Tomato Kumato

February 24, 2010

Almost-Spring

Filed under: Appetizers, Side Dishes — Tags: , , , — emiglia @ 12:47 pm

Almost-Spring is in the air.

If you’ve lived in cold-weather climates (I’m looking at you Canadians… and you, too, New-Englanders), then you know what I’m talking about: it’s not warm–far from it. In fact, everyone is still bundled up as they hurry down the street, bemoaning the rain and slush… and then you realize: the ice and snow has been replaced by its wetter, warmer cousin! Almost-Spring is in the air! It’s almost enough to make you take off your second pair of long underwear.

Almost.

I don’t remember this season in New York–I first glimpsed it at Andover, when, after months and months of trekking through snow (and black ice, and snow that sort of melts from salting and then refreezes, and more snow, and sand…), the ground was visible again. You could smell mud and grass, and even if there was no floral evidence quite yet, it was coming. I could feel it as I inhaled the smell of mulch, looking forward to days when we would be able to sit on the lawn in the sun and pretend that we weren’t shivering beneath our thin sweatshirts…

This winter has been especially harsh, as far as New York winters go. Personally, I don’t mind snow every week and negative temperatures, but then again, I voluntarily spent three winters in Massachusetts and two in Ontario, so who am I to talk? It’s better than the wind off the Seine in Paris winters, which don’t have the added bonus of snowman-making material in the park or the snow days that permit middle-of-the-afternoon weekday treks to said park, where you can construct avant-garde representations of gangster snowmen in Liliput that would rival similar sculptures by a certain six-year-old and his stuffed tiger.

Still… Almost-Spring in Paris is beautiful. Without the snow and ice, the flowers bloom earlier. The sidewalks aren’t quite as damp; there’s no need to pick your way precariously over three-foot trenches of ice and ditchwater. And maybe the mud in the parks grasps your shoes a bit too harshly, it’s this time of year (OK… all times of year) that really get me thinking about Paris.

So, in honor of Almost-Spring, I offer you an Almost-Spring recipe. Pencil-thin asparagus will soon be plentiful–in Paris, they favor the fat white ones, but I was always partial to these. Last year, I found some at my local market and, on a whim, wrapped them in prosciutto. Since then, this has become a standby vegetable side dish when I want a weekday to feel a little special.

Prosciutto-Wrapped Asparagus

1 lb. asparagus, washed and dried, ends trimmed
about 8 slices prosciutto
1 tsp. extra virgin olive oil
freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Coat a baking dish with the olive oil.

Split the slices of prosciutto in half lengthwise, so you get two long, thin strips. Carefully wrap each asparagus spear in prosciutto, and lay them in the baking dish with the seam-side down.

Roast 15-20 minutes, until the prosciutto is crisp and the ends of the asparagus have withered and colored a bit. Remove from the oven and sprinkle with freshly ground black pepper. Serve immediately.


February 16, 2010

Lent

Filed under: Pasta, Vegetarian Main Dishes — Tags: , , , , — emiglia @ 11:55 pm

Today is Mardi Gras, also known as Shrove Tuesday or Pancake Day to some–the last day before the period of Lent.

I know that most of you are probably at least vaguely familiar with Lent–it’s that day that we Catholics make ourselves suffer and give up something like chocolate or cigarettes or drinking or television… right?

Well… sort of. Lent is a period of introspection, of preparing ourselves for Easter, which is really the most important holiday of the Catholic calendar, regardless of what the Hallmark industry and Santa Claus may want us to believe. For forty days before Easter, which represents the rebirth of Jesus–and essentially everything that makes Christians Christian–we get ourselves ready, and yes, this often does involve giving up something that we may find difficult to relinquish.

I’m not trying to get all preachy on you–God knows that I of all people am not the person to be preaching Catholic doctrine to anyone. I’m just trying to set the record straight: we don’t fast because we want to suffer; we fast because it makes us think. The whole idea behind giving up something that you want is that each time you reach for it–a bar of chocolate, a cigarette or a beer–you stop yourself, and then you remember why you’re stopping.

It’s because of this that my favorite priest–and yes, I have I favorite priest: the one who led my student youth group at boarding school–changed the rules somewhat. Father Francisco was a Franciscan monk, the most Catholic of all the Catholic people I’ve ever met. He walked the campus in billowing black robes and prayed when he joined us for breakfast like it was the most natural thing. His suggestion for Lent was not to give something up, but to take on a new challenge: he said that it was important not only to be introspective during Lent, but to use the period to give back to others as well.

I may pick and choose the parts of Catholic doctrine that I subscribe to, but I think that most Catholics–even lapsed Catholics–make some sort of gesture during Lent. It’s like an internal clock that gets us every year, even if we haven’t been to mass since Christmas, even if we haven’t really even taken a second to think about whether or not we believe, most of the C and E Catholics I know will go to church at some point tomorrow and come out with a black smudge on their forehead and something in mind that they’ve decided to live without.

