Plum galette with ginger ricotta filling

 

 

Plums may have been one of the first fruits to be domesticated by humans. Remains have been found dating from the Neolithic age. They were mentioned in writing by Confucius (also, in Chinese mythology, plums are associated with age and wisdom), the Greeks and the Romans.

 

They are the most cultivated fruit in the world after apples and they come in many colors, sizes and shapes. Plums are used in both sweet and savory preparations. They can be dried, pickled and are used to make alcoholic beverages in several countries.

 

Blah, blah, blah...

 

I know. You didn't come here for this. I mean, these facts may have been interesting and even amusing (in a nerdy-foodie kinda way), but this? This is just boring. Stuff you already know, and if you don't, maybe it is because you don't particularly care to know it.

Am I right?

 

I did want to tell you something... it's just that...

 

...

 

... my mind is a total blank...

 

For the life of me, I cannot come up with one single amusing or entertaining thing to write today.

 

 

 

 

 

But I have a dessert for you that I am just dying to share. I want to tell you about it even if I don't have a cutesy preamble for you. After all, this is a food blog, is it not?

 

So I am going to cut right to the chase and give you the recipe for a delightful, very seasonal, rustic yet elegant galette to make with your overabundance of plums.

 

Hope you enjoy it as much as I did.



 

 

Nectarine streusel cake

 

 

Growing up in a multicultural family was not always easy. I spent a lot of my life feeling like the odd-one-out wherever I was, like I never fit in anywhere 100%.

 

I was always a little different, the American when in school, the Italian when going back home for vacation. I had German speaking nannies in the States, English speaking nannies in Italy.

 

 

Then again, being a mix of sorts had its perks.

 

I got to travel a lot to see family.

 

I learned early on that different is good, interesting, enriching.

 

It also meant learning many lanuguages.  

 

 

My first words in New York were German. When the English was starting to sink in we moved to Paris for a year and my brain got rewired. I wouldn't really say I speak French, but I certainly have a knack for it. Then we moved back and when I finally learned to read and write in English, we moved to Italy, where I started over again in a new language. I even picked up Venetian on the way and a few words of Swedish and Spanish.

 

 

 

When we were kids, my sister and I had fun listening in on tourists' conversations, we always had a secret language to gossip in wherever we were and we got to daydream (more than we usually did) during English and German class in school. 

 

I could read books and watch movies in a variety of languages and making friends on vacation was easy once I got over my initial painstaking shyness towards my peers.

 

I never, however, was shy around adults and it entertained them to no end to hear me readily switch from one language to another without a moment's hesitation.

 

 

 

Languages are key for who I am and what I do today.

 

Last, but not least, languages are useful if you spend a lot of time ogling recipes. If my mother wasn't German, I probably would not have been able to make this recipe and translate it for you. Which is a very good thing, believe me. Once you have tasted how the silky fruit makes the baked batter go all custardy in its proximity, becoming the perfect contrast to the crumbly, crystallized buttery topping, you will understand how right I am.

 

 

 

 

Dark chocolate tart with salted caramel and pecan filling

Friday was a crazy day at work. One of those days when you barely have time to eat in front of your computer because it wastes precious time. Friday was also the day I was supposed to pick up my passport at the Consulate. And the day of a general transportation strike.

Luckily I ride a bike to work so it didn’t really matter. Not until I got on it and realized the bike chain had come off of the chain holder, when or how I have no idea. So I started fixing it like I have done several times in the past. I was in a real rush, stressed about work and about my passport (remember my red tape phobia) and to top it all off I was getting black grease all over my hands. It got stuck, completely stuck, as in the pedals no longer turned forwards or back.

So now I was stuck too: no bike, no public transportation. Loads of work to get done and the clock at the Consulate ticking away.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

“Do you need any help?”

A group of college students had stopped and one of them was reaching out to help me. I usually tend to smile politely and say “no thank you” when people offer to help me, out of shyness and/or sheer embarrassment but I was so relieved I immediately exclaimed “yes!”, only to realize he would soon be covered in grease too. I warned him and offered him my gloves, but he of course politely refused (in retrospect that was sort of a weird offer come to think of it. I mean, would you wear a stranger's gloves? A lady’s - I cringe as I write that word - gloves at that, if you were a pimply college kid?).

He worked on my bike for a while, almost gave up at one point, but finally managed to fix it. I was so happy I could’ve hugged him. I said thank you a million times and waved goodbye. Now I wish I had offered them all a coffee and a croissant as I instinctively wanted to, but I was in such a rush I didn’t. Well, that is the official reason. Also, I thought they (or I?) would be embarassed to hang around making polite conversation. I regret it now, in the name of what I will write below.

