Fresh Tomatoes for Sauce

Adapted from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan

A lot of Marcella's recipes call for tomatoes that are ready for sauce. Last summer when the tomatoes were glorious, I accidentally stumbled on how good it was to get them "ready" and have them on hand. I swear next year when the tomatoes are glorious I am going to do a ton and put them up for the winter because they were so delicious, and if any of you haven't read the blog Cream Puffs in Venice, now is the moment to read about doing the tomatoes.

I want to mention a fabulous product at this point. Bella Cucina Artful Food's Organic Passata al Pomodoro. When I first wrote this post, December 31, 2007, Bella Cucina had a stand in the Market at Grand Central, which I discovered one day when I was stopping at Murray's to get some fresh ricotta. The week before last I shuttled over to Grand Central specifically to get a jar, and the stand was gone! These tomatoes are truly wonderful, surpassing anything I have found in a jar or a can. They are, however, smooth so if you want texture, they aren't for you. Other than that, they are fabulous.

They are so good that I gave Amy a case for Christmas. That was easy. Their main HQ is in Virginia Highlands in Atlanta, and Wright went to pick them up for me. I hope she likes them as much as I do. So I don't know if anyone in New York carries these tomatoes; I'm going to try to find out; otherwise, I guess they would have to be shipped from Atlanta. Bummer.

The solution, of course, is to do your own.


Fresh Tomatoes for Sauce
Adapted from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan

A lot of Marcella's recipes call for tomatoes that are ready for sauce.  Of course you can always use canned tomatoes.  A lot of tomatoes from Italy are excellent as are the brands Muir Glen and Bionaturae, but if it's summer, and the tomatoes are glorious, the solution, of course, is to do your own.

There are two ways to prepare fresh, ripe tomatoes for sauce. First, you can blanch them by plunging the tomatoes in boiling water for a little less than a minute. Drain, skin, and cut into coarse pieces.

Next, is the food mill method, which produces a smooth sauce, and it is the one I use.

Wash the tomatoes, cut them length-wise in half, and put them in a saucepan. (At this point, I add a little salt to taste, but you don't have to; you can add salt to the recipe you will use them in.)

Turn on the heat to medium, and cook for 20 to 30 minutes, depending on how thick you want the tomatoes to get.

When done to my liking, I use my food mill fitted with the disk with the smallest holes to puree the tomatoes and all their juices into a bowl.  You can use the disc with the largest holes if you want a coarser sauce.

I put the tomatoes I am not using immediately away in one-cup increments in a small Ziplock bag made for freezing.

 If you like, you can add some fresh basil before you put them away, but I don't do this because I rarely use basil in my tomato sauce.

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Marcella's Miracle Tomato Sauce - For Bill

Another one for Bill.

It's New Year's Eve morning. I'm in the country, and there are about 8 inches of freshly fallen snow outside.

It's still snowing; the fire is stoked; Walter has headed off to ski, and I'm sitting here with the new kitten, Sylvano,

writing, drinking tea, listening to Trio Mediaeval, and loading music into my new MacBook. Friends are coming over for dinner, and I'm going to make chicken paprikash. The only thing that would make it better would be if I had a larder filled with my own jarred tomatoes. Next summer, which seems so far away, no matter what, I am going to"do the tomatoes."

The next summer - a promise kept

I have a new email friend. Her name is Erin, and her blog is Spice Dish - Life is Delicious in San Francisco, where Erin lives. I've been thinking about her as I sit looking out the window at the trees and the field and the birds.

There is no place I would rather be right now. I wonder if Erin would enjoy spending this morning here with me, having a nice breakfast before heading home to celebrate New Year's Eve in San Fran.

If we could only apparate.

I have already written about Giulian0 Hazan's recipe in which he adapted his mother's original recipe, slicing the onion instead of cutting it in half, and it is very good. But it's high time I mentioned the original because it's a miracle recipe - so much more than the sum of its simple parts.

And if you use fabulous butter,

beautiful tomatoes,

(but high-quality canned will do), and Maldon Salt,

it is so delicious you will find yourself just wanting to eat it straight out of the pan.

Believe it or not, it's the first tomato sauce Molly ever made from scratch.

Marcella's Miracle Tomato Sauce

Adapted from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan

Serves 6

2 cups of ripe tomatoes that have already been made ready for sauce or 2 cups canned Italian plum tomatoes cut up with their juice (a 14-1/2 ounce can of diced tomatoes will be fine here)
5 tablespoons butter (don't have a fit - this is sauce for a lot of pasta)
1 medium onion, peeled (did I really have to tell this this?) and cut in half
Salt
1 to 1-1/2 pounds pasta
Freshly grated parmigiano-reggiano cheese

Put the tomatoes in a saucepan, add the butter, onion halves, and some salt, and cook uncovered at a slow simmer for 30 to 45 minutes until the fat floats free from the tomato. I find it usually takes closer to 30 minutes.

Stir occasionally, mashing any large piece of tomato in the pan, if there are any, with a wooden spoon. Taste and add more salt, if necessary, keeping in mind that you will add some parmigiano-reggiano cheese at the end. Discard the onion, and toss the sauce with pasta. Then add some parmigiano cheese and toss again or put the cheese on the table so the diners can add their own.

Because you want to sauce the pasta lightly, this is enough sauce for 1 to 1-1/2 pounds. If you're making less pasta than that, you can freeze the leftover sauce. If you do this, do it without the onion and without any cheese.

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Pegu

I was going to say that at this festive time of year, I love to have a good cocktail, but truth be told, I love a good cocktail any time of the year! This drink may be better to have in the summer when you're looking to cool down, but let's fact it, most of it live lives where we are not hanging around in the scorching summer sun and need a cool-down at the end of the day. So since we are inundated with air-conditioning and don't find ourselves in a room at sunset where fans overhead are trying to tame the sweltering heat, and I just became aware of this cocktail, I tried it and am passing it along to you now - even though it's December. Don't drink one again until the middle of June if you like, but do try it immediately. Immediately means go collect what you need for the drink right this minute, make it, and sip. The worst that can happen is you'll add it to your repertoire for next summer; the best that can happen is you'll have an extra drink to enjoy between now and June. I have to pass this along to Mary because her brother Ken is quite the bartender.

I got this drink, which is called the Pegu, from Vintage Cocktails. It has an interesting history. Apparently, it was the drink of choice at a men's club called - not surprisingly - Pegu in Burma, either in Rangoon proper or the outlying town of Pegu, during the 1920's, where, I am sure, ceiling fans were actually required to cool bodies and tempers at the end of the day. Walter doesn't like it as much as I do. Maybe my new-found affection for it has to do with the fact that we are watching Jewel in the Crown these days (thanks to Netflix), and I can imagine British officers in India putting a few of these away at the end of the day. Anyway, give it a go, and see what you think. I'm interested in your opinion.

