Spring Risotto recipe

While some may argue that risotto is more of a winter comfort food, this Sunday I whipped up a Mother's Day risotto that was the perfect combination of spring freshness and flavors. It was a modified version of Ina Garten's (a.k.a. the Barefoot Contessa), and despite her being one of my less-favorite Food Network pundits, I thought her Hamptons cooking would be just right for a beach-front Mother's day brunch. Isn't it purty?
Here's her recipe with my modifications:

Ingredients

nocoupons

• 1 1/2 tablespoons good olive oil
• 1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 3 cups chopped leeks, white and light green parts (2 leeks) (used 1 whole onion instead)
  
• 1 cup chopped fennel
• 1 1/2 cups Arborio rice
• 2/3 cup dry white wine
• 4 to 5 cups simmering chicken stock, preferably homemade
• 1 pound thin asparagus
• 10 ounces frozen peas, defrosted, or 1 1/2 cups shelled fresh peas
• 1 tablespoon freshly grated lemon zest (2 lemons)
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice (left it out--the risotto was quite lemony with just the zest and no extra juice)
  
• 1/3 cup mascarpone cheese, preferably Italian (left itout--risotto is creamy enough without marscepone)
  
• 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan, plus extra for serving
• 3 tablespoons minced fresh chives, plus extra for serving (left it out)
  

Directions

Heat the olive oil and butter in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the leeks and fennel and saute for 5 to 7 minutes, until tender. Add the rice and stir for a minute to coat with the vegetables, oil, and butter. Add the white wine and simmer over low heat, stirring constantly, until most of the wine has been absorbed. Add the chicken stock, 2 ladles at a time, stirring almost constantly and waiting for the stock to be absorbed before adding more. This process should take 25 to 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, cut the asparagus diagonally in 1 1/2-inch lengths and discard the tough ends. Blanch in boiling salted water for 4 to 5 minutes, until al dente. Drain and cool immediately in ice water. (If using fresh peas, blanch them in boiling water for a few minutes until the starchiness is gone.)

When the risotto has been cooking for 15 minutes, drain the asparagus and add it to the risotto with the peas, lemon zest, 2 teaspoons salt, and 1 teaspoon pepper. Continue cooking and adding stock, stirring almost constantly, until the rice is tender but still firm.

Whisk the lemon juice and mascarpone together in a small bowl. When the risotto is done, turn off the heat and stir in the mascarpone mixture plus the Parmesan cheese and chives. Set aside, off the heat, for a few minutes, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and serve hot with a sprinkling of chives and more Parmesan cheese.

Free Eats: Battery Park!!!

Drum roll please...

I've discovered the first and I think the only free eats in Battery Park. They hail from Inatteso, the brand new Italian cafe on the ground floor of the Millennium Tower (3o West Street). The Casano family [of Adrienne's Pizzabar, Harry's Steakhouse and Ulysses] owns and operates both the cafe and the recently opened Inatteso Pizzabar Casano, where I once devoured an entire Grandma style brick-oven pie topped with broccoli rabe and sausage (in my fatter, paying days).

So what's for free? Well since the cafe is still new, they've been sampling a variety of stuff to familiarize their neighbors with the local goods...like Italian cheeses imported from Brooklyn, and homemade signature desserts that have that "straight out of Sicily" deliciousness. While the Nutella cake will cost you $5 a slice, it's rich and worth a try. For something more budget-friendly, ask for their chocolate chip cookie. It's quickly becoming one of the most-talked-about cookies in Battery Park and I can attest, it's got more chocolate chunks per square inch than any cookies I've seen South of the border (Canal Street). I recommend having all of the Inatteso sweets (free or purchased) with a strong cup of Lavazza espresso, served fresh in adorable espresso-sized takeaway cups. A small detail I always take issue with at Starbucks where I'm usually served [burnt] espresso in a grande cup. So unsatisfying.

