A Meal Fit for a King

When I was a kid, there was nothing like walking up the block and seeing my Grandfather's car in the driveway.  Gramps is the King of all grandfathers (just ask any of his 10 grandkids!!), and with him at the house, we had a really good chance of getting Genovese for dinner.   It is still Rennie's favorite dish and Mom always loved to make it for him.  Quick sniff when you walked in the door would confirm it, cause Mom always cooked this one long and slow during the day and the smell... well it was really somthin' else.  It always hit you like a freight train when you walked in the door, especially on a fall or winter day.  On days when I'm missing home or thinking of Mom, nothin really hits the spot like a big dish of Genovese.  This is a great dish that gets even better when you take your time cooking it.  I usually like to give myself at least 3-4 hours. I keep it going over a tiny flame (about the size of a match will do) and walk out of the house and then back in every now and then, just to judge the scent.

I like to start with a nice roast- a bottom round or a chuck roast with plenty of good marbling.   In a heavy bottomed pot, I braise the meat in some olive oil.  While it starts searing on the first side, I start peeling and cutting my onions, usually a half a dozen, maybe a little more if they are small.  (To this day, in his 80's, Rennie still cuts the onions for this dish every time Gramma makes it) 

Once the meat has been turned for the last time, the onions go in and get a little time to sweat it out.  I hit it with some salt and fresh ground pepper and a secret ingredient that I will probably get into trouble for sharing (sorry Gramma, but they're practically family!!)- a couple of quick turns around the pot with a pour of soy sauce.   Last thing to do is fill the pot with water till the meat is almost covered.   After that, turn down the heat till it is just enough to maintain a little steam coming off the surface.   Since the gravy that comes from this is like liquid gold, I like to vent the cover off the side, but still leave it mostly covered, keeping as much as possible for dinner.

And now, we move to our breif intermission.  This is about the time I like to pop open a bottle of Fortissimo and maybe turn on a good classic movie- something with Frank and the boys... Robin and the Seven Hoods or Ocean's Eleven- or maybe some Cagney- Angels with Dirty Faces or Each Dawn I Die...

As we get closer to "go time", I get my big pot of water going- at least two pounds of spaghetti or linguini for this one- if there are any leftovers, they are worth fighting over.   I'm like Joe over at italyville.com... I like some good macaroni.  If I don't make it, or get it fresh, I like my DeCecco- great texture, perfect body... boiled up a little al dente in some nice salty water-mmmmm- just thinking about it, I can taste it and feel the strands coming off that first big fork.   (I still remember fighting with my older brother in that Bronx appartment about who got to be Gramma's 'taster' when it was almost done... sweeet memories.)

While the mac's are cookin' away, I throw together a basic salad- romaine, cucumber, and tomato, as long as the season is right; dress it wih a little olive oil and red wine vinegar, maybe a cap or two of the balsamic, and toss it into the fridge for the time being.

Get the cheese out of the fridge at the same time.   I know everyone is high on Parmigianno, but not me- I can't do it; feels too much like betting the favorite.    For me, it has always been Pecorino Romano with dinner.  Big chunks of it, with a small hand grater on the table.  Now, slice that bread, get it in a basket (if it's yesterday's, give it a few minutes in a hot oven to hide it) and get it on the table.  I'm gettin hungry here!!!

Ok- so, now with your macaroni cooked, drained, and appropriately dressed in gravy (like a kid after Sunday dinner!!), let's get this thing going.  Get the meat out of the gravy and give it some time to rest on that big wooden cutting board.  Get the macaroni in a big bowl with plenty of gravy and tell everyone to sit down so you can start dishing it up.  We always start with a couple of dishes of macaroni (do any of "us" eat our secondi piatti with our primi piatti?? I hope not!!).  I can still hear my brother "Gramma, can I have some more?"... "OK Michael, give me your dish, but keep your fork"- more of those sweeet memories.

