Cooking with My Sisters Part 5

4 extra-large eggs 5 tablespoons granulated sugar 2 cups all-purpose flour 3 tablespoons baking powder teaspoon salt 2 to 3 cups vegetable oil Confectioners' sugar, for sprinkling In a large bowl, beat the eggs with the granulated sugar. Add the flour, baking powder, and salt, mixing well.

Begin heating the oil in a saucepan over high heat until it is ready for frying the dough. (Take a small, test piece of the dough and drop it in the oil. If the dough rises to the surface, the oil is ready.) Roll the dough into a thin layer using a pastry roller. Then, using a pizza cutter with a serrated edge, cut the dough into various lengths. Tie each length of dough into a loose knot and drop the prepared dough into the hot oil piece by piece. There should only be a few of the prepared pastries frying at a time. Remove the pastries once they have fried to a golden hue. Place them on paper towels to absorb the excess oil. Sprinkle with the confectioners' sugar and serve on a pretty plate. They especially look nice when stacked high.

Grandmom Trigiani was always experimenting, and the miniature cupcakes on were such a hit the first time she made them, they are now a family cla.s.sic. They arrived on the scene in the seventies. They're not traditionally Italian, but they evoke the rich desserts that use mascarpone cheese.

Miniature Cupcakes MAKES 7 TO 8 DOZEN.

FILLING.

8 ounces cream cheese 1 egg cup sugar teaspoon salt In a medium bowl, beat all ingredients until creamy.

CAKE BATTER.

1 cups all-purpose flour cup cocoa 1 cup sugar 1 teaspoon baking soda teaspoon salt 1 cup water cup vegetable oil 1 tablespoon white vinegar teaspoon vanilla extract TOPPING.

6 ounces miniature bittersweet chocolate chips Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the flour, cocoa, sugar, baking soda, and salt.

In a separate bowl, combine the water, oil, vinegar, and vanilla. Add to the dry ingredients and mix.

Using miniature cupcake tins lined with paper wrappers, fill each cup half full with the batter. Then drop in teaspoon of the filling. Finally, drop a couple of miniature chocolate chips on top. Bake for 20 minutes. Remove from the oven and allow to cool, then store in the refrigerator.

Grandmom Trigiani also liked to make rolled pastries, and this one seems Middle Eastern or even Eastern European in origin. I guess some version of this wonderful pastry is found in nearly every cuisine. Grandmom made two versions, and she probably picked up this recipe at a c.o.c.ktail party.

Nut or Poppy Seed Rolls MAKES 3 LOAVES.

PASTRY.

2 packets of active dry yeast 1 cups warm milk 4 tablespoons sugar pound (1 stick) unsalted b.u.t.ter 4 cups all-purpose flour 2 egg yolks, beaten 1 teaspoon salt Place the yeast in a pan and add the warm milk and sugar. Let stand while you combine the b.u.t.ter and flour, as if for a pie crust, in a large bowl. Make a well in the center of the b.u.t.ter-flour mixture and place the egg yolks, salt, and yeast mixture there. Mix until smooth and the dough leaves the side of the bowl easily.

Divide the dough into 4 parts and roll out to about inch thick. Spread with the filling. Roll.

Place each filled roll in a greased 15 10-inch jelly-roll pan, cover with a cloth, and let stand in a warm place for about an hour. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Bake the rolls uncovered for 30 to 45 minutes, just until brown. Remove from the oven and cover with a damp cloth immediately; keep covered for 10 minutes. Slice into pieces 1 inch in width.

NUT FILLING.

pound almonds, ground pound ( stick) unsalted b.u.t.ter teaspoon vanilla extract cup honey cup brown sugar Combine the ingredients in a medium saucepan and cook over low heat until the b.u.t.ter melts. Mix well and allow to cool.

POPPY SEED FILLING.

pound ground poppy seeds cup corn syrup cup sugar pound ( stick) unsalted b.u.t.ter Combine the ingredients in a medium saucepan and cook over low heat, stirring constantly, until it boils. Remove from the heat immediately; allow to cool.

