Zucchini carpaccio with feta cheese, mint and toasted pinoli nuts

 

In the the past weeks F has been playing soccer on Monday nights and coincidentally, on the same night they have started showing a cycle of old Dustin Hoffman movies. Last week it was Kramer vs. Kramer, yesterday it was Tootsie's turn. 

 

Considering I hadn't watched either movie in about 30 years, I wasn't surprised I had missed out on a lot of the humor and drama. When I first saw Kramer vs. Kramer I was a child approximately Billy's age with recently divorced parents and I was moving to another continent with my mom. It was all pretty matter-of-factual to me. Now, as the mother of a daughter that age, I watched it with renewed interest and much more involvement than the last time. As for Tootsie, I had natually completely missed out on the sexual subtext, which is surprising considering the whole comedy revolves around it. I also realized with a little gasp that Dustin, Meryl and Jessica were probably all younger than I am today when they starred in those movies. Finally, I smiled when I realized Michael's roommate in Tootsie is Bill Murray, who only became a noteworthy presence in my life after Ghostbusters. Or that Tootise marked Geena Davis' first movie appearance.

 

Generally speaking I am not usually one to watch old movies, it just isn't my thing. I am not that person with a huge collection of dvds that I see over and over again. But something about these two movies just sucked me in, something more than just purely enjoying good acting by a younger, softer version of the stars they are today. The truth is they bring me back to a different time of my life. A time that I can now see with much more awareness than I did as a kid. They portray the NY of my younger years, a time when I had still lived most of my life in the city instead of Europe. The years of the Russian Tea Room, the Twin Towers and of a seedy but truer version of Times Square.

 

Source: Wikipedia

 

I felt a twinge when I saw a NY bus drive by in a scene that was advertising the hit musical Evita. I remember every minute of those summer nights in the early Eighties when I played that record over and over again. I sang of a new Argentina, the chains of the masses untied, and had not a clue what it meant. I sat in a Broadway theater mesmerized while Magaldi admonished Eva of the perils of Buenos Aires. Those tunes were the soundtrack of several years of my early life and every note brings back a memory. My family still roll their eyes at the mere mention of the Argentine rose.

 

And what about mocassins? Did you have a pair? I had completely forgotten about my white ones until I watched Lange's slow-motion twirl last night.

Asparagus stalk gazpacho

Those of you who follow me on Instagram and Facebook already know where I was on Thursday night. F and I and 59,998 other people were hanging out rocking at the stadium with Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.

And what a night it was: when I got home at 2am my palms were sore and swollen from clapping, my throat felt raw and my voice had dropped an octave. 

On Friday, at my daughters' end-of-the-school-year party, I was not the only parent walking around with a dumb smile on my face and a hazy look in my eyes.  All I needed to hear where a few random words, snippets of a conversation (little girl, 4 hours) in passing for my usually shy self to turn back towards a large group of strangers and butt into their conversation.

"Where you there last night too?".

I was instantly welcomed into their circle, I was one of them. We were special, we had all experienced the magic. We were the chosen ones, who had sung and danced with The Boss during his second longest show ever, 3 hours and 45 minutes of non-stop energy, music, poetry at Stadio Meazza in Milan. We were the ones who had watched him jump up and down like a teen ager, horse around with his fans and band members, shed tears during the tribute to his great friend Clarence. We were there song after song, 33 of them I believe, just broken up by his epic "one-two-three-four". Bruce may be in his early sixties but he has the energy of the kids he pulled up on stage. When he wasn't singing he was playing one of many instruments or running the length of the stage. The man never stopped.

When you go to see Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, you know you are in for a real show, that you will not be disappointed. You know you will be getting 100% and that is why you leave feeling like you were part of something special, like that 100% was especially for you. And you will walk around like a lovestruck teenager humming his songs for the next week.

Aaaanyway...

Talking about 100%, in my last post I promised I would give you a recipe to use up every last part of that bushel of asapargus you bought the other day at the market. The season for asparagus is short and you don't want to miss out on any of their loveliness.

So here is another green recipe, and by green this time I also mean environmentally. I was watching a cooking show the other evening during which an Italian chef used all the less noble parts of produce, the ones everyone normally throws away, in her recipes and I was fascinated. I did not rememeber her exact ingredients so I mixed up what I did remember with bits and pieces of advice from the Internet and came up with this. It turned out to be more delicate in flavor than I expected, lacking that familiar punch of taste you get from its red cousin, but it was refreshing and light, a different and original take on my all time favorite gazpacho. I will also not pretend it was great fun to peel all the stalks, but it is worth the satisfaction of using them up. Using the plump, fatter asparagus will make this part quicker. We ate ours garnished with previously chopped up hard boiled eggs (I thought of that after taking the pictures, sorry!).

Green fusion couscous

I think the reason why I love my neighborhood is that it is culturally pretty diverse for Italian standards.

My daughter has been lucky enough to spend her first years with a tight-knit group of friends with parents from several continents, exposing her from the start to different religions and traditions. Just as an example, one of her oldest friends is half American, just like her. Our neighbors and good friends are from Argentina. Her favorite playmate is a girl from the Philippines and there are children from all over the world in both our children's classes.

