Personalities Archives - Spoon & Suitcase

Spring Gardening: Embracing Nature’s Colors

Posted on April 2, 2025April 2, 2025 by Mary

Spring’s moody weather—we finally had rain—and the emergence of color pops in my garden gently remind me to stop and admire the continuation of life amid what seems like dark times. It’s so easy to get caught up in the negativity in the world, so I choose to immerse myself where birds chirp and bees sing.

I’ve been struggling with vision issues due to massive floaters, and spending time on the computer has been difficult. It’s frustrating and zaps my creativity, but gardening requires no reading, and I let my hands do the work.

The kitchen has called my name many times this month to explore a few new creations like this orange and chocolate posset from The Cozy Plum. It’s creamy and orange-y, like a creamsicle, and it’s irresistible! My friends and I ate it so fast that there was no time for photos, but check out this easy recipe and delight your guests.

Something else I’ve discovered is how to make my own dishwasher and laundry soap. Guilt set in when I realized how much plastic in those little cubes went onto my dishes and into the ground water. I tried unsuccessfully to make powder detergents and got filmy dishes and rough, powder-dusted clothes. I found this cool website, MyMerryMessyLife, and tried Sara McFall’s recipes to great success. Dishes are sparkling, and laundry is clean and fresh. She has recipes for many all-natural home products so check her out. Dishwasher soap. Laundry soap.

Along a trail in Point Loma, in towering trees, blue herons build enormous nests to raise their fledglings. I find it captivating to watch these magnificent birds either sitting in the nest or feeding their little ones. They are hard to capture in photos, but here’s a peek.

Mom and Pop watching over their fledglings.

I wish you a spring full of sunshine, good times with family and friends, and a harvest of seasonal edibles, whether grown yourself or from the farm.

“It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.”
― Rainer Maria Rilke

Ciao for now,

Turkish Eggplant Kabobs

Posted on September 16, 2020July 29, 2024 by Mary

Now starring . . . drumroll, please. The lovely eggplant: cloaked in the deepest jewel-tone purple, satiny, with unblemished skin, sleek in figure adorned by an evergreen crown cap. She is royalty and commands a striking presence in my garden. I’d almost rather leave this bowing beauty as a decoration than cut it.

But it called me to create something exotic, something I’d never tried before, and so it became the Eggplant Kabob.

My friend Ahmad, a student in Turkey, knows first-hand the possibilities of this fleshy fruit. Yes, eggplant is a fruit! The kabob was his recipe recommendation. Ahmad aspires to live in America and become an electrical engineer, but he was previously a chef assistant at his friend Erdal’s restaurant, Kebabi, in Istanbul. Kabobs, other meats, and flatbread are all grilled over an open flame. Click on the gallery view on the website to see photos of the appetizing food!

My friend Ahmad and the chef and owner of Kebabi, Erdal.

After watching the “how-to” video Ahmad sent me, I was ready to tackle the eggplant kabob.

An Arabic video on eggplant kabobs

Chris and I marched off to our now favorite market, Balboa International Market, to gather ingredients to make it ourselves. We found a “meat kebob” seasoning with cayenne, paprika, sumac, saffron, turmeric, and more in their well-stocked spice section. The knowledgeable butcher said it was typical to use an equal amount of lamb and beef to skewer between the eggplant. We added the spices to the meat, along with chopped onion, and assembled it alternating meat and fruit, and then BBQ’ed it on the grill.

The result? It was really tasty! To finish it, we sprinkled pomegranate seeds, walnuts, and mint leaves on top, which really pulled all the flavors together. Next time, I would make a yogurt and cucumber sauce to drizzle on top and serve it with mint tea. Crumbled feta would be delicious, too! Middle Eastern cuisine’s depth of flavors and spices have given my taste buds a new experience and made me crave more. What’s next, Ahmad?

Gleaming skin: a plump elongated shape: the eggplant is a vegetable you’d want to caress with your eyes and fingers, even if you didn’t know its luscious flavor.

Roger Verge

Ciao for now,

Dreaming of Gelato

Posted on June 10, 2020August 5, 2024 by Mary

Let me introduce my writing friend, colleague, and guest blogger, Jolie Tunnell. Jolie is witty, sassy, and knows how to tell a story. Her blog at JolieTunnell.com shares humerous tales of her five children, husband, and new kitten and is always a fun read. She’s got a lot more action on her site than just her blog, so please check it out!

Recently we were bemoaning the fact that we couldn’t just jump on a plane and fly to Italy for inspiration. Inspiration meaning immediately heading to the local gelateria for a pick-me-up. I asked her to share her experiences with this Italian classic to give us all a break from reality.

Thank you Jolie!

In 2018, guest blogger Jolie Tunnell and her Hubby spent their 30th wedding anniversary traveling Italy and sampling the cuisine. By “sample,” we mean “ate as much as they could hold on any given day.” This is her take on the gelato experience, followed by recommendations for locally sourcing the tempting treat.

Not all gelato is created equal.

As a matter of fact, you cannot walk a Roman city block without tripping face first into three different gelato displays, and as tempting as it is to eat your way through Italy with a cucchiaio (spoon) in your hand, you need to know the “Good” sources from the “Great.” You don’t have to settle for less, here in the motherland.

“Good” will have a small case of flavors, ten or so basics, tucked into a larger establishment like a restaurant or souvenir shop. “Good” gelato is made in a factory from sullen cows with whatever ingredients are handy, but you may as well try it in order to educate your palate.

“Great” will have a wide variety of flavors, twenty at least, in a place dedicated only to this frozen delight. It will have over 150 if you’ve arrived in gelato Nirvana…which exists in Rome. Maybe it has won major awards for deliciousness in Sorrento. It will say “gelateria” over the door and have a bonafide gelato party going on inside.

“Great” gelato is crafted from the finest fresh ingredients from someone’s secret family recipe that Nonna left under her pillow. Each artisanal flavor will be piled into tall fluffy mountains of joy with bits of the ingredient tossed on top. ie: the pineapple gelato will be wearing a pineapple crown and the walnut gelato will be studded with walnuts. They branch out with lighter sorbets, too, just to mix things up.

The chilled pan of nocciola will be half empty because the Master Gelatieres can’t stop sampling it for quality control.

This place is taking gelato as seriously as you are and that’s good Great.

