Bosc pear + mascarpone puff pastry tart.

The olllllld "Bosc & Masc," am I right.  

I really love pears. Especially Bosc pears -- perfect for baking, insanely floral and off-sweet, lovely to behold in their understated, kraft-like skins.

And this tart couldn't be easier prepare, or more celebratory of the Bosc's simple beauty. It's comprised of five ingredients, it takes like 30 minutes to make, and it's tellement jolie laide -- basically, it's the "I woke up like this" of food.

I like to complement the floral quality of the Bosc with equally floral honey; wildflower is my fave, followed by clover. But you could go ban-nay-nay and use orange blossom honey instead.

Or, if you're feeling sassy, use truffle honey, and sub some fresh nutmeg + a little pink salt for the five spice. Kabloom < your mind lol not sorry.

yours,
aa

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Bosc Pear + Mascarpone Puff Pastry Tart

>> Prep time: 10 minutes
>> Cook time: 15 to 20 minutes
>> Serves 6 to 8

Recommended pairing: Coffee for breakfast, cava or a beautiful, round, rich Sauternes for dessert

1 sheet frozen puff pastry (I get mine at Trader Joe's!)
1 Bosc pear, nearly ripe
6 oz. mascarpone
1 to 2 tsp wildflower or other floral honey (like clover or orange blossom, or truffle) 
A pinch of five spice (sub fresh-ground nutmeg + pink salt if using truffle honey)

Preheat oven to 425F and line a baking sheet with parchment.

While your oven is preheating, slice the pear thinly, like 1/4" if you can. Once your oven is heated, roll out your puff pastry onto the parchment. Working quickly, spread the mascarpone over the pastry, leaving ~1" clearance around the edges. Next, line up your lil pear slices, overlapping slightly if you must, but generally giving every slice her own personal space. 

Drizzle the entire tart with honey, 1 tsp if you're into less-sweet, 2 tsp if you want the full floral-sweetness. Sprinkle your five spice over the the pears. 

Bake 15 to 20 minutes, or until the pastry around the edge is puffed and golden, the mascarpone is bubbling, and the pears have softened. 

Now eat it!

ps. If you don't have Bosc pears, you can use d'Anjou or even Bartlett, so long as they're a few days from ripe -- because Bosc are a naturally denser pear, they stand up well to baking; d'Anjou and Bartlett are much juicier, so if they're too ripe, they can wilt your pastry while it's cooking. Fair warning. 

Toasty Amatriciana estiva, or, That's one saucy dish.

But first, some history. Skip if you think history is for goofuses.  

Back in 18 BCE the Roman emperor Augustus (nee Octavian) created the Feriae Augusti, or Festivals of Augustus, a series of feasts, fetes, and donkey races that took place mid-August. He did this for a few reasons:

a) to celebrate himself, because he was a megalomaniac;
b) to link together a few existing Roman holidays into an extended, multi-day holiday season that was all about him (see first point); and
c) to give his people a break from the harvest, id est, give them a reason to love their emperor even more (see first, second points)

Cut to today, when the FAs have morphed into Ferragosto, a Labor Day-style long weekend celebrated in Italy on August 15, alongside the Catholic feast in honor of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary.  

This year, I scheduled a small dinner party for August 15, so the theme was a total gimme, as was a tomato-forward pasta dish -- like Amatriciana, a tomato/guanciale/pecorino sauce that's big, bold, and very Italian.

I used Katie Parla & Kristina Gill's recipe for Amatriciana Estiva ("Summer Amatriciana") as a springboard for building a rich, savory tomato sauce from fresh heirloom cherry tomatoes. I served it on bombolotti, but this sauce could work equally well on long pasta (like spaghetti or tagliatelle), pizza, or even bruschetta. 

I like my tomato sauce spicy, so I added chili flakes, plus hot & spicy oregano from my garden. This oregano is typically used in Mexican dishes, but I figured what the hell, life's too short to silo my oreganos. In addition, I added ground fennel and dry white wine; I wanted to balance the intensity of the tomatoes and pork with some herbal notes and light acidity.

As for the requisite guanciale: I couldn't source any, so I used pancetta, which mimics the fat if not the flavor. And speaking of fat, I dispensed with olive oil (((SCANDAL!!))) and used the drippings from a whole roasted chicken -- again, going for very rich, very roasty-toasty tomato flavor. 

Pro-tip: Simmer this sauce in a big, well-seasoned cast iron skillet to bring out all that earthy sweetness in your tomatoes. 

