A no great shakes, no brainer goodie: corn fritters

November 18th

Everyone craves something...we all have secret loves of food. In Italy, my son, Nico, grew up on Nutella, the Italian chocolate-hazelnut spread that comes in jars similar to peanut butter, and is now sold at Publix for $3.95. He grew up healthy, skinny and into a 6’3” frame—tasting everything and anything—including a fish eye, and rabbit’s brains.

Among other things he loves, are home-made corn fritters. I made corn on the cob the other night, and when I have a few cobs left over—corn on them, naturally—I pop them in a zip lock baggie and into the fridge for later on in the week, (sometimes I even freeze them and they’re great!) which worked out perfectly since Nico stayed unexpectedly for dinner after his plans disintegrated.

Here's what I did. I cut the corn off two tender medium cobs, put the corn in a mini blender with 3/4 cup of flour (complete balderdash and a lie! I did it by eye), a splash of milk, two eggs, and instead of sugar, used 4-5 packets of Splenda, as I don't want to be accused of anything “untoward,” since my husband has diabetes. Add two teaspoons of baking powder, two teaspoons of pure vanilla (never imitation …puleeese!).

Now here’s the tricky part—I always have on hand fennel seeds. Are they in your seasoning rack or pantry closet? If not, you might want to keep them on hand from now on. I put about one generous—that is heaping to over-flowing--tablespoon into a Teflon fry pan and put the heat up high to toast them. When they perfumed my kitchen, I took them off the heat and squashed the living daylights out of them with a potato masher—this does two things: it vents any anger you’ve been harboring, and it further releases the aroma of the seeds. Toss the seeds into the mixture.

You may add a pinch of salt. I did not do this last night, because the water in which I cooked the corn had already been lightly salted. When the mixture is completely blended, add a splash of brandy. I did this last night, sometimes I use Sambuca or Grand Marnier … but last night, I reached for Brandy, and it worked fine.

Heat corn oil (never olive!) to very hot in a lovely little fry pan with a study bottom that will hold at least 6 of these fritters. I usually do 6 at a time. Why? Because my mother-in-law, Amparito, did them this way, and I learned from her. No, she didn’t measure either.

Ingredients:

2 medium shucked corn cobs
¾ cup of flour
2 teaspoons of baking powder
1 tablespoon of toasted fennel seeds
a splash of milk
two eggs
two teaspoons of pure vanilla extract
a splash of Brandy


Makes 18 to 24 fritters, depending on your generosity or miserly hand.

P. S. Yes, you can also use canned corn—for shame! And frozen corn, in a pinch, if you have no fresh-frozen from your own little mitts.

Artichokes, anytime ... if you can find them!

Nov 16th Artichokes

I made this spring/summer dish (depending on if you can find fresh artichokes) and sent the recipe to Lynne Barrett via e-mail 4/15/06, Easter Saturday. But it’s autumn now, but since I found these delightful little artichokes in Publix I decided to make this dish, and because the chokes inside are smaller to deal with than the larger, not so tender, ones (that is to say, here in the States—in Italy, they’re fabulous, but then again, don’t I say that about everything Italian? But in this instance, of course, it happens to be true.)

PASTA AI CARCIOFI
Pasta with artichokes

I bought 2 dozen of the little baby artichokes ... these are the ones I used the hearts of to “put up” or conserve under oil ... the very ones you pay a small fortune for in an Italian deli. I did this usually in Italy in May at the end of the season. What work! I josh not. If you want the exact recipe, I'll be happy to send it along to you. Clue me. But truthfully, what’s the point? It’s much less work and in the long run cheaper to buy a jar in your local Italian deli, such as Bella Monte’s on Atlantic Blvd., Pompano Beach.

Anyway you cut off the tops of the artichokes, clean the steams but leave some middle part. Here the stems are very short—another absurdity—they are delicious, so why do the pickers and grocers cut them off? It’s like the zucchini flowers. I dare you to tell me what supermarket sells them in south Florida—or for that matter anywhere? You have to pick them, which means a drive to LA.

Continuing … you pare down the leaves to the whitish/yellowish ones—and quarter—and cut out the hairy choke. Toss these into a bowl with lotsa lemon and water—and perhaps a dash of white vinegar to keep them white, else they turn black in seconds before your eyes like food for baby vampires.

