Pizzelles II

I can’t believe it’s been four years since the pungent smell of anise permeated the house and screamed, “It’s Christmas.” Time flies when you’re having fun.

The ex got the pizzelle iron in the divorce. Good for him. It was perfectly seasoned after years of holiday cookie making.

I remember him standing at the counter in his red sweatpants pulled too high with a T-shirt tucked in making two pizzelles at a time for hours on end – a job not for this gourmandette. He gave them away as gifts, but kept a few to enjoy for weeks after the holiday.

But it was the smell of the anise hitting me in the face when I came home from work or shopping that I missed most, so I broke down and bought a new pizzelle iron. After all, why should he be the only one have the odiferous joy of a Christmas with pizzelles and a live tree.

Nix the live tree thing – too much work. It’s debatable if it’s good or bad for the environment to take a perfectly happy evergreen, chop it down, decorate it for a few weeks and then toss it out for the recyclers to pick up and dump in the ocean to become a fish habitat or on the beach to create a sand dune. Sand dunes? Don’t go there – I’ve had my fill of duneboggling.

So, instead of one live, messy tree, we have two fake ones. The 9-footer is covered with colored lights and Disney characters, while the 7-footer that used to be the “love” tree, now has white lights and elegant ornaments. I’m still looking for someone to take all the heart ornaments collected over the 30-year affair off my hands.

I digress, back to the kitchen.

So, I tried out my new pizzelle iron this weekend and it worked perfectly with no sticking. I still have to master a tablespoonful of the sticky batter so the cookies don’t flow out the side of the iron.

I tried two recipes, one that was my inspiration for buying the iron that was posted by my former editor who writes her own humorous food blog – Jersey Girl in the Kitchen. The other by the guy who used to fix stuff when it broke.

I hate to admit it, but the latter was better. Nothing great comes easy though. It required a trip to three pharmacies to find anise oil. Extract just doesn’t cut it for a real wannabe-Italian.

So, after hours of backbreaking pizzelling, which included licking batter off my fingers and numbing my taste buds, I now have to leave the house and come back in to smell Christmas.

Pizzelles
4 eggs
2 1/2 C all-purpose flour
1 1/2 C sugar
1 T anise oil
1 C margarine, melted (do not use butter)
4 tsp. baking powder
1 T anise seeds
Beat eggs and gradually add sugar.  Beat until smooth.  Add cooled margarine, anise oil and seeds.  Sift flour and baking powder.  Blend into egg mixture till smooth.  Dough will be sticky enough to be dropped by spoon.  Makes about 40 pizzelles.

Vegetarian Moussaka

Sorry it's been so long.  I got a life, sort of.

A few friends asked for this recipe after I posted a photo of it on my FB page.  It was adapted from a recipe that appeared in one of those colorful foreign cookbooks you pick up at the Borders discount section.  The words for the ingredients are in French: aubergines for eggplant, courgettes for zucchini, etc., but eventually you learn the language.

Instead of frying the vegetables, I roasted them for extra flavor, and used less butter for the bechamel sauce than the recipe recommended.  I didn't have lentils so I used a well-drained can of lentil soup in a pinch.  It worked just fine.  

The recipe is light and delicious and could feed six or eight for dinner.  Would be great on a buffet table.

Vegetarian Moussaka

1 large waxy potato very thinly sliced

2 large eggplant sliced 1/4" thick

2 large zucchini sliced on the diagonal

2 large yellow squash sliced on the diagonal

3 multi-colored peppers (green, yellow, red, orange) sliced lengthwise

1/2 C. olive oil (separated)

2 T "Simply Organic Grilling Seasons Vegetable Seasoning" (or your favorite blended grilling seasoning)

1 bunch scallions sliced

3 large cloves garlic chopped

2 14 oz. cans chopped tomatoes with juice

2 T tomato paste

1 14 oz. can lentils

2 T fresh oregano chopped

2 T fresh Italian parsley chopped

salt & pepper

8 oz. feta cheese crumbled

Bechamel sauce

3 T butter

4 T all-purpose flour

2 1/2 C milk

4 oz. Parmesan cheese grated

1/2 tsp. nutmeg grated

salt & pepper

2 eggs beaten

Fry the potatoes in some olive oil until they start to brown.  Set aside to cool.

