Pizza

The beauty! The perfection! Oh... and the guy making the pizza is quite nice looking, too. If only it had been him instead of his chubbier and older counterpart that asked me for un bacio, perhaps I would have considered.

This is Gusto Pizza, my favorite spot for pizza in Firenze. Luckily it was just a couple blocks for both of the apartments I lived in, making it quickly become part of my routine. Once this delectable man has finished crafting your pizza, you are presented with this beauty below:


This is their margherita pizza - just mozzarella, tomatoes, basil, and olive oil. Missing my pizza fix, I tried to create my own tonight. By no means did it come even close to touching the perfection that Gusto Pizza can create, but it was a start.


My Pizza Calabrese was certainly not as bubbly and crisp as what could come from a fire oven, but the flavor was surprisingly close to what it should be. I partially blame the whole wheat pizza dough that I choose as contributing majorly to the fail that was this pizza. Pizza Calabrese is composed of

• Pizza dough
• Mozzarella cheese
• Tomato sauce
• Salame Calabrese
• Red pepper flakes
• Capers

My first cooking teacher, Michele, was from Calabria (the foot part of the boot). The region is surrounded by the sea, so they have many fish dishes and love using hot peppers. One of my Italian teachers, Rosella, described the people as having block heads. Since Michele, without a distinct blockish head, is the only Calabrese person I know, I will have to take her word for it. Among many other words, he never quite knew how to translate caperi into English, so he ended up calling them "capes". The "capes" add a really fantastic salty punch to your bite. Make sure you wash the vinegar or salt off of them before using because otherwise your "salty bite" will end up being more like a salt lick.

For now, I'll keep practicing my pizza skills. I did get a few good tosses in there and managed not to drop the dough on the floor or get it stuck to the ceiling.

Dinner Party I

Last Thursday I hosted my first dinner party in my new apartment in D.C. to thank my wonderful friends, both new and old, for introducing me to my new hometown. On the upside, everything turned out perfect and I couldn't have had a better time. On the downside, there are no pictures to show of the food, which is a shame because it was quite a feast. I do have some quick pictures that were snapped before any eating actually happened to share though, so not all is lost.

For the dinner, I had a brie and crackers platter out and made a tomato salad with lentils, goat cheese, and a lemon-basil vinaigrette for an appetizer, french bread (par-baked from Trader Joe's and finished off in the oven) and steamed mussels in a white wine butter sauce for the main course, and shortbread cookies for dessert.

Before any cooking actually happened, I stopped at my farmer's market to pick up some fresh flowers. I figured this would be a nice distraction from the tangle cords by my desk that I didn't quite get to tending to in time and all of the empty picture frames I have yet to print pictures for.

Back to the food...

The mussels were super easy to make, inexpensive ($4 per pound), and something I love to cook because it seems impressive without actually taking any work on my part. Also, there is slim margin for error - if the mussels are open after they are cooked then you've succeeded; if not, steam them some more. Simplice! All that is required in terms of chef-skills is creating a tasty sauce in the bottom of your pot before you dump in the mussels. (Hint: more butter = better sauce)

• Chopped Shallot
• Olive Oil
• White Wine
• Mussels, rinsed and de-bearded (discard any already opened shells)
• Butter
• Parsley or other herbs

In a large pot with a lid, sautee the shallots in olive oil until they are translucent and fragrant. Pour in a cup or two, depending on how big your pot is, of the white wine. Add in your mussels. Cover with the lid and steam for about 6 minutes. Once the shells are opened and the mussel inside looks opaque, remove the mussles with a slotted spoon and place into your serving dish. Add butter and herbs to the remaining liquid and boil until it has reduced to a thicker sauce. Pout this sauce over the mussels. I like to serve this is deep bowls. No utensils are required - just pick up a shell, scoop up the sauce in that shell, and then spoon it all into your mouth. Use the French bread for soaking up all the extra sauce once you've finished the mussels.