In a heavy saucepan—I use my mother's old iron one—lace the bottom with a generous spill of extra virgin olive oil, some sliced onion and minced garlic—I usually put the garlic through a press—and fling in the artichokes—turn up the heat high for about 10 minutes and season with salt, pepper, garlic powder and mint. (In Italy we use "mentuccia," which is found growing wild and is much stronger than regular mint. Douse with fresh squeezed lemon(at least a ½ glass, and a hit of water, perhaps another 1/2 a glass, and a goblet full to brimming of Pinot Grigio—I cook with whatever we're drinking! Chardonnay is nice, a little oakey, and so is Sauvignon Blanc, a little fruity—just make sure it’s white. Lower the heat.

Cover the pot with a brown paper bag cut to fit over the bottom ... I have no clue why—just do it, and then a tight lid cover. I always make them like this (perhaps they steam better), as I was taught that way 37 years ago by the Portiere--Domenica Centini, the door lady in my first apartment in Rome on Via Alberto Cadlolo 15.

One never forgets details like that and the fact that she had two fat cats that sunned themselves in the rose garden--we had roses even in December, even after the last cacchi (persimmons), a true gift from God before winter’s advent—it is as delectable as tropical fruit. I had two trees growing up from the downstairs neighbor’s garden in our apartment at Via Prisciano 1, and we never lacked for them—you pick them hard before the bird get them—the one s you can reach, naturally, and then you line up these orange globes on your windowsills, and watch the magic of nature as they turn deep in color and soft to touch. (Pardon, the digression).

Now lower the heat and cook for 1/2 hour to 45 minutes

Toss with pasta handfuls of fresh grated Parmigiano Reggiano!
P. S. If you like bay leaf--you can add one to the pot

Also carciofi like this may be added to fave and fresh garden peas for an insalata gardiniera~! Perfect in spring and for Easter. Season with oil, lemon, minced onion, mint. Salt and pepper to taste.

Last spring when I spoke to my friend Sandra in Milano, she was making baby goat and agretti, thick grass-like stringbeans, perhaps a skinny forerunner of actual stringbeans, and not found in these here parts, sorry to say. Also "puntarella" (found only in Rome!) a pointy salad—a total bitch to clean! served with garlic and anchovies to die for! (Ask Felipe if that's a lie)

Tomorrow I'll call my aunts in Sicily, which reminds me of my Mom’s stuffed artichokes.

Easy as pie—wash and cut of the tops, run a lemon all over the outer leaves, stuff the leaves with a mixture of seasoned breadcrumbs and grated cheese--parmigiano and or pecorino and baptize the whole thing with olive oil. Place the stuffed artichokes in a huge heavy pot in about an inch of water, lemon, and white wine, and a sprinkle of more oil. Turn the heat high for 10 minutes--when the water burbles--such a Brooklyn word! lower and cook on low heat for another 35. the leaves should be tender at the bottom ends, and stay put but want to fall off. Vai a capire!

Maybe I’ll call Sandra in Milano, and Pina in Rome just to see what they’re cooking ... how I miss Italy!!! Always around the holidays, it seems worse. (Even though they don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, I always made a turkey dinner and it was enjoyed. The sweet potatoes I used to buy at the market were white inside with a chestnutty flavor … scrumptious.

Blessing to all for Thanksgiving. We all have so much to be thankful for--I'm thankful for you for having read this blog to the end and your family will be thankful when you experiment with artichokes.

Shameful self-promotion!

Dimsum: Asia's Literary Journal
Nury Vittachi, ed Hong Kong International Literary Festival and Chameleon Press, Spring 2005

"Get Down on Your Duff and Read ...
Do you read? A simple question that elicits either nervous laughter or sneering indignation. The question is not one of literacy so much as one of culture. We all read. Anyone who graduated from high school or holds down a job reads. The question is whether or not we read for the sheer pleasure of it. " (bc Magazine)

Now in its tenth volume, Dimsum continues to attract authors from all walks of life. In all, 19 authors and 25 works are featured. Each author comes with their own introduction, and the work here is as rich and diverse as the backgrounds and experiences of the writers. The opening story, "I Have No Name of My Own" by Yu Hua is told through the eyes of a village idiot, and is eerily touching within its limited, simplistic language. Its simple lexis is juxtaposed with Thomas Keneally's "Sydney Experiment," a true exercise in the English language.

