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Smith Island Cake

To introduce this recipe we must turn the clock back to around 1607.  At the time history records the epic journey of John Smith et al. to a location that became Jamestown in Virginia,  the first permanent settlement by non-native Americans in what eventually became the U.S.  Soon Jack Smith befriended a native American woman by the name of Pocohantas as we all know.  What we did not know is that Ms. Pokey followed Jack around as he explored the southern parts of what became known as the Chesapeake Bay.

Amongst his stops along the bay Jack landed on an island that,  at his request,  immediately became known as Smith Island.  With Pocohantas in tow Jack settled onto the island for a time and,  getting a bit hungry,  asked Pokey to bake him a cake,  which she did obligingly from scratch,  without a word of protest.  Repeating this feat time and again, eventually Pokey’s magnificent creation became known as the Smith Island Cake.  That’s the story  – or close to it.

Now be aware that Smith Island Cake is no ordinary delicacy.  Eventually it became so popular that the Maryland General Assembly passed a resolution naming it as Maryland’s official dessert.  Maryland also has an official bird (the oriole, not the raven) and other random official state creatures and artifacts like most other states.  All of that aside, making this historical goody at home is a challenge of huge proportions for all but card-carrying Smith Islanders,  make no mistake.

While multi-layer cakes have been around since time immemorial I haven’t run across any that call for ten layers separated by a filling of one kind or another.  The Smith Island Cake – if you’re setting out to reproduce the traditional – is a ten-layer production and the layers are separated most often by chocolate filling.  Before we get into this more deeply think about how you will go about creating ten cake layers each of which is about one quarter inch in thickness and maybe less.  The logistics are daunting.

Research uncovered a recipe published by the Washington Post in 2008 and attributed to the late Smith Islander Frances Kitching (owner of Kitching’s Kitchen maybe??) reportedly the first to create the ten-layer production model.  Not being much of a baker (all my carbs come from pizza and pasta per doctor’s orders) I nonetheless decided to take this on for a house party.  I immediately began searching my mind for a shortcut that would not compromise the original in any way.

I also racked my brain for a slight variaton that would render my effort not only somewhat unique but also introduce an unobtrusive,  but for me most obligatory Italian nuance to the project.  FYI there are no Italian descendants on Smith Island.  I checked.

The shortcut consists of baking two layers at a time with two 9-inch round cake pans thus requiring only 3 oven round trips.  The layers were then meticulously separated with the help of a long thin fish filet knife,  the only tool that will do the job.  Actually since I embarked on the project I discovered that today one can obtain from an on-line catalog one of those nifty layer cutters that will supposedly yield eight thin layers.  That would cut the oven round trips to two, assuming the gadget performs as advertised.

The “nuance”  I boldly introduce is the brushing on each layer of about 1/4 cup or so of sugar syrup spiked with Galliano lemon liqueur,  supported by the addition of a tablespoon of finely grated lemon zest to the cake recipe.  Beyond that Aunt Frances’  version of Pocohantas’  loving gift to John Smith rules supreme.  So here it is along with my humble embellishment.

The Kitching/Pocohantas Smith Island Cake

For a ten-layer cake:

  • 2 sticks unsalted butter at room temperature
  • 3 cups flour plus extra for dusting pans
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 2 cups sugar divided
  • 1 tbsp. finely grated lemon zest
  • 5 large eggs
  • 1 cup evaporated milk
  • 2 tsp. vanilla extract
  • 1/2 cup water

For the Galliano syrup:

  • 1/2 cup sugar
  • 1/2 cup water
  • 2/3 cup Galliano (or more why don’t you)

For the filling and icing:

  • 2 1/2 cups sugar
  • 1 1/2 cups evaporated milk
  • 6 oz. unsweetened chocolate chopped
  • 1 stick unsalted butter
  • 1 tsp. vanilla extract

Note:  the amounts for filling and icing specified in the Washington Post recipe are not adequate for spreading on ten layers and covering the outside surface of the cake.  The amounts have been adjusted upward accordingly.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Butter the cake pans generously and cover with flour.  Shake off excess flour.
Sift flour,  salt and baking powder.  Beat butter and sugar together in electric mixer until smooth.  Add eggs one at a time.  Reduce speed and add the lemon zest and dry ingredients one cup at a time.  Add evaporated milk,  vanilla and water and beat until well combined.
Place  1 and 1/3 cups batter into each of two 9-inch cake pans spreading as evenly as possible.  Bake for about 15 minutes or until you hear no sizzling in the pan (don’t stick your head in the oven to conduct this test).  Meanwhile make the icing.
Combine the sugar and evaporated milk in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat.  Add the butter and chocolate and stir constantly until all is combined and melted.  Cook at medium heat for an addition ten minutes.  Remove from the heat and add the vanilla.  The icing will be thin but will thicken when cool.
Remove the cakes and place on a bakers rack.  Repeat the baking cycle with the two pans cleaned, rebuttered and floured.  Proceed to the Galliano.

