Focaccia with Figs, Onion and Walnuts

This is my alternative to darkness, fear, nostalgia, pride, sadness with no destination, the rain, the uncertainty, unanswered questions, expired passports, grammar mistakes, Texas, the camping out for the latest iPhone, the latest iPhone, songs by Pupo, headache, heartache, knee bruises, tight shoes, high-heeled shoes, fur-lined shoes, November, answering machines, pale tomatoes, sauce stains, cold feet, watered down coffee, overcooked pasta, withered flowers, Wi-Fi with password, train strikes, pizza with pineapple, D in the report card, a sold out show, the end of the book, queues at the supermarket, rosé wine.
Two figs and a focaccia and let's not talk about it anymore.




Focaccia with Figs, Onion and Walnuts
for two baking dishes of 8x12 inches

For the dough
type O flour 500 gr
lukewarm water approx. 275 gr
fresh brewer's yeast 10 gr
salt 10 gr
olive oil 1 tablespoon

For the toping
red onion 1
sugar 1 tablespoon
walnuts 1 handful
fresh figs 10-12
salt, pepper, olive oil as needed

The dough is the same that I used here, the recipe comes from the Simili sisters, do I need to add anything else?
In a bowl, dissolve the yeast with some of the water, add a little bit of flour, 1 tablespoon of olive oil, salt, and then the remaining flour and the rest of the water in two batches, alternating them and always beating the dough. Place it on the work surface and knead for 7-8 minutes, put it back in the bowl greased with oil, and let it double in size (it'll take about two hours).
Place it back on the work surface, divide the dough in half, form two loaves and place them on the baking dishes lined with parchment paper. Let them rest for another 15 minutes, then flatten them with a short rolling pin and the palm of your hand until they cover the bottom of the pan almost completely. Let rise for 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, peel the onions, slice them thin, season with a tablespoon of olive oil and a tablespoon of sugar, salt and pepper, and roast them for a few minutes under the grill. Cut figs in half and coarsely chop the walnuts.
Spread the figs and the onion on the surface of the focaccias. Push the tip of your fingers into the dough, forming deep imprints until you touch the pan, drizzle with 3 tablespoons of olive oil beaten with 3 tablespoons of water, and plenty of salt. Let them double again (this will require about an hour and a half). Bake at 390 for 25-30 minutes. Ten minutes before they're ready, sprinkle with the walnuts kept aside.
w.v.<3

Focaccia with Grapes and Rosemary

A wise man once to the question "Who or what are we?", answered: we are the sum of everything that has happened before us, everything that has happened before our eyes, everything that has been done to us; we are every person, every little thing whose existence has influenced us or which we have influenced with our lives; we are everything that happens after we no longer exist, and what would not have happened if we had never existed.
~ From the movie Almanya - My family goes to Germany
Yasemin Şamdereli, Germany 2011


When was the last time I saw you passing by, tanned and seductive, wearing those freckles and the wonder for life? I still remember your black hair, tied together against the wind, your colorful floral dress, fresh of summer and ingenuity, and your sandals already tight and from other times.
I was leaving towards the North, to chase a wealth that we had never had: a job that would last tomorrow, the security of a future, warm hands, two pennies and fatigue. I was looking for you in my mind, so beautiful in your twenties, while I slowly savored the sadness, so heavy and shiny, that September day that I left.
Two generations consumed among people who didn't really belong to us, who were looking at us awry and indifferent, between cold and foreign colors and horizons, strong perfumes yet devoid of memories. My father, locked up in his pride, never talked about it; the past was almost a shame that he seemed to have left behind, and yet it was all still there, asleep in the silence of his dark and sad eyes: the carts pushed by hand during harvest, the rise with the baskets on the shoulders, the grape must, the barrels, the bare feet and the cheer.
To me, sunsets and long summer days were enough: I'd close my eyes and I'd find the faces, I'd listen to those voices already distant and I'd feel alive again within the memory of their warm smiles. But tell me now, girl of that time, tell me now how your life went. I came back today among my poor people, hunting for what I can't find anymore. Roads, trees, houses and streams, everything always the same, and then, why so different? The stones, the streets, the names and the squares, I've cradled them inside, I've polished, protected and loved them in the sweet shell of my fantasies; I pretended they were my happiness, yet now that I'm so close, I don't recognize them anymore.
I brought you this flower as a gift, the red rose that I'd never given you. Only you, girl of that time, now that you're gone forever, only you are here for me to stay, that laugh with the eyes open and that life that was not.




