Below photos, courtesy of Owen Young

I met Lily and Owen in a train station in Barcelona, back in 2010.  Lily and Owen were traveling with friends, Rose and John. We happened to be headed in the same direction - so together we went, Kiwis and an original Brooklynite, on the Funicular de Montjuic. We spent the day walking, touring the Joan Miro museum, talking food, New York, New Zealand, what we’d seen in Barcelona so far.  

Owen and I had the same camera, and we bonded over this.  We compared photos from our day trips and, of course, poured over every photo containing food. Lily had this special way of making me feel at home, and while we walked we talked about baking pans, spices and cooking.  John was quiet and intelligent - stating historical and military facts as we stood at the top of Montjuic Castle.  John was balanced by his wife Rose.  I knew Rose would be hilarious.  From the moment I saw her giant smile, and the way she instantly hugged me, I felt a connection.  The both of us tend to make wacky faces, cuss for emphasis when telling a story and enjoy posing for pictures.   After spending the day with her, I decided I wanted to grow up to be as smiley and forthcoming as Rose.  After spending the day with these incredible couples, I knew that I was meant to go on this trip alone; all so I could come back with a better sense of the things I really want in this life.

I’m so emotional right now.   

Since we weren’t sick of one another after spending hours on the top of a giant hill, we planned to meet at La Boqueria the following morning.  

We missed one another.  

My new friends went back to New Zealand and I didn’t have the opportunity to officially say goodbye. Lily and Owen have emailed weekly and follow my whereabouts on nomnoms.  These two are great travelers, wonderful parents, kind souls, good eaters and stellar cooks.  Over the past 2 years we’ve stayed in touch, and I recently had the opportunity to see them again.  We were able to share the meal that never was when were in Barcelona.   

Rose and John were very missed, so I’m hoping they’ll make it to New York - or I’ll make it to New Zealand -  sometime soon.

xo

Roasted Bell Peppers 

*for instructions on roasting peppers

2-3 T. extra virgin olive oil
2-3 cloves of garlic (sliced thinly)
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

-Roast peppers according to instructions
-Slice lengthwise and place in a bowl
-Cover with olive oil, garlic, salt and pepper
-Let sit in the refrigerator for 1-2 hours
-Serve with bread, use on sandwiches, salads, meats 

Eggplant Rollatini

*for simple red sauce instructions

1 large eggplant
2 c. ricotta
1/2 c. mozzarella
1/4 c. pecorino
10 basil leaves (chiffonade)
1 egg
Kosher salt, freshly ground black pepper and non-stick cooking spray

-Preheat oven to 350 degrees
-Slice eggplant, lengthwise into 1/2-1” slices
-Sprinkle with salt and set aside for 15 minutes (this will release the water from the eggplant so you can get a good grill)
-In the meantime, mix ricotta, mozzarella, pecorino, salt & pepper (to taste) together
-Beat the egg and combine with the mixture
-Fold in basil and put the aside 
-Coat grill pan (if you’re fortunate enough, your real grill) with non-stick cooking spray and let heat over a medium low flame
-Pat eggplant dry with a paper towel and place eggplant on the heated grill, cooking eggplant about 3-4 minutes on each side
-Coat large pyrex dish with non-stick cooking spray
-Place 1-2 T. of cheese filling in each piece of grilled eggplant and roll tightly
-As you’re working, transfer rolled eggplant to your prepped pyrex dish, seam side down (repeat until done)
-Spoon red sauce over top of eggplant and let bake in the oven for 15-20 minutes, until just heated through

Spaghetti Garlic & Oil with Toasted Breadcrumbs & Walnuts

1 lb. thin spaghetti
10-12 cloves of garlic (peeled, smashed and chopped) 
1 c. flat leaf parsley (chopped)
1 T. red pepper flakes (you can certainly use less)
1/2 c. extra virgin olive oil
1/3 c. bread crumbs
1/4 c. chopped walnuts
1 T. lemon zest
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Pecorino for serving
Extra virgin olive oil for drizzling

-Place breadcrumbs and walnuts in a small pan, over a medium flame (watching not to burn), and toast until deep brown - about 4-5 minutes, and put aside
-To a small sauce pan add parsley, garlic, olive oil, sprinkle of salt, red pepper flakes
-Heat mixture  over a medium flame - just until you can smell the garlic - about 5-7 minutes
-Cook pasta according to instructions, reserving 1 c. of pasta water, and drain
-Toss spaghetti with garlic and oil (add some reserved pasta water if pasta looks dry)
-Sprinkle with breadcrumbs, walnuts, top with lemon zest, drizzle with olive oil
-Plate and serve with a heap of grated pecorino 

I’ve been cooking, but my time to write has been minimal.