Next, bring out the salad and get your meat sliced and onto a platter, with a good amount of gravy and onions over it.  Time for round two.   I love to get my fork in there and grab an end cut- and don't you try to fight me for it!   Some fresh gravy and a good sprinkle of cheese and we're off to the races... Don't forget to hold onto some bread for the gravy in your dish.  Better yet- get a spoon!

I like to eat my salad last, a little vinegar to help cleanse the palate and aid in the digestion. And I like it in the same dish.   I love getting all those flavors together... you get the dressed salad, the gravy, the cheese left in your dish... mmmmm- I can 't get enough.

A little caveat on this dish- most of the time, you either get a great, flavorful gravy, or a very tender piece of meat.  It is a rarity to get both, even my Gramma who has been cookin' this dish up for the last 60+ years would tell you that.  But sometimes, just on a blue moon... you could get both. The evidence you are looking at here was just such a time and I am glad you could be here to share it with me- but don't think you're entitled to leftovers!!

OK- not sure I could feel any more hungry than I do right now... occupational hazard of writing about all of this.  Sadly, this post was finished long afer the leftovers were gone so we're all in the same boat as far as being able to enjoy more than a few good pictures.

One disclaimer- the meat you saw on that dish of macaroni?... just there for purposes of the photo op... that was put back on the board and eaten later, in its proper order.

And there you have it- a meal truly fit for a King... This one (like so many others) is worth all the time that goes into it.  Get the people that matter the most to you together for a sit down and enjoy- even if it doesn't come out so good, it will still be great.  'Cause Johnny Tomatoes says so!

Grampa and Gramma

In Progress

I think I have almost forgotten how to write...

I have one in the works, and it will be ready VERY soon... don't give up on me, amici...

Johnny T

Be it ever so humble...

Ok- another late posting... this one is from early December. Business has been good though; it's always tough to get these posted because down time at work is my best time for writing. Anyway- read on; it is worth all your waiting.




I just got back from a whirlwind tour of Home. Even in the cold, my City is as unbelieveable as ever. And she welcomed me with wide open arms...


Inside the first hour of my arrival I was sitting down with a slice, a real honest-to-goodness slice (ok, I guess 'a slice' isn't completely accurate) and, of course, my favorite chaser: a Manhattan Special. Ahhhhhh- it feels good to be home. Everyone I saw was walking around shivering, but I couldn't have been happier. After I dropped my bags off at a friend's house in Brooklyn, I went right back to the train . Two transfers later- and what beeee-you-tee-ful, perfectly timed transfers they were- I was walking around, just taking in everything there was to see and hear and, most of all, feel on a December night in my fair city. It was exactly how I spent much of my trip. Everywhere I went- Union Square, Wall Street, Rockefeller Plaza, Times Square, Hells Kitchen- I could feel the electricity, the raw energy just flowing through me. If you've never walked around my City at night by yourself, just looking at everyone and everything, you may not get this. For me though, it was like White Heat- "Made it Ma! Top of the world!"


I had only a few food highlights while in town. I didn't get back to many of the old haunts; instead I nibbled everywhere I went. Since street food is tough to come by in southern Cal, I took advantage of everything I could-coffee and buttered rolls, pretzels, dogs, knish, ka-bobs- everything was fair game. Outside of all that, I think I ate my weight in pizza, bagels, and bread that weekend, more than I have had in a month in California.


Saturday morning, I stopped in to see the Keeper of the Wisdom (see "Time to Get My Guinea Up") and after spending a little time catching up, I went to my brother's place where we had a great spread covering just about all of his table- and for those of you 'in the know' use your imagination- if you can think of it, then it was on that table somewhere. Fresh roasted peppers, fresh mozz, provolone, prosciuto, cappicola, mortadella, soppresata... the list goes on and on. To me, though, the best part was the bread (all three kinds). I haven't had good bread since my last trip. But this wasn't good bread... this was great bread! Crisp crust, soft interiors, GREAT, GREAT flavor.