Italian Candy: Pocket Coffee

I discovered Pocket Coffee in one of the school faculty rooms in Italy and was instantly hooked. I'm not surprised, as it comes from my friends at Ferrero, the manufacturers of my other guilty pleasure, Nutella.

From the outside, Pocket Coffee is just a small bite of semi-sweet chocolate. But the liquid center is 100% pure Italian espresso. Delicious and practical! I love it.

Here's my grandfather biting into his first Pocket Coffee. I think he liked it too.


Just a word of caution: Each bite of Pocket Coffee packs 12.5 grams of fat.

Ombralonga: An Italian "Wine Crawl"

Each October, wine lovers pour into the sleepy city of Treviso by the tens of thousands for one of Italy's most festive enogastronomic events, the Ombralonga.

Ombra literally means shadow but in Venetian dialect an ombra is a glass of wine, and there isn't a shadow of doubt that Ombralonga's partiers are serious about their vino. But they have good reason to be. The Veneto region is brimming with incredible vineyards that produce Prosecco, Soave and Veneto's biggest red, Amarone, from the Valley of Valpolicella.

Le Ombre

This year, the Ombralonga is at 10am on Sunday, October 19. Upon arrival you'll pay €10 for all the day's essentials: a cup, a cup-holder that you wear around your neck, a map of the historic city center, an apron, and a spork. Yes, a spork.

And you're off. Go at your own pace as you meander in and out of the city's osterie and enoteche which all offer local wines paired with typical Trevigano dishes, including polenta and risotto with radicchio and porchetta trevigiana.

Piazza dei Signori

Piazza Borsa and Piazza dei Signori will likely be the best places to mingle with other young revelers, listen to music, and witness the true (and often drunken) spectacle of Ombralonga. From Piazza dei Signori follow the crowds down the narrow Vicolo Barberia to Osteria dalla Gigia for the best mozzarella in carozza you've ever tasted. Gooey mozzarella cheese deep-fried between two pieces of oily bread and served piping hot. It complements any wine buzz and is the perfect way to complete this traditional and tasty tour of Treviso.

[Photos: La Tribuna di Treviso]

Eureka! Obika.

In New York City, it's not often that a restaurant can claim to be "the first", "history-making, " "never-been-done-before." But next week Italians will do it with the opening of Obika, Manhattan's first mozzarella bar. I couldn't be more excited.

The bar takes style cues from the Japanese and ingredients from Campania; we're talking mouth-watering Mozzarella di Bufala DOP on a direct flight from Paestum to Madison Avenue. It's the freshest you'll get in the city.

Adding to my delight for this place is the aperitivo-style menu that allows you to create small plates all centered around your desired glob of cheese, with accessories like fresh tomatoes and pesto, bresaola, anchovies and prosciutto. Now just add some smartly dressed European sophisticates and a tad of loungy house music and you'll be transported right back to Milan...or Turin...or Rome (the other three Obika locations).

Or not, seeing as this mozzarella mecca has taken residence in the lobby of the IBM building. In Midtown. On the East Side. And if you ask me, there's nothing like corporate American tecchies to remind you that you're NOT in Europe at all. I will, however, make an exception to my "never dine above 23rd Street" rule and see for myself next week.

Stay tuned for a full review of Obika.

When life gives you lemons...

...make Limoncello. The simplest recipe I've been given for this potent cordial was from my Umbrian host mother, Rita. It was something like this:

1 Large jam jar
1 Gigantic lemon
Grain alcohol
Sugar

Heat the alcohol then pour it in the jar. Suspend the lemon in jar so it's not touching the alcohol and put the lid on. Let sit for 40 days so the lemon disintegrates. Add sugar to taste. Serve chilled after every meal for "digestion" and a lovely buzz.

