Paste di Mandorla for zio Filippo

I probably shouldn't call these paste di mandorle because technically they aren't.

But let me start from the beginning.

On Wednesday zio Filippo (F's uncle) passed away. It was in the air, I woke up feeling a little melanchonic. I just didn't have it in me to write anything funny or cutesy. But you know that already if you read my last post. Then, in the evening, we got the sad news from Sicily.

Zio Filippo was no longer a young man and in the past year the C word had entered his life. Despite this, his death took us by surprise. It is not that long ago that I remember him working his piece of land, telling us about the many fruits his plants were bearing, the plants he tended to with great love and care. He loved food and cooking and often sent us things he had picked, prepared with his own hands or delicacies he had discovered in the surrounding area. He loved to read, he loved theater and music. I have fond memories of him singing a beautiful aria one evening shortly after our wedding. That night food was plenty, wine was flowing in copious amounts and by the end of the evening both my relatives and F's had taken turns singing and reciting poems and not an eye was dry. It was beautiful, a memory I will always cherish.

But the thing zio Filippo loved above all, after his family of course, was his island, so ruggedly beautiful, so rich in history and art, so misunderstood and plagued by the corruption of few.

My in-laws were already on their way to Sicily when the news came and attended the funeral yesterday for all of us. F lit a candle in church and I left the office a little early to make these sweets for him. While his grandson, the one named after him and who is following in his footsteps pursuing a military career, was reading a letter about him to a crowd in Trapani and F was lighting the wick, I was mixing the ingredients, the essence of Sicily. Whilst grinding the almonds I started thinking of the beauty of the blooming trees, while I was zesting the lemon I thought of the island's clear waters, the crisp blue sky, the winds from Africa. I thought of zio Filippo, his bushy eyebrows, his family, the many children and grandchildren he left behind. I thought that he had done good, that he had had a full rich life, no regrets. I thought of his wife, zia Lina, of the first time I saw her making paste di mandorle in my mother in law's kitchen and of how hard it must be for her. They were married for more than half a century.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I realized too late that I had skipped an important step. I forgot to beat the egg whites. I just mixed them in! I baked the cookies anyway, determined to make these in Filippo's memory and honor. I'm glad I did, because they turned out delicious anyway. They were chewy and full of flavor. Perhaps they didn't rise as much and they were chewy and soft instead of being slighty cakeu and moist, but every bite was still a bite of Sicily.

Per te, zio Filippo.


I got the recipe from Manu's Menu.
This is a vegetarian recipe, it uses up those left over egg whites in your freezer, it has just four ingredients and it is gluten free. What are you waiting for?

Teriyaki glazed salmon

Oh. My. Goodness.

This is one of the best things I have cooked, no, had lately.  And it took me under 10 minutes to make (excluding the salmon's cooking time) without buying any new ingredients. Who knew teriyaki was so easy?

Thanks to Hunger and Sauce, I discovered my new favorite way to make fish, meat or whatever else I can smother in this delectable sauce. It is perfect for a week night meal (like ours) but just as good to impress guests.

Hunger and Sauce also suggested using the left over sauce, diluted with some water, to dress up some vegetables, rice or noodles. Too bad F practically licked off every last drop from the baking dish there were no leftovers to speak of...but hey, maybe next time?

Today I am giving it another try: I took the day off from work so ciao, off to have me some girly fun! Have a great week end, possibly in the company of this dish. You won't regret it.

Ingredients

a large salmon fillet (or other fatty fish)

a pinch of sesame seeds, toasted

Sauce:

4 tbsp soy sauce

1 tbsp Mirin

a thumb-sized knob of fresh grated ginger

4 tbsp brown sugar

pepper

Preheat your oven to 180°C. Combine all the sauce ingredients in a small sauce pan (I was out of fresh ginger so I used dry ginger instead) and start mixing over a medium flame until the sauce reduces to a syrupy consistency. Brush over the fish and bake in the oven. We prefer to undercook our salmon so I did not leave it in long. Also, do not forget the sauce is hot when you brush it on and that that will start cooking the fish before you even put it in the oven. Before serving sprinkle over some previously toasted sesame seeds.

Pretty in pink & Saragli

This past weekend was a whirlwind of pink, glitter and sequins. Barbie meets Priscilla Queen of the Desert.

My daughter's BFF's birthday is in January and since the former was on the other side of the pond when she turned five, far from all her friends, BFF's mom and I teamed up to organize a joint birthday bash. For obvious reasons, like my daughter already having a little party in NY, I didn't want to get caught up in the craziness of party organizing and entertainers. We decided to keep it small, quiet and as simple as possible. We planned to do it at BFF's house, to invite just the few five year old girls of each class and to spice it up and make it a little girly, we called it a princess pizza party.  big deal for someone who asked the world to abstain from giving pink presents when she found out she was expecting a girl.

So anyway, going along with the totally casual feel of it all, I printed out some free printable invitations with a crown on it, handwrote the info (smiling at the thought of the hours usually dedicated to photoshopping the perfect invitation) and hand distributed them at kindergarden. BFF's mom had some peel off nail polish from the States, she ordered a pink cake, we ordered some pizza, I rented the pinkest, girliest Barbie movie I could lay my hands on (because we envisaged total mayhem with 12 girls and no specific organized activity), I bought some pink princess paper plates and napkins and we were set. Ready to roll.

