Blueberries are ripe for the picking, and last Sunday was a perfect day to find a pick-your-own blueberry patch.

My placid, morning routine of brewing a pot of tea, enjoying a cup of yogurt and a fresh scone while reading the newspaper changed last Thursday when Gracie came to live with us.

Busy, busy.

Gracie, a nine-week old golden retriever puppy, is many things, but placid in the morning is not one of them. … read more

We had plans with our Vermont friend, Jim, when we returned to Ortigia on Friday. Jim leaves Thetford every January to spend four months in Ortigia. He had guests visiting from Norwich, Vermont and they arrived at our apartment at six for music, conversation, wine and tasty bits from the market. Marcia Cassidy and her son David Horak brought their violins and treated us to a concert of Vivaldi, Bartok and other classical violin duets. The music was divine.

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:

… read more

It rained all day yesterday, a cold, gray, ‘can’t go out to play’ rain. I finished reading a mystery set in Victorian England, began reading a book set in Singapore in the mid 1940’s, played games with Matthew and Charles, and tried to comprehend what was happening in Japan via  an extraordinarily slow internet connection. Charles picked up a pizza for dinner and I went to sleep hoping that Monday would bring lots of sunshine and good news.

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: … read more

The negozio alimentare or ‘shop of food’ closest to our apartment is the source of ciabatta. Ciabatta is a broad, flat, crusty loaf of bread. It is also the Italian word for slipper – perhaps Gepetto used his carpentry skills and two loaves of stale ciabatta to make slippers for Pinocchio.  Fresh from the market, sliced horizontally, topped with cheese, slices of tomato and a few drops of oil, it is the perfect foundation for a mid-day sandwich. When I want garlic bread, I slice it, smear it with a mixture of olive oil, minced fresh garlic, dried oregano and ground black pepper and toast it in the oven. I make “toasterless” toast by sautéing it in butter until golden.

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: … read more