I’m not going to give you my leftovers.

I’m going to share what’s been going on in my kitchen since I’ve returned from Mexico.

I’m not making Mexican food.
I’m still looking for Taye Diggs and or Javier Bardem.
I’m not searching for them in my kitchen, but when I’m out with friends I’m usually staring right past them and scanning the room for someone to bring home and hold.
I’m a bit of a nut job because I’m moving and moving is always stressful.
I’m not moving far, don’t you fear.
I’m going to be based out of a tiny Queens kitchen until I can afford a house on my own, or with Taye and or Javier.
I’m not really into having two lovers at once, but I’m not opposed with these two hunks.
I’m only moving 2 miles from my current apartment.
I’m really happy about it - the apartment is oozing with good energy.
I’m going to be outfitted with a separate kitchen and a living/dining area.
I’m about to make mad noms.
I’m happy it’s share time.

See below.  

And, did you know happy was my first word?

Now you do.  

Grapefruit Salad
*serves 3-4

2 large pink grapefruits (peeled and cut into cubes)
1 small red onion (very thinly sliced)
3 T. chopped walnuts
3 T. dried cranberries
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 T. olive oil
3-4 leaves of radicchio, romaine, or 6-8 leaves of endive
Optional: parmigiano reggiano 

-Place cubed grapefruit in a bowl and add onions, walnuts and cranberries
-Sprinkle with salt and freshly ground black pepper
-Toss with olive oil
-Serve grapefruit salad in radicchio cups or line romaine lettuce leaves or endive with the grapefruit salad
-Optional, but delicious: top with a slice of parmigiano reggiano  

Prosciutto, Fig & Pecorino Salad
*serves 3-4

1 1/2 heads of romaine
1 small onion (very thinly sliced)
10-12 dried figs (cut each fig into four pieces)
4-6 slices of prosciutto 
1/4 c. grated pecorino romano
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
Extra virgin olive oil and red wine vinegar for dressing

-Add chopped romaine, onions, figs ans half of the pecorino to a salad bowl
-Sprinkle with salt and pepper
-Toss with vinegar and olive oil
-Top with prosciutto and remaining cheese
-Drizzle with a touch of olive oil and serve 

Roasted Kabocha Squash with Honey Butter

1 whole kobacha squash (halved, deseeded, and sliced)
1 T. olive oil
2 T. butter
1 T. honey
Kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper

-Preheat oven to 400 degrees
-Coat slices of squash with olive oil, salt and pepper
-Line a baking sheet with foil and lay squash on its side
-Roast in the oven for 40-45 minutes until fork tender (turn the squash about halfway through, so it browns evenly) 
-In a small saucepan, over low heat, or in the microwave, melt butter and honey
-Drizzle squash with honey butter and serve hot  

Spring Side: Friselle with Tomatoes, Capers, Garlic & Olive Oil 
*serves 3-4 as an appetizer

1 pint cherry tomatoes (sliced)
2 cloves garlic (minced)
3 T. pearl capers
20 olives (pitted and sliced, which I didn’t use because I was fresh out!)
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 T. extra virgin olive oil
4 pieces friselle

-Mix tomatoes with garlic, capers, olives, salt, pepper and olive oil and let sit for 30 minutes to one hour
-Lightly wet friselle, top with tomato mixture and serve  

Deviled Eggs

Guacamole

Buffalo Wings

Recipes follow story

I’d like to make a public apology to my friends:

Thank you for coming over for Super Bowl, I really love having my tiny apartment filled with the scent of wings and friends.  

If you woke up mad bloated this morning, like me, which you probably did because we all ate the same food, then I’m terribly sorry. 

——————————————————————————————————-

Deviled eggs, guacamole and wings were only some of the bloat inducing food I served at my small Super Bowl gathering.  I also made spinach dip, you know the one with the mayonaise, sour cream and the packet of Knorr or Lipton Vegetable Mix?  There’s enough salt in that shit to send you right to the ER upon a first spoonful.  Then Nan brought piggies in a blanket, and I can never resist nitrates masked in the buttery goodness of a Pillsbury Crescent Roll.

