresso, Kahlua, chocolate gelato and S. Pellegrino water topped with whipped cream, it had him smiling again.


I have always loved floats and sodas. When I was growing up in Southern California there was a chain of ice cream parlors called Wil Wright’s. They had marble floors, petite wire chairs and small tables, rich, creamy ice cream and absolutely dreamy fountain specialties. One thing I always loved about having a soda at Wil Wright’s was that your soda was accompanied by a small glass carafe of extra soda water. Elegant, I remember thinking. So I decide to put some extra S. Pellegrino water and chocolate syrup along with the float. Nice. Try this one next time you need an afternoon treat. But try it soon. Summer’s almost gone.


Espresso Mocha Float


serves 2


1/4 cup chocolate syrup

1/4 cup Kahlua

2/3 cup chilled espresso

chocolate gelato

S. Pellegrino water


1 cup heavy cream

1 teaspoon sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla



Whip cream until it begins to thicken. Add the sugar and vanilla. Whip to very soft peaks. Set aside.


Divide the chocolate syrup, Kahlua and chilled espresso between each of two glasses. Stir to combine. Drop 2 scoops of chocolate gelato in each glass. Pour S. Pellegrino water over ice cream to fill each glass. Top with softly whipped cream. Serve immediately.

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Jeff's handwritten transcription of Angelo Barra Crocetti's Ravioli recipe. All Rights Reserved © AdriBarrCrocetti.com



That is the Crocetti Family Ravioli recipe in its entirety as my grandmother, Angela Barra Crocetti, (known as Mom) dictated it to my mother, Josephine. My mother, known to all who loved her as Jeff, transcribed the recipe in the endsheet of her 1962 edition of the American classic, Joy of Cooking. There are no other directions. This recipe assumes a level of proficiency that any good Italian girl would have achieved by the age of fourteen. One of my fondest memories of Mom was sitting at the kitchen table in her home on Inglewood Boulevard in Los Angeles with the sunlight streaming in over my left shoulder. I remember it as though it were yesterday. Mom placed her spianatoia (wooden pastry board) on her kitchen table. She scooped a mountain of flour onto her board, dug a well in the center and into that well she cracked the eggs. In went the salt. Now it was time for the milk. Yes, the milk. I know. Well, back then I didn’t. Most pasta recipes, if they call for any liquid other than eggs will call for olive oil or water. But some Italian cooks often use milk for their filled pastas. And she measured that milk in the most charming fashion, in the half shell of a cracked egg. No need for a measuring cup. This was Italian home cooking from the ground up. She made but one concession to the modern age, but more on that later. She took her fork and began to beat the eggs, salt and milk in her well. As she agitated the ingredients she brought in the flour, bit by bit, incorporating it until she had a shaggy mass. Down went the fork, up went her sleeves, and she began to knead the big mass of dough. After about ten minutes she was satisfied with her supple dough. I was amazed. She covered it with a kitchen towel and we went into her sewing room.


After about half an hour we returned to the kitchen to form the ravioli. Mom cut the dough not with a fancy rolling cutter, but with a kitchen knife. She covered what she was not going to use right away, picked up her extra long matterello (rolling pin) and began to work her brand of wizardry on the dough. Back and forth she moved her matterello, coaxing the dough to an ever greater size and greater degree of thinness. To my child’s eye it looked like magic. She rolled over the dough and out to the edge farthest from her, then rolled that far edge of dough over her matterello pulling it back to her, rolling and gathering the dough around it as she worked, sliding her floured hands across the dough-covered tool, stretching it with her hands, then rolling it out to the far edge again. She gave the dough a quarter turn and repeated the process. Over and over. The dough she rolled was gorgeous, so thin I could see the shadow of her hand behind it as she lifted and turned it. Alchemy. And the sound of the dough on the board, sort of a “shh-shh.” Her pasta dough was light, yet strong enough to form into ravioli that kept its integrity when boiled. And that is where I came in. I was responsible for crimping the edges of the chicken and cheese packets she assembled. I used a fork to crimp the edges all the way around, the perfect job for a little girl, the initiation to the women’s kitchen. I remember being so proud when we were finished. It made eating the treasures all the more enjoyable. Remembering those days in her kitchen and looking at the recipe now I am astonished by the economy of tools, not to mention verbiage. No fancy rolling cutter, no Atlas machine, no KitchenAid pasta roller, no measuring cups. In fact, I doubt if she used a teaspoon to measure the salt.