Set in China when foot binding was still common, "The Rain," an excerpt from the novel, The Secret Language of Women, by Nina Romano depicts an educated, forward-thinking woman's quest to abort her baby before her backward farmer of a husband discovers she's pregnant with their second child.

Poet Alvin Pang eloquently describes the hopes, dreams and fears of seven unrelated characters in SE7EN. On a lighter note, Hsu-Ming Teo's The Truth in Toilets is wonderfully accurate in its portrayal of a Chinese mother's embarrassing public toilet habits, while Mani Rao explores our deception of our heritages. A great anthology for discovering new talents or revisiting favourites, even if it's not all your cup of tea.

Available at:
http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_gw/103-7699410-1347855?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=dimsum

Dimsum Asia's Literary Journal, Spring 2005 by Thomas Keneally, Hua Yu, Nina Romano, and Nury Vittachi (Paperback - Feb 28, 2005)
Buy new: $14.00 25 Used & new from $9.55
Get it by Thursday, Nov 15 if you order in the next 7 hours and choose one-day shipping.
Eligible for FREE Super Saver Shipping.

Buy books for holiday presents!

Miami Herald Article & Book Fair Reading

Check out Linda Bladholm's article about me in yesterday's Miami Herald: "A Writer Finds Poetry in Italian Cooking"

Article in the Dade issue is a full page color spread in Tropical Life section:
http://www.miamiherald.com/living/food/story/298641.html

Also two of my recipes ... with measurements, no less!

Rose Petal Pasta:
http://www.miamiherald.com/1017/story/298640.html

Pizza Rustica:
http://www.miamiherald.com/1017/story/298005.html

And to anyone reading this blog: you are cordially invited to hear Nina Romano read from Cooking Lessons at the:

Miami Book Fair
Sunday, Nov 11th
at 10 am--Center Gallery
(Building 1, 3rd Floor Room 1365)

Leonard Nash will read with me from his wonderful short story collection,

You Can't Get There From Here

Don't miss it!

Congrats to Marie Lovas on her acceptance and scholarship to the Palm Beach Poetry Festival 2008!!! Marie will be in a seminar with Major Jackson.

It's Fall and my mind truns to frying ...

November 4, 2007

It’s Fall; just after Halloween, All Saints, All Souls, and my mind turns to frying …

Halloween is the Eve of All Saints, which is when all the dead are venerated. This is followed by All Souls Day. All Souls is the official Day of the Dead in Mexico, but the holiday is celebrated actually between October 31st to November 2nd by cleaning off the graves and having a party—bringing flowers and garlands of marigolds, food, and drink. I find this very interesting—a celebration of life, the continuance of life after death.

It’s much the same in Italy, when people go the cemetery to bring flowers to their departed loved ones. So I used the idea for a scene in my first novel, Lemon Blossoms, at the cemetery of Carini, Sicily, when the main character, Angelica, goes with her mother, Rosalia, to clean off the graves and bring flowers and the mother tells the daughter one of the family stories.

Speaking of things Italian, we went to see a wonderful Italian movie Manuale d'amore 2, directed by Giovanni Veronesi, with stars Carlo Verdone and Monica Bellucci—episodes and all very good.

Now here are two recipes for: caponata and eggplant parmigiana

But first … a huge pot of tomato sauce.

Tomato Sauce (the following is for 3.5 lbs—so double it if you are going to make both of the recipes below: caponata and eggplant parmigiana!)

5 tablespoons olive oil
5 whole garlic cloves
1 cup finely chopped onions
2 (28-ounce) (800-g) cans peeled Italian tomatoes
a bunch of fresh basil leaves
at least a teaspoon a salt—but taste
(My measurement is a tiny little dish full of salt which I just sprinkle on top—my hand knows how much and when to stop—that’s because it’s a second generation Italian hand and has been making this since I was 11 years old).

COOKING HINT:
Use Italian tomatoes because they're sweeter, contain less water—especially if they’re San Marzano! The best of the best! If you have to use American tomatoes, double the amount of chopped onions and add more olive oil, but I could be lying because I really don’t know and have never used American tomatoes! This is a plain lightly salted sauce, which can be used to finish other sauces, say for instance one that takes olives, capers and oregano … or fresh tuna, which I made the other night with anchovies, parsley, and pine nuts. Get it?

If you want to use this sauce for pasta. You’ll probably need to add 1/4 teaspoon of salt for each 2 cups, according to your taste.