Now, I tried to balance out the salt by serving vegetables - but chips are just so much more desirable to munch on.  Celery does have a loud, healthy crunch, but it’s not and never will be a blue corn chip.   

This morning I woke up, walked straight to my refrigerator and downed lemon water like I was stuck on a desert all night with no access to hydration.  Then I got on my exercise bike in an effort to “sweat it out.” 

I went to sleep thinking I should’ve given real consideration to Glamour magazines healthy Super Bowl snack suggestions, but I have this thing about eating like a girl - I just can’t do it. 

I’m sure carrot stick houses glued together with hummus are delicious, but that’s what I eat every day.  I needed to eat like a boy. I needed salt.  For one night.    

Do men bloat?  So many of my man-child friends openly admit to eating like shit all the time.  How do you eat wings and drink beer as often as you do and still look hot?  You mustn’t feel hot, I know it.   

*While writing this post, my co-worker just walked by my cubicle admitting that he’s bloated today because of his massive wing consumption last night.  He ate 60 wings.  And a sub or something.  I can’t believe he’s alive and walking around today.  I’m stunned that I’m not passing by his bed in a hospital.  

Thanksgiving doesn’t even do me like those wings did, but I have to be honest - I’d probably roll the dice and do it all over again.  

Happy Eating (and then detoxing).

Deviled Eggs
makes 1 dozen

6 hardboiled eggs
2 T. Grey Pupon
1/4 c. mayonaise
1 tsp. white vinegar
Dash of cayenne
Sprinkle of salt (if you dare)
Paprika or Cayenne for topping 
Pastry bag (if you have one, if not you can pipe the mixture back in to the egg white by using a ziploc bag and making a small cut in one of the two tips at the bottom of the bag) 

 -Slice hardboiled eggs in half, lengthwise, and carefully remove yolks and place in a bowl and arrange egg whites on a plate and put aside
-Add all ingredients to the yolks and mix until smooth
-Place mixture in a pastry bag and fill each egg half
-Top with paprika and serve

Guacamole
serves 6-8

4 ripe avocados (slice lengthwise, pits removed and reserved, and cut into cubes)
6 campari tomatoes or 2 medium plum tomatoes
1 medium onion (diced)
2 jalapenos (seeds removed and minced)
Juice of 1 large lime
Salt to taste
Cilantro (optional)

-Add all ingredients to a large bowl and mix well
-Place pits in the bowl with the guacamole (just warn your guests they’re in there) as they will prevent your guac from turning brown
-Serve with chips (use leftovers to top off scrambled eggs or indulge in Taco night, but I wont - too much salt)

Buffalo Chicken Wings

I pretty much followed this recipe for baked buffalo chicken wings from allrecipes.com but made some Nom nom tweaks as noted below. 

I’m not into frying, so finding a baked wing recipe was the only way I was going to let these chicken parts in my home.  I did half the amount of butter and added more hot sauce to the mixture I used to coat the wings.  Some reviews also noted a lack of flavor in these baked beauties, so I upped the salt (which I why I’m sitting here wanting to unsnap my bra right now), garlic powder and cayenne.  I also might’ve added a douse of onion powder because I thought - well, why not.

Here it is:
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 T. cayenne pepper
1 T. garlic powder
2 tsp. salt
20 chicken wings
1/4 c. melted butter
1 c. hot pepper sauce (such as Frank’s RedHot)
 
-Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil, and lightly grease with cooking spray
-Place the flour, cayenne pepper, garlic powder, and salt into a resealable plastic bag, and shake to mix. Add the chicken wings, seal, and toss until well coated with the flour mixture
Place the wings onto the prepared baking sheet, and place into the refrigerator. Refrigerate at least 1 hour
-Preheat oven to 400 degrees
-Whisk together the melted butter and hot sauce in a small bowl
-Dip the wings into the butter mixture, and place back on the baking sheet
-Bake in the preheated oven until the chicken is no longer pink in the center, and crispy on the outside, about 45 minutes
-Turn the wings over halfway during cooking so they cook evenly

Dear Crobin, my little pulpo -

Thank you for the Hail Mary, Filled My Face part of the title. 
You’re such a wordsmith.