When I was in my twenties I became an altogether obsessive cook, I wanted detail. I needed to know absolutely everything. Ah, if only I had been born into the era of recipes accompanied by step-by step photography. But no, I was taught by cooks who said things like “When it is the right consistency, pour the batter into a pan. Bake in a fast oven until done.” WHAT!! Good grief! What was I supposed to do? Obsessive young woman that I was I wanted particulars. For many years I was utterly constrained by obsessiveness. Ask my friends. They’ll tell you. If a recipe called for 1 1/4 teaspoons of vanilla extract and I had only 1 teaspoon, I did not make the dish. Period. Time has passed, and I now embrace improvisation. I enjoy being one of those cooks who can play in the kitchen and make do with what she has. My Italian forebears made do because they had to. Making do with what one has in one’s pantry is the hallmark of la cucina casareccia (home cooking), la cucina povera (the cooking of the poor.) I am writing this post to tell all of you not to wait until you are my age to feel free in the kitchen. Try new things. Look at the recipes you see here and elsewhere and make them your own. Build on your fundamentals toward a cuisine all your own. And take notes! Let me know what you have tried. I would love to hear from you.


Coming up… Part Two – Making the Ravioli



Angela Barra Crocetti's ravioli All Rights Reserved © AdriBarrCrocetti.com

Angela Barra Crocetti's ravioli as made by Adri Barr Crocetti

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Crostoli

Posted September 19, 2010 By Adri



A plate of finished crostoli All Rights Reserved © AdriBarrCrocetti.com



Dino Martin Crocetti and William Crocetti. All Rights Reserved © AdriBarrCrocetti.com

Dino and William - The Crocetti Brothers

“Mamma, Che buona!” My father William Anthony Crocetti, born Guglielmo, did not speak English until he went to grade school. So I have no doubt that was what he exclaimed every time he ate the crostoli his mother made in her kitchen at 319 South Sixth Street in their south end neighborhood of Steubenville, Ohio. I wasn’t there, but those were his words. Senza dubito. And I bet Dino echoed his big brother.






Italians have been making these treats for hundreds of years. A recipe even appears in Pellegrino Artusi’s seminal cookbook, L’Arte di Mangiar Bene (The Art of Eating Well), first published in 1891. Although these delightful pastry knots are the prototypical Carnevale indulgence, they are also served at Christmas, New Year’s and Easter. This type of dolci is called nastri delle suore (nun’s ribbons), but that would never do for Italy, a country whose inhabitants identify themselves by regional ties first and as Italians second. Twenty regions – more than twenty names. These treats are called galani or frittelle alla Venezia in Venice and the Veneto, crostoli in Friuli, cenci (rags and tatters) or donzelli (young ladies) in Tuscany, frappe in Umbria, sfrappole or lattughe (lettuces) in Emilia-Romagna, chiacchiere (gossips) in Lombardy, chiacchiere di suore (nun’s gossips) in Parma, bugie (lies) in Piemonte and gigi in Sicily. Da vero. Call them what you will, they are fried dough, and I love fried dough. Like my father, I grew up eating these deep fried delights.

Where I grew up. All Rights Reserved ©Toni Crocetti

...

Spring-o-lators

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We called my grandmother Mom, and no typical nonna was she. When she arrived at our home I could always tell if she had a treat for us; instead of exiting her car and making her way directly up our driveway she went first to her passenger door, opened it and removed a long flat box. Then up our driveway she walked, box in hand, the clack-clack-clack of her Spring-o-lator shoes announcing her approach. We never knew what she had in that box, but we always knew it would be good. We four kids, my brothers Guy and Marc and my sister Toni and I, loved the cookies and we gobbled them up. My mother could always tell who had done most of the gobbling – the powdered sugar on the guilty party’s hands, face and chest was a dead giveaway. In fact that is how these cookies got their Piemontese name, bugie – liar’s cookies – as in “No Mamma. It wasn’t me, no mamma. I don’t know who ate the cookies…” Another of this cookie’s colorful names is chiacchiere or gossips. Some say the name came from the ladies of Lombard and the nuns of Parma who ate them as they gossiped. Still another source tells us the name originated with the sound the knots make when dropped in the cooking oil – “Pssst !” – just like the town gossip as she summons her listeners. Great stories all, which ever is true.