1-1/2 oz. gin (I say use Plymouth!)
1/2 oz. triple sec* (Bols, if you can find it)
3/4 oz. freshly squeezed lime juice
2 dashes Angostura Bitters (I suspect that orange bitters would be perfect here, but they are much harder to find)

Put everything in a metal cocktail shaker and shake until the towel you are holding the shaker with sticks. You want this icy, icy, icy.

*I NEVER use Cointreau (or Grand Marnier) as the orange-flavored liqueur in a cocktail. This one originally calls for orange curacao, and I think Bols triple sec is the best of the bunch.
Pour into martini glasses and imbibe. Ummmm.......

The Subject of Dessert

The subject of dessert is very personal. I don’t eat dessert every day, but if I did and could eat anything I wanted, it would be two small (very small - in fact, cookie-scoop size) "dots" of ice cream with either fruit or a cookie. I love ice cream and think the Italians who, apparently, eat gelato for breakfast on scorching days in the summer are brilliant. Nevertheless, I do enjoy eating dessert once a week, usually on Saturday nights, and I do serve dessert any time I have company, so I have gathered a number of dessert recipes that I particularly enjoy to make, to serve, and even sometimes to eat. They are posted on this blog, and I hope you will enjoy them too.

I always have individually wrapped pieces of dark chocolate around, often Dove Dark, which is supposed to be good for you since it has high levels of anti-oxidants. (Amanda Hesser once wrote that a bar of chocolate and a glass of cognac was her favorite dessert.) Walker’s Shortbread in its many forms is delicious and has no fake ingredients – just lots of butter to make it "sandy" and taste great. I also love Pepperidge Farm Bordeaux Cookies and like them most served with Haagen Dazs Coffee Ice Cream. This is especially good with a few whole blueberries tossed over the ice cream. I don’t eat Bordeaux Cookies often - it's too easy to eat a lot of them, but they are hard to beat in terms of taste and crunch if you're talking store-bought cookies. And may I please stick in a plug here for McVities Hob Nobs, a "nobbly" British "biscuit" made from oats. Another great dessert for company is to hand out Haagen Dazs Ice Cream Bars since people tend to eat at someone else’s house what they would not eat at their own. They taste great and are packaged ready to open and hand out. Everyone is like a little kid getting something from the ice cream truck. Just don’t offer choices, or you will have too many to buy and too many hanging around the freezer after your company goes home. Get your favorite bar. I go for vanilla ice cream covered in dark chocolate. (In fact, I could go for one right now despite the fact that it’s before noon, and the winter weather outside is nasty.) The other day I actually saw a Haagen Dazs miniature vanilla ice cream bar covered with almond-studded milk chocolate at the food store - so keep your eyes peeled!

Even though I like dark chocolate and eschew milk chocolate, the exception is a Cadbury Dairy Milk Chocolate Bar, but only one that is actually produced in the U.K. It is really delicious with the most wonderful mouth-feel. Perhaps I like it because I spent so much time in England as a child; I don't know. I can tell you that the Saturday after Deathly Hallows was published, I snagged my favorite British candies, Rowntree Fruit Gums, Rowntree Pastilles, and Smarties, in addition to the aforemention Cadbury bar, at Fairway as I headed out of town, and sat in the backyard upstate reading and eating sweets. It was truly wonderful; a gorgeous weekend, a fabulous book, and eating candy just like a little kid (a little kid whose mother doesn't care about tooth decay). So sometime you should try a Cadbury chocolate bar. You might just like it.

By the way, if you live in or happen to be in New York City, I would recommend that you eat dinner at Pearl Oyster Bar. The only problem is unless you are prepared to wait, you have to get there early. By early I mean be standing outside at 6:00 p.m. when the door opens so you can mill about with all the other people waiting to get in. Eat whatever you like for dinner, it will be good, and – this is why this is in the dessert section - if you want dessert (and I recommend it), go straight for the chocolate mousse, which is the best – the absolute, total, and very best – chocolate mousse I have ever had. Unfortunately, Rebecca Charles, the owner of Pearl, did not put the recipe for this mousse in her lovely cookbook.) However, if it’s summer, skip dessert at Pearl and wander down to Bleecker Street, turn left, and go into Rocco’s Pastry Shop (Rocco’s, NOT the shop next door to Rocco’s, or you will be mad at me) and get a large lemon ice, which will refresh your palate as you wander around the Village walking off your dinner. (Let me admit here that one summer evening Olivia and I ate dinner at Pearl, had the chocolate mousse, and still went to Rocco’s for the lemon ice.) While you’re at Rocco’s, you might as well get some pignoli nut cookies (like macaroons studded with pine nuts), some biscotti regina (sesame seed cookies), and some quaresimale (Lenten almond cookies available here all the time) for when you get home and for when you get up the next morning. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.

Eve, an Apple Vermouth Cocktail

dapted from Paul Clarke via Supper in Stereo Blog

Lately I've been reading a fine blog called Supper in Stereo, where I found this recipe, which Paul Clarke had posted on Serious Eats. The best word to describe this cocktail, originally concocted by Audrey Saunders of the Pegu Club on West Houston Street (formerly of Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle), is lovely. It is a delightful aperitif, very light and appetite-stimulating, which is, of course, the point of a preprandial drink. It would also make a nice gift for those of you who wants to go handmade for Christmas or who wants to bring an unusual host or hostess gift.

With my Benriner mandolin , I sliced the Macintosh apples very thin. Since I didn't have organic specimens, I peeled them, but I would probably leave the peels on organic apples to color the infusion a light pink. I had to use two jars because I didn't have one large enough to hold eight sliced apples and one liter of vermouth. By doing that, I was able to use all eight apples.

Definitely try this.

1 liter Noilly Prat Extra Dry vermouth (make sure it’s a fresh, unopened bottle)
8 Macintosh apples

Cut the apples into v-e-r-y thin slices. Put the slices in a large jar and completely cover the apples with the vermouth. (Save the bottle the vermouth was in, and wash it to use later. ) If you have to use two jars because you don't have one that's big enough, divide the apples between the jars.

Put a top on the jar, and refrigerate it for five days, shaking the jar carefully once a day.

Strain the liquid from the jar through a fine sieve. Put the strained liquid in the washed vermouth bottle, and put the cap on the bottle. Refrigerate.

