Archive for 2007
what’s cooking wednesday: rosemary rabbit and roasted potatoes
Let me start by saying I know rabbit probably isn’t a common dish for many of you, but we eat it all the time as P’s parents raise the little guys for food. You could easily do this recipe with chicken, though, so please don’t be put off by the bun’.
This week’s What’s Cooking Wednesday will mark a first around here as I decided to post an entire meal–mostly because once I put a plate together last night, it looked so darn good, I couldn’t resist.
So, here we have rabbit with rosemary, roasted potatoes, garlic bread, and salad with red onion. Let’s take it from the top with all the ingredients you’ll need for everything.
1 rabbit cut into pieces
6 medium potatoes (serves 2-3 people)
salad greens
6 cloves garlic
olive oil
rosemary
white wine vinegar
salt
black pepper
peperoncino
1 red onion for salad (optional)
Oven-Roasted Potatoes
First preheat the oven to about 400°F (205°C). Peel and cut the potatoes into wedges, and put them in a baking dish. Drizzle with olive oil and season them with black pepper, peperoncino, a few sprigs of rosemary, and a generous amount of salt. Don’t be afraid of the seasonings here; it takes a lot to overseason potatoes (except with the peperoncino, depending on how hot you like them).
Put them in the oven, and just let them do their thing. Every now and again, give them a shake and turn them around a bit. They should take about an hour and fifteen minutes to roast, and if you want them crispy on the outside but soft in the middle (how I like them but P doesn’t), it’ll take a little longer. The other option to shorten cooking time is to raise the heat from the get-go.
Let the potatoes sit for a few minutes before you eat as they are extremely, extremely hot out of the oven. Bet you knew that.
Rabbit with Rosemary
If the rabbit (or chicken) isn’t cut into pieces, that needs to be done first. P’s in charge of all things bunny around here, so he does this, and I have no tips to offer. Although a lot of people marinate the rabbit, we don’t, and I really like it better this way because you taste more of the rabbit and less of the seasonings, but to each her own.
Put a generous amount of olive oil (5 tablespoons) in a frying pan and sauté 4 garlic cloves on medium heat until lightly golden brown and then remove.* Add rabbit pieces, seasoning with black pepper, peperoncino, salt, and rosemary sprigs. Once one side of the bunny is browning, flip, and let the other side brown as well.
Turn down the heat to low, add about a half cup of white wine vinegar, and let rabbit simmer for another fifteen to twenty minutes or so, or until the inside is no longer pink. If your rabbit is sucking in all the liquid too quickly, add some hot water, but only if absolutely necessary.
*For a special treat, add some pancetta/bacon to the garlic at the beginning; this adds a great smoky taste.
Note that the entire rabbit portion of the meal will probably take about forty-five minutes, so you can try to time it with the potatoes accordingly.
Garlic Bread
About five minutes before you will eat, you should put the bread in the oven. You can use a fancy broiler if you have, but I just used the heat from the potatoes and set the oven on its lowest setting for the bread.
Use thin slices of preferably Italian bread, and smear on a little butter or drizzle a little olive oil, depending on your taste. Peel a couple of garlic cloves and cut in half; use the halves to rub onto the bread.
Put in the oven, and remove when toasted to your liking–a light golden brown is usually good.
Salad with Red Onion
OK, you probably don’t need instructions here, but for the sake of a complete meal, I’ll describe what I did.
Wash the salad greens and tear into bite size chunks. Cut a red onion into chunks and mix with greens. For the dressing, drizzle olive oil and white wine vinegar on top and then add salt and a pinch of sugar. Toss salad and serve.
And there you have an entire meal, ready in about an hour and a half from start to finish.
Buon appetito!
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[tags]rabbit recipes, rosemary, roasted potatoes, potatoes, salad, red onions, garlic bread, cooking, what’s cooking wednesday, recipes[/tags]
top o’ the morning to ya!
As I type this at 2:30 in the afternoon, it’s raining. Hard. Again.
But it was an absolutely gorgeous morning, and for the first time in a (too) long while, I went out and about and took some photos.
First, some of Luna Balloona.
Chillin’ in the piazza.
At attention.
Her response to “Work it girl! Bring the sexy back!”
Also known as the over-the-shoulder-come-hither.
Now, other nature.
A precocious fig tree that already has most of its leaves; village in background.
And, last but certainly not least, the first wild daisy that I’ve seen this year.
Even when it’s raining, may you always walk in sunshine.
–paraphrased Irish proverb
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[tags]dogs, figs, daisies, flowers, calabria, southern italy[/tags]
seven songs say so much
Well well well. If it isn’t The Other Girl up and tagging me with a meme.