Love,

Tbag  

Brown Gravy

Green Seasoning
Coconut Peas and Rice

Fried fish with green seasoning

Fried Plantains

Recipes follow story

One of my biggest crushes in this life, bigger than my crush on Kate Winslet, Hugh Jackman and apple crumb pie a la mode …

Aubrey Leander DeSilva.

Who is Aubrey Leander DeSilva?

My first crush.  Aubrey lived across the street from me and his house directly faced my back yard.  From his garage, and from my grandpas garden, we would talk on the phone, every day, after school.  He was 14 and I was 12.  He was Guyanese, he dj’d, he could dance - and I was chubby and self-conscious.  He would tell me I had beautiful hair, he would always ask me what I was reading whenever he saw me shuffling around with a book.  He was a dream.

When I stepped off of the L train and set foot on Rockaway Parkway 2 weekends ago, I wondered where Aubrey was.  I wished he would be waiting in front of the library for me, where he used to pick me up after school, but no such luck.

I walked past the library, past Canarsie High School, past bodegas where I would buy cigarettes for 10 cents a piece.

I arrived at Avenue L, where I would go to the movies, eat a slice, then eat an icey, then gobble down a pastry.  

This time around I didn’t have a slice, icey or pastry, my friend and I closed in a little West Indian market between 94th and 95th Street - that is after we stuffed ourselves on Jamaican food for lunch.

Orin Small is originally from Guyana and has lived in Canarsie for the past 16 years and he opened his specialty West Indian Food Market 12 years ago.  His motivation; one day  his wife sent him out to purchase mixed essence, and there was none to be found in the neighborhood.  Mixed essence contains vanilla, pear oil, almond oil, pineapple and caramel - among some other flavors  - and from what I learned, it’s a key ingredient in black cake or rum cake a traditional holiday treat enjoyed in Guyana and throughout the Caribbean.  Orin Small saw this as an opportunity to build a go to market in Canarsie, where residents could seek out ingredients to make meals they would always enjoy at home.

Standing close by Orin was his son, Roland.  Roland Small may only be 15 years old, but he knows a thing or two about making a sale and giving cooking tutorials.

For the child who is raised among family meals and a culture rooted in the tradition of cooking, sharing memories of food will always be the first thing on their mind.  Well, at least that’s the case for me and Roland.

I walked out of the store on Saturday night, learning how to make the Small’s version of Guyanese green seasoning, as they prepare it in their own home.

It was recommended that I use this green seasoning on any kind of white fish and then fry it up, until the rub gets crispy.  The Small’s enjoy their fried fish with coconut peas and rice or plantains, and they also shared their recipe for brown gravy.

Going back to Canarsie didn’t land me in the arms of my childhood crush, it brought me back to my only love - my kitchen.  

Brown Gravy
*makes 2 cups

1 T. oil
1 medium onion (diced)
1 bunch scallions (diced)
1/2 pint grape tomatoes (halved)
3 cloves of garlic (minced)
3 wiri wiri peppers (minced)
3/4 c. water
1 c. Miracle Seasoning

-In a medium saucepan, heat oil over medium flame
-Add onions and scallions, sauteing until fragrant about 5-7 minutes
-Add garlic, tomatoes and wiri wiri pepper - and cook for an additional 10-12 minutes, stirring frequently
-Add water
-Add Miracle Seasoning and bring to a boil
-Put aside until fish is fried and ready to serve

Green Seasoning  
*rub for 8 filets

1/3 c. dried broad leaf thyme
1/3 c. dried fine leaf thyme
1/2 c. fresh basil
4 scallions
2 cloves garlic
3 wiri wiri pepper
1/2 tsp. salt
8 pieces of butter fish (or any white fleshed fish filet)
3 T. vegetable oil

-In a food processor, fit with a steel blade, add first 7 ingredients and pulse until blended
-Rub green seasoning on fish and put aside
-Add oil to a large skillet, and place over medium flame, frying rubbed fish - in batches - cooking for approximately 3 minutes on each side (depending on thickness/size of filet)
-Top with brown gravy or serve on the side 