Next – always choose a cup, not a cone. Don’t be that guy with the cone we watched over and over, wandering sideways into the middle of a busy square attempting to lick his gelato into submission and losing the battle. You will run into him later in the baptistry – sprinkled in holy pistachio. Marked by his dedication.

Gelato deserves your complete attention.

Now for the best part: Choosing your flavors. Begin slowly, don’t hurt yourself. We began with single flavor starter cups and worked our way up to professional level with three for four flavors at once. This allowed us to sample sometimes eight flavors at a time, because sharing is caring.

Also, this is how you discover that tart lemon and smooth chocolate go surprising well together in a single lick. My absolute favorites were the pear and the fig. The flavors are rich but also subtle, with bits of dried sweet pear or fresh fig swirled into the gelato. Unusual and delicious.

While we impatiently wait for a chance to revisit this beautiful country, its delicious cuisine, and its precious people, we offer you a quick perusal of local San Diego gelaterias. Enjoy your sweet summer treat on a friendly neighborhood sidewalk as the sun drops into the west and remind yourself that Italy is only a lick away.

Deliziosa!

Voglio mangiare il gelato tutto il giorno! (I want to eat gelato all day long!)

San Diego Gelato:

Chocolat Hillcrest, 5th Ave

Bobboi Natural Gelato, Little Italy & La Jolla

Gelato Paradiso, Coronado

Milkissimo Gelato, Mission Valley Mall

Bottega Italiana (UTC Mall), Nado Gelato (Coronado), Gelato 101 (Encinitas)

Pappalecco, Hillcrest

An’s Dry Cleaning, Adams Ave

EscoGelato, Escondido

Gelato Vero Cafe, India St, Caffe Italia, Little Italy

Zero Gelato, Normal Heights

Dolce Italian Ice, Pacific Beach

Figaro Dessert Cafe, University Ave

Gelato & Friends, N Harbor Dr

Gelati & Peccati, North Park

Cor di Gelato, Mission Beach

Jolie Tunnell is a freelance writer, blogger, and aspiring novelist with a background that includes administration, education, and – thanks to her five kids – a sixteen year stint in the PTA. She serves up hard-won wisdom with humor, compassion and insight from her home in San Diego, California. Visit her at JolieTunnell.com, LinkedIn, or Facebook, or be her writing buddy at NaNoWriMo.

Flavors worth finding:

Cocco (coconut)

Pistachio

Amarena (tart cherry swirl)

Deep Dark Cioccolato (death by chocolate)

Stracciatella (a bit like chocolate chip)

Peanut (not peanut butter sadly, but more like a raw peanut ice cream)

Pera (pear and ricotta)

Berry

Tiramisu

Albicocca (apricot)

Nocciola (hazelnut)

Mango (basically you are just eating a chilled perfect mango)

Limone (tart lemon)

Mistero Latino (it’s still a Latin Mystery to me but it was quite tasty)

Fico (fig)

Caffe (coffee)

Ciao for now,

Sparky’s Southwest Adventures Told in His Own Words

Posted on June 6, 2018June 18, 2018 by Mary

Oh no! Suitcases! I sigh. Long stress yawn. I hate suitcases so much, my anxiety kicks in big time. It means you are going away. Pouting is my favorite way to instill guilt and boy, does it work!

Wait! Are you packing my leash and my bowl? Does this mean – really? Oh boy, oh boy! Let me in the car and close the door, quick! The car is really full of stuff and my dog bed is lining the back seat. Where in the world are we going? My Grammy gets into the car too. My curly tail doesn’t allow me to really “wag” but I can shake my butt and wiggle with glee. One happy boy! The pack, all of us together. I am excited but nervous. We dogs live for the present and every day is a new adventure. I LOVE adventure but the roar of the engine causes me to slip into a dreamy sleep.

When I wake up from my nap, we stop for my pee breaks and the air feels different – drier and hotter. The heat carries the smells of my mom’s herbal garden: sages, rosemarys, fragrant wood. Hmmmm. Thirsty, thirsty. The rough, gravelly dirt is prickly on my sensitive paws. I hop back in the car and am blasted with cool air. Hey, I know it’s hot outside but this temperature switch is killing me! Turn down the A/C guys! I crawl onto the floor behind the seats for relief.

My ears! Something feels different. There’s pressure in my ears and it hurts. I am yawning way more than usual. Please open the window, even a crack!
Mom keeps talking about mountains. The landscape is flat with big mountains in the distance. We finally stop and the suitcases come out. Grammy tells me we are in Flagstaff. This isn’t our home! Why are we here? I really am a creature of habit! A homebody! I know all that stuff I said about living in the present. I take it back. I’m not used to being out of my comfort zone – my sweet backyard with cool grass, a shady patio, the occasional possum to kick my prey drive in gear.

All these noises in this Flagstaff backyard spook me. My barking mechanism is triggered with the crack of a twig. I am in protection mode for the pack. It’s my job and I don’t take it lightly. I’m not like those Golden Retrievers who gush all over everybody. I size up a situation and am super cautious. You might say distrusting. Sometimes it takes years for me to realize people are actually my allies, like my neighbor, Sandy who I now adore. Yes, I have trust issues but it’s too late now to teach this old dog new tricks. I’m too smart to buy into any kind of behavior reform! Thankfully, Mom and Gram pet me and scratch my chest until I calm down. I quickly fall into a deep sleep and dream of chasing cats.

Cats. I’m not really sure how I feel about cats. When I spot one, my bark turns high-pitched and I whine. I want to pursue but have never really interacted with one. Once, on a neighborhood walk, I barked and pulled on my leash to get a closer look at a big, gray cat on a doorstep. Another cat, I’m sure the porch cat’s friend, jumped out from behind a bush (she must have just been waiting for someone to terrorize) and landed directly in front of me. She arched her back, raised her hackles and fur and let out a “hiiisss” like I have never heard! I got the message but the experience shattered my ego. The cat terrified me! I leapt in the air several feet backward and whimpered like a baby. I am not proud of this moment but there it is. I digress.

The next day we hit the road again. Killer temps but I manage to relax into the drive. We arrive in a town Mom calls Santa Fe. I exit the car, do my downward dog yoga pose and enjoy the cool breezes. Sniffing with curiosity, I detect anointed pee on rocks from unfamiliar creatures. Birds softly chirp and the rustle of wind in the pines unlocks bold and stringent scents. My ears are perked straight up like radar, alert, on guard, pivoting to catch any and all unique noises.