Do not drink the Galliano until you are sure you have enough for the syrup.  Heat the sugar,  water and Galliano in a saucepan until completely dissolved.  Set aside.  You should have around 1 1/2 cups.
Bake the last pan with the remaining batter.  Meanwhile begin slicing the  5 double layer cakes with a long thin knife just as you would butterfly a chicken breast.  Work carefully all along the cake edge until you feel the layers separating completely.  If you carry this out without tearing the layers reward yourself with the remaining Galliano.

Place the first layer on a cake platter,  cut side up.  Brush with the Galliano syrup,  spread a thin layer of chocolate filling and repeat the process until all layers are dressed.  Use the remaining filling to ice the sides and top of the cake.

You are done.

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Sea Shells By The Seashore

As a Rhode Island native I was drawn into the usual saltwater pastimes like fishing,  boating and swimming.  After all Rhode Island is officially called the Ocean State,  don’t you know,  even though it has about 1/100th the ocean shoreline as Florida.

For me the most rewarding saltwater time killer was capturing sedentary and helpless bivalves on Narragansett Bay that had no way of escaping once I got hold of them with primitive tools such as a clam rake or oyster tongs.  I got to be pretty good at it and I carried this dubious skill with me when I moved to Washington D.C. and eventually the Eastern Shore of Maryland on retirement.  I have the rubber chest waders and clam rake up in the attic to testify as to the truth of all this. Notice I said “up in the attic.”

In the world of shellfish knowledge of the proper nomenclature is important if you are not motivated for clam digging and have to truck on down to the fish market to buy your shellfish.  You need to know what to ask for.

There are dozens of varieties of hardshell clams  but the most familiar goes by the redundant official name Mercinaria mercenaria.  Within that category there are differences based on size.  The largest hardshells have two names depending on whether you are a Rhode Islander or someone less fortunate.  If a Rhode Islander you will be acquiring “quahogs,”  the Algonquian Indian name given to fist-sized chowder clams.  They are only good ground up for soups,  stews,  stuffing and fried clam cakes – the latter being an item sold exclusively in Rhode Island and nowhere else.  A mystery because they are delicious and deserve national attention.

Next down the line we have top necks and cherrystones.  Since clams have no necks I don’t know how this word crept into the description.  In any case either one can be used for raw clams on the half-shell or baked Clams Casino.

Lastly we get down to the small ones,  i.e. the little necks and countnecks.  These are the ones best for classic spaghetti alle vongole or spaghetti with clam sauce – a popular dish throughout Italy and the coastal U.S. as well.  Supermarkets sometimes offer a variety of small brown colored clams from Asiatic waters called mahogany clams (maybe Phillipine mahogany??)  a distant relative of the U.S. hardshell but good enough for all the spaghetti recipes.

Drilling down even further,  if you order spaghetti alle vongole in Genoa or Naples you will notice the hardshell clams in your dish are about the size of your thumbnail.  Have to say that sauces made with these sweet “mini-necks” have no equal,  but they are nowhere to be found in the U.S. as far as I can tell.

Incidentally people claim that here on the Eastern Shore of Maryland – a region known for its more or less southern conservative outlook on life –  there exists another hard clam subspecies.  They’re called Red Necks.  Haven’t found any yet but I know they’re out there somewhere on the waters of Assawoman Bay. (Yes,  Assawoman Bay – no joke –  it’s an actual place name and it’s right outside my back door).

The other shellfish varieties relatively easy to catch on a hot summer day in the saltwater shallows are mussels and oysters.  Here again we confront a nomenclature issue.  It has to do with the oyster.  Around the world the oyster is an oyster,  but on the Maryland Eastern Shore it is an “orshter.”  This is important because if you approach an Eastern Shore fishmonger and ask for oysters you will get a blank stare.  They only sell orshters.  Two dozen orshters please.

For now we are leaving oysters,  scallops,  soft-shell clams aside to zero in on clams and mussels.

To do that let’s now switch over to a resort and fishing port suburb of Rome,  Italy,  called Fiumicino – known more for the big international airport nearby (code name FCO) than anything else.  On a recent visit,  instead of heading directly for Rome,  I cabbed on over to the Fiumicino beach front and at the cabbie’s suggestion got dropped off at a restaurant called Il Veliero – The Sailing Ship.  Here for lunch and in glorious weather I had the good fortune to select – entirely at random –  their version of shellfish soup containing strictly clams and mussels in a light tomato broth.

The uninspiring name for it on the menu is “Soup with Clams and Mussels”.  No shrimp,  calamari,  crab or anything.   It was served up with crusty bread slices.   The dish exceeded all expectations.  When it was time to go I confronted the chef on the way out and under duress he agreed to reveal the recipe after promising him I would keep it a secret at all cost.  It is as follows:

Zuppa di Cozze e Vongole “Il Veliero”

For 4 persons:

  • 2 doz. top neck or 2 1/2 doz. littleneck clams scrubbed clean
  • 2 dozen or so mussels scrubbed clean and beards removed if any
  • 1 28 oz. can tomato sauce or puree
  • 1/2 cup chopped fresh flat leaf parsley
  • 1 tbsp. chopped fresh dill weed
  • 2 large cloves garlic (more if you’re a garlic lover)
  • 2 cups dry white wine
  • 2 cups fish or vegetable bouillon (try to resist the temptation to use chicken)
  • 1 tbsp. fresh lemon juice
  • 1/2 teaspoon crushed fennel seeds
  • 2 tbsp. fresh celery leaves finely chopped
  • 1/4 cup or so extra virgin olive oil
  • salt & freshly ground black pepper to taste
  • Toasted French bread slices

In a large soup pot or dutch oven soften garlic in hot olive oil.  Do not brown the garlic!  Remove it from the pan,  chop finely and set aside.  Place the clams in the pot on medium high heat.  Add wine,  lemon juice,  parsley and dill.  When clams just start to open add the mussels.  Stir  and continue cooking until all shellfish is fully opened up.  With tongs remove everything from the pot and set aside.  Let the wine broth reduce slightly then add the boullion and tomato puree to the pot along with fennel seeds,  celery,  lemon juice and reserved garlic.  Heat thoroughly then return all shellfish to the pot and continue cooking on medium heat for about 5 minutes.  Serve with the toasted french bread although the customary alternative choice for the starch accompaniment in this recipe would be linguine. Try both.

Finally,  just to get you properly oriented geographically here’s a partially obstructed shot of the Tyrrhenian Sea near Rome taken from the restaurant’s oceanfront terrace:

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Tiramisu’ Buttami Giu’!

Notwithstanding the lack of popular demand I venture into the world of the sweet,  leaving the savory aside for a moment.  You see my carbohydrate input is restricted by my physician (Guido Santini MD) to pasta dishes and pizza – no sweets.  So I rarely make desserts except for special occasions or on request.  When the call comes I often select the well known Italian dessert that translates into “pull me up.” I have playfully added the phrase “throw me down” in Italian to the title above.

Pull me up you say?  Where on earth did this name originate???

Roaming around the sites one discovers that Tiramasu’ has a murky past.   At one extreme the origin is believed to go back only to the 1980’s.  At the other it is alleged to have been born in the northern Italian town of  Treviso back in Renaissance times and named after an amateur pastry chef whose maiden surname was actually Tiramisu’.  Francesca “Franny”  Tiramisu’.  Remember her?  Another theory is that because the ingredients include espresso coffee one experiences a sort of boost,  or pick-me-up from it.

Whatever the origin this item shows up on the dessert menus of thousands of Italian-themed restaurants throughout the world.  The good news is that at only 350 calories per bite one can easily work off a serving by running the Boston Marathon.

First some trivia:  The one controversy surrounding Tiramisu’  is whether to add a liqueur to the recipe or not.  The web sources claim liqueur was never part of the original,  but the vast majority of current recipes that I have pulled up so far call for Cognac,  Amaretto or something similar (Kahlua maybe?).

All of which allows us to get down to the particulars:

Authentic (or not) Tiramisu’

For 8-10 servings:

  • 5 eggs separated
  • 5 tbsp. granulated sugar
  • 1 lb. mascarpone cheese at room temperature
  • 1/4 cup Amaretto liqueur
  • 1/4 cup Cognac
  • approx. 30 lady fingers,  dry or soft
  • 2 cups sweetened espresso coffee or any strongly-flavored coffee
  • cocoa powder for dusting

Whip egg whites until very stiff and set aside.  Whip the egg yolks with the sugar until pale and thickened.  Add the mascarpone a little at a time until fully incorporated with the yolks.  Add half the amaretto and half the cognac.  Mix and then fold in the egg whites.  Add the rest of the liqueurs to the coffee.  Place the coffee in a pan suitable for dredging the lady fingers.  Have two 5×9″ loaf plans ready.

Dip the lady fingers one by one quickly in the coffee.  If they break the pieces can still be used to create the layers.  Arrange the first layer to cover the bottom of the pan.  On top of the first layer place three or four heaping tablespoons of the egg/mascarpone mixture and spread evenly.  Repeat this procedure til you reach the top of the pan.  Three layers should fit.  Finish with a topping of the egg/mascarpone mixture,  dust cocoa powder over the top and refrigerate for 6-8 hours,  or take a short cut and let the freezer do some of the work.

Serve with amaretto cookies on the side or a scoop of coffee ice cream.  Dust additional cocoa powder around the plate.  Since you fasted all day you can eat a 6 oz. serving without feeling guilty.  Otherwise join up with the marathon contestants in Boston.

Unique TiramisuP.S. I was struck by the tasty version produced by a not-yet-well known Italian trattoria located in Rehoboth Beach DE called A Touch of Italy.  Note the lady fingers in this version cannot be doused in espresso coffee otherwise they would not stand up to look like the Stonehenge monument.  Hence we classify this version as ‘druidic’ and non-traditional.

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More Anchovy Is Better

This is for the millions of people around the world who hate anchovies.   I want to introduce them to the 250 people who love them and like to eat them right out of the can.  Yes, even though they have been salted down and eaten for thousands of years it is amazing that the knee-jerk negative reaction to anchovies is still so prevalent,  especially among folks who never tasted them.  I now know why.  It’s because anchovies are actually a health food and only health food fans receive them with joy.  All others,  innocent and unknowing,  remain suspicious.