Plantain Chips
5 green plantains
Vegetable oil for frying
Kosher salt

-Soak plantains in scalding hot water for 7-10 minutes, for ease of peeling
-Fill a medium sauce pan, halfway, with oil and place over medium flame - allowing to reach 375 degrees 
-If you do not have a thermometer or a deep fryer, test the oil by tossing in a piece of plantain, and if it floats to the top within moments - you’re good to start frying
-Trim top of plantain, make a slice through the skin of the plantain - lengthwise - and remove skin
-Cut plantains in half
-Using a mandolin, if you have one, slice lengthwise into long strips
-If you do not own a mandolin, make lengthwise slices or slice plantain into thin rounds
-Add plantains to the hot oil, frying in batches, until deep golden brown 

Coconut Peas and Rice

2 c. parboiled rice
1 c. yellow split peas
1 14 oz can coconut milk
1 1/4 c. water
1 small onion (diced)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

-To a large stock pot, add peas, rice, diced onion, coconut milk, salt and pepper
-Place pot over a low flame and cover 
-Cook until all liquid is completely absorbed
-Serve with fried, herb rubbed, white fish

Golden Beet Salad With Honeyed Goat Cheese & Spicy Candied Walnuts

*Recipe follows story

I loved Ben Harper in college.
OK.  I still love Ben Harper and am highly jealous of Laura Dern because she was married to my favorite soulful hippie.

I lived most of my college years by the words of Ben Harper, suffice to say, they were filled with rejection, fear of God, feeling oppressed and feeling depressed.  No one was stealing my kisses, or my virginity for that matter, and every day seemed like another lonely day - lost in Connecticut and missing NYC.

But I learned to love college.

Leaving the confines of Brooklyn and concrete was the best thing I ever did, even though my dad encouraged me to stay local and go to Kingsborough Community College - so I could live at home and charge down Flatlands Ave. on the B82 with a backpack and a Snapple.   

Cute.
Or, not so much.   

I left.

I left in search of taking a writing class with Wally Lamb and to find myself, like Dolores in She’s Come Undone.  And, let me be clear, I was no Dolores.  No man has ever sent me nude pictures and my dad did not abandon our family.  My life has been sunshine and rainbows when compared to Dolores Price - but I related to her sadness and confusion.  

And so, late August of 1998, we packed up the 1991 Plymouth Voyager and my whole family took me to University.  I was fully equipped with a mini-fridge, snacks, curtains, a shower caddy and framed family photos.

The first Corrado to go to college.  

My mom, dad, brothers and Cousin Maria took the pilgrimage with.  I cried when they left me.  I cried for 3 weeks after, which then inclined my father to make the trip up to Connecticut to visit me, 2 times a week, until I grew a pair and my sobbing subsided. 

The ride was 6-8 hours round trip.  Suffice to say my dad really loved me.

He and my mom were concerned with the fact that I was only eating animal crackers and pretzels and drinking Coca Cola by the liter. I was living off of the Costco supply they were kind enough to pack for me.

Week 4, I finally left my room - for purposes other than showering and going to class. 
My dad was no longer taking the Voyager out for a long spin to Connecticut.
In fact, when he called my room on Saturday mornings, I was out to breakfast.
With people.
College people.
That I met all on my own.   

Once I found friends, incense, alcohol, the college cafeteria, Ben Harper and Gospel Choir, my college life changed.  Sure I was overweight and had to accommodate my wondrous waistline with men’s jeans and my dad’s Dickies trucker shirts, but my new friends didn’t care.  I gained some confidence.  So much so, that I didn’t want to go back to Brooklyn at the end of my Junior year.  I couldn’t imagine going back to Brooklyn.  A friend of mine presented me with the opportunity to stay in Connecticut for the summer.  She enlisted my help to take care of a small working farm not too far from the University.

The summer of 2001 was life changing.  The summer of 2001 was when I played the Biggest Loser with myself - before there even was a show on NBC.  I didn’t even fully realize what was happening 

I got up and walked every morning.
I slowly worked my way to biking.
I cooked.
I hydrated with gallons of water.
I cleaned up pony poop.
I raked hay.  
There was lawn mowing and there were even sheep to keep me company.  

But Ben Harper was my highlight.  From the album Fight For Your Mind, I played, incessently, the song Gold To Me.

