Thanksgiving is incompatible with healthy eating...

Thanksgiving is coming! Must procure a turkey! Cranberry sauce already cooked and frozen. Just found a guest who will take charge of mashed potatoes. My probably BFF in Dubai is going to some length and expense to make pecan pie! I've got a jar of limoncello and big ideas about cheesecake! Anchovy crostini mix is fermenting in the fridge!

My DH and I are absolutely slathering in anticipation of Thursday. We pretty much agree we will give up on the whole Healthiest Way of Eating plan (combined total of 7+ kilos gone! so far...) for the day and just enjoy our Thanksgiving dinner. But can we?

The funny problem with this way of eating is that it grows on you. I actually ate a piece of prosciutto the other day and thought it was way too salty. I didn't like it at all. We shall have to see what happens with the feast we are planning.

Cranberry Sauce:

1lb cranberries

1 cup water

1/2 cup sugar

1 orange

1 thumb ginger

Combine cranberry, water and sugar in a heavy bottom saucepan. Simmer until berries are beginning to burst. Cut orange, removing all pith. Chop ginger very finely. Add to pan and simmer another 20 minutes or so until everything is well combined. Freezes very well.

Crostini:

1/2 lb ground beef

2 cloves garlic

1 small onion

pepper, salt to taste

1 can anchovy in oil

Coat the bottom of a 9" frying pan with oil. Chop and cook the onions until well browned. Add the beef and brown it. Add garlic, also finely chopped, salt and pepper. When beef is cooked through, add anchovy and the oil from the can. I usually make a little well in the middle and let the anchovy melt, then stir it into the beef.

Spoon on slices of toasted french bread (either buttered, plain or with mozzarella cheese, depending on how decadent you are feeling).

Sandwiches....with special thanks to Pnsndltn...

I've been thinking about sandwiches, well I've really been thinking about my Dad, and his favorite kinds of sandwiches. And also my cousins who taught my kids to giggle every time they hear the word "saannndddwiiccchhes"...

When I worked for my dad we would go to the flea market on Sunday mornings at like 4am. On Saturday night, we would make the sandwiches. Usually, we took round soft egg buns (like a burger bun) and filled them with roasted red peppers and anchovies. I never really got into the anchovy ones. But let me tell ya, when you've been up since 4am swilling bad flea market coffee out of a styrofoam cup, there ain't nothing in this world more bracing than an anchovy and roasted red pepper sandwich!

There is a shocking sandwich he loved which most people are terrified to try, it can't possibly be real, it's THAT bad for you. You get a loaf of french bread. Or, if you are in Rhode Island a Crugnale's roll and you slather it with salted butter (preferably a little cold) and into this roll you layer a half dozen slices of the best possible, thinnest sliced prosciutto you can get your hands on. This is blissfully delicious, but hard to get your mind to just shut up and let you enjoy it.

He also loved tiny chicken salad sandwiches; the kind you get at lunch buffets or not-so fancy weddings.

A chicken salad recipe (he would never abide by fruit in chicken salad, but what the hey...):
1 cup cut up chicken, 1/3 cup mayonnaise, 2 tbsp soy sauce, 1 tbsp sesame oil, 1/4 cup golden raisins, 1/4 cup cashews, 2 ribs of celery- chopped, 2 or 3 spring onions- chopped. Mix it up, spoon into rolls, sprinkle some coriander on top.

Click on this to Google Image 'Sandwich Platter' rather beautiful.

Quahogs, as promised.

I'm un-wholesomely jealous of all you people from Rhode Island right now because I have a total craving for quahogs. A quahog, for you poor souls who have never had the supreme privilege of eating one, is a large, hard shelled clam. I even feel bad for Italians in Italy who think they have eaten linguini and clams but have only ever had those poor sad little Mediterranean clams. Do not comment that you have the greatest clams in Cornwall or Brittany, I will delete the comment, you do not know what you are talking about. Some ocean quahogs have lived up to 410 years! Not if I can help it...

Here it is, linguini and quahogs. My mother ate this nearly every Friday night of the 40 years of her married life.