Mom sits on the porch and writes while I zen out next to her taking in the clean air where I can really pick up scents like coyote and lizard. I even think I hear drum beats. I am an old soul and very intuitive. I feel an energy of connectedness to this natural wilderness. Am I in tune with the ancients who lived here so long ago? Mom seems especially comfortable here and I hear the word “love” a lot. Sigh. Traveling can be interesting!

The altitude is affecting my appetite and I’m not very hungry. I know it’s my anxiety too. Grammy sneaks me her leftovers from the dog-friendly restaurants we go to. I love my Grammy. People in the restaurants always reach out and want to touch me – usually my head. Well hellOH-HO. Can you please be polite and ask? Did you not take Dog Etiquette 101? Ok, scratch my chest and I’m yours.

Hey wait! I’m feeling comfortable here, in the wooded forests of Santa Fe. So why are we packing up and leaving? Oh well, as long as we are all together, I’m in. A few stops later and the visuals and scents are shifting. Big, I mean really big snow-capped mountains loom, so close their energy pulsates. Boulder is the word Mom and Grammy keep telling me. I guess we’re going to Boulder. All shades of green dot the landscape. Who says dogs don’t see color? Ahhh, refreshing. I LIKE Airbnb! My paws enjoy cool grass like my backyard. My nose detects water, more pine, and that familiar smell I know so well – cats!

Every evening my mom takes me for a walk around the condo complex where we are staying. Every evening, as we turn the corner, an orange tabby cat sits just inside a small wooden patio. Every evening she waits for me (it must be love) and when she see me, leaves the comfort of her condo to strut her stuff outside along the wooden planks, almost as if she is a lady of the night in an old western town, daring me to come closer, “Come on over, big boy,” she seems to say. It’s this game we play, night after night and I quite enjoy it. Of course, I whine out of curiosity. Each time I whine, my mom gets a fit of the giggles watching us. Maybe my mom should get us a cat to play with….

Packing up again! When will this end? The drive home is hotter and at the rest stops, my mom actually picks me up to place me in a grassy area so my pads won’t touch the searing pavement. I love my mom.
Exhausted from all the new sights and sounds, I sleep away, dreaming of tall forests and scents of herbs, and gigantic mountains and my favorite dream of all – cats!

That’s my story. As my mom always says,

Ciao for now!

Sparky

My Visits with Julia

Posted on February 22, 2017May 23, 2017 by Mary

Before Julia Child was an icon of French cooking, she was my escape. Somehow food was programmed into my DNA and I hadn’t realized it yet. As a teenager, all I knew was that this large, middle-aged woman had captured my attention with her tv shows and I hung onto her every word.

Making cakes and cookies was a hobby for me but The French Chef opened up a whole new world. Omelets, chicken, herbs, spices, living abroad. Maybe, just maybe I could be like her someday. She became my role model. It was her casual style I admired. She wasn’t glamorous, she just knew her stuff. What struck me most was her passion for everything she cooked. It’s what I was looking for in my life – a passion.

My mom was an avid kitchen experimenter and really let loose when Mastering the Art of French Cooking was published. I remember making hollandaise and bernaise sauces to start, then digging deeper.

Shortly after college, I attended a book signing and met the woman I’d grown to love and who inspired my culinary career. Years later, at an event for the American Institute of Food and Wine, I had the opportunity to interview Julia. I was so nervous! My notepad contained a list of questions for her but she had her own agenda. With conviction, she talked about how we should be enjoying the experience of cooking and eating, how butter was the star of many of her dishes and how the family dinner was a time to share food and conversation.

Last month I made my first visit to Washington, DC. Even though my museum list was long, my priority was to pay homage to the woman who had influenced and guided my career. First stop, the Smithsonian National Museum of American History where Julia’s original Boston Kitchen is on display as a cultural treasure. My emotions ran high as I viewed the simple “workshop” where she shared her knowledge and recipes with millions of viewers. Shiny copper pots and lids hung on peg boards along with all her cooking utensils. A rustic wooden table in the middle stood steadfast as the heart of the kitchen. Fans gathered around TV screens which were showing her 1960’s cooking shows. A blast from the past!

Julia made history just being herself. How fortunate she was to be in a place in time where she was appreciated and could be just that – herself.

Ciao for now,

Love, Mary

Play Ball!

Posted on April 12, 2016January 25, 2018 by Mary

A few weeks ago, the desert called to me, or was it Spring Training? Baseball has this effect on me. It makes me happy. Just say the word “baseball” and I will break out in a smile. What is it I love so much? It’s the crack of the bat hitting the ball, sending it at lightening speed in a line drive down third base. It’s the dance of the batter as he prepares himself mentally to make contact with the ball. It’s the exchange of glares as the batter tries to read the pitcher’s mind. It’s the sheer collective energy of the crowd, cheering on their chosen team.

This passion for the game all started long ago when my dad would load up the green van and drive us into Los Angeles to watch the Dodgers play ball. We’d don our Dodger blue gear, eat peanuts and keep score. My younger brother was my teacher, sharing the encyclopedia of player facts that were stored in his brain. It was always a good time.

Now my favorite way to watch baseball is at Spring Training in Arizona. It’s so up-close and personal. I feel like part of the family. I am fortunate to have a dear friend, Bob, who is a former pro ball player. Even better, he lives in Arizona. When he called to say, “game on,” I didn’t hesitate. Our weekend mission – three games in two days, all in different stadiums. Now, when you are lucky enough to sit next to a guy whose blood runs baseball and shares with you how and why each pitch is delivered, that’s euphoria for a baseball fan like me. The perfectly warm weather, the wafting smell of grilling hot dogs and musty draft beer, the sea of orange clothing (at the Giant’s game) – what’s not to love?

Giants game Scottsdale Stadium. My favorite of the three stadiums we visited.

Many people think baseball is like watching paint dry. I find it relaxing and invigorating at the same time. There’s enough time between the pitches to guess the strategy behind the upcoming play. It’s a mind game that gives you the opportunity to sink into each play, learn about the players and admire the muscle these guys have to throw a ball from the outfield to home plate.

FullSizeRender — Me & Gaylord – what a thrill!!

To make this weekend even sweeter, Bob introduced me to his former team mate and Hall Of Fame superstar Gaylord Perry. One of my favorite books back in the 70’s was “Me & The Spitter.” I had my icing on the cake.

