Ah, summers in New York! Makes me think of sticky nights (hugging a fan by an open window), the squeal of neighbors splashing in open fire hydrants, and the pervasive ditty of the ice cream truck. Yes, summer in New York makes me think of the ice cream truck, and with good reason — they are everywhere. Whether it’s the quintessential truck of our childhoods, … Continue reading cassata.
The holidays are many things, some wonderful, some less so. But always, as another year draws to an end, I find they are a moment of reflection. Much has happened in the ¡dpm! household this year. Happy things — we got married! — and sadder ones — I lost my last living grandparent, my abuelita. I learned a great many things from my abuelita, and … Continue reading turrón de quaker.
No trip to Argentina would be complete without a trip to El Pan de Azucar — that charming little bakery off the beautiful cobble-stoned Plaza General San Martin in Córdoba — for some colaciones. We can see it now. Glossy stacks of these palm-sized sweets crowd the counters, with their colorful packaging and handwritten signs that make us ache. It’s been two years now since … Continue reading colaciones.
Easter in my Italo-Argentinean household was unlike that of my friends, growing up. There were no basketfuls of plastic pastel eggs, nestled among shiny strands of green, no pink bunnies with pinker nubs for noses, no neon-colored peeps. There were no hunts for brightly colored jelly beans or tiny chocolates wrapped in crinkly purple and blue. That’s not to say we lacked for sweets (no … Continue reading pansitos para pascua.
We recently acquired the Alice B. Toklas cookbook, and haven’t been able to put it down. It’s full of satisfying stories and imaginative recipes, both delicious. Tales of two World Wars, France, the US in the ’30s, Gertrude Stein. It’s just delightful. We’re only sorry to not have come to it sooner. We’ve come to the chapter titled Treasures, and Alice opens it by asking … Continue reading memories. or, shepherd’s pie & snickers bars.
We can see it now: Clara’s abuela, standing in her cool stone and ceramic kitchen in Córdoba, worn white apron tied around her waist, slowly, ever so slowly, patiently, ever so patiently, pouring a steady, remarkably steady, thin stream of sparkling white sugar into a bowlful of mountainous egg whites. She makes it seem effortless, and in some ways it is, having done it so … Continue reading torta de merengue.
Late October brings an interesting addition to stands heaped with orange squashes and red apples at the Greenmarkets in New York: a strange green fruit, seemingly under-ripened, knobby and oddly leathery, with just the faintest unidentifiable smell of sweetness. Few farmers carry this elusive fruit, and finding one is an annual mission of ours. The fruit is quince, or membrillo. And we got lucky last … Continue reading dulce de membrillo (quince paste).