Bridget Jones’s Diary by Helen Fielding

I suppose this book would fall under the category “chick-lit” which I generally loathe. However, I read Bridget Jones’s Diary years ago and remember laughing so hard I had tears in my eyes, and the film version with Renee Zellwegger, was similarly hilarious and heart-felt. It’s still as funny today and I found myself snickering yet again as I reread it last week. I suppose many of us who were singletons in our mid-30s could definitely relate to many of the themes in this book – wanting to find a relationship, parental issues, being stuck between two different lovers, trying to find the right job – but for me, the underlying theme that stood out to me then and now was the concept of loving yourself and finding someone who was going to love you just as you were, warts and imperfections and cellulite and all.

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We live in a society that idolizes appearance. We all want to look our best. These two elements combined have created a sense that if we don’t look homogenized, have long straight hair, have the perfect relationship, or be a size 6, that we are not worthy, not valuable, not lovable, not NORMAL. I think why this book resonates is because it shows that when you do kill yourself to look/be “normal” or all those catchphrases that society tells us we must adhere to, oftentimes we end up looking worse, feeling worse, not being true to ourselves. When we accept our faults and our quirky unique weirdness is when we are our true selves and when we are able and open to loving ourselves.

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The book, in a nutshell, is the adventures of Bridget Jones, 30-something, still single, and her quest for the perfect job, perfect weight, and perfect man. What makes it so hilariously funny is that she is about as far from perfect as you can get – in other words, she is just like us. She is funny as fuck, totally relateable as she goes from one disaster to another, constantly trying to stop smoking, quit drinking, drop pounds, etc.

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The film version is excellent, too, and actually I prefer her mother in the movie. Bridget’s mom in the book is a horrendous human being. She isn’t even funny. In the film, Gemma Jones plays her with a ditzy sympathetic self-centeredness, but the book Mrs. Jones is just a selfish, self-centered nightmare who really doesn’t seem to care about anyone other than herself. She was quite an unpleasant character. Other than that, the book was most amusing.

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So of course Bridget is a walking disaster in the kitchen, which lends itself to possibly the funniest scene in the book, when she decides to cook herself and her friends a lovely birthday dinner. Of course, being Bridget Jones, it gets completely fucked up, and made even more hilarious by the fact that Mark Darcy shows up at her house as she is attempting her culinary masterpiece.

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7 p.m. Just got home. Right. Calm, calm. Inner poise. Soup will be absolutely fine. Will simply cook and purée vegetables as instructed and then – to give concentration of flavor – rinse blue jelly off chicken carcasses and boil them up with cream in the soup.

8:30 p.m. All going marvelously. Guests are all in living room. Mark Darcy is being v. nice and brought champagne and a box of Belgian chocolates. Have not done main course yet apart from fondant potatoes but sure will be v. quick. Anyway, soup is first.

8:35 p.m. Oh my God. Just took lid off casserole to remove carcasses. Soup is bright blue.
….
Horror-struck, took mouthful myself. It was, as he said marmalade. Realize after all effort and expense have served my guests:
Blue soup
Omelette
Marmalade

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Now, making an actual blue soup would be totally fun but I can’t imagine it would taste very good. So I decided to go another route and incorporate blue cheese into a spinach soup, and it was a most inspired decision, if I do say so myself.

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INGREDIENTS
5 ounces fresh baby spinach, preferably organic
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
2-3 cloves of garlic
1 cup half and half (or full-fat milk)
2 cups chicken stock
3/4 cup white wine
1-2 tablespoons chicken bouillon paste
Salt and pepper to taste
1 cup blue cheese crumbles

METHOD
Chop up the spinach finely and set aside.

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Heat the olive oil in a skillet and add the flour to brown it, stirring constantly so it doesn’t burn.

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Add the milk and keep whisking until the mixture thickens. You don’t want lumps so stirring continually is a good thing, and better yet, if you do it with a glass of wine in hand, you’ll feel confident and competent in the kitchen, just like Bridget Jones!

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Add the spinach, garlic cloves and salt and pepper, and stir.

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Add in the chicken broth, the chicken bouillon paste and the white wine, cover, and let simmer about 25-30 minutes.

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Tumble in the blue cheese crumbles and let melt into the hot soup.

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Decant into bowls and serve with more wine, in true Bridget Jones fashion. So good, rich and warming and decadent. Yum!