Arrange eggplant, squashes and peppers on separate baking sheets.  Sprinkle with seasoning, salt, pepper and olive oil.  Roast at 400-degrees for about a half-hour or until they start to brown, turning at least once. 

Saute scallions in olive oil for 3 minutes, add garlic, saute a minute more.  Add tomatoes, tomato paste, lentils, herbs salt and pepper.  Simmer for about 15 minutes while veggies are roasting.

Melt butter, add flour, whisking to blend.  Gradually add milk, whisking until smooth and creamy.  Add Parmesan, salt and nutmeg.  Stir to blend.  Off heat, let sit for 5 minutes before gradually streaming in the eggs while stirring.

Grease a lasagna pan with olive oil.  Layer veggies, feta and tomato/lentil sauce in this order: Eggplant, sauce, feta, peppers, potatoes, sauce, feta, summer squash, sauce, feta, zucchini.  Press to compact.

Pour bechamel over the top and bake at 350-degrees for 45-minutes to an hour until the bechamel starts to brown.

Remove from oven and cool 15 minutes to half-hour before serving.

Would be great served with crusty French bread and a salad made with spicy greens.

Yummy.

Marinara sauce in a pinch

Ok, I relented - gave up on the constant nagging, "You never cook what I like," and made my son some lasagna.  Alas, he didn't even come home to eat it.  Of course, he would have preferred meat lasagna, but I put the veggies for me - it's good to be the queen.  Chopped up and sauteed some frozen spinach that's been sitting in the freezer for months, shredded and sauteed the last of the summer squash, and layered it with Barilla no-boil pasta.  Easy is my middle name.  Well, not really, but that's another long story worthy of its own post.

On the way home from protesting corporate greed, I stopped at Shoprite to pick up a few things.  I got the idea about making lasagna because the ricotta and shredded cheeses (sorry Peter, not yours) were on sale.  It was late in the day, and my culinary juices were at their usual Saturday low, so I opted for a jarred brand of marinara sauce.  Because my budget is lean - somewhere near where I'd like my body to be - I scanned the brands for price and checked the ingredients.  Most of the name brands were reasonable, but there's the sugar thing.  I don't know if the adding sugar to pasta sauce (gravy) thing runs in your family, but it didn't run in mine.  Ewe!

Anyway, I decided to try the store brand because it was a larger size than the others - I don't know about you, but I never have enough sauce when I make a lasagna and always have to open a second jar, the leftover of which usually develops a nice thick green mold before I might have the opportunity to use it again -  it was only $1.79, and voila, no sugar.

All I had to do was quickly assemble the dish, and licking the spoon (admit it, you lick the spoon and stir again too) was surprised at the tangy, tomatoey flavor.  Anyway, because I had the extra sauce, I made the lasagna with extra layers - it was a tall lasagna - and it turned out great.

Please don't tell anyone in my family that I used jarred sauce - I would never live it down.  I make my own, it's great, but I still can't seem to duplicate my big sister's marinara.  She's not the one considered the greatest cook; some people just have the knack.  Like Nanny (my grandmother) making soup.

Anyway, I'm not providing the recipe here; everyone has their own.  But, you might want to try the marinara the next time you Shoprite.

Tuna salade Nicoise

The first time I had this dish was about 15 years ago at a luncheon with my big sister at John Wanakmaker's in Philadelphia.  It was not at the Crystal Room where my grandmother often took me for soup and sandwich lunches during our very special shopping sprees, but a small cafe overlooking the mezzanine.  It was a perfect lunch that brought back lots of memories of Nanny and how she treated me "special."

I was the tallest and skinniest of Erma's five girls, so much so that I couldn't find proper fitting clothes anywhere but the pre-teen shop at JW.  Boy, they don't make department stores like that anymore.  The service was impeccable.  Older women with blue hair waited on you hand and foot, and brought clothing in your size right to your dressing room.  After a few times going shopping with Nanny, she grew confident in my ability to pick out just the right outfit, and always off the sale rack.  She'd often let me go shopping alone and let me use her "charge plate."

Of course, my sisters were very jealous and often called me Nanny's favorite, or more affectionately, "Nanny's Little Skinny Witch."  Note to sisters: I always paid her back.

