In an uncharactertistic departure from the 'no recipe' rule, we recently tried this recipe from Bon Apetit magazine, which just sounded too good to pass up.
Not to be completely drawn into the written word, our variation was to do a stacked enchilada, versus the rolled ones the recipe called for. I definitely recommend this, especially if you use the smaller corn tortillas.
And here's a play-by-play of the preparation and plating:
When I was growing up on the East coast, we'd go to my Nonna's house for Sunday dinner. It was a ritual, and it was quite like the multiplication of the fishes and loaves. There was an open invitation, and with 40+ first cousins, you could always count on there being a crowd. The numbers fluctuated, but no matter how many there were, there was always enough food.
Her sauce simmering on the stove is a memory that has the smell attached to it in my brain (you knew it had been in the works for hours...made from scratch, with big ole bay leaves and other incredible spices). There would be pasta and meatballs, lasagna, breaded artichokes, bread, olives and salumi and the list goes on. If you didn't take a heaping plate of food, she would admonish you with a stern "An empty bag can't stand up". I remember thinking on more than one ocassion, 'sure, but an absolutely full bag can't be moved!'. But, I never protested too loudly.
We've started our own tradition of a monthly pasta dinner. On the third Sunday of every month, our friends are invited to stop by our place for food and friendship. It's really fun to have a standing invitation, and this is definitely an experience that my husband and I share in equally. I'm on meatball duty and use my Nonna's 'recipe' (in finger quotes, because it was never actually written down, but it has been shared from one aunt to her daughter and one cousin to the next.
Here are a few shots of recent lasagna prep:
and another, with veggie on the left and carnivore on the right! Buon appetito!
A trip to the grocery store with Jeremiah is an adventure, primarily because he never has a plan for what he's going to make. It's safe to assume it will be fish, since I can't eat meat, but that's about as focused as it gets. It's pretty much a factor of whatever looks good, and whatever ingredients he's inspired by. I throw in the odd (emphasis on 'odd') suggestion here and there, so there's some collaboration. But really, most of the time, my collaboration for dinner is washing dishes after the meal :)
On this day, the sea bass looked delicious, and the call was for a green tea glaze he had either read about or enjoyed at a restaurant at some point. Hey, I'm just the photographer! Green tea was steeped in the bottom pan, and the fish was placed on the grill over it, with a glaze poured over the fish during baking:
With some chopped seaweed as garnish, the final presentation was a treat:
When I was a little girl, my dad came home one day with a plaque for my mom. She read it with a smile and it was followed by a huge laugh, hug and kiss for my dad. That plaque occupied a place of prominence in the kitchen. It read "Cooking is like love. It should be entered into with abandon, or not at all."
As I think about the celebration of 'forever' that Jeremiah and I will make in June, surrounded by family and friends, I find myself thinking about that plaque. That may sound like a bit of a weak segue, but that just means you haven't yet experienced a meal created by Jeremiah.
I'm not kidding. I don't say this just because I'm crazy about him (although I am). The meals he makes are incredible. The thing that's really infectious about them is that when he is cooking, there is so much joy about it. I love watching him prepare a meal -- I'm generally on table setting, appetizer and wine-pouring duty. He creates, tastes, seasons. And together we enjoy! Bon apetit.
It's true. This year, I got the best Christmas present ever, when my sweetheart Jeremiah asked me to build a life with him. Since the first time we met in May, I just knew he was my forever. I can't wait to celebrate our wedding with family and friends.
I had the good blessing to celebrate the 40th Annual DiPaola Family Picnic recently. There were about 120 relatives gathered together---catching up on one another's lives, sharing stories, giving hugs and taking pictures.
I have such great memories of the Family Picnic growing up -- the hayride, the egg toss, the bubble blowing contest and the food. Ahhhh, the food. Row upon row of salads, sausages, breads and more.
My cousin Angela and I were recalling how we used to be able to drink 4 cans of soda and eat 3 burgers at the picnics when we were young(er) girls. Oh to have the metabolism (and energy!) of my 10-year old self.
I'm looking forward to the next 40 years of picnics!
With considerable delight, I checked off the box beside 'attend the All-Star Game" on my list of things to do.
Sitting along the first base line for the Home Run Derby Monday and the All Star game Tuesday was a blast. The weather cooperated on both days, although it did threaten to rain during Tuesday's game.
But, the sunshine -- and the American League--- prevailed. I guess Mother Nature likes baseball!
