Tomato Sandwiches [The Cookbook]

When I got out to the garden this morning, I was greeted with a very pleasant surprise:

They're ripening!

I swear to you, I handled this is a very classy fashion. I totally didn't jump and squeal or anything.

It's been a very wet and cool summer in these parts, which while great for the snap-peas, which are still producing into August now, not so much for the more warm loving plants: tomatoes, peppers, my sad, sad cucumbers, etc. I've got a lot of lovely green fruit on almost all of my plants, but it's all mostly green. I'm so glad to see some ripening going on. This particular variety is called "Saucy," an heirloom paste tomato, which according to the description is a pretty early variety, so hopeful a few of the other varieties will get themselves to ripening before October.

Now, these tomatoes (along with a few other paste varieties) were planted with the express purpose of going into my spaghetti sauce. Pastes are meatier and using them will definitely cut down on "cooking down" time with my sauce. Unfortunately, when planning my tomato varieties, I didn't think about the fact that this was an "early paste" and what that meant. It's not canning time yet. Or, rather, none of the other tomatoes are even close to ready for it to be canning time, so I can't even whip up a small test batch. Still, I didn't want little critters munching on my tomatoes, so there was only one thing I could do.

My photos of the actual finished product are awful, so you're going to have to deal with a picture of toasting bread. Hopeful in the next month or so, my photo quality will improve thanks to some changes, which I discuss later. Anyone who knows me, though, knows what the toasted bread is about to become.

It's a dish that really brings back memories of summer lunches on the back porch with my mother. They were probably accompanied by a huge mug of coffee. :) I don't remember eating them with Bisnonna though. Likely because of that terrible anti-tomato phase I experienced in youth, but don't talk about the dark days.

Madre remembers though:

Tomato Sandwich

Madre writes: This is one of my favorite lunches with Grandma. Toast two thinly sliced pieces of Italian bread [Amy's note: Or medium-ish wheat, I don't think it makes a difference *hides*] Butter them, slice your tomato, and put it on the bread. Sprinkle a little bit of salt and pepper and a tiny bit of oregano. Enjoy!

So there you have it. A favorite (delicious and easy!) summer lunch for generations.

Beat the heat with Cannoli Ice Cream

"Again with the variations on cannoli?" You say. Well, you might say, I suppose, but those of you who are like me and can't get enough of anything even vaguely related to these particular pastries will really enjoy this one, I'm sure.

Ever since acquiring an ice cream maker last winter, I have been experimenting with a variety of different ice cream flavors: strawberry-basil, peaches and cream, fresh mint chocolate chip, etc. Last weekend, though, I found myself with extra ricotta cheese and an idea: if Ben and Jerry's can do it, why can't I?

I scoured the internet in search of recipes, but none seemed to both fit my ice cream maker and appropriately approximate what I personally felt was the right taste for cannoli. I ended up blending a few together and came up with a lovely mixture.

It doesn't taste like cannoli filling, which is what I was going for, but it became something else entirely, something of its own. It tastes rather sweet, but not too sweet. There's a hint of spiciness that I think that comes from the addition of cinnamon and nutmeg. Why not try it for yourself?

Cannoli Ice Cream

[What you need]
2 cups whole milk
15 oz ricotta cheese
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup powdered sugar
2 T vanilla
1 t cinnamon
1 t nutmeg
To taste: chocolate chips, chopped pistachios, and/or dried apricots*
pinch salt

[What to do]

1. Whisk milk, salt, and granulated sugar together until slightly frothy.
2. Add cheese, powdered sugar, vanilla, and spices
3. Put in refrigerator for at least an hour, but it's best overnight
4. Follow your ice cream maker's instructions or! use this method.

*My ice cream maker instructs you to add "mix-ins" chocolate, nuts, fruit, etc at the last 5 minutes of the process, but your method may vary.

Bisnonna's Black Bean Soup

A few years ago, my zia gave me one of the greatest Christmas presents I can remember: a recipe box with cards filled out with various family recipes. The range of the recipes was quite wide and varied, covering 1950s classics, which she made copies of my nonna's own cards for, to modern dishes that she makes for PTA meetings. I was so excited. I still am. Every time I open the box and inspect the cards, I get a little thrill. Maybe I'm weird...