Isn’t it amazing how just the right thing sometimes happens at the right time and turns a really bad day into a good day? A person who is totally disconnected from you makes a small, kind gesture for no reason other than helping you and really makes a difference.

There are so many times we are about to do something for someone and we don’t because we don’t want to intrude, we feel shy or we are simply in a rush.

Don’t hesitate, just do it! It can make all the difference.

There are times when we do things for people, like hold a door or move out of someone’s way, and they don’t even acknowledge it, making us regret we even tried to be polite or kind. Sc**w them!

It doesn’t matter, just do it anyway! It may not make a difference to them, but it will to someone else another day.

My point being, when a total stranger reaches out to you, takes their time to help not only does it make your day a better one, but it reminds you that despite all the horror and rudeness and indifference out there, people are fundamentally good. The more people make small gestures, the better place the world becomes.

Thank you, college guy, for reminding me.

Making caramel

But now about the tart. I discovered a lovely new blog the other day, where I cam across this recipe. I wanted to make a special cake for a special friend, to belatedly celebrate his birthday. I wanted something a little more than the usual cake. This turned out to be exactly what I was looking for. It is a rich, decadent tart, the kind you eat on special occasions. The contrast between the dark chocolate, the sweet velvety interior, the crunchy pecans and the flakes of sea salt is an experience. I suggest you try it.

Make it on a day when you have time. It is not difficult but it must be prepared in three separate steps, cooling in between. I got worried when I started reading about candy thermometers and caramel, because I am a scaredy cat about that kind of stuff but it turned out to be much easier than I had predicted. And you don’t need a candy thermometer. If doubtful, just take the caramel off a little earlier rather than a little later.

P.S. I have a shiny, new passport. Now on to the next step.

10-minute or faux tarte tatin

I am aware that a tarte tatin is a complex affair, a thing to be taken very seriously, whose preparation involves great love and skill.

Then again, as a working mother of two, I am always short on time and so once again I am proposing a short cut. I do however feel the need to point out that this recipe is in no way trying to rival the original, because we all know that is impossible.
Along with pecan pie, tarte tatin is F's favorite dessert. We spent our honeymoon in Paris one cold December many moons ago and tarte Tatin was his way of ending almost every meal. While I stuffed myself silly with molten chocolate cakes and chocolate mousse, he happily spooned creme fraiche onto his tarte tatin.

These days things are a little more crazy than they were back in Paris, but I still like to spoil my husband every once in a while. There is a restaurant in Mallorca that is famous for its paper thin version of tarte tatin that must be ordered at the beginning of the meal because it is baked express in single portions and served warm with vanilla ice cream. I took F there for his second birthday celebration and he looked forward to his birthday cake all evening.

Imagine my delight when I came across Nigella's forgotten (by me) recipe for a tarte fine aux pommes. It looked just like it so I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I made some minor adjustments in shape, exchanging the suggested Granny Smith apples with yellow ones and by adding a light layer of jam. What I didn't leave out was the creme fraiche (now you know why I had my favorite salmon dip a few times this past week), bringing back so many newlywed memories and making it taste close to a tarte tatin.

My husband ended up not having any because he was not feeling well, but everyone else enjoyed it and I guess it is the thought that counts, right?

Lime tart and Milan's hidden corners

Summer arrived a few months early. During the week end temperatures reached 33°C, and I saw a thermometer in the sun that read 39°C! This is not natural, not even in the Mediterranean. So we spent most of our week end outdoors, picnicking in the park, taking walks and basking in the beautiful sunshine.

Milan, not always considered a gem among the many beautiful Italian towns, is called the city of hidden gardens, terraces and courtyards.

Here are a few corners off the beaten track (for tourists at least).

The Idroscalo was originally built for hydroplanes in the Twenties. It is now a recreational area for the city of Milan.

 

We also went to Villa Necchi Campiglio. Did any of you see the movie "I am Love" starring Tilda Swinton (2009)? The villa, which was said to be the real star of the movie, was built in the Thirties and is an example of Italian proto-modernist architecture, with stunning interiors, that also boasts an imposing art collection. Access to the gardens is free and it is a nice place to sit and read a newspaper while sipping a cappucino or enjoying lunch at the café by the tennis court.

The Necchis didn't have it bad, with a private garden, tennis court and swimming pool right in the center of Milan. 