Cookie platters were a part of every special day in Roseto: milestone birthdays, baptisms, weddings, First Communions, even funerals. They were as elaborate as the living rooms embellished with crystal, velvet, brocade, and marble that came to represent success in the new country. And they were as festooned as the outfits you'd see on the Roseto women for any of these events. (Except a funeral-plain black, of course.) The most high-profile cookie platter venue was, hands-down, the Roseto wedding. This event always featured a wedding cake, but the long tables bore round platters of gorgeous cookies, made by the women of the town and shared with the bride's family. There was one special cookie that was like a small cake itself, not like an American cupcake, but denser and smaller, in the shape of a dome. (The ornament you see in the photograph adorned Grandmom and Grandpop Trigiani's wedding cake in 1932.) As wedding parties got bigger, with bridesmaids in elaborate get-ups, it became a common practice to ice these cookies in the colors of the bridesmaids' gowns. Some of the cookies were iced white and dusted with coconut, in honor of the bride.

Wedding Cookies MAKES 3 DOZEN.

PASTRY.

pound (1 stick) unsalted b.u.t.ter pound (1 stick) unsalted margarine 1 cup sugar 3 large eggs 1 teaspoon almond extract cup milk 3 to 3 cups all-purpose flour Pinch of salt 5 teaspoons baking powder Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

In a large bowl, cream the b.u.t.ter, margarine, sugar, and eggs together. Then add the almond extract, milk, flour, salt, and baking powder.

Keeping your hands wet, shape a piece of dough into a ball (baci-style-a little higher in the middle). Bake on an ungreased baking sheet for 13 minutes, or until lightly brown.

Cool.

ICING.

pound ( box) confectioners' sugar 2 tablespoons b.u.t.ter 1 tablespoon milk, plus more if needed Almond flavoring to taste Food coloring, if desired Shredded sweetened coconut, for dipping Mix all ingredients but coconut together until a frosting consistency is reached. Ice the cooled cookies and dip into shredded coconut.

A Tip from Toni: After icing, arrange these on a dish and cover tightly with plastic wrap. These cookies can get a little hard when left in the air.

Personal style signified another cultural awakening when the Bonicellis merged with the Trigianis. As a seamstress and the default alterations expert in Chisholm, Grandma Lucy was renowned for the beauty of her st.i.tching, so much so that if you turn the hem of one of her pieces, you marvel at the even s.p.a.cing and straight rows. (She and her craftsmans.h.i.+p were the inspiration for the main character in my novel Lucia, Lucia, and not just because of her beautiful name!) Grandma Lucy made the majority of her twin daughters' clothes until they were well into their married lives. This included work clothes, wedding dresses and trousseaus, maternity clothes, and evening dresses. Mary still wears a two-piece black peau-de-soie evening outfit that Grandma Lucy made for Mom forty-odd years ago. The elegance and richness of these clothes come not from over-the-top design but from tailoring and quality fabrics. Think Jacqueline Kennedy, not Gina Lollobrigida.

Dad and Mom at the Morris Inn, Notre Dame, Indiana, as they dive into their reception feast. They were married on a Monday. Mom is refres.h.i.+ngly unconventional.

When Mrs. Kennedy became famous for the pillbox hat, Mom was a little affronted, because she'd been wearing them for years. In fact, her wedding veil, circa 1956, was attached to a narrow pillbox that Mom had made herself. It was so cla.s.sic that when Checka married Tom Noone in 1999, she wore the same veil.

Mom loved to make hats. When she dresses for church on Sunday, Mom wears a hat. She isn't a feather and flower type, unless it is a single embellishment. Mom must have a beret in every color of the universe. When we were little, Mom made sure her daughters had all the equipment as well. We wore hats, gloves, dress shoes, and feminine frocks.

* Mary says: "Adri bristled at all the accessories and was always scratching and pulling at her clothes. Mom could count on having to search for little white gloves in between the seats after Adri got out of the car. That, and she always had to straighten her hat and pull up her socks."

Mary's First Holy Communion is the perfect example of Mom's fas.h.i.+on ethic.

A child's First Holy Communion is a special day in the life of Roman Catholics, and Mary's day was made even more special by the presence of Don Andrea. A journalist as well as a priest, our great-uncle had chosen to remain at home in Bergamo and run the newspaper there rather than accept a post in Rome when Cardinal Angelo Roncalli was elected pope. John XXIII was from Bergamo, and over the years, the two had come to know each other well. This minimal degree of separation from the Holy Father was viewed gratefully and with all the appropriate reverence. When Mom and Dad heard that Don Andrea would be visiting the United States at the time of Mary's First Communion, they naturally informed Father Gennaro Leone, the pastor of Roseto's church. Father Leone invited Don Andrea to concelebrate the Ma.s.s.