1 pint frozen whole quahogs or about 18 quahogs if you are cleaning them yourself.
liquor from the quahogs (this just means the juice...)
1/4 cup olive oil
4 or 5 cloves garlic, finely chopped
zest and juice of 1/2 lemon
fresh parsley
pepper
salt, but it probably wont be necessary.
linguini (about 1/2 lb)

Boil some water. While it is boiling, use a scissor to cut up your quahog into thumb sized bits. Put the olive oil, garlic, quahogs and liquor, lemon zest and juice in a medium sized frying pan, in that order. Do not put the heat on.
When the water boils, add the linguini and then, and only then, turn the heat on (medium) under your clams. Stir occasionally, dont let it come to any kind of rolling boil, but it's ok if it bubbles.
When the linguini is done, clams should be done too, they will be opaque and slightly rubbery (that's ok, part of the deliciousness is to chew them a little...). Put your linguini in a bowl and pour the clams over, season with salt and pepper and use a scissor to cut a generous portion of fresh parsley over the top.

This is a clip from the very bad movie, Federal Hill, which features a shot of a beautiful grapevine my dad grew (at 2:05).

Pesca pesca pesca

Thursday is the beginning of the Arabic weekend. As such, I decided to make fish tonight. I know that I am supposed to eat fish on Fridays because that is what Catholics do, but I have to say the association for me is more with a fish dinner starting the weekend than it is with Friday, the day in particular.
I used to love to come home to the parent's house on Friday nights when I was working and still living with them. I would be handed an enormous glass of wine by my mother and a beautiful bowl of linguini and clams by my dad followed by a slab of codfish cooked in a very particular way. (Which if any of you know how to do it, please tell me, I cannot remember...)
So, tonight I made fish.
I had 3 good sized pieces of white fish, 500g or 1lb. Not sure exactly what, maybe haddock? from the co-op. This afternoon, I put it in a baking dish with a bit of olive oil in the bottom and covered the fish with a tomato-basil pesto (basically throw a jar of pesto into the blender with a couple of fresh tomatoes and an extra clove of garlic or two). Baked it in the oven for about 20min at 200C.
Served it with some vegetables and aglio olio. Anchovy, garlic and oil sauce because there is no way on earth I'm going to eat warm water clams (hepatitis specials). This is one of those things that if you are familiar with the quahog, you will have sympathy for me. If you aren't, just write me off as an insane Italian/American. Tomorrow maybe I will tell you what to do with quahogs if you are so lucky as to have access to them...

Al Fredo

Fredo is the brother in the Godfather who Michael has to do away with because he betrays the family to Hyman Roth. Alfredo is a restaurant in Rome which claims invention of the sauce. Alfresco means outdoors, or an excellent place to eat your fettucine alfredo.

I have no idea where my father got the recipe for his alfredo, he might have made it up. Its luscious. I can't tell you how to make it, but I'll give you a tasty recipe which is not even close so no one can accuse me of giving away family secrets...

1 stick of butter (yes the whole stick- forget about eating this altogether if you are on a diet)
1 pt. heavy cream
2 cloves garlic
1 cup of romano cheese
salt & pepper to taste

The important thing to remember about making this is DO NOT LET IT BUBBLE AT ALL EVEN ON THE EDGES OF THE PAN (Critical).

Melt the butter in a heavy saucepan, press the garlic cloves but do not let them cook, just swirl them around. Whisk in the cream slowly and warm the mixture. Whisk in the romano until it is just melted. Add your salt & pepper. Pour over hot pasta. Cut some basil over the top to serve. Some people are very opinionated about pink sauces, I just throw a few tablespoons of marinara into this to make pink sauce which is very pleasant with tortellini.

Spaghetti and other unmentionable foods.

I dont eat spaghetti. Its kind of complex. Spaghetti is for the Mayonnaise, as Tony Soprano, a favorite Italian-American stereotype, calls you people. My father called you the Medi-gans, try to figure it out, not to speak ill of the dead, but suffice it to say he could be less charitable on this question than Tony Soprano...