To serve, pour four ounces of the flavored vermouth into a saucer champagne glass or a martini glass.

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Orangette's Roasted Pears

Adapted by Orangette from A New Way to Cook by Sally Schneider

Well, the warm weather has finally fled, and I'm not sick of the cold yet. In fact, fall going into winter seems all new and crisp again - as it does every year. All things cozy make me smile. Smelling the heat on in the morning; wrapping myself in a soft bathrobe after a hot shower; warming my hands on a steaming cup of tea or coffee; wearing my down jacket, so light yet so warm; pulling my gloves out of the drawer for the first time this year.

And today the post in Orangette, one of the food blogs I read regularly (and if you don't, now is the time because it's perfectly delightful), is about roasting pears. Does that sound like the coziest thing you've heard of in a long time? It does to me. In my Poires Belle Hélène recipe, I quote Nigella as saying about pears, "When they're good, they're wonderful, but I am beginning to think Ralph Waldo Emerson was being optimistic when he wrote, 'there are only ten minutes in the life of a pear when it is perfect to eat'." I'm sure roasting them will circumvent that problem completely.

While I'm on the subject of pears, in case you have not discovered this fragrant liqueur, let me introduce it to you, Belle de Brillet. It is very beautiful and absolutely delicious. Since it is sweet, I find a little goes a long way. It comes in a beautiful pear-shaped bottle, and if you're looking for a gift to bring to someone on Thanksgiving, this would be a great choice.

Roasted pears, here I come.

Addendum

Nick went to the Williams/Amherst game on Saturday to watch the Ephs trounce the Lord Jeffs and then headed off to party with some friends in Vermont. He swung by the farm on the way home for an early Sunday dinner. Since I keep vanilla sugar in the cupboard, these pears were a snap to make. I did core them - after they were cut in half - with an apple corer held at an angle. I used Bosc pears, and they worked fine in the recipe and were mighty good topped with vanilla ice cream that melted and oozed all around, enhancing the already-present vanilla scent. Leftovers were not up to speed, however, so make what you think you will eat (enough for second helpings if you have company). This recipe is a real keeper - comfort food at its best - as good as baked apples, gingerbread, and bread pudding.

To Serve 4

1 cup granulated sugar
1 vanilla bean
4 medium ripe pears (about 1 ½ lb.), preferably Comice or Bartlett but Bosc work too
2 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 8 pieces
Water

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Place the sugar in a small bowl. With a thin sharp knife, split the vanilla bean lengthwise and scrape out the seeds. Add the seeds to the bowl of sugar. Using your fingers, rub the seeds into the sugar until evenly dispersed. (Discard the spent pod, or bury it in a canister of sugar – soon it’ll have a wonderful fragrance, and you can use it in most any recipe.)

Peel the pears and halve them lengthwise. Core them, but leave the stems intact. Place them cut side up in a large baking dish and drizzle them with the lemon juice. Dust liberally with some of the vanilla sugar. (I used ¼ cup.) Dot with butter. Add 2 tablespoons water to the dish.

Slide the dish into the oven, and bake the pears, basting every ten minutes with the pan juices and turning them once or twice, for 40 minutes to 1 hour, or until they are glazed, cooked through, and very tender. The syrup in the dish will thicken and darken as it cooks, but if it evaporates too quickly – before the pears are ready – add a tablespoon or two more water to the dish as needed.

Serve warm, with ice cream, crème fraîche, yogurt, or a glug of fresh cream.

Note from Molly: I could also imagine serving these as a savory side dish to roasted pork or game, if you used some interesting spices and a light hand with the sugar.

Crème Pâtissière

Adapted from The French Chef Cookbook by Julia Child

Cheryl sent over some eclairs this weekend. I tried not to eat mine, but I didn't make it; at least it was worth it. Anyway, it got me to thinking about this recipe, which you can use in eclairs, or profiteroles, or fruit tarts - but fruit tarts are another story. This will keep for 3 to 4 days refrigerated. It may be frozen. Is that the life? French pastry cream in the freezer.

Crème Pâtissière

6 egg yolks
A heavy-bottomed 2-1/2 quart non-reactive saucepan (Because you don't want to scorch the cream in the bottom of the pan, a heavy saucier is good to use because then you don't have a right angle to worry about. I usually use my All Clad stainless 3 quart saucier here, but I just got a Bourgeat copper saucier, and I will try that the next time I make this.)
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 cups hot milk (I don't have to tell you whole milk, do I? It's Julia for heaven's sake.)
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon vanilla extract (the good stuff - I use Madagascar Bourbon Pure Vanilla Extract by Nielsen-Massey, which I keep in the refrigerator) and 1 or 2 tablespoons Amaretto or Frangelico*

Place the egg yolks in the saucepan, and gradually whisk in the sugar. Continue whisking until the mixture is thick, pale yellow, and forms a ribbon. Whisk in the flour, then whisk in the hot milk in a thin stream. Stir slowly and continuously over moderately high heat with a whisk until the mixture thickens. If it turns lumpy (this is scary), beat vigorously to smooth it out. Lower the heat, and continue stirring for several minutes to cook the flour and thicken the cream. Keep stirring over low heat until the cream has thickened.

Remove from heat; beat in the butter and the Amaretto or Frangelico. Put into a clean bowl. Film the top of the cream with a 1/2 tablespoon of Amaretto or Frangelico, whichever you are using, to prevent crusting. Chill.

*The original recipe calls for rum, and it certainly can be used here in addition to anything else you would like to flavor this with. I just usually use Amaretto or Frangelico because almond and hazelnut are flavors I favor.

Jane's Wild Rice

From Jane

Jane and Clarke were here a few weeks ago to check out NYU. Clarke is a junior in high school now, about to turn 17 (gulp), and it turns out that NYU is his school of choice. I mean it's where he wants to go. For sure. Hard as it is to believe, he's that old (and I'm this old), but it will be great to have him here, so I have all ten of my fingers crossed.

I was in Atlanta when Clarke was born, staying with Carolyn and John and finishing my own degree, and still there five months later on the day he was christened, which also happened to be my birthday as well as Jane's birthday AND father's day. Since Jane was in charge of activities, they were many, varied, and started early in the morning, ending late at night. There was a brunch for company, the christening itself, a father's day lunch for John and Lamar (his first father's day), and then a family birthday dinner for Jane and me. Every meal was great, but the food I remember most was dinner, and it included the following wild rice.

