October Love!

Wow, what an interesting month this is turning out to be. I'm deeply involved in my grad school class, I started a new column for a Boston newspaper, and now a hurricane is expected to hit my area tomorrow! And on top of all that, I am filled with the excitement of the approaching Halloween--I just hope it isn't a wash-out!

I'm going to try to post the recipe for the Apple Cake in the next few days. Here's hoping that I'll be able to.

In the meantime, have a spooky, wonderful, safe Halloween!

Mixed-Berry Strata and Superhero Movies

August has always been one of my favorite months because it crackles vibrantly with the excitement of a changing season. Remnants of the past summer still permeate through the air: stagnant days when the temperature lingers above 90 degrees, children hawking lemonade on street corners, sunny songs blaring out of car radios, songs which will fade from memory like a worn pair of jeans once the first leaf turns gold. Tucked into all those vernal pleasures are evanescent hints of the fall to come, vying for my attention as they giggle and flit behind trees. I felt autumn in the smoothness of bread dough as I kneaded it under my hands to make a focaccia for Lammas, in the way dusty orange buds drifted off the branches of a gnarled tree in front of my grandmother's house, in the clouds that streaked the full moon in a sky darkening earlier each day. These changes filled me with joy. Some people equate autumn with sadness, but for me it was always a season where I could feel the rhythms of the Earth's cycle changing beneath my feet.

This August, though, it was hard to muster the same anticipation that accompanied me other years. First of all, a serious illness visited my family. Then, I encountered a situation at work where I felt as if I had been taken advantage of and exploited. This last piece of news especially battered my already vulnerable soul. The memories of the past two years in which I had devoted myself to the workplace and made an unwavering commitment to its students tumbled inside me in jumbled expressions of shock and incredulity. My first emotion was an anger so jagged and sharp it reminded me of a crude dagger, piercing my inside every time I thought of how my hard work went unappreciated by the administration of the place. Later, this anger deflated into a hollow emptiness as my fond recollections of the workplace became tainted and my future smudged into a fuzzy mess as I debated demanding more respect from these administrators or silently remaining at work there in order to support my family and my upcoming marriage. I am still struggling to think of this place without any bitterness, and I hope that this bitterness will evaporate enough in the coming weeks so that when I go back to work I can focus on those who matter the most: my students.

One day about a week after this news, I was inside a Marshall's with my mother when I saw a shelf of Halloween decorations. Since Halloween is still two months away, the shelf barely reached around a whole wall, but it was still full of sparkly iron outlines of black cats, soft witch dolls clad in gingham rags, burnt orange ceramic pumpkins, and wooden "Welcome" signs emblazoned with drawings of blowing leaves. As I glanced at these decorations, that familiar excitement I usually felt as summer turns to fall returned, spreading inside me like warm coals. No matter how disappointing things may seem, this autumn will still be laden with good food to bake and wonderful holidays to celebrate with my loved ones. And at this transitional stage, I couldn't deny the joys of summer either, like berry desserts and superheroes streaking across the big screen. So I decided to make a Mixed Berry Strata from my favorite chef, Giada De Laurentiis, and couple it with Dan's essays on superhero films. Good food and memories are my X-Men and Captain Americas, shining like a ray of hope no matter what life throws at me.

Dan's Superhero Essay

Almost from inception, superheroes have coincided with times of national anguish. The ones that have lasted long enough to become icons, transcending their early comic origins into movies, TV series, and collectibles, ask fundamental questions that touch every generation fighting its own demons.

Society has a need, not just a desire, for superheroes. It’s shortsighted, I think, to dismiss this need for caped crusaders as mere escapism offering easy answers to complex problems. It’s true that part of the exhilaration of watching Superman defeat evil lies in the fantastical impossibility of the situation. Why can’t life really work that way? But the good superhero arcs touch upon very real problems and have the ability to teach us more about the real world, if only because the real world was able to think of such a world as theirs.

