Anna Sultana's Minestrone with Garlic Croutons and Garden Soup / Christmases Past by Margaret Ullrich

Minestrone

In only a couple of days it will be 2022.
Another year is coming to a close, with its good and bad.
True, Covid-19 and its newest variant - with the potential for more variants - haven’t gone away.
But we have vaccines, we’re doing all we can to prevent the spread, and it will eventually run its course, just like other pandemics have.
So, on to 2022! We can do it!!

Along with our health, Covid-19 has been affecting the supply chains of just about everything.
When we couldn’t find old favourites, or even staples, on the shelves in our grocer’s, we’ve had to make some changes in our usual menu plans.
There’s been talk of food prices going up even more in 2022.

Sounds like it’s time to pull out the soup recipes.
Soup give us a chance to use up every bit of our vegetables, along with getting us extra value from the occasional roast's bone.
It’s like getting two meals for the price of one, or two half-price meals.
Either way you prefer to look at soup, it’s a budget’s best friend.


Italians and Maltese have been making minestrone for centuries.
As a result there are many variations, such as:

Rice and Pea Minestrone
Substitute chicken broth for beef broth.

Add 20 ounces frozen peas
.
Substitute 1/2 Cup white rice for the macaroni.

Minestrone con Carne
When you’re cooking the onion add
1/2 pound ground beef
Cook until the meat is browned.

Another good soup is Escarole and Little Meatballs Soup - Minestra.

If you’d like to serve a soup as a first course with a non-Italian meal then the Garden Soup recipe would be perfect.

Wishing you health, peace, joy and everything good in 2022!


Hints:

About the Minestrone…
If you have a bit more time and a bag of dried chick peas you can use them.
Place in a bowl
1 Cup dried chick peas
enough cold water to cover by 2 inches
Let stand for 4 hours, or overnight, in the refrigerator.
If the chick peas appear above water level, add more water.

Drain the chick peas and place them in a pot with fresh water to cover by 1/2 inch.
Over low heat, bring to a simmer.
Cover the pot and simmer about 1 hour.
If the chick peas appear above water level, add more water.
When the chick peas are soft, drain and use as canned.


About the Garden Soup…
Don’t have a ham bone? You can use beef, lamb or poultry bones.
In a rush? Store-bought broth would do nicely.

If you prefer, you can leave out the salt pork or bacon and use 3 Tablespoons oil.
Instead of fresh spinach you can use thawed frozen spinach.
If you have fresh, use a few leaves each of mint, marjoram, basil, rosemary, and thyme.
Instead of the green or wax beans you can substitute fresh shell beans or 1/2 Cup dried navy beans prepared as you would the chick peas.



                                                               Minestrone and Garlic Croutons

Serves 8 to 12

Chop

1 medium yellow onion

Slice
1 Cup celery
1 Cup carrots
1 Cup zucchini

Finely shred
2 Cups cabbage

Drain and rinse
1 (1 pound 4 ounce) can chick peas


Place in a Dutch oven

2 Tablespoons olive oil
1 Tablespoon garlic powder
1/4 Cup dried parsley
the chopped onion
Cook, stirring frequently, over low heat, until the onion is soft but not brown.

Add
4 Cups beef broth
1 28 oz. can crushed tomatoes
the sliced celery and carrots
the shredded cabbage
the prepared chick peas
1 teaspoon dried basil, sage or oregano
Cover and bring to a boil.
Reduce heat and simmer 30 minutes, or until vegetables are tender.
Add
1 Cup elbow macaroni
the sliced zucchini
Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 12 minutes or until the macaroni is tender.
Season with salt and pepper
Ladle into soup bowls.
Top with
the garlic croutons
grated Parmesan or Romano cheese

Some crusty bread and a salad would round out the meal nicely.

Garlic Croutons

Cut into cubes
8 to 12 thick slices Italian bread
Place on a cookie sheet
Toast in a 300ºF oven until the cubes are dry but not browned.
Place in a skillet
1/4 Cup olive oil
1 teaspoon garlic powder
the toasted cubes
Heat and stir until they are golden brown.


                                                               Garden Soup

4 to 6 servings

Chop
2 onions
3 stalks celery
1/2 pound fresh spinach or other greens

Peel and dice
2 carrots

Put in a large stockpot
1 ham bone
Cover with water, and simmer over medium heat for 1 hour.

While the bone is simmering, place in a frying pan
1/4 Cup chopped salt pork or bacon
Cook over low heat until the fat is released.
Add
1 clove garlic, minced
several sprigs parsley
the chopped onions and celery
the diced carrots
Sauté lightly, without browning.

Remove the ham bone from the pot and skim any fat from the broth.
Cut off any bits of meat from the ham bone and return them to the pot.
Add the onion and carrot mixture to the broth and simmer for 1 hour.
Add
1 Cup green or wax beans, frozen or fresh
1 teaspoon basil
1 teaspoon rosemary
1 teaspoon thyme
1/2 teaspoon mint
1/2 teaspoon marjoram
4 large tomatoes, peeled and diced
the prepared spinach or other greens
1 Cup pureed winter squash or pumpkin
Simmer for 30 minutes.
Season with
salt and pepper
Taste and adjust seasoning
Serve hot, with a sprinkling of grated cheese.

                                                            ~~~

This was a holiday piece I wrote a few years ago for the CKUW radio show ‘2000 & Counting’ when we decided to chat about past Christmases… both good and bad.

I wish you all a very happy holiday season full of peace, health, joy and love.
And, of course, favourite foods.
Let's not forget television specials and Christmas music.

