Monster Zucca

Being a vegetarian my entire life- as well as a lover of food and a passionate cook- I’ve learned, over time, to be inventive in the kitchen. Furthermore- while living in Italy attempting to be a “healthy eater,” as well as a non-meat eater- it becomes somewhat wearisome eating the same “verdure alla griglia” (grilled vegetables) and green salads. I’ve always done my best to smile and chew- when eating at some of the best fish or meat restaurants in the world- raving about the eggplant this and the fennel that and the outrageous taste of the tomatoes and the freshness of the lettuce. And of course, there are the numerous evenings when I “fall off the wagon” and eat several baskets of bread, plates of creamy cheeses and heaping platters of carbohydrate-filled pasta.

In my kitchen, though- it's a different story.

Having lived all over the world- I have taken parts of each cuisine- different dishes and cooking methods- and integrated an assortment of items into my repertoire. I love to cook- I love to invent- and I love to experiment. That being said, I am lucky enough to be in Italy with some of the freshest produce in the world.

Yesterday, a friend of Antonio’s family lugged this huge green stripey vegetable thing into my kitchen. After he noticed my arched eyebrows and confusion, he says to me: “é una zucca- te l’ho portato dal mio giardino giú.” Translation: “it's a pumpkin. I brought it to you from my garden in Naples.” Turns out, upon dissection, it was indeed a pumpkin. So this fat, long, green thing- weighing half of what I do- was at last plopped down on my kitchen counter with a wink and a few words that can be translated into: “get to work.”

With my massive zucca, I invented about six dishes. I could have done more- after avid Internet research- but I am, as of now, limited in fancy kitchen equipment and elaborate ingredients. Basically, if it’s not grown, made and packaged in Italy- it’s nearly impossible to find. Of these six dishes, two were pretty good, one was a disaster, and three were absolutely delightful. So delightful, in fact, that I thought I would share- should anyone else come face to face with a monster pumpkin.

Below are pics and recipes.

1.     Pumpkin Parmigiana

Ingredients:

Fresh Pumpkin- thinly sliced

Olive oil

Smoked provolone cheese

Parmesan cheese

Salt

Pepper

Pepperoncino (hot pepper flakes)

Garlic

 

To prepare the pumpkin: Take about 10 thin whole slices, drizzle extra virgin olive oil and salt- turn the oven to 225 f and cook until slightly browned.

Take another slice of the pumpkin and grate about 2 ½  cups- in a pan- saute two chopped cloves of garlic with pepperoncino, until garlic is soft and throw in the grated pumpkin, stirring until fully cooked and a bit brown- add salt to taste (also, if you like spicy- add more pepperoncino). Once the cooked shredded pumpkin has cooled, add about ½ cup grated parmesan and stir until mixture is even.

Take a medium sized casserole dish and begin layering- first, cover the entire bottom surface with the pumpkin slices (they should have enough oil on them to not have to grease the pan. Next- add a layer of the smoked provolone (this can be substituted by any soft cheese- but I think the smoky flavor goes well with the sweetness of the pumpkin. Add another layer of baked pumpkin and after, another layer of cheese. On top of the cheese, spread the shredded pumpkin/parmesan mixture as another layer in the dish. Follow that with the final layer of baked pumpkin slices Finally, sprinkle the remaining grated parmesan cheese over the entire surface of the top layer and bake. I left it in the oven for a good 40 minutes- but it will be ready when the top layer is sizzling and brown. Let cool.

Unfortunately, we had guests for dinner that night and I totally forgot to take a photo before we dug into the dish. However, I did manage to salvage one slice. Photo below.

 

2.     Pumpkin carrot soup

Ingredients:

Fresh Pumkin

Whole Large Carrots

Vegetable Bouillon Cubes (1/ two cups of water)

Onion

Garlic

Olive Oil

Pepperoncino

Pepper

Salt

Plain Greek Yogurt

Honey

Boil about 3 cups of water with 1.5 bouillon cubes. Throw in two halved small onions (I used red, but any onion will suffice- depending on your tastes) and two whole garlic cloves.

While the water and ingredients are boiling- slice the pumpkin into ½ inch slices irrespective of size and drizzle with olive oil and salt and let bake until soft enough to cut into easily. (I used about 1 lb of pumkin)

Once the pumpkin slices are well cooked, throw them into the boiling water, along with a few cleaned and peeled carrots (I used ½ lb carrots). Add a bit of pepperoncino and a bit of olive oil.

Let boil until carrots are soft- about another 10 minutes.

