Next weekend will be a variation on last weekend with what may seem like an unending parade of buttery sweets, rich cheeses, roasted turkeys, sublime wines, New Year’s Eve buffets and football feasts. The abundance of rich, artery clogging food that inspired my daughter-in-law, Alison, to suggest that we start each day with a bowl of oatmeal.

Oatmeal often described as a cholesterol lowering, vitamin rich, high fiber digestive aid is also a staple in my pantry. Charles often cooks up a batch of rolled oats in the microwave and we enjoy it topped with a bit of brown sugar and a splash of milk. But inspired by the holiday week, Alison created six varieties of luxurious oatmeal. Each variety began with Alison’s basic Oatmeal. Here’s how she made it:

Alison’s Basic Oatmeal
1 1/2 cup steel cut oats
6 cups boiling water
1/4 cup sunflower seeds
2 teaspoons ground flax seeds

She began by adding the steel cut oats and to the water in a medium saucepan. She stirred the oats occasionally and after half an hour of cooking, over medium-low heat, most of the water had been absorbed and the oats were tender. While the oats cooked, Alison put a quarter of the sunflower seeds and flax seeds into four deep cereal bowls.

On Monday she made Cinnamon Apple Oatmeal
Basic Oatmeal
1 apple, cored and cut in 1/2 inch dice
1/4 cup pecans, chopped
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
8 teaspoons brown sugar
1 cup milk, heated
She added a quarter of the apple, pecans, cinnamon and brown sugar to the sunflower and flax seeds in each of four deep cereal bowls and added the cooked oats and warm milk. It was better than apple pie for breakfast.

On Tuesday, Alison added raspberries, almonds and honey to the sunflower and flax seeds.
Raspberry Almond Oatmeal

Basic Oatmeal
1 cup raspberries
1/2 cup slivered almonds
4 tablespoons honey
The hot oatmeal intensified the flavor of the fresh raspberries and made breakfast better than a Linzer Torte.
Today we had mixed berry oatmeal. It follows the Luxurious Oatmeal method with these ingredients:

Mixed Berry Oatmeal
Basic Oatmeal
1/2 cup strawberries, sliced
1/2 cup blueberries
1/2 cup raspberries
1/2 cup pecans
4 teaspoons brown sugar

Mixed berry oatmeal surpassed strawberry shortcake for breakfast.

Alison has written Banana Walnut Oatmeal on the calendar for tomorrow and Fig Oatmeal for Friday. Here are the ingredient lists:

Coconut Banana Oatmeal
Basic Oatmeal
2 bananas, sliced
1/2 cup unsweetened coconut, shredded
4 Tablespoons maple syrup
Fig-Hazelnut Oatmeal

Basic Oatmeal
6 dried figs, diced
1/2 cup hazelnuts, chopped
4 Tablespoons honey

Although I haven’t tasted the Coconut Banana or the Fig-Hazelnut Oatmeal, I’m confident that they will be at least as tasty as banana bread or fig newtons for breakfast.

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Aside from two packages of chocolate covered ginger cookies, two packages of Welsh cakes were the only souvenirs I brought home. After Charles and I had breakfast on Saturday there were only two Welsh cakes left.
My closest source of Welsh cakes involved a two-hour bus ride, a seven-hour plane ride, another two-hour bus ride and a five-minute taxi ride; I had to figure out how to make them. I began with the label. It listed wheat flour, sugar, currants, free range eggs, milk and baking powder. I did a bit of research, in cookbooks and on the Internet, and learned that traditional Welsh cakes are cooked on a griddle rather than baked in the oven. Here’s my recipe for ‘No Travel Necessary’ (Vermont) Welsh Cakes.

Welsh Cakes

I used a whisk to mix together two cups of all-purpose flour, one-third of a cup of granulated sugar, two and a half teaspoons of baking powder and one-quarter of a teaspoon of kosher salt. I grated one stick, half a cup, of unsalted cold butter into the flour mixture using the largest holes on a box grater. I used two knives to blend the shreds of butter with the flour mixture. When the mixture looked like coarse crumbs, I stirred in half a cup of currants and a quarter of a cup of minced dry cherries.

I used a fork to combine one whole egg and two tablespoons of whole milk in a small cup and then added it to the flour mixture. I had to add nearly two more tablespoons of milk to the mixture in order to create a dough. I kneaded the dough gently on a lightly floured board and then rolled it to a thickness of a quarter of an inch.