Anyhoo, today I made spaghetti. I had it in the cupboard, what can I say? It wasn't precisely bad, I think its the roundness that I find objectionable. Too slippery or something.. I used the 1/2 whole wheat brand of Ronzoni thin spaghetti. The boys didn't seem to notice the difference between it and our normal thin linguini, except Mr. Dumpling who agrees that spaghetti is 'not for us' (the comment that got me writing this post...).

For a pleasant spaghetti sauce, my people call it gravy, made in the crockpot:
2 cans crushed peeled tomatos
1/2 can of water
1 jar Newman's own pasta sauce (cheating, I know, but again, it was in the cupboard, adjust for salt when using jarred sauce)
whatever red meat you have around, in my case it was a couple of pork ribs from the other day (frozen), some ground beef with garlic, and a few pieces of veal in red-wine gravy.
1 large onion, browned in a scant teaspoon of olive oil
2 or 3 cloves of chopped garlic
some dried italian herbs
you can add a splash of red wine too, if you like

I let it cook on low for about 8 hours, stirring occasionally. Its a rich sauce without being too thick, perfect for long pasta, ahem!, spaghetti...

Never right after that...

Italians love tragedy, I dont have any great insight into why, for the same reason they are hypochondriacs, I suppose... Anyway, one aspect of tragedy that is especially important to the Italian psyche is the idea of lifelong scars. My father knew tons of people who were "never right" after their fiance died in a car crash, their husband left them for a flight attendant, they lost a finger in a jewelry press...

I'm beginning to think I may be one of these people. I seem well enough on the outside, but I'm not right at all in the aftermath of my parents dying. I cant cook a single thing of interest and most people seem afraid of me, actually I'm a bit afraid of myself.

I have no consolation of faith although I go through the motions for the kiddos.

I dont know at all where to begin with their things and I sincerely doubt what little expertise I possess is going to be enough to help us.

I am so tired. I just want to hide in the sand, literally and figuratively.

What are we going to have? part II

Christmas dinner is, of course, the biggest 'What are we going to have?' of the year. Italian-Americans, generally speaking, do not celebrate Christmas when someone has died. BUT, the arguement that a single death doesnt trump the birth of Christ has been made and so we forge ahead.

EXCEPT, they dont do this because they are so arrogant (although they can be...) as to think that a single death trumps the birth of Christ. They do it because who feels like having Christmas right now? Not me, certainly, I guess I'm doing it for the kids.

So what ARE we going to have? Turkey? Beef Wellington? A steamship round? Committee meets today. I'll let you know.

What are we going to have??

This time of year my father's favorite question was 'What are we going to have'?

We kick off the discussion by making fun of the Italian- American "tradition" of 7 fishes on Christmas eve "I got news for ya!, there arent seven different fishes in the whole Mediterranean Sea..." and we call it "Da Feast of da 76 fishes." etc. etc.

These jokes are followed up by an earnest discussion of what is an appropriate meal, since Christmas Eve is kind of a penitential day in preparation for the birth of Jesus. My father discusses eels which his father used to always eat on Christmas eve with bitter greens. Eels being one of the few foods my dad wouldn't even consider eating; we quickly depart from the idea and get down to making a menu.

This usually includes: linguini and clams, (pasta is always controversial, is it too rich? should we have something simpler?) baked cod, scallops and maybe a tuna salad.

My dad always bought the fish, insisted on it 'You kids cant afford fish these days!' and then we launch into the "You used to be able to get lobster for a quarter, nobody wanted it!" conversation... I dont even know where to buy good fish.

Its a bit like Narnia 'Always winter, never Christmas' around here. The great lion is gone...

Carbo mourning...

In this part of the world (Italian-American New England) when someone dies, everyone they know then attempts to kill the remaining relatives with carbohydrates. My father has not been dead for 48 hours and my mother, who cannot eat, has received approximately:
15lbs of baked ziti
7lbs of pasta salad
50 tiny chicken salad sandwiches (these were my dad's favorites and, in the right mood, he was fully capable of taking out at least 10)
1 dozen colossal muffins
5 enormous calzones of various flavors
1 extra large box of pizza strips
this doesnt even include the carbohydrate festivals that are unfolding at my house and my brother's house.
What is this about?Who eats like this? Please, someone, send me a salad...