Blend the entire soup mixture. Add about 1 cup greek yogurt, 1 tbsp honey and salt and pepper to taste. Blend again. Serve.  (I sprinkled a bit of parsley on top- but parmesan cheese, thyme, cream or yogurt can all work as garnish).

 

3.     Really Easy Pumpkin Zucchini fritters

Ingredients:

Pumpkin

Zucchini

1 egg

Breadcrumbs (I prefer whole wheat, but white work as well)

Salt

Pepper

Olive Oil

Grate about 5 cups of fresh pumpkin and 2 cups of zucchini. Beat the egg while adding salt and pepper to taste. Mix together the egg and grated vegetables. Add breadcrumbs into the mixture until it becomes thick enough to mold into small patties.

Heat about 1 inch of olive oil in a frying pan. Place the patties into the oil and fry until golden brown on one side- flip and repeat.

I would place the patties on paper towels to drain some of the oil out before you serve. They are also great with a bit of greek yogurt on the side as dipping sauce- any variation works. 

(p.s. excuse the photo quality- I used my blackberry)

This is the zucca- and a few slices:

These are the slices baking in the oven. I know they look like pancakes. They're not.
This is a slice of the parmigianna. It was better than it looks:

Pumpkin Zucchini Fritters:
Pumpkin carrot soup:

Spaghetti Number 9

I could talk about Italy forever- the indignities, the laughable moments- and the things that leave me incredulous- asking, yet again, is this really my life?

I was talking to someone about television in my teens. Mid-way through the conversation, she turned to me and asked if I was a fan of “nove-zero-due-uno-zero.” Initially, I had NO idea what she was talking about. Really. I didn't. I told her, without a doubt, that “we didn't have that show in America.” And she said it was filmed in America- California to be exact; “Don't you remember? ‘Bevedlee Heels nove-zero-due-uno-zero!’” Ha!

Hearing “90210” in another language not only transformed my association with the show, but it slaughtered everything that those simple numbers ever meant to me. It was like seeing my formative years through the Italian language. Or something like that.

As far as the rest of the entertainment industry goes- I’m still astounded by the vast differences between American and Italian entertainment.

I have a love-hate relationship with Italian Cinema. There is no American Federico Fellini- not even close. And for his existence- I am grateful. But, seriously, what’s with all the voice-overs? I cannot bear to watch one more American movie dubbed in Italian. Imagine watching The Godfather where Marlon Brando’s voice is not Marlon Brando’s voice. Or Scent of a Woman, where Al Pacino’s “hoohaw” is more of a “ooohhhahhhh.” Not to mention the fact that there seems to be only a small cluster of big-time “voice-over” actors. Consequently, let’s say for example that one day- you’re watching a Brad Pitt tear-jerker, the next day- the same voice is Batman’s Joker. Then, that evening- you go to watch Sex and the City and Big has the same voice as Batman/Brad Pitt and later, Wall-E. But then- there are the Fellini’s and Benigni’s of the world- and I admit that I can’t totally discard Italians of murderers of the cinematic art.

Of course, beyond the movies, there are plenty of minor differences I unearth on an hourly basis. Lately, I’m finding that certain elements or incidents that used to bother me are transforming into the beloved details of my daily life. Now, having integrated myself into this entirely backwards and loveable nation- I’m starting to appreciate the “stupidagini.” They make me smile- and laugh- not only at the folly, but at the fact that I’m totally starting to buy into it- all of it.

I used to hold the Italian way of doing business in contempt. As an American- no less an American with an MBA, fully aware of ethical methods and “good business practices,” I used to wonder how anyone ever did business in Italy. Now, although I don't totally accept it- I’m beginning to welcome it.

In Italy, everything is negotiable. In Italian business, nothing is concrete. You can only believe a small part of what anyone says- even the most respectable of individuals lie through their teeth. Every number, detail and word is inflated. Whatever is being offered, and whoever is offering it- is exaggerated. The beauty in it is that- once the frustration subsides; one realizes that in Italy, you can be whoever you want to be. “Basta che lo dici”- meaning “its enough just to say it.” Because everyone believes you. You even begin to believe your own fabrications. For the most part.

I know this seems rather extreme but I cannot stress how true it is. I mean, if you go to have a drink at a hotel and a man walks up to you and begins flirting, before long, he will undoubtedly tell you that he owns the hotel. Case in point. When I tell someone that I am from Miami, there’s a great chance that before long- they will present me a laundry list of the best hotels in South Beach- that they apparently own. “Oh this belt? It’s Versace. I’m Versace’s son. Doesn't matter that he was gay. Nice to meet you. And by the way, Donatella’s waiting for me on my yacht with a suitcase full of millions for my summer vacation. Want to come back to my place for a drink?”

