per la mia nonna
i probably learned more about cooking from my maternal grandmother than i did in cooking school and by running my cafe combined. i still try to reproduce her roast chicken, escarole salad, stuffed lobsters and linguine con vongole, but mere ingredients can never reproduce love and security.
little did i realize how ethereal those days were. my grandmother came to this country at 15 by herself, her younger sister and brother in her charge. her mother had died, and as far as i could ascertain, she and her siblings were forced into a type of indentured servitude at the hands of her new stepmother who had something like 14 kids. this is the manifest of her ship the conte rosso.
in late summer, the memories of my grandparents are so strong. in their yard they grew (among other things): lettuce, tomatoes, radishes, pnions, beans, squash, figs and grapes as well as a host of herbs. organically we might say, but they were too poor to buy fertilizer and would have been horrified if chemicals besmirched the fruits of their labors.
at dinner time, my grandmother would take a large handle-less basket and go and pick a salad. every time i eat frigid lettuce and hothouse tomatoes i remember my grandmother's salad which, even though she ran the ingredients under cold water, retained the day's warmth within. the insalata was dressed with olive oil and the vinegar my grandfather made along with wine he made annually.
during these sultry days of our heat wave, i have been not cooking just as my grandmother would have.
pasta alla checca
3 or so hours before dinner. mix oo with chopped tomatoes -- take out seeds and that white thing but retain as much juice as possible, chopped garlic, chiffonade of basil, salt and pepper and mozzarella cut in 1/2" cubes. some times i leave the basil out until the last minute, gives it a fresher, more potent taste.
cook pasta. don't drain it. just pull it out of the water. i fish out the mozzarella cubes from the oo. mix oo w pasta to coat. add a little pasta water if it's too dry. put in the mozzarella cubes. hold for a moment till they melt. eat in the garden with your grandaughter. smile with your heart and your eyes when she croons: mi piace nonna! mi piace!
little did i realize how ethereal those days were. my grandmother came to this country at 15 by herself, her younger sister and brother in her charge. her mother had died, and as far as i could ascertain, she and her siblings were forced into a type of indentured servitude at the hands of her new stepmother who had something like 14 kids. this is the manifest of her ship the conte rosso.
in late summer, the memories of my grandparents are so strong. in their yard they grew (among other things): lettuce, tomatoes, radishes, pnions, beans, squash, figs and grapes as well as a host of herbs. organically we might say, but they were too poor to buy fertilizer and would have been horrified if chemicals besmirched the fruits of their labors.
at dinner time, my grandmother would take a large handle-less basket and go and pick a salad. every time i eat frigid lettuce and hothouse tomatoes i remember my grandmother's salad which, even though she ran the ingredients under cold water, retained the day's warmth within. the insalata was dressed with olive oil and the vinegar my grandfather made along with wine he made annually.
during these sultry days of our heat wave, i have been not cooking just as my grandmother would have.
pasta alla checca
- 1lb spaghetti, capellini, spaghettini, linguine fine, linguine (you get the picture)
- some, i have no idea, a lb of tomatoes -- i like organic cherry tomatoes, but anything vine ripened and in season would be good
- olive oil
- basil
- garlic
- salt & pepper
- 1 buffalo mozzarella
3 or so hours before dinner. mix oo with chopped tomatoes -- take out seeds and that white thing but retain as much juice as possible, chopped garlic, chiffonade of basil, salt and pepper and mozzarella cut in 1/2" cubes. some times i leave the basil out until the last minute, gives it a fresher, more potent taste.
cook pasta. don't drain it. just pull it out of the water. i fish out the mozzarella cubes from the oo. mix oo w pasta to coat. add a little pasta water if it's too dry. put in the mozzarella cubes. hold for a moment till they melt. eat in the garden with your grandaughter. smile with your heart and your eyes when she croons: mi piace nonna! mi piace!
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