The shortbread cookies were a last minute thought around 10:30pm Wednesday night. I only had flour, brown sugar, and butter for making something sweet with. In most traditional shortbread cookie situations, one would measure things with measuring cups, have a hand mixer to make sure the butter in blended while cold, and have some sort of formal cookie cutter. In non-traditional cases, like my apartment, shortbread cookies have been known to be measured by estimates in an irregular shaped drinking glass, mixed with hot blooded hands, and then cut with said drinking glass. Whether you prefer the traditional or non-traditional method, sugar and butter can never fail to taste delicious. Perhaps in the end they shouldn't have been called "shortbread cookies", but they did the trick after cheese, salad, mussels, and several glasses of wine.

This is the only picture that was actually taken during the evening, and I'm happy to say that there were no more because we were having such a wonderful time eating and chatting.


I am sure people have many standards, varying in importance, by which they choose their friends. If I had to choose my top five qualities of what makes a good friend to me, I'm confident that "possessing the love and appreciation of food" would fall easily within that list. That one characteristic really can tell you a lot about a person.

The Glory That Is The Farmer's Market

Late summer's bounty never fails to impress. Wednesday is my local (and by local I mean, next door) farmer's market day. An intersection near the metro stop is closed off, and farmers from Virginia, West Virginia, Pennsylvania, and D.C. set up shop for the afternoon. Last week I made my first stop there to buy some delicious heirloom tomatoes (brandywine to be specific) for a dinner party I hosted on Thursday. They were so delicious that I knew I'd be going back to the same stand every Wednesday from here on out.

This week, besides more tomatoes, I also bought lovely corn, basil, an onion, some honeycrisps apples, basil, chicken breasts, and POTATOES!

Behold!

These wonderful fingerling and purple potatoes taste just as lovely as they look. After the farmer's market shopping spree, I took a "quick" run to the Lincoln Memorial on the Potomac Rive (ah, the life!). By the time I got home, I was quite hungry, so the potatoes' cook time was a little rushed and probably not as perfect as they could have been.

Tonight's dinner: Heirloom Potatoes with Lentils, Tomatoes, and Goat Cheese

• Mixed Potatoes
• Olive Oil
• Onion
• Lentils, cooked
  
• Brandywine Tomato, chopped
• Basil
• Goat Cheese
• Salt & Pepper

Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a skillet. Add chopped potatoes, and let them get some color, shaking the skillet and rotating their cooking side every couple of minutes. Adjust the heat accordingly. Once they look golden on the outside, add in the chopped onion, toss to coat everything in olive oil, then cover with a lid (or a plate if you don't have a lid for your skillet like me). Check on the potatoes regularly and make sure they are not burning. Once they are cooked, add in your chopped tomatoes, lentils, and basil and season generously with salt and pepper. Add extra olive oil if the mixture looks too dry. Remove from the heat, plate, and then crumble the goat cheese on top.

This meal is really quite nutritious. You've got lovely colors (colors = antioxidants), loads of fiber, and hearty kicks of protein from the lentils and calcium from the cheese. Herbs are actually packed with vitamins and antioxidants, so pile them on! I caution that this meal can be a little bland, so take whatever extra steps you like in seasoning as things cook. I generally don't combine onions and garlic (it's an Italian thing...), but in this case I might break the rule next time.

Italian Memories

After watching both Eat Pray Love and Under the Tuscan Sun this weekend, I've been missing Italy like crazy. Even though being in Italy was not always the easiest, the most pleasant, or enjoyable at times, those bad memories seem to leave my mind and only the good ones stay. One of my absolute favorite things about Italy was my adorable produce lady that had a stand in Piazza di Santo Spirito everyday, rain or shine.


