The Omnivorous Fish - family

How many hungry Sicilian people can fit in my kitchen?

JoeFish — Fri, 28 Sep 2007 22:09:35 -0400

Answer: at least 6. That’s right, kids, 6, in a New York apartment. In CA it won’t be so bad when the gang comes to visit… we won’t all have to sit in the living room looking at each other, but in New York we squeeze in.

We squeezed in for an unbelievably good and unbelievably easy lunch. Salad greens (right from Fairway, even) with cans of Genova brand tuna packed in olive oil crumbled over the top, with all the olive oil from the cans and some vinegar, salt and pepper. Add some provolone and a huge pile of olives (and three bottles of wine) what you end up with is six full, sleepy Italian-Americans, picking at a fruit bowl and taking turns napping on the limited couchspace.

My nephew spotted Shrek in the DVD collection and practically swallowed his tongue in excitement, so we put that on while the Pops and I went for a digestive walk.

Naturally, by the time we got home, everyone was hungry, so we stated cooking dinner. It was a guazzetto, a long-simmered cut of meat- in this case a chuck roast (beef shoulder)- cooked with herbs, spices and tomatoes, which I had started about an hour before anyone got there. My mother was dubious of the presence of a cinnamon stick in the pot, but even she had to taste the sauce… again and again. Of course, we used to get chased out of the kitchen for this when we were kids, but being the ranking Matriarch among both the Radanos and the Cangelosis, I would be loath to try and prevent her.

Besides, she’d kick my ass.

We ate it all in the informal style, meat, pasta and greens (swiss chard inundated with olive oil and garlic), all on the table at once with red, white and pink wines, some of which had- hold on- ice cubes in them. Highlights included the Isonzo del Friuli (tocai friulano) from Ronco del Gelso and the Sbragia zinfandel from 04.

Mama brought cannoli for dessert, but they didn’t exactly survive the trip. Figs and apples did, however, at least the trip from 74th St to 181st St.

We coffeed (and some of us sambucaed) up for night and my father, god bless him, drove 100 miles home. It was good to see them, since I don’t get to see them much, but something tells me I’ll see them more when I’m living three blocks from the beach.

Listening: “It’s Gonna Take a Miracle” Deniece Williams

Coming Together

JoeFish — Wed, 10 Jan 2007 12:34:27 -0500

It’s a wonderful thing to have friends and family around, especially when they’ve come from afar. Having a whole room full of people who love each other is about as good as it gets, right? Well not for me, at least, unless they’re eating. The community is unmade without sharing a meal, preferably a home-cooked meal, assuming there is someone available who can make a decent one.

The Agent’s great uncle passed away this week, a great man by all accounts, but someone I never met. I had the opportunity, once, to meet him, but I passed it by because I thought it better to know such a man by reputation than to see him at his final, weakest moments. This man, however, loved to eat and his favorite meal was always his most recent. The first morning of shivah, I joined the avelim and other family for the traditional Jewish meal of dim sum followed by cannoli and cappucinos. We parted for the afternoon when some of the avelim went home to prepare for shivah and the rest of the visiting family did a little minor sightseeing. I went home to help the Agent with a few things and take a nap. We all were at shivah by around 3 and stayed until 8 or so when the Agent’s sect of the family left en masse, and hungry. The idea of sushi was thrown around, but eventually we decided to cook, and cook I did for a roomful of hungry Jews.

I made poached chicken with leeks and carrots, and served the vegetables with hardboiled eggs and vinaigrette. (We’ve been over this before.) A salad and an acceptable baguette from Whole Problem rounded it out (that’s what happens when you go shopping at 9PM). For dessert we had a reblochon with fruit and after that a few chocolates and anisette. With dinner we drank two outstanding rieslings, both from New York State: the Hermann Wiemer Late Harvest Reserve 2003, straight outta Alsace, and the Dry 2005. Both are outstanding wines, and show the massive depth that the grape achieves in Empire State ground.

It just goes to show, sometimes, no matter how good the food or the wine, the company makes the meal.