Happy baseball watching. Be sure to take your glove. You never know where that ball might land!

So, “Take me out to the ball game,
Take me out with the crowd;
Buy me some peanuts and Cracker Jack,
I don’t care if I never get back.”

“Never allow the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game!”
― Babe Ruth

Ciao,
Mary

Brunello di Montalcino

Posted on November 4, 2015July 14, 2017 by Mary

Brunello, where have you been my entire life? I’ve finally found you tucked away in the rolling hills of Tuscany in an exclusive neighborhood of vineyards reserved only for the Sangiovese clan.

Under the shadow of Montalcino lies acres of grapes destined to become one of Italy’s most prized wines. Tasting a beautiful Brunello was on my bucket list. After a little research, I came upon a vineyard called Santa Giulia near Montalcino that specializes in Brunello. Only about a half hour from our home base of Pienza, I pointed the car southwest and relaxed into the drive. The picture perfect Tuscan countryside dotted with tall lanky cypress tress and narrow country roads gave the illusion of being in a dream. A few wrong turns corrected, we made a left down a long gravel road to reach our destination.

We were greeted at the entrance by Gianluca Terzuoli, the owner and second generation wine maker at Santa Giulia. The farm is small with five hectares of grape vines producing only 20,000 bottles of Brunello each year. Much to my surprise, the vineyards have no irrigation and rely solely on rain water to quench their thirst. The roots are encouraged to reach deep into the earth to receive minerals from the soil that give the wine its unique taste. Dependent on the weather, a heavy rainfall year will produce a grape with a high water content which means less sugar and lower alcohol. A dry season will produce a higher sugar content grape with a consequently higher alcohol content. The art of making a balanced and well structured Brunello is achieving that perfect balance of rain water to sunshine, resulting in a medium sugar to water ratio for the best wine. Brunello must be 100% Sangiovese grapes and is only produced in this region. Gianluca makes a “Rosso”, which is aged in Slovakian barrels for two years, and a Brunello di Montalcino which after this first aging, is moved into French Oak for another year or two before bottling. After our enlightening lesson, we retreated to the house where Gianluca’s mother had prepared a platter or artfully arranged prosciutto, salami, (meats made by the Terzuoli family), bread and pecorino.

As instructed, the way to taste wine is with food so we are encouraged to eat and drink! The Rosso is delightful, light and fruity. Next is the 2009 Brunello which is browner in color with a rich ruby, slightly earthy taste. Last we tasted a 2008 – fruit forward, silky and lush with dried cherry aromas. Heavenly.

Gianluca sells only to private buyers and one distributor in San Francisco who only sells to restaurants. We felt lucky to meet him and enjoy his family hospitality. If you find yourself in the Tuscan countryside, longing for a great taste of the best Italy has to offer, be sure to look Gianluca up. I’ll look forward to drinking the 2008 Brunello on my birthday!

Santa Giulia Winery, Montalcino, Italy

“First we choose the food. Then we choose the wine.” Gianluca Terzuoli

Ciao for now!

Maria

Roberto Cooks Sicilian

Posted on August 5, 2015March 10, 2022 by Mary

My friend Roberto, musician, teacher and lover of food, especially Italian, came to visit last weekend. He brought us the best gift. He cooked for us! Did I mention Roberto is Sicilian? His recipes are not what you would find in any restaurant and probably rarely what would be published in a trendy cooking magazine. They are true-to-the-culture dishes that are a bit out there and really pushed my culinary boundaries. Skeptical as you may be, this recipe is so delicious, your stomach will be begging for seconds, as mine did.

Pasta Con Le Sarde, or Pasta with Sardines, is a representative dish of Sicily from Palermo. What makes this dish so interesting is its Arab influence and how the middle eastern ingredients found their way into Sicily’s culinary history. Examples of this are raisins, pine nuts and saffron included in this pasta.

Roberto told me of his mother and aunt making Pasta Con Le Sarde for family dinners. He fell in love with his first taste of the dish even as a young child. As he grew older, and eventually moved to California, Roberto became more interested in the food and ingredients of his homeland. To help with the surges of homesickness most foreigners experience, he began cooking from a cookbook of ancient Sicilian recipes he brought with him from Sicily. Here is the recreation of the recipe he fondly remembers.

The beauty of this dish is that you can have a few things going at once and while they simmer, sit down and enjoy a glass of wine.

This recipe will not spell out exact measurements because Roberto made it off the top of his head. Still, it is easy to create and this dish is not an exact science! Serves an army or about 4 hungry diners.

Pasta Con Le Sarde

Print Recipe

Ingredients Method

Ingredients

2 Tbls. extra virgin olive oil
1 large onion chopped
3 anchovy fillets canned in oil
3 cups chopped fennel fronds and stalks not the bulb
16 oz. rigatoni pasta
1 tin sardines in oil
1 cup raisins soaked in warm water to soften, then drained
1/2 cup pinenuts toasted
generous pinch saffron
Lemon Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Method

Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
Sauté the onion in the olive oil with the anchovies.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add a teaspoon of salt.
Add the chopped fennel fronds and boil for about 45 minutes or until very tender and soft.
As the onions cook and soften, add spoonfuls of the fennel water to the mixture to keep it moist.
When the fennel is cooked, strain it out of the water using a slotted spoon and add it to the onion mix.
Do not discard the water! This water will be used to boil the pasta.
Add the pasta to the boiling fennel water and cook until just al dente or firm to the teeth.
Meanwhile, to the fennel onion mix, stir in the sardines, raisins, pine nuts and finally the saffron.
Gently stir in the cooked pasta and coat it with the fennel sauce.
Use olive oil, we prefer the Lemon Extra Virgin, to coat a 6 quart baking dish. Pour in the pasta mixture. Generously drizzle the entire dish with lemon extra virgin olive oil, about 2 Tablespoons.
Bake in a 325 degree oven for 10-15 minutes or until heated through.
Serve with a fresh green salad and crusty bread.

In Italy, Roberto uses wild fennel, Finnochio Rizzo, that he gathers from the side of the road.

The nose is telling Roberto how many more sardines to add. The sardines smooth out the strong flavor of the fennel. Of course, in Sicily, fresh sardines are used.

The finishing touch - generous drizzles of Lemon Extra Virgin Olive Oil. — The finishing touch – generous drizzles of Lemon Extra Virgin Olive Oil.