I always ironed and cleaned the house to it.  When Carolyn wasn’t on the farm, I would blast the song at top volume, while I drank wine and cooked myself to into a vegetable based oblivion.  I was living a cliche, even in 2001.  I imagined, one day, someone would tell me I was their piece of gold.  I imagined kisses would be stolen and I’d be pleased like I wanted to be. One evening, in mid-August, I went out to clean up the pony area and when I was walking back towards the house, I saw my reflection in the front door.  The dress I had on to do my daily pony poop scooping chores was huge on me.  There was a line between my ankle and my calf.  My leg didn’t look like a log anymore. I didn’t know what happened.  I mean I knew what happened, I was caring about myself.  But it was strange and scary. And I continued to keep caring.  And it’s been 10 years since that summer. 

When I was walking to the farmers market this past weekend, I thought about how I could walk for miles, now, and not feel it.  I thought about how I can eat my way through the best meal and food filled weekend and know it’s only food and nothing more.  

I’d been trying to hunt down golden beets for a month now.  However, I haven’t been successful in my hunt until this past weekend.  I came across the beets pictured above, and they sang to me.  And I sang back.  We went back and forth in Ben Harper lyrics, of course.  No, I didn’t sing out loud.  Although I do think the crunchy 8am farmers market crowd would’ve been totally down with it.

I kept it between me and my beets.   

I hear vegetables and they hear me.
I know Gold To Me is about love and being adored and shit like that, but these golden beets are love.  And I do adore them.  And they reminded me of my summer.  A summer that was amazing.     

So, I made a big fat roasted beet salad with candied walnuts and honey shallot vinaigrette and celebrated a bounty of gold I could not only eat - but a bowl I could stare into and see my life and little bit of love.  

For Beets

4 golden beets (peeled and cubed)
3 T. olive oil
4 oz. honeyed goat cheese (regular is cool too, if you can’t find one with honey)
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

-Preheat oven to 400 degrees
-Toss beats with olive oil, salt, pepper and roast for 35-40 minutes until fork tender
-Put aside to cool
*reserve goat cheese for serving 

For Candied Walnuts 

1 c. walnuts (I use halves)
3/4 c. sugar
2 T. cayenne
Kosher salt

-Heat a large non-stick pan over a medium high flame
-Add sugar, walnuts, cayenne and salt
-Mix/stir around until sugar begins to melt, constantly moving/coating the nuts so they do not burn
-When nuts are completely candied, transfer to a silpat (or foil coated with non-stick spray) until they cool

For Vinaigrette

1/2 shallot (diced)
2 T. white balsamic vinegar
2 tsp. honey
3 T. extra virgin olive oil
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper  

-Place all ingredients in a bowl and whisk well

For Assembling Salad

-Place beets on a large platter, sprinkle with candied walnuts and top with goat cheese
-Drizzle with vinaigrette and serve

*Makes a great side to summer pastas like pesto or to meat and chicken dishes
*Or, if you’re me, you’ll eat this with a honk of bread and glass of wine and call it a night 

Squash Flower Zeppoles

*Recipe follows story

I went kind of crazy at the farmers market this weekend.

I woke up at 7am, walked a lovely and quiet 2 miles to Socrates Sculpture Park, to be greeted by a piece of my childhood.

No, my Uncle Louie was not standing in the park trying to push his excess bulk of 4th of July fireworks on the cheap (to rowdy teenagers and daring dads who wanted to stock up early for next year).

No.

But there was a man, at a stand, selling sumptuous squash flowers.

And not to sound all: I’m so Italian my grandpa and I would pick squash flowers on Summer mornings - and we’d give them to my grandma to make for us after dinner -but we did.

I remember waiting all winter long.  Waiting for that moment I could enjoy a deep fried and salty squash flower again.

I would sit at the dining room table, in our apartment, in the chair that faced our big picture window.  I’d stare out into the garden, right where the squash flowers would grow, and I’d will them to bloom. All while I pined over my childhood crush Robert Kelly III.  The squash flowers never bloomed in winter, much like my love for Robert Kelly III which was unrequited.

When summer finally came, which felt like forever (when you’re cooped up in an apartment with your 2 siblings, mom, dad, grandma, grandpa and 3 uncles), I was partially liberated.  

Squash flower picking was the one time my grandpa would let me step on his soil - the one time I could grace a yard filled with grass - that was otherwise deemed untouchable - except when grandpa wasn’t home and Uncle Gino was watching my brothers and I.

And, so, after I would bring my grandma a basket of freshly picked squash flowers, she would trim the bottom, remove the stamen from the flower, pat them clean, and prep the dough.

The dough was simple, just flour, water, salt, pepper and parmigiano.  She then sprinkled a little yeast on top then, finally, the flowers were folded in.