Batman may be the most human of all, even when soaring in his dark pointy suit. It’s no coincidence he first appeared in print in 1939, the Depression still very much a reality for millions of Americans. Economic downturns create crime and the gangsters of the 1930s have not been forgotten. No city touched by Bonnie & Clyde or John Dillinger would refuse the presence of a masked vigilante. It’s precisely Batman’s dark nature, though, that makes him so accessible a hero. Like thousands of Americans fed up with fedora wearing hoods, Batman grew impatient with law enforcement. It was now time to take matters into his own hands. The irony is, of course, that Batman himself works outside the law and in apprehending criminals, only breaks the law further.

By contrast, Spider-Man connects more strongly with a specific demographic. After all, Spidey’s human self is none other than Peter Parker, one of any lonely misunderstood high school boys. In part, Spider-Man has endured because his story would be the fulfillment of the wish of any teenager: by a freak chance (like being bitten by a spider), gain popularity, impress the pretty girl you were always too awkward to approach, and look pretty darn cool.

If Batman was a product of a nation down on the economic slumps, Iron Man fills a void for a new generation facing many of the same problems and a new threat from overseas. Tony Stark is the 1% on steroids, that’s for sure. But what really struck a human chord for me in the first Iron Man was his pivotal point.  While in Afghanistan introducing the troops to new technology, he is captured and held prisoner in a remote cave. There he begins building with scrap metal, giving birth to his McDonald’s colored alter ego. The moment Stark becomes Iron Man his wealth and financial power becomes used for the common good. His transformation into Iron Man is, then, not only a physical one, but a spiritual one as well. He is useful now to a nation that badly needs him.

The current tradition of superhero movies for the summer started with Spider-Man in 2002. Sure, the movie was in production before the attacks of September 11^th, but its release during a time of national healing undoubtedly helped it resonate stronger. The following years brought us more fear with the war in Iraq and the recession of 2008. Sure enough, Batman and Iron Man became the buzz in movies. There is then one promise of superhero movies that becomes true even in the real world. They are there when we need them. 

Thanks, Dan. As for me, I am counting down until September 25th so I can get my hands on a The Avengers DVD!

This berry strata is so good. It comes from Giada's Everyday Italian show, and it tastes like a creamy bread pudding. The ricotta adds extra decadence. Its red, white, and blue color scheme can remind you of any superhero, from Superman to Captain America. Giada never fails me, and this is yet another recipe I consider a keeper!

Mixed-Berry Strata

Adapted from Everyday Italian 

Ingredients:

• 2 Tbsp. butter
• 3 Tbsp. honey
• 4 large eggs
• 1/2 cup ricotta (use low-fat for less calories)
• 3 Tbsp. sugar
• 1 cup milk (use skim for less calories)
• 1/4 cup orange juice
• 4 slices of day-old French bread, torn into about 4 cups of small-to-medium-sized pieces 
• 1 10-oz bag frozen mixed berries, thawed and drained

1) Melt butter in microwave. Add honey to the melted butter, and stir to combine.

2) In a large bowl, combine the eggs, ricotta and sugar. Use a fork, beat the eggs and combine with mixture. Add the milk, orange juice, butter-and-honey mixture, and bread. Stir to combine. Gently fold in the berries.

3) Place the ingredients in a 10-in. round baking dish. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 2 hours.

4) Preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Bake until the strata is golden on top and cooked through, about 40 minutes. Let stand for 5 minutes to cool before serving. Use a spoon to serve it in messy, yummy heaps.

Next Week: I'm currently catching up on the awesome Game of Thrones TV show, so I want to do something with a medieval theme. I'm definitely thinking of The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938 version with Errol Flynn) as the movie, and an apple pie or cake for the dessert!

Busy Summer!

So I had planned to make a delicious Berry Strata (also from Giada De Laurentiis) this month, along with an essay Dan wrote on superhero films. But alas, July has been a very busy month for both negative and positive reasons. Don't worry, though, I plan to have the Berry Strata and the superhero essay up and running next month.