Anyway!

There's one recipe in there that I have been dying to try for a while now and last weekend, I finally got up the nerve.

It's one of Bisnonna's classic list recipes. To the end my zia had appended the following note: "Good luck ~ no directions ~ just Grandma's love and intuition <3" Luckily, it's a soup. Soup is hard to get wrong. Not impossible (there's a reason you never saw my attempt at borscht) but hard.

The list reads:
2 cups black beans
6 cups cold water
2 cups chicken broth
3 med. onions
1/4 cup butter
2 bay leaves*
1 clove garlic
2 Tablespoons parsley
1 ham hock*
fresh ground pepper
2/3 cup sherry - dry

*I ultimately ended up not using these items. I'm not big on bay leaves and I couldn't find a ham hock (I also wasn't about to buy a whole ham just to get one, though I imagine this soup would be a great use for leftover holiday hams).

Amy interprets and fills in the gaps:

1. The night before, soak sort, rinse, and soak beans. If you forget this step a quick soak will work fine.
2. In a large pot (this makes a LOT of soup ~10-15 bowls depending on bowl size) add the butter, then saute chopped onions and garlic with the parsley
3. Add water and broth, then bring to a boil.
4. Drain beans and add to soup
5. Now for the ham. If you have a ham hock, add it in now but be prepared to remove the bone later, if you're like me as were unable to find one, it is perfectly acceptable to use chopped ham steaks, which have the added benefit of being left in.
6. Finally add the sherry and pepper to taste.
7. Continue to simmer on low for another hour to let the flavors blend together.

I give this recipe, or at least whatever came out of the pot, an A+, personally. I only wish that I could interpret this well on Bisnonna's non-soup recipes.

Cannoli Tarts! [The Cookbook...sort of]

[This post is a little belated. I started it a while back after my birthday, but life intervened. Here is it, a month late, but still good! You can make them for San Giuseppe Day tomorrow! Enjoy!]

Another year. Another birthday. Another treat to take in for the coworkers. After last year's casata disaster, I decided to keep things a little more on the simple side this year: I would make cannolis! Little did I know that cannolis were quite possibly the furthest things from simple I could have possibly chosen.

The plan was to whip up a batch of filling according to Bisnonna's recipes and use it fill up store-bought shells. Unfortunately, the weekend of my birthday, as I scoured the grocery stores in my area (ultimately going to 4 different stores), I learned that store bought shells aren't as readily available as I thought they were for some reason. I could have sworn that grocery stores, at least where I grew up, carried boxed cannoli shells, but around these parts, they are definitely less accessible.

So there I was, shell-less with all the filling ingredients and out of treat ideas.For some reason I couldn't get the idea of cannolis out of my mind. Making my own shells was out because my madre has Bisnonna's shell molds. I was stumped. And then I decided to search the internet to see if there was some sort of cannoli shell mold DIY out there (pinterest has DIYs for everything after all) and I found my inspiration: Cannoli Bites! When I saw this recipe, hope rushed back to me. I could adapt Bisnonna's cannoli recipe to suit this new form of shell mold and save the day!

Bisnonna's Cannoli

Bisnonna writes: 1 2/4 c. flour, 1/2 c. crisco, 3T sugar 1 egg, 3oz sherry wine or 6 T

Filling: 2# ricotta, about 1 c powder sugar or more or less, 4 almond chocolate bars cut up, about 12 cherries cut up, 1/2 c. nuts, 1/2 container of Cool Whip. Mix together and put in shells.

Amy's version: I mix up the shell dough with her exact ingredients, except I used 3 oz of red wine and vegetable shortening instead of crisco. The instructions for making the shells are at the Cooking Classy. As for the filling; again, I follow Bisnonna to the letter except instead of Cool Whip, I just used regular whip cream. I find the specific name brand usage in some of Bisnonna's recipe cards very interesting. Surely she didn't always have these brands. Crisco may been around her whole life, but Cool Whip wasn't around until 1966. I'm sure that her recipe was likely adapted from some older recipe after much trial and error; and just like that, the life cycle of the recipe continues.

