Rising Like a Phoenix from the Flames

Pardon me... is this blog taken? Hello my friends; sorry to have been away for so long... I suppose that sometimes things just are what they are... Hope you have all been well.

Now, let's get down to business.

Sitting on the cusp of summer, the flame reference seemed only too appropriate (the Phoenix has another more poignant meaning; I may get into that one day). So... the heat... Last night was no exception. A little more than warm and a little less than hot last night when I finally got home. Didn't seem like a great day for heating the oven up if it could be avoided. The grill was a nice option to have and it took care of part of the dinner (I ran a few zucchini through the mandolin and then grilled with some olive oil... perfetto!)
But I had been thinking about the beets that came from the local farmers earlier this week. I really wanted to try them and I had a fair idea of how I wanted to prep them. So, after Mia Bambina was kind enough to roast them (and peel, cube, and refrigerate them) I went about finishing the beets for the table. I toasted a handful of walnut halves in a pan on the stove. I added these and a handful of feta to a bowl with the beets and let them rest a little. The nuts were still warm and helped to soften the cheese. I was thinking about what to dress them with... I wanted something to foil the sweetness of the beets, but not quite as sharp as the feta. I settled on a little bit of olive oil and balsamic vinegar... simple, easy. I added just a couple of tablespoons over the top and tossed it a bit. The result was just about exactly what I was hoping for. The beets were tender and sweet, still had a little chill on them too. The walnuts, still a little warm, had nearly blended themselves with the feta and made great little clumps of flavor and texture. The cross over of the warm with the cold was as important as the sweet and sharp foiling each other. The balsamic vinegar added just the right amount of flavor: complementing but not overpowering. All in all, I was very happy with the dish for a first attempt. I think next time I may fill it out a little more. More beets for sure and I think it would go well with a nice bunch of arugula... Can't help quoting one of my favorites here, from "My Blue Heaven":  

     Vincent 'Vinnie' Antonelli: Arugula. I haven't had arugula in six weeks.  
     Supermarket Manager: What's that?  
     Vincent 'Vinnie' Antonelli: It's a vegetable.

So.. there you go... easing back into things with a nice cold side of vegetables, light enough to accompany almost anything you may be putting on the table.  I promise to come back with it again after I try it with the arugula.  In the meantime, give it a try. I am sure you'll love it.
'Cause Johnny Tomatoes says so!!

Coulda knocked me over with a feather...

I am constantly amazed by the widely varied areas that are home to visitors of my blog (though so few of you say hi... )

I often get a smile out of the different Google searches that lead here too.

Tune in soon paisans and paisanas... I have a couple in the basket almost ready for you.


Johnny T

Capisce Caprese??

I love the heat I have been taking out here... sun has been beating down on my San Marzanos getting them good and sweet. While I am a carnivore by nature, one of my all time favorite dishes for a hot summer night is a little fresh mozz and tomatoes. I usually leave the mozz in the freezer for about a half hour before I cut it- slicing is a lot easier and cleaner. Then I go to work on some big juicy tomatoes. Even if I'm making them for nobody but myself, I can't help but alternate the red and white in a line around the edge of the plate... to me, it is just the way it has to be... I like to get the whole plate covered and then I slice up some basil and scatter it across the top- one of the chefs I used to work for always yelled at me about that-"You're gonna brooze dem leaves up kid!!"- but I like a little basil in every bite and this is the best way I know how. Then, a little salt and fresh black pepper, a turn of the Fillipo Berio bottle around the plate and a splash of good balsamic vinegar.



This is one of the best summer dishes... satisfies the salt and sweet cravings and is nice and light for the hot weather. Plus, good for a Friday night when you're taking the non- carnivore route. The smell and taste of this always puts me in mind of summer... I know what it is too- its the basil, that sweet,smooth smell of basil always screams 'SUMMER!!!"



The smell of basil always does it for me... some people like fresh cut grass, others figure its the first crack of the bat in the Bronx... but for me, it will always be the basil. I used to walk home down 79th Street from Utrecht after I got off the M train. There was a guy who lived about half way down... he didn't have much of a yard, it was maybe five feet square. But it was just enough room for Our Lady on the halfshell and a forest of basil... I used to breathe extra deep as I walked down that block and always on his side of the street. One day I struck gold... on the way home one hot afternoon, I passed during the middle of a harvest... I expressed my appreciation for what he had done and I was duly rewarded for my honesty and developed sense of "The Good Stuff". My new friend was not pleased until I was walking down the street with my over-sized mitts each grasping as much basil as I could carry.



That night, many pignole nuts gave their lives so I could make the best batch of pesto ever... enough for two nights of dinner and still a generous amount to put in the freezer, to be used a spoonful at a time in soup, on pizza, and even striped across the top of a fritata.



Fresh cut grass is good if you're in the country and the Yanks will always be aces in my book, but if you want something you can only get in the summer, it has to be the basil... each and every time. 'Cause Johnny Tomatoes says so!!

It's Not Easy Bein' Green

Six years ago, today, St Pat's... we all gathered at Mom's house for dinner. St Pat's wasn't a huge deal for us (not like Christmas Eve), but Mom always made sure we had out corned beef and cabbage that day, sort of an acknowledgment of the Irish blood from my father's side. Let's face it.. a meal like this is something even a big Guinea like me can enjoy a few times a year. My sister, all my brothers and I gathered around the old table we grew up at. Mom cooked up a serious feast for us... beef, cabbage, potatoes, soda bread (two kinds I think)...beer for the older ones- even Mom had some. We took our time going through the meal... savoring every bite; taking a lot of time to talk and share and just be together. This was a big deal for Mom, to have all of her kids together under one roof like we had always been- it was not something that happened all that often anymore.


This dinner was special for more than that though... this was the day before Mom was going back to the hospital... she had high hopes of something new that was gonna knock the crap outta what was eating at her insides. So while the atmosphere seemed a happy one... lots of laughs and joking around... there was an underlying concern. We all knew this was serious stuff...


The meal was great though... we all ate till we couldn't fit anymore and then we added just a little more. I was not all that happy to be leaving that night, but I had to work the next day, so off I went after a pot or two of coffee.


That turned out to be the last meal Mom cooked for me. We shared a few more meals... I knew she needed to eat to keep up her strength but that there was no way she'd be able to eat much of the hospital food, so I went home everyday and cooked a meal to bring to her. I still remember sitting there and having dinner with her one night when I made Chicken and Penne Arrabiata. I added a lot of hot peppers because the treatments were killing her tastebuds... the smile on her face at the first bite... brings tears to my eyes... "ahh- the fist thing I have been able to taste all week!!"


I brought her food for the first couple of weeks, but her appetite was waning as the medication and treatments took their toll. All my life, that was the only time we knew for sure when Mom was really not feeling well... lost her appetite.


And here we are, back to St Pat's again... I eat my corned beef, potatoes, and cabbage- a meal Mom and I shared many times, and remember that Last Supper. Time has a way of slipping by way too fast, but the memories never fade... like it was yesterday.


So load up your plate- get your fill of beef and cabbage and potatoes. Raise a glass- of Guinness, Harp, Pellegrino, or whatever- and toast the cook. Wear your best green and a big grin... we're all Irish today. 'Cause Johnny Tomatoes says so!!


"... And until I see you again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand..."

Miss you Mom