Dateline: the Amalfi Coast

After three days in Rome, I was ready to get out of the city and see some of these scenic Italian vistas people are always gushing about. Our next stop was Sorrento, and in a fit of pig-headedness I decided that the best way to get there was to drive myself. It couldn’t be worse than Boston, could it?

The beginning of the four-hour drive was fine. Italy’s freeways are much like ours, with the addition of speed cameras that make you worry you’ll be getting an unexpected Italian souvenir in the mail a month after you arrive home (hello, speeding ticket?). Once off the highway, things were a bit different. Maneuvering a stick-shift Fiat through cobblestone roads that would pass for bike lanes here in the states, and along highways perched hundreds of feet above the sea is somewhat harrowing.

Still, with a peace of mind brought on only by opting into Hertz’s collision coverage (very pricey, but very worth it), I managed to get us to Sorrento without wetting my pants. The following day we took the ferry to Capri, got ripped off (hint: don’t opt for the private boat tour), and ate the worst pizza I’ve ever had.  Capri was otherwise charming; reminded me of an Italian Martha’s Vineyard, or maybe Nantucket. I’d go back.

Later that week , I drove the Amalfi highway to Positano, with only a slight delay due to a landslide (!). Positano was the stuff dreams are made of, rustic hillsides and breathtaking vistas. I wish I’d had a few days to just be there, soaking up sun, wandering through town and passing long afternoons drinking wine. We happened upon the most wonderful restaurant there: Cafe Bruno. Located on the main road, perhaps a mile up from the “center of town,” the restaurant was on one side of the street, while the patio seating was on the other, a set-up that required the waitresses to exercise some caution when serving. Overlooking the Mediterranean, with canvas umbrellas over the table and bougainvillea growing on a stone wall nearby, it looked almost too good to be true. So often, the food at places like this is out-shined by the view, but here it was the opposite. The shrimp were tender, the pasta was handmade. It was the best meal I had in Italy.

I should say that Il Buco was the best meal I had in Italy. It certainly was the most elegant- and most expensive. Beef cheek ravioli, calamari  two ways, beef filet and pork medallions… it was all exquisitely made. But to me, the beauty of being in Italy is that top-notch Italian is de rigor.  You can eat like a king on a peasant’s budget: indeed some of Italy’s best food is peasant food. That said, Il Buco was VERY good, and if you’re looking for a high-end dining experience in Sorrento, I wouldn’t hesitate to go there.

As Amalfi is also the birthplace of limoncello, I was more than obliged to try some.  One can hardly avoid it: the stuff is everywhere from souvenir shops to high-end restaurants. The limoncello at Buco was made in-house, and was a perfectly smooth combination of sweet, lemony essence. Made me think that maybe I should pull out my old recipe and try to perfect it…

Dateline: Rome

Rome the week before Thanksgiving? What was I thinking? Mostly, it was a great idea; gorgeous weather and no crowds. But between vacation, Thanksgiving and Christmas, I basically ate my way through two straight months.

The problem with vacationing in a spot where food is practically a national sport is that you feel like you have to eat everything. You want to try everything. I could have eaten pizza twice a day. I should have indulged in more panini. I didn’t eat nearly as many curious cuts as I would have liked, and truffles were grossly underrepresented. I didn’t ever find the pannacotta I was searching for, nor did I eat any cannoli or gelato. Crazy, right? Because in spite of all that, I managed to eat an extraordinary amount.

I think I managed to drink at least two Negroni everyday. The Italians tend to skimp on the gin, and play up the vermouth, but I still had some very, very fine ones. Generally, the more upscale the place the better the Negroni. I also ate some pretty spectacular pasta. Spaghetti cacio e pepe is the unofficial official dish of Rome; I loved the combination of black pepper and cheese so much that I had it for dinner two days in a row. I would have had it a third, but I felt like I needed to branch out and try something else.