My Umbrian host family on their rooftop terrace

Tutto x Tutti

Supermarkets in Italy are a joy. Especially the smaller, less Westernized alimentari which are often times nothing more than a room with a mish-mosh of boxes and products stacked ceiling-high. Forget about wheeling a cart and numbered aisles. You just sort of browse and eventually you find what you're looking for. Or better yet, ask. Italian store owners take huge pride in their merchandise, especially when it comes to food. A tomato is not just a tomato. It's like a work of art. Picasso and pomodori are equally as beautiful in Italy.


In Praiano, a coastal town only a few miles from Positano, my mother and I had an Italian supermarket experience to rival the "window shopping" night I had in Treviso.

The view from our apartment in Praiano

My friendly local grocer from Treviso

After a 30-minute vertical climb to upper Praiano, we found what we had been searching for--Tutto x Tutti, the town's only major supermarket. Immediately we were tickled by the colorful assortment of vegetables and fruit sitting in baskets out front, and the marvelously messy shelves of Italian treats inside. They really did have "everything for everyone," as they name implied.

Our basket quickly filled to the brim with the evening essentials: bottled aqua frizzante, peaches and pearcocce, a variety of peach that's firmer and more golden, prosciutto (to go with the fresh figs we were given from Giovanni our landlord), olio and miele to take home to my relatives. We were comparing the extra virginities of the oil when we were halted by a curious man. A local. My favorite kind of encounter.

He said "Hello", in English. I responded, "Salve." A shiny gold necklace was tangled in his grey chest hair, which was proudly on display. His blue workman's shirt was unbuttoned--almost completely. The topic of conversation moved this way and that, just like the melody of his sing-song Italian voice. From good local pasta, to the reason for my stay in Praiano to how beautiful my mom was.

"Ma lei è la sua sorella, non la mamma," he said cheekily.

When I told him she was, in fact, my "Mamma" and not my sister, it was as if something came over him. That's when he broke into song. Eerily, it was the song my Nana sings in the kitchen at every Sunday dinner.

It was one of those "only in Italy" moments. The kind you try to imagine happening at home and then laugh. It could never. After the serenade it was back to business for everyone. Our friend went on his way, the deli man sliced some prosciutto and then we checked out.

At the register I realized we had way too many heavy items to consider walking home. I asked for a bus schedule and before I could even figure out how to read it, the store owner was by my side explaining that his son, Pasquale, who was about my age and a beutiful specimen of Southern Italian, would be happy to give us a passagio home.

So after small talking with Pasquale through the rear view mirror and giving him the required double kiss for his chivalrous services, my mom and I said farewell, hit the kitchen and buzzed giddily all night about our fortuitous adventure through the alimentari.

Q and A: Bruschetta

Q: Jenny from Australia asks:

Isn't bruschetta made out of ham??

A: Pronounced "Bru-sket-ta" in Italian and one of the simplest aperitivo snacks, bruschetta is typically slices of crusty toasted bread, drizzled with extra virgin olive oil and rubbed with seasoning, usually garlic. Then come the toppings which area as varied as regional Italian cuisine.


The most classic bruschetta is topped with chopped tomatoes, marinated in extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic (and sometimes basil or oregano). But Bruschetta can also be topped with ham. I recommend Prosciutto di Parma.



I've even had bruschetta with lard, pâté, and my own concoction of pesto and fresh mozzarella which was a big hit with my Italian dinner guests.



If you're short for time and need a quick but satisfying first course, bruschetta is the perfect choice and pretty impossible to mess up. Just don't skimp on the extra virgin olive oil. Dry bruschetta is hard to bite through and not very flavorful.



Buon Appetito!

Peek-A-Boo & Olive Cake

In the midst of Italy's current political turmoil and corruption accusations, you can always turn to children for a dose of pure and simple innocence.

Take for example, Fillipo. He's 5 years old, half Swedish and one of the most curious cuties in my class. I noticed him spying on me when I was preparing my lesson in the classroom so I quickly grabbed my camera. I imagine he gets away with everything at home...I mean, how can you scold a child when he gives you this smile? It gets me every time.