Focaccia with Grapes and Rosemary
for 8 people

flour 400 gr
fresh brewer's yeaast 20 gr
water approx. 225 gr
salt 1 pinch
Concord grapes 1 kg
sugar, extra virgin olive oil, rosemary as needed

Dissolve yeast in lukewarm water and knead with flour, salt, 3 tablespoons of sugar and 3 tablespoons of olive oil until you get an elastic ball, smooth and homogeneous. Place in a bowl, cover with a cloth and let rise for about 1 hour and a half.
In the meantime, arm yourself with holy, holy patience, rinse the grapes and remove the seeds. (Yes, sorry).
Spread 2/3 of the dough on a greased pan lined with parchment paper, spread 2/3 of the grapes on top, sprinkle with sugar and finely chopped rosemary, and then drizzle with a little oil. Cover with the rest of the dough, fold and seal the edges, and then spread the rest of the grapes on the surface, dress with 2 tablespoons of sugar and a little oil. Bake at 360 for about 45 minutes.
If you wish, sprinkle with powdered sugar.
w.v.<3

Tomato Peach Bruschetta

summer's here to stay
and those sweet summer girls
will dance forever...
~ DMB, Dive In

What could be better than bread and tomato under the sunlight?
Bread, peaches and tomatoes.
Trust me, I take full responsibility.




Tomato Peach Bruschetta
for 4

yellow peaches 2
cherry tomatoes 10-15
balsamic vinegar 3 tablespoons
extra virgin olive oil 3 tablespoons
garlic 3-4 cloves
salt, pepper, fresh basil to taste
country bread slices

Peel the peaches and cut them in small cubes. Mix them with the cherry tomatoes, rinsed and cut into quarters, season with salt, pepper, olive oil, balsamic vinegar and chopped fresh basil. Cover and let rest for at least an hour.
Toast the bread in the oven for a few minutes, and then brush it still warm with the peeled garlic cloves. Spread bruschetta over the bread slices, sprinkle again with some basil and serve immediately.

Tuscan Bread

Negli angoli di casa cerchi il mondo
nei libri e nei poeti cerchi te...

In the corners of the house you're looking for the world
in the books and the poets you're looking for yourself...
~ Francesco Guccini, Another Day Went By

Take a summer afternoon. Fresh and quirky as the afternoons hooded with fog on the North Pacific, or those pissed off with rain in August up in the mountains. Take a dough of ancient times, lazy but exciting as a poker match on a wrinkled, flowered tablecloth. Add the tenderness of a freshly baked loaf, and that scent so similar to the loaf that they used to give you at the corner, in those fantastic sunny mornings when you had the time to slide in front of the counter for 100 Liras worth of Coke-shaped candies.
Fresh bread, jam and a violent layer of butter were the perfect world, when you really believed in God, and you imagined Him smiling and walking around the clouds, although maybe He got a bit sad if He happened to look down here. You were able to inhabit the stars and the planets with your imagination, arguing with your classmates over the ownership of Alpha, Beta, and the Pole Star, as well as a share of Saturn and the absolute dominion over Jupiter. And everything would last forever, the house on a tree, the daisies, the board games, bread&nutella and the afternoon tea. Because it was easy to take each other by hand and slip into the night, without thinking what it will be, where it will be, tomorrow.


Short note: I'm pleased to announce that this recipe is part of the August 2013 issue of Threef, a photography & food magazine; it's a special issue dedicated to Time, the time that passes, that stops or that you dream of, and also the time that never comes back.
If you weren't judge me biased, I'd recommend you browse it, because it's really worth it. But I won't say anything, because I'm not biased.




Tuscan Bread*
for 1 loaf

Starter
fine ground flour 300 gr
water 180 gr
fresh brewer's yeast 5 gr

Mix all the ingredients in a bowl until the dough is well blended, but working as little as possible. Cover and let rise at room temperature for 20-24 hours.

Second Rise 105 gr
fine ground flour 100 gr
water 50 gr
fresh brewer's yeast 2 gr

Dissolve the starter and the yeast with the water and knead briefly with the flour, then cover again and let rise for another 20-24 hours.

Dough
fine ground flour 250 gr
water 150 gr ca
fresh brewer's yeast 2 gr

Place the flour on the work surface, make a well in the middle, then crumble in the center the fresh yeast and the starter. Dissolve with water and when you get a well-blended mixture, add the flour and knead by hand, working as little as possible. Shape the dough into a loaf, push it down and lay it vertically in front of you. Lift one edge and fold it toward the center, place your thumbs on the folded part and press until you reach the surface of the table below. Keep folding in the same direction until you completely roll the dough. Place it on a kitchen towel, well dusted with flour, with the fold underneath, dust with more flour, wrap it with the cloth, squeezing a little and sealing it as if it were a package, and let it rise for at least half hour. When ready, there will be cracks all over the surface. Sprinkle some flour on the back of a tray, grab the towel and position the bread on your forearm, then transfer it on the tray placing the fold underneath without any abrupt movement. Slide it on a baking stone or a baking sheet already hot, bake it in a preheated oven at 430 for 10 minutes, then lower to 350-375 approximately for 40 minutes.

*I took the recipe from the infallible bible of the Simili Sisters, Pane e Roba Dolce (Bread and Sweet Things). A must-have for all food fanatics and food bloggers out there, bakers and not, since the dawn of time.