So, how many of you will attempt this dish? It is quite tasty, not fishy and flavorful to a fault.

“And anyone who has once known this land (Sicily) can never be quite free from the nostalgia for it.”
D. H. Lawrence

Ciao for now,

Love,

Mary

Dinner at 8, Lucchese Style

Posted on December 2, 2014May 21, 2017 by Mary

My beautiful new friends Mattia and Michelle

Once upon a time you meet people who forever change your life. Mattia and Michelle did just that. What originated as friends of friends, blossomed into a friendship and an Italian experience I will never forget and for which I will always be grateful. Both seriously talented opera singers, Mattia and Michelle shared their home and lives with me for 11 days this fall in Lucca, Italy. Besides their accomplished opera careers, they’re both amazing chefs, whipping up last-minute meals out of nowhere. And this is where my story begins…

Lucca, Italy 26 settembre 2014

It’s 7:00pm on a Friday night. Michelle and Mattia are throwing a dinner party and guests are due to arrive at 8pm. I volunteer to bring the chicken, so before heading home, stop at a small family owned negozio di pollo, a shop that sells poultry. I tell the macellaio, butcher, how many people we are serving and without asking, trims the fat, debones and then portions the chicken, all while giving me cooking advice. The bird pieces are carefully wrapped in paper, the shop keeper, with a smile, generously tucking in seasonings of fresh rosemary and sage, herbs that show up frequently in Tuscan kitchens. Oh the charm of such exquisite customer service!

I arrive home to an empty and quiet apartment. Tick tock tick tock. Now it’s 8pm and no sign of Mattia or Michelle. A quick call reveals they have met an old opera friend at the Oratorio who has gifted them with singing lessons. Our guests have been notified that the party will now begin at 8:30. With a sense of calm, and very little prep done, Mattia and Michelle arrive home with joy in their hearts ready to prepare the dinner. The three of us work in perfect harmony, like a concerto, to produce a beautiful meal in 45 minutes! These two are now my role models for entertaining! Here’s what we cooked.

Infused with lemon, rosemary and sage, the chicken begins its journey

Mattia teaches me the Lucchese way to cook

Michelle, a native of Australia, prepares her specialty, Apple Crumble

A grating of fresh parmesan finishes the first course of pasta

A little vino, and charming company create the perfect ambiance

Mouth-watering apple crumble, Aussie-style

After dinner, Mattia shares his vintage record collection played on a gramophone. We loved the music and his singing!

The evening ended with singing, of course, Michelle and Mattia at the piano, serenading us with Phantom of the Opera favorites. A night to remember!

Check out Mattia and Michelle’s website Lucca Opera Festival and when you are in Lucca, be sure to go to a concert to hear them sing!

My lesson for this day is to let the magic happen, and it will when you decide to just go with the flow!

Ciao for now!

Love,

Mary

La Vendemmia

Posted on October 4, 2014May 21, 2017 by Mary

Every day in Lucca gets better and better. Mattia’s family invited me to partake in La Vendemmia, an annual event, in late September and early October, to harvest grapes for wine. I feel privileged, and lucky, to share in this day long celebration of family, food and friends.

Harvesting grapes is just as much fun as it is work. Michelle and Nicola crack me up!

The vineyards are on Frederico and Simonetta’s property, Carpineta Ranch, a beautiful 20 minute ride from Lucca. The drive follows narrow and winding roads up the hills where the vistas get wider, deeper and so visually stimulating that I become hypnotized, my eyes drinking, like parched desert, the equally balanced green and stone cropping of old churches and houses. A visual feast.

When we arrive, Angela, a friend of the family, is busy making a wood fire for cooking the lunch. It is a deep oven, large enough to fit four-foot pieces of wood and to create intense heat.

The sky is blue and the air is warm. I tuck my feet into a pair of rubber boots, grab the clippers and off I go. We clip like mirrors. One person cuts clusters on one side of a row and the other clips facing them, insuring that all the grapes are found. Sometimes my mirror partner is Michelle and we chat away; sometimes it is Alberto, and we clip in silence, exchanging glances and mm’s as we taste the juiciness of the grapes. A giant bucket lies nearby ready to be filled. The clipping is rhythmic and before I know it, my bucket is bursting with the purple jewels.

Michelle showing off an exceptional cluster.

The buckets are loaded onto a tractor and Frederico transports them to his wine-making shed.

Frederico with our pick is off to unload the precious cargo into the vats

A metal crusher sits at the entrance, pushing the grapes through, expelling the stems and leaves.

Into the crusher for the first stages of wine making

The red pulp, skins, seeds and all, is immediately pumped into large vats where they will rest for five days to soak up the color of the skins and ferment. The white grapes are crushed, then poured into an ancient wooden slat barrel where they are hand pressed. This barrel sits on a platform and has slits at the bottom to catch the juice as it flows into a large bucket. Pressing the grapes to release the juice is an art form and a labor of love. One must use a very long smooth wooden stick to carefully push down through the grapes, along the side of the barrel. If the push is too strong, juice will spill over the side, wasting valuable soon-to-be wine.

Mattia hand presses the white grapes to release the juice

The stickiness of the grape juice permeates my skin. Following tradition, the cool pool refreshes sweaty bodies.

“Pronto” calls Simonetta. Pranzo (lunch) is ready. This is the best part! A long table under the pergola is neatly set with green dishes.

Simonetta arrives at the table with a huge pan of baked pasta. Fantastico doesn’t even begin to describe it. Pasta is tossed with ragu and poured into a baking pan. Bechamel sauce anoints the top and swirled into the pasta. A sprinkling of Parmigiano and finally a thin layer of a butter crust coats the entire pasta dish. This bakes just until the crust browns and the inner pasta is hot. Wow.

Angela now leaves the table to remove the rest of the dinner from the fire.The food could not be fresher. Tomatoes, potatoes, the chicken and cannellini beans are all grown on Angela and Carlo’s nearby farm. This is such a treat I must pinch myself!

Plates are whisked away to make room for the dolce. How can I possibly fit any more into my swelling belly?

A yogurt cake and pine nut semifreddo appear on the table and Frederico does the honors of cutting portions and plating. Another perfect complement of desserts. i eat it all. Cafe is the finishing touch. Is it nap time yet?

Mattia donning a recently shed snake-skin. Eek. I hope we don’t run into any with the skin on!