Well, the only thing bigger would have been if the pope were coming himself. At home, Mary was coached for days about how, in addition to preparing herself for the privilege of the sacrament of Holy Communion, she had to be a perfect example of Catholic girlhood. At school, the Salesian sisters were all over the entire cla.s.s to ensure the same.

Mary's First Holy Communion. Don Andrea adjusts Mary's veil, and Pia looks on.

Mom had very specific plans for Mary's ensemble. And they diverged from the typical Roseto outfit for a little girl's First Communion. All the other girls in the cla.s.s would be done up in frothy confections of white lace and tulle-including foofy skirts, short sleeves, and even foofier veils attached to elaborate crowns or headpieces, all of which mimicked the look of the typical Roseto bride. Mary soon learned that she would be the lone Givenchy/Ca.s.sini/Valentino-inspired communicant. Grandma Lucy made her dress, a straight chemise of white satin that b.u.t.toned up the back and had long sleeves. The only embellishments were the tiny pearl b.u.t.tons. And the veil was a mini-Mom, made by her: pillbox hat with veil straight down the back.

* Mary says: "Elegant, and, in retrospect, entirely appropriate. If I walk down the aisle in a white dress again (whatever the reason), I hope it's in the same sophisticated motif. Except for the headgear. Mom had my hair pulled back in the tightest ponytail of my seven-year-old existence, and there must have been four hat pins in addition to the elastic band holding that veil in place. Besides being my First Communion, it was my First Headache."

Nothing gets in the way of Mom's sense of propriety or taste. She is steadfast in her sensibilities, which have influenced each of her daughters in only the best way. In the kitchen, on the job, at the party. Italians call this dedication to dressing with impact "fare una bella figura," which loosely translated means to cut a fine figure. The women in our family have great style, yet style has meant something different for each one. And they all have shared the obsession with la bella figura at the table as well.

Those Roseto cookie platters were true works of art. In Grandmom Trigiani's kitchen and on her platters you would find s...o...b..a.l.l.s, fishes, and taralli. The latter are a southern Italian treat made two ways, sweet and savory, often served with wine.

s...o...b..a.l.l.s MAKES 3 DOZEN.

pound (2 sticks) unsalted b.u.t.ter, softened 6 tablespoons sugar 2 cups all-purpose flour 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 cup ground pecans cup confectioners' sugar Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.

Combine the ingredients except the confectioners' sugar in a bowl. To make the cookies, take a teaspoonful at a time and roll into a ball. Place on a greased cookie sheet, about 2 inches apart.

Bake for 30 minutes. Let cool a bit, but roll in the confectioners' sugar while they're still a little warm.

Fishes MAKES ABOUT 3 DOZEN.

FILLING.

6 egg whites pound crushed walnuts pound confectioners' sugar DOUGH.

6 egg yolks pound (2 sticks) unsalted b.u.t.ter, softened 2 cups all-purpose flour In a medium bowl, mix the ingredients for the filling and set aside. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

In a large bowl, mix the dough ingredients together until smooth. Roll out into a piece about 2 12 inches long and 1 inch thick. Spread with filling-not too full-and roll closed. Cut into pieces about 2 inches long and form into a crescent, closing both ends by pinching. Bake 8 to 12 minutes, or until lightly brown.

Taralli Sweet Taralli MAKES 2 DOZEN.

4 eggs cup granulated sugar 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon 2 tablespoons anisette teaspoon vanilla extract 3 cups all-purpose flour cup olive oil In a large bowl, beat 3 of the eggs with the sugar. Add the cinnamon, anisette, vanilla extract, and flour to form a dough. Cover and set aside in a cool place for 2 hours.

Take a piece of the dough and roll it between your hands, making a pencil-like shape 4 to 5 inches long. Create a circle by joining the ends together and pinching them closed. Beat the remaining egg and brush each piece.

In a small saucepan, heat the olive oil, which should be about inch deep. Fry the rings three at a time until brown. Remove and drain on paper towels.

Savory Taralli MAKES 4 DOZEN.

packet (1 teaspoons) active dry yeast cup lukewarm water (105110 degrees) cup vegetable oil 2 eggs, lightly beaten 1 teaspoon salt 1 tablespoon fennel seed 4 cups all-purpose flour In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast in the lukewarm water and allow to bubble. Add the rest of the ingredients, except the flour, to the yeast mixture. Add the flour and mix well.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Take a piece of the dough and roll it between your hands, making a pencil-like shape 4 to 5 inches long. Create a circle by joining the ends together and pinching them closed. Place on a greased cookie sheet and bake for about 8 minutes, or until lightly brown.