And so on and so forth…

Its fun though. In the past, I got frustrated. It made me angry. I was both distrustful and cynical of everyone I met- simply knowing that if they weren’t already lying to me, they would be soon. Now however- I play into it. It’s like a game. Italy is a world where whoever you want to be- you can be. And no one asks any questions.

Another interesting tidbit about Italians and the importance of food in Italy:

Did you know that Barilla pasta is identified not only by type, but by number?

I didn't.

And I got in trouble for getting a number 3 spaghetti as opposed to a number 9.

Apparently, each number denotes the thickness of that particular pasta.

So not only must I remember the type of pasta I have been sent out to buy. i.e.: spaghetti, fussili, linguine, fettuccine, bucatini, papparadelle, tagliatelle, penne, pennette, maltagliati, maccheroni, paccheri, rigatoni, cavatelli, orecchiette (my personal favorite), trofie, strozzapreti, etc… the list is endless, but I now know that I must be aware of the exact thickness of whichever pasta goes best with the sauce I happen to be making.

Word to the wise; never buy spaghetti for an Italian without first consulting a specialist.

Despite conflicts over the width of pasta and a daily dialogue filled with embroidered fabrications, for the first time in a very long time- I can admit, and truly mean, that I am happy. Like…really happy.

I’m actually surprised about how contented I am. Happy to the point that I’m waiting for some tragedy to jump out from behind me and piss all over everything. But in the meantime- before it all comes crashing down, I’m going to bask in my happiness…because as I have learned in my 29 years, it’s not that easy to find.

My life in Rome hasn't changed much, so I cannot attribute this sudden elation to anything specific. Summer has quickly descended upon us with suffocating heat and hordes of tourists- but I can’t help but smile as I walk down the street- dripping with sweat and veering off the road in order to avoid vacationers staring down at their maps- as opposed to who they may be walking straight into. (me).

I spent a few days in Milan. The short vacation kicked off with an evening of Faust at the Scala opera house. I then spent the fourth of July at lake Como- attending a gala dinner at Villa d’Este, followed with a spectacular display of fireworks over the lake- accompanied by an orchestra playing the American national anthem. And as I heard my anthem and my chest filled with pride, I thought to myself, “It’s ok if I never make it back stateside.”

Career-wise, things are finally starting to come together. I’m working on a number of projects- trying to get them off the ground. I’d rather keep my cards closer to my chest right now- superstitiously speaking. But what I can say is that if I am able to fully execute any of these ventures, I’ll be spending my time doing exactly what I've always wanted to do- embarking on a new(ish) career combining writing, business, travel, PR and marketing. So- fingers crossed. More on that later…

However, with regards to all the above- I feel lucky. Lucky to have people in my life to give me the opportunities to do what I have always wanted to do. And lucky to have done everything I have done up until now- in order to arrive at this point.

And if what they say is true, that life is a journey- my journey hasn't been half bad, and the next part is shaping up to be quite a ride. How could I not wake up with a smile on my face? Not to mention the fact that as I roll out of bed for a cup of coffee- all I have to do is look out the window and see views that really, I think one would be lucky to witness in a lifetime. Beyond that, I’m surrounded by amazing people who make everyday an adventure.

I thought, at this point, that I would be bored. I’m not travelling the way I used to- not right now at least. And although I eat at the best restaurants, drink the best wines and am living a life in Italy the best way possible- my social life is considerably calmer than it has been in the past. But as the Italians say- “non manca niente”- nothing’s missing. At least, nothing I’ve noticed yet.

NY Highlights

I came to New York with a list of people to see, things to eat, and places to go. Of course, my list has been twisted and altered until the original plans have become pretty much unrecognizeable.

Nevertheless, below are the highlights thus far;