Vegan Pull Apart Brioche with Cocoa and Cinnamon

Homeward bound
I wish I was
Homeward bound...
Home, where my thought's escaping
Home, where my music's playing
Home, where my love lies waiting
Silently for me...
~ Paul Simon & Art Garfunkel, Homeward Bound

Since I saw this wonderful thing here, at his place, I had no peace. All that massive amount of warmth and sweetness could not slip away without consequences. Because it's like being hit by a bomb of cuddling, being knocked out by a punch of love in the eye, or a shot of tenderness in the chest. And I repeat it here for the twomillioneighthundredandfortyseventhousandthreehundredandfourth time, I've got a tender heart. It may not look like it, but I'm easy to conquer; two breadsticks, half a glass of wine (but red, pay attention! and if it's mulled wine or fragolino, consider myself yours...), a free smile, four freckles, or a leavened something, languid and soft as Heidi's clouds (yep, that's it, you may as well take note, just in case...).
And if you allow me a small confession, this brioche here, adapted to my kinda new vegan ego, it's also the third time that I make it in a month or so. 'Cause when it comes out of the oven, it's as if I poured over myself a bottle of affection smelling of cocoa and cinnamon; because the scent only can warm your gut like a cup of broth on a rainy night; because in front of a big bowl of tea it's like a creature that wraps you in a loving hug and takes you right back home to watch TV under the blanket.
Homeward Bound . Yes, such is the effect of this brioche. A homecoming, after many years, to find old friends, some faded photo albums, and your stoic stack of vinyl records.





Vegan Pull Apart Brioche
With Cocoa and Cinnamon
for a 9" loaf pan

For the Brioche Dough
type 0 flour 250 gr
bread flour 130 gr
fresh yeast 15 gr
warm water 40 ml
salt 1 pinch
sugar 50 gr
soy milk 100 ml
vanilla extract 1 teaspoon
silken tofu 100 gr
vegetable shortening 60 gr

For the Filling
vegetable shortening 1 tablespoon
light brown sugar 60 gr
unsweetened powdered cocoa 15 gr
cinnamon 1 teaspoon

In the bowl of a standing mixer, or for the less fortunate fellows, in the bowl period, mix flour, sugar, and salt, then add the yeast previously dissolved in warm water, and start kneading.
On the side blend tofu, or, always for Mr Less Fortunate of the last row, crush it well with a spoon so that there are no lumps.
When the mixture in the bowl is blended together, add warm milk, vanilla, and the tofu previously mashed. Keep working until the dough is smooth and round. At this point, slowly add the shortening (ok, ok, I beg your pardon for this vegetable butter otherwise known as margarine, but there is very very little of it, for once we can do it, and maybe we can do without the caramel popcorn fired by the microwave when watching TV under the blanket... parenthesis closed), and keep working with the arms or with the mixer until you get an elastic and slightly sticky ball of dough.
Cover the bowl with a cloth and let rise in a warm place for about an hour and a 15 minutes or until doubled in size. After rising time, deflate the dough on a floured surface and roll it out into a rectangle about 20x11 inches. Brush the surface with melted vegetable shortening and sprinkle with sugar, cocoa and cinnamon mixed together.
Cut the rectangle in 6 strips about 3" wide, and gently stack them one above the other. Cut the tower in 6 rectangles, and place them standing up one next to the other in the slightly greased pan, in herringbone shape. Cover and let rise for 40 minutes. Bake at 350 for 30 to 40 minutes.
Oh, I almost forgot, do yourself a favor and serve it warm.

Meyer Lemon Focaccia with Sea Salt and Rosemary

Another day, another focaccia. Because Focaccia - you know that already, and already - is the best thing in the world.
Ehm... ok, ok, I have to admit, maybe I let it get out of my hand a bit, but for sure you can agree with me that Focaccia is pretty, oh so pretty, good, oh so good, tender, oh so tender. Now, you tell me if this isn't the kind of stuff that makes you fall head over heels.
And then Focaccia is also free, like a canvas sheet you can write what you want on it, there's no cheese or tomato sauce to hold you.
So, let's welcome even this focaccia California-style, with thin lemon slices (for the lucky devil... Meyer lemons), which, after being baked, leave behind an adorable, soft, and a tiny bit sour, dimple.
And for this week, over and out. Goodbye for now, until the next focaccia.


Meyer Lemon Focaccia
with Sea Salt and Rosemary
for two 12" x 10" pans

all-purpose flour 500 gr
fresh brewer's yeast 9 gr
potato flakes 12 gr
lard (gotta do what you gotta do) 18 gr
extra virgin olive oil 10 gr
lukewarm water 300/310 gr (depending on the flour)
salt 10 gr
malt 1/2 teaspoon
lemons or Meyer lemons 2
rosemary, olive oil, sea salt to dress it as needed

You do what you want, but me, for this baking trip I wanted to try the recipe of the Wonderfully Soft Focaccia (which, by the way, is also branded N.K., No-Knead, what's better than this...?) by Paoletta Anice e Cannella, her name itself is a guarantee. And the focaccia turned out exactly as promised, wonderfully soft. And phantasmagorically easy.