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The Vacationers by Emma Straub

This book was previously blogged about by a fellow food blogger, Cara Nicoletti, whose page Yummy Books was one of the inspirations for starting my own food and book blog. The Vacationers is about a family’s secrets and dysfunctions that come out over two weeks when they are vacationing in their house in Mallorca. I know, I know, it all sounds very dramatic and mysterious, but ultimately, it’s not.

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Though I always try to give every book a fair shake, I have to say that this one was  boring. Franny and Jim, the two main characters/couple/parents, are celebrating their 35th anniversary during the vacation, their daughter Sylvia just finished high school and hates her family (wow, big surprise, a teenager hating her family), the token gay couple, and the son and his beautiful girlfriend that everyone hates. Pretty cardboard and standard characters – the wealthy family, the cheating husband, the unhappy wife planning to leave the marriage, the spoiled kids – to whom I had a very hard time finding any point of relating.

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I did like Franny’s foodie-ness (yes, that’s a word, I just invented it) and her love of cooking to work out her irritations and frustrations through her culinary adventures. Kind of like me! It’s nicely written, don’t get me wrong. The descriptions of the beach, the ocean, the house, the food………all are beautiful and lyrical. But the characters really aren’t likable, other than Carmen (the girlfriend everyone loves to despise), and overall, it just didn’t grab me and stay with me, though this food passage made me start salivating a little bit.

 Franny and the boys were making dinner – bacalao on toast, shrimp in a garlicky sauce, wilted greens. Tapas at home.

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I didn’t have the wherewithal to soak bacalao for 24 hours before putting it onto toast, good as that sounded. However, some garlicky shrimp with tomatoes and wilted spinach  sounded very doable, simple, and tasty. I had a packet of tortellini that needed to be used, and so I combined them, thus evoking a summer’s evening overlooking the crashing ocean waves.

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INGREDIENTS
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 dozen grape tomatoes, halved
10 cloves of garlic, thinly slivered
1 small shallot, thinly slivered
1/2 cup white wine
1/2 cup lemon juice
2 tablespoons red pepper flakes
1 lb partially thawed shrimp, tail on
4 cups fresh spinach
1 packet cheese tortellini

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METHOD
Boil a large potful of water, add a generous handful of sea salt, and cook the tortellini for about 5-7 minutes. Test it to ensure it is al dente, and save a cupful of the cooking water.

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In a large frying pan, heat the olive oil and gently cook the grape tomatoes, garlic and shallot for about 10 minutes.

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Splash in the white wine, the lemon juice, and the red pepper flakes, and cook together another couple of minutes. Pour in a little bit of the pasta cooking water to help thicken the sauce and give some structure.

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Add the spinach, stir, and cover again, cooking for about 10 minutes so that it wilts.

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Add the shrimp to the mixture, cover and leave to cook for 5-10 minutes, checking frequently so the shrimp doesn’t overcook. When they are pink and plump, everything is ready.

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Toss in the cooked tortellini, stir and cook another couple of minutes, so all the flavors are mixed and mingled. Then serve and eat with happiness. Delicious, just like a day at the beach!

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Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier

Thanks to TB for the photography.

Do you know what it’s like to read a book and have it haunt you, like a whisper or the faint hint of perfume in an empty room? I’ve always been possessed by the gorgeous Gothic-ness of Rebecca, which has mystery, ghosts, passionate love and a big, haunted house. And then of course, the most intriguing opening line………”Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley again.”

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I admit, rather shamefacedly, to having reread this on Audible, listening as I  cooked. It’s hard sometimes to put everything down and read a book with pages, as pleasurable as that is. In fact, I recently had a conversation with a very dear friend called Richard, about what constitutes pleasure in life. We both agreed that food, sex, wine, and music are all true pleasures, but I added two more – turning the pages of a wonderful book, and coming to really fantastic part in a book. You can’t beat any of those, but as with everything in life, you have to find the time, or a way to combine them. Hence, cooking with Audible.

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Anyway, the gist of this book is thus: a young woman meets the handsome, debonair and rather gloomy Max de Winter in the south of France, falls in love with him, and he whisks her off to a very quick marriage and honeymoon, before taking her home to his gothic mansion by the sea, called Manderley. Can you see why I fell in love with this book?

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Max’s first wife, Rebecca, had drowned a few years earlier, and the house is ghostly with her presence. Her initials are on everything, her clothes are still in the house, her perfume hangs in the air, and perhaps worst of all, her spirit still seems to haunt the living, particularly Mrs. Danvers, the housekeeper who adored Rebecca.