Raisin Pie

"The Pennsylvania Dutch loved their pies and ate them morning, noon and night. There were pies on the table at every meal. Everyone helped himself and 'ate himself full.'" - Pennsylvania Dutch Traditional Recipes for Pies and Pastries, 1963

I started this blog as a way to memorialize people I love through the food that I make, using recipes that they made and loved or recipes that remind me of them in some way. That being the case, I think there's no other recipe that I can present next. It has to be Raisin Pie.

Raisin Pie was a favorite of grandfather's and something I will always associate with him.

Oddly, in my research for an authentic Pennsylvania Dutch recipe, I discovered many references to it as a pie traditionally presented to bereaved families. I still don't know if I'm brave enough to make it as I've never been great at making pies, but since it's apparently rumoured to have these special powers, maybe I'll give it a shot. Here's the recipe in the mean time:

From Pennsylvania Dutch Cooking available on Project Gutenberg. (Other sources I've seen replace one cup of water with spiced rum. The choice is yours)

Raisin Pie

1 cup seeded raisins, washed
2 cups water
1½ cups sugar
4 tablespoons flour
1 egg, well beaten
juice of a lemon
2 teaspoons grated lemon rind
pinch of salt

Soak raisins 3 hours, mix sugar, flour and egg. Then add seasoning, raisins and liquid. Cook over hot water for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. When the mixture is cool, empty into pie-dough lined pie plate. Cover pie with narrow strips of dough, criss-crossed and bake until browned.

Biscotti Regina [The Cookbook]

I meant for this post to go up during the Holiday season, but the best laid intentions, right? The good news is, if you follow the traditional definition of Christmastide (aka the 12 days of Christmas, meaning from the 25th until the epiphany), I've still got 4 days left, so I'm well within the margin of error.

Anyway, today, I'm going to talk about one of my two all time favorite cookies: Biscotti Regina, the queen of cookies.

Over the years, it became a tradition to bake these beauties at my Zia's each holiday season (usually while watching Cary Grant being dangerously charming in The Bishop's Wife), but since moving away from the area it has become increasingly difficult to get back to town in time for the annual cookie bake party. This is but one of the multitude of traditions that my heart breaks a little to leave behind. Growing up is hard...

This year, in the hopes of getting my fix anyway, I decide to bring the tradition of biscotti regina to a cookie party with some good local friends. Hopefully, one day, I will feel as connected to this area as I do my home town.

It's an undertaking to make this recipe. I'm not going to lie to you here. My bisnonna was cooking for a very large and very extended family. I, on the other hand, just have a handful of people (and unfortunately a fair number of them are hesitant to try my recipes when they fall outside their comfort zone). Therefore, I cut this recipe down into thirds. I would have 1/2'd it, but it calls for 3 eggs and I haven't yet figured out how one deals with a 1/2 egg.

I'm not going to tell you it's impossible to do this recipe on your own. Despite my madre's protests when I originally proposed making these cookies on my own this year, I firmly believe it can be done if one has enough patience; however, it is a far more fun and memorable experience with friends and family around you.

 Seed Biscuits (Biscotti ala Regina)

via The Cookbook

Bisnonna Writes: 2 c. sugar, 1lb or 2 c. crisco, 3 eggs, 2 T. baking powder, 2 T vanilla, 8 c. flour, 1/2 c. milk (amy's note: you may need to add a bit more. I found my dough to be rather dry using only this ratio), 1 lb. sesame seeds (toasted), bake 375 degrees for 15 mins.

(Amy's note: You'll notice, as with many of Bisnonna's recipes, there's some missing steps. We'll get to that in a minute. Don't worry.)