Rome is a somewhat difficult city, I think. While I loved getting lost strolling through the tiny alleys, it was a huge challenge to get beyond the tourist traps to anything authentic. Perhaps it’s because we stayed in the heart of the city, but the good food I ate was more the result of dogged research than simply stumbling upon a good spot. That said, I did eat at two great places, both of which I’d highly recommend to fellow travelers.

1. Ditirombo in Campo de ‘Fiore. Located in an old wine cellar, this cozy restaurant relies on the freshest seasonal ingredients. The menu changes often, but I was enamored with their fried zucchini blossoms and pasta (cacio e pepe), while my companion had a suckling pig roasted in salt crust that was absolutely amazing. And while the food was outstanding, the prices were reasonable, with entrees around 15 euro.

2. Ristorante al 34 right near the Spanish Steps. I was actually kind of sad that I found this place on my last night in Rome because I would have liked to go back again. The menu is extensive, with lots of offal and traditional pastas. I thought my squid-ink tagliatelle was wonderful until I tried my companion’s truffled gnocchi. Wow. Just that dish is worth going back for: pillowy pasta baked in a light and earthy truffle cheese sauce. Also, the house wine goes for 11 euro a litre and is delicious.

The kicker at 34 was my main course: sweetbreads sautéed with artichokes. “You know what they are?” the waiter asked when I ordered. I nodded, at once insulted and then slightly worried. Never mind though, because they were some of the best sweetbreads I’ve ever eaten. The tender meat was offset by artichoke leaves that were fried until crunchy, an earthy ethereal experience that had me wishing my stomach was bigger. I had to give up after half the plate. (The waiter later redeemed himself by bringing us complimentary limoncellos.)

Know a spot in Rome that shouldn’t be missed? Please leave it in the comments below.

Spaghetti Cacio e Pepe
(Adapted from Saveur)

1 lb dried spaghetti
4 Tbsp olive oil
2 tsp freshly cracked black pepper, plus more to taste
1 cup finely grated Pecorino Romano cheese

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil. Add pasta and cook until 8 to 10 minutes until al dente. Reserve 1 cup pasta water and drain pasta.

Meanwhile, heat oil in a 12″ skillet over medium heat. Add pepper and cook until fragrant, about a minute. Add 3⁄4 cup pasta water into skillet and bring to a boil. Transfer pasta to skillet, spreading evenly over the bottom of the pan. Sprinkle 3⁄4 cup each cheese over pasta and toss vigorously. Combine until the  sauce is creamy and clings to the pasta without clumping, about 2 minutes (Add additional pasta water if necessary). Transfer to plates and sprinkle with remaining cheese and more pepper.

Serves 4.

tangy brisket

When it comes to cooking, I’m far more apt to bake than braise. Perhaps it’s the fact that I live alone. Or maybe it’s because there are so many grill-masters in my family already, while baking is a sort of under-represented talent. Regardless, I don’t cook a ton of meat, and I cook even fewer “large cuts.” Until recently, the thought of a roast beef, or whole turkey scared the bejezus out of me. So much meat! What if I messed it up???

Recent events have prompted me to reconsider my fear of big cuts. First was this recipe, and then my Thanksgiving turkey (which turned out wonderfully!). They’re great for feeding crowds without much work, and they make the nicest leftovers. My rule of thumb (for the time being, anyway) is to cook low and slow, which helps keep the meat tender, and to not try to do too much with it. Good meat is good meat. Let it speak for itself. Also, investing in a good meat thermometer helps.

The impetus for all this happened a few months ago when I got a hankering for brisket. Not dry rubbed Texas brisket, but swimming in sauce, sweet and tangy, slow braised brisket, like I had at the one and only Passover meal I’ve ever attended. Not having a Jewish mother at my disposal, I took matters into my own hands, did some internet research and headed to the market.

Side note: a funny thing happened at the market. All the briskets looked like meat doormats, all trimmed and square, with nary a shred of fat clinging to them. But I had a nice talk with the butcher, and he procured an untrimmed 8 lb. brisket from the back. If you go in search of brisket, this is what you want. The fat will melt in the cooking process and keep the meat moist.