Then there's, Matia, one of my 5-year-olds. In today's English lesson he was hard at work crafting the perfect birthday cake. First he drew 5 candles, and then he decided on the flavors of his three-layered delicacy. He thought for a second and then said, "Mia torta è olive, miele e cioccolata." My cake is olives, honey and chocolate. Totally oblivious to the clashing tastes, he spent several minutes designing green and brown olives on top of the cake and proudly rushed over to show me once he had finished. It was a masterpiece fit for Gourmet.

A Savory Serenade

They say singing to your plants will help them grow bigger. My Nana sings to her food, and I think that makes it taste better.

Today I overheard her serenading a pork roast.

Her voice resonated with nostalgia. It was most certainly a melody she learned as a child. I can imagine she picked it up as a little girl sitting on her kitchen floor in Brooklyn while her mother Antoinette hummed in Italian, just loud enough for the orecchiette to hear her and bubble to the top of the pot.


I scribbled down as many of the words as I could catch and (with the help of Google) discovered that my grandma was singing Mamma, made famous by one of the greatest Italian tenors of all time, Beniamino Gigli. Close your eyes and have a listen, it is simply beautiful (and if sung with affection, it makes for a succulent pork roast).


Do you serenade your food too? If so, send me a note and tell me what you sing!

Pizza Americana...Says Who?

I'm here to set the record straight after a hilarious discovery I made this week.

It is already distressing enough that an Italian's stereotype of Americans can be summed up in two words; McDonald's and pro-Bush. But this week I found out that Italians have concocted a pizza so disgusting and unhealthy that I can't imagine ever eating it -- and they convinently call it Pizza Americana.

This caloric masterpiece is a mish-mosh of a normal cheese pizza topped with HOT DOGS and FRENCH FRIES! I mean, why not just layer on some crumbled cellulite and sliced saddlebags to really give it that extra kick?

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for fusion cuisine. But to create such a cringe-worthy pizza and then claim that it hails from America is not ok in my book. I challenge anyone to find a pizzeria in America that uses french fries as toppings!

And while I'm at it, I'll clear up some other F.A.Q.s about my so-called American-ness:

1. No, I don't eat McDonald's 6 out of 7 days a week. Ironically, I can remember only one time I was in a McDonald's and it was in Thailand, at the request of my Italian ex-boyfriend.
   
2. No, I don't drive an S.U.V.


3. No, I'm not rich.


4. No, I don't support Bush.


5. Yes, on occasion I've been known to eat sausage, eggs and pancakes before 10am, with a side of hashbrowns and washed down with some American (dirty dish water) coffee.

If you happen to be in Italy and are feeling daring, you can find la Pizza Americana here:

Filippo's

Pizzeria Da Tullio

Al Passetto

Chestnuts Roasting...(you know the rest)

It's not likely that you'll find any chestnuts roasting on an open fire in New York City.  It might be more apropos to sing about greasy hot dogs or pretzels smothered in mustard.

But in Italy during winter, chestnuts are being roasted on street corners everywhere.  This weekend I had my first taste of one, and then 2, 3, and 4.  They were delicious!  A bit nutty and a delightful texture, it was like a juicy peach tastes on a hot  
summer day.  Just right.

Could it be that Mel Tormé's 1944 hit, "The Christmas  Song" was inspired by time he spent in Italy?  Let's see:

• Chestnuts roasting on an open fire (check)
• Folks dressed up like Eskimos (check)
• Jack Frost nipping at my nose (check...he's not exactly nipping, more like chopping down on my bitterly cold nose as I ride my bike to work at 6:30am)
• A turkey and some mistletoe.  Hmm.  Turkey (check...see Thanksgiving) but I've yet to land underneath anyone's mistletoe.
• Yuletide carols being sung by a choir.  (check... if you count my 13-year-old students singing High School Musical 2)

Well, wherever Mel sought inspiration I am glad he put pen to paper and whipped out this Christmas classic.  It's an all-time favorite of mine.  And now that I'm in my post-chestnut-eating glory, I'm even more in the Christmas spirit!  