Madre adds: If you ever made these with Grandma it was an experience of a lifetime. She always had the job of rolling out the dough and cutting it into little pieces. I always dipped the dough in the milk and got into trouble for getting either seeds in the milk or vice versa. Mom was the one who rolled the dough in the seeds. Sometimes if we were talking too much, they came out really long and skinny. [My brother] used to sneak up after Grandma took them out of the oven and take handfuls for eating later. If you're baking these and some come out a little dark, offer them up to Uncle Frank. He always liked the ones that were a little over baked. He told us they were good for dunking, Another little tidbit to remember is that when you run out of seeds, you can keep rolling the dough and make Aunt Lena cookies. If you're not sure what these are then you're in BIG trouble*. The stories that were shared while baking were priceless!

Amy interprets and fills in the gaps!

1.  See Bisnonna's notes above for what you need. (You will also need an additional 1/2 cup or so of milk set aside for dipping)
2. If you sesame seeds aren't pretoasted (and they're cheaper is you buy them this way), bake on an ungreased baking sheet at 350° for 8-10 minutes or until lightly browned.
3. Combine all other ingredients well in a LARGE bowl (with this amount of flour, using an electric mixer will really help, but obviously isn't necessary).
4. Take spoonfuls of dough and roll them out into ropes approx. the width of a finger. (Mine are obviously a little thicker than that, but...you do what you can.) 
   
5. Cut ropes into smaller pieces. My bisnonna used to claim these should be the size of your first knuckle.
6. Dip these pieces into milk, then roll in seeds.
7. Bake ~15 mins at 375

*I will discuss Aunt Lena cookies at a later date, but they are the same dough recipe sans sesame seeds and shapes into little spirals.

Preserving the Bounty: Pumpkin Puree

I've been putting this experiment off a long time. Much like sauerkraut I was under the impression that the whole thing was much harder than it actually turned out to be...plus pumpkin puree is so darn easy to find in cans, so why bother?

Well...it's tasty and easier than you, or at least I, thought.

It starts with pie pumpkins, where unlike jack o'lantern pumpkins, erring on the small ish side is a little better.

These guys would make terrible jack o'lanterns, but they were born for baking.

Then you cut into them much in the way you would a jack o'lantern. Take the tops off and scoop out the seeds (save the seeds for later and bake them for a tasty treat. I -loooooove- roasted pumpkin seeds. You don't even know.)

Then cut the pumpkin into quarters and place on a baking sheet. Don't add salt, cinnamon, oil or anything to them. All they need to be is what they are.

Bake them at 350 degrees F for ~ 1 hour. It could be a little less or a little longer depending on how much "meat" on each piece. The important thing in that the "meat" be fork tender.

When it is, -carefully- peel the skin off and pop the "meat" (I really don't know what else to call it) into the blender and puree until nice and smooth.

And there you have it: your very own fresh pumpkin puree to freeze or use as you see fit.

(I promise to post the pumpkin dessert made with this puree soon. I promise.)

Year One in the Garden

I've got a retrospective of my first year gardening over on Medium. Those of you who were interested into my foray should head over and check it out:

My father bit into the first strawberry of the season. He hadn’t even taken it inside to wash; just popped it into his mouth like ballpark peanuts. Seconds later, his face had gone just as red as the not-yet-picked berries on the plant. Before I could run for help, he sucked in a breath and gulped down the air, reaching for another one.

“Damn! Those suckers have a kick to ‘em.”

And that was the year we accidentally cross pollinated habanero peppers and strawberries.

I come from a long line of plant people: fresh tomato snobs and home salsa canners, foodies before foodie was really a word, dating all the way back to the village cheese monger. I have learned a lot of lessons from the garden

But this was my first year on my own.

Read More 

Later this week: Pumpkin Dessert, so stay tuned!

Italian Egg Drop Soup (Stracciatella)

Soup.

I love soup...

If I had to limit myself to eating only two kinds of food for the rest of my life, they would be pizza and soup. If I had to limit myself to one? As much as this pains me, pizza, it would have to be soup.

This soup...is spectacular. So much so that I made it twice in a week. And, not just because we really needed to use all the chard.

It's just a perfect soup for when the days begin to chill.