So to try to make a dent in the unwarranted negative attitude that emerges anytime a recipe calls for anchovy I offer a few factoids.

Number one, obviously anchovies are a fish,  to be precise the official name of the type we find in the stores is engraulis encrasiculus. They are swimming around in huge numbers with about 140 other variations from sea to shining sea.   A fish they are indeed and a very oily one at that,  like salmon and mackerel.  Consequently the cardiologists of the world should be encouraging their consumption aggressively since they contain inordinate amounts of omega-3 fatty acids –  you know,  the stuff that prevents heart attacks.

That explains why Sicilians,  Portuguese, Greeks and other Southern Mediterranean populations have roughly half the rate of heart disease as the U.S.  The anchovy,  with the help of other piscatorial relatives is a benevolent contributing factor.  (I know I’m going to be challenged on all this but I’m ready).

Number two.  Anchovies are not “fishy.”  If you think they’re fishy then you think tuna and lobster are fishy.  In their natural state anchovies have no fishy flavor whatsoever as long as they’re fresh.  The salting process is responsible for amplifying the natural flavor to a point where one might consider it fishy but the salt can be easily removed.  Also during cooking  a lot of the flavor they started out with in the can is toned down.

OK,  as for the salt it requires little or no effort to remove this offending chemical from the picture.   All it takes is a soaking in milk or water for 30 minutes or so.  Even if you don’t remove the salt using anchovy in a recipe makes it unnecessary to add additional amounts since it might supply all you need.  So the bottom line is if you can bring yourself around to regarding anchovies as a health food we are going to get along just fine.

In the U.S. probably the most predominant use of anchovies is in “classic” Caesar Salad.  “Classic” in quotes because,  don’t you know,  anchovies were never a part of the original Caesar recipe developed by Chef Cesare Cardini way back when in Mexico.  They found their way into the salad dressing recipe somewhat indirectly.  Caesar’s brother and restaurant partner Al,  to give the recipe his own fingerprint one supposes,  brushed the croutons with chopped anchovy.  In any event anchovies are now ensconced in the preparation and without them people have a right to claim they are not being served a genuine Caesar’s.

If you like really good Caesar salad you like anchovy.  You just have to own up to it.

One other note:  Now and then on the cooking shows you find the chefs reaching for a can of dry-packed salted whole anchovies rather than the filets packed in oil and widely sold in the flat oval cans or small bottles.  I used the dry-packed specimens myself for a while until I finally realized that washing off the salt and prepping them for use is so labor intensive it qualifies for inclusion in the Jobs Bill.

The fish are packed whole with only the head missing.  There are gill covers,  tiny scales, entrails and a nasty looking spinal chord that has to be surgically removed.  Plus they only come in cans like the one in the photo big enough for a 20-year supply.  Storing them in the refrigerator without polluting everything in it is not possible but then again with all that salt they probably don’t need refrigeration after opening anyway.

Forget this version despite what you hear from reknown TV Chef Mario Batali who insists they are superior.  They’re not.  Stick with the fish in the flat cans or better yet look for brands oil-packed in little glass bottles.  They are easier to store if you’re not using the whole batch at one time.

Finding a good brand is not always easy.  The flat cans sold under the Cento label are acceptable but it pays to search around for the bottled versions.

F.Y.I. The Caesar Salad recipe below is almost identical to the one found in the New York Times Cookbook. The book calls for an entire can of anchovies which I thought was a bit of overkill.  I use around 5 filets sometimes more but not the whole can for God’s sake.

Classic Caesar Salad

For 4 servings:

  • 1 large garlic clove crushed and finely chopped (don’t let garlic overpower the recipe)
  • 1 tbsp. Grey Poupon mustard
  • 1 tbsp. fresh lemon juice
  • 1 dash Tabasco
  • 2 heaping tbsp. grated imported Parmesan cheese
  • 3-4 anchovy filets
  • 1 egg (parboiled if you insist)
  • 1/2 cup or more olive oil
  • 1 head romain lettuce,  tough dark green leave tips trimmed back (amazing how many fancy restaurants don’t do this)
  • garlic croutons made from toasted baguette slices (pass up the jawbreakers from the store)
  • salt (if needed) and freshly ground black pepper

Process the first 7 ingredients then add the olive oil gradually until the mixure is smooth and creamy.  Adjust for salt but most likely the anchovy will have taken care of that for you.  Tear the romain lettuce into pieces by hand (Chef Cardini served up the lettuce leaves whole, as does Chef Jacques Pepin).  Toss with the dressing and croutons,  leaving some dressing to be served on the side.  Sprinkle some ground black pepper and toss again.

Additional factoid:  Chef Cardini went to Acapulco to open his restaurant to avoid the scourge of Prohibition in the U.S.