How We Eat

JoeFish — Fri, 27 Oct 2006 00:35:12 -0400

When my family comes to visit¹, I like to cook Italian, especially in the Italian style of service, since when we entertain, we generally do things in the French way (which, of course, is really the Russian way). How do they differ? If you don’t know much about food, not much. If you do, they are enormously different. First of all, Italians are AOK with a little cheese before dinner. Yes, Francophiles, get your jaws off the floor, I said cheese before. Charcuterie (or salumi, really) are often served with cheeses, olives and vegetables, although sometimes there is a separate vegetable course. For tomorrow I have salumi and giardiniera, though I will probably pick up some cheese, also, most likely some obnoxiously strong provolone, Pop’s favorite. This is the antipasto, “before the pasta.”

Next comes the Primo Piatto, the first plate. Pasta is more or less obligatory, although some other grain course can be substituted, like risotto or polenta (the Agent and I are big on polenta); alternately soup could make an appearance here. This course can contain almost anything or nothing. Many times, if the main course is a roast or braise, the sauce for the pasta is derived from it. Or, if something special is in season, like peas or truffles, they will make a simple adornment with some butter and/or oil and cheese. Risi e bisi, Roman rice and peas, is a perfect example.

What comes next is what we would call the main course, or the incredibly poetic Italian term, the Second Plate. This is generally some kind of protein, but there is no specific rule. Fish, meat, fowl (Italians love their capon), anything, the occasion being marked more by the elaborateness of the preparation or of the ingredients than anything else, like prime rib for Christmas (although that it is a decidedly American choice). Italian menus tend to be more relaxed in their structure to begin with, since the grand tradition of food is rooted in the home, rather than, as in France, in restaurants and hotels. Interestingly, many times in people’s homes I hear them brag about mimicking a technique found in a French restaurant, but when I’ve worked in Italian restaurants, the chefs bragged about mastering a technique learned from somebody’s mother. Sometimes, my mother has been known to put pasta and roast on the table at the same time since she is so sick of standing around cooking for us, but I think that’s a different sort of tradition. Truth be told, my mother doesn’t really cook like this anymore, certainly not in recent memory. I guess I’m now the standard-bearer for cultural gluttony.

Contorni, or sides (“surroundings”), come along with the secondo. A green salad may be included here, or might come after the secondo is cleared. In my family, very often, there are other contorni, but a salad comes in halfway through, sort of staggered with the secondo. In some families, any or many of these courses are always the same for festive occasions. For example, my friend Anna makes verdure fritti (battered and fried blanched vegetables) at nearly every large meal. I can be accused of always celebrating with a pork roast.

Cheese, fruit and cookies account for the most traditional dessert (and at our house, certainly, fennel, which I believe is a Sicilian tradition- will ask Mom tomorrow), but pastry can make an additional appearance (though certainly not replace them) for especially festive (read: elaborate) meals. Unlike in French table service, the lines between these courses are decidedly blurred, especially at home, where someone may want coffee right after they eat in a desperate- but futile- attempt to sober up before facing off with a cannoli and some anisette and/or amaretto.

Here’s the menu for tomorrow (subject to change):

Salumi, Cheeses and Giardiniera
Fried Squid (Calamari Fritti: that’s with flour, none of that breadcrumb BS)

Sweetmeat Pumpkin Soup (Zuppa di Zucca)

Roasted Wild Striped Sea Bass with potatoes and fennel (Spigola Striata al Forno)
Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Bacon (Cavolini alla Pancetta)
Sauteed Spinach (Spinaci Saltati)
Beet Mash (Pure di Barbietole)

Fruit and Amaretti

Birth-a-day Cake

¹Getting my family to come to New York is a chore. My entire [immediate] family has only been once, and even then my sister-in-law was unable to come, and she was sorely missed, especially since it may be the last time I ever get them all here. They find going to their nearest city (Philadelphia) onerous, so the idea of going an extra 100 miles to the traffic-infested, dirty, non-English-speaking, crime-ridden den of iniquity I live in is especially unpalatable. Anyway, it’s just my parents.