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I was fortunate enough to cook this week’s recipe at my wonderful friend Elizabeth’s house, when I was house- and dog-sitting for her.

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Her kitchen is absolutely stunning, full of light and gorgeous appliances, and the perfect place to both cook a marvelous meal and to also sip wine and listen to the the ongoing adventures of our heroine, Max de Winter, the evil Mrs. Danvers, and imagine myself within the marble walls of Manderley.

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The unnamed heroine – no, she is never named – meets Max when she is working as a companion to the hideous and vulgar Mrs. Van Hopper and they are staying at a fancy hotel in the south of France. The heroine loathes her employer, and this dislike comes through clearly in this passage, which inspired me.

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…..compared to Mrs. Van Hopper, her fat, bejeweled fingers questing a plate heaped high with ravioli, her eyes darting suspiciously from her plate to mine for fear I should have made the better choice.

I love a good ravioli, stuffed with cheese or anything else. Though I don’t yet have the Kitchen Aid attachments for rolling and cutting homemade pasta, that’s on my list. In the meantime, I used premade ravioli from the marvelous Italian deli Tully’s, and my own tomato cream sauce with sausage and chicken. This is my own method, devised after too many pots of tomato sauce to mention.

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INGREDIENTS
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon butter
1 white onion
5 cloves of garlic
2 14-oz cans of San Marzano tomatoes
1 tablespoon fresh basil
1 tablespoon fresh oregano
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary
1 cup red wine
1 tablespoon chicken bouillon paste
Salt and pepper to taste
2 heaping tablespoons Parmesan cheese
1 cup half-and-half
2 bags of premade ravioli
4 cups spinach
8 oz Italian sausage
6 boneless, skinless chicken thighs

METHOD
Heat the olive oil and butter in a pot. Finely chop the onion and garlic. Add to the oil and butter and saute for about 10 minutes.

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Mince the oregano, basil, and rosemary. Wonderful smells! Add to the onion and garlic, and stir together to cook, another 10 minutes.

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Pour in the tomatoes and stir again. Crimson heaven!

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Add the red wine and the chicken bouillon paste, stir to mix, then cover and simmer for an hour.

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In another skillet, cook the sausage for about 5 minutes, then add to the tomato sauce. Cook another hour on a low simmer.

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Cube and cook the chicken in a pan until it’s pink and cooked through. Add to the tomato sauce to finish cooking.

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Finely blend the sauce in a blender. Pour back in the pan to stay hot.

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Toss in the spinach to wilt in the hot sauce. Stir, cover, and let render down.

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Add the half-and-half here, to make a lovely pinkish-red emulsion.

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In another pot, boil the ravioli in salted water for 3 minutes, then finish cooking them in the hot tomato sauce.

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Plate up by putting some of the luscious sauce onto a platter, topping with some ravioli, and dolloping another large spoonful on top. Then, simply enjoy with a sigh of pleasure.

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The Mirror Thief by Martin Seay

Photography by me.

Are you a Venetian at heart? I am, and any book set in Venice has a special place on my bookshelf. Venice is the most beautiful place on earth, because it shimmers. That’s the only way I can describe it. The waters surrounding the islands, the lagoons with their sea-green waves, the sight of the church towers from Piazza San Marco or Isola di San Michele from the Fondamenta Nuova……….pictures don’t do it justice and I have rarely read a book description that fully does, either. You simply have to visit Venice and see its gorgeous, watery-reflected beauty for yourself.

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The Mirror Thief is set in three separate historical timeframes, and in three different Venices. Venice, Italy is the heart of the tale and where the story of conspiracy, theft, and some very odd metaphysical concepts of time, starts with the story of Crivano, an alchemist who wants to steal the secret of Venetian glassmaking in the late 1500s. Venice Beach, California is literally the midpoint of the book and the historical setting of late 1950s and the beatnik poet scene in which Stanley seeks out the author of the book that has affected him profoundly, and finally, the Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas, Nevada in 2003, when Curtis goes on a quest to find Stanley, and instead, finds the book that has colored his entire life, The Mirror Thief, an alchemical book of magical poetry written about Crivano himself.

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The three timeframes are connected incredibly well, due to Seay’s expertise in both writing and connecting disparate concepts. I was hooked from the first sentence, and although I had to make sure and not lose the threads of the complex storylines and historical timeframes, honestly, this is the most engrossing book I’ve read in years. It also made me consider the concept of mirrors and reflections – do we exist only because we are reflected back to ourselves in a mirror? Can the mirror ever reflect anything but the truth? What is the truth, and how do we see it reflected back to ourselves?