P.S. I suppose many folks take out the wooden salad bowl for this exercise and rub it with garlic before adding the other ingredients.  No need to do that unless your dinner party are all Sicilians.  Experiments have proven that they are the only people capable of distinguishing between a Caesar salad made in a garlic-rubbed wooden bowl from one that wasn’t.  But if you like the theatrical aspect of the garlic rubbing be my guest.  I’ll bet you know somebody who loves to do the garlic rub thing in front of an audience,  right?

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Appetizer Favorites

In the kitchen my early adult life was spent  slowly and absent-mindedly absorbing cooking knowledge from parents and grandparents.  At the time I rarely attempted to make anything that wasn’t connected with pasta or pizza.  Items of that description were my only output for years,  not counting my unremarkable achievements with the outdoor grill.

However later in life, as I started to think about retirement and the time it offers to pursue serious cooking and entertaining,  I began to look into appetizers,  soups,  salads and side dishes that are both tasty and, with notable exceptions,  easy to make,  leaving me more time to focus on the main dish.  Cooking school at Wor-Wic College in Salisbury MD introduced me to all the elements that make up a quality appetizer and other selections,  including the bite-sized stand-up-and-eat munchies that the French call “amuses bouche.”

After having practiced a number of recipes that fit within my skill set I went about serving up the selections to innocent bystanders at every occasion.  I served them often enough to convince me that they are worthy choices to introduce any meal or party occasion.  So I have gathered together for public scrutiny my top appetizer recipes.  Most of which are pretty basic,  familiar,  road tested and  never seem to fail.

 

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Insalata Caprese

 

Supposedly originating on the Isle of Capri this five ingredient basil-accented appetizer adorns just about every restaurant menu south of Rome.   Considered primarily a summer dish it cannot be accomplished properly without buffalo mozzarella.  The famous soft cheese from the milk of the water buffalo is rarely found in the chain supermarkets in the U.S.   In Italy on the other hand you can pick it up at gas station snack shops or their version of 7-Eleven,  known as “Despar” convenience stores.  Here in America you may have to hurry on down to Trader Joe’s,  a specialty shop or go online.    Make no mistake the imported product has nothing at all in common with mass-produced cow’s milk mozzarellas like Sargento or Sorrento/Galbani brands for instance.  Just be assured that if you can latch on to it you have a guaranteed winner!

For 4 persons:

  • 1 lb. buffalo mozzarella sliced into thin rounds (I use a thin blade fish fillet knife for this step)
  • 2-3 medium very ripe garden tomatoes sliced to ¼ inch thickness (hothouse or artificially ripened tomatoes don’t work,  tomatoes “on the vine,”  though,  are a workable substitute)
  • ¼ cup coarsely chopped fresh basil (the traditional version calls for hand-shredded leaves)
  • ½ cup extra virgin olive oil (drag out the premium bottle you got for Christmas)
  • salt & pepper to taste

Combine the basil and olive oil in a bowl, mix vigorously and allow to stand for a few minutes.  Meanwhile arrange the tomato slices alternately with the mozzarella on a serving dish.  Add salt and freshly ground black pepper.  Then drizzle the dish with the basil and olive oil.  Some recipes on the Italian websites call for a sprinkling of oregano as well.  Your call.

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Antipasto Misto

An arrangement of thinly sliced Italian cold cuts on a fancy platter has been a knockout feature of all the buffet dinner parties held so far here at the house.  As soon as they spot the platter guests don’t bother to make little sandwiches with the homemade baguette slices on the table.  They just pick up the meats with fingers and within minutes the platter is empty.  The secret is to take the time to locate a really good Italian deli in your area.  Except possibly for Wegman’s stores the supermarket chain stores are not the best place to search for the top quality selections,  although there are exceptions depending on the item.  For instance the  A&P Super Fresh chain in my area carries an excellent imported prosciutto under the Negroni label.  The prepackaged assorted cold cuts sold in the big box shops (Costco,  BJ’s)  are to be avoided.  Look around.  The good stuff is not that hard to find.  If you live in Montana you got a big problem.  If you live in Texas and can get to the Central Market in Dallas you are blessed!

A word about prosciutto.  There is no domestic brand that can compare to the imported product,  except for one.  That is the Daniele brand made in my home state of Rhode Island of all places.  Forget Boar’s Head,  Dietz & Watson,  Carando and all the other domestic imitators. I’ve tried them all and they don’t compare,  even though Daniele, acting as what we would call in the pharmaceutical industry a “contract manufacturer’  apparently is the actual producer of several of the other brands.  Problem is they follow their customer’s specs not their own.  I checked.

Other cured meats commonly used in Italy are Bresaola – made of cured and aged beef,   Sopressata – a style of cured pork similar to “peperone” in appearance but not taste, and Capocollo – pronounced “gabba gawl” by Tony Soprano and his gang.