Back in my kitchen, I used a Smitten Kitchen recipe for inspiration, adding my own improvisation for good measure. The result was spectacular. So spectacular, I didn’t end up with any of my coveted leftovers.

Tangy Brisket
(adapted from Smitten Kitchen)

3 large onions, sliced
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
6 garlic cloves, peeled and chopped
1 Tablespoon smoked paprika
1 Tablespoon salt
1 Tablespoon garlic powder
1 Tablespoon teaspoons black pepper
1 Tablespoon dried oregano
1 Tablespoon dried thyme
2 cups beef stock
1 cup ketchup
a few dashes of Cholula (add enough to your liking)
a few dashes of Worcestershire sauce
1 cup brown sugar (light or dark)
8 lb brisket
2 Tablespoons cornstarch (optional)

Preheat oven to 350. Slice onions and chop garlic. Heat oil in a large pan and add onions and garlic. Cook over medium-high heat until the onions are translucent. Set aside. In a large bowl combine the spices, stock, ketchup, hot sauce and brown sugar. Mix well and set aside.

Get your brisket and pat dry with a paper towel. Set meat in a large pan or casserole dish with the fattiest side up. Pour the sauce mixture over the top, and then add the onions. Cover the pan with foil (careful, it will likely be very full), and bake until the meat is fork tender 3 to 4 hours.

Remove the pan from the oven, uncover and let sit 30 minutes to an hour. Remove the brisket from the pan carefully (tongs and a spatula are a good way to do this) and transfer to a cutting board. Use a spoon to scrape the excess fat from the meat and discard. Set the meat aside to cool a bit.

You can serve the meat/sauce as is, or if you like a thicker, smoother sauce, continue on: Transfer the sauce/juices in the pan to a bowl and let sit for 10 minutes. Use a ladle to skim the fat off the top of the sauce. Then, use and immersion blender to blend it smooth. If you want a thicker sauce add a tablespoon or two of cornstarch and blend smooth again. Transfer sauce to a saucepan to warm up if it’s too cold for your taste.

Slice your brisket against the grain, about a quarter-inch thick. Arrange slices on a plate and top with sauce. Serve extra sauce on the side.

Chocolate chip cookies

After almost 20 years of baking various chocolate chip cookie recipes, I’m pleased to announce that the search for a perfect formula is done. I’ve found it and I never, ever will stray from it. Thank you internet, thank you Twitter, thank you food blogs.

I’d about given up on baking cookies, except for at Christmas. While my affection for a chocolate chip cookie borders on psychotic, I’d never been able to make a truly stellar batch.  To me, a good chocolate chip cookie is crisp on the edges, and gooey in the middle, a bit sweet and a bit salty, the perfect foil for a steaming cup of coffee. Yet whenever I tried making them they came out flat, or all puffy and cake-y. Often, the dough tasted better than the finished product.

Then a few weeks ago a tweet caught my eye about recipes that took off because of the internet, or something to that effect, and because procrastination is my middle name, I clicked. There, buried between tomato sauce with butter and onion and kale chips, I spied what is supposedly the best chocolate chip recipe ever, according to the New York Times. Time stopped at that moment. Angels might have started singing. I had a list of home improvement projects and friends I hadn’t seen in weeks, but I knew that weekend I would devote myself to making these cookies.

Fortunately, the recipe for these is super simple, especially when weighing your ingredients on a scale as opposed to measuring in cups. I had time not only to make cookies, but to finish painting my foyer, try Area Four (not a fan), make a pork roast and do several loads of laundry that weekend.  And the cookies? O-M-G. They were everything you want in a cookie. Even my sister, who’s sweet tooth is almost non-existent, ate three of them.

The premise of the NY Times version of this cookie is that you have to let the dough rest before baking it. While I did that with half the batch and found it made a mighty fine cookie, the half that got cooked right away were nothing to scoff at. Also, this recipe calls for chocolate discs, but as I’d just invested in some Guittard chips, I decided to go with them, and they seemed perfectly suited.  Lastly, I kept forgetting to sprinkle salt over the cookies before I baked them, but the ones with salt were definitely better. So try not to forget, OK?