This wild rice is really good. Last summer Dan Tuczinski stopped at the farm for dinner on the way home from his office in Albany. I served this with a rotisseried chicken, a tart green salad, and some of Larry Eckhardt's corn that I got at my wonderful local farm stand on Route 22 in Stephentown, which was leftover from lunch and which I creamed for dinner. For some reason the combination of creamed corn with this wild rice took each to a new level of deliciousness. It was scrumptious. I know I will make them together again.

This wild rice heats heats well in the microwave. It sort of gets a little crunchy or something. But if you are going to be tempted to use leftovers cold as a salad, use olive oil instead of butter. But as it really tastes different, try it both ways to see how you like it. I admit I'm partial to the butter.

This isn't a real recipe; it's more of an explanation of what I think Jane did, and the way I make it now.

Get some wild rice - it doesn't have to be really wild, the cultivated stuff will do. Cook as many servings as you want according to package instructions but use chicken broth instead of water. The grains will get swollen and split. This is okay.

The amounts of the rest of the ingredients, of course, depend on how much wild rice you have made.

Toast a handful (or more) of slivered almonds or pecans cut in half lengthwise. Set aside a handful of golden raisins. (You can really improvise, adding whatever dried fruit appeals to you and what goes with what else you are serving.) Slice three to four scallions on the diagonal.

Melt a lump of butter (best if you are going to serve the rice hot) or a glug of oil (if you want to use leftovers to make a salad) in a frying pan or saucier (which I use). The amount of fat, of course, depends on how much rice you have made).

Sauté a small to medium coarsely chopped onion until it becomes translucent. Add the almonds or pecans, wild rice, and dried fruit. Cook until heated through, sprinkle on the sliced scallions, and serve.

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Luisa's Pasta with Ricotta

Adapted from The Wednesday Chef

This summer I found myself buying, and cooking, and eating tomatoes. I ate tomatoes till the cows came home - and beyond that. They were just so good and so fragrant and so pretty (the tomatoes, not the cows) that I couldn't stop. One weekend I got to stay at the farm until Monday morning because we had a meeting closer to there than the City, and I had a small trove of tomatoes left. Precious beautiful tomatoes that I knew wouldn't make it to the next weekend. So about 6:00 a.m. I cut them in chunks, and put them in my largest saucier with some Maldon salt and a few glugs of olive oil, and let them simmer while I did my morning stuff. After about 30 minutes - maybe 45 (but I don't think so) - I put them through the smallest holes of my food mill and then froze them in one-cup increments.

But what, you ask, did I do with them then? In one of Luisa's posts, there's a hidden recipe. It's like a little secret waiting to be discovered. Not only does she divulge the wonder of Pasta Setaro, but in the middle of the post, almost as an aside, she slips in her favorite recipe for pasta with tomato sauce and ricotta. And that's what I did with those tomatoes. I got Pastificio F.LLI Setaro in what has turned out to be the shape I like the most, mezze millerighe, delicious ricotta, and did the following. It's really yummy, and my best new recipe of 2007. This with a small arugula salad and a glass of chilled minerally white wine, is a perfect - perfect - combination. And if it's August, and the tomatoes are so ripe they are about to burst through their skins, it is ethereal.

1 cup of chopped tomatoes that have been cooked with olive oil and Maldon salt to taste for 45 minutes if fresh and 20 minutes if canned and put through a food mill. I can't give you a precise measurement for the olive oil because it depends on how many tomatoes you are cooking. But if I cook six fresh tomatoes, I use two glugs so you get the idea.

Make a chiffonade of basil, using two to four leaves. Set aside. Sauté a sliced clove (or two) of garlic in a little olive oil until fragrant and lightly colored. Add the tomatoes and cook until just heated through (because you've already cooked them). Turn off the heat. Add the basil, the add 8 ounces (for two as a main course and four as a starter) of pasta cooked al dente. Toss to coat with sauce and then stir in a couple of dollops of really good fresh ricotta. Add grated cheese if you like. I would use Romano or Grana Padano here instead of Parmigiana Reggiano. But that would be your choice, of course. And I would recommend adding it sparingly because it's the ricotta that shines here. Luisa says it's bliss, and I have to agree.

Margarita Redux

Adapted from Recipe for One True Margarita from the now unfortunately defunct Ceres & Bacchus Blog





I love the margarita recipe I have already published here. It's delicious; it's smooth; it goes down VERY easily. But I have found a recipe that equals (or maybe even rivals) mine, depending on what kind of drink you're in the mood for. And it's a whole lot easier to make on the spur of the moment.

The week this recipe was posted was very hot in NYC. I was working hard - really slogging along - and as a diversion I checked out the Ceres & Bacchus website. Instead of the office, I was working at Walter's in a room with no A/C, and it was after 5:00 p.m. I got up and made two of these puppies, and I had one, and W had the other. He yelled "Yum." when drinking his, so I'm sure you get the idea.

The original recipe calls for Cointreau, but I have to admit that I'm a triple sec fan. I realize that Cointreau actually IS a triple sec, but it is higher in alcohol content and more syrupy than the triple sec I usually use, which is Bols. I have used Hiram Walker, which is Amy's favorite, and Leroux and lived to tell the tale. Maybe I'm not really a top shelf girl (only kidding; Jimmy Buffet uses Bols triple sec; that's good enough for me). However, for the sake of authenticity I got a small bottle of Cointreau to try. And I'm sticking to my guns; I'm still a Bols Triple Sec fan. But you should try it both ways to see which you prefer.
If this drink isn't sweet enough for you, you can put in half a shot or so of Rose's Lime Juice or simple syrup to up the sweetness, but I prefer it without. And the Cook's Illustrated margarita, which a lot of people swear by, specifies tequila and triple sec in a ratio of 50/50. And that's what I use in my other recipe, so you could try that here if this drink isn't sweet enough for you. But once you start really messing around, it isn't the "true" margarita and not this recipe.

Do try this, and when you do, raise a glass to Ken, brother of Mary at Ceres & Bacchus, whose recipe this is. Thanks, Ken.



For One Drink

½ lime
kosher salt
2 shots tequila
1 shot triple sec
ice

Slice one wedge from the lime half and use it to rim your glass.





Place about ¼ cup of kosher salt in a plate.

Tilt the glass at an angle, and turn to coat the outer rim all around. Ken says that it's better this way, because if you just dip the whole top of the glass in, the salt gets in your drink.

Juice the lime half directly into a stainless steel drink shaker. I use this wooden hand reamer.

Add tequila and the orange liqueur of your choice to the shaker along with some ice cubes. Shake well until the shaker is frosted

then pour the contents into a glass. I use a large wine glass. Put a few ice cubes in your glass along with half of the lime rind you squeezed into the drink, and go to town. Repeat as desired.