Frederico’s artful transformation of a hunchback tree trunk. Her name is Bess and she resides at the bottom of the hill. Bellisimo!

After a stroll in the woods to hunt for porcini mushrooms, which had recently been plucked by someone a step ahead of us, it really was nap time. Comfortable cots line the pool and the warm sun seduces us into relaxation.

The light softens as the sun begins its descent into the hills. Colors intensify. An ancient church on the hill is distinctly visible against the darker green of the hills. A pumpkin colored home pops out against the landscape. I love this dream of Tuscany. Or Paradiso as Mattia calls it. Another perfect day among new friends. I could not be more grateful.

Ciao for now!

Love,

Maria

Lucchese Style Cooking

Posted on April 30, 2014May 21, 2017 by Mary

Delectable Torta Verdura, a sweet and savory dessert popular with the Luchese. — Delectable Torta Verdura, a sweet and savory dessert popular with the Lucchese, a style local to the area of Lucca.

Are you interested in learning some authentic Italian recipes from a bona fide cooking school in Lucca, Italy? If so, read on. Davino, my host from La Mimosa, had arranged for me to attend a cooking class at the International Academy of Italian Cuisine in Lucca, just on the other side of the hill from my house. I wasn’t sure what to expect but was grateful for the opportunity to join an ongoing class. This particular course trained students for a career as a professional chef. 10 were Japanese, two were Chinese and one was Italian. Mama Mia!

The instructor was Mariela. She patiently went through the menu with us all, a translator changing Italian to Japanese and then to English for me. The clock started ticking. We started at 10 am and lunch was to be on the table by 1:30 pm. Then the switch went on. I felt like I was on Iron Chef. It was chaos – for a while. Pots began clamoring, students, almost in a panic, grabbed ingredients and bumped into each other, all in an attempt to put their ingredients in place for their designated recipes. The first minutes seemed uncertain, a searching for confidence, then this sense of order settled in. Dishes started to unfold.

I was told to go here, and then there, do this, then that. I felt a little out-of-place hovering, assisting, chopping, straining, the only sounds being Japanese words. Some students tolerated me and some were curious. Why was I here, interrupting this “professional” class? It certainly was not what I expected but I must say I learned a thing or two.

Like how to make the Torta Verdura. I had been curious about after eating it at the Festa. Made with swiss chard, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, candied citrus, raisins soaked in liquor, pinenuts and a little sugar.

All the goodness piled high awaiting a hand mix to create the pastry.

So it is a little savory, a little sweet and served as a dessert. The crust is like a pâté sucre, a sugary crust, and heavy with egg yolks. These happen to be brilliant orange – must be what the chickens eat.

Sunset colored yolks for the torta crust.

Hand mixing makes a tender crust. This is enough dough for three tortas.

I learned a new technique for decorating the crust to create little “beaks” by slicing the dough on an angle, then with a knife, folding it over the dough to its right.

Making a slit at an angle, then folding over the existing dough makes a pretty "beak' decoration. — Making a slit at an angle, then folding over the existing dough makes a pretty “beak’ decoration.

This torta, a Torta di Riso al Cioccolato, is filled with chocolate, rice, pinenuts and lemon zest.

The spinach, for the lasagna, was pressed through a tami, or strainer, for extra fineness – another good tip.

A finer pasta texture is achieved when the spinach is finely strained.

This sweet Italian student must be getting ready to finish her internship. We rolled the pasta outside on the patio! — This sweet Italian student became my friend. We rolled out the pasta layers outside on the patio!

Mariela demonstrates the proper technique.

Bechamel sauce tops the spinach lasagne as the first layer. — Bechamel sauce tops the spinach lasagna as the first layer.

A tomato sauce is swirled into the bechamel, then the layers continue. Delicioso! — A tomato sauce is swirled into the béchamel, then the layers continue. Delicioso!

I helped make a timbale of cardoons, which when cooked, have a similar flavor to artichokes. We squeezed lemon juice on our hands to prevent the cardoons from turning them black due to the iron in the vegetable. Cardoons look like tall, fat celery.

Cardoons are first stripped of their "strings" then chopped and cooked in boiling water to soften. — Cardoons are first stripped of their “strings” then chopped and cooked in boiling water to soften.

A last minute plating of the appetizer. — A last-minute plating of the appetizer.

Lunch was served on a lovely patio outdoors and I sat with the owner, Gianluca who has taught here for 10 years.

Our main course of stuffed veal roulade, cardoon custard and sauteed greens. — Our main course of stuffed veal roulade, cardoon custard and sautéed greens.

Gianluca’s students have eight weeks of training and then are placed in restaurants all over Italy for a 10-month internship. The students are not paid but receive room and board in exchange for this opportunity to learn from master chefs. His success rate is high and the students seem to thrive on this experience.

The owner and operator of the academy, Gianluca, turns out professional soon-to-be chefs. — The owner and proprietor of the academy, Gianluca, turns out professional soon-to-be chefs.

The next time I visit Lucca I will participate in the evening classes which are designed for people who enjoy learning from local chefs and just want to have fun! Contact Gianluca for more information at:

The International Academy of Italian Cuisine In Lucca

info@italiancuisine.it

www.italiancuisine.it

I’m working on perfecting the Torta Verdura recipe so I can share it with you. Look for it in an upcoming post!

Abbandonatil all’amore e alla cucina. Love and cook with wild abandon! And that I did!

Buon Appetito!

Ciao and amore for now,

Maria

Pomeriggio di Pasta (An Afternoon of Pasta)

Posted on April 2, 2014May 20, 2017 by Mary

A tavola non si invecchia
At the table with good friends and family you do not become old.

Laureen's positive energy is contagious! — Laureen’s positive energy is contagious!

This last weekend, I enjoyed one of the finest stress-free parties I’ve ever thrown. What’s my secret? Read on for clues!

Recent trips to Italy have inspired me to excavate my pasta machine and crank it up. What better way to renew my acquaintance with this machine, than to invite other food lovers to share in the experience of making fresh, homemade pasta? The friends I made in Rome on a food tour were in San Diego for the weekend. Thus the inspiration for a pasta party with friends of all ages to gather, cook Italian and swap stories of Italy. I cranked up the Mambo Italiano tunes from Pandora and soon the spoons were stirring, hands were kneading and bodies were swaying to the beat of the music. Are we having fun? It was a blast!