-Cheese tasting at Murray's
-"Sunday Mass Dance Class" at Equinox. I still can't feel my legs.
-Drinks on the Delancey rooftop
-Brunch at Extra Virgin (although I reluctantly stayed away from the fries with gorgonzola fondue- which is an alltime favorite)
-Rock Band and Red Bull pre-gaming at the apartment
-Le Royale birthday party
-Southhampton shenanigans
-Ago (De Niro's new place) in Tribeca and the Burrata appetizer
-Macrobiotic lunch in midtown at Souen
-Pizza, Pizza, Pizza
-Dinner at PO on Cornelia street
-Being dragged to VIP's with the boys (I dont know if I should have admitted to that)
-Cipriani Downtown
-Pinkberry Green Tea Yogurt with Blackberries
-Continuing my three- year running Backgammon tournament with Pete (currently 30-22 moi!)
-Steam room with Dana
-Brooklyn excursion with good friends, medditerranean food, and a local bar with cheap beer
-Walking (Thoreau-style)
-Central Park strolls
-Food shopping at Gourmet Garage
-Yelling at cab drivers even though it's obvious I'm the one who shouldn't be in the middle of the road
-Late-night martinis and fajitas at a random bar in the West Village
-Spring Lounge
-Lunch at Morandi
-Dinner at Frank's, compliments of Frank's mom, on the Upper East Side
-Bruscetta and Greco Di Tufo at Ino (W. Village) (AND THE TRUFFLE EGG TOAST!)
-Lower East Side bars and their owners with dogs
-Sitting outside Wine Bar for dinner in the East Village (and their truffle pizza)
-The Spotted Pig, their purple martini's (apparently because their olives are purple), and the gnoti with sage butter
-The British bartenders at Diablo Royale
-Corner Bistro and it's overrated (so I hear) burgers
-Joe's pizza on Bleeker (not so much the actual pizza but waiting in line, finally getting in, and having a huge pie placed on your table after a late night out)
-3:00 a.m. Burlesque shows at "The Box"
-Sundays at Felix

And I wonder why I gain 5 lbs everytime I get to the City...
One week to go and many more things to do (and eat).

Slim 4 Life

Last night I dreamt of fruits and vegetables: Floating apples, sparring asparagus spears, raspberry races, dancing bananas, and conversing carrots. Before I even opened my eyes this morning, I thought to myself, “I need to buy a juicer.” I’ve never even considered owning a juicer before- blenders were as far as I’d go.

This newfound produce fascination is a result of a recent “diet” book my friend, Jo gave me. We were trading recipes over lunch one day and she mentioned the great smoothie recipes this book has in the back. I thought I would give it a shot. Turns out- it’s an entire novel that attempts to alter the way you think about everything you put in your body; it preaches a way of life. I read all 308 pages of Jason Vale (The self proclaimed Juice Master)’s book, “Slim 4 Life: Freedom from the food trap” in two sittings. Needless to say, I was intrigued.

Granted, I will never look as milk as “cow glue.”

Vale mentions a few times that falling asleep after a big meal means that “the body does not have enough energy to keep you alive and awake at the same time.” Frankly, I don’t think we would die if we stayed awake, but it is an interesting thought.

I’m not writing this as an attempt at a long- winded book review, as I know nothing about diet books. Nor would I write this much about one. However, being that I am now apparently an advocate of gaining “freedom from the food trap,” I wanted to share a few things that struck me as interesting. I keep writing emails about this stuff so I figured I may as well post it and call it a day.

To paraphrase; cakes/chips bad, fruit/vegetables good. Right. We knew that already.

What else? Well…
Organic food isn’t necessarily healthy; it was merely produced without pesticides.
Caffeine ages you.
There is evidence that suggests that diet drinks actually cause weight gain- they increase hunger- so basically, they cause cancer AND make you fat. Not good.
Nuts lose their nutrition when they are roasted.
Popcorn is bad for you; corn is as starchy as potatoes.
100,000 lives a year could be saved if food manufacturers cut the amount of salt they use.
Brown bread is often white bread that has been dyed with caramel- check the back of packages. Combining different food groups in varying proportions aids digestion (but I wouldn’t know where to start with this one.)
Fresh veggies are much healthier before they are cooked.
A can of coke contains seven teaspoons of sugar while ketchup is 27% sugar.
Two of the chemicals used to de-caffeinate coffee are turpentine and formaldehyde!

Good things to do;
Drink a glass of water first thing in the morning.
Eat natural foods.
Cook with olive oil and flaxseed oil instead of butter and other oils.
Exercise.
Never ever eat refined sugar again.
Don’t eat meat either.
Or milk products.
Buy a juicer.
Wear sunscreen (joking…sort of).

I think that about sums it up.

British Delicacies

Nostalgia is creeping in as my time in England comes to an end. I’m looking at everyday occurrences in new lights- knowing that this part of my life, yet another unforgettable segment, will soon be over. There are so many minute differences between American culture and English culture that a regular tourist would never be exposed to. Most of all- cuisine.

I’ve always considered cuisine to be one of the most interesting differences to note between cultures. A population is generally tied to their food and in some cases, is defined by it. What do we think when we hear “Italy”? Pasta, of course. France? Cheese and Baguettes. India? Naan and spicy colorful unidentifiables. Australia? Shrimp on the Barbie! America? McDonalds…unfortunately.
England, as I have come to see it, is a fish and chips, meat and potatoes, beer culture. That being said, living with two British men has enlightened me to a status of British culinary expertise. The eating habits of these individuals never cease to amaze me. Almost every day, someone comes up with a new concoction or recipe that causes me to look twice. In fact, I spend a large portion of my meals discussing the merits of two of my favorites: noodle sandwiches and beans on toast.