I used a two and a half inch round biscuit cutter and made fifteen cakes. I heated the griddle over low heat for ten minutes, added a generous teaspoon of butter and cooked the Welsh cakes, over medium low heat, for five minutes on each side, until they were golden brown but still soft in the center. I removed them from the griddle and immediately sprinkled them with vanilla sugar.

Charles and I had a second, smallish, breakfast of still-warm-from-the-griddle Welsh cakes and a cup of tea before we cleaned up the flour-dusted kitchen. Welsh cakes can be served warm or at room temperature, slathered with soft butter, spread with jam, accompanied with whipped cream and stewed plums or out of hand on the train that takes you from the station to the university.

I used a box grater because the butter was frozen and I didn’t want to use a food processor. If you prefer to use a food processor, start by whizzing all of the dry ingredients together, cut the butter into eight chunks and add it to the flour mixture and pulse it five times or until the mixture looks like coarse crumbs. Add the egg and then add milk slowly, while machine is running until dough begins to form a mass. It’s best to err on the side of too little rather than too much milk. Tip dough out onto a floured surface, add currants and cherries or dried fruit of your choice and knead it all together. Roll dough and cook the cut rounds on a griddle or place rounds on a parchment lined baking sheet and bake in a pre-heated 350º oven for about eight minutes, or until set, then turn them over and bake for eight minutes more.

Baked Welsh cakes will not be as brown as those cooked on a buttered griddle. Homemade Welsh cakes have a much lower carbon footprint than the ones from Marks & Spencer and are absolutely smashing with a steamy pot of tea. I’m planning on making them when Matthew comes to visit in December.

Click here to download and print an ingredients list and recipe.

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The possibilities are endless – you can present yourself as a superhero or a world leader, a puppy or a princess, a vampire or a bunny rabbit.Halloween treats are everywhere, free when you call out “Trick or Treat” at the home of a friendly neighbor.Thoughts of Halloween disguises and Halloween treats got me to wondering. Could I disguise an often overlooked and sometimes disparaged vegetable, rich in vitamins and minerals and low in calories, in a Halloween treat?

I was thinking about parsnips. To be honest, I have never been a parsnip fan; I’ve cooked them, served them and composted them, generally in that order. My past attempts have been dry, woody, insipid or simply uninspiring.

Time to let my imagination run wild, time to dress up a parsnip as a sweet treat. Grated parsnip, combined with nuts, dried fruit, and sugar, held together with flour and egg, fluffed up with baking powder and oil, disguised in a silver fluted skirt – Say Boo! The costumed parsnip was on its way to the Halloween party. Here’s how I did it:

Parsnip Muffins

I began by preheating the oven to 350 F/175 C and placing foil liners in 18 muffin cups.

I used the largest holes on a box grater to grate two large parsnips to make 2 cups/180 g and one large apple to make 1 cup/100 g. I whisked together 2 cups/200 g of flour, 3/4 cup/100 g of sugar, three-quarters of a teaspoon of baking soda, one and a half teaspoons of baking powder, half a teaspoon of salt, one teaspoon of dry ginger, and half a teaspoon ground nutmeg in a mixing bowl.

I whisked together two eggs, 3/4 cup/180 ml of oil, 1/2 cup/120 ml of milk and a teaspoon of vanilla in a separate bowl. I combined the egg mixture and the flour mixture, added 1 cup/100 g of chopped almonds, 1/2 cup/100 g of chopped dried peaches, the parsnip and apple.

The batter was divided among the muffin cups and baked for 25 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center of a muffin came out clean. Removed from the pan, the muffins cooled on a wire rack.

With a basket of muffins in hand and a paper asking, “What’s disguised in these muffins?” I set off for a gathering or friends who were putting the church garden to bed for the winter.Fifteen friends sampled the muffins. Their guesses included: coconut, orange, banana, carrots, lemon zest, zucchini, guava, cauliflower, pistachio and my favorite – ground-up donuts. No one guessed parsnips – a perfect disguise!

Perhaps this is the beginning of a new Halloween tradition – Masquerading Vegetables on Parade.

With newfound respect for parsnips I’m looking for other ways to use them. Any thoughts?