I’ve decided to do a myriad of things, most of which I will not share here, for the sole reason that I’ve always liked the story in the Bible that tells you to pray in quiet, to hide the fact that you’re fasting when you do, because it’s a personal thing that you should do for your own fulfillment. I will share, mostly because it has some sort of effect on all of you, the fact that I will be giving up all meat in this Lenten season (as with most Catholics, I do not take this to include fish), and so on the eve of Ash Wednesday, I offer you this recipe, which I’ve been making for years, ever since I found it on Ree’s website.

Asian Noodle Salad (adapted from The Pioneer Woman)
1 package whole wheat spaghetti, cooked, rinsed and cooled
1/2 head sliced Napa cabbage
1/2 head sliced Purple cabbage
1 bag bean sprouts
2 carrots, sliced into rounds
1 bunch cilantro, chopped
3 scallions, sliced
1 lime, juiced
8 Tbsp. olive oil
8 Tbsp. soy sauce
2 Tbsp. sesame oil
1/3 cup brown sugar
3 Tbsp. fresh ginger, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
2 jalapenos, chopped

Mix pasta and vegetables together. Whisk dressing together and pour over salad. Toss to combine.

February 3, 2010

I’m a Writer

Filed under: Cake Day, Cakes — Tags: , — emiglia @ 3:38 pm

The conversation is inevitable: after a few minutes of talking to a new group of people, of asking “What can I get you to drink?” and “So, where are you from?” comes the question I so loved a year ago, but that now I dread.

“What do you do?”

I take a sip from my glass. I pause. I try to decide if I should just make a joke and say I’m “funemployed” and let that be the end of it. But I suck it up. “I’m a writer,” I answer.

“Oh! Wow!” They say appreciatively, nodding. I hold my breath. The worst is still to come.

“What do you write?”

And that’s where I stop being able to answer. What do I write? Well… it all depends…

Every day, I blog. I write about things that people should be buying and places that people should visit. Never mind that I don’t buy most of the stuff I tell people to buy and I haven’t been to a great majority of the places that I research… that’s what I do, every day. And I do it in French.

I write about the places I’ve lived, like Paris, the one that stole my heart, and San Francisco the one that got away, for they are my inspiration, my muse. I write about my home of New York-Toronto-Cannes-San Sebastian-Paziols-Westhampton. Paris. sigh.

I write restaurant reviews. Somehow I got famous for this one in San Sebastian, where people, I think, had lofty visions of me being a female Calvin Trillin. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that I generally get paid less per review than it costs me to go to a place, which means that 99% of the time, I only review places I was planning on going anyway: dive bars and cafés.

I do translations. I write other people’s resumes, cover letters and letters to the French bank (quelle horreur). I write letters to people I like and Facebook messages when I don’t have time, energy, stamps or stationery. I write recipes, as you all know by now. I write telephone messages. I write movie reviews. I write query letters… lots and lots and lots of query letters. I write some good stuff, but I also write a lot of bullshit. I’m OK with that, I think.

But when my fingers are aching for a pen and I answer distractedly to people’s direct questions. (”Em, you want pizza or Chinese for dinner?” “Uh… um… just a sec. One sec. One sec. Wait. What was the question?”) When I get an idea in my head that won’t shake free, when I remember why I chose this as a job: sitting at my desk with an endless cup of coffee that I microwave every few hours when I forget about it, trying to ignore Twitter so that I can actually get down to work… That’s when I write novels. Above all else, I’m a novelist; my heart lies in other people’s stories, in characters so real that I find myself falling in love with the good ones and promising them happiness and crying when I finally break their hearts on page 256.

“What do you write?” they ask. I want to answer… but I usually just shrug.

“You know. Stuff.”

Gingerbread (Culinary Concoctions by Peabody)

Peabody serves this with cream cheese frosting, which I’m sure is a dream. I chose to top mine with a Speculoos spread that isn’t available in the States, but if you ever find yourself in France, pick up a jar… it’s divine.

1 1/4 cups flour
1 tablespoon ground Ginger
1 teaspoon ground Cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup  (1 1/2 sticks)  butter, softened
3/4 cups sugar, divided
1 egg
1/3 cup molasses

Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter a brownie pan and set aside.

In a small bow, mix flour, ginger, cinnamon, baking soda and salt.

In a separate bowl, beat butter and sugar in large bowl with a whisk until light and fluffy. Beat in egg until well blended.  Gradually beat in flour mixture until well mixed. Stir in molasses. Spread evenly in prepared pan.

Bake 30 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool in pan 15 minutes, then remove from pan and finish cooling on a wire rack. Spread speculoos spread over the bars. Cut into bars.

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