Merry Merry!  

Photo credit:  rubbahslippahsinitaly.blogspot.com

Pa-Pa-Pa-Pa Parmigiano

I'm doing everything I can to absorb this language. I listen to songs on the radio, read the local METRO newspaper on the bus (in which I found a hilarious Dear Abby-type letter about "What to do if you are dating a mamma's boy") and have the TV on while I'm getting ready for work in the morning.

While I may not yet be exercizing the subtleties of this beautiful language, I can recite Italian commercial jingles like it's my job! I get the biggest kick out of this one, to the tune of the Beach Boy's Babara Ann.



Pa-Pa-Pa Parmigiano
Re-Re-Re-Re-Re-Reggiano


Yes, that's right. It's a commercial dedicated to everyone's favorite cheese, Parmigiano Reggiano. Not only is the jingle annoyingly catchy, but the commercial is a spin-off of the dancing Fruit of the Loom guys...think middle aged men wearing tights and assorted fruit costumes. Of course, the featured star of the commercial is a man dressed as a block of Parmesean cheese.


Only in Italy!


I think this is a YouTube video of the spot...I can't watch it on this computer but I hope you can!

An Italian Dinner Party

I have never experienced a dinner quite like Saturday's. It was an intimate gathering of 55 close friends at an agriturismo (a working farm that doubles as a hotel and restaurant) just outside the center of Roncade. I was graciously invited to the bi-annual festa by my friend Patrick who was also a tutor this summer. His host parents, Riccardo and Maria were the masterminds of what was one of the most hilarious and festive evenings I've ever had in Italy, and certainly one of the most memorable.









It began like any other Italian dinner - baskets of freshly baked bread placed on long rustic tables, and jugs of red wine poured into decievingly small glasses. Then came the antipasti - plates of polenta smothered in cheese, sopressa and warm marinated mushrooms. But it was not the food that took center stage this night. Before I could even finish my second bite of polenta, Riccardo had switched on the microphone and began the show. It began with jokes and greetings, all in Italian and all sending the audience into roaring laughter.

Then came the guitar and singing, followed by a request for all guest to swing our napkins round and round in the air, followed by an impromptu strip tease (down to boxer briefs) by the two males hosts of the affair. By this point I was in tears.


After a frenzied sing-a-long of YNCA (as the Italians say), and Macho Man, I thought I had seen it all...but then came Riccardo and Carlos freestyle rap. I will not do this video any justice by describing it with words. You just need to watch.

Now the party is out of control...a perfect time for a conga line. Mind you, there are other diners in the restaurant (or "victims" as Maria called them) who were not part of our party but had no other choice but to jump on the line. Riccardo was the leader of my particular conga line and guided us into and out of the restaurant's kitchen several times until about the 4th time when the owner of the restaurant stood there shaking his head, "NO".

More sing-a-longs and then it was time for the gift presentation. One by one, each woman at the party including the waitress, was handed a bag with sexy lace panties. Some of the more overserved gals even tried their new lingerie on over their clothes!


By 1am the espressos had been served, and everyone happily stumbled out of the restaurant thanking their hosts and anxiously awaiting the spring when they will do it all over again.

Where in the World Is...

I just caught myself singing the jingle of that old PBS series, Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego?, a rendition made famous by none other than Rockapella. I can't imagine why they never went mainstream. Their multi-colored suspenders and supreme scatting talent were unmatched! The bass was my favorite. He'd pop through the window and bellow, [Where in the world is] "Carmen Sandiego"!

OK, I digress, but perhaps my childhood fascination of globetrotting Carmen was the beginning of my travel bug? In any case I thought I'd post my own version of "Where in the World." Where I've been, where I am, and where I'm going!