When I'm making two drinks, I get everything ready for the second drink in a little carafe.

That way when I pour the first drink from the shaker, I can add the ingredients for the second drink to the shaker right away without the ice cubes in the shaker having time to melt and dilute the drink.

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Ed Giobbi's Chicken Cutlets

Adapted from Eat Right, Eat Well -- The Italian Way by Edward Giobbi

Serves 6

I think Italian food is healthy food, especially if eaten the way Italians in Italy eat - small portions of pasta, small portions of protein, lots of vegetables, and fruit for dessert.  In 1985 Edward Giobbi, an artist who happens to be be a great home cook and who is the person credited with creating the recipe for Pasta Primavera, wrote a cookbook in collaboration with Richard Wolff, M.D., featuring "heart-healthy" recipes. In the following recipe beaten egg whites are used instead of the whole egg to bind the breadcrumbs to the chicken, and the result is very light and delicious, so go ahead and do it. However, I assume the original reason egg yolks are not included in this recipe is to avoid egg yolks.

Eggs are a subject about which I am quite a fanatic. To me an egg is nature's perfect food. Eggs are delicious even when prepared with no added fat, such as poached or boiled. Eggs are really delicious lightly fried in olive oil and served on top of pasta oglio olio. Eggs are delicious scrambled. Oh, forget it, eggs are just plain yummy, and avoiding the yolk, which, granted, has all the fat in an egg, eliminates almost half the protein and all the choline, which is great for your brain and also helps with the proper distribution of the cholesterol. And without any fat in your diet, you cannot absorb vitamins A, D, E, or K. And for goodness sake, don't eat egg white omelets. 

To do without the yolk is not only a culinary loss but a nutritional one as well:  The yolk helps the body digest the white's proteins.  (And we now know that fears of the yolk's cholesterol are largely overblown.)  It's also a refusal to participate in the found poetry of the whole egg.  A yolk and a white are like yin and yang, peanut butter and jelly; two halves that only reach perfection in the pairing.

                                                                  Hugh Garvey, Bon Appetit


If you don't want to eat egg yolks, have a smoothie!

By the way, Ed Giobbi's books are really nice. He illustrates them beautifully, and since he's a home cook, his recipes are very user-friendly, although some of his ingredients (like chicken feet) might be considered fare for the adventurous eater.


Chicken Cutlets
Adapted from Eat Right, Eat Well -- The Italian Way by Edward Giobbi

3 whole chicken breasts, split, skinned, boned, and fat removed
Salt
2 cloves garlic, sliced thin
2 lemons, one for juice and one for garnish
2 egg whites, lightly whipped
Breadcrumbs*
Vegetable oil (I use grapeseed)

Using a meat pounder, flatten the chicken breasts between two sheets of waxed paper. Salt the breasts and lay them in a bowl. Add the sliced garlic and the juice of one of the lemons and marinate in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes and up to 2 hours, but no more as the lemon will start to "cook" the chicken.

Remove the breasts from the marinade, dip them first in the in egg whites and next in the breadcrumbs. You can refrigerate them for a little while at this point.

Heat about ¼-inch oil in a skillet until hot. Cook the cutlets in the oil until brown; turning them once is best, but the proper-cooking police won't come get you if you have to flip them again. Just don't overcook them.

When cooked, blot on paper towels, and serve with pepper and lemon wedges.

*I have never made this recipe with panko, but I can't think of a reason why it wouldn't work well.

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What Happened to Seven?

Well, if you read my blog, you will see that I only posted two entries in June, and here it is July thirtieth - tomorrow's the last day of the month, and not one recipe got posted here during the seventh (my favorite number) month of this year.

First of all, I've been a little down because last July was when my lovely dad Anthony got suddenly and unexpectedly sick, and it only got worse from there, so I have been thinking about him - and missing him - a lot.

Next I have been really swamped at work and swamped at home with a little decorating (but I'm not complaining).

Then came Harry Potter. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix movie, which I saw at midnight the night it was released in a regular theatre in my neighborhood and then again a week later with everyone from work at the IMAX Theatre at Lincoln Square. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I am. My least favorite HP book became my most favorite HP movie. Go figure. Go see it!

And finally, oh finally, 12:01 a.m., July 21, 2007. The release of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The last book. (Hooray. Sob.) I had it in my hands at four minutes after midnight and read it s-l-o-w-l-y, starting Saturday morning and finishing it on Sunday at noon. I LOVED IT. I LOVED IT. I LOVED IT. I cried, and I laughed, and I cried some more, and I exchanged emails with my HP friends, and now I am listening to Jim Dale's recording. (No, not right this second.) I won't tell you - I can't tell you - how many copies of the books in different versions I got to wrap up and put away for posterity. I swear to you, I am a normal person.

Well, almost.

I'll post more recipes in August. See you soon.

Chicken Breasts with Cream Sauce

Adapted from The French Chef Cookbook by Julia Child

Serves 4

When I was young, living in St Louis, and just getting my feet wet in the kitchen, I discovered my first Julia book, The French Chef Cookbook. This is the book that chronicals Julia's first foray into WGBH's television studio in Boston, where she attracted a loyal following, mesmerizing them with her cooking and her recognizable voice charmingly (and sometimes alarmingly) lilting up and down. I know everybody has Mastering, but this book is very nice and a good addition to your library if you don't already have it.  It's actually my favorite Julia book.

This recipe was written by Julia at a time when all the fabulous food we now have at our fingertips was not so readily available, and for the most part, we had to be our own butchers, so there are explicit instructions for how to prepare suprêmes yourself. Read the instructions carefully so you know exactly what a suprême is, and then if your store or your butcher has them already prepared, which is likely, by all means purchase them*; if not, step up to the plate and prepare your own.

A suprême is the skinless and boneless meat from one side of a chicken breast. These are now easily available in any supermarket, but when Julia wrote The French Chef, that was not the case. Julia advises against cooking them in liquid, which would toughen them. In this recipe they are poached in a covered casserole, and although the dish is rich, it is delectable. You will need one suprême per serving.

Preparing Suprêmes for Cooking According to Julia

Take a bone-in half breast from a chicken. Pull off the skin, then cut against the top of the rib cage pulling the flesh from the bone, and remove the meat in one piece. Find the tendon that runs underneath the suprême. You want to remove the tendon, so cut along it for about an inch; then try and grab it with a kitchen towel, and pull it out. Failing this, continue to remove it by cutting it. Trim the meat so it looks neat (I use my kitchen shears for this), and flatten the meat lightly with the side of a chef's knife or meat pounder. If you are not going to use it right away and need to refrigerate it, Julia suggests wrapping it in wax paper as opposed to plastic wrap or aluminum foil.