Mix all ingredients by hand, just enough time to pull everything together and have one smooth dough and without streaks. Place it in a bowl, cover well and let rise for about 2 hours or 2 hours and 1/2, depending on outside temperature. Take the dough out of the bowl, place it on a floured surface and gently roll it out in a rectangle. Fold 1/3 of the dough on itself, and then fold the free side above the already folded one, as if it were an envelope. Don't worry, it's all actually very simple, just look at the visual explanation by Paoletta, here.
Divide the dough in two parts and fold each one the same way; flip each piece trying to shape into a ball and keeping the "seam" underneath. Cover with a damp cloth and let rest for about one hour.
After this time, take the dough balls, and with oiled hands gently lay them in two, previously oiled pans. Cover with the cloth and let rest for another 30 minutes, until it has slightly swollen.
Sprinkle focaccia with chopped rosemary sprigs, then using your fingertips poke dimples in the dough and season generously with a mixture of olive oil and water. Arrange thin slices of lemon on the surface, sprinkle with coarse sea salt and drizzle some more olive oil on top.
Bake at 450 for about 20 minutes, until focaccia is golden brown.
Hot, super hot; soft, super soft; good, super good.

Focaccia Genovese with Onions

Abbiamo già tutto quello che ci serve per vivere meglio. Basta sceglierlo.

We already have everything we need to live better. You just need to choose it.
(R. Arbore, Focaccia Blues)

Round, rectangular, from Bari, from Genoa, from Recco, but also from Cerveteri, Villorba and - why not? - San Francisco, tall, thin, with cheese, with rosemary, with onion, without onion, warm, cold, dipped in a latte, with beer, on the beach, at the park, on the Golden Gate or on a bike, copied from the Simili sisters (see below), stolen from your mother-in-law, wrapped in newspaper or nibbled with oily hands, there is a whole world of focaccia out there waiting for us. The choice is yours.
Me? I choose focaccia.


Focaccia Genovese
with Red Onions
for a 12 x 15 inches pan*

type O flour 500 gr
lukewarm water approx. 275 gr
fresh yeast 10 gr
salt 10 gr
extra virgin olive oil 1 tablespoon
red onions 3
olive oil and water for brushing, salt, pepper as needed

In a bowl combine the yeast with some water, then add a little flour, 1 tablespoon of olive oil, salt, and yet the remaining flour and water in two times, alternating them and always beating the dough. Place the dough on the table and knead it for 7-8 minutes, then put it in a oiled bowl, and let it double in size (it will take about two hours, ed).
Place it back on the table and form a loaf, which will be transferred on to the baking pan. Let it rest for 15 minutes, and then flatten it with a short rolling pin and with the palm of your hand, until it covers the bottom of the pan almost entirely. If you want, you could flatten the loaf right after it's been placed on the baking pan, but this will require more effort, because gluten is livelier and offers greater resistance when the dough has just been kneaded. Finally, let it rise for 30 minutes.
Meanwhile, peel the onions, slice them thin and sauté them in a pan with a little olive oil, salt, pepper, and a clove of garlic if you wish. Allow them to cool down, and then sprinkle them on top of focaccia. Press your finger into the dough, creating on the entire surface deep imprints down to the bottom of the pan; cover focaccia with 3 tablespoons of olive oil mixed with 3 tablespoons of water and salt, and allow it plenty of time to double in size (this will require about one hour and a half). Bake at 390 for 25-30 minutes.

*I halved the quantity of the original Simili's recipe. The explanation, as usual, is copied from their book.

Grissini Stirati - Stretched Breadsticks

My momma always said, "Life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get".
(T. Hanks, Forrest Gump)

Let me add, life is also like a stretched breadstick, crunchy and soft, you never know what's in for you at the next bite.
Forget the chocolate; today breadsticks - whether stretched or chubby - are, for me, the real ode to life, my New Age metaphor, the smell and memory of everything that's good in the world.
That's all I have to say about that.


Stretched Breadsticks
for 30 breadsticks approx. 16" long

type O flour 500 gr
lukewarm water 250-280 gr
fresh yeast 15 gr
salt 8 gr (one full teaspoon)
olive oil 50 gr
barley malt 1 scant teaspoon
semolina flour, olive oil for brushing as needed

The peculiarity of these breadsticks, pulled strictly by hand, is that they're very irregular: the thinnest pieces cook quickly and become crunchy, while the thicker parts stay rather soft. Every bite is a surprise.
The recipe, which I'm copying literally, is not my own work, but it comes again from the Simili sisters' book, which one can never exploit enough.
May the bread be with me until yeast last.