Italian Egg Drop Soup (Stracciatella)

inspired by Simply Recipes

[What You Need]

6 cups chicken broth

1 egg

1 T breadcrumbs

2 T parmesan cheese

2 cloves minced garlic

1 t ginger

1 t tumeric

1 t chili powder

1 or 2 bunch chard

[What to do]

1. Bring broth to a boil, add chard and garlic. Continue to boil ~5 min.
2. Whisk egg, cheese, breadcrumbs, and spices together in a separate bowl.
3. Gently drop the mixture into the soup. Allow to sit for a few seconds, then stir.
4. Allow to sit for a minute before serving.

Grape Focaccia (Schiacciata all'uva)

One of the best things about sharing most meals with someone else is that you can experiment a little with what you make. If I were only cooking for myself, there is no way on earth I would have attempted this recipe.

Why?

Well, for starters, I'm not the biggest fan of grapes. I know, I know. I'm the girl who made fun of her father constantly throughout childhood for liking tomato soup but refusing to eat fresh tomatoes. I get how silly it sounds for a wine devotee to be grape-shy. But there's a reason for that too.

Grape flavoring reminds me of a certain cold medicine that I was often given as a child. I avoid syrupy cherry flavored items for the same reason. I know the grape was supposed to make it better, but...I now have a lifelong aversion to grapes that aren't in wine form.

As I got older I found the Muscat and Sultana varietals. I began to realize (or so I assumed) that "actual" grapes taste nothing like certain childhood cold medicines. It made logical sense. Medicine wasn't made with actual grapes for flavoring, but artificial flavors. I told myself it would be fine.

This recipe, though, doesn't call for Muscats or Sultanas. This recipe calls for Concords, which little did I know at the time...

are the inspiration for artificial grape flavor.

Unfortunately, Concord grapes still taste like that childhood grape flavored medication, so I didn't love this, but people at work called it wine bread, so I suppose in the right hands this recipe could be amazing. Head on over to Food52 and check it out.

Preserving the Bounty: Sauerkraut!!!

I've been meaning to try this project for awhile now, but I admit I have always found it terribly intimidating. Sauerkraut, like spaghetti sauce, has deep roots in my family. I can remember many a childhood day that contained it. Also spaghetti sauce, though, I never ate the stuff in childhood. I referred to it as Sour Crap.

Eventually, I saw the light.

And it's a good thing I did too. Cabbage is crazy good for you. Fermented cabbage? Well, that goes and doubles things, now doesn't it?

So...with extra cabbage in hand, I turned to the source:

Now, you'll notice a few things about this recipe that differ from other instructions. Number one of which is the addition of sugar and vinegar. I have heard that naturally fermented sauerkraut (aka the super healthy stuff) contains neither of these things, only salt. This being my first time making it, using my nonna's recipe was important to me, so I opted to use these ingredients. I may change that in the future depending on my research.

Also my cabbage is weird because it's purple, but this is what we grew in the garden this year. It actually turns out rather nicely, just make sure you have some lemon juice on hand in case your hands or counters get stained.

Sauerkraut is actually easier to make than you think. My mental image of giant tubs of foul smelly cabbage notwithstanding. All you need is a 2 lb cabbage, some salt, and a mason jar.

First, roughly chop the cabbage and sprinkle with salt (and whatever else your person recipe calls for. Some I found use caraway seeds). You won't think it's enough salt, but trust me. Massage the cabbage, working the salt in until it starts to break down.

Continue for another two minutes or so, then firmly pack the cabbage into the mason jar (mine made enough for a quart), pouring any leftover liquid over top. For the next 24 hours, pack down the cabbage (I used a half-pint jar as it fit exactly) and keep in a cool, dry place.

Preserving the Bounty: Sweet Sauce [The Cookbook]

A week ago, Madre came to visit and we canned several quarts of sweet sauce (we also did salsa and pickled peppers as well, because we had an absolutely absurd amount of tomatoes from our garden). Sauce has been on my cooking bucket list since, well, pretty much forever. It's...got a legacy in my family. Nonno was well known for his spaghetti sauce (even though I refused to eat it until I was well into my teens - it's a long and terribly odd story that I'll save as fodder for the memoir), and Bisnonna's sweet sauce is a starting point for the majority of her main dishes.