Pasta sandwiches: eaten on a regular basis around the flat at varying mealtimes. Originally, I thought “chip baps” (fries stuck in between a buttered bun) were bad, until I witnessed the roommate shoving ramen noodles between two pieces of bread and actually enjoying it. After speaking to a few more individuals about this incident, I have been educated about the merits of this apparently normal and accepted practice. Evidently, pasta sandwiches are “lovely” and I should really “crack on and try one sometime.” A carbohydrate sandwich…thanks, but no thanks.

Beans on toast: a great mystery to me and a dietary staple to Brits- at least the Brits that I know. Without fail, once a day, I witness someone eating beans on toast: two pieces of toasted white bread and half a can of baked beans- and if we are being particular here, the beans must generally come from a turquoise Heinz can available in all supermarkets across the U.K.. The entire meal costs far less than a pound and is apparently very filling covering two of the basic food groups- protein and grain. I’ve also seen fancy versions of beans on toast with accompaniments of foods ranging from scrambled eggs to cheese- therefore making beans on toast quite a versatile dish as well. I have indeed sampled this delicacy and although I wasn’t blown away, I didn't gag.

The oddities are endless when it comes to the diets of British citizens. Below is a list of the top ten discoveries I've made. Most I refuse to try but others I have come to love;

1. Yorkshire Pudding: Made from flour, eggs and milk. It’s a batter baked in the oven and usually moistened with gravy. Rarely used as a desert and more frequently eaten as a starter or with meat at a Sunday roast.

2. Toad In The Hole: Similar to Yorkshire Pudding but with sausages (toads) placed in the batter before cooking. One thing I learned the hard way- it is imperative to not open the oven while cooking or the batter will fall and you will end up with dead toads on a board.

3. Fish and Chips: Deep fried fish (usually cod or haddock) in a flour or beer batter with thick-cut French fries drenched in malt vinegar. Fish and Chips are typically bought at a chip shop (or “Chippie”) and either eaten on the premises or taken home. Rarely are Fish and Chips cooked in a residential kitchen.

4. Ploughman’s Lunch: A plate consisting of a piece of cheese (usually a variation of cheddar), a bit of pickled onion, and a chunk of bread, and a bit of lettuce. Ploughman’s sandwiches are also available pre-packaged at all gas stations and food stops around England.

5. Shepherds’ Pie: A thick and buttery pie crust filled with minced lamb and vegetables in gravy topped with mashed potato.

6. Bubble and Squeak: The name is a description of the action and sound made while cooking this meal. The chief ingredients are potato and cabbage, but any other vegetables can be added- usually whatever is left over from yesterday’s dinner. The ingredients are thrown into an incredibly greasy pan and fried together with mashed potatoes until the concoction is completely matted and brown.

7. Bangers and Mash: Mashed potatoes and sausages. Served for breakfast.

8. Black Pudding: This is by far the most disturbing of all the dishes I have encountered. Black pudding is blood pudding. It looks like black sausage and is made from dried pigs blood and fat.

9. Mushy Peas: Literally, mushy peas. Available across England in chip shops and most kebab shops as well. Mushy peas can serve as a side to chips (French fries) or Faggots (meatballs, believe it or not), and have even been known to operate as a base for fried eggs. I have heard whisperings about mushy pea fritters and I'd be more than willing to sample those as well.

10. Of course, last but not least, the illustrious- BEANS ON TOAST!

Green Recipes

Getting my boyfriend to eat green things has become one of my recent top priorities. Not particularly for his health, but because the more green things he eats, the less pizza he will consume, and that means less cheesy aromatic yummy goodness will be waved around in front of my face as I try to get all my vitamins in under 2000 calories. This is a daily struggle- And for the same reason, I made him give up chocolate for Lent.

Being an athlete, my boyfriend has the freedom to eat pretty much whatever he wants. He works out, on average, five hours a day- so an extra slice at the Pizza Hut All-You-Can-Eat Buffet (a favorite post-match day haunt here in Gloucestershire) won’t really make too much of a difference. For me however, an extra piece of pizza means a day of remorse and one less scoop of ice cream after dinner. There is a bigger problem that looms though; for me, there never is just “one” extra slice- more like four extra slices AFTER the six original slices…and I don’t even bother counting the breadsticks.