I remember every outfit I purchased there like it was yesterday.  The red plaid woolen slacks and black turtleneck sweater, and the Navy blue woolen hipsters with the big thick patent leather belt and pink striped boatneck top that I wore to the Mummer's Parade with my white Correge boots.  Very chic in the 60s.

What was even better is that in a household where we often wore each other's clothes, mine were always too narrow for my sisters to fit into.  Consequently, they never got BO stains and lasted a real long time.

Anyway, tuna Nicoise has become a new staple dinner for me since I became a pescetarian more than a year ago.  I hope you enjoy it.

Tuna salad Nicoise

1 lb green beans, cleaned, steamed till crisp tender, or 1 pkg frozen whole green beans, defrosted and drained on paper towels

10-12 fingerling potatoes, steamed or microwaved, sliced in half lengthwise

1 can chunk white tuna

2 hard cooked eggs, whites and yolks chopped separately, or sliced or quartered

10-12 kalamata olives

2 T capers

1 large tomato cut into eighths, or cherry or grape tomatoes

4 whole anchovies, optional

Dressing

1 clove garlic, finely chopped

1 lemon, juiced

1 tsp Dijon mustard

1 T fresh rosemary, finely chopped

Coarse ground salt

Ground pepper

¼ C extra virgin olive oil

This is a lovely composed salad with lots of options.  You can use fresh or frozen beans, any type of waxy potato, fresh or your favorite canned tuna, sliced or chopped eggs, large or cherry, grape tomatoes.  The constant is that it should be beautifully composed and lovely to look at.

After arranging ingredients on a serving platter, whisk together the juice of one lemon and other ingredients until well blended and thickened.  Pour over salad and serve with crusty French baguette, creamery butter and a crisp glass of French wine.

Serves 2 for dinner or 4 sides

Red Carpet Antipasto

One summer, my husband asked me to make something for a gathering of his posse.  At the time, he worked in a gourmet restaurant at one of the Atlantic City casinos.  His friends were jaded with all the fabulous foods they served, so I had to come up with something that would impress.

In retrospect, I fittingly emptied my refrigerator and pantry for the dog.

What I came up with was a humongous antipasto just like my mom used to make when she cooked at Curly's.

Somehow, it became our Oscar night tradition.  Although, it was always a well anticipated dinner - one we both looked forward to just once a year - the Chianti always got to him, and I wound up watching the Academy Awards presentations all by my lonesome, year after year after year.

That's just as well, though.  He really didn't appreciate the beads, sequins and diamonds - a nice Hugo Boss tux, maybe.

Alas, the tradition continues.  I share my giant antipasto with the kid and his girl, but still wind up watching the Oscars all alone - just like I like it.

This year, I'll start with a nice martini!

Red Carpet Antipasto

4 C romaine chopped

2 C arugula (roquette)

2 medium tomatoes, quartered

2 large carrots, quartered lengthwise, cut in half

1 small cucumber, sliced into rounds

2 large stalks celery, quartered lengthwise, cut in half

12 stalks crisp cook asparagus

1 can tuna packed in oil

1 small jar red roasted peppers

1 small jar marinated artichokes

1 small can garbanzo beans

1 small jar marinated mushrooms

1 small jar whole baby beets

4 hard boiled eggs, quartered

8 small cooked fingerling potatoes cut in half lengthwise

6 gherkin pickles, cut in half lengthwise

4 oz. fresh mozzarella cheese, cut into 1-inch squares

4 oz. sharp provolone, cut into 1-inch squares

12 Gaeta olives

12 green olives

For the meat lovers, add:

¼ lb sliced hard salami, fold in half, curl into fans, and/or

¼ lb finely sliced prosciutto, gathered into clumps

Course ground salt

Course ground black pepper

Extra virgin olive oil

Red wine vinegar

Spread romaine and arugula on the bottom of a very large platter.  Place tuna in center.  Arrange carrots, celery, asparagus, tomatoes, and potatoes around tuna.  Fill in the gaps with the remaining condiments.  Serve with toasty garlic bread and/or sesame breadsticks.  Serve, salt, pepper, vinegar and oil on the side.  Leftovers hold in the fridge for a few days.