For 8 persons:

  • 1/2 lb. thinly sliced imported Prosciutto di Parma fat trimmed
  • 1/2 lb.thinlhy sliced mortadella with pistachio (it’s worth searching for the version with pistachio nuts)
  • 1/2 lb. thinly sliced Genoa salame (in this case there is one domestic brand that beats everybody – Hormel!)
  • 1/2 lb. Abbruzzese or Calabrian dried sausage (found mostly in the specialty stores in whole links.  The deli should be willing to slice them up for you – thin as possible)
  • sprigs of fresh flat leaf parsely or basil for garnish

My way of presenting the cold cuts is to arrange the larger items (prosciutto, salame and mortadella)  in a tented form on the platter to gain some height.  The smaller slices can be arranged in spirals or any pattern you like.  Try out the other meat choices that are are the spicier and fattier,  sopressata or capocollo (pronounced ‘gaba-gawl’ by Tony Soprano), as well as the bresaola,  rarely found in the shops but no problem on line.  Serve with an olive medley and some roast red peppers.

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Caponata Siciliana

Many more food fanciers have heard of French ‘ratatouille’ than Sicilian ‘caponata.’  Nonetheless the two terms describe more or less the same vegetable appetizer built around the eggplant – a signal that the dish originated in the southern Mediterranean,  most likely North Africa and eventually exported to France by way of Sicily.

This particular recipe comes from a book The Food of Southern Italy by Chef Carlo Middione,  an outstanding authority on the cuisine of that region.  His great TV series “Carlo Cooks” has disappeared into the archives of television.  Carlo says the onions,  celery and eggplant dices must be cooked up separately because they require different cooking times and the eggplant needs to be browned on all sides.   However in my opinion cooking at least the celery and onions together is fine and saves time.

For 8-10 servings:

  • 3 medium fresh ripe tomatoes skins removed and diced (might be ok to use a can or so of diced tomatoes drained)
  • 1/3 cup Gaeta or Kalamata olives pitted (Gaeta olives are milder than the Kalamata but rarely found in pitted form)
  • 1/3 cup large green Sicilian olives or large Spanish Manzanilla pitted (no need to take out the pimento if any)
  • 2 heaping tbsp. golden raisins softened in hot water
  • 1 ½  tbsp. capers drained
  • 1/3 cup or more extra virgin olive oil
  • 1 large eggplant cut in ¾ inch dice (I peel off the black skin but most Sicilians don’t.  No need to salt and drain off the “bitter juices”,  it’s a waste of time)
  • 2 ribs celery diced
  • 1 large yellow onion coarsely diced
  • 3 tbsp. red wine vinegar
  • 2 heaping tbsp. lightly toasted pine nuts
  • salt & pepper to taste

In a bowl mix the diced tomatoes, vinegar, pine nuts,  olives and capers and set aside.  Heat 1/3 cup olive oil in a large saute’ pan.  Add the eggplant and after about 2 minutes begin turning and stirring occasionally to brown on all sides.  Add salt and pepper.  Remove eggplant to another container.  Add more oil to the pan if necessary and cook the celery and onions until softened,  again adding salt and pepper.   When the onions and celery are well softened, about 8-10 minutes,  return the eggplant to the pan.  Add the tomatoes,  olives,  pine nuts and capers and cook all the ingredients together for an additional 15 minutes at low heat.  Transfer to a serving container and let cool to room temperature.  Serve with slices of crusty bread.

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Oysters Rockefeller

This recipe is based on one found in the New York Times Cookbook (p. 42).  My version does not include chopped lettuce and parsley because I believe they detract from the spinach flavor.  Nor do I use the anchovy paste,  a veritable noxious substance that needs to be banned from the marketplace.  If you want to include anchovy (which is an essential item in my opinion)  mash a filet or two from the can that has been sitting around in your food closet for the last 6 months.  Some recipes (e.g. Tyler Florence)  call for parmesan cheese.  Do not go down that road.  Parmesan cheese will overpower everything else in the mix. Do you want to taste oysters or parmesan cheese?  You can’t do both!!

The main challenge is opening oyster shells,  a task that requires the strength of Arnold Schwarzenegger (when he was much younger),  and a touch of patience as well.  The way around this step of course is to purchase oysters already shelled and bottled in their own liquor.  You can ask the fishmonger to give you a bunch of empty bottom shells – not the flatter top shell characteristic of most East Coast oysters.   As for me however I don my apron,  my heavy duty rubber gloves,  grab my oyster knife and hack away at the stubborn critters – cell phone handy in case I have to dial 911.

Traditionally Oysters Rockefeller recipes call for a dash of Pernod liqueur in the topping.  I found that Sambuca works just as well.  Just don’t overpower the mixture with it,  whichever one you use.  I normally sample a shot or two before adding it to the topping just to be sure it’s ok.

For 6 persons:

  • 3 dozen oysters (shucked for you by ex-Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger or pre-shucked at the store)
  • 1 lb. or more rock salt (yes, the same stuff you use to melt the ice on your driveway)
  • 1 lb. cooked and finely chopped fresh spinach (try to avoid the temptation to use frozen chopped)
  • 1 large celery stalk finely chopped
  • 1 garlic clove finely minced (do you get the impression that ‘finely’ is a buzzword around here?)
  • ½ cup thinly sliced scallion (trim off the dark green portions)
  • ½ lb. unsalted butter (unsalted is the only variety of butter found in Chef Ludovico’s fridge)
  • ½ cup unseasoned bread crumbs
  • 1 tbsp. Worcestershire sauce
  • ½ tsp. salt or to taste
  • Tabasco sauce to taste (can also be served on the side)
  • 2 tbsp. Pernod or Sambuca liqueur (be sure to sample it first,  you never know)

Heat butter in a saucepan.  Add spinach, celery, garlic, scallions, bread crumbs, Worcestershire, Tabasco, salt and liqueur and stir until heated and well combined.  Remove from heat and refrigerate.  Place oysters on bottom shells and lay in a baking dish containing about a ½ inch layer of rock salt.  Top each one with a generous teaspoon or so of the spinach mixture.  Bake for 12-15 minutes depending on oyster size, or until hot to the touch.  Guard against overcooking.