Mangia!

yours,
aa

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Toasty Amatricana Estiva Sauce

Inspired by Katie Parla & Kristina Gill's Amatriciana Estiva, from Tasting Rome: Fresh Flavors and Forgotten Recipes from an Ancient City, 2016

>> Prep time: 10 minutes
>> Cook time: 45 to 65 minutes
>> Makes approx. 4 cups (equivalent to 4 to 6 servings of pasta, 2 small pizza pies, or 2 dozen bruschetta)

Recommended pairing: CHIANTI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

1 ½ tbsp fresh chicken drippings
4 oz. pancetta
4 big cloves garlic, smashed and roughly chopped
2 ½ to 3 pints cherry tomatoes (I used a variety of heirlooms for their sweetness) 
1 tbsp chili flake
2 tsp ground fennel
¼ c. dry white wine
¼ c. fresh oregano leaves
Big handful Italian parsley, roughly chopped (about 1 c.)
Salt & black pepper to taste
Your chosen sauce vehicle, e.g., pasta, pizza dough, bruschetta
Fresh Italian parsley leaves & fresh shaved parmesan, for garnishing your saucy dish

Heat chicken drippings in a 12-inch cast iron skillet over medium heat until shiny. Reduce heat to med-low and add pancetta. Let the fat render, 8 to 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Keep an eye on your pancetta -- if it's starting to burn, lower your heat. You want crispy little meaty bites, not pebbles of charcoal. 

As your pancetta renders, halve all your tomatoes. This will take a while. 

Once the pancetta is ready -- lots of yummy fats in the pan, studded with crunchy mini-meats -- add the garlic. Stir until the garlic is golden and fragrant, ~3 minutes.

Return heat to medium and add the halved tomatoes and chili flake. Season with salt & pepper to taste. Let the tomatoes simmer, stirring occasionally, until most of them have lost their shape, about 15 minutes.

Add the white wine and simmer 5 minutes more, stirring frequently. Add the oregano and parsley and continue to stir, about 2 minutes, until the greens are wilty and well incorporated.

At this point, you can serve via your selected sauce-delivery system (pasta, pizza, bruschetta), or reduce the heat to low and let your sauce bubble and thicken for another 10 to 15 minutes. As the sauce simmers, it'll reduce in volume and expand in flavor; the tomatoes will totally lose shape and get extra-toasty and extra- yummy. Your sauce, your call. 

Heirlooms.

Estate sales evoke in me a strange alloy -- the thrill of hunting through odd junk, mixed with what I can only call melancholy as I examine the castaways of a life, me the voyeur, they the divested dead. 

I can't help myself, I've haunted thrift shops and swap meets for centuries, I'll die and ghost around them I'm sure, ringing porcelain bells. Tiny House is flush with curious old effects, plates with hairline fractures & black fork-marks, scruffy furniture my Dad painted models on when he was 9, weird ceramic cat statuary, probably too much of it, but propriety is overrated. 

In a way, I'm a conservationist. I'm a collector, not so much of goods but of mythologies, stories for all the unstoried things. Like a cake stand, and a woman on her wedding day in 1892, it was November, a Wednesday, she wore a necklace of jet, she married a banker even though she wasn't in love, she wanted to visit Morocco instead, they served lavender tea and an allspice cake decorated with turtledoves on that cake stand, pressed by Adams & Co. out of Pittsburgh, stamped with every nuptial superstition: horseshoes, anchors, prayer mats, wheat. 

A cake stand, which I bought for $5 from a woman named Rae, whose mother's estate had been carefully arrayed on rows of tables in an old boxing gym, and who had only seen this cake stand once before, when her mother's mother died and left it behind. 

Do you bake? she asked me. 

I said I did. 

My mother was a baker, too. Her eyes glazed a little as she folded the bill into her pocket and turned to sell something else.

Creamy avocado + summer pea pasta salad.

"Summer was everything good to eat."

Scout Finch, To Kill a Mockingbird

We're a week past the Solstice here in Washington, and while the days are in fact getting shorter, it's still light from 5am to 10pm, and it's sunny and warm and gorgeous, and thus I conclude IT IS SUMMERTIME. #Poirot

And what's better in summertime than seasonal veggies (in this case, shelling peas, which fade fast but are abundant and delicious for about 3 weeks) in creamy, bright, citrusy pasta salad? Yumtown. And, if you omit the parm, it's vegan!

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyy summer 

yours,
aa

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Creamy Avocado + Summer Pea Pasta Salad

>> Prep time: 20 minutes
>> Chill time (optional): 2 hours
>> Serves 6 to 8

Recommended pairing: I drank a 100% piquepoul with this salad and it was doooooope. Being totally new to this varietal, I was pleased with the ancient grape's acidity, and the intense minerality, which proved an excellent counterpoint to the creaminess and lite spice of the salad. Highly complementary, 10/10, would pair again.