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My favorite line is:  It is difficult, but probably necessary, to remember that books always know more than their authors do. They are always wiser. Once they are in the world, they develop their own peculiar ideas. I’ve never written a book, but I agree with the idea that books do become something completely different than what their authors intended. It’s inevitable, don’t you think? In reading any book, we all bring our own ideas, preconceived notions, heartbreaks, beliefs and convictions.

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A scene where Crivano arrives at an inn in the Rialto area to meet Tristao, one of his co-conspirators, featured some truly delicious sounding foods, including what I took to be another description for risotto.

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One of Anzolo’s Friulian serving-girls has emerged from the kitchen, bearing sweet white wine from Sopron. Before Crivano’s cup is full, a second girl arrives with food: tiny artichokes, rice porridge, Lombardy quail stuffed with mincemeat……………Crivano takes a spoonful of rice porridge – rich with beef broth and mushrooms – and chews it slowly, trying to imagine what Narkis would have him do.

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Risotto – rice porridge – is one of those deceptively simple dishes. It’s essentially stirring liquid into rice for 25-30 minutes until absorbed. Yet, like any other dish that relies on simplicity for its tastiness, it also relies on high-quality ingredients. Arborio rice is what is usually used, or Vialone Nano, which is a bit harder to find where I am. I decided some beef-flavored risotto bursting with artichoke hearts, mushrooms and Parmesan cheese was in order this Sunday afternoon, based on the method clearly outlined in Chestnuts and Truffles post on making risotto like a Nonna. Ciao, bella!

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INGREDIENTS
1 14-oz jar artichoke hearts
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
1 cup baby bella mushrooms (sliced)
3 cups spinach
6 cups beef stock and 1 beef stock cube
1 cup white wine
1 red onion, finely diced
5 cloves garlic, finely diced
1 and 1/2 cups arborio rice
1/2 cup parmesan cheese

METHOD
Saute the mushrooms in half the olive oil and butter, about 10 minutes.

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Add the spinach, mix well and cook until the spinach has wilted. Set aside.

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Heat the beef broth in a large pan. Bring to a low boil and keep it hot.

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In another pan over medium heat, add the rest of the olive oil and butter, and cook the onion and garlic until soft.

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Pour in the arborio rice, and stir. The idea is to get the butter and onion flavors into the rice, and also to toast it a bit, again for added flavor. This is called la tostatura, as the rice toasts. So says my friend and awesome chef Luca Marchiori.

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Splash over the white wine, and give the rice another mix. Then start slowly adding the hot beef stock, one ladleful at a time. Stir each ladleful until the liquid has completely absorbed.

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Continue in this vein, repeating a ladleful of stock and stirring until absorbed. It’ll probably take a good 25-30 minutes. I find stirring risotto very therapeutic, along the lines of making caramelized onions. It soothes the heart and mind.

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When the risotto is al dente, add in the wilted spinach, mushrooms, and artichoke hearts. Taste for seasoning and add salt and pepper if needed. Sprinkle over the Parmesan and again, stir.

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Serve with more of the same white wine you used for the risotto, and eat with sheer pleasure in your heart, dreaming of Venice.

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Don Quixote de la Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes

I was lucky enough to have inherited my dad’s version of this marvelous treasure of a book, Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, and which has notes in his handwriting, making it even more precious. My undergraduate degree was in Spanish, and as part of my graduation requirements, I had to read Part II in its original language, not an easy task, I can tell you. But it gave me such an appreciation for the sly humor and satire that characterizes this book.

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I’m sure everyone knows the classic story of The Man of La Mancha, the wanna-be knight who has rotted his brain by reading too many books on medieval romance, and one day decides to go out into the world as a Knight, righting wrongs, serving justice where needed, and of course, acting as a courtly gentleman toward all ladies. He knights himself with an old armored helmet and an elderly horse named Roxinante, finds a servant in his neighbor Sancho Panza, and off into the world they go to have adventures both touching, sad, and hilarious.

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Gustave Doré’s famous woodcut of Don Quixote de la Mancha, and one of my absolute favorite prints in the world.

The book is divided into two sections, the first part being the tale of adventures Don Quixote has, including the iconic scene where he fights the windmills, is knighted at the inn, and constantly defends his lady Dulcinea del Toboso, who is, in reality, a slatternly servant. (That’s a great word, slatternly, isn’t it?)