Although The Notorious OG was tagged with something like “List the seven songs you’re currently listening to,” she adjusted the question to more reflect her own music habits so that it’s now “The Seven Songs I Would Pick If I Could Only Listen To Seven Songs For The Rest Of My Life, Which, Yeah, Like Someone Is Going To Impose That Condition On Me, And Assuming I Can Even Come Up With Seven.”
I prefer her version as well, so here are mine:
1. Me and Bobby McGee, Janis Joplin
One of my favorite songs of all time. It just beats out Call on Me, another Janis favorite, because it’s more upbeat and easier to sing along to. I like to sing along, especially if I only have seven songs for the rest of my life.
2. One Shining Moment (the theme song from March Madness), any rendition
The ball is tipped, and there you are
You’re running for your life
You’re a shooting star.
And all the years, no one knows
Just how hard you worked
But now it shooooows….
I’m quite certain I can do anything after I hear this song. After I wipe the snot from my nose, of course. The fact that I’m currently missing yet another NCAA tournament has nothing to do with this nostalgia either. I swear.
3. Everybody Hurts, REM
Because, well, sometimes, everybody *does* hurt, and I like for REM to share those moments with me.
4. Crash, Dave Matthews Band
For, ahem, intimate times, sometimes following those REM times if you’re lucky. No pun intended.
5. The Way You Make Me Feel, Michael Jackson
Hoo-hoo! You knock me off of my feet!
How can you not be happy when you hear this song (ignoring any and all creepy MJ vibes, of course)?
6. True Fine Love, Steve Miller Band
It was hard to pick just one Steve Miller Band song because I like them all so darn much, but the opening of this song always makes me smile. And stick my neck out and, alternately, in, like a turkey. Seemed like as good a reason as any for it to make the top seven.
7. Iris, Goo Goo Dolls
On my final song, I was pulled in many different directions. I mean, this is forever! Only! Seven! Songs!
And then I realized it’s just a meme (not to disrespect the Power of the Meme, of course), so I brushed aside something Sinatra, Connick Jr., or Van Morrison and went with a song I do happen to listen to an awful lot. The whole City of Angels soundtrack, actually, which is impressive because other than the soundtracks of The Big Chill, Shrek, and The Blue Brothers, I don’t do that much.
And now the really fun part. I’m supposed to tag seven people to play as well. I’ve never tagged anyone, but what the hay. It’s Monday morning, and we only changed our clocks this past Saturday night, so I’m feeling like it’s only 7.15 a.m. as I type this, and well, Cherrye, Shannon, Karen, Loulou, Annika, Christina, and Giulia, you’re it! Feel free to use either version of the Seven Songs Meme.
If you do choose to validate our blogging relationship, and I so hope you do, leave me a comment to know where to find your list. You wouldn’t want to reject me on my first attempt to tag, now would you?
P.S. I’m trying out that Italian mamma guilt thing…how’s it working?
Hoo-hoo!
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[tags]music, seven songs meme, memes, songs[/tags]
sunday scribblings: in the kitchen
Prompt #52: In the Kitchen
My childhood home had a front door, but only strangers ever used it.
To get into our house, it was common knowledge that you should come up the alley to the backyard, lift up the latch on the gate (which rubbed in such a way so as to announce your presence), walk up the mostly unbroken cement path (avoiding jumps of a hyper dog of which there was always at least one), clank up the seven metal steps onto the wooden porch (color changed from brick red to deep green to spring green to medium grey to light grey, repeat), and let yourself in the back door.
And there, in the kitchen, you’d find my grandmother. At the stove, at the sink, or at the table doing crosswords, plastic canvas, or some other craft, watching the Phillies, or, depending on the time of day, napping, her head propped up by her hand as if she was simply bored with your arrival.
You’d be greeted with dark wood everywhere, and, for quite some time, avocado green appliances; they were all the rage in the early 70’s you know. But it certainly wasn’t the decor that would keep your attention.
You’d be assaulted by the smells of coffee and cigarettes, and, if you were lucky, delicious wafts of something fresh off the stove or out of the oven. You’d do your best to speak over the television blaring in the background with either Harry Kalas or Emeril imparting baseball or cooking wisdom (respectively); her dedication to them was unfailing.
You’d be ordered to sit down and drink and eat (and eat and eat), and you would do so with pleasure. You’d probably sit in that very spot for hours talking about something or another, and why don’t you have another piece of cake? You look too thin!