14 oz. fresh pasta (small, textured pasta is best -- think fusilli or farfalle)
1 lb. shelling peas (about 1 ½ c. when shelled)
1 large, very ripe avocado, smashed smooth
3 tbsp olive oil
1 ½ tbsp red wine vinegar (more if you like the piquancy)
Juice from half a large lemon
2 tbsp pink peppercorns, crushed
Giant handful Italian parsley, chopped
Salt & black pepper to taste
Fresh parmesan (optional, for grating)

Bring 4 quarts of salted water to a boil. SALTED WATER, people. As hallowed chef Alex Guarnaschelli once said, Your pasta water should taste like the ocean.

While your water is heating up, shell your peas into a large bowl. Once the water is bubbling, add your pasta. Cook for ~3 minutes, then add the peas and cook for ~2 minutes more, or until pasta is al dente and the peas are bright green. Strain pasta and peas into your big bowl. 

Add your smashed avocado, your olive oil, and some salt and black pepper to taste. With a big wooden spoon, stir the avo and oil into your pasta and peas. You want to coat the p+p with the avocado and olive oil -- it's your creamy sauce! 

Once combined, stir in the remaining ingredients. Season again as needed. Serve warm, or chill for 2 hours (up to 4) and serve cold. Before serving, though, top with freshly grated parm.

ps. For best color, serve day-of. Your avocados will oxidize overnight, so next-day salad will look kinda brownish. It's still delish, but fyi. 

Mom's Christmas fudge.

Fudge is a goddamn Christmas miracle, and my mom's Christmas fudge is the most miraculous of all.

She's been making it for like 40 years, maybe longer, and it is THE BEST. It is neither sandy, like some fudge, nor is it melty, like other fudge. It has the perfect bite -- slightly firm on the outside, heavenly soft on the inside. For me, my mom's fudge *is* Christmas.

Her signature fudge is studded with mini marshmallows, and it is get-out-of-town good, especially on Christmas morning, after she makes Nest Eggs for the family, but before we open our stockings, which have our names knitted into them and typically contain Reese's peanut butter trees and at least one pocket flashlight.

>> AND SINCE IT'S HOLIDAY TIME <<

I'm giving you TWO SPECIAL XMAS FUDGE RECIPES. Using Mom's method as a base, I made my own signature fudge: a cinnamon-y, hot pepper-y variety, reminiscent of Mexican hot chocolate. (And btw is that cutest makeshift double-boiler you've ever seen? Oh I just know it is.)

Happy holidays, sweet teeth!

yours,
aa

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Mom's Mini Marshmallow Fudge

Prep time: 15 minutes
Chill time: 2 hours
Makes 1 8"x8" dish
Recommended pairing: You may think me insane, but have this with hot chocolate. Or Irish coffee.

3 c. (18oz) semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 14-oz. can sweetened condensed milk
Dash of salt (~¼ tsp, or, if you're my mom 3 shakes of your salt shaker)
2 tbsp unsalted butter
1 ½ tsp vanilla extract (Mom: "It has to be the good stuff.")
2 c. mini marshmallows

Line an 8"x8" baking dish with two sheets of tinfoil, crossed at the middle, with about 4" excess hanging over each side. This excess foil will help you turn out the fudge when it's ready, so don't skip this step. Also, to quote my mother, "Some people tell you to use wax paper. IT'S A LIE. Wax paper will meld to the bottom of the fudge. Don't do it, ever."

Heat chocolate chips in a heavy-bottomed set to the low end of medium. Stir constantly, "because you don't want seized-up chocolate. That's never a good thing." When your chocolate is nearly melted, add sweetened condensed milk and stir to combine. Follow with the salt, then the butter. Once everything is melted and well-combined, remove from heat. Add vanilla and stir to combine. Fold in marshmallows. 

Pour into your foil-lined baking dish. Chill uncovered in the refrigerator, at least 2 hours. Remove from fridge. Using tinfoil handles, remove from baking dish. Place a cutting board directly on top of fudge and turn upside down. Peel off foil and slice into 2"x2" squares. Wrap in festive cellophane and give to your friends, like my mom. Or just eat it all, like me.

Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator. Will keep peak flavor for ~1 week. After that, the flavor and texture start to degrade slightly, but it's still damn tasty.

Mom's ps. If you don't like marshmallows, use walnuts. Just eliminate the butter and stir in 1 c. of chopped walnuts just before you remove from heat. 

Mom's pps. If you don't like marshmallows or walnuts, don't use either. Just eliminate the butter. 

Mom's ppps. You can use other chips, too, like white or dark chocolate, peanut butter, or cinnamon (which she has never done, but it seems reasonable).

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Bittersweet + Spicy Fudge

Prep time: 15 minutes
Chill time: 2 hours
Makes 1 8"x8" dish
Recommended pairing: Seriously, HOT CHOCOLATE. With mezcal.

