Julie and Julia

I just finished the book.  I watched the movie a few months ago and really enjoyed it.  A cute little chick flick, exactly as they wanted it to be.  When I was reading the book, there were a few times when it hit me that I really didn't like Julie so much.  Then the lightbulb went off.  She's not a fictional character.  She's a real woman with real feelings, emotions, and everything that goes along with it. You're not going to like a person every second of the day.  There is a lot of good, a lot of bad, a lot of not-so-pretty parts.  A friend of mine calls them the 'prickly parts.'  An apt description.

What I will tell you is that about half-way through the book, I realized that I felt a little kinship with her.  I identified with a lot of how she was feeling.  A young girl with no clear path, working for a government agency because it paid the bills and having a lot of frustration.  Okay...so I may not be all that young, I don't work for a government agency but I do have a lot of frustration.  I work for a company that hasn't given out raises to its employees in about 4 years, yet managed to spend thousands (if not millions) on new 'props' that were infested with some kind of Asian wood beetle (these props then had to be picked up, sent out, fumigated and returned--and the problem still exists.), expects more and more with giving less and expects the American consumer to drop $100 on a 100% polyester garment.

This does not make me special.  I can only imagine the millions of people who feel exactly as I do.  It's been a stressful couple of weeks, culminating in a huge disappointment for energy put in and being shot down.  I'm tired of running on the hamster wheel.  This is not the daily grind I want to be a part of.  While I'm not going to pick up a copy of 'Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume 2' and blogging about it, I am going to push back the blinders, break out of the old, heavy-as-cement habits and move forward finding that niche where I wake up in the morning with my soul singing.

And if it involves cooking....all the better.

Some Days...

..it isn't about spending all one's time trying to perfect a recipe and making a pile of dirty dishes with the effort.  On some days, food is about simplicity.  Tonight was just that kind of day.  Thanks to another care package [Thanks, Mom and Dad!], dinner was an example of good, simple food.  In that box was a lovely bell-shaped piece of Italian cheese known as Ricotta Salata.

When I was young, I remember we only had ricotta salata when one of my aunts went to Italy and smuggled it back in the luggage.  I also remember when I was young, I rarely ate pasta with red sauce.  It was plain pasta for me.  Heresy, I know.  But let me tell you how good my pasta or ravioli was when we had ricotta salata in the house.  I remember the same bell shape.  The outside was a gold-light brown hue from the aging and was really salty.  But inside...oh, inside was white and smooth as silk and made my mouth happy.  I would grate so much on top of my pasta it bordered on ridiculous.  Mounds of it.  If the pasta was warm enough, the cheese would begin to melt.  This was bliss.

My tastes have matured.  Tonight was a notch above plain pasta.  Tossed with a little butter and a hearty sprinkling of fresh cracked pepper.  I've also learned moderation.  There wasn't a mountain of grated cheese on my farfalle, but just enough.  I won't lie and say I wasn't tempted to keep piling it on.  But as I said, I've learned moderation.

Some days it's about good, simple food and what it reminds you of.

Reaping the Bounty...

Okay, it's been a very small bounty, but I'm thrilled that I grew more than my usual basil and parsley.  So far, I've been mostly successful with the arugula and microgreens.  But I noticed yesterday that the arugula was looking a little...well...sparse.  It seems I'm not the only one around who is digging it.  I found a little colony of caterpillars who have taken up residence and munched away.  Looks like I now have another project---reading up on organic/pesticide free methods of keeping critters away!

Left with little more than empty stems, I re-potted with fennel seeds.  Let's see if I can grow those in a pot.  I'm on the verge of spending time perusing online seed catalogs.  I'm thinking of what will be grown next.  This is something I've really missed.  In my old digs, I had a balcony that I lovingly called 'the Jungle' because I had so many plants growing.  It was a little piece of heaven sitting out there with my bougainvillea, spider plants, basil, hibiscus, geraniums, and palm trees.  What I wouldn't do for my own backyard!

The caterpillars may have gotten the best of me and my arugula, but I was able to gather some microgreens this morning.  (You know I'll be keeping my eye on those plants now!)  I grilled a chicken breast this afternoon, made a bright parsley pesto with feta, almonds, Parmesan and a little lemon zest and threw it together with red bell pepper and green onions to make a quick chicken salad.  Stuffed into a pita and topped with those microgreens...I am happy with my bounty.

Before the caterpillar colony invaded

The Sweet and the Savoury

I love a dish that can be made with either sweet or savoury ingredients and most importantly, come together quickly and easily.  That's what I discovered when I made my first galette a couple of years ago.  Best defined as a free-form rustic tart, a galette is essentially a butter crust filled with fruit, vegetables, or even meat.  Read what David Lebovitz says about galettes here.

The first galette I made was with apples.  Like an apple pie, but without the pie plate.  I like the free-form.  A lot. No near-perfect discs of crust to cut out and delicately lay in my pie plate.  No little crimping wheel to edge my top crust.  Make a disc of dough (roughly-shaped is okay), roll it out, fill with fruits or what have you, fold the edges in to hold all your goodies inside, pop it in the oven and bake.  Boom!  Done!

