Apple Cake and The Adventures of Robin Hood

It's interesting how days unfold. Yesterday, Boston was gripped with the edge of Hurricane Sandy, spewing torrents of wind. Rain rattled like a shower of marbles against my windows. The lights flickered on and off ominously. However, today the sky shines with a light blue hue and sunlight dapples the piles of brown and orange leaves dotting the grass. Only the wet twigs strewn across the road and a fallen tree down my street bear witness to yesterday's calamitous weather. The Earth is renewing itself, healing its wounds, ready to begin again. It is a lesson we all can learn.

September was a hectic month for me. I began graduate school, and it took me awhile to become accustomed to academic rhythms yet again. Happiness swells inside me whenever I engage in a class discussion, realizing how much I missed talking about history and sharing viewpoints with others. I also started a column for an Italian-American newspaper entitled about the holidays, customs, and folklore of Italy, and I have found this more rewarding than anything I have ever done. However, I found myself itching to get back to baking, to those quiet nights spent in the kitchen measuring ingredients and watching them transform, as if by magic, into a delectable treat in the oven. So once October began, I vowed to dive into baking and blogging again.

What better time to start baking than late October, when the dark nights settle into a quiet stillness and the kitchen light bathes the room in a cozy, homey glow. This is the time of cinnamon and apples, pumpkin and ginger, pears and nutmeg, all rich scents and tastes that tap into the very essence of autumn. Writing this now on the day before Halloween, I look outside at the yellow leaves blowing against a tranquil sky and can practically feel ancient souls and memories surrounding me. In honor of the sense of history fall inspires, the medieval origin of Halloween and my new-found affection for the television show Game of Thrones, the movie I chose for this blog entry is The Adventures of Robin Hood. Here are Dan's thoughts.

The Adventures of Robin Hood

Adding the finishing touches to his Robin Hood, Kevin Costner made some caustic remarks about Michael Curtiz’s The Adventures of Robin Hood and vowed to improve upon the accuracy and the spectacle. His glum film did neither and The Adventures of Robin Hood remains the ultimate swashbuckling classic. Striving for accuracy in a Robin Hood movie is a dubious venture anyway. As with King Arthur, so much of what is known about the Sherwood Forest outlaw exists in a no man’s land of history and legend.

Given the futility of presenting a purely historical, the measure of a Robin Hood movie is the sheer joy and thrills. The Adventures of Robin Hood delivers that in spades, feeling fresh each time Errol Flynn, in the green tights that immortalized him, welcomes us to Sherwood.  It’s a beautiful, lush, movie and Warner Bros. knew it from the start.  They splurged on this one and the studio’s spare-no-expense approach in recreating Sherwood in California and with the lush Technicolor. Robin Hood and his Merry Men swing by and fight the tyrannical Prince John’s (Claude Rains) minion Sir Guy of Gisbourne (Basil Rathbone), in the sword fight to start and end all sword fights, creating a magnificent splash of colors. 

Errol Flynn is the ideal outlaw, charming enough for Maid Marion (Olivia de Havilland, taking our breath away) and agile enough to evade capture. It’s a thrill ride before the concept of thrill rides at the movies became synonymous with CGI. Flynn may have taken the swashbuckler thrown from Douglas Fairbanks, but in The Adventures of Robin Hood he makes it his own.  And so it has stayed, Flynn remains the ultimate Robin Hood stunning us with feats that not even the wizards behind the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise could duplicate with all their computer and digital slickness. 

See The Adventures of Robin Hood for its beauty, sheer joy, and for the role that forever cemented Errol Flynn as a man of flight. 

Thanks, Dan! And now for the recipe...

Oh, wow. This recipe. I knew I wanted to make something with apples for Robin Hood ever since I read a medieval recipe for an apple galette. I settled for a cake, however, but I never expected to make a cake this good. Speaking completely without hyperbole, this is the best apple cake I have ever tried. It is soft, silky, and hits the right balance between sweetness and spice. The butterscotch sauce on top adds a light yet decadent surprise. This recipe was a contest winner at Taste of Home magazine, submitted by a reader named Debi Benson. It's no contest, I'll be making this one again.

Apple Cake

From Taste of Home, by Debi Benson

Serves 12-14

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• 2 cups sugar
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
• 2 eggs
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 tsp ground nutmeg
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 6 cups tart apples, peeled and chopped into small square chunks

For butterscotch sauce:

• 1/2 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/4 cup butter, cubed
• 1/2 cup whipping cream

1) In a large bowl, cream butter, sugar and vanilla. The mixture will appear crumbly. Add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. In a small bowl, combine flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt and baking soda. Gradually add the flour mixture to the butter mixture and mix well--the batter will be stiff. Fold in apples until well combined.

2) Spread batter into a greased 13- by 9-in baking dish. Bake at 350 degrees Fahrenheit for 40-45 minutes until lightly browned on top or until it springs back lightly when gently touched. Let cool for 30 minutes before serving.

3) For sauce: Combine brown sugar and butter in a small saucepan. Cook over medium heat until butter melts. Gradually add whipping cream. Stirring constantly, bring to a slow boil over medium heat. Remove from heat. Drizzle on top of cake slices when serving.

Next Time: I'm thinking All Quiet on the Western Front, not sure about the recipe

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!