What else could I ask for?? Here I was having the quintessential Italian experience. Of course, so much of what it is we do is centered around a good meal... but that is always a great place to start- after all, good food=love, doesn't it? In so many ways, it was about the food, but more important was the company. I was with all of my brothers, my aunt came by with my cousins, and even my baby sister made an appearance (she is a tough one!!). We talked, laughed, shouted, ATE... if that isn't what being a good Guinea is all about, if that isn't the real Italian experience, then don't bother trying to tell me what is- I don't want it. There aren't many ways the day could have been any better than it was.


Even though we had spent the whole day eating, I was able to convince my younger brothers to drive me back to Brooklyn and join me for another meal. I had to get back to Schnack... I had to have more of those fries, that delicious, perfectly messy burger, and most of all, a Beer Milkshake. I skipped it last time I was in town and had regrets ever since. Let me tell you- even on a full stomach, Schnack was perfect... and I do mean perfect. I hooked up with a bunch of friends I hadn't seen in a while and about 15 of us stopped in to see Harry and the crew at Schnack. They accomodated our loud, raucous bunch with a nice long table and another great round of food. After my burger, fries, onion rings, and a couple of the RC Ribs I took from my brother's plate (older brother prerogative), I was ready to try my first Beer Milkshake. Everyone else was a little hesitant. Tell you what though, after one sip I knew I could file this one under the heading "Glad you don't like it- more for me". It was great. The taste was deep and rich. The sweet ice cream was the perfect foil to the beer... I immediately kicked myself for waiting so long.


We spent a good amount of time at Schnack doing more of what I had done all day... eat, drink, laugh, and share. What a great, great time.Schnack was a perfect final meal before I had to get on that plane. (Well, almost final- I'm sure you will be shocked to know that I managed to sneak in a little more Sunday morning on the way to the airport; I put down 2 everything bagels with lox and cream cheese and a loaf of lard bread from Mazzola with a big cup of coffee on the drive over)


I came back to Southern California with my batteries fully recharged after just 72 hours at home- happy head, happy heart, and happy stomach. Its like that nice little girl from Kansas once said, 'There ain't no place like home'... well- it was somethin' like that.


Home is not a house... home is a lot deeper than that (and some of us have more than one). If you want to be happy, then go "home"- wherever and whatever that means to YOU- and spend some time there doing the things that are important and with the people that are important. It's the only way. 'Cause Johnny Tomatoes says so!!

Go Fig-ure!

Ok- so my administrative skills could use some work... gonna need to hire someone to keep an eye on things around here. Coulda sworn I had posted this one months ago. (I know it says August 22, but I didn't really get this one up till early January) Anyway- better late than never.





I stopped at the farmers market on Sunday and made a great find. One of the vendors had Figs. Brought me back to the tree in my backyard in Brooklyn, a white fig tree that stood up surprisingly well against some harsh winters and put out some of the sweetest figs I've ever eaten.



So I bought a tray of these, hoping for the best but prepared for the worst... it was a mixed tray of Italian strawberry figs and black figs. After picking up a few more things, I headed home and made one quick stop at a deli on the way. Even if the figs were good, a little prosciutto would make them great. And then, if the figs weren't so good, I would at least have a little prosciutto to eat... either way, it would be a win for me.

I got home, poured a little something to go with them and dove in. I was shocked- here it was August, about a month ahead of what was usually the start of good figs from my old tree, and I was tearing through some of the best figs I had ever eaten. They were big and soft and perfectly ripe- inside was sweet as honey. They were promptly paired off with some of that thinly sliced prosciutto and devoured with little regard for fingers.


I tell ya- it was definitely the highlight of the day... maybe the week. The pair off was a little bit of perfection. A little salt, a little sweet... what else is there? A great flavor for late August. They were so good, I didn't save any for the grill... guess I'll have to get some more next week.





There is nothing like a nice mange after spending some time at the farmer's market. If the season is right and you're looking for a quick bite that will keep your mouth happy all day, you have to go with the figs and prosciutto. There really isn't a better way this time of year. 'Cause Johnny Tomatoes says so!