Make a well in the middle, mix all ingredients and knead for 8-10 minutes. Dough should not be too soft.
Shape it into a loaf and make a rectangle about 4x12 inches out of it; keeping the shape as regular as possible, place it on a layer of semolina flour and coat the surface and the sides thoroughly with olive oil, and then sprinkle with more semolina.
Cover with a bowl and let it rise for 50-60 minutes. With a chef's knife or a large spatula, cut from the short side pieces of dough about 3/4" thick; without shaking it too much, grab each piece in the middle with your fingers, and stretch it out by pulling gently and moving your fingers towards the edges as the piece gets thinner.
Place the breadsticks on a baking sheet a little apart and adjust their thickness with the fingers to even it out. If you've used too much dough and the breadstick is too long, cut out the edge part, and bake the piece as it is because it can't be kneaded twice. Place immediately in the oven and bake at 390 for 18-20 minutes.



Hello. My name's Forrest, Forrest Gump. You want a chocolate grissino?

Soft Focaccia From Bari

"Focaccia in Bari is prepared by mixing wheat flour, salt, yeast and water. The result is a fairly liquid batter that is poured into a round baking pan, seasoned with olive oil, fresh tomatoes, and olives, and then baked in the oven. And because the mixture is liquid, pieces of tomato and olives sink into the dough, creating and filling small, soft holes, which become the best part of the focaccia. It is eaten warm but not hot, wrapped in a piece of paper, coming out of school, at the beach, for dinner or lunch (or as a snack or even at breakfast, but this is stuff for experts): fast, cheap and deliciously greasy.
Focaccia is one of the best things in the world. I refrain from saying that it is the best thing, to keep a minimum of perspective and to avoid the parochial ravings. There are the thin and crunchy ones, the tall and soft, those with the addition of potatoes or rosemary and many other variations. But the real focaccia is the one with tomatoes, olives, charred edges and nothing else. It should be paired, if possible, with a nice bottle of very cold beer. If you really want to enter the realm of high cuisine, the supreme pleasure is warm focaccia stuffed with thin slices of mortadella. Mortadella, when sliced thinly, coming into contact with the warm and fragrant crumb, releases a scent that makes the salivary glands go crazy.
Unlike many good things, which are often scarce and expensive, focaccia, in Bari, is found wherever there is a bakery. Which is everywhere, and everybody can buy it.
Focaccia, in Bari, is a metaphor for equality and one of the few symbols (among them, worthy of note are raw mussels) in which people from Bari recognize their collective identity.
A few hours earlier, Paolo had said that what he missed the most was the smell of focaccia".

(G. Carofiglio, Neither here nor anywhere else, one night in Bari)


Soft Focaccia from Bari
for two round pan of 10" in diameter*

The Starter
type O flour 80 gr
lukewarm water 60 gr
fresh yeast 1 g (a small piece)

The Dough
semolina (durum wheat) flour 1 kg
lukewarm water 800 gr
olive oil 30 gr
fresh yeast 15 gr
salt 20 gr, 4 tablespoons
cherry tomatoes, cut in half 1 kg
black olives, weighted with the pit 400 gr
olive oil for the pans, salt, oregano as needed

Getting hooked on focaccia's recipes - and the one from Bari in particular - is taking a dead end street. Tall, thin, wheat flour, semolina flour, with olives, without olives, with potatoes, without potatoes. Variations are endless; a quick googling is enough to understand that you wouldn't get out of it alive. Especially if you've never been in Bari, if the sea for you has always been only an interlude, and - even worse - if few years ago you moved to the other side of the world, where the Mediterranean and its aromas have become a metaphor of undefined contours.
For this reason, I've decided to rely upon an original recipe signed by the Simili sisters, which - besides being of secure outcome - also frees me of any liability. And there I rewrite it below, exactly as it is recited in the Bible in their book. Roll up your sleeves and knuckle down, because this focaccia, whether or not from Bari, really kicks ass!

The starter:
Mix the ingredients in a bowl, cover and let rise for 18-24 hours.
The dough:
In a large bowl, dissolve the yeast and the starter with half the water, and mix well; add a little flour, salt, and then begin to beat. Combine the remaining ingredients, alternating flour and water and continue beating vigorously until the mixture "boils" (that is, until you see large bubbles forming, that will break immediately) and the texture of the semolina flour is dissolved (about 10-15 minutes). The dough should be very soft. Cover the bowl and let it rise for 30 minutes.
Pour some oil in each of two baking pans, put your hands in covering them completely; grasp half of the dough and roll it while suspended, keeping it in one hand while the other collects the dough that's falling from the side, inserting it underneath in the middle, and transferring everything from one hand to another.
Don't worry if at first the gluten is relaxed and the dough comes down very quickly; after two or three manipulations the gluten wakes up allowing you to work more comfortably for two to three manipulations. Place this ball in the greased pan and repeat with the second half of the dough. Let it rise for about two hours, then cover the surface completely with tomatoes and pitted olives, taking care not to press down, otherwise you lose the rising gas and the focaccia will be less soft. To avoid this unfortunate circumstance, pinch a little dough by lifting it up, then put a piece of tomato or olive underneath. Sprinkle with salt [and oregano, I'd like to add ], drizzle with oil and bake at 450 for 25-30 minutes.
Remove from the pan few minutes after it's baked and place it on a baker's rack.