After one of my interactions with her I wrote down this:

"She is an old woman of about seventy, probably only reaching my shoulders if she were to stand up straight. Her wrinkles have marked similarity to the pale green cabbages she’s selling, and my eyes keep wanting to connect the two. Today she has some scratches on her face. I notice a bowl full of fresh eggs and imagine her being clawed by one less-than-happy hen when she went rustling through the coop this morning. She recommends this bright green leafy bundle. Unfamiliar to me, I ask how to cook it. “Crudo! Con l’olio e limone,” she replies, knowing instinctively to use common, basic words for my limited language skills. Her certainty convinces me to follow her sage instructions, and I buy the greens and a lemon."

After much research about what this lady actually sold me (that I subsequently bought every time I visited), I have concluded that it is a puntarelle, an Italian chicory. The leaves are quite bitter, but the inside is full of this almost white, crispy stalks that are actually hollow.

The other crazy vegetable that she gave me that I had never tried was agretti. These are little heirloom herbs that are actually quite rare. My vegetable lady told me to cook them in boiling, salted water for about 15 minutes, drain them, and season with olive oil and lemon. I don't enjoy them raw because they taste too much like grass. But when they are cooked, they are nicely acidic, salty, fresh, and taste something along the lines of spinach or cime di rapa (also known as broccoli rabe or rapini).

I have yet to find either of these vegetables here in America but have not given up hope just yet.

Rigatoni all'amatriciana

In anticipation of seeing Eat Pray Love tonight, I had been craving some gorgeous Italian food all day long to fulfill the "eat" component of the movie. I needed something simple yet rich, something comforting yet different. For me, that turned out to be Rigatoni all'amatriciana.


I never actually at this while in Italy or even remember seeing it on menus since it is not a typical Tuscan dish. Sugo all'amatriciana originated in the Lazio region, located west and central encompassing Rome.

This is super easy to make and requires just a few ingredients that I always have on hand - and you should too!

• Olive oil
• Onion
• Pancetta
• Red pepper flakes
• Whole canned tomatoes
• Rigatoni
• Parmigiano cheese

Warm a little bit of olive oil over low-medium heat. Add in your diced onion (about 1/4 inch pieces) and cubed pancetta of the same size. The pancetta will give off more fat, so don't overdo the oil. As those are cooking add in your red pepper flakes. Once the onions are translucent and then pancetta is brown and crispy, add in your whole canned tomatoes (or fresh, peeled tomatoes if you are so inclined). Break up the tomato with a wooden spoon. You will no doubt squirt your beautiful, clean white shirt with lots of sauce. Don't stress and make a note to buy some bleach. Let this simmer until your pasta is done cooking.

For your pasta, add the noodles to a pot of salted, rapidly boiling water. Give it a stir. Make sure to check every couple of minutes for texture. When it is just about cooked, remove the rigatoni with a slotted spoon and transfer it to the sauce. You want some of the pasta water because the wonderful starches that are in it will help the sauce stick to your noodles and rehydrate your sauce if it became too dry in the cooking process. Mix well, season with black pepper and salt. Transfer to your plate and cover with grated parmigiano cheese or, to be more authentic, pecorino.

Buon appetito!

If you're feeling brave and what to try to actually pronounce this dish, it goes something like "rig-a-ton-ee alla-ma-tree-chi-ana". Try to say that three times fast!

Leftover Walnuts = Dinner

After the Crush Berry Tart, I had lots of extra walnuts hanging out on my little cabinet I often call a pantry. I desperately wanted to use my new microplane that I bought with my first paycheck, but grating walnuts is not the best thing if you enjoy having fingertips. So my mind starts going into dinner-mode and had a serious of linkages that sounded something like this:

Walnuts. Grating. Fingertips. Ouch. Grating. Cheese. (goes to fridge to get cheese) sees: Arugula.

It didn't take long for my brain to then put together walnuts and arugula flavor-wise and arrive at pesto. Pesto is traditionally and most often made with basil and pine nuts, but arugula can be substituted for the basil and walnuts for the pine nuts to add some variation on the classic. The other components are olive oil, garlic, and parmesan cheese that is all whizzed around in a blender (or ground with mortar and pestle) until it becomes a lovely sauce. Since I own neither of these two devices, I went for a "decomposed" pesto which sounds slightly more gourmet and slightly more like rotting detritus. Nevertheless, it was delicious and the perfect quick weeknight meal.