Making spinach pasta - one of my favorites. — Making spinach pasta – one of my favorites.

Here’s our pasta featured lunch menu:

White lasagna layered with grilled veggies ala TV’s “The Chew”

Fettuccine with spicy Italian olive oil, fresh Pecorino cheese and black pepper

Spinach pasta ravioli filled with spinach, ricotta and Parmesan

Fresh greens from my garden

Homemade Ciabatta bread made by master baker Eva

Fresh strawberries with vanilla ice cream and my homemade limoncello

After a how-to demo of using your fingers to gradually incorporate the flour into the well of eggs and olive oil, I turned the mixing over to Laureen, the friend I met in Rome. The dough almost looks as if it is not going together but it’s important not to add more liquid at this point. Sometimes strong hands are needed to pull the dough into a cohesive mass. Laureen’s husband, Brent was our man.

His strong hands swiftly kneaded the mixture into a beautiful soft and smooth dough which we let rest for 20 minutes. Even though I’ve made homemade pasta many times before, I did some research and thought Guiliano Bugialli’s method for rolling out the dough was worth a try. First, feed the dough through the machine on the widest setting. Then fold the dough into thirds like a book.

Notice how this pasta dough is much coarser than the multiple roller pasta. — Notice how this pasta dough is much coarser than the multiple rolled pasta.

Feed it through the machine again on the widest setting and repeat folding and rolling on this setting eight more times. After the ninth roll, reduce the settings to move the rollers closer together. Feed the dough through each of the remaining settings once until the dough is almost translucent.

Our egg pasta is perfecto! — Brent’s egg pasta is perfecto! We made two batches of pasta. One pure egg and one spinach. The egg is made with 2 cups of flour, 2 eggs and 2 tsp. of olive oil. Simple.

With patience, Brent folded and rolled and I must say, the texture of the pasta was the best I’ve ever made. This technique is a keeper!

How much more beautiful does this get? Or do I just love food??

Our antipasto munchies. The butter is homemade by moi!

Everyone had a task. My friend Eva made a red sauce from tomatoes I canned last summer. Laureen carefully cut out raviolis, made from our homemade spinach pasta, and filled them with spinach and ricotta.

Laureen's classy raviolis. — Laureen’s classy raviolis.

Sliced veggies ready for their grill marks.

My mom manned the BBQ grilling thinly sliced eggplant and zucchini to be layered into the white béchamel-sauced lasagna.

Mom's finished lasagne The secret ingredient is lemon peel and lemon juice stirred into the finished bechamel. — Mom’s finished lasagne The secret ingredient is lemon zest and lemon juice stirred into the finished bechamel.

Eva tossed a salad with greens from my garden, southern Italian olive oil and thick aged balsamic vinegar from The California Olive.

The salad maker Eva. — Eva gives a splash of olive oil and balsamic vinegar to the greens.

Lucky me for having a great friend who makes the best bread I have ever put in my mouth. Eva presented us with two huge loaves of crunchy Ciabatta with a chewy interior and perfect taste. She seriously needs to take this to the next level and sell her bread to all her fans.

The meal was coming together! A bottle of Prosecco and a toast celebrated our friendships. It was time to indulge!

Ravioli, fettucine and lasagne. Italian heaven.

È raccogliendosi a tavola che gli amici apprezzano la gioia di stare insieme.
It is around the table that friends understand best the warmth of being together.

Limoncello drenched ice cream and strawberries were the digestive.

If you haven’t thrown a spontaneous party recently, I highly recommend it. All you need is adventurous friends, happy, snappy, music, a few ingredients and a dose of quality time. It’s easier than you’d imagine and more fun too! Buon Appetito!

Thanks to Brent and Laureen for sharing some of their photos with me. Also, The California Olive is a great resource for local and delicious olive oils and balsamic vinegars: www.thecaliforniaolive.com

Abbandonati all’amore e alla cucina!
Love and cook with wild abandon!

Ciao for now

Maria

Nicola Cooks Tuscan

Posted on February 4, 2014May 20, 2017 by Mary

My friend Nicola is a cook, gardener, artist, historian and proud Lucchese – a person born in Lucca. Angela, of La Mimosa, introduced us while gathered around her rustic wooden kitchen table, a fire blazing in the open-hearth to warm us during a fall rainstorm. She was in the midst of preparing rabbit stew for lunch and we were the observers. I was drawn to Nicola’s enthusiasm and knowledge of traditional Tuscan foods, their heritage and cultivation.

I learned that olive oil from Lucca is lighter and softer than the spicy southern version I usually cook with. Tuscan bread is unsalted. The reason being, during the medieval times a high tax was levied on the salt and the bakers decided to go without. Romans used faro before wheat, so in keeping with their roots, many Tuscans use it in salads and soups. Tuscan foods have more of a French influence than other parts of Italy.

To become more familiar with typical, local ingredients, I asked Nicola if he would cook with me in my barn kitchen and teach me his family secrets. He eagerly agreed.

Here is his menu:

Antipasto of Artichoke Hearts, Olives and Pickled Onions

Pumpkin Risotto

Faraona stuffed with vegetables and braised on the stove top

Rutabagas, cubed and cooked with butter, sage and garlic

A medley of sautéed greens, shallots, garlic and white beans

Unsalted Tuscan bread

Salad greens from Nico’s garden, dressed with local olive oil

Tuscan country wine

Our antipasto and my table decoration of all things nature gathered outside at La Mimosa. — Antipasto nestles between my Tuscan table decoration of all things nature gathered outside at La Mimosa.

When I saw the abundance of groceries overflowing on my countertop, I wondered how we would be able to eat it all. Good thing Angela and Davino were joining us!

The Faraona, a guinea fowl, is stuffed with leeks, garlic, carrots and celery. It is then trussed and wrapped with a layer of lard. According the the famous Italian culinary writer Artusi, the Faraona is native to Numidia and considered to be the symbol of brotherly love in the ancient world. How appropriate!

Ummm. Lard. It gives the bird flavor and makes everything taste delicious. I loved this paper it was wrapped in. — Ummm. Lard. It gives the bird flavor and makes everything taste delicious. I loved the photo on this paper it was wrapped in.

The trussed, larded bird is browned in a heavy pot on the stove. Water and wine are added during the cooking process and the lidded bird cooks slowly. — The trussed, larded bird is browned in a heavy pot on the stove. Water just to coat the bottom of the pot, sage, garlic, pepperoncini and wine are added to braise and the lidded bird cooks slowly.