*I halved the quantity, obtaining one round pan only. I prepared the starter with the quantities described above, but then I used only half of it for the final dough, which I've made with half the quantities transcribed here.

Cornbread

And so goes another Thanksgiving weekend. And with extreme nonchalance I'll give you a recipe at the very end of the feast.
The thing is, in almost 10 years since I've moved to this foreign land, I've never dared to play around with the dishes of this tradition, also because my friend (the same one that years ago was spoiling us by pulling chocolate chip cookies out of the oven every other day), I was sayin', my friend, moved by compassion, always invites me to her T -Day, and I usually save myself bringing a crostata or a pumpkin pie, bought at the last minute at the French bakery close to my house (I know, these French know their stuff, we have to admit...).

This year, however, I've decided to be a much more polite guest, and with great pride I get down to work and try to contribute myself to the Mission Turkey. Virtually, and sensationally late, but the important thing is to participate, as someone once said... I almost want to commit myself, and promise that in the coming days weeks, when everyone will be thinking of heart-shaped cakes and pink ravioli for Valentine's Day, I will show up candid and innocent with some other dishes that usually never fail to appear on Thanksgiving table: sweet potatoes, stuffing, green beans, maybe even a pie (um... maybe...). And then, let's admit it, this way I can speed things up and in November 2011 I'll capitalize on it by linking wildly to the past :-)
But don't be fooled, you still won't see me struggling with the turkey (I mean THE Turkey, THE maximum weight, THE 20 Pounder, the perfect one, bloated, juicy, which, along with milkshakes, pompom girls and laundromats, has been in the settings of all our American dreams, from Happy Days to Fame), yes, THAT turkey... not yet. You must be joking, I can't do it. I may be a Girl In The Kitchen, but my name is not Martha Stewart. Preparing that turkey is like getting a green card, and I'm not ready, that's all.

But now no more talking, here is the first entry of my new category, Thanksgiving .
And to you all, thanks for being here.


Cornbread
for a cast-iron skillet of 8" diameter

cornmeal 140 gr.
all-purpose flour 125 gr.
butter 100 gr.
sugar 80 gr.
eggs 2
buttermilk 235 ml.
baking soda 1/2 teaspoon
salt 1 pinch

For the record, cornbread is popular all year round and not just during Thanksgiving, and it's very common all over the U.S., although it's more traditionally associated with the cuisine of the southern states. There it's usually made using only cornmeal flour, with no sugar nor baking powder, and it's cooked in a cast iron skillet, thoroughly greased with butter, oil or lard, and heated in the oven before the dough is poured in. The result is a very grainy "bread" that crumbles easily (so much so that it's often eaten with a spoon with the addition of milk or buttermilk), it's not too sweet and has a pretty crunchy brown crust.
In the northern states on the other hand, cornbread batter is more like that of muffins or other quick breads (such as pumpkin bread or banana bread), the bread is soft and sweet for the addition of wheat flour, baking soda and sugar, and it's baked in the oven like a regular cake.
What I'm offering you is the Yankee version, with the addition of wheat flour. I prefer it because crumbs that fall all over are not for me, but at the same time I like it just a little sweet and cooked in a cast iron pan. But nothing against increasing the sugar, varying the proportion of the two flours, and preparing it in a regular baking pan (if square, even better).

Preheat the oven to 350, thoroughly grease a cast iron skillet and keep it warm. In a bowl, mix cornmeal, all-purpose flour and salt, and set aside. Melt the butter in a pan and let cool slightly, then mix it with sugar. Add the eggs, stirring until they're blended, then mix in buttermilk and baking soda. At the end add the flour mix and stir just until you get a sufficiently homogeneous mixture. Pour the batter into the hot skillet (or in a regular baking pan previously greased) and bake at 350 for about 30 or 40 minutes.

Hide Bread

I made up my mind. My next 42 km will be in Big Sur. I write it here because that way I feel somewhat forced to keep the promise and I avoid getting strange ideas, like backing out at the very last minute. Some say it's one of the most beautiful marathons in the U.S., not as popular as New York or Boston, but certainly more spectacular for the course that runs along one of the most gorgeous stretches of the whole Pacific coast.