Say Boo! A perfect Halloween book, written by my friend Lynda Graham-Barber, along with the parsnips from her garden were the inspiration for is post. Lynda lives in the Northeast Kingdom where she writes, gardens and cooks.

Click here to download and print an ingredients list and recipe.

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Busy, busy.

Gracie, a nine-week old golden retriever puppy, is many things, but placid in the morning is not one of them. Her early morning needs forced me to figure out nutritious breakfasts that I can put together quickly and eat while I’m on the run with her.

On Thursday, a toasted whole-wheat English muffin, topped with a generous slather of whole milk ricotta cheese, a handful of chopped pecans and a drizzle of honey was reminiscent of the Sicilian ricotta pastries I have been missing. It gave me the energy boost I needed to take Gracie to meet our closest four-legged neighbors, the alpacas. They found her as fascinating as she found them.

On Friday morning, Charles entertained Gracie with her new chewy-stringy-thingy, a toy we hope will satisfy her rug-fringe chewing needs, while I made Morning Pizza for two. I topped toasted slices of crusty bread with ricotta cheese, slices of fresh plum tomatoes, a drizzle of olive oil, a sprinkle of oregano and salt and pepper, and heated them under the broiler for a minute. Gracie patiently worked on her digging technique while we ate breakfast.

Saturday morning, we woke before Gracie. I made a fried egg for Charles. Rather than over-easy or sunny-side-up, I made an egg-in-a-nest that celebrated Gracie’s arrival. I used a cookie cutter shaped like a large dog biscuit to cut a hole (the nest), in the center of a slice of bread. I heated two teaspoons of butter in a small frying pan over medium heat, put the pieces of bread into the pan and cracked an egg into the nest. When the bread was toasted and the egg had begun to set, I turned them over and continued cooking until the egg white was cooked. Charles ate breakfast and read the newspaper while Gracie watched our neighbor ride around the meadow on his lawn mower.

Mmm, chewy-stringy-thing.

We got off to a slow start on Sunday. Gracie was very busy chasing a ball and slipping and sliding on the kitchen floor while I assembled Granola Sundaes to go. I filled two mugs with alternating layers of frozen blueberries from last summers’ harvest, dollops of plain yogurt and scoops of granola. If I hadn’t been so busy sorting out toys and distractions for Gracie, the yogurt and granola might have been homemade but with a frisky puppy in my life, I’m lucky if I get a shower before dinner, never mind having time to make yogurt or granola.

By Sunday afternoon, I was running out of steam and realized that I needed an instant breakfast that I could grab, unwrap and eat while Gracie checked out the Canada geese nesting on the pond. I sent an email to my daughter-in-law, Alison, with four photos of Gracie and a request for her breakfast bar recipe. I made them while Charles and Gracie had their mid-afternoon naps in preparation for a late afternoon romp with the boys who live next door. Here’s how I made them:

Alison’s Breakfast Bars

I preheated the oven to 250º and oiled a 9 x 13 inch baking pan. I stirred together two and a half cups of rolled oats (not instant), one cup of shredded coconuts, one cup of dried cranberries, half a cup of sunflower seeds, half a cup of pumpkin seeds, two tablespoons of ground flax seeds, half a cup of slivered almonds and half a cup of chopped walnuts. I heated fourteen ounces of sweetened condensed milk on high in the microwave for one minute before I added it to the oatmeal/nut mixture. When the ingredients were combined, I spread the mixture into the oiled pan and then used a spatula to compress the bars and make the surface even. I baked the bars for one hour. After they had cooled for fifteen minutes, I cut them to make sixteen chunky bars.

Alison said that she varies the recipe, by using dried apricots, figs or cherries instead of the dried cranberries, substituting peanuts for some or all of the almonds and walnuts and by stirring in a couple of tablespoons of almond butter or crunchy peanut butter into the heated sweetened condensed milk.

I put the individually wrapped bars in a bowl, on the kitchen counter, next to Gracie’s collar so that I could grab one as we headed out for our Monday morning sunrise stroll.

Download and print breakfast bar recipe with an ingredients list here.

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Original watercolor painting by Carol Egbert

I suggested that they play for the vendors at Cappuccio’s fish stall on Saturday. Angelo Cappuccio, a Sicilian with a warm smile, a cigarette in his mouth and a huge cleaver in his hand, loves music. I promised David a bowl of Italian donuts if he played at the market. He said, “Sure. Why not?” We agreed to meet in the market at noon for a Vermont Violin Concert.