*Preparing Suprêmes from Boneless Chicken Breasts

Now that plump, high-quality boneless chicken breasts (NOT thin pounded chicken cutlets) are generally available, you can skip the step above and use them. To make a boneless breast into a suprême, you need to take a sharp knife - I use my 8-inch chef's knife - and cut the extra flap of chicken off. (I freeze these pieces to use either in chicken soup or poached for chicken salad when I have enough of them.)  If the piece you are left with, has one part that is a lot thicker, that can also be cut off using your chef's knife, and the piece left over can either be saved or discarded depending on how large it is.

Suprêmes de Volaille a Blanc
Adapted from The French Chef Cookbook by Julia Child

Cooking the Suprêmes

4 suprêmes
½ teaspoon lemon juice
¼ teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons butter
A heavy, covered flameproof casserole about 10 inches in diameter
A round of waxed paper cut to fit the casserole
A hot serving dish

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Rub the suprêmes with drops of lemon juice, and sprinkle lightly with salt. In the casserole, heat butter until foaming. Quickly roll the suprêmes in the butter, lay the waxed paper over them, cover the casserole, and place in the oven. The length of time it takes to cook the suprêmes depends on how thick they are. Check them after 6 minutes by pressing them with the tip of your finger; they are done when they feel lightly springy and resilient. If still soft, return to the oven for a minute or two more. Remove the suprêmes to a warm dish; cover, and make the sauce, which will take 2 to 3 minutes.

Wine and Cream Sauce 

¼ cup chicken or beef stock
¼ cup port, Madeira, or dry white vermouth
1 cup heavy cream
Salt and lemon juice

Pour the stock and the wine into the casserole with the cooking butter, and boil down rapidly over high heat until the liquid is syrupy. Add the cream, and boil until lightly thickened. Season to taste with salt and drops of lemon juice. Pour the sauce over the suprêmes and serve.

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Late Bottle Vintage Port

Licorice Ice Cream

Adapted from A Sweet Quartet by Fran Gage

The "sweet quartet" being sugar, almonds, eggs, and butter.

Makes 1 quart

This is my first post using my brand new MacBook. I'm very excited to have it; at the same time, as user-friendly as it is, I am slowly wending my way around MacWorld and trying to learn how to use it effectively. So far I have lost my Blogger menu bar and can't link or change font sizes, and the spellcheck isn't working right either. But I will master it at some point and hope to have fun doing so. Chris, if you have any suggestions, let me know. I know O isn't reading my blog while she's in London.

In case you don't know, I'm kind of a licorice junkie. By licorice, of course, I mean the black stuff. The red stuff isn't really licorice, is it? I don't know how many people reading this also love licorice. I know Mandi does. I think Marsha does. I know Dorie Greenspan does. But Dorie Greenspan isn't exactly reading my blog. I have posed the theory that love (or even like) of licorice is on a gene because there seem to be whole countries made up of people who eat licorice - for instance Holland and Australia. But no one seems particularly interested in this theory. (I have the same theory about cilantro, because to some people it tastes delicious - I'm in that group - and to some people it tastes like soap - Walter is in that group. But that's a whole different topic.)

I'm thinking that I would like to come up with a variation of creme brulee that is licorice - or at least anise - flavored, so I'm pondering how to do this. Maybe using an anise-flavored liqueur like Sambuca or infusing it with star-anise, a la Jean-Georges. I'm also pondering who will eat it with me, but, I'll worry about that later.

This ice cream is lovely and delicate tasting with a delightful soft buff color. It reminds me of the licorice ice cream I had sent to my room at the Hotel Lutetia in Paris when Marsha, Jane, and I stayed there in 2006. The taste is so elusive, I'm not sure you would even recognize it as being licorice. But you might not be able to trust me about this.

Instead of following the instructions given below, you can adapt the no-fail Miracle Ice Cream Technique from Stephanie at La Cuisine with confidence.

1½ cups (12 ounces) whole milk
2 licorice-root tea bags (I use Yogi Tea)
⅔ cup (4½ ounces) granulated sugar
4 large egg yolks
1½ cups (12 ounces) heavy whipping cream

Put the milk and tea bags in a medium saucepan, and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat, and steep for 15 minutes. Press down on the tea bags, then remove them from the pan. Bring the infused milk back to a boil.

While the milk is reheating, whisk the sugar with the egg yolks in a bowl. In a steady stream and constantly whisking so you don't scramble the yolks, pour the hot milk into the yolks. Return this custard to the saucepan, and cook it over low heat, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon until the custard thickens, and coats the spoon. You know you are at the right point, if you remove the spoon from the pan, and when you run a finger over the spoon, the custard stays separate (meaning the line you make with your finger remains). It will register 160 degrees on an instant-read thermometer. Do not let the custard boil.

Pour the custard through a fine sieve into a clean bowl, and stir in the cream. Put this bowl into an ice bath - either a larger bowl filled with ice or a sink filled with ice. When the custard is cool, remove the bowl from the ice, and cover it with plastic wrap. Refrigerate the custard for a minimum of 5 hours or overnight.

At this point, when the custard is cold, follow the directions that came with your ice cream maker to turn it into ice cream.

Pesto

Adapted from Make It Easy in Your Kitchen by Laurie Burrows Grad

I have to admit it. I'm not in love with pesto, although I know it's Peggy's favorite pasta sauce. Maybe it's the way most Americans use it. In Italy it's not just plopped on a pile of pasta. Instead, it lazily coats pasta and green beans and potatoes, which sort-of meld together. But that combination doesn't do it for me either. Summer is coming and with it tons of beautiful basil, and the temptation to make pesto, which sounds so good and smells so good, sneaks back every time. I feel like I should like it. Having said all this, there are some things I like to do with pesto. I like to stir a little into soup, especially Marcella's minestrone served at room temperature in the summer; I like to stir a little into some pasta sauces; I like to stir a little into rice pilaf. In other words, it's a nice condiment to have hanging around to use sparingly. That's why I have a recipe for it. So here it is.

By the way, the recipe says it can be frozen, but I once read Paula Wolfert's recipe in Mediterranean Cooking and seem to remember she recommends freezing it before adding the cheese so I can't really help you out on this. I also seem to remember that Paula Wolfert puts heavy cream in her pesto (I might be wrong about this so don't arrest me), which seems like cheating - kind of like putting heavy cream in spaghetti carbonara or aoili. It generally makes it better, but if the authentic recipe police find out, they come and take you away.