In the kitchen was *the* place to be in our house, and, in fact, my grandmother spent all day, every day there in her sturdy wooden chair, resisting all invitations to the more comfortable spots in the living room. It was, quite simply, her place. Many a guest, family and friends, passed through that back door to find my grandmother in the kitchen waiting to entertain; Christmas or just an ordinary day, it was business as usual in the kitchen.
Only the volume of food changed.
I miss that kitchen terribly. So many memories, so much laughter, so much love, many ear-splitting arguments as well, but always life. Anyone who has ever been in it would tell you that.
I’ll never forget the first time I walked through the back door and into the kitchen after my grandmother’s death. It was dark and silent and disappointing, and so literally, unbearably empty.
And I remember thinking that next time, I really should go around and use the front door.
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[tags]sunday scribblings, kitchens, grandmothers’ kitchens, grandmothers[/tags]
a different kind of malocchio
I’ve written about the curse of malocchio, but yesterday at 4 a.m., I experienced a much different kind of “bad eye.” I woke up with a literal one that was tearing, burning, itching, and just being a big ole pain.
Needless to say, I couldn’t fall back asleep–did you notice that I posted at 5:30 a.m. yesterday? Yeah, you probably won’t be seeing that again unless the eye strikes back.
So after posting, I woke up P for work. He asked if I wanted to go down the mountain to the doctor. Nah, I said, we’ll see how it progresses.
I don’t like the doctor, but I really hate going here, where it can take hours of sitting among a bunch of sickies before I’m seen only to get news that I could’ve gotten at the pharmacy, where the pharmacist diagnoses you and sells you whatever he thinks you need. No thanks.
A few minutes after P left for work, he returned and told me that he had two different volunteers in the piazza that would take me to the doctor if I wanted. Again, no. Let’s just wait and see, I said.
So once I was sure the pharmacist had arrived in the village, I ventured out for some medical advice; he usually rolls in around 9:30, but to be safe I waited until 10. And wouldn’t you know? A line of people.
I, of course, kept my sunglasses on, so I got even more stares than I normally would, as oddly enough, young people don’t often hang out in the pharmacy in a village where the average age is somewhere around 65. After a few minutes and a gasp from the pharmacist at how bad my eye looked, I got some drops (the famous collirio for fellow expats) and was on my way.
And then more fun began.
First I ran into P’s sister-in-law who diagnosed me as having pink eye, which I had thought was a possibility as well, but she seemed particularly concerned because “My how your face is swollen! You look terrible!”
Then the clerk in the tobacco shop (needed to get tissues) seconded that emotion, and told me (in a speech that lasted no less than 15 minutes) that her two daughters had just gotten over pink eye.
Alrighty then. Moving on the grocery store, which is about a ten second walk down the street.
On the way, I was stopped by three different elderly women asking about my eye. I was wearing sunglasses, by the way, so they hadn’t actually seen a problem, but the word had clearly gotten out.
And then inside the grocery store, the clerk also diagnosed me with pink eye, although another customer thought I had just gotten something in it, like a mosquito, he said. I hadn’t thought of the mosquito angle, so I thanked him for his ingenuity.
The morning was rounded out by a phone call from P’s mom (who doesn’t live in the village, but rather down the mountain) asking me if I wanted to go to the doctor. Again, I resisted the invitation, and I didn’t even think it was strange that she knew I had an eye issue.
Instead, I squeezed some drops into my eye, causing ridiculous burning for a few seconds and finally some relief, and then called the school to tell them I wouldn’t be teaching today. They, incidentally, hadn’t heard of the Great Eye Debacle yet, so it was good I called.
More drops and many cold compresses later, the eye was mostly back to normal by yesterday evening–much to the relief of the village, which sent some representative questioners this morning when I took Luna for a walk.
As for the eye, I’m not sure if it was a quickly traveling virus or even, say, a mosquito, but it seems to have passed, and I am left with only photographic reminders of all the annoyance. Because of the horrible pain, I was up for the sunrise yesterday, and that didn’t turn out to be a bad consolation prize.*
Unfortunately the weather turned cloudy and rainy soon thereafter, but you wouldn’t know it from the way the day started.
This from the balcony:
And this from my kitchen window as the sun traveled through the sky:
*Excuse the crookedness factor please. I was only working with one good eye, you know, and even that wasn’t so good since I didn’t have my contacts in. I’m virtually blind with uncorrected vision.
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[tags]eye problems, sunrises, calabria, life in calabria[/tags]
Michelle Kaminsky is an American attorney-turned-freelance writer who lived in her family's ancestral village in Calabria, Italy for 15 years. This blog is now archived.
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