To all the foodies out there: my fiance and I just returned from a three-day trip to Rockland, Maine, and let me tell you that that beautiful town is food heaven! While there, I had potato-ricotta gnocchi, the best veggie burger I've ever had (served with pesto, arugula, mozzarella, and caramelized onions), crispy clam cakes, homemade banana-stuffed French toast at the Berry Manor Inn, and a strawberry-rhubarb pie I could not stop eating. Definitely check this place out!

Italian Orange-Chocolate Cheesecake Tarts and The Godfather

In the world of cooking, there are some recipes that possess that rare quality of instant legacy. These are the recipes that, from the first taste, quickly establish themselves in your mind as something really, truly special. You know that these are the recipes that will grow well-worn and yellowed in makeshift cookbooks, that will be requested by eager-eyed relatives at parties, and that will be passed down to future generations. I know a few recipes like that: my future father-in-law's chocolate panna cotta. My grandmother's Christmas struffoli. My mother's potato croquettes. And now I have another recipe to add to that list. From the moment I tried these Italian chocolate-orange ricotta cheesecakes from Giada De Laurentiis, I knew--and as did everyone else at the Midsummer party where I served them--that they would be instantly memorialized.

The same thing happens with movies. There are certain films that, at some point while you are watching them, click in your mind as a masterpiece. For me, one of those films was the tragic, frightening, and mournfully beautiful The Godfather, made by Francis Ford Coppola. This movie, in my opinion, is the closest thing American cinema has achieved to the great works of Shakespeare, with its subtle drama and crackling outbursts of violence and family strife, offset by moments of elegiacal solitude. As an Italian-American myself, I would like to say that this film does not take a jaundiced eye at Italian culture the way that other gangster movies and dim-witted reality shows do. Instead, The Godfather provides an honest look at a criminal subculture that did exist, while reminding viewers that it was, in fact, a subculture and not indicative of Italian-Americans as a whole. First of all, with all of its brilliant symbolism of shuttered windows and doors, The Godfather demonstrates that its Corleone family is closed off from the outside world. Finally, because the characterizations are so sublime and realized, the film never feels exploitative. Let's take a look at Dan's thoughts.

The Godfather


What more can be said about The Godfather, Coppola’s masterpiece which is arguably not only the greatest American film, but a testament to American art in an even broader spectrum? What about by confirming that it is, indeed, a most exciting crime saga, charting the rise and fall of a criminal empire through the businesses of the Corleone family?

But its epic greatness runs deeper. The Godfather is, in many ways, the ultimate immigrant saga that ends, as did countless immigrant sagas of both real and fictional origins, in tragedy. Sure we see the glamour and the fruits of criminal life at the Corleone home, an estate of lush patios, jovial feasts, and good cooking. But by the time the first movie is over, Don Corleone (Marlon Brando in the pinnacle role of an already legendary career) has lost his loyal but hotwired boy Sonny (James Caan), been shot and almost killed while carrying oranges from the grocer, and seen his favorite son Michael (Al Pacino) begin to follow his path into a life that can only lead to more death. Suspense is killer in The Godfather, but at its core is a story of sadness.

Ah, but Francis Ford Coppola’s brilliance is in the details. There is a reason that, as much as certain organizations have denounced aspects of the film, the movie has a place of honor in every Italian-American household. It knows Sicilian culture to the smallest of nuances; its mannerisms, dress codes, and ways of celebration. It’s a movie about Italians that truly understands Italians. This makes Brando’s and Caan’s embodiments of Old Country hooligans all the more astounding.

True to the promise of the best epics, The Godfather is a beautiful film. Tinted in sepia that takes us back to the summer of 1945, The Godfather is the ultimate triumph of production values. From the musical score to the sets, Coppola takes us into another world and traps us into its dark offices and corners of violence.

Required reading lists have long been a staple of scholarly curriculum. Movies, a much newer art, are slowly rising to the level of books and the road ahead is long. Indeed, such a smaller percentage of movies can be called art in good faith. But some of us refuse to give up hope that film, at least at its best, will someday be esteemed with the great arts and be considered worthy of a standardized required viewing list. When, and that day may never come, The Godfather is an undisputed mandated viewing title for cinema literacy.