In Part II, Cervantes uses the literary device known as meta-fiction, meaning the characters are self-aware and realize they are literary creations. It’s a fun thing to read, and fascinating on many levels, the idea of literary characters who know they are book characters.

 

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In Chapter XX of the the second part of the book, we find them attending the wedding of Camacho The Rich, who is marrying Quiteria The Fair. Quiteria has renounced Basilio The Poor to marry the wealthy Camacho, and Basilio is heart-broken. Sancho and Quixote argue the virtues of marrying for love vs. marrying for money, with Sancho feeling Basilio has no right to marry anyone if he has no money. Quixote, being the romantic that he is, is irritated at Sancho’s argument and hushes him rudely before they actually arrive at the sumptuous wedding feast, which is true medieval excess in every way. There are cheeses galore, gallons of wine, pigs waiting to be roasted, bread and stews, plucked chickens waiting to be cooked, and a myriad of other foods, which symbolize Camacho’s wealth and the ostentation of the wealthy class.

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Sancho did as his master bade him, and putting the saddle on Roxinante and the pack-saddle on Dapple, they both mounted and at a leisurely pace entered the arcade. The first thing that presented itself to Sancho’s eyes was a whole ox spitted on a whole elm tree…….six stewpots that stood round the blaze had not been made in the ordinary mould of common pots, for they were six half wine-jars………….Countless were the hares ready skinned and the plucked fowls that hung on the trees for burial in the pots, numberless the wildfowl and game of various sorts suspended from the branches that the air might keep them cool. Sancho counted more than sixty wine skins of over six gallons each, and all filled, as it proved afterwards, with generous wines.

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As much as I would love to someday be able to recreate an entire medieval feast of this magnitude, today I settled for a riff on the plucked fowls featured as part of Camacho’s wedding feast. Because let’s face it, chicken stuffed with chorizo and Spanish cheese can make everything in the world better!

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This is the method that worked for me, based on several previous attempts to make stuffed chicken, and also with a nod toward Nigella Lawson’s chicken with chorizo and cannellini beans, a huge favorite of mine.

INGREDIENTS
6 boneless, skinless chicken thighs, pounded somewhat flat
One 1-ounce tube of beef chorizo, preferably cured Spanish but use what you have on hand
1 cup Manchego cheese, grated

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3 cups of spinach
1 tablespoon Spanish smoked paprika

METHOD
Heat the oven to 350F.

Squeeze the chorizo out of its casing into a non-stick pan, and cook over medium heat until the beautiful, terra-cotta colored oils start to ooze out of them. Probably about 10 minutes should do it.

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Add the spinach to the chorizo in the pan, add a dash of red wine to give more liquid to the veg, and season with garlic powder. Stir frequently until the spinach wilts, about 10 minutes again. Remove from heat.

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Flatten out your chicken thighs using a rolling pin. Just cover them with plastic wrap and whack the hell out of each thigh for a few seconds. Excellent stress relief, which I think many of us need right now.

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Lay a spoonful of the chorizo mixture in the center of each rolled-out chicken thigh.

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Sprinkle over a handful of grated Manchego. Then roll up each thigh and spear with toothpicks to hold the shape.

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Place in an lightly oiled baking pan. Pour a little bit of chicken broth and a little bit of red wine into the bottom of the pan, to keep the chicken moist and prevent burning and sticking to the pan bottom.

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Sprinkle Spanish paprika on top of each chicken roll. Admire the gorgeous, deep red ochre of the spice on the chicken.

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Bake for half an hour. You’ll start seeing the cheese oozing and melting out of the chicken. This is a good thing. Trust me. After 30 minutes, remove from the oven and allow to cool. Sprinkle over a bit of sea salt. Don’t forget to remove the toothpicks from the chicken. Trust me on this.

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Serve as is, with whatever side or starch you like. I had some leftover tomato basil fettucine and some egg noodles, so I cooked them together, then made a simple lemon-cream sauce for the pasta. Yum!

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Wash it down with a nice Spanish red. Because it wouldn’t be truly an homage to our favorite knight errant and his sidekick if we didn’t toast them with the wine of Spain.

Si hay este mundo vino, y no bebió vino, a que chingado vino.