Angelo Cappuccio in yellow apron enjoys Violin Duets

David and Marcia were splendid, Angelo beamed, the crowd applauded and cheered. It was a perfect time at the market and there were zeppole to follow.

Ricotta, egg and orange rind ready to mixed together to make zeppole.

Here’s how I made sweet, puffy, ricotta based, deep-fried Italian donuts for the after the concert treat:

Zeppole

I used a fork to combine one cup of fresh ricotta with one egg and a teaspoon of orange zest. When the mixture was smooth, I added one cup of all-purpose flour, one teaspoon of baking powder, one teaspoon of granulated sugar and a quarter of a teaspoon of salt and stirred until it formed a sticky batter.

I heated three inches of vegetable oil in a saucepan. I didn’t have a thermometer so I tested the temperature of the oil by dropping a small blob of dough into the hot oil. I pushed it with a fork and when it began to float and small bubbles formed on the dough, I knew that the oil was hot enough.

I used one teaspoon to scoop out a ball of dough and a second teaspoon to push the dough into the hot oil. Zeppole automatically turn over when the bottom is cooked. I cooked them in batches of five and when they were golden, I drained them on brown paper, rolled them in cinnamon sugar.

I delivered the first batch to David with a tiny curtsey. He graciously shared them with his mother, father, brother Peter and Jim. Depending on appetites, this recipe will satisfy four or five hungry musicians.

On Sunday morning, long before sunrise, our new friends headed back to Vermont. We look forward to more music, more conversations and more zeppole when the warm weather arrives and we are back in Vermont.

Download and print cookie recipe with an ingredients list here.

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Since I hadn’t been to the open-air market on Sunday and the small, nearby markets were closed, breakfast resources in the fridge and pantry were limited. Charles decided to stop for coffee and a pastry on his way to the library so it was just Matthew and me for breakfast. Although, there were no strawberries, bread, milk, cereal, eggs or yogurt in the kitchen, there was one banana, some fresh ricotta, two blood oranges, honey and a shaker of cinnamon that Matthew had brought with him from the UK. I carefully peeled and sliced the banana and oranges and arranged them on a plate, added a scoop of ricotta, topped the ricotta and oranges with honey and squeezed a bit of orange juice on to the banana before dusting it with cinnamon. There was enough sun to capture this colorful breakfast in a photograph before we ate it.

I went to the market looking for inspiration and ingredients. San Marzano plum tomatoes from Georgio were a start. I choose a few waxy new potatoes, a bunch of broccoli and spring onions from the vendor next to him. Unfortunately, he is so grumpy that I’ve never asked him his name. I think his canary’s name is Elvis because that’s what’s painted on the cage. My final stop was to get cheese. Andrea was serving samples to passers-by but stopped long enough to wrap a ball of fresh mozzarella for me. I hurried home with a clear plan and everything I needed for a wonderful veggie dinner – a potato and tomato torta and steamed broccoli seasoned with garlic and dried hot pepper flakes. I would create a new recipe for dinner. Unfortunately new does not always mean good. Here’s what I did:

Potato & Tomato Torta

I wanted the toaster oven to be medium hot but the numbers on the dial are too small to be useful so I turned the knob to nine o’clock. I washed three tomatoes, scrubbed three potatoes and cut them all into quarter inch slices. I made stacks by alternating tomato and potato slices and arranged the stacks in three horizontal rows in an aluminum baking pan. I sprinkled a thinly sliced green onion on top, added a generous sprinkle of dried oregano, fresh black pepper and drizzled a couple of tablespoons of olive oil on top. After the torta had been baking for forty minutes, I added two tablespoons of white wine to the pan. I topped the torta with thick slices of fresh mozzarella after it had baked for fifteen more minutes and turned the oven control to broil to melt the cheese. In three minutes the cheese was melted and the torta was ready.

I peeled the broccoli stems and steamed it while the torta baked. Matthew minced a few cloves of garlic, sauteed it along with a generous pinch of dried red pepper flakes in a tablespoon of olive oil. He tossed in the broccoli, cooked it for a couple of minutes and we were ready for a wondrous feast.