This cookie has a variation for every nonna. Some call for grappa, others get their alcohol kick from Gran Marnier, vin santo, white wine or rum while a few eschew spirits altogether. In Tuscany they are often made with olive oil in place of butter, and some regions use lard or shortening. Some use orange in place of lemon or no citrus at all. For the finishing touch, some cooks use confectioner’s sugar while others choose cinnamon sugar. As to the shape, some are plain ribbons, some are formed into pretzel-like shapes while others are twisted and pinched in the middle. You will also find flat squares or rectangles, some with one or two slits along the middle. This is the tradition of Italy’s beloved nonne at work, the tradition of variation on a theme that makes this cuisine so inviting, so forgiving, and so much fun.


Flour in Italy is classified by how finely it is milled, either 1, 0 or 00. Doppio zero is the most finely milled and feels like talcum powder. Do not confuse how finely ground the flour is with its protein content. Any strength flour can be ground into doppio zero. Just as we have pastry flour, all-purpose flour and bread flour with their varying protein contents, so do the Italians. They just have the added luxury of varying degrees of milling. To see the full range of flours available to the Italian cook go to the Molino Caputo website. I use a doppio zero flour that is comparable in protein content to our American all-purpose flour. Doppio zero flour is available at Italian markets and Amazon. com. If you can not find it, regular all-purpose flour will do nicely. Use the same amount the recipe calls for.


Mom made her dough by hand in the traditional manner – mounding her flour on a wooden board, making a “well” in the center, filling it with the ingredients and incorporating them with a fork. In a concession to the age of the mechanized kitchen I use my KitchenAid.


This dough is a dream to work with. Do not be intimidated by the idea of rolling it very thinly. You will be able to do so with great ease. Honest. On the subject of frying oil – Mom used solid Crisco, and there is no reason to change that. But if you have something else on hand, peanut oil, vegetable oil, feel free to make use of what is in your pantry. Mom drained the cookies on brown grocery bags. Some cooks use paper towels. I have found that placing the fried cookies directly on a cooling rack suspended over a sheet pan works very well.


A note about these cookies: they fry up very quickly, so be sure to have everything you need close at the ready. Banish the kids and pets from the kitchen. You will be working with a large volume of very hot oil.


And finally, do not overcook the crostoli. If you do you will not taste the grappa!

As the Italians say “Divertiti!” Have fun!


Ingredients for crostoli

Here is what you need. Don't be daunted. Just follow step by step. They will come out perfectly!



Weighing flour

Weigh your flour for the most accurate measurement.



Flour in mixer bowl

Put flour in mixer bowl.



Add the sugar

Add sugar.



Add salt

Add salt.



Add lemon zest

Add lemon zest. I use a microplaner grater. It works beautifully.


Dry ingredients

Your dry ingredients are ready to go.



Turn on the mixer

Turn on the mixer briefly to combine.



Add butter

Add butter.



Lightly beat egg

Lightly beat egg.



Add egg

Add egg and combine.



Add vanilla

Add vanilla.



Add grappa

Add grappa and combine.



Add milk

Add milk and combine until dough comes together.



Check out dough

Stop mixer. Pinch off a piece of dough. It should be slightly moist, not sticky, a cohesive mass.



Remove dough

Remove dough from mixer.



Knead a few times

Knead a few times.



Shape dough

Shape into a disk and wrap in plastic.



Roll the dough

You are now ready to roll the dough.



Cut dough in half

Cut dough in half and keep the half you are not using covered.



Flour your board

Flour your board and get to it with your rolling pin.



Lift and turn your dough

Lift and turn your dough to prevent sticking.



Roll dough out to 1/16th inch

Roll dough out to 1/16th inch. Yes, you can!



Trim edges of dough

Trim edges of dough and measure to cut ribbons 6 inches long and 1 inch wide.



Use a rotella (ravioli cutter)

Use a rotella (ravioli cutter) to cut ribbons.




Forming knots

-1-

Forming knots

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Forming knots

-3-

Forming knots

-4-











Forming knots

-5-

Forming knots

Finished!











Form knots and place on a floured tea towel.




Heat oil to 350

Heat oil to 350 degrees in a heavy deep-sided pan.



Drop knots in oil and fry

Drop knots in oil and fry a few at a time.



Fry until golden

Fry until golden. They will puff up enticingly.



Remove to a rack to drain

Remove to a rack to drain.



Ready to sugar

To keep things neat, place your tray and rack on a large piece of parchment. Have ready a bowl of confectioner's sugar and a small strainer.



Dust with powdered sugar

While still warm dust with powdered sugar.



Mom would be proud

Lovely. Mom would be proud. Maybe she'd even say, "Brava, piccina!"



Crostoli


makes about 3 ½ dozen


200 grams 00 flour (This should measure 1 ½ cups when lightly spooned into measuring cups, then leveled with a flat edge.)