Well, girl after girl after girl showed up and with them - totally unexpectedly - crown after crown after crown. Some had blonde wigs with platinum highlights attached, others had buttons on them that lit them up. There were wings and magic wands. There were party dresses and party shoes. There was a lot of twirling and checking each other out and looking into mirrors. There was squealing and sighing. When the nail polish came out it was total frenzy. First came hands, followed by shoes being scattered around and panty hose being torn off. My friend and I became the most sought-after manicure and pedicure stations in Milan and little brothers got involved and painted too. Even the tomboy of the group, who was a little horrified when she arrived, succumbed and had her toe nails painted. One of my daughter's presents was a Princess dress, a triumph of polyester and plastic, ruffles and frills. It never came off for the rest of the week end, and neither did the nail polish. Until last night. Ugh.

However, the party was a success, my little girl was happy and so was I.

So when I decided to bake I craved something that was a little more grown up, with NO pink or frills. And guess what? The kids loved it. So did we.

 

As you may have noticed by now, because I do not have time to flip through cook books at home, most of my recipes come from you these days. And what a lucky girl that makes me! Thanks to Magda at My Little Expat Kitchen, her lovely photo tutorial and detailed instructions, I managed to make my first really exotic dessert! I am no expert but they tasted pretty authentic to me.

  

Elia's honey cookies

Sometimes in life you need simple things. Things that just make you feel comfortable, at home. If the known, the predictable, the ordinary did not exist, the highs, the peaks wouldn't be quite as interesting, would they? This applies to emotions but it also applies to the more simple things in life, like food. After gorging on Everything Cookies on a great sugar high on vacation, I feel the need to nibble on something a bit plainer, if you know what I mean. 

I loved every chocolate chip, every morsel of pecan, every raisin and dried cranberry I had in New York. I pressed each and every last buttery crumb onto my index finger and brought them to my lips, savoring the final hint of salty and sweet on my tongue. But now I am satiated and I want to rediscover the taste of home, the familiarity of honey and butter, the same gestures repeated time and time again. The routine of a less eventful yet just as satisfying day.

I need the sweet simplicity of honey cookies.

These are beautifully soft, chewy yet crumbly cookies. The are great savored on their own, but sublime with a cup of tea or a big glass of milk. They are quick to assemble and even quicker to bake. You can pretty much make them any shape and they are big and fat and satisfying. We usually braid ours or make them ring shaped. Your children will have fun helping you invent new shapes. So what are you waiting for?

I call these morsels of goodness Elia's cookies because the colleague and friend N who passed on the recipe: a) is Elia's aunt; b) got the recipe from her mother. Still not clear? Ok, N's brother (Elia's father) is an apiculturist. He makes a wonderful, organic honey from bees he raises in the countryside surrounding Milan (if you live in Milan, you should try it. No chemicals used in the process, local...). His son is called Elia, thus "Il miele di Elia" (Elia's honey). N's mother bakes the cookies using this honey named after her grandson, and so do I. Thus, Elia's honey cookies.

Balsamic red onion marmalade

As the festivities approach, I am on the look out for new and fun touches to add to the Christmas feast. Most of you, I am sure, already have a traditional family Christmas menu that you have been making/eating for decades. Your grandmother's recipe for the most amazing stuffing ever, your sister-in-law's killer mash potatoes and your dad's special gravy. A menu you look forward to for a whole year.

My mother in law, for example makes a turkey that is to die for. It is stuffed with truffle and chestnuts and so much more. My DH dreams of it year round and as excited as he is to travel over to the Big Apple with me in a week, I am sure a teeny part of his heart will remain in the Alps, where his mamma will be stuffing her turkey on the 25th. I also think he has already asked her to freeze a few slices for him.

Another tradition in his family is handmade tortellini for Christmas Eve, a real delicacy to be eaten in a clear broth made with several varieties of meat and vegetables (so, to be precise, I should call them cappelletti).

My family, of proud Prussian origin on my mother's side, is more goose oriented. I will never forget the look on my future Italian step brothers' face in the late Seventies when my step father flew them to New York from Venice to "meet the family" and my mother walked out of the kitchen after hours of cooking and basting and set down a platter with a huge goose on it accompanied with red cabbage and apples and a bowl of hearty bread, onion, chestnut and liver stuffing. In my opinion, however, the best thing about a goose at Christmas is the schmaltz.  My mother collects the fat and drippings from the roasted goose and after frying a little onion into it, she lets it set (crispy bits of onion and skin included). The best way to eat this is smeared on toasted peasant bread with a sprinkle of salt and pepper.

So, my dear readers, who am I to interfere with tradition?

Yuletide and Nigella's butter cut-out biscuits

The Yuletide has hit our home in all of its German, American and Italian glory!

  

Over the week end out came the tree, decoration, lights, candles, the Advent calendar, the Tyrolean hand-carved wooden crib. Copious amounts of cookies were baked and decorated, Dean Martin and Bing Crosby's voices floated out of our speakers. Letters were written to Santa Claus and stuck in boots and left last night on our windowsill for Saint Nick to collect, leaving sweets in their place. The Twelve Days of Christmas was sung a cappella and youtube videos of NYCB Nutcracker were watched.

The Christmas season was always a big deal in my family growing up but one thing we never did was bake cookies. Decorating cookies with my kids was something I already imagined as a child and after buying conspicuous amounts of cookie decorations the last time we were in South Tyrol and a dozen Christmas cookie cutters at Villeroy and Boch last month I had no excuse.

Nigella's recipe (from How to Be a Domestic Goddess) is fool proof, all you need is time on your hands because there are various phases involved: preparing the dough, chilling it, rolling it out and cutting out the shapes, baking, cooling and decorating. However, if you decide you are not in a decorating mood, these are great plain too!