As I am not feeling well; however, I will let the pictures and madre do the talking on this one:

Sweet Sauce: [madre writes] Brown a couple onions in a little oil. Blend your tomatoes in the food processor. This will blend everything. Grandma used to put her tomatoes in really hot water, then peel the skins off and squeeze the juice and seeds out of the tomato. You do whatever method is best for you. Add a pinch of salt, sweet basil, oregano and pepper. Let it cook for a little while. Then add a can or two of paste. Add some sugar to taste. Let this cook a good while so that it thickens up. All the amounts of the ingredients depends on how many tomatoes you are using. Use your own judgment. I like to can mine. Grandma would put hers in the freezer. Here again, do what is best for you. This sauce can be used as a base for vegetable soup, spaghetti sauce, and chili. Have some fun with it.

Pasta and Broccoli [The Cookbook]

I had fun with this one for a variety of reasons.

Number one of which is, I love broccoli. Always have. Probably always will. I was a weird kid in my youth. Any stereotypical vegetable that your average American kid isn't supposed to like, I gobbled down with  joy. My other favorite green vegetable is brussel sprouts. Quite frankly, I can't get enough of either and this year, we tried to grow both in our garden.

Growing broccoli is a bit of a fraught experience though. It has to be picked at exactly the right time or it goes to flower and then is no longer quite as tasty. Then, it has to be eaten fairly soon as the amazing antioxidant qualities that broccoli has degrade quickly after the head has been picked. No fun. No fair.

Luckily, Bisnonna was on hand with a fun recipe to use up the surplus broccoli that we managed to collect. I have no memory of this recipe, but it is simply delicious, and clearly someone does because it managed to gain inclusion in the cookbook. Take my word for it.

Pasta and Broccoli

Via The Cookbook (as told by Zia Sandy)

Bisnonna Writes: Fry an onion and garlic in oil. Chop up your broccoli in small pieces, put it with your onion mixture and 1 c. water and let it cook down until tender. Take 1lb pasta broken in 3 inch pieces, cook in a separate pan, drain and put with the other mixture. Add 1/2 c. spaghetti sauce. Let it cook a little so that the flavors mingle.

Amy adds: Throw in a few dollops of ricotta cheese and mix well. It really adds a nice creamy element.

Tabbouleh: Sicilian Style

There is a fair bit of Middle Eastern influence in Sicilian cuisine. It's most obvious in classics such as cassata, the use of couscous, and a fondness for apricots. This dish, which started as a way to use up an absurd amount of parsley from our garden, plays off those influences.

Sicilian Tabbouleh

inspired by Ina Garten with a lot of random additions by yours truly

[What You Need]

1 cup toasted wheat berries

3 cups water

2 tomatoes

1 cup roughly chopped parsley

1/2 cup roughly chopped mint

1/2 red onion, chopped

1/4 cup crushed pistachio

3 T. olive oil

3 T lemon juice

[What To Do]

1. Boil wheat berries in 3 cups boiling water for ~1 hour. They should soak up all the water much like rice.
2. Throw the pistachios in the blender if they're not yet crushed.
3. Toss all ingredients together in a large bowl.

It's that simple and it's a great dish for summer potlucks!

Preserving the Bounty: Kale and Potato Freezer Soup

As much as I wish it were hot peppers, our garden has been producing at least one vegetable with abundance and consistency: a trendy brassica known as kale. We've been cutting bagfuls of kale every other day it seems with no let up in sight. I enjoy kale and it's very good for you, so I'm not going to complain, but I was starting to run out of ways to prepare it: after several batches of kale chips, plenty of smoothies and stir-fries and salads, we still had several bags languishing. Kale is a terrible thing to waste, so the search began, Is there any way to preserve Kale for future use?

You can only can greens if you have a pressure cooker, so that was out. I was about to attempt freezing the individual greens when I remembered cabbage soup. My traditional m.o. when it comes to cabbage soup is to make a -huge- batch in the fall and freeze as many leftovers as possible. The result is lunches of cabbage soup all winter long. It occurred to me that something equally delicious might be created with kale.