1 cup tightly packed fresh basil leaves, stems removed, washed and dried
½ cup best quality extra-virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons freshly grated Parmesan cheese or a combination of Parmesan and Romano if you prefer the sharpness of the Pecorino Romano
2 tablespoons pine nuts
3 small cloves garlic, peeled
1 tablespoon freshly chopped parsley
½ teaspoon salt or to taste (remember the cheese is salty)
¼ teaspoon freshly ground white pepper (don't ask me why white, but what the hey - I have to use it sometimes since I keep it in a grinder on my counter)

Place all the ingredients in the bowl of a food processor and process, turning machine on and off until well blended and smooth.

Place whatever you're not using right away in a container with a thin, thin, thin layer of olive oil covering the pesto, and refrigerate until ready to use. However, if you know you're going to freeze it, don't put in the cheese until you are ready to use it.

Oven Fries

Adapted from Joie de Vivre by Robert Arbor and Katherine Whiteside

Serves 4

Since this book seems to be staying in my head, I'm going to pass another recipe from it along to you. The author credits his cousin Nicole for this recipe, and I think you'll like it a lot. I do recommend that you check this book out for yourself. It's very pretty, and so far all the recipes I've tried from it really work, and there are a lot more I still want to try.

These potatoes are a great substitute for French fries (although the French don't call them that).

This is totally unrelated to this recipe, but Ann Patchett (Ann Patchett who wrote Bel Canto, a wonderful book) wrote this piece on Gourmet magazine's blog about why it's better to eat at home. I couldn't agree more so check it out to see her seven good reasons.

10 garlic cloves, 5 mashed and 5 whole
¾ cup olive oil
Salt and pepper
Rosemary
6 Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and kept in water to preserve color (Obviously, if you're going to cook them immediately, don't put them in water. Whatever you do, pat them dry before you put them in the olive oil mixture.)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Cut the peeled potatoes in half lengthwise, and make 3 to 4 wedges from each half. Mix the garlic, olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary in a bowl. Put the potatoes in the bowl and toss to coat with the olive oil mixture. Arrange the potato wedges on a sheet pan, one by one so that the rounded part is on the pan, and cook in the oven until tender and brown, about 30 to 35 minutes.

Immediate Gratification Jam

Adapted from Joie de Vivre by Robert Arbor and Katherine Whiteside

This is a happy book by a Frenchman who owns a few darling cafés, Le Gamin, in New York City. In it he describes Simple French Style for Everyday Living. It's wonderful to dream about this idyllic way to live. If you're reading this post, you obviously like - or love - to cook, so you've probably incorporated at least some of his ideas into your life already. If you get this book, and I encourage you to do so, you will find a few more.

Now that spring has finally sprung, and the sky is clear, and the air is fresh (even in NYC), and the trees are blooming at last, we don't have long to wait for bursting-with-flavor fresh summer fruits and vegetables to be available at farm stands everywhere.

This is a lovely simple recipe to have up your sleeve as strawberries and raspberries and blueberries appear, glistening temptingly in their little baskets. This jam is not preserved in airtight jars with wax seals. It's completely fresh, and you only make enough to last about a week because it keeps well in the refrigerator for that long. (And this is a perfect time to use the French jelly jars that we all have in our cupboards with those red plastic tops that sit in the drawer because we use the jars for drinking.) It is delicious on toasted French bread that has been buttered as lightly or liberally as your taste and waist allow. The crunch and the butter and the sweet fruit is a delirious combination that you should enjoy while you can. Then next winter you will dream about it longingly again and making it will become a summer tradition.
Strawberries, raspberries or blueberries*
Aproximately 1 to 2 cups sugar, depending on how much fruit you use

If the strawberries are large, cut them into four pieces; if small, cut into two pieces. The blueberries and raspberries do not need to be cut. Put the fruit in a bowl and toss with sugar until all the fruit is coated with sugar. Put the fruit in a saucepan. Add water to halfway up the fruit in the pan. Bring to a boil uncovered. Lower heat to a simmer immediately, stirring occasionally.

When the fruit has turned liquid, taste and add more sugar if it's not sweet enough. Once the extra sugar melts into the fruit, the jam is ready. It still looks runny but will firm up enough after it has been refrigerated.

*My favorite store-bought jam is a Swedish preserve, Queens Blend by Hafi, which I get at Ikea. It's made from red raspberries (remember, there are black raspberries) and wild blueberries and is as delicious a combination as I can imagine. So mix the fruits mentioned above at your whim.

Hollandaise Sauce

Adapted from Appetite by Nigel Slater

If you're not familiar with Nigel Slater, you should be. Now that his newest book The Kitchen Diaries:A Year in the Kitchen With Nigel Slater has received such good press here, more and more people on this side of the pond are finding out about him. The book that this recipe comes from is a one-of-a-kind book. It's about how to satisfy your cravings without slavishly following recipes. It is indeed about satisfying your own appetite. It's a wonderful book to have even if you have to order it from Amazon.uk.

This sauce, which is season-appropriate now as spring asparagus is crying out for it, is truly glorious even if it does seem like the scariest one to make. The real key is to heat it gently while constantly whisking and not letting it get too hot. This might sound like a contradiction, but you'll see, it's not. You will need a round-bottomed, heatproof bowl (I use stainless steel) and a saucepan for it to sit snugly on, as well as a plump balloon whisk. Approach this task with infinite patience and an absence of trepidation. Remember, this is supposed to be fun. And it is true that the proof of the pudding is in the eating. You will be well rewarded once you have mastered this sauce.

3 extra-large eggs (I don't really have to tell you free-range, do I?)
1 cup butter (This really IS 2 sticks. Don't get crazy, and don't tell Dr. Mehmet Oz. Get over it. As Nigel Slater says "We are talking heaven here.")
Half a lemon (maybe a little less if it's really juicy)
Salt

Separate eggs yolks from whites. Put the the yolks into a heatproof bowl. You can use a metal bowl or glass bowl. I usually use metal because it's light, and I can lift it on and off the saucepan to regulate the heat. (Refrigerate the whiles if you have another recipe you will use them for, but I hope it's not an egg white omelet, which, in my opinion, would not be an omelet at all.)

Fill a saucepan with water halfway up, and put it over a moderate heat. Sit the bowl with the yolks in it snugly on top of the saucepan, making sure it doesn't touch the water, then add a small splash of water to the eggs, and stir gently for a few seconds.

Cut the butter into twelve pieces. Add four pieces of butter to the egg yolks, and whisk firmly but slowly until the egg yolks have taken up all the butter. Slowly whisk in the rest of the butter. You will need slightly less than the two whole sticks.