Thanks, Dan! And I too hope for the day when the general public will view film as being just as worthy of serious discussion as books. For some reason there seems to be this hierarchy of texts. I think film texts and book texts BOTH offer mesmerizing stories and discussion points.

Now, on to great recipes that deserve recognition. As I said before, I served these tarts at a St. John's Day/Midsummer party my family had because their round shape and sunny color reminded me of the Summer Solstice. They were so delicious, with their creamy and tart texture, and everyone fell in love with them. They came from Giada De Laurentiis, one of my all-time favorite chefs. I am addicted to her shows Everyday Italian and Giada at Home. Try these as soon as possible. You'll be doing yourself a favor.

    

Italian Orange-Chocolate Cheesecake Tarts

Adapted from Giada De Laurentiis's Everyday Italian

Ingredients:

• 2/3 cup chocolate wafers, finely crushed (I used Nabisco's Famous Chocolate Wafers)
• 4 Tbsp butter, melted
• 1/2 cup part-skim ricotta cheese
• 4 oz. fat-free or low-fat cream cheese
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 orange, zested
• 2 eggs
• Extra butter for greasing

1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Lightly grease the cups of a mini-muffin with the extra butter.

2) Combine the crushed chocolate wafers and the melted butter. Place a tightly packed teaspoon of the mixture into each cup in the mini-muffin tin and press down firmly.

3) In a blender or food processor, combine the ricotta cheese, cream cheese, sugar, orange zest, and eggs. Blend until smooth. Fill prepared mini-muffins cups with 1 1/2 tablespoons of the cheesecake mixture. Place the muffin tin in a baking dish and pour enough hot water in the baking dish to come halfway up the sides of the muffin tin. Bake for 25 minutes. 

4) Transfer the muffin tin to a wire rack and let cool for 30 minutes. Refrigerate for 15 minutes. Use a small knife to gently pop the cheesecake tarts out of the cups. Serve and enjoy! (Makes about 14 tarts)

Next Time: Something superhero related! 

Lemon Custard Squares and Singin in the Rain

Today I bring you one of my favorite recipes and one of my favorite movies. Lemon custard squares and Singin' in the Rain go together like peanut butter and jelly, or summer and superhero movies.

Ah, yes...summer. It has arrived here in Boston. We had a rainy start to May, but the Memorial Day weekend was gorgeous. The scent of flowers permeates the air, sweet and antique. My Old Navy flip-flops are back on (lamentably, I lost my black pair). Summer hear means flocking to the air-conditioned theater to watch The Avengers, sprinkling mochi on top of my peach Pinkberry, and listening to the far-off beat of music from someone's barbecue. Of course, I also can't wait for day excursions to maritime communities, like up in Maine or right here in Massachusetts. On Memorial Day, I went to Nantasket Beach with my fiance, where I walked in the surf until the high tide bubbled up around my legs.

The Atlantic Ocean as seen from Gloucester, MA

Summer also means wonderful food to me. Though I am a vegetarian, I still get a kick out of barbecues. A grilled veggie burger tastes just as good--seriously!--on a bun slathered with lettuce, tomato, cheese, and mustard (I know I'm in the minority here, but I actually hate ketchup). Corn on the cob with scallion butter is a must-have, and in terms of salads, my mom made a delicious panzanella last year. A panzanella is a Tuscan salad of tomatoes, garlic, basil, and pieces of crusty, rustic bread...so different and delicious. As for desserts, anything small, quick and fruity will do for the summer, like the Lemon Custard Squares.

Harbor, still in Gloucester

I chose Singin' in the Rain as the movie for this month because it inspires such joy, just like summer. The squares are yellow like Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds's raincoats and so light and airy, just like the tone of the overall film. Here are Dan's thoughts:

Singin' in the Rain

If the movies have created a cure for the blues it is in the Musical, where all of life’s problems are solved by song and dance. That’s not to say that all musicals are or have to be unequivocally happy, but Singin’ in the Rain is the most joyous and the best one of all. It can lift the most forlorn of moods, because at its heart it is about the power of optimism. 