Pour the olive oil into a huge saucepan (I used heavy aluminum when I cook on electric—and terracotta if I cook on gas. I use a “spaccafiamme” a flame splitter—basically a round wire-mesh screen that the flame passes through but allows it to burn more evenly and hit the bottom of your part!

Set on medium-high heat and cook the garlic and onion for 3-5 minutes—before it turns gold. Reduce the heat to a simmer and cook until the onions are soft but never brown, (I used to do this in my early cooking days—but too often I resented seeing the little brown bits floating in my sauce and ruining the presentation! Less than 9 minutes, stirring occasionally—I toss in white wine—usually ½ to 1 glass.

While the onions are cooking, put the tomatoes and their juices in a food processor or blender and process until smooth. However, I don’t do this—instead I use a whipper-upper that Braun makes, and I blend the tomatoes right in the can after I’ve removed most of the juice, by pouring it into the onions! Add this tomato purée—to the onion mixture, raise the heat to high and bring to almost a boil for 5 minutes. Reduce heat, add the basil and simmer for ½ half hr. stirring occasionally.

Fall frying …

And what better thing than eggplants! Here are two dishes to occupy you for a rainy day such as these two below: caponata and melanzana alla parmigiana (eggplant parmigiana)

Caponata ingredients:
Olive oil
Unpeeled Eggplant
Onions
Celery
Tomato sauce
Pitted black olives
Green olives with pimento (or without, but pitless!)
Raisins
Pine nuts
Parsley
Salt
Pepper
Garlic

For the Caponata: here’s what you do …

Make a large pot of tomato sauce—usually I do 6-7 lbs at least if I’m doing both of these dishes on the same day.

In Extra virgin olive oil fry: cut up chunks of eggplant, garlic, onions, hot pepper (if desired) celery, then add sugar, balsamic vinegar and wine--red or white. Let that burn off and then throw in tomato sauce, basil and lots of pitted black olives, green olives, raisins, pine nuts and capers.

Chill (best when left at least a day in the fridge) and then serve cold or at room temperature as antipasto--with crackers or thin sliced pieces of Italian bread. (Delish on bruschetta too!) This stays in the fridge at least 10 days to two weeks due to the preservative properties of the vinegar.

*

Eggplant Parmigiana:

Have on hand, a fresh sliced mozzarella—remember if you use buffala, it kicks out a lot of water…so squeeze some out in paper towels. And also about 4-6 cups of shredded mozzarella—anyone will do (Sargento, etc.). And about 3-4 cups of fresh grated parmigiano or you can use ½ shredded and ½ grated.

Wash and dry three large eggplants. I don't peel them. Slice them fairly thin lengthways and dip into flour—you may want to do an egg dip with a batter made from breadcrumb—I sometimes do this, depending on time constraints.

In a very large and deep heavy skillet, fry these in a mix of corn oil and a olive oil (3 to 1 ratio) Fry the pieces and set aside. If the oil gets funky and glunky—toss out and wipe down—do not the pan. Replace with fresh oil. When done, toss out the oil and begin with zucchini if you like the mix. I do it many times this way, because if the eggplant tends to be bitter, the zucchini sweetens the batch.

For this much eggplant I use about the same or perhaps one more large zucchini: washed, dried, sliced long. No dipping of this baby and don’t cut them too thin or they will fall apart.
Fry on high heat. Set aside.

Use a large squarish baker—rectangular Pyrex, or a deep Teflon baker, whatever you like.
Start to layer your goodies. First some sauce to cover the bottom, then the eggplant. A layer of mozzarella , then a healthy sprinkling of grated cheese to cover and then more sauce, then zucchini, etc. Fill to the top in alternating layers and cover with sauce and the rest of the cheeses. Bake in a hot over for 45 minutes. 10 minutes at 400 degrees, and then lower to 375 degrees to finish the baking.

Yes, if you’re in a hurry, you may cheat and cook it in the microwave … it’ll do in a pinch. About halfway through the cooking, you may have to throw out some of the liquid. Do not ask me how long—probably 20 minutes total. But the best eggplant is made the day before. I haven’t a clue why, but the resting in between the baking and the eating does something magical to the dish to enhance the flavors. This doesn’t mean you can’t eat it on the day you make it—just allow a good “resting” time—two hours at least.

By the way, both these veggies made on the grill are excellent to use for the parmigiana and leaner fare for the fat conscious! Sorry, folks, they don’t work for the caponata.