Still whisking, squeeze in the lemon juice. The color should be a lovely light yellow. Add a little salt. Remove the saucepan from the heat.

The sauce will keep warm over the water for half an hour or so, but whisk it occasionally. This is the point at which it may curdle. No one is immune. But as Nigel Slater says, "It is worth the sweat."

If the sauce does break, throwing an ice cube in and whisking like crazy will work nine out of ten times.

This can be made in advance and kept warm in a Thermos.

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Lamb Chops in Parmesan Batter

Adapted from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan

For 6 servings

This recipe makes the most succulent lamb chops you will ever eat. The butcher at Lobel's actually asked me for the recipe the third time I had him trim the chops for me. You need to use single ribs trimmed the way they would be for a rack of lamb, which means the corner bone and backbone have been removed, leaving just the rib, and the rib bone has been "Frenched," which means the fat has been removed from the bone. Then the eye of each chop should be flattened. At Lobel's the butcher uses a cleaver held sideways instead of a meat pounder. I assume you could do this yourself if you bought a rack of lamb and sliced it into single rib chops, Frenched them, and flattened them, but I have never done this myself.

To be perfect, instead of grating the parmigiano-regianno cheese myself, I like to use cheese I have bought and had grated at DiPalo's. It's more powdery when they do it than when I use the Microplane to grate it myself, which makes lovely little shreds - what I normally want, but not here. I probably should get my own grater in Little Italy, but I have never gotten around to it. Aunt Rita had one that she (sigh) sold for 50 cents at a garage sale. What was she thinking?

I like to serve these with side dishes that are good cold or at room temperature so you can plate the chops as soon as they're done, and tuck in. Mushrooms with garlic, olive oil, and parsley are good; so are fried red peppers; and, of course, a tart green salad. If you began the meal with a 2-ounce serving of pasta per person as a starter (right now I'm thinking a sauce with tomatoes and anchovies would be good, but that's up to you), you don't need another starch.

I made these for Herb one night, and he told me he would have wanted Lee to cook them once a week. I can't say I eat them that often, but they are definitely one of my favorite recipes.

12 single rib lamb chops, partly boned and flattened as described above
½ grated parmigiano-reggiano cheese, spread on a plate
2 eggs, beaten lightly put into a deep dish through a fine sieve
1 cup fine, dry, unflavored bread crumbs, spread on a plate
Vegetable oil
Salt

Turn the chops on both sides in the grated cheese, pressing so the cheese sticks to the meat. Shake off any excess cheese. Dip the chops into the beaten egg, letting excess egg flow back into the dish. Turn the chops in the bread crumbs, coating both sides, and shake off the excess. (So you can see that this is essentially a bound breading, using cheese in place of flour.)

You can prepare the chops up to this point as much as 3 hours in advance if you refrigerate them; just remember to return the meat to room temperature before cooking it.

Pour enough oil into a skillet to come ¼ inch up the sides, and turn on the heat to medium. When the oil is very hot, put as many chops into the pan as will fit without crowding. As soon as one side forms a nice, golden crust, turn each chop and as soon as the second side has formed a crust, transfer to a warm platter, and sprinkle each side lightly with salt. They should be thin enough that they will be cooked at this point; if not, you have to cook a little longer; but you will get the hang of this after you have done it onc time. The chops are so tiny to begin with, it's easy to get them thin; it's not like trying to smash a fat chicken breast into a thin cutlet. When all the chops have been cooked this way, serve immediately.

Bruschetta - Real Garlic Bread

Adapted from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan

For 6 slices of bread

This is the real deal, not some buttery bread, which would never be served at table in Italy. It's soooooo good, you will find that you hardly ever make enough because people can't stop eating it.

3 or 4 plump garlic cloves
6 slices good, thick-crusted bread, ½-inch thick
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt

Cut the garlic cloves in half, and peel them. Toast or grill the bread to a golden brown on both sides. While the bread is still hot, rub one side of each slice with the cut side of a half clove of garlic. Drizzle olive oil over the garlicky side of each slice of bread, and grind or sprinkle salt lightly over each piece.  Serve while still warm. These pieces of bread will disappear as fast as you serve them.

The Tomato Version

All the ingredients given in the recipe above plus 6 ripe tomatoes
8 basil leaves

Wash the tomatoes, split them in half lengthwise, and remove as many seeds as you can with the tip of a small knife. Dice the tomatoes into ½-inch cubes.

Wash and dry the basil leaves, then tear or cut them with your kitchen shears into small pieces.

After rubbing the hot grilled bread with garlic as directed in the recipe above, put some of the diced tomatoes on top, sprinkle with basil, lightly drizzle each slice with olive oil, and sprinkle lightly with salt.

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Mushrooms with Garlic

Adapted from Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking by Marcella Hazan

Serves 6
I guess it's fair to say that if I could only have one cookbook, this would be it. I could eat out of it forever. These mushrooms are delicious and can be served hot, warm, or at room temperature, which makes them fabulous as part of an antipasto platter. I also love to serve them on top of a steaming bowl of Progresso Lentil Soup (not the low fat one, the original one) to which I have optionally stirred in a tablespoon or so of sour cream. This makes a great winter lunch with basic bruschetta (real garlic bread) and a tart green salad and a glass of minerally white wine.

To make this dish even more delicious and especially wine friendly, at the end of cooking add a very small glug of white truffle oil. Turn off the heat, and stir. The fragrance is divine, and it is yum.

1½ pounds white cultivated mushrooms
1½ teaspoons garlic, chopped
½ cup extra virgin olive oil
Salt
3 tablespoons parsley, chopped

Clean mushrooms carefully with a paper towel. I don't wash them because they soak up too much water. If you like, you can slice off and discard a thin disk from the end of the mushroom stem, but I often don't bother to do this. Cut the mushrooms with the stems still attached lengthwise into 1/4 inch thick slices.

Use a frying pan that can hold the mushrooms without crowding. Add olive oil to the frying pan, and heat it to medium. Add the mushrooms, and turn the heat up a little. Cook, stirring occasionally, with a wooden spatula.

When the mushrooms have absorbed the oil, add salt, and turn the heat down to low. As soon as the mushrooms release their juices, turn the heat up a little again, and cook those juices away for 4 to 5 minutes, stirring frequently.

Add the garlic, and cook, stirring occasionally, until the garlic turns golden, being careful not to burn it or it will be bitter. Add the chopped parsley, add salt to taste,* and stir. (*This is the point at which you might want to add a tiny glug of white truffle oil, just before you turn off the heat. It's tastes very earthy and smells divine.)