The docks at Boothbay Harbor, Maine

Optimism is what saves the careers of Don Lockwood (Gene Kelly) a silent star threatened by the coming of the talkies. It makes the career of Kathy Selden (Debbie Reynolds), a dancing girl with a voice made for the movies. Ultimately, it is a lack of optimism in progress more than a shrill voice that ruins the career of Lena Lamont (Jean Hagen delivering a plum performance). 

Singin’ in the Rain is the most infallible of musicals because it is so confident in the ability of its tunes. I’ve yet to see a musical sure enough of itself to seek the redeeming qualities of rain. “Singin’ in the Rain” was not written for this movie, but would anyone still remember it if Gene Kelly had not sung it while splashing through puddles and twirling around light poles? It’s the heart of the movie because it speaks of its essence, making lemonade out of lemons. 

Boothbay Harbor, Maine

For my money, though, the most effective number is “Moses Supposes”. It never fails on me, and I can’t recall a time I’ve sat through it without getting up and joining Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor in cavorting around the speech therapists office. The seamless energy of it all is irresistible.

 Gene Kelly would go on to make a number of musicals with director Stanley Donen and many of them remain gorgeous festivities. But I’ll be damned if ever a musical will ever “make ‘em laugh” as much as Singin’ in the Rain. 

Thanks, Dan! And for lovers of Singin' in the Rain, I also recommend The Artist, last year's Oscar winner also about the transition from silent films to talkies.

Anyways, these lemon squares are so, so good. Unfortunately I don't have pictures of them because the camera ran out of batteries just as I was about to snap a shot. But don't let the absence of pictures stop you! These are THE BEST lemon squares I've ever tried. Rather than sugary translucent yellow glop on top, these lemon squares have a custard-like component, soft, billowy, eggy, with a noticeable but subtle trace of yellow. The base is all homemade too, a crumbly butter cookie batter. These squares come from Baking: A Commensense Guide, a book I wholeheartedly trust.

Lemon Custard Squares

Adapted from Baking: A Commensense Guide

Ingredients:

• 4 1/2 oz. unsalted butter
• 1/3 cup superfine sugar
• 1 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
• Confectioners' sugar for dusting

Topping:

• 4 eggs, lightly beaten
• 1 cup superfine sugar
• 1/4 cup lemon juice
• 1 tsp. finely grated lemon zest
• 1/4 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 tsp. baking powder

1) Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Lightly grease an 8 x 12 in shallow baking tin and line with parchment paper, leaving the paper hanging over two opposite sides.

2) Cream butter and superfine sugar with electric beaters until pale and fluffy. Fold in flour, then use your hands to moisten the flour and make the mixture crumbly. Press mixture evenly into the tin. Bake for 20 minutes, or until golden. Let cool.

3) For the topping: Beat eggs and sugar with electric beaters for 2 minutes, or until light and fluffy. Stir in the lemon juice and zest. Sift flour and baking powder together and gradually whisk into egg mixture. Pour onto the base.

4) Bake for 25 minutes, or until just golden. Let cool. Dust with confectioner's sugar before serving.

Next week: I'm thinking The Godfather, not sure on the recipe

Spring and Vacations

Hey everyone!

Dan has been on vacation this month; hence, no post. Meanwhile I've been busy with a new job and a new project of collecting old recipes for a cookbook. However, I did decide what movie to review and what recipe I want to make for the next post: Singin in the Rain (one of my favorites!) and delicious Lemon Custard Bars.

Wishing everyone a magical May Day!

The Quiet Man and Irish Soda Bread

We really do have to give old weather sayings and folklore their due. Nearly everyone has heard the expression that March comes in like a lion and goes out a lamb. Actually, what most people don't realize is that the expression is conditional: if March comes in like a lion, it will go out like a lamb. If, however, it comes in like a lamb, it will go out like a lion. That has certainly been true this year in Boston.