Cool.

For a little more drama in a dinner-party setting, there was always the zabaglione. We attribute Dad's lifelong love affair with dessert-his pet name for the course was "dessertina"-to the fresh zabaglione he had every morning as a child. This recipe, though, is Grandma Lucy's. After Grandpa Carlo became ill, she made this for him every day.

* Mom says: "This not only tastes good, it's nutritious. There were many days when it was difficult for Papa to eat. But Mama would make him the zabaglione, and sometimes he would even pour a little red wine in it."

Zabaglione SERVES 4.

5 egg yolks 1 whole egg 2 tablespoons sugar cup Marsala wine In the top of a double boiler, place the egg yolks, whole egg, and sugar. Set over a simmering pot of water. Beat, by hand, with a wire whisk until the mixture is yellow and frothy.

Gradually blend in the Marsala a small amount at a time. Continue using the whisk, over the simmering water, until the mixture increases in volume. This should take no more than 10 minutes.

When the mixture holds its shape on a spoon, it is ready to serve. Serve warm in dessert bowls or in stemware.

Dad would often recall how special he was made to feel by his morning zabaglione, and he used the story to remind us of the honored role of the first-born son. Of course, Dad's aunts used to mutter "spoiled" under their breaths, but they were just as guilty of the ancient Italian practice of elevating sons above daughters. Even Grandma Lucy would beam when her Orlando entered the room. For these women, their sons were knights in s.h.i.+ning armor. In Lucy's case, Orlando was the only man in an all-female household, yet he was respectful of women and a true gentleman. She taught him well.

And Grandmom Trigiani, well, logic and sentiment did win occasionally, particularly when her granddaughters had made their way in the world and would return to dote on her and learn from her. Ultimately, Viola realized that because of her own tendencies and by her own design, and as much as some of her grandsons would spend time with her in the kitchen, that room was the province of women. By the end of her life, she would say often that her granddaughters brought her comfort and humor, a surprise to her but a reward for us.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Snacks and Treats The concept that a person had access to food only three times a day, at regularly scheduled meals, was as foreign to us as the Trigianis were to Big Stone Gap. We probably got our snacking gene from Dad's side, although Mom would shudder at the thought that anyone was hungry. She made sure we had plenty of healthy snacks around. This chapter, though, is largely about the special touches we might find hiding in Grandmom Trigiani's kitchen, or just coming out of her oven.

But first, a word about Grandma Lucy's eating philosophy.

She used to say that all one really needed at a meal was a fist-size portion of food. (And she never met a health club physical trainer, diet doctor, or fitness guru.) But she ate when she was hungry. And she generally reached for a piece of fruit or a few nuts. Mom would let us eat a small snack when we got home from school in the afternoon, but she monitored our intake because she didn't want dinner ruined. Same treatment for Dad; if he came home and she noticed his head in the refrigerator one too many times, she'd remind him how much she was working to make him a nice dinner. Guilt was always a good incentive in Ida's kitchen.

* Toni says: "Yes, but it rarely worked on Dad. I first tasted Gorgonzola thanks to one of Dad's before-dinner snacks. Not only was his head in the refrigerator, he always found the primo stuff."

Chef Carlo with the seasonings.

Chef Michael with the directions.

From the Trigianis we learned that there were more than fifty ways to cla.s.sify your snack. So we were pretty inventive. Mary remembers the boys, in particular, concocting mini-meals. A favorite of ours was to toast sliced bread, spread mayonnaise on it, and throw lettuce in the middle. One of those got you through your mid-afternoon slump. I liked anything with vinegar on it. We all liked radishes and carrots, too. Grandma Lucy used to keep a supply of radishes in cold water in the sink at the back of her shoe shop. And Mom had a great recipe for pickled eggs. The amount of vinegar needed depends on the size of the eggs and the size of the container.

Pickled Eggs MAKES 1 DOZEN.

1 dozen hard-boiled eggs One 16-ounce can round beets with juice White vinegar 1 tablespoon whole peppercorns Place the eggs into a - to 1-gallon gla.s.s container. Add the beets with their juice. Completely fill the jar with vinegar. Sprinkle the peppercorns on the top and seal.