Last week I came across an article on Saveur's website on what to do with zucchini.  It's summer...zucchini, zucchini everywhere!  My home was no different.  I wanted something to do other than zucchini bread (though I'm still going to make it) or sauted and tossed with pasta (it was delicious!).  There it was....a leek and zucchini galette.  Ooooh....it sounded so good.  I became a little obsessed with wanting to make it.  Posting the link on my Facebook page, checking my butter stock in the fridge, impatiently waiting for the farmers' market right in front of my store so I could buy leeks.  Then it happened.  A change of schedule at work.  An earlier release so I had ample time to make my galette and not be eating dinner at midnight.  The obsession would come to fruition.

Did I mention how easy it is to make a galette?  Don't even bother with a mixer or food processor to make your dough.  It comes together so quickly in a bowl.

Leek and Zucchini Galette
(Adapted from a recipe on Saveur)

Crust

1 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon sugar
8 tablespoons butter, cut in pieces
4-6 tablespoons cold water

Mix dry ingredients together.  Add butter and incorporate into flour with 2 knives,  pastry cutter or your hands.  You want a consistency of large crumbs.  I started off using the pastry cutter and finished using my hands.   Add 4 tablespoons of water to flour and stir with wooden spoon.  You want the dough to mix and pull away from the sides of the bowl.  This will happen...easily.  If mix is too dry, add more water tablespoon by tablespoon.  Fold dough together, don't worry if you have bits of butter showing.  Form into a disc, cover with plastic wrap and chill for an hour.

Filling

3 tablespoons olive oil

2 medium leeks, sliced thin

2 cloves of garlic, minced

1/4 teaspoon dried thyme

pinch of nutmeg

2 cups thinly sliced zucchini

In a pan, heat the olive oil.  Add leeks and slowly cook until they begin to brown.  Stir in garlic, thyme and nutmeg.  Mix to incorporate and remove from heat.  Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  Line a baking sheet with parchment paper (so you can move the galette easily).  On a lightly floured board, roll dough out to form about a 12-inch crust.  Leave about an inch-inch and a half edge on the crust and spoon leeks onto crust.  Layer zucchini slices on top of leeks.  You can make this as pretty or not as you like.  Fold edges of crust over and lightly brush zucchini with a bit of olive oil.  Bake for about 40-50 minutes or until crust is golden brown.  Remove from baking sheet and transfer to a wire rack.  

The Saveur recipe calls for a lemon-ricotta topping.  I didn't have ricotta, but I did have feta.  I mashed feta until it was smooth, added about a teaspoon of lemon zest and called it a day.  The feta has a nice bite to the mellow taste of the leeks and zucchini.  

I'm still obsessing...the weekend has just begun....I bought plums and nectarines at the grocer's...and I've got butter.

If You Haven't Noticed...

...I am obsessed with lemon.  All citrus, really....but lemon really floats my boat.  My favourite cookies, Italian Polenta Cookies, have lemon in them...I think the original intention was a whiff of lemon.  Mine kind of slap you in the face (in a good way!).  Last year, my birthday cupcakes were lemon-lavender.  Two batches of lemon curd have been made and consumed in as many months.  I've made blueberry-lemon scones, lemon-lavender cookies and candied lemon peel (hands down better than orange and the best candy EVER!).  Hell, even the ricotta I made over the weekend has lemon juice in it.  And yes, I added a touch more to the point where with a bite here and there, you catch that tangy zing of lemon.

So this should come as no surprise to you that I made another baked good with lemon.  Lemon Olive Oil cake.  This has also been an obsession of mine.  Just the idea of using olive oil in a cake seemed so...well...Italian!  I had to make it.  (Shocking I know!)  It's going to be a go-to recipe for me.  Simple.  Delicious.  I kept the lemon to a whisper...okay, okay...in the cake it's a whisper, I won't even talk about the lemon glaze on top.

I have to sheepishly admit that I ate not one...but TWO slices the night I made it.  It's that good.

Thanks to Annalise from 'And Now for Something Completely Delicious' and her adapted recipe from Epicurious.

Take One....

I know there are whole cookbooks out there that try to replicate dishes from various restaurants.  I don't know if I really believe it's necessary, because isn't that part of the thrill of going out to a restaurant?  You go and typically order something you cannot get at home.

Aaaannnnd maybe I'm a liar.  Well...not totally.  There are dishes that I crave.  So good I can't stop thinking about them.  This is where my head was at over the weekend.  I was craving pizza.  But not just any pizza.  I wanted The Burrata Pie from Pit Fire Pizza.  The great part is that it's just down the street.  The not-so-great part is that it's a luxury to go out to dinner.  Being broke budget-conscious as I am, I just don't spend the money to eat out. What to do?  What to do?  I know!  I'll try to make it myself.  At home.  I'll slide that crust topped with burrata, pesto, carmelized onions and hazelnuts right into my wood-fired oven.  Right.  :::sigh:::

I remember the first time I had the Burrata Pie.  I read the description and was fascinated by the use of arugula.  I thought it would be similar to a spinach pizza.  Nope.  Not even.  The arugula goes on top of the pizza after it's taken out of the oven.  So it's still crisp.  A touch cool.  The perfect foil for the warmth radiating from the crust and melted cheese.  I tried to be dainty that night and refrain from eating the whole thing.  I failed.  Miserably.