I am incapable of maintaning any form of self control when it comes to food, so my tactics of late have been to keep only healthy food around me- and this means that the individuals lucky enough to live and dine with me are limited as well. I can’t say that we have indulged in the most decadent of feasts lately, but I have been rather innovative when it comes to cooking and I now boast a decent sized menu of tasty green things.

Below are a few of the recent recipes that have been met with acceptance and maybe even an occasional “wow babe, this is actually kind of good.”
Or, on the other hand, as Michael said about the soup; “this is quite an efficient way to eat broccoli!”
I do what I can.

Broccoli Soup;

Ingredients:

1 tbsp olive oil
1 whole garlic clove, chopped or mashed
250-350ml vegetable stock
300-400g broccoli florets (doesn’t have to be exact- I normally use about three big heads)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Crème fresh or milk (depending on the richness you desire)

Directions:
Heat olive oil in a saucepan and sauté the garlic for 1-2 minutes. Pour the chicken or vegetable stock into the pan and add the broccoli florets. Bring to the boil and reduce the heat and simmer for 10-15 minutes, until the broccoli is tender. Season with tons of pepper and a bit of salt to taste, then transfer to a liquidizer/blender. Blend until smooth adding milk, cream or water if needed. Ladle the soup into serving bowls and drizzle with cream. I also generally grill a bit of granary bread sprinkled with olive oil to serve on the side.

Baked Creamed Spinach;

Ingredients:
2/3 lbs fresh spinach
I clove of garlic- chopped
1.5 cups warm milk
1 cup grated cheddar or gruyere cheese (or a mixture of the two)
Tbsp of olive oil
2 tbsp butter (I substituted ½ of this with olive oil and it was just as good)
2 tbsp flour
Pinch of salt and ground pepper
Pinch of nutmeg (I’ve also substituted different spices, depending on the flavour you are going for)

Directions:
Trim and wash the spinach. Saute the garlic in olive oil. Gradually throw in the spinach until it all fits, sauté until wilted. Drain the excess water from the spinach. In another pot, melt the butter (with the olive oil) and add the flour. Whisk and cook for about 3 minutes. Add the milk and bring to a boil. Mix in salt, pepper and nutmeg to taste. Cook for about 5 minutes and then combine the sauce with the spinach and ½ cup of cheese. Spoon into a baking dish and top with the rest of the cheese. Bake at about 375C until the top is browned and crusty.

Asparagus Risotto;

Ingredients:
2-3 lbs of asparagus
1 finely chopped shallot
3.5 oz of rice (either Arborio, Vialone or Carnaroli... oh, the things one learns living in Italy...)
2 oz butter
1-1.5 cups dry white wine
Freshly grated parmesan (I use about a cup but I think 4 tbsp is normal)

Directions:
Chop and throw away the ends of the asparagus while chopping the rest putting the tips to the side. Blanch the asparagus tips in boiling water and set aside. Cook the stalks in the same water until they are soft and then puree both the stalks and the cooking water in a blender. At this point, you should have a thick stock and it should be transferred back to the pot. Add the wine- slowly simmer over low heat. In another pan, melt the butter and sauté the shallot until soft. Add the rice to the pan and once it has absorbed the butter, slowly add a ladle of the asparagus/wine stock. Stir until the stock is absorbed then add the asparagus tips and another ladle of stock. Slowly ladle in the rest of the stock (DO NOT DROWN THE RICE!) until the rice is al dente. Mix in most of the parmesan. Serve onto plates, sprinkle the rest of the parm and enjoy!

How I Cook

Today’s recipe: Truffle and Lemon Brussels Sprouts

But first, a preamble;

How I cook is comparable to how I live:
With reckless abandon-
No exact recipes, few measurements, no timers, no limits. (This is all quite possibly why I couldn’t bake a cake for my life. And on the other hand- why I enjoy living oh-so much.)

As you will soon find out, there is always plenty of room for improvisation in my recipes. If you are the type of cook who panics at a lack of exact instructions, I beg you- read no further or you may risk an anxiety attack. With that said, I want to make it abundantly clear that I love to eat and I love good food. Therefore, everything and anything that I make or recommend is (in my humble opinion) deliciously mouth-watering and simply delightful. I care more about taste than presentation- so please don’t expect restaurant style garnishes or brightly colored sauces drizzled around the plate. On the other hand, feel free to add whatever you want on your own time...

Ingredients:
-1.5-2.5 lbs shredded (thinly sliced) brussels sprouts
-About one tablespoon of white or black truffle oil
-One fresh lemon
-Salt and Pepper
-Extra Virgin Olive Oil

Directions:
In a skillet, heat the olive oil. Add the brussels sprouts, season with salt and pepper and heat and stir until very tender. Add more oil if needed. Remove from heat, squeeze half the lemon and pour the truffle oil onto the sprouts. Stir, transfer to a bowl, serve and enjoy!!