If oysters are truly some sort of aphrodisiac as a precaution you should have your guests  take a cold shower before serving.

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Mozzarella in Carrozza

How this dish ever got its name is beyond me.   The literal translation is “Mozzarella in a Carriage”  but the recipe yields up the southern Italian equivalent of a grilled cheese sandwich elevated to a whole new level with the use of anchovy-flavored oil for the saute.  This immensely popular appetizer is in fact as easy to make as a grilled cheese sandwich, which is why it’s on my list.  The only consideration is the choice of mozzarella.  I make it a point to use the freshly made mozzarella packed in water found in the deli section of the store.  Just about every big chain supermarket in America has it available in that form,  so no excuses.  (To be honest some good ol’ American Muenster cheese works great also.  You can call it “Meunster in Carrozza”).

Needless to say there are hundreds of variations around,  not the least of which is Mario Batali’s version described in his book Molto Italiano. With all due respect to Mario his version,  which omits anchovy and bread crumbs,  and adds thyme – his favorite herb – is not at all what I remember during my years in Rome but,  again,  if it tastes good so what?   Nonetheless my attitude is “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.”  The traditional recipe below is gold plated and needs no tinkering!

For 4 persons:

  • 8 slices white bread,  crusts trimmed off
  • 1 lb. fresh mozzarella cheese thinly sliced
  • 3 or 4 anchovy filets mashed to a paste
  • 1/4 cup or more olive oil
  • 1 cup unseasoned bread crumbs
  • 2 eggs lightly beaten for dredging,  or 1 large egg plus 2 tbsp. milk
  • salt & freshly ground black pepper to taste
  • tomato slices,  sprig of parsley or rosemary for garnish

Heat olive oil and mashed anchovy in a saute pan.  Stir to distribute the anchovy all around.  Prepare a breading station with the eggs and bread crumbs.  On each of four slices of bread distribute the sliced mozzarella on top.  Cover with the remaining bread slices.   Dip the sandwiches in the egg taking care to coat all around.  Transfer to the bread crumbs and dredge.   If saute pan is big enough place two sandwiches in the pan and cook each side on medium high heat until browned.  Repeat with the other two sandwiches.  When all sandwiches are done add freshly ground black pepper to each then slice diagonally.  Add the garnish and serve hot.  Say,  I wonder if a dusting of Pecorino Romano cheese on top would take this dish up yet another level???  Just thinking out loud.

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Quiche Lorraine (or is it Alsacienne?)

Think of an Italian frittata in a pie shell and you get Quiche Lorraine. Well,  maybe not exactly,  but close enough.  Regardless,  the classic French dish,  whether served as an appetizer or main course  is about as simple as can be and takes not much more than 30 minutes to prepare,  even if you make your own pie shell rather than using a store-bought frozen one.

Apparently the original version contained no cheese or onion,  just egg,  creme fraiche and ‘lardons’ or smoked country bacon cut into short strips.  Lorraine’s neighbors down the road in Alsace France came up with the idea of adding onion.  Over the years Gruyere and/or Emmenthaler cheese and miscellaneous vegetables joined the party as other French regions picked up on the dish.  As for me,  I like to call my recipe “Quiche Alsacienne Embellee”  (embellished)  since it has onions and some of the other veggie add-ons now prevalent in modern quiche recipes,  plus one ingredient that isn’t.

It starts with the time honored recipe for Quiche Lorraine found in Anne Willens’ The Country Cooking of France, p. 46.  According to my good friend Anne (we never met) creme fraiche is an important requirement but may be tough to locate.  Best bets are Trader Joe and Wegmans.  You can also make it yourself as long as you’re wearing your black beret and Fleur De Lis apron when you do it.  Final note,  frozen puff pastry is a common alternative to a regular pie crust and actually seems to be preferred by many French chefs.