1 c. semi-sweet chocolate chips
2 c. bittersweet chocolate chips
1 14-oz. can sweetened condensed milk
Dash of salt (~¼ tsp)
1 ½ tsp vanilla extract (I agree with Mom: "It has to be the good stuff.")
2 tsp cinnamon
½ to ¾ tsp ground cayenne* or ¼ tsp ground African bird pepper**
Pink peppercorns & coarse sea salt for sprinkling

Prep your dish like Mom does: Line an 8"x8" baking dish with two sheets of tinfoil, crossed at the middle, with about 4" excess hanging over each side. 

In a heatproof bowl set over a pot of simmering water, melt chocolate chips. Stir frequently to help it along. When your chocolate is nearly melted, add sweetened condensed milk and stir to combine. Follow suit with the dash of salt, cinnamon, and pepper. Once everything is melted and well-combined, remove from heat. Add vanilla and stir to combine. 

Pour into your foil-lined baking dish. Sprinkle with coarse sea salt and pink peppercorns. Chill uncovered in the refrigerator, at least 2 hours.

Remove from fridge. Using tinfoil handles, remove from baking dish. Place a cutting board directly on top of fudge and turn upside down. Peel off foil and slice into 2"x2" squares. Store in an airtight container in the fridge. Will keep peak flavor for ~1 week. 

*If you like a little more spice, stir in ¾ tsp of cayenne, or go even wilder with 1 tsp. 

**African bird pepper is hot, y'all. I love love love spicy food, but this stuff doesn't mess around, cf. cayenne ranks between 30,000 and 50,000 on the Scoville scale, and African bird pepper ranks at 150,000+. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to hot stuff. 

Nest eggs are the best eggs.

At Christmastime, some families have egg nog. Mine has nest eggs.

My mom makes Nest Eggs for the family on Christmas morning every year, so they occupy a very special place in my tiny chef's heart.

This down-home delicacy goes by the noms du guerre "Eggs in a Nest" and "Toad in a Hole," the first of which is unnecessarily prolix, and the second of which is something I'd never want to eat, ever, so out of respect for my mother, linguistic efficiency, and, let's be honest, simple propriety, we shall call them Nest Eggs.

Like Lemon Curd Mousse and RTTH on Toast, Nest Eggs are foolproof. They are simply over-easy eggs nestled in grilled bread, but they have a super cute name and that au courant rustic-chic look, too. 

You can use any bread and any egg for this dish, e.g., my mom uses whole wheat bread and chicken eggs, and I use brioche and duck eggs (dear lord, I'm a lush). The point is that you're grilling bread and eggs simultaneously, so choose a bread that browns at about the same rate as your egg cooks. Like, don't use thick-sliced pumpernickel and a quail egg -- you get me? 

Kick your Nesties up a notch with grated cheddar and pepper jelly; blue cheese and pickled nectarines; or Apple Campfires and a drizzle of Hickory Smoked Maple Syrup (both an absolute snap to prepare).

Or eat them like Mom makes, unadorned and awesome -- wheat, chicken eggs, salt, pepper -- on Xmas morning, alongside a giant mug of coffee, while your Dad gives you and Mom the daily-paper Super Quiz, your older brother sleeps in, and White Christmas plays on the tv. 

yours,
aa

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"Just Ducky" Nest Eggs
with Hickory Smoked Maple Syrup + Apple Campfires

Prep time: 5 minutes
Cook time: 10 minutes
Makes 2 nests
Recommended pairing: Coffeeeeeeeeeeee

For the nests
2 duck eggs
2 slices brioche
1 ½ tbsp salted butter
Salt & pepper to taste

For the syrup + campfires
¼ c. maple syrup
2 to 3 drops hickory liquid smoke, depending on how smoky you like it
¼ c. Granny Smith or other tart green apple, julienned
1 tsp fresh-squeezed orange juice
Salt to taste

Heat butter in a 10" cast iron skillet over low heat. While butter is heating, prepare your syrup by whisking hickory liquid smoke into maple syrup. Set aside.

Drizzle your julienned apples with orange juice and add a tiny pinch of salt. Stir to coat and set aside. 

Using a 2" biscuit cutter, cut a hole in the center of each slice of bread. (Or just tear it. We're not fussy.) When butter foams, place bread in the skillet. Crack an egg into each hole, season with salt and pepper, and let it brown, 2 ½ to 3 minutes. Using a flat spatula, flip each slice and brown for another 2 ½ to 3 minutes, or until the yolks have reached your desired consistency. 

Plate your nests. Build a mini apple campfire on each nest, as pictured above, leaning your apples against one another as though you were a Girl Scout vying for that sweet Camping Skills merit badge. Drizzle with syrup. Feast!

ps. If you're adding cheese to your nests, sprinkle it on top in the last 1 to 2 minutes of cook time so it has a chance to melt. Ditto pepper jelly.

pps. Note that apple campfires would work with any of the flavor combos above, mainly because apple campfires are, quite frankly, too legit to quit.