Charles poured the wine and lit the candles. It was instantly obvious that two spoons were not up to the task of scooping out the torta. The potatoes and tomatoes were swimming in a pool of unappetizing milky pink liquid and the mozzarella was forming meter long strings that I snipped with a pair of scissors.

Charles bravely tasted the liquid in the pan, and said with a grimace, “It tastes pretty bad, a bit burned. Here, have some.” We laughed at his comment, remembered other cooking experiments and made do with a dinner that was less than splendid. Two candy bars from the corner store meant that we didn’t go to bed hungry.

As I drifted off to sleep, I thought about what I should have done:

Baked Potatoes

I should have layered the raw potatoes in a baking pan, added two tablespoons of olive oil and a grind of pepper and baked them in a medium hot oven until they were tender and beginning to brown.  Adding wine to the potatoes made them mushy and it would have been better sipped between bites of crispy potato.

Tomato Mozzarella Salad

Rather than cooking the tomatoes with the potatoes, I should have arranged slices of tomato and fresh mozzarella on a platter and topped them with generous splashes of olive oil and fig flavored balsamic vinegar.  The texture and flavor of the uncooked tomatoes is a perfect foil for the creamy, fresh, un-stringy mozzarella.

Failure in the kitchen happens and it’s not the end of the world.  We had a good laugh, enough to eat and shared a meal I’ll never forget and won’t repeat.

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Ciabatta more than three days old was too hard to eat until it had been softened. I cut it in quarter-inch chunks, added it to a green salad, poured salad dressing onto it, waited five minutes and then enjoyed it. On Monday, Italian French toast was the recipe of last resort to use the stale end of the loaf. Charles cut the ciabatta into four one-inch thick slices and put them into a single layer in a shallow baking pan. I mixed together one egg and two thirds of a cup of milk, poured it over the bread and refrigerated it for three hours while we were at the market choosing food for dinner. When we got back to our apartment, I sauteed the now very soft bread in butter over medium heat until it was golden on both sides. I put the finished pieces into the toaster oven to stay warm while I sauteed one sliced banana in a bit more butter, and made a small fruit salad with the remaining pear, a few strawberries, a teaspoon of orange blossom honey and a squeeze of lemon juice. This meal was sunny enough to counter the gray sky and chilly wind blowing in from the sea.

Our son Matthew arrived Monday evening for a three-week visit and I made dinner to welcome him. Because we had started the Italian French toast before going out, we were late getting to the market and there was less fish than usual. Angelo Cappucio, my favorite fish vendor, waved to me and showed me his last piece of salmon. Timing and friendship are everything at the market.

I bought a bunch of carrots with feathery greens, four tender-skinned new potatoes and a kilo of the fava beans that marked the arrival of spring in the market. Fava beans are in the same category of food as artichokes, corn on the cob, lobsters and crabs – when you have finished eating any of these things, the pile of debris that remains is larger than the initial serving, apparently disproving the law of Conservation of Mass. In any case, after more than an hour of shelling, blanching and husking a kilo, a bit more than two pounds, of fava beans I had 147 grams, about five ounces, of edible beans and a large bag full of inedible pods and husks.

We expected Matthew on the eight o’clock bus, so I put three thinly sliced new potatoes into a shallow baking pan, drizzling on two tablespoons of olive oil, dusted the top with dried oregano and black pepper. I put them into the toaster oven. The temperature dial on the toaster oven is in centigrade so I turned the dial to point to ‘seven o’clock’ and hoped for the best.

I simmered two thinly sliced carrots with a pinch of salt in a quarter of a cup of water. When the carrots were tender and the water nearly evaporated, I added the blanched, shelled fava beans and  a teaspoon of butter to the pan and turned off the heat.

Matthew arrived at 8:20 and after quick hellos and hugs all around I cooked the salmon while Charles and Matthew made plans over glasses of wine. Here’s how I did it:

Salmon Steak

I heated a tablespoon of olive oil in a skillet, dusted both sides of the salmon with freshly ground pepper and put it into the pan when the oil was shimmering. I cooked it over medium high heat for six minutes on each side until it had browned but the center was slightly undercooked and still pink so it wouldn’t be dry. I peeled off the skin and seasoned the steak with a generous squeeze of fresh lemon juice to finish it.