And I was right! We were able to use up quite a bit of kale and preserve it for down the road when the greens parade has ended for our garden...and the soup is quite tasty too.

Kale and Potato Freezer Soup

inspired by Once A Month Meals

[What You Need]

Olive oil

2 cloves garlic

1 onion

5 cups vegetable broth

4 cups chopped red potatoes

1 cup Greek yogurt

1 teaspoon spicy brown mustard

1 tablespoon of oregano

1 cup milk

7 tightly packed cups of shredded kale

[What To Do]

1. Chop garlic and set it aside to rest.
2. Heat oil in a large stock pot and add chopped onion. Saute until tender and add garlic.
3. Add broth, potatoes, mustard, oregano, and yogurt. Bring to a boil and then allow to simmer until potatoes are cooked through.
4. Carefully blend about half the soup.
5. Stir in milk and kale. Allow to cook just a little while longer until the kale is slightly wilted.

Cream cheese candies [Prozia Margaret]

I was first introduced to these beauties at a cousin's bridal shower. I recall being floored by their delicate appearance and flavor. I also recall being happy to learn of my great aunt Margaret's relatively simply recipe for creating these masterpieces.

Now, I warn you, my recipe may not be 100% exact to her original. This is my attempt to recreate it without calling any relatives. I may have made these very late at night. Additionally, Prozia Margaret's candies were made in beautiful candy molds creating lovely rose shapes, which I did not have on hand. I'm sure you can find similar ones online. These were made very much on a whim and, again, very late at night.

Cream Cheese Candies

via Prozia Margaret

[What you need]

1/4 cup butter

1 8oz block of cream cheese

5 cups powdered sugar

1 1/2 tsp flavoring of your choice (I used peppermint as it was what I had on hand, but I recommend almond or anise for a more authentic touch)

a couple drops food coloring in preferred color.

[What to do]

1. Melt butter in a saucepan. Add cream cheese and stir until softened and mixed with butter.
2. Slowly, a cup at a time, mix in powdered sugar until the mixture forms a firm and moldable dough
3. Add in food coloring and flavor of choice. Or if you wish to do multiple, separate into bowls and do as many different flavor and color combinations as you wish. Mine were "Patriotic Peppermints" for the World Cup as well as upcoming Fourth of July holiday.
4. Roll into balls. At this point, you can either put them into molds and allow them to set this way or use a fork sugar cookie style if you find yourself sans molds like I did.

Arangini (Rice Balls) [The Cookbook]

I know it's been a while since I've presented a recipe straight from The Cookbook, which was the original purpose for this blog, but I hope to present quite a few of them soon. This week, I challenged myself to a classic bit of Roman street food, and it definitely was a challenge. Not that it was particularly difficult once I figured out how to put it all together, but simply because, unfortunately, many of Bisnonna's recipes are not written as clearly as I would like. Someone are only a list of ingredients. Others...a vague set of steps. It makes following them difficult.

This one falls into the vague set of steps category, but it was actually kind of fun trying to sort it out.

Why can't I ever make anything that looks half as good as it tastes?

Arangini (Rice Balls)

via The Cookbook

Bisnonna Writes: 1# rice, a little salt

cook and cool. Add 1/2 c. of Romano cheese. 4 T. melted oleo. 3 eggs well beaten, a little tomato sauce

Brown 1# hamburg, 1 clove garlic crushed, 1 onion chopped, 1/4 of tomato paste or 4 T. sauce, 1 c. water. cook 20 mins. dip in well beaten egg.

roll in bread crumbs and fry

Amy interprets and makes a few alterations:

[What You Need]

1 cup of cooked rice

1/2 cup of Romano cheese

1 lb hamburger

2 cloves garlic, chopped

1 onion, chopped

tomato paste

1 cup water

Well beaten egg

Italian bread crumbs

[What to do]

1. Brown hamburger, add garlic and onion to mixture and sauté for a few minutes. Add 1/4 can (about 2 tablespoons) of tomato paste and a cup of water. Cover and simmer about 5 more minutes.
2. Combine rice and cheese, them add hamburger mixture.
3. Form balls, dip in well beaten egg and them roll in bread crumbs
4. At this point you can either fry them for a more authentic street food take or cook them for ~1/2 hour at 350, which is what I did

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Unfortunately, I am again sans recipe this week. Garden work has been dominating a lot of my time. Community garden plots come with a whole host of problems that container gardens just don't seem to have: -lots- of weeds, more pests than I can comprehend, etc, but we're managing them as best we can.