Vegetarianism

Vegetarianism- Now, here’s an issue I have a lot to say about…

Wikipedia defines Vegetarianism as: The practice of a diet that excludes all animal flesh, including poultry, game, fish, shellfish or crustacea, and slaughter by-products. The reasons for choosing vegetarianism may be related to morality, religion, culture, ethics, aesthetics, environment, society, economy, politics, taste, or health.

I am a vegetarian and I can honestly say that it is for none of the aforementioned reasons. Read on for more information.

I have found that the idea of vegetarianism carries with it a significant amount of negative connotations. I can just picture it now; if you will, imagine someone describing an acquaintance as “a vegetarian”- the portrayal is most definitely accompanied by a curled upper lip. Rarely have I been at a dinner party where at least one person at the table does not refer to vegetarians as “tree huggers,” “health freaks” or even “hippies.” None of these names particularly offend me but I can attest to the fact that they are far from true in my case. Enthusiastic meat-eaters/carnivores lose a degree of esteem for vegetarians believing that they gain no enjoyment from their food- or even go so far as to assume that they don’t appreciate the wonderful sense of taste we humans have the capacity to appreciate. I am more than aware that in some of the best restaurants in the world, I am a persona non grata. I have been told that I don’t live life to the fullest because I don’t eat meat. Again, I beg to differ.

My vegetarianism;

In short, I don’t eat anything with eyes or parents. And no, there are no animals with only ONE parent- fertilization doesn’t just happen on its own. And yes, I eat potatoes- don’t ask me stupid questions.

The unabridged version of the story is as follows; I was a little over three years old and my grandparents took me to a farm. One thing I remember particularly well is standing on one side of a chain link fence while a baby lamb eyed me from the other side with his little wet nose poking through. I am told that I proceeded to kiss him until I was scolded, while my face was scrubbed clean with none other than someone else's saliva. Later that evening, back at home, my mom served lamb chops for dinner. Being the clever little lass that I was, I immediately put two and two together and realized that the “lamb” chops had the same name as the “lambs” on the farm. Someone (most likely my mother) cleverly described to me the inner-workings of the food-chain and how humans are meant to eat meat. At hearing this news, I ran to my room in tears and refused to eat the rest of my dinner. For the next week or so, my parents served me everything from fish sticks and chicken filets to veal burgers. Each night I would wait for an opportunity to put the offending meat under my shirt in order to bring it to my room and hide it under the large cushion of a wicker chair. This ploy worked until my housekeeper discovered the source of the smell that had been wafting into the hallway and “outed” me to my family. The moldy meat incident resulted in a round of doctors’ visits including psychiatrists, therapists, pediatricians, and a few nutritionists. What can I say? My parents thought it abnormal for a three year old to give up meat on her own accord. Furthermore, they were worried that I wouldn’t develop correctly due to malnutrition. I was fine. Still am. Ultimately, my choice to deny myself anything that clucked, mooed or baah’d was accepted by my loved ones (save for the time my grandma served me a veal parmesan sub telling me it was eggplant.) I did continue to eat poultry for a few more months until I bit into a Chicken Tender from Burger King and hit an enormous indigo vain. That was the end of that and it officially solidified my status as a life-long vegetarian.

My family has always been considerate of me (other than when they served veal at my bat-mitzvah), but they never went out of their ways to cater to my culinary needs. This, I appreciate. It’s the people who constantly scan the menus and then feel the need to recite what I can and cannot eat that annoy me…or the men I have dated who make ME choose the restaurants because I am the “difficult eater.” To be fair, I love steakhouses- no one does creamed spinach or mashed potatoes better than a decent steakhouse. And I am the LAST person to complain about a choice of restaurant. After all, vegetarianism was my decision and I wouldn’t think of denying anyone else gastronomic pleasures. I have NEVER been to a restaurant where there is absolutely nothing for me to eat- bread and butter will always hold me over if need be.

Vegetarianism is just a part of my daily life. Nothing more- nothing less. It’s not my identity- it’s not a factor of “who I am” and I would NEVER EVER name it as one of my defining characteristics as some annoying vegetarians do. All it is, is the result of an incident 24 years ago. Do I miss meat? No, I don’t remember what it tastes like. Do I ever want meat? Yes! The smell of bacon cooking is deathly.