• 1 cup Whole Wheat Rotelle Pasta
• 1 small handful of chopped Walnuts
• 1 Roma Tomato, coarsely chopped
  
• 1 large handful of Arugula
• 1 clove of Garlic, minced
• Extra Virgin Olive Oil
• Sea Salt and Pepper
• Grana Padona or Parmigiano Cheese

Boil lots of water over high heat. Salt generously. Add pasta, giving it a quick stir.

In a clean skillet, toast the walnuts until they are fragrant and just golden brown. Remove and set aside. Add a couple of good pours of olive oil to the skillet and toss in your chopped garlic. Be careful not to burn it over too high of heat. Add in the chopped tomatoes, and then the arugula. At this point your pasta should be ready, but hopefully you've been checking for the al dente texture through out your cooking process. Drain the pasta and add it to the skillet. Toss until the arugula begins to wilt. Add in the toasted walnuts, and season with sea salt and good fresh cracked pepper. Grate a generous helping of cheese over the top.

The nuts really make this a complete meal by adding lots of healthy proteins and fat, contributing to your "fullness factor". The whole meal takes just about 15 minutes to prepare from the second you start your water to boil. Life doesn't get much simpler, or tasty, than that!

Crush Berry Tart

Although I am now calling this "Crush Berry Tart", don't let the name fool you - there are no crushed berries to be found inside this delicious treat. I made this particular tart for a Sunday potluck dinner, knowing that a certain cute boy ("the crush") was going to be in attendance. Since he raved to me about the tart and helped himself to seconds, I am now considering this one of my greater life achievements. So whether you have an adorable new crush to impress or not, this is an easy way to make people believe that you actually know how to bake sweet things.

I am not much of a baker, so I enjoy making desserts that allow me to use my more "this looks like about a cup" mind instead of being concerned with teaspoons and other unnecessary measurements. Also I don't actually have any measuring tools other than the palm of my hand. Luckily I've been making this tart for years now and the "measurements" just come intuitively at this point.

Here's the recipe I've adapted from Ina Garten's Plum Tart:

• 2 cups Flour
• 3/4 cup Light Brown Sugar
• 3/4 cup Finely Chopped Walnuts
• 1 Egg
• 1 and 1/2 sticks of Butter
• 2 pounds of Mixed Berries
• Optional: Lemon Zest and Juice
  

Combine everything except for the berries. For this particular tart, I used a medium-sized espresso cup to make my measurements, but if you want to be fancy, go ahead an pull out those dusty measuring devices. To me chopping the walnuts are the best part, so make sure you buy them not pre-chopped, and then mince back and forth until you have worked out all of that tension that the last boyfriend cause. There is no need to bring out a spoon, spatula, or hand mixer. God gave you hands for a reason, and it was for mixing dough. Use them. The mixture will be crumbly, and if you want to stretch it a little further or it looks a bit too wet, you can add more flour.

Press about 3/4 of the dough mixture into the bottom of a tart pan. There's no need to grease it, goodness, you just put in 12 tablespoons of butter! Make sure you work it into the pretty ridges around the pan. Dump in your berries that you may or may not have mixed with fresh lemon zest and some squirts of the juice. (Note: Don't cut the fruit into too small of pieces. You want to see what you are eating and not have it turn into mush!) Crumble the rest of your dough mixture on top.

Bake in an oven at 400°F for 40 minutes. Check it at ten minute intervals to make sure it's not getting too brown on top. If so, make a little foil tent or cover with another baking pan. When it is done, the juices should be bubbling. Eat it warm or chilled and definitely serve with vanilla ice cream. If all goes well, the crush should proceed to walk you to the nearest metro stop at the end of the night, and then you will know that it was all worth it.