For 6 persons:

  • 1 pie shell or puff pastry sheet defrosted and rolled to a 12 inch diameter circle
  • 1 tbsp. butter
  • ½ lb. thick sliced bacon cut into short thin strips (I actually use lean  country ham rather than bacon)
  • 3 eggs lightly beaten
  • 1 cup creme fraiche (thin out with some heavy cream if too thick)
  • 1 medium red or white onion thinly sliced
  • 1 small red bell pepper julienned
  • 1 cup broccoli florets separated into small pieces
  • 1 cup Emmentaler, Gruyere or imported Swiss Cheese grated (mix ’em up why don’t you)
  • 1 cup Fontina cheese grated (my departure from the French crowd)
  • 1 pinch nutmeg
  • olive oil for saute
  • salt & pepper

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Blind bake the pie or puff pastry crust in a 9 ½ inch pie pan for about 15 minutes. Meanwhile cook the onions and bell pepper with olive oil in a saute pan at medium heat until well softened,  about 10-12 minutes.  Add ½ teaspoon of salt during cooking.  Set aside.  Cook the broccoli florets in salted water until done.  Drain.  Cook the bacon ‘lardons’ in the butter until lightly browned.  Drain off the fat and pat dry with a paper towel.  In a large bowl mix the eggs and creme fraiche.  Add the onion,  red pepper,  broccoli,  cheeses,  salt,  pepper and nutmeg and stir.  If the mixture doesn’t look like quite enough to fill the pie shell add more beaten egg  (I use Eggbeaters instead to keep the cholesterol count down,  not that it isn’t in the stratosphere already).  If more than enough set the excess aside and make a frittata omelette with it for a great snack while you’re waiting for the quiche to finish up in the oven.  Pour a glass of Pinot Grigio to go with it.

Pour the mixture into the pie shell and bake in the oven for about 40 minutes or until the mixture has puffed up and is well browned on top.  You can check for doneness with the old stab-the-cake-with-a-knife trick,  but I hate to ruin the looks of the nicely browned top.

Let the quiche cool down slightly before serving.  Sing a chorus of “Frere Jacques” then go ahead and serve it up.

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Roman Artichokes

In all my years I don’t remember ever seeing artichokes appearing as a separate line item on U.S. restaurant menus, not even any of the Italian establishments I have visited.  They do show up in the unappealing commercially bottled or canned form as an ingredient on pizzas or salads.  The reason for this,  I’m guessing,  lies in the steps required to prepare fresh artichokes for cooking.  In particular,  it’s the infernal choke buried in the center that causes grief.  Nonetheless “Carciofi alla Romana” are as prevalent among Roman restaurant appetizers as shrimp cocktail or chicken wings in the U.S.

If you are motivated to run the gauntlet,  serving up a first course of Roman artichokes will render your dinner party memorable if nothing else.  If you execute the steps correctly (and I’m not claiming that I do) you can skip cooking school altogether.  Fresh artichokes are character builders.

This recipe does not follow the traditional Roman protocol mainly because the Romans use mint as a flavoring accent,  an herb I have never learned to appreciate.  My version harks back to the delectable steamed artichokes served up by my late wife (who was of Polish extraction mind you),  mother and grandmother,  all of whose versions have much in common with the Roman original,  minus the mint.

I also don’t perform the extensive trimming of the leaves down to the point where half the artichoke is tossed in the trash,  leaving only the tender center intact for steaming.  I don’t do that.  I do some trimming,  but leave about 70 percent of the artichoke intact.   The big outer leaves contain delicious pulp at their base which can be extracted by scraping the leaf over your bottom teeth.  I also don’t remove the choke until after cooking,  which is much easier to accomplish.

So for an exercise in character-building here is what to do:

For 4 persons

  • 4 medium-size globe artichokes (the basketball-sized versions found in many stores don’t work)
  • 1/2 cup olive oil
  • 1/2 cup white wine vinegar (might try rice wine or champagne vinegar for less of an acid flavor)
  • 1 tbsp. Dijon mustard
  • 1 can anchovy filets drained
  • 1 tbsp. fresh chopped flat leaf parsley
  • 1 tbsp. fresh chopped mint (if you are a fan and insist on doing what the Romans do)
  • 1/2 cup bread crumbs
  • salt & pepper to taste

Using a steamer insert and a large stockpot,  bring about 4 cups of water to a boil.  Meanwhile with a serrated bread knife cut off the top third of each artichoke.  Remove the bottom two or three layers of leaves and with a sharp paring knife trim off the end and tough outer skin of the stem.  The recommended step of placing each artichoke in acidulated water while this is going on has never proved effective for me so skip it.  Just try to work as fast as you can in a race against the browning of the exposed artichoke surfaces.

Steam the artichokes under cover for about 35 minutes or until a skewer passes through the center with little resistance.  Cooking time is dependent on size.  Overcooking slightly is preferable to undercooking.

While artichokes are steaming place olive oil,  vinegar,  anchovies,  mustard,  pepper,  parsley and mint (if your including it) into a blender.  Blend until smooth.  Remove from blender and place in a bowl.  Add bread crumbs,  salt to taste and mix well.

When artichokes are done carefully cut each one lengthwise.  With a paring knife make an incision all around the base of the choke and then coax it out with a teaspoon being sure to remove not only the fine bristles but also the surrounding layer of inner leaves with the purple tips.  Definitely don’t want to bite into those thorny leaves.  Serve two halves on a plate and spread a tablespoon or so of anchovy dressing over each half.  I usually make enough dressing to fill a small finger bowl next to each place setting so that the outer leaves can be dipped in it for the scraping ritual.

Another option is to remove the tough outer leaves before serving,  but set them aside in case anyone wants to scrape.