My friends tell me that I am the most carnivorous vegetarian they have ever met. Put a gorgeous leafy salad in front of me and a plate of delicately grilled vegetables and I will squirm like a little kid. If I’m REALLY hungry, I might even pout. Sometimes, and my friends can attest to this, I get so pissed off that I send my rabbit-food back and order a cheese platter and a plate of truffle French fries with garlic mayonnaise dip. Now, that’s food.

If I could get past my mental blockage for just one day, I would definitely make my rounds; my morning would commence with eggs Benedict and a massive side of bacon. For a snack, I would eat beef jerky (odd, I know- but ever since a camping trip where everyone lived on jerky- I’ve fantasized about it). For lunch, I might have steak tartare with a raw egg cracked on top. If I’m in warm weather and lobster is in season, I’ll dig into a huge Maine lobster and maybe a shrimp cocktail and crab cakes. I’ll have to try an oyster or two. Oh, and fried calamari drenched in fresh lemon of course!! For a late-afternoon snack, I would stop by a local Thai restaurant and order chicken satay with peanut sauce. I may, and I hate to say it, drive through Mc. Donald’s for some chicken nuggets. If I were in Miami, there is no doubt I would end up at Joe’s with heaps of stone crabs on my table. Now comes dinner- the Pièce de résistance- I would begin with an appetizer of foie gras and a plate of prosciutto cotto with buffala mozzarella and melon. My main course would be Bistecca Alla Fiorentina from Acqua al Due in Florence (I don’t care how much it will cost to fly the fucker in) AND a bright pink flaky tuna steak with truffled potatoes on the side. My midnight snack would be a Japanese schmorgasborg of Kobi beef, popcorn shrimp, spicy tuna rolls, california rolls, assorted sashimi (salmon, eel, squid, tuna, mackerel, yellow tail, octopus and the like) and plenty of cold sake. There will be NO tofu involved, you can be sure of that.

I suppose I am a carnivorous vegetarian after all- I cannot tell you how much fun I just had making up that fantasy menu. Alas, I will never eat any of those delectable treats. As much as I want to, I just can’t. I bring a flesh filled fork to my mouth and all I see is a furry little animal hopping around enjoying its own life- breathing, eating, pro-creating. How can I take that away from them when there is so much soy in the world?? Mind you- I wear leather. No point in commenting that I am a hypocrite- I already know that. It’s just that the thought of wearing animals is far more appealing than ingesting them. Somehow I am able to separate the two when it comes to clothes and I can’t when it comes to food.

Vegetarians in General;

I hate to admit it but I tend to agree with the “health-food-freak haters” out there. Vegetarians are annoying, preaching and exasperating. I despise it when I am put into this category without being given the chance to explain myself. The majority of vegetarians I have met are generally arrogant and opinionated. These are the vegetarians that make gagging noises as a juicy burger is placed on the table or the ones who rant about animal cruelty as you order a steak sandwich from your favorite take-out. Who wants to hear that? Don’t accept an invitation to Peter Luger if you can’t maintain the common courtesy to keep your mouth shut!

I recently read “Kitchen Confidential, Adventures in the Culinary Underbelly” by (now) celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain. He wrote, “vegetarians are the enemy of everything good and decent in the human spirit, an affront to all I stand for, the pure enjoyment of food.” Part of me wants to hate him. Part of me wants to sit him down and explain that sometimes vegetarianism isn’t a choice, it’s inherent- and I still love food. But the biggest part of me wants to be his friend. I think I would love him. By the way- it’s a great book, I recommend it to non-vegetarians the world over.

A few afterthoughts;

-You are not a vegetarian if you eat fish. Get over yourself.

-I am so sick of the same tired “vegetarian options”; Portobello burgers, spinach and ricotta ravioli, and the “chef’s special” grilled vegetable platter. You are a chef...an artist...employ a little imagination please!

- I’m still stuck on where yogurt stands. My morning yogurt said “not suitable for vegetarians” on the container and I was gutted. Do “live cultures” count?

-For the best carnivorous veggie snack in the world, do try; http://www.tofurky.com/products/jurky.htm
I lived on the stuff until Whole Foods stopped carrying it.

-I resided with a family in southern Spain for the summer when I was 16 and I told them I was a vegetarian in the few Spanish words I knew. I figured it was a non-issue, but when I wouldn’t eat the bowl of snails placed in front of me, they called the program and told them I had an eating disorder. Looking back, I should have invested in a better dictionary.

-Vegans are nuts

-I once had a poster in my room that claimed “Meat is Murder, Abortion isn’t.” I bought it on Venice Beach in California circa 1997. You could say that was my first brush with activism.

-Russia is the worst country in the world for vegetarians- unless you like cabbage salad with a side of vodka. And as far as animal hide is concerned- even the bums wear fur.