Strange Pilgrims by Gabriel García Márquez

5152QdYs-aLI’ve had a long-time passionate love for Gabriel García Márquez for years now, originally fueled by Love in the Time of Cholera and Of Love and Other Demons, and most especially, Strange Pilgrims. This book, a compilation of twelve surreal and dreamlike tales, tells of a woman who sells her dreams – speaking of which – to the wealthy citizens of Vienna, two young brothers who endure the torture of an English governess one Greek summer, a family vacationing overnight in a haunted castle in Italy who wake to find themselves covered in blood, and a saintly man who carries the uncorrupted body of his dead daughter to and from the Vatican each day hoping to have her canonized, among others. Chief among my favorite of these stories, is Maria Dos Prazeres. Perhaps because I fear dying old and alone, perhaps because I, too, spent many years in the thrall of loving someone terrible for me, and perhaps because I also have a little dog that I cherish, could I relate so strongly to this story of an aging prostitute who fears no one will weep at her funeral and so trains her little dog, Noi, to weep over her grave.

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Maria Dos Prazeres has a long-time client, an elderly count who comes to her house once a fortnight with a bottle of champagne and the paper, and sits to read while she prepares them both a meal, in a very odd parody of a marriage. They then retire to the bedroom. But the meal she cooks him sounded unusual and quite delicious.

“The visit had turned into a ritual. The punctual Count would arrive between seven and nine at night with a bottle of local champagne, wrapped in the afternoon paper to make it less noticeable, and a box of filled truffles. Maria dos Prazeres prepared cannelloni au gratin and a young chicken au jus – the favorite dishes from the halcyon days of fine old Catalonian families – and a bowl filled with fruits of the season.”

This recipe works on the premise that you already have some tomato sauce already made, and which I tend to always have on hand because it’s so calming to make. Anyway, if you don’t have some made, you can use a can of Italian-style diced tomatoes but I can’t promise they will taste as good. Anyway, onward!

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This is the method that worked for me.

INGREDIENTS

8-10 cannelloni or manicotti pasta shells
6 chicken thighs, boneless and skinless, and poached and shredded. (I usually do this day before.)

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1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
2 shallots, finely diced
4 cloves of garlic, peeled and finely minced
1 bag of spinach
1 carton of raw mushrooms, sliced
2 cups of fontina cheese
3 tablespoons of flour
3 tablespoons of butter
1 1/2 cup of hot milk
Bunch of flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
1 cup of Italian-style breadcrumbs
2 cups of already-made tomato ragú sauce

METHOD

In a large pot, bring about 8-10 cups of salted water to a boil. When boiling, cook the cannelloni shells for 10 minutes, checking for doneness. They should be al dente, chewy but with a hint of firmness. Drain the noodles, but don’t rinse, and leave to cool while you make your cannelloni filling. Save about a cup of the starchy pasta cooking water and set aside.

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In a large skillet, heat the olive oil and add the diced shallots and garlic. Slice about half the mushrooms and add them in, so they saute as well. Cook for about 10-12 minutes, then add the spinach and wilt it down in the onion, garlic and mushrooms, so that all the flavors mingle. Remove from heat, add the cooked chicken and some of the saved pasta cooking water, stir together to mix well, and set aside to cool while you make the bechamel sauce.

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In yet another pot (did I mention you’ll have a hella big amount of dishes to wash after this?), melt the butter over medium heat and when melted, slowly add in the flour. Stir vigorously with a whisk, so that the flour incorporates. Gradually pour in the hot milk, continuing and whisk until everything is amalgamated. Lower the heat to medium low, and stir stir stir, until the sauce thickens. This will take about 10 minutes, and don’t leave it because the milk could curdle or burn and that would just totally suck, wouldn’t it?

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When nice and hot and thick, add in the chopped parsley and some salt, lower the heat again, and stir some more so the parsley flavor infuses everything. This is the point where you want to add in a good cupful of your tomato ragú sauce, which will make the bechamel a gorgeous, deep pinky-red color. Remove from the heat and allow to cool while you assemble the cannelloni shells.

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In a buttered glass or metal pan, add a good spoonful or two of your premade tomato ragú sauce to the bottom. Grate the Havarti cheese into the chicken-spinach-mushroom mixture and mix together well, preferably with your very clean hands.

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Stuff each cannelloni shell with some of the divine-smelling mixture. Once all the shells are filled, lay them in a row in the glass pan, add some chopped raw mushrooms, pour over the reddish-hued, luscious cream sauce, top with the Italian breadcrumbs, and bake for 35 minutes, or until the top is golden. The smell from the oven – what divine and sweet torture it is!

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Remove from the oven and admire the golden, gooey beauty that this dish is. Then, of course, apply it to your face. Yum!