I also took a tip from Orangette and scooped the dough into cookie-sized balls before refrigerating it. Much easier. Also, it enabled me to have a plate of ready-to-bake cookies in the fridge all week. Friends coming over? No one wants to eat three-day-old cookies. Instead, pop a few in the oven 20 minutes before guests arrive. They will think you’re a saint. And your house will smell great.

Make these cookies. You belly will thank you. Your loved ones will thank you. The internet will probably thank you too.

Chocolate chip cookies
(adapted from NY Times)

2 cups minus 2 tablespoons (8 1/2 ounces) cake flour
1 2/3 cups (8 1/2 ounces) all-purpose flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons coarse salt
2 1/2 sticks (1 1/4 cups) unsalted butter
1 1/4 cups (10 ounces) brown sugar
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (8 ounces) white sugar
2 large eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
12 ounces best-quality chocolate chips (at least 60 percent cocoa)
Sea salt to sprinkle

Sift flours, baking soda, baking powder and salt into a medium-sized bowl and set aside.
Using a mixer fitted with paddle attachment, cream butter and sugars together until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Stir in the vanilla. Reduce speed to low, and add dry ingredients a little at a time, mixing until just combined.

Remove paddle attachment and add chocolate chips. Stir in with a wooden spoon (by this time the dough is likely too stiff for the paddle). Use an ice cream scoop to create balls of dough about 3 ounces each. Place on a plate or tray, cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate over night. Dough can be used in batches, and can be refrigerated for up to 4 days.

When ready to bake, preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, and put dough balls on the pan (8 cookies on a standard-sized cookie sheet is about right). Sprinkle lightly with sea salt and bake until golden brown but still soft, 15 to 18 minutes. Let cook a few minutes in the pan before transferring to a wire rack.

Makes about 20 big cookies.

ricotta and figs (or figs and ricotta?)

Is there a more perfect fruit than the fig? Their Biblical origins, that mysterious skin cloaking vibrant colored flesh, their sweet, yet green, taste. In a world where we can get virtually anything on demand, I love that figs still have a season, and a fleeting one at that. They appear silently on my grocery store shelves sometime in September, and then disappear a few weeks later.

During those fleeting fall days, I eat as many as I can get my hands on, often doing nothing more than pinching the stems off between my fingers before devouring them in two or three bites. I’m rarely tempted to do anything fancier; they’re too good on their own.

Recently though, I found myself with almost a half-gallon of milk that was about to expire. Not wanting to waste it, I decided to make ricotta. One of my favorite desserts is a recipe for “Grilled stone fruits with sweetened ricotta” that I cut out of a newspaper years ago. While I don’t often grill stone fruits, I adore making sweetened ricotta, either to pair with fruit compote or to eat on it’s own, like a warm dish of ice cream. If the idea of sweetened cheese sounds revolting to you, think of cheesecake or cannoli. Not gross at all, is it?

Homemade ricotta is about a thousand times better than the store-bought stuff, and ridiculously easy to make (See my guide to five-minute ricotta, here). That said if you simply don’t want to play little Miss Muffett and separate curds and whey, you can of course use store-bought. I won’t tell.

After making the sweetened ricotta, it was just a matter of making a fig and ricotta parfait, with a bit of honey drizzled for good measure. If this doesn’t make you happy, nothing will.

Ricotta and figs

2 cups fresh ricotta cheese (homemade or otherwise)
2-4 Tablespoons milk or cream (use more if your ricotta is dry. You want a smooth consistency.)
4 Tablespoons sugar
1 Tablespoon pure vanilla extract
1 pint figs, quartered
2-3 Tablespoons honey (whatever you love/have)

In a medium-sized bowl combine ricotta and 2 Tablespoons milk. If consistency is still dry add more milk. Stir until smooth and then add sugar and vanilla. Portion into four glasses or bowls and then top with figs. Drizzle with honey and serve.