I cheated a little bit.  I stopped at Trader Joe's after work and picked up their pizza dough instead of making it myself.  It was a matter of whether I wanted to have dinner at 9 pm or 10:30 pm.  I opted for the earlier.  With a bag of herb dough in my hand, I decided I wasn't going to try to make it exactly like Pitfire.  That would only bring disappointment, since I had the taste in my mouth just thinking about it.  I bought fresh mozzarella instead of burrata and arugula.  It is my current obsession of the vegetable world.  CANNOT get enough.  Instead of hazelnuts, I opted for walnuts and happily had roasted red pepper pesto at home.

Let me tell you...I tried to be dainty and not eat the whole thing.  I failed again.  Miserably.

Fresh Mozzarella and Arugula Pizza
(loosely based on the Burrata Pie from Pitfire Pizza)

Pizza dough (homemade or store bought)
Pesto
Fresh Mozzarella
Walnuts, about 3 tablespoons
Arugula, about 1-1 1/2 cups

Pour yourself a glass of wine.  Preheat oven at 400 degrees.  Let the dough rest for about 20 minutes on a floured board.  I used half to make a pizza for one (or two).  Save the rest for breadsticks or as I made the next day, stromboli!  Roll the dough out and place on baking sheet.  I baked the crust alone for about 8 minutes, then took it out of the oven and topped it with about 2 tablespoons pesto, sliced fresh mozzarella and crushed walnuts.  Bake for about 16 minutes.  In a bowl, add arugula with a drizzle of olive oil.  Toss to coat lightly.  Top pizza with arugula when you take it out of the oven and sprinkle with more walnuts.  Cut, pour another glass of wine, sit and eat.  Try not to eat the whole thing.

Showing my Roots...

I'm Italian.  'Duh' some of you are thinking, 'we know that.'  All right, fine...you know that.  I'm proud of it...damn proud.  So much so that I downplay the Polish heritage in me (which is bad).  I don't do it on purpose. Maybe it's because I always felt that the Italian side was at the forefront growing up.  Living in an Italian neighbourhood.  Having a dad that actually came from ITALY.  Across the ocean, for god's sake! Hearing dad talk to his sisters, brother, parents, nephews, etc in Italian.  Even though I didn't understand a word of it (and only learned Italian a couple of years ago), I loved hearing it.  I was fascinated.  It was romantic...foreign...strange.

One of my aunts had two kitchens.  The 'normal' one upstairs that was adjacent to the dining room, then the one in the basement where ALL the good stuff happened.  The baking of bread, the making of pasta and huge pots of sauce.  I remember a big table in that kitchen.  At least it was big to an 8-year old.   The door leading out to the small back yard where you could see the garden with its tomatoes, peppers, zucchini.  The ubiquitous glasses of 7-Up offered to me.  It was all so magical.  Like you had to be 'in' on the secret.  How to bake the best loaf of bread.  Crusty outside, soft and airy inside.  How to make the perfect pasta.  Semolina dough rolled and cut to the right proportions.  The Old Country Secret Sauce. The slow simmer of sauce on the stove, the air laden with the scent of ripe tomatoes and garlic.

Maybe that's why I never tried making pasta before.  I didn't know if I would be able to capture the magic.  It was always one of those things that seemed out of reach in all the cooking I've done.  I used the excuse that I didn't have a pasta machine.  (Though at one point over the years I did and never did a damn thing with it other than donate it to the Goodwill during a Spring Cleaning binge).  Guess what?  You don't need a pasta machine to make pasta.  Shocking.  Or maybe I just realised that I was ready to give it a shot.  Hell, if it turned out crappy, you'd never be the wiser.  No mention would be made.  No pictures taken.  There would be no evidence of my kitchen covered in flour.

I bought a bag of semolina a couple of months ago.  I'm still going to make pasta with it...someday.  Probably sooner than later now that I know I can make the easy stuff.  Gnocchi...those little pillows of dough.  Chewy, dense and delicious.  Ricotta gnocchi.  I'll still have to make potato gnocchi, but when you have ricotta in the fridge, well, seriously....food with cheese is always better than food without, right?

Ricotta gnocchi....and to take it that one Italian notch higher....with homemade pasta sauce (one of the first things I ever learned to make on my own).

Easy Ricotta Gnocchi
From The Kitchn

*Note:  I used a combination of grated Pecorino Romano and Aged Asiago for the half cup of cheese.

Little Pillows of Dough

Covered in Secret Pasta Sauce

After Cooking