1 tablespoon granulated sugar

zest of 1 lemon

generous pinch salt

1 large egg, lightly beaten

1 tablespoon unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 tablespoon grappa

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

3 to 4 tablespoons whole milk

shortening or oil for frying

confectioner’s sugar


In a mixer bowl fitted with paddle attachment, combine the flour, sugar, lemon zest and salt. With mixer running add egg, butter, grappa and vanilla. Gradually add 3 ½ tablespoons of milk to form a soft malleable dough. Remove dough from bowl, pat into a disk. Wrap in plastic, and set aside to rest for 1 hour.

Line a sheet pan or tray with a tea towel. Lightly dust the towel with flour. Set aside. Divide dough in 2 pieces, keeping the one you are not using wrapped in plastic or covered with a towel. On a lightly floured board, roll out dough as thinly as you can, about 1/16-inch thickness; dough should be almost translucent. Using a ravioli cutter cut dough to form ribbons 6 inches long and 1 inch wide. Tie a knot in the center of each ribbon, and place on the towel-lined pan in a single layer. Keep the knots covered as you work.

Meanwhile heat a generous amount of oil to 350 degrees in a heavy deep-sided pan. A candy thermometer placed on the side of your pan assures correct cooking temperature. Have ready a rack placed over a sheet pan. Fry the knots, a few at a time, until they color, about 20 to 30 seconds. Remove with a slotted spoon, spider or metal tongs, and place on rack to drain. Sprinkle liberally with confectioner’s sugar. Crostoli are best eaten the day they are made.



Solo Crostoli All Rights Reserved © AdriBarrCrocetti.com


Note: You can click on any picture to see a slide show!

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The LA County Fair

Posted September 4, 2010 By Adri



LA County Fair

Home Arts Building c. 1980



“Calling all chefs, bakers, and food lovers… join your fellow culinary artists in one of the many contests and competitions offered this year at the L.A. County Fair!” That’s what it says on the L.A. County Fair website Culinary Styles Contests and Competitions page. I read the article about the Fair in Thursday’s Los Angeles Times and the memories came flooding back. Years ago I was an avid L.A. County Fair Home Arts competitor with lots of laughs, photographs and Winner’s Ribbons of all stripe to show for it. I entered jams, jellies, preserves, candy, breads, specialty bread… you name it. I even entered a Cheesecake Contest. And who could forget the Baker’s Chocolate Brownie Contest? It was a ton of fun. Back in the day the food contests were held under the auspices of the Home Arts Section. In early Spring all contestants registered by mail with the Home Arts Division to enter the contests of their choosing, and the reward far outweighed the minimal entry fee. While some contests are judged live at the Fair, most are judged prior to the Opening Day. Contestants deliver their entries to the Pomona Fairplex several weeks prior to the opening of the Fair for closed judging. Let me tell you, it is hard to leave those babies and wonder what folks will think of them. I always wanted to tell the ladies something about them. I always wondered on the drive home what would become of my creations. Opening Day arrived, and it was time to go.


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Tomato Jam

Posted September 1, 2010 By Adri


Tomato Jam

Crostini with Ricotta and Tomato Jam


Well, I walked out into my garden yesterday morning and I started picking Juliet tomatoes. And I picked. And I picked. By the time I finished I was astounded at the morning’s yield from one plant. And in just a couple of minutes. Astounded, I say. There were four and one-half pounds! First off I reflected on how pleased I was with the yield from my one very productive Juliet plant. Then I got practical. I thought about what I was going to do with them. Ovoid, red, firm and juicy, they are one of my favorite tomatoes. I could eat them out of hand. I could make my favorite eggs for breakfast, Cheesy Eggs, that is. See my older post on the subject. I could share them with neighbors. Or I could do what any cook does in August when faced with abbondanza such as this. Make jam. Yes, indeed. Tomato jam. If you have never had it, stay with me. Tomato jam is sweet, the very essence of tomato. Over the years I have seen many recipes. Some call for nothing more than tomatoes and sugar. Others call for the addition of citrus juice and or zest, red wine vinegar, cinnamon, cumin, chiles de arbol, jalapenos, cloves, ginger, bay leaves, and that is just for starters. Remembering a post about Sicilian Tomato Jam from Judy of Divina Cucina and another from Deborah of Italian Food Forever, I got to work. One thing I love about cooking is looking at another’s work and building upon it. So here with sincere thanks to both Judy and Deborah is my version of Tomato Jam.

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