I would watch her move the bowl of dough, that was covered with an old Corelle plate, to the top of the stove, so it could sit and rise.

I would be thinking about zeppoles all day long.
The thought of that bowl covered with a Corelle plate tortured my tubby existence.  
It would be 7am and I couldn’t wait until 7pm.

Much like I longed all year for my grandmas Easter Lamb,  sitting in church, waiting for the moment we would gather at the table and eat;  I wished away my summer days - hoping my prayers would bring a faster approach for the zeppole to meet my mouth.  

If I could have pressed fast forward, most of those flower picking days, I would have.

My mom sent me to free summer camp.
I hated free summer camp.

And when free summer camp was over, she sent me to vacation Bible school.
I hated vacation Bible school.

These were not very good distractions.  
At all.
While other kids made lanyards, painted popsicle sticks and played dodge ball, I fantasized about fried dough.  I kept to myself, reading in a corner, wishing my family could have enrolled me in competitive eating camp - or better - to be allowed to stay home, pick squash flowers and play on the grass all day long; then I wouldn’t have to wait until dinner time for zeppoles, I could eat them all day.     

Right after my farmers market find, the first people I needed to call were my mom and dad.  They moaned.  They moaned with a huff which denoted a longing to go back to 1988. I heard this tone in my dad’s voice.  Half happy I stumbled upon the squash flower, half sad he wouldn’t reap the benefits.  He asked if I could ship them down to him.  And, if it were possible, I would have. He’s made my mom look all over Murrells Inlet South Carolina, and the surrounding towns, for squash flowers, but to no avail.  

Not a single squash flower to be found around their parts.

So, this is for you - dad.

You know how you tell me I light up your life - every time I call the house and you pick up the phone - well, you do the same for me.  My lessons on food love were always taken to heart.  

I ate enough zeppoles for you, mommy, Tommy, Louie, Grandma, Grandpa, Uncle Anthony, Uncle Louie and Uncle Gino.

You would have been proud.  

12 squash flowers (trimmed, stamen removed and cleaned)
1 1/2 c. all purpose flour
1 1/4 c. tap water
1/2 c. grated parmigiano cheese
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 T. (or so) of dry active yeast

-Place flour, water, cheese, salt, pepper and yeast in a large bowl - and whisk until blended
-Fold in squash flowers, cover bowl, and let rise for a few hours
-Fill a sauce pan with 1 quart of vegetable oil, let heat, and add dough (one by one) and let fry until golden brown (repeat)
-Sprinkle with coarse salt and serve hot and oily 

Fried Eggplant With Pesto & Plum Tomatoes

*Recipe follows story

Sangwich: also known as a sandwich  

My grandma used to do this amazing thing to slices of eggplant…
She’d fry them.

I know.  Revolutionary.
Freshly fried, slippery dippery eggplant on bread, with mozzarella, basil and tomatoes was one of my favorite after school sangwiches when I was a tubby little tot.

This sangwich thought made my somewhat shitty day a little bit more manageable.  Imagining myself in pig tails, running through a sprinkler, feet jumping on our concrete playground - because God forbid we played on the grass - sangwiches, and biting into whole leaves basil was mood altering.   

I was giving myself agita and making mental checklists all day, which is never a good thing when one is already losing it.

My list went something like this:

-annoyed at myself for having an expired Learner’s Permit
-3 written tests later, still no NY drivers license… 
-carrying a passport everywhere, so I have a valid form of age identification, is just really freaking bulky and adds to the list of things I could potentially lose in my bottomless purse
-I just don’t want to wait on line at the DMV
-Going to the laundromat is daunting, even though I pre-sort before I get there

My mom doesn’t drive.
And she loves to cook.

Great, I am my mom.

But my mom has a washing machine and dryer now.
Point, mom.

Fuck. 

Throughout the day I thought some more about a fried eggplant sangwich.
Throughout the day I thought about making my first pesto of the summer.  

Sure, I was also bloated and I was PMS-ing - which was probably contributing to my heightened crankiness and shit list making.

But I put my shit list aside.   