The artist, Nico, set to work creating dish upon dish so effortlessly. It was as if he were floating through time, not rushed, just enjoying the moment. I watched (and helped) in amazement as each dish came together.

Nicola artfully balances four burners full of food all going at once: The Faraona, rutabagas, pumpkin risotto, chopped greens with white beans. — Nicola artfully balances four burners full of food all going at once: The Faraona, rutabagas, pumpkin risotto and chopped greens with white beans.

While the bird cooks, Nicola starts the pumpkin risotto. Italians call squash, “pumpkin.” Butternut squash is cubed and cooked in a pot of boiling water until tender but not overcooked. In another saucepan, sauté what else but olive oil, two minced garlic cloves, and three chopped shallots until soft. Add two handfuls of rice (arborio) for each person and water to cover. Stir and add water as needed. Drain the almost cooked pumpkin and add to risotto. When risotto is almost done, add white wine as the last reduction and salt to taste. Do not overcook!The secret is to cook al dente.

My kitchen was an infusion of mingling aromas – shallots, garlic, sage and roasting bird. In a soft tone, Nicola describes each step, keeping rhythmn with the courses. Rutabagas, which add a color contrast and bright flavor to our meal, are cubed and cooked with garlic and sage in a small amount of water.

More olive oil, shallots and garlic are sautéed with a mixture of chopped greens, mostly spinach, that you can purchase ready-made at the store. This is all heated together, then white beans are stirred in. Very delicious and healthy.

Il primo. Creamy and al dented, it gets Davino's approval. — Il primo. Creamy and al dente, it gets Davino’s approval.

Tigre in a trance, dreaming of the bird that fills his senses. Of course, he will be the lucky recipient of tender morsels at dinner time.

Il secondi. Now this is a dinner created with love!

Angela with Tigre upon lap enjoying the camaraderie. — Angela with Lily upon lap enjoying the camaraderie.

Everything is perfect and so very delicious. The Faraono is delicate and succulent. Angela, Davino and Nicola ate it with fingers, devouring every morsel off the bones.

The conversation (and wine and Prosecco) continued until 12:30am. I will always remember this dinner, the new friendships formed and the enjoyment cooking brings when shared with others. By the way, do all Italian men know how to cook like this? I am impressed!

So that’s my friend Nicola. The best part of traveling is meeting new people, discovering their artistic talents and sharing the journey. I wish you art and love everyday in your life.

Note: The photos in this story are off color. I had difficulty with the indoor lighting. They are not my usual standard!

Ciao!

Mary aka Maria

The Cooking Lesson

Posted on June 1, 2012May 22, 2024 by Mary

Chef Lionel getting ready to make Bourride.

Bonjour! It is a gorgeous sunny day, and the birds are chirping out melodies of joy. Today, I am excited to share my cooking lesson with you. As you know, we four women ate at Le Sixieme Sens earlier in the week and were charmed by the “cave” experience and the owner, Lionel. He invited us back and said he would cook anything for us, perhaps a French recipe we had never tried before. We put our heads together, looked through some cookbooks, and came up with Bourride, a type of fish soup. I emailed him our choice and, on second thought, asked if I might watch the process. The reply was “oui” and could I be there at 2 pm? Of course!

I walked into the restaurant, and Lionel did not waste any time handing me an apron and asking me to please slice the fennel and leeks he had cleaned and organized on a cutting board. I was thrilled. Not only could I watch, I would be his sous chef for this recipe! I washed my hands and quickly got to work in his pristine kitchen. He asked me how I chose the recipe for Bourride. I replied that it was something you would not find on a menu in the States, and I could smell the melange of flavors in my mind. He commented that it is an ancient recipe that your grandmother would have made. The recipe for Bourride is in Lionel’s head, and ingredient after ingredient appears in a small refrigerator below the counter. Into a giant, maybe three-gallon stockpot, we toss leeks, fennel, onion, parsley, and garlic. I will write out a rough recipe to share on a separate page from this post.

Next, we add a cupful of cherry tomatoes, which he says have better taste than the larger whole tomatoes. “Now you can stir the pot.” The vegetables sweat as we continue to add a tube of tomato concentrate, generous sprinklings of pepper, and sel gris (gray salt), which has more depth than regular salt. As we cook, I try to extract as much as I can about this man in my beginner French. Lionel’s mother is a passionate cook who prepares international dishes for the family. This influence and appreciation for food led him to experiment with different recipes while DJ’ing in St. Etienne for 14 years. Six years ago, he came to Carcassonne to realize his dream, opening Le Sixieme Sens, appropriately named because he creates the tastes and smells for your six senses. He manages the kitchen by himself and enthusiastically cooks for his guests.

Back to the Bourride—into the pot goes the whole fish, eyeballs and all, Poisson Roche, a kind of rockfish, and Lotte. Next, a handful of thyme and turmeric and a few quarts of water. This all simmers for three hours.

A rouille is the traditional accompaniment for the dish, so we begin with fresh, homemade mayonnaise, to which I add finely chopped garlic, salt, pepper, turmeric, and a tiny dash of hot pepper sauce. We reserve this for dinner tonight. Lionel asks, can I return at 6 pm to finish the soup? Ma oiu!

The next step in this lengthy process is to strain the gallons of fish broth we prepared earlier into another stock pot. First, Lionel uses a hand processor to blend all the simmered ingredients. Okay, I am game, and in this steamy kitchen, I sweat as I ladle spoonfuls after spoonfuls of broth into this small strainer.

15 minutes later, we have the Bourride. It simmers again on the stove to reduce by a third. The finishing touches come tonight.

The first course is the delicious soup, so creamy with gentle fish flavors and a hint of the fennel and leek. I had never tasted such depth and richness without the help of cream and butter. Served with toasted baguettes and the garlicky rouille, it exceeds my expectations.

After the first course of soup, Lionel gently poaches fresh fish of lotte, loup, meurlu, squid, and calamari. This second course is served separately on a giant platter, enough food for 10 people!

A chardonnay from Limoux, a local wine-growing region, paired perfectly with the Bourride.

Merci Lionel for a very memorable experience. I enjoyed every minute of cooking and learning with you! Good luck with your new tapas bar set, which will open in the fall.

Au Revoir!

Mary