Yummy Irish Soda Bread batter

March blew in gently, all soft breezes and dandelion-scented air. Towards the middle of the month, the temperatures hit seventy and eighty degrees. I walked around in my capris and sandals. I opened windows and admired the dappled sunlight streaking across my hardwood floors. It was too good to last, though. Boston has been stuck in a cold spell the past week, and some snow is even predicted for tomorrow, the last day of March. It seems as if March is exiting more like a polar bear than a lion.

Yummy Irish Soda Bread, front view

However, the nice thing about the month of March is that I know it is spring, no matter how cold it is. The crocuses and dandelions are blooming in my yard. Beautiful robins hop around the grass, celebrating the new life around them. Everything is green, green, green...including one of my favorite holidays, St. Patrick's Day. I celebrated St. Patrick's Day this year just the way I like it, surrounded by good food and family. I honestly don't understand people who want to get completely drunk on St. Patrick's Day. I think that's demeaning to Irish culture and a waste of an opportunity to observe such a lively spring holiday. This St. Patrick's Day, surrounded by my family and my fiance, I danced to The Pogues, laughed at my dad's funny green hat, devoured my mom's potato croquettes, and made my signature Grasshopper Pie. Moreover, I tried a great new recipe for a simply delicious Irish Soda Bread.

Yummy Irish Soda Bread slice

The movie I picked for today was The Quiet Man, but Dan hasn't had a chance to write the thought piece for that. And I haven't had a chance to watch it. I know, I know, shocker, but I've never seen The Quiet Man. I know it's directed by John Ford and it stars the iconic John Wayne. I've seen many of their collaborations in my Western film classes and elsewhere. I'm very curious to watch this film because I heard that it offers a lot of talking points. It is immensely popular around here during St. Patrick's Day, and some hold it up as a celebration of Irish-America and a love letter to the Old Country. However, others say that it enforces outdated stereotypes of a poor and rural country inhabited solely by "quirky" characters. As I said, I haven't seen the film, but I am excited to view it and better understand both sides of the argument.

Yummy Irish Soda Bread coming at you!!!

There's no argument, though, about this delicious soda bread. I adapted it from a Taste of Home magazine...I love that magazine to pieces; it never steers me wrong. What attracted me to this particular recipe was the fact that it contained sour cream, which I knew would give the bread a soft, creamy texture. My mother and I both hate foods that have really dry textures, so I decided that this was the bread for me. I also liked the addition of the caraway seeds. I wasn't too familiar with them, but they added the perfect hint of spice and tang to the bread. They reminded me of the fennel seeds my Nonna uses in her taralli, which are these savory, hard Italian pretzel-like treats. (I would like to take this opportunity to remind everyone that two days after St. Patrick's Day is St. Joseph's Day, a celebration of Italian-American culture. The pastries of the day are zeppole, or Italian donuts filled with cream. Yum!)

Yummy Irish Soda Bread
Adapted from Kerry Barnett-Amundsen's Taste of Home recipe
Ingredients:

• 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 2 Tbsp caraway seeds
• 2 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 2 eggs
• 2 cups (16 oz) fat-free sour cream
• 3/4 cup raisins

1) Combine flour, caraway seeds, baking powder, salt, and baking soda in a large bowl. In a small bowl, whisk the eggs and the sour cream. Stir the egg mixture into the flour mixture until it is just moistened. Fold in raisins.

2) Spoon batter into a greased 9-in springform pan. Bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for 40-45 minutes or until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool on a wire rack for ten minutes. Remove the sides of the pan to release bread. Cut into wedges, serve warm.

Next time: No clue. Any suggestions? I welcome all ideas. I only ask two things: (1) I cook on a budget, so no outlandish or expensive ingredients that would be hard for the average cook to obtain (2) I like to cook fresh and in season...if you suggest a pumpkin dessert, I will wait until October or November to make it because pumpkin is not in season now. By all means suggest any dessert you like, but know that you might have to wait awhile to see it! 

Happy birthday, Nonna! Felice compleanno!