This may be a given in many countries but it is still a novelty in Italy. This country only recently went from being a country of emigrants to one that welcomes large amounts of immigrants, making diversity a reasonably new concept here, especially in the more gentrified neighborhoods. Many children here are first generation Italians and some just moved recently and are still coming to terms with a new tradition and language.

Sometimes I hear things people say that make me cringe. I realize it is often more the result of not being accustomed or exposed to diversity than an actual feeling of superiority and more often than not the words are said totally unaware, without malice, but it makes me realize we still have a ways to go.

My children and I often talk about being different, because we/they are different. Their mother speaks to them in a foreign language, they do not take religion in school (how about teaching children about the religions of the world to help them understand them and be more tolerant than having an hour dedicated to the Catholic religion, that most children learn about in Sunday school anyway?), their grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins live all over the world and speak a variety of languages.

We have a book full of fun and interesting drawings about different people, different colors and different shapes. Tall people, short, people, big people, thin people. Blue eyes, brown eyes, green eyes. Big noses, tiny noses, bumpy noses, freckly noses. Long hair, short hair, curly hair, frizzy hair. Blonde, brown, black, grey, white. Huge ears, wrinkly ears, hairy ears. Some of the men wear pants, others tunics or skirts. Some have short hair, some have long hair. Some wear earrings, some don't. Some women have bare chests, others are covered from head to toe, some have colorful tatoos and shaved heads, others have plates in their lips. 

We are different, different is good, different is important.

Yesterday my daughter told me she heard something someone said to a classmate of hers. It was not outright offensive but she grasped the fine line between funny and hurtful and felt bad for him. This made me happy, because now I know she has the sensitivity to think more about how she communicates with people.

If we all stop to think before we speak, we could avoid a lot of hurt. I do it, we all do it, every day, usually without noticing. We could avoid hurting those we love, our friends, our colleagues, our acquaintances and even and foremost strangers. 

Food is another powerful way to reach out to each other, cross borders and cultures, as Sasha reminds us every day. I try to expose my children to the world's incredible variety through the meals I prepare daily for my family.

This dish is definitely a result of globalization, an example of a fusion dish.

There are ingredients and inspirations from Maghreb, Thailand and Japan in this simple meal. It takes just a few minutes to throw together and is full of vitamins, it is light and extremely tasty. Once again I will be giving you general guidelines because how and what you use is really up to you and your personal taste. The dressing (which I found in an old Donna Hay book) has very little oil in it and to keep things even lighter and healthier I used less couscous (which you can buy whole wheat) and more veggies. Oh, and don't discard the tough stems, I have a recipe coming up for those too!

 

Light summer eggplant burgers

I can't believe I have been M.I.A. for almost two weeks. I think this is probably a first for me.

The three words that sum up my lack of cooking and posting these days are: work, diet and work.

I won't get into the whole description but I promise every child-free minute I had these days (and some none free-child hours) I spent working.

Oh, and of course my son got the dreaded stomach flu just as I was nearing my deadline... but I will not go into that either, because I really think that would be too much information.

Last but not least, when you are desperately trying to drop a few pounds, having a cooking blog is not ideal. So the only logical thing for me to do (yes, I know it is not an original solution, but hey, I missed you guys) is to share some of my ideas. I know some of you out there are in the same situation and even if you don't need to get rid of some winter blubber, who doesn't want to eat healthy, right?

Because the word diet makes me run (excuse the pun), I need to convince my brain I am eating normal food, real food. So I try to use the best quality ingredients, I make my dishes colorful, I try to come up with original ideas and to keep things as tasty as possible. Which, by the way, helps convince my family to eat what I am having without too much of a problem.

And so I present you the eggplant burger... yes, a vegetarian burger made with eggplant, but an inverted one, and lighter than the one I made here.

Enjoy!

Tuna and swordfish ceviche

The other day I finally made it to the hairdressers. I was greatly in need, my hair was extremely grateful.

Saying I dislike going to the hairdresser is an understatement. What seems to be a national passtime here in Italy, especially among the older gals, is something I dread. I mean, when you have a job and kids, the last thing you want to do is waste away your precious Saturday sitting at the hairdressers fighting throngs of other women. I can think of so many other things to do in those hours. Like stuffing some of the clothes overflowing from my laundry basket into the washing machine. Or running an errand. Or making a meal in daylight that I can actually post about. Or, so much better, spending the afternoon at the park with my family and maybe eating some sushi for lunch. Even pulling the fuzz balls off of my wool sweater has more appeal to be honest.

Besides hating to wait around for hours even if I have an appointment, I feel like a Christian in the Colosseum fighting off lions the girls insistently offering manicures, pedicures, special treatments, hair masks or their $50,00 bottles of shampoo and conditioner.