What does this have to do with the girl in the kitchen, you may ask? It's just that while thinking about Big Sur, I remembered this recipe, that I marked a while back with the usual yellow post-it so that I could try it as soon as possible. I found it in a beautiful book, The Big Sur Bakery Cookbook, one of those recommended by The Big Brother Amazon that all of a sudden you feel like you absolutely have to own.
It's sort of a culinary diary of this small restaurant/cafe', hidden behind a gas station along Highway 1. The tale of four friends who decide to leave the glamorous yet impossible scene of Los Angeles in order to pursue their dream in the middle of nature. With all its difficulties, like electricity that can be gone for days when the only power line connecting Big Sur to Carmel decides to break down, the suffocating feeling that hits at times when you live in a community of few hundreds people, or the financial risk of running a business that is largely based on tourism.

As usual, the first recipe that catched my attention is that of a bread, even if in this case it's not a leavening one, but rather a cross between Irish soda bread and English muffins (note to my Italian friends: mind you, English muffins are totally different than muffins, and they are more similar to English scones, which in turn are not to be confused with American scones...how confusing...I should stop here, otherwise this parenthesis will break into a new post).
In short, I warn you, these unusual rolls, quintessence of zen and healthy California, are not for everybody. What I mean is that they are not suited for the classic pane e salame, the crust is hard and crunchy and their crumb very dense and full of seeds that pleasantly creak under your teeth. They absolutely need to be sliced in half and toasted before eating, just like English muffins (which are not like muffins!!), and they are the best at breakfast, spread with jam and paired with a large, bottomless cup of coffee.
Now I know for sure. Next stop, Big Sur.


Hide Bread
for approximately 8 rolls>

all-purpose flour 2 and 1/2 cups (375 gr)
flax seeds 1/4 cup (50 gr.)
sesame seeds 1/4 cup (40 gr.)
oat bran 1 cup (120 gr.)
sunflower seeds 1/8 cup (25 gr.)
millet, amaranth, quinoa or poppy seeds, or a combination of any of these 1/4 cup (50 gr.)
salt 1/4 teaspoon
baking soda 1/2 teaspoon
beer 1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon (60 ml.)
buttermilk, milk or water 1 and 1/4 cup (350 ml.)

I divided the recipe in half, the original amount is for 15 rolls of approximately 4 inches in diameter.
In a large bowl, combine all dry ingredients and stir well. Make a well in the middle, and add beer and buttermilk (or milk and/or water). Mix with your hand or using a wooden spoon until all ingredients are blended together and form a thick and wet batter. Slightly sprinkle the surface with flour and turn the batter on the work surface. Roll it into a log of approximately 2 inches in diameter, then cut it in slices about 1 1/2 inches thick. Pat them down with your hands and place them on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake at 375 for about 45 minutes, until the surface turns golden brown. Let them cool completely. Before serving, remember to slice the rolls in half and toast them well.

No-Knead Walnut Bread

- Sieti pronti...? Sieti pronti?
- Bene, anch'io.
- Sieti gia' caldi?
- Beeene, anch'io.
- Are you ready...? E allora, andiamo!
(Madonna L.V. Ciccone, Concert in Turin, September 4th, 1987)


AH-LEEEE-OH-OH, AH-LEEEE-OH-OH...
By universal demand, here comes again, the No-Knead Bread. And it arrives together with lots and lots of walnuts. Don't pull your hair, don't throw stuff on the stage, don't push, please. Instead, take a little flour, salt, water, and add walnuts to taste. Then sit back, relax, and be patient.
The recipe - obviously - comes once more from Jim Lahey and his My Bread, The Revolutionary No-Work, No-Knead Method, but this time I made some adjustments. The original recipe, as from the book, is the Laheyian version of Tuscan Pan co' Santi, made with walnuts, raisins, cinnamon and freshly ground black pepper. I simply took out raisins and cinnamon and add more walnuts.
So, Are you ready? Let's go!!


No-Knead Walnut Bread

bread flour 450 gr.
walnuts 120 gr.
salt 8 gr.
instant dry yeast 2 gr.
cool water (55-65 degrees F) 350 gr.
freshly ground black pepper to taste

In a bowl, mix flour, chopped walnuts, salt, yeast and a sprinkle of freshly ground black pepper. Add water and mix by hand or with a wooden spoon just until ingredients come together to form a slightly wet ball (you only need about 30 seconds). Cover with plastic wrap and let the dough rest at room temperature until it doubles and the surface is covered with bubbles (18 hours or more). This time, since my so-called-kitchen has all of a sudden become a walk-in refrigerator, I had to wait 25 hours before the dough was ready, so much for all my plans. The length of the first rise depends on the room temperature; when the surface is all covered with bubbles, the dough is ready.
Generously dust the work surface with flour. Place the dough on top, shape it into a ball and fold it in thirds. Place a kitchen towel on the work surface, dust it with wheat bran or flour and place the bread on top of it, seam side down.
If the dough is too wet, dust it with more flour or wheat bran. Fold the towel over it and let it rise one or two more hours. It should double. The dough is ready when, poking it with one finger, it holds the impression without springing back. I had to leave it there for 3 hours, again because of the polar temperature of my castle.
About half hour before the end of the second rise, preheat the oven to 475 degrees with a heavy pot inside: it should be super hot when you're ready to bake. Using the towel to help, quickly invert the dough into the pan, with the seam side up, cover with the lid and place it in the oven. Bake for 30 minutes, then remove the lid and bake another 15-30 minutes until the crust turns dark brown and crunchy. Let it cool on a rack before slicing it.