Serves 6-8

Feast of the 7 Fishes

OK, so I'm not a vegetarian at all.  I found out recently that I'm actually a pescetarian.  I eat fish.

It's not Christmas without baccala and broccoli rabe.  When I was a kid, my Uncle Freddy would show up at our house once a year on Christmas Eve to enjoy my mom's version, which has survived the ages.  It was always a great night, that is, until Uncle Freddy decided to ask you your nationality - God forbid if you were Jewish.  "I asked you where your people are from, not your religion," he would say.

My sister Yvette has taken the Feast of the Seven Fishes to new extremes since mom passed away.  It used to be a simple family gathering, but "E" knows everyone in the world and has been inviting them all to the feast for the past few years.  One year, she got carried away and made about $1,000 worth of fishes, 13 different kinds in all.  After cooking for days on end, she justified her extravagance by saying it didn't have to be seven, just an uneven number.  Italians like to make things up.  Most don't even know where the number seven came from.  Could it be the seven hills of Rome, the seven virtues, the seven deadly sins?  Who knows?  Nobody really cares.  It's just a tradition that can never be broken.

Hopefully, since everyone's broke this year, it will be a more reserved gathering.  She told me on the phone yesterday that she was sticking to seven this year and that I could bring the shrimp.

Well, I couldn't wait until Friday night.  I got a jump on Christmas Eve by making my two favorites, one a little different than the traditional Italian-styled stuffed calamari E makes.  Instead of a red sauce, I cook mine in white wine, the French Marseillaise way.  E would like to kill me for that.

I must admit that after 30 years of marriage - with me cooking the festive meal at my own home for my neighbors for several of those years - I couldn't bear to see my ex actually spend the holiday without the fishes - even though he's Irish - although some days I would like to see him sleep with them.  So, I will prepare a little care package and send it over with the kid.  The kid, by the way, doesn't eat anything green, healthy or wholesome.  He's a WaWa man.

These are the two recipes I made.



Baccala with Broccoli Rabe

1 pound of semi-dried salted cod (in box or package, not the fully dried shoe leather kind)
3 C water

4 large cloves garlic, chopped

1/2 C olive oil
2 bunches of broccoli rabe
1 small can tomato sauce
Salt, pepper, red pepper flakes

Place baccala in a bowl of water and place in refrigerator for a day or two, changing water several times. Place baccala in sauce pan covered with water, cover and boil for two minutes.  Off heat and let stand until cooled.

Rinse broccoli rabe and remove large stems, cut large leaves in half.  Heat oil in large saute pan, add garlic, saute for a minute or two.  Add broccoli rabe and a little water, pepper flakes, salt and pepper.  Cover and steam for about 10 minutes or until broccoli rabe is just tender.  Do not overcook the broccoli rabe!  Flake the baccala and add it to the greens.  Add tomato sauce.  Adjust seasoning.  Leftovers make a great sandwich, heated on hard roll with a slice or two of melted provolone - a real elbow licker.


Stuffed Calamari a la Marseillaise

2 pound package of frozen, cleaned squid, thawed
4 T olive oil, separated
1 large onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
1 14-ounce can of petite cut tomatoes, drained
2 C fresh breadcrumbs
2 T fresh parsley, chopped
Salt, pepper
1 C dry white wine
1 C water, if needed
1 bay leaf

Finely mince tentacles, set aside.  Saute onion in 2 tablespoons of olive oil until golden, add garlic, tentacles and tomatoes.  Season with salt and pepper, and cook five minutes.  Off heat.  Add breadcrumbs and parsley to make stuffing.  Stuff squid bodies with stuffing using a pastry bag, seal with toothpick.  Saute bodies in olive oil until slightly browned.  Add white wine and bay leaf, cover and simmer for 25 minutes.  Add water as needed if sauce gets too thick.   Remove toothpicks when serving so no one gets injured - remember George Peppard?

Adapted from the New Doubleday Cookbook.  Thanks Uncle Sam.

Holiday Baking with NPR

Starting to get into the holiday spirit.  I love NPR, especially the hour-long interviews with interesting people.  Here's one I think you'll enjoy that explores holiday baking recipes.
"A Delicious Dish."  MA only.  Enjoy.

Saturday Night Live - NPR's Delicious Dish - Schweddy Balls - Video - NBC.com