Not to mention going to a decent hairdresser is an expensive affair and you usually purposely mess up what you just paid for with your own hands the minute you turn the corner. And that on your walk home you realize every other woman has your hue of golden blond with warm highlights. I mean, is it just here that every woman over sixty seems to have the same puffed up bad hair color with blonde highlights that look like they were painted on by a road line marking machine?

Unfortunately the older you get the harder it is to walk around in your bed hair and to be taken seriously in life. Another unfortunate thing is that when you turn *beep* you have  a new problem to deal with, or rather a new color. White.

Why do men "grey"? Why do they get to call their white hair appealing things like pepper and salt or speckled? Why do George Clooney and Richard Gere just get sexier?

When a woman gets white hair, it is the beginning of the end. It is all downhill from there. They even dedicated a whole episode of Sex and the City to Samantha's discovery down south.

And why is the only white hair I have located exactly on the top of my head, where my hair parts, sticking up obnoxiously for the whole world to see, just in case people hadn't already noticed its annoying, wiry, thick texture. Couldn't I have more, but strategically hidden on the sides, under layers of youthful  hair? Not me, nuh-uh. My scalp seems to be saying: we ain't got much, so we might as well boast it.

So this is the story of when I went to the hairdressers to hide those little suckers and for the first time (because it wasn't a Saturday and I wasn't in a rush and because I had said no enough times) decided to go with the flow and have the half hour treatment to pamper my hair with nutrients and such.

And lo and behold I discovered a new world. The lady I was assigned to put on Barbra Streisand from an IPad lying next her station, she pulled out a foot rest from the chair I was sitting in and pushed a button that got the rollers going in what I discovered was a massage chair (I instantly felt like Sally hanging out with Harry in The Sharper Image). She then proceeded to massage a personalized concoction into my hair and I decided to enjoy it for the few mintues it lasted.

Little did I know the massage would last the whole half hour of hair mask. The woman massaged my head, my neck, my shoulders, my face. She even massaged my ear lobes! Who even knew ear lobes liked massages? Well, let me tell you, they do. 

When it was over, not only did the camouflaged white hair make me look 5 years younger, I also felt a decade younger. Lady, why didn't you just tell me I would get a free massage with my hair treatment???

Because I am still feeling good, and because I am trying to improve my eating habits and lose a few pounds these days, my recipe today is a healthy and tasty dish that is good for the body and soul.

Ceviche, as I am sure most of you know, is a Central-South American seafood dish prepared cooking the fish in citrus juice, usually lime, instead of heat. It is often accompanied by fresh cilantro (coriander), chili peppers and raw vegetables like onions, avocado etc. I left out the heat factor for my kids and used tomatoes, small green peppers, cucumbers and chives to make it as refreshing and light as possible. I also added a tablespoon of dried unsweetened coconut and a pinch of banana chipotle salt from  Farm Candy to give it a tropical hint and a teeny touch of heat. You can really play around with ingredients and quantities, so I am only giving you guidelines. Use any vegetable that appeals to you, or none for that matter, choose your favorite citrus (I am partial to lime), pick any fish you like but make sure it is very fresh.

This will make a great appetizer served with some toasted bread or tortilla chips or a healthy salad for lunch.

Salmon with pomegranate molasses glaze and roasted peaches

Remember how I mentioned a while back that these days my kids have a more active social life than their parents? Well, my children also live a more glamorous life than we do these days. While Mommy and Daddy sit in the office next week, little big girl will be on vacation again. Not bad, eh?

The first night she slept away from us a little over a half year ago I was nervous. The first time she left home for almost a week a few months ago my heart was breaking. The second time we dropped her off for a week less than a month ago I shed a few tears in the car.

This time I refuse to acknowledge that little ache in the upper left part of my chest. I will not have visions of myself sitting on the couch in an old pyjama à la Bridget Jones to the notes of All By Myself. I will blink back those tears and focus on what happens when she comes back.

We are going on vacation. There will be beautiful beaches, great wine, fabulous food. But most of all there will be family, friends, laughs, love. There will be my sister, who is my best friend. There will be my three beautiful blond-haired, blue-eyed German nephews. There will be their smart, fun loving dad. And last, but not least, the woman who started this all. My Mommy.

So there.

The detox continues. I am feeling healthier already and one pound lighter.

No surprise then that I was thrilled yesterday when I found inspiration on Dinners & Dreams to use up exactly the ingredients I had in my fridge. I played around with the recipe to accomodate some ingredients I wanted to use and leave out others I didn't have. The result was tangy, sweet, caramelized and tender at the same time.

The original recipe was meant for the grill and I am sure that would probably give even more delicious results but since I don't have one I roasted the salmon instead. In an attempt to eat as healthy as possible and cut some of the fattiness of the salmon, I roasted some peaches alongside. They were soft and sweet and juicy, just perfect. In less than 30 minutes I made a healthy meal fit for a king.

The next time I make this I will discard the excess marinade so it doesn't burn on the baking tray during roasting. This will allow me to set the oven on grill and raise the temperature so I can cook the fish for a shorter amount of time but at higher heat. This will make the salmon crunchier without overcooking it.