And Just look at all those lovely tomato seedlings to the left!

I'm learning a lot about the work involved in growing the food that we eat. It's something I've always been vaguely aware of, but I still don't think I ever fully thought it all out. I still have a -far- from comprehensive understanding. Our plot is only 25' x 15' after all. Nevertheless, I can definitely say that after painstakingly picking cabbage worms off our cabbages, I am going to really appreciate eating that cabbage. 

Soup Bones

One of my favorite Bisnonna stories passed down through the family is the Tale of the Soup Bone. It's not really a complex story, but for some reason it has always stuck with me. Maybe because it was something so outside of my own experience that I didn't really have the means to process it.

In the tale, Bisnonna's madre sends her to the store with ten cents. She is supposed to get a soup bone and pay a little extra to get one with some meat on it.

Of course, this threw me as a child. Even if my madre was making soup from scratch, there still weren't any bones involved. There was stock, and veggies, and maybe some meat, but never bones. Right?

Flash forward several years. One month a delivery of meat arrives from the CSA with a strange additional item.

"What are we supposed to do with that?" My boyfriend asks sounding a little confused and eyeing the trade-in bin.

The story of Bisnonna and her ten-cent mission comes rushing back to me as I read the words "soup bone". "We make soup!" I announce proudly. "Keep it. I'll make a batch of beef stock."

I think he was pretty skeptical, but went with it anyway.

This endeavor did not turn out to be anywhere -near- as simple as I had been imagining it. Stock is a more labor intensive process than I could have ever expected and it involved touching and dealing with a lot of beef fat, which, thanks to my madre, I am very squeamish about. I do not think I will be making beef stock again any time in the near future. I will consider this one of those nice modern conveniences, but at least I now -know- how to create the sort of beef stock my Bisnonna grew up and that's the important part.

To Make It:

1. Gather a soup bone, some kitchen scraps (I had some onion skins and tops left over from dinner), and various herbs (I used parsley).
2. Bake the bone for 1 hour. 
3. Put bone and ingredients in a crockpot and cover with water. 
4. Cook on low heat for at least 6-8 hours. (One recipe I looked at called for 24 hours in a stock pot on the stove. I suppose this would have been more authentic, but I would be far too afraid to leave a burner on that long.)
5. As it is cooking, occasionally strain the fat off the top of the liquid.
6. Strain out liquid using a cheesecloth

Rhubarb Curd

I know, I know, back on the rhubarb train. It's funny...I don't think I can recall -ever- eating rhubarb even once in my childhood. Which is odd if you think about where I grew up.Rhubarb is the quintessential country spring fruit? veggie? stalk? (The definition isn't very clear), but here I am...just really discovering it for all it's magical properties. I have to wonder at the reason for this. Did somebody in my family dislike rhubarb? As often as we had strawberry pies (both homemade and bought from the ever illustrious Troyer's) and as often as strawberry is paired with rhubarb, you would think it would have come to visit every once and awhile.

It all started with the glaze, but I've been on a wild rhubarb ride ever since. I think it's that first blush of a new passion. (oh, and around these parts it's going to be another few weeks, at least, until the strawberries come in, so the old couplings are out - but the best advice is from The Kitchn blog: Don't wait for strawberries. It's May and winter was long. It's time to celebrate and enjoy rhubarb now.)

And so I did. I made their recipe for rhubarb curd. It has become the go-to toast topic around the apartment the past few weeks. It really is magical enough to eclipse peanut butter for a little while! So head on over and give the recipe a try. (Note: if I were to do it again I would cut the sugar though, so do as you see fit in that department.)