On my way home from work I went into the market and picked up 2 plum tomatoes - because some little old Italian lady was feeling them up like a 13 year old boy would do to some chicks knockers while playing seven minutes in heaven in a closet, and I always trust old Italian ladies groping vegetables - she had to be on to something.  Then I went in for 2 holland eggplants because they were firm and cute and compact, like a small stocky man, and a bunch of basil because for the first time in two weeks my favorite herb didn’t look dead.  Basil at my market has been looking shoddy lately, but tonight the basil looked very much alive.  Alive, unlike me.

Isn’t it ironic?  Don’t you think?

For dinner, I placed slices of fried eggplant between layers of pesto and thin slices of plum tomatoes.  I skipped the bread because I thought it would only add to my bloat.

I felt accomplished.
I ate.
I refilled my wine glass thrice.   

I also thought this nom would work well as a summer appetizer if I ever invite anyone over to my place again.  Since I can only have 3 other bodies in my house at once - max.  Clearly, I have some friend selecting to tend to.  

I was also equipped with lunchtime leftovers, so I packed three tupperwares to take to work the following day. 
At 1:30pm I plated my fried eggplant and tomatoes at my tiny desk.  I spread pesto and layered, and took bites like I was in my own home.

I made a sample for my buddy Crobin, and I walked out of my cubicle with a proud smile and a container of pesto.

I wafted the heavenly basil and garlic scent towards Crobin and said, “smell my pesto.”

He told me I’m nuts and then said it smelled lovely.
He also asked me if that’s what I say to all the boys.
I replied, “No, I usually say smell my pesto - bitch.”

Whole new level.

Yes, I’m still single. 

I don’t know that my grandmother would be too proud of the statement above, but she would be happy that I cooked - even when I was tired - and managed to share.  I think she’d enjoy my take on her bread-less sangwich.  My grandma also never drove, but she did have a washer and dryer.  I have goals, and I have time to accomplish them.  

Drivers License and Washer/Dryer 2015.
Shit, I shouldn’t have written that down.
What if I fail? 
35, no license and no washer/dryer - this could spin me into a Xanax vortex.   

But, for now, the secret to fried eggplant and a perfect summer pesto (and a bloat free substantial mock sangwich) can be found below.

2 plum tomatoes (sliced into rounds, not too thick)
2 holland eggplants (sliced lengthwise, salted and laid out between plates and paper towels so all water is released - otherwise your eggplant will not brown)
2 T. olive oil (for frying)
Extra Sharp Provolone Cheese (optional)  

For Pesto

2 c. basil leaves
2 cloves garlic  
1/2 c. extra virgin olive oil
1/3 c. parmigiano
2 T. each of toasted pignoli nuts & walnuts (optional)
Kosher salt & freshly ground pepper

-Heat olive oil over medium heat
-Add eggplant and fry until browned, about 2-2 1/2 minutes per side
-Drain on paper towel and put aside

For Pesto 

-Place the walnuts, pignolis, and garlic in a food processor and process until finely chopped
-Add basil leaves, salt, and pepper
-With the processor running, pour the olive oil (slowly) through the feed tube and process until the pesto is thoroughly pureed
-Remove mixture from the processor and place in a bowl
-Add the parmigiano and incorporate well
-Serve, or store the pesto in the refrigerator or freezer 

For Assembly

-Place tomatoes, lengthwise, on a plate and drizzle with pesto
-Top layer with a very thin piece of provolone
-Place eggplant a top, repeat with drizzling pesto and thinly sliced provolone
-Finish by topping with tomato and pesto

Nom and tell someone to smell your pesto.   

Green Bean Salad With Shallot & Honey Vinaigrette

*Recipe follows story

Double your bean fun with this light summer salad side; where green beans and chickpeas come together for a fearless tag team of fiber and tastiness.  

This salad and dressing combination should be at the top of the list for “Things That’ll Make You Go Nom.”

Eve, Dikenta and I enjoyed this salad with the risotto I made for Eve’s birthday dinner. And it paired lovely with sharp provolone and thin rounds of sweet soppressata.

Green Bean Salad

1 lb. green beans (boiled and blanched)
1 15 oz. can of chickpeas (drained and rinsed)
1 pint cherry tomatoes (halved)

-Place all items on a large platter and put aside while dressing is prepared

For Vinaigrette

1 shallot (minced)
1 T. fresh parsley (minced)
3 T. white wine vinegar
2 tsp. honey
1/3 c. extra virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

-Place all ingredients in a bowl and whisk well
-Drizzle over Green Bean Salad and toss to coat