Discrete garbage can

Villa Necchi Campiglio
via Mozart, 14
Milano
tel. 02.76340121

And did you know that just a few steps away, there are flamingos year-round in the garden of Villa Invernizzi? Whenever we walk by, my kids love to press their noses agains the gates and look at them.

On Saturday we went to a friends' house for a housewarming party. Inspired by the almost florescent green leaves exploding even in the most grey corners of this city, I decided to make a lime tart. Out came my Joy of Cooking, my already open pack of Digestive cookies and that bag of limes that had been patiently sitting in my fridge waiting for my attention. I had two cans of condensed milk in my cupboard from another dessert I made a while back. I was set to go. Isn't it the best feeling when you make a great dessert using things you already have? I just love it.

Notes to self: do not bake a cake that involves whipped cream at the height of summer (or in the first decade of April, like I could've known...). The whipped cream started melting while I was taking pictures.

Chocolate ganache tart with hazelnut crust and chocolate glaze - Help Japan

Posting about a dessert when tragedy has hit my fellow humans in such enormous proportions seems terribly superficial. Talking about ganache and toasting hazelnuts seems inappropriate when what I am really thinking about are my close friends facing yet another difficult health-related challenge. Beating eggs while history is being rewritten right across the Mediterranean seems silly.

The truth is that no matter in what proportions tragedy hits, whether macro or micro, life goes on. Life made up of small gestures like going to work, preparing a meal or picking up your kids from school. These are the things that keep you grounded when your own life has been overturned. We all see enough images of tragedy on the evening news, on the Internet, photographed on newspapers. And lets face it, even if something is not splattered across the front pages of the papers and we go on living our everyday lives, there is still something terrible happening somewhere to someone, for such is life.

I realize this is not the place to discuss the tragedies of our planet. People clicking onto my blog don't need to hear more about them, they come here to get an idea for dinner, but also for distraction, to escape everyday life for a few minutes, or so I like to think. I made lasagne with pesto without commenting on our Prime Minister's frolicking, I baked chocolate chip cookies while dictators were being overthrown and uttered not a word. But sometimes it is impossible to ignore what is happening outside, in the real world. So forgive my digression. This is my ode to normality.

Perhaps rolling out dough and following precise steps can be soothing, can momentarily distract from painful thoughts, can help bring back a touch of normality to someone's home.

For us, this cake was a celebration of friendship. We shared it with good friends and thought of other good friends who are not close enough to come by for a cup of coffee, a slice of cake and some words of comfort. Being close to people you love, family or friends, enjoying their company in a warm home while it is raining outside is a privilege we must never take for granted. So if you make this, promise me you will savor every bite. Think of the earthquake victims. Think of a loved one going through a rough time. And maybe bring them a slice, even just with your thoughts. I know I did.

Adapted from Dulce Delight. 

With this cake I am participating in the online bake sale for Japan promoted by The Tomato Tart. Sabrina is the mind behind this fabulous idea, a way to try to help support Japan in its darkest hour. I am so happy she has offered me the opportunity to contribute somehow. The auction  proceeds will be donated to Second Harvest Japan, a food bank that is working right now to respond to the immediate needs of the people displaced by this disaster. Whoever is interested in participating, please contact Sabrina directly through her blog. She was very helpful and promptly replied to all my questions.

Goatgonzola and pureed broccoli tart, which rhymes with broken heart (as my daughter would say)

This post is more about motherhood than food, so if you have already started yawning, skip right ahead to the recipe, if you can even call it that, or see you next time.

For you moms and dads and the one or two who don't have kids (don't say I didn't warn you) still sticking around, here goes.

I always considered myself a pretty cool mom. Not as in 'I am a smokin' hot mama', more as in 'I try to be pretty relaxed when it comes to my kids'.

I am not one of those overly anxious, overprotective, overconcerned or overly nosey moms.

If my kid falls, I usually wait a second before I run over to scoop him/her up in my arms, I try to gauge how badly he/she may have gotten hurt before going all dramatic (except for that one time). When my kids play with other children, I am usually all for letting them settle their little disputes, unless I am aware that my child is greatly at fault or that my kid is being bullied. In the latter case I actually want to go over there and smack the bully in his/her snotty little face try to not interfere unless my child really cannot handle it and if I do I try to be neutral and objective. Ultimately, I think they need to learn to fend for themselves early on because it is a tough world out there and as long as they are in a safe environment under parental control, nothing that bad can happen to them. I am also not the kind of mom who needs to know every single detail about what is going on in their school, who said what, who did what and why.