Refrigerate for at least 24 hours. The longer the eggs are allowed to cure, the darker the color will become and the stronger the beet-vinegar flavoring will be in the eggs.

Loving restaurants the way Dad did, we logged a lot of time in some nice establishments. We also learned early on from Dad how to order. For example, if we were in a seafood restaurant and someone ordered a hamburger, Dad would make a huge point about how one should always have fish in a seafood restaurant-both because it was what they did best and because you should try everything. He wanted us to experience everything we could, which is why even a humble snack got the all'italiana treatment.

Dad would always look at a plate first and admire it, even if it was a lowly sandwich. Although when it came to Grandmom Trigiani, no sandwich was lowly. It was actually a meal. And if you were lucky enough to be with Viola on a car trip, her handbag was a bottomless treasure chest of snacks. Sometimes she would pack an entire grocery bag of snacks, and invariably the packer of the car, usually Dad, would complain about there not being enough room for another piece of luggage, and proclaim we'd just stop on the road. Then, Grandmom would complain about the cost of said side trip, both in terms of dollars and time. Two hours into the trip and too early for a stop, someone would say he or she was hungry, and Grandmom would utter her legendary words, "Mmph, I thought you didn't want my sandwiches!"

Chewing on a toothpick, Grandmom serves turkey.

* Toni says: "On one trip back to Big Stone Gap, in the middle of a winter storm, we got caught in a huge traffic jam. We made it through the two-hour-plus wait because Grandmom had snuck a bag of sandwiches and cookies into the car when Dad wasn't looking. After that, Dad never complained about Grandmom's bags!"

When she was in her eighties, Grandmom Trigiani would take the bus with her friends to Atlantic City, and she always packed a bag then, too, even though one of the biggest incentives for these groups was the free meal they got at the casino.

Viola Trigiani: "I'm so sick of slots." Grandmom, who loved gambling as much as cooking, finally admits she's tired of the emotional roller coaster of winning and losing in Atlantic City.

Grandmom's Ham and b.u.t.ter Sandwiches 4 ounces (1 stick) sweet cream b.u.t.ter, or fresh if you can find it 1 loaf of Italian bread, preferably on the sweet side, cut into 8 pieces of equal width 1 pound ham, preferably Italian prosciutto, cut into very thin slices Spread the b.u.t.ter on both sides of the bread and layer on the ham. Now you have sandwiches!

One of our favorite road snacks was the ham and b.u.t.ter sandwich. While Grandmom Trigiani generally preferred more Italian-style ham, she was an equal-opportunity ham buyer. And, she always had ham, in some variety, in her refrigerator. One could never go hungry if there was ham, bread, and b.u.t.ter in the house. Which brings us to The Virginia Ham Story.

Grandmom not only had a second kitchen in the bas.e.m.e.nt, she had an extra refrigerator in the garage. So when she and Grandpop bought a ham on their way back from one of their visits to Big Stone Gap, she put it in the garage refrigerator.

Grandpop had a handsome German shepherd named Duke who lived in a pen outside the house. When Grandpop let him out of the pen, Duke would go bananas trying to play with us, run, search for small animals, run in circles, try to get in the house, and did I mention, run? At about twenty miles per hour. When Grandpop was going to let Duke out of his pen, he would give us the high sign, and those of us who weren't up for Duke's antics would take cover.

From left: Adri, Michael, Mary, Toni, and Pia. No matter how casual the occasion, Pia always wore black patent-leather Mary Janes.

One Sat.u.r.day afternoon, Grandmom decided to clean the garage refrigerator. The contents of the refrigerator were placed gently on a clean towel on the floor of the garage, except for the Virginia ham, which she carried into the kitchen and left on the counter. She kept the door open to the kitchen so she could move back and forth between it and the garage. At the same time, and unbeknownst to her, Grandpop headed out to Duke's pen to let him out. You can guess the rest. Within thirty seconds of receiving his freedom, and this is not an exaggeration, Duke's food radar pulled him right into the kitchen and right to that ham. It was gone in another thirty seconds.

Grandmom was apoplectic. This was on the level of a tragedy for her. So what ensued was one of the biggest, most entertaining arguments we had witnessed to date. Meanwhile, Duke was the calmest we had ever seen him, his belly full, too tired to chase us for sport.