June 2007:
-Left my marketing career at Vh1 in New York City on a one-way ticket to Sanremo, Italy. I spent one week with other 20-30 somethings participating in an intensive T.E.F.L. introductory language course.
-Shipped off to Sorrento to start teaching at my first A.C.L.E. English immersion camp. Weekends excursions to Capri and Positano helped my love affair with Italy take shape.










July:
- Boarded Air One flight to Torino for a one-week camp in the mountain village of Cuneo. Lived with a musical family in a house surrounded by corn fields.
- Spent weekend in Torino where I attended the most beautiful outdoor (free) concerts by Italian composer, Franco Battiato.
- Headed east to Milan and began another week-long camp in the sweltering city heat. Lived in a flat with others where I learned how to cook risotto and how to ride the bus for free.
- Went south to Moncucco, a minuscule village one hour outside Milan. Lived in a school classroom with another tutor.
- Went back Sanremo at the flat of A.C.L.E.'s "host with the most", Vince.


August:
- Spent the weekend in magical city in the south of France, Menton. Riding along the Ligurian coastline took my breath away.
- Backpacked through Cambodia & Thailand for three weeks. Non ci sono parole! Fantastico!!
- Returned to Italy for my final camp in Ciriè (Piemonte). A city small in stature, but huge in heart.





September:
- Mission "Surprise Sister" began with a covert flight back to New York, followed by the wrapping of a large box, which I jumped out of at her birthday party. (watch the video!)
- Nursed my grandfather back to health for a month after a full knee replacement. Spent my days at a care center, nights perfecting my Italian cooking style with nonna. Frittate seem to be my specialty but I've got a long way to go!



October:
- Accepted a six month teaching position in the north of Italy in a small city called Treviso. I will teach English through drama and conversation by day, and take Italian courses by night!

November:
- I leave for Venice (20 minutes from Treviso) in ONE WEEK!

Cuckoo in Moncucco

Despite being only 30 minutes from the bustling center of Milan, life in Moncucco is slow and a tad bizarre, but in the most charming way. Take, for example, my sleeping accommodations; a classroom in the town's Scuola Media, outfitted with two twin beds, two chairs, some cafeteria tables and a big chalkboard with "Home Sweet Home" written on it. I share it with sweet-as-can-be tutor, Carly, who I also worked with in Cuneo.

Living in a school is not as bad as it sounds. For example, I walk down the stairs of the Scuola Media and I'm at camp - a far cry from the hour-long commute in Milan! We have full reign of the school after hours and a few days ago we discovered an Audio Visual room with a flat screen TV, so we borrowed Chocolat from one of the Italian camp counselers and had a movie night! There's also a computer lab with internet access and a lovely pool with lounge chairs.

Our daily routine is just that, very routine. We eat our meals at a La Ca' di Ran, one of only three restaurants in Moncucco. The name is short for la Casa delle Rane (house of frogs). It's owners are delightful and prepare typical dishes for us each night ranging from mushroom risotto to stuffed peppers to breaded pork chops remiscent of my mother's!

Unlike other ACLE camps this is an Italian camp where Carly and I are only required to teach for 2-3 hours per day. We've been practicing our Italian frequently with the other 6 local counselors and mothers who come to the pool every evening.

In Moncucco the preferred mode of transport is bicycle. The 88-year-old grandfather of one of the Italian counselors arrived at La Ca' di Ran this morning for a coffee. His bike was parked outside. But, by far, the most active inhabitants of Moncucco are the mosquitoes who nearly mutiliated us during our first night's sleep. But by our fifth and final night here our classroom is smelling like a Citronella factory, we're doused in Deet and all is ok.

http://www.lacadiran.com/

There's Nothing like Home Cookin'

I finally got my film developed from Sorrento. Some great photos of my host family, The Garguilos. I stayed in grandma and grandpa's section of the house and the rest of the family lived in an adjacent cottage. Here we are enjoying one of many delicious meals in their garden.