The potatoes were tender with crisp edges, the orange and green of the carrots and fava beans said, “Welcome Spring!” and the salmon was scrumptious. Made with ten ingredients – potatoes, fava beans, carrots, salmon, olive oil, lemon juice, butter, oregano, salt, and pepper – dinner was simply delicious.

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My first two meals in Sicily, reminded me that a few simple ingredients carefully combined often result in a sublime meal. Pasta alla Norma, a Sicilian classic, is inspired by Mt. Etna. The chunks of eggplant suggest lava and the creamy white, ricotta salata cheese sprinkled on top represents the snow that I saw as the plane circled the still active volcano just before we landed.

Thursday morning, we set off to reconnect with the vendors at the market. With so many tourists passing through the market each year, I wondered if my return would be noticed. I needn’t have worried; we were warmly welcomed with hugs and smiles, bits of cheese, samples of olives and chunks of bread. The bustle of the shoppers, the raucous calls of the fish vendors and the bright colors of the fruits and vegetables energized the market. Inspired by the meals we had eaten since our arrival and by the limited resources in my Sicilian kitchen, I’ve decided to try to live, cook and eat simply for the next eight weeks.

We would begin with a market breakfast. I chose three pale yellow pears touched with pink blush, red strawberries in a bright blue container, three blood oranges with garnet red splotched flesh and three lemons still sporting green leaves. After we had found a loaf of crusty bread, a jar of orange blossom honey and fresh ricotta and yogurt we headed home for a late morning treat. Here’s how I made it:

 Creamy Ricotta with Fruit

I used a fork to combine a half a cup of ricotta with two tablespoons of vanilla yogurt and a teaspoon of honey. When the cheese mixture was smooth, I made fruit parfaits by alternating the ricotta mixture with layers of diced pear, blood orange and strawberries. Combined with the sunshine, a chunk of bread dripping with honey, the roar of the crashing surf and the warm Mediterranean breeze, breakfast was simply perfect.

Download and print creamy ricotta & fruit recipe with an ingredients list here.

Friday we spent the day deciphering bus routes, schedules and tickets so that we could get to the Super Mercato to buy a small toaster oven to go with our very simple, three burner cook top, the small fridge, and the non-existent electric mixer, toaster, blender and food processor. At the end of a long, wet, rainy afternoon we unpacked the oven and walked to the closest pizzeria for dinner.

Saturday, with a clear head and a lovely sunny day, I was ready to make dinner. Vegetables, cheese, fresh tomato paste made with sundried tomatoes and olive oil, all from the open air market, was all I needed to make pasta primavera. Here’s how I did it:

Pasta Primavera

I began the sauce by knocking clumps of mud from the roots of one very large scallion, discarded the top twenty inches of ragged greens and cut the rest into thin slices. I sauteed it over medium heat in two tablespoons of olive oil, added one clove of garlic, one small zucchini cut in quarter-inch dice, four minced black olives and a handful of flat leaf parsley. When the vegetables were soft, I added two tablespoons of sun dried tomato paste, reduced the heat and cooked it for three more minutes.

I quartered six small plum tomatoes and grated a quarter of a cup of ricotta salata cheese while I waited for the large pot of the water to come to a boil. While half a pound of pasta cooked, I added the tomatoes to the sauce and turned the heat to low. I reserved a cup of the salty pasta water before I drained the al dente spaghetti. I raised the heat to medium, stirred two thirds of a cup of the pasta water into the vegetable mixture and used a wooden spoon to combine the thick tomato paste and vegetables with the water to create a tomato sauce. I added the drained pasta and stirred to coat the noodles with the sauce. Topped with freshly grated ricotta salata, dinner was ready.

This recipe is very forgiving, an exercise in Sicilian simplicity. I used zucchini, but mushrooms, bell pepper, or celery could be substituted. When I don’t have sun dried tomato paste, I use either tomato paste that comes in a tube, like toothpaste, or canned tomato paste, preferably Italian. Pasta water, scooped from the pot just before the noodles are drained, is the secret ingredient. It’s difficult to give an exact quantity.  You need “enough, until it’s just right.” Fiorina, my son Noah’s Italian great-grandmother, said many years ago when I asked, “How much do I add to the pan?” “Look and taste, you will know!” she assured me. So, scoop out a cup of water just before you drain the noodles, add a bit, look and taste and you will know when it is enough. Ciao!

Download and print pasta primavera recipe with an ingredients list here.

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