I wanna see everybody dancing... Balli con me, cantate con me...
You can dance, you can dance if you want to. Get into the groove!
You can dance, you can dance if you want to. And you can dance!
For inspiration. Are you ready? Come on! [...]
Get up on your feet. Yeah step to the beat. Boy what will it be.

(Madonna L.V. Ciccone, Into The Groove, Concert in Turin, September 4th, 1987)

Tortillas (Project Panettone: Step 1)

I'd like to clear few things. I really, really love to have a finger in the pie, so to speak, get everything dirty with flour and watch the simplest combination of ingredients take shape. Being it for piadine (Italian flat brad), brioches or Tuscan bread, every dough that needs to be banged and turned over with no mercy somehow gives me deep satisfaction...

It's actually searching for the secret of Pizza Margherita that I ended up like this, writing about yeasts and jams instead of joining my coworkers for Happy Hour or watching American Idol on TV. One day I happened to ask Google if he knew something about pizza, and there you go, a whole world of forums, blogs and Cookaround opened up and didn't give me respite ever since.

Yet, as much as I enjoy sinking my hands into sticky and rebel masses, and smelling the scent of flour spreading in the air, sometimes laziness prevails and the option I'd rather buy it already made sounds much more appealing than a biceps workout. Maybe one day I'll have my own Kitchen Aid, a pink one, and maybe I'll have one, or even two work boards wider than 7 inches, and then you'll see me baking pizzas for the whole building.
While waiting for that happy day, I'd rather take it easy and do one step at a time, satisfying the gluten mania with less laborious projects. I've already tried the No-Knead Bread and the Irish No-Effort Bread, and I have a feeling that one day there'll be time also for Paoletta's No-Knead Pizza and for Ornella's No-Knead Brioches. But since today I feel particularly optimistic, I commit myself and I tell you that at this pace, walking up a leavening road that goes through piadine, popovers and half-hour breads, one day I will too - maybe - get to Him, the Supreme, the Impregnable, the Proud Panettone, ambition and dread of every foodblogger.

Meanwhile I started training with flour tortillas, the Mexican piadinas, so to speak. Mmmm... tortilla is very flat indeed, and I think I'll have to go a long way. OK, maybe not this Christmas, but one day... Panettone...I will too... And while drafting the stages of my route, I'll take a tortilla and spread it with avocado.


Flour Tortillias
for 9 tortillas

flour 300 gr.
salt 1 teaspoon
baking powder 2 teaspoons
vegetable oil 2 tablespoons
milk approximately 180 gr.

Heat milk in a small saucepan until warm. Mix flour with salt and baking powder. Add oil and mix well (I used a mild tasting extra-virgin olive oil). Gradually add milk and start kneading. Use only the amount of milk necessary to obtain a smooth, non-sticky dough. If needed, add more milk or adjust with more flour.
Work the dough for 5 or 6 minutes and then let it rest for about 10 minutes, covered with a kitchen towel. Divide it in small balls of about 50 gr. each. Slightly dust the work surface with flour and using a rolling pin flatten each ball into a thin round of approximately 6 inches diameter. If needed, pair the edges with a knife to obtain rounder tortillas.
Heat a cast iron pan and cook each tortilla about 30 seconds per side, turning it with a spatula and deflating any bubble that should develop. Tortillas can be frozen, wrapped in plastic. They should be served warm, filled with meat and/or cheese, hot Mexican salsa and avocado. If you like, you can also add shredded green cabbage, sour cream, grilled chicken or fish instead of beef.

Note (polemical): real tortillas should be made with lard, but finding it is really impossible. Or rather, you can easily find it only in Mexican markets and produce stores, but stay away from it... it resembles glycerin and it's full of hydrogenated fat, bleaching and deodorizing agents that make it last even YEARS outside the fridge. There is nothing else out there, because lard in North America has been stigmatized long time ago as too fattening and bad for your health. Today, if you tell someone that you're looking for lard, and that you need it to make tortillas or a nice and fragrant pie crust, they'll point the finger at you like you were a social order subverter. Meanwhile those supermarkets that are full of strange margarine, bleached fruit and food whose ingredients remind you more of a chemical formula like the ones you studied in high school, those not, they don't hurt anybody, and they're actually very generously open 24/7. To the delight of those who avoid lard like Satana, but have no problems gorging themselves on corn syrup.
Please forgive my ranting.