For those who don't know the story, the Christmas carol Silent Night was written in the nineteenth century because of a problem.      
In a small Austrian church the organ was broken and couldn't be repaired in time for the Christmas Eve Mass. So, in a couple of hours, Joseph Mohr and Franz Gruber created a simple song that could be played on the guitar.
It was called the song from heaven.
      
On Christmas Eve in 1914, the German soldiers singing Silent Night brought a touch of humanity to World War l. The British soldiers responded with another carol, The First Noel. For a few hours, peace returned, thanks to music.


The first year I was on the CKUW radio show 2000 & Counting, Older and Wiser I prerecorded our two holiday shows. That year the holidays occurred on Tuesday, the day we usually broadcasted, and we wanted to be home.
I taped each person telling a story and their favourite Christmas carol recording.
The segments filled the two hours easily.

Normally we did our shows live and, as our listeners knew, we did make mistakes. 
With prerecording, we were able to edit them. We sounded pretty good.

      
Maybe that's the problem with modern life.
We hear recordings and see shows that have had dozens of retakes.
Sometimes they show the bloopers.
It's pretty funny to see that even big stars make mistakes.
But, most of the time, all we only see a smoothly running show where everyone always says the right thing, the dinner is cooked to perfection and all problems are resolved with everybody hugging each other within a half an hour.

It can leave one feeling like he's been cheated or that he should try harder.


The first Christmas was a stinker.  Being in a big city with no available rooms is not fun. Add to that Mary was about to have her first baby in a barn with just a carpenter there to help.
I don't think any Christmas has ever gone according to plan.
And maybe Christmas just isn't supposed to be perfect.


A first Christmas away from all that's familiar can be rough.
Our first married Christmas was a big change.
Paul and I are originally from New York City.  Tons of people.
I came from a huge family - a first generation immigrant family.
My parents and their siblings couldn't get enough of each other.     
But, there we were in 1972, all alone in Surrey, British Columbia.
The two of us in a basement apartment watching Perry Como's Christmas Special.
It was something from home for us.
This was in the days before Skype. We hadn't seen our relatives for six months.    
When we watched Perry Como, it was good to know our folks were watching it, too.
For an hour, we were all together.
Then we went to bed for a long winter's nap.
     
The next morning we awoke hearing our puppy happily yelping and splashing in water.
No, he wasn't in a basin or a tub.
     
Surrey in those days was very rural. 
There were open drainage ditches running along the lengths of the residential blocks. The ditch in front of our house had gotten plugged. The rain had soaked our lawn and was seeping through three walls of our apartment. We were rapidly being flooded.

We piled things onto our bed.
The folks upstairs helped us carry everything else into their apartment.
Within a half hour water covered about two feet of our first Christmas tree.
We were safe and dry upstairs, sharing a cup of coffee.
Then we heard our phone ringing.
My folks had said they would call on Christmas Day.
If we didn't answer they phone, they would worry.
This was in the days before cell phones.
Our only phone was on the table in our apartment.
Our flooded apartment.

We braved the icy water and the risk of electrocution to answer the phone.
We wished my folks a Merry Christmas.
Keeping our teeth from chattering, we made small talk.
No mention of of our apartment suddenly becoming a wading pool.
What would've been the point of worrying them?


Living in British Columbia is just a memory.   
Perry Como's Christmas Specials are just a memory.
My parents, also, are just a memory.
But thanks to memories, we can enjoy a Christmas from the past.


During the holidays people often feel a bit down.
If this is your first Christmas after a major loss or change, be gentle with yourself.
Forget 'the rules'. Do what will make it easier for you.

It won't be perfect.
So what?
It will be real… another Christmas memory.

Anna Sultana's Lemon Berry Pavlova / Would Santa Ever Find Me? by Margaret Ullrich

      Happy Holidays, everyone.
Wishing you all the blessings of the season:
a Christmas filled with all you hold dear
and a New Year filled with all the best!
~ Margaret

Okay… we’ve been told to cut back on our socializing so we can ‘starve’ Omicron.
But that doesn’t mean we have to starve ourselves.

If the sight of the fruitcake will just remind you of how different this Christmas is going to be compared to what you had planned, well, then, it’s time to make something different that doesn’t have all the memories baggage.
Let the fruitcake age for another year.
 
Pavlova is something a little different for many, but it looks like you’re saying
Damn it all, we’re going to celebrate!
Pavlova is a large round meringue base which has a crispy, crunchy crust on the outside and a soft, sticky centre.
The centre is filled with fruit curd or yogurt or whipped cream or ice cream, and can be topped with fruit. 


Hints:

About the meringue…
Since plastic absorbs oil, avoid using a plastic bowl.
Consider wiping the bowl with white vinegar, rise and dry thoroughly.
If your bowl is even a little wet or has a trace of oil the whites won't aerate properly and the pavlova will sink in the middle like an omelet. Not good.

Avoid letting any egg yolk into the whites as a drop of yolk can also deflate it.

If you don’t want to make the curd, then you won’t need egg yolks.
Packaged egg whites is perfect for pavlova.
For substituting:
1 large egg white is 1 fluid oz = 2 tablespoons
2 large egg whites = 1/4 Cup
For this recipe you’ll need
4 large egg whites = 1/2 Cup

Just so you know:
1 Large Egg Yolk = 1 tablespoon
Two egg whites, or 1/4 cup fat-free egg substitute, can replace 1 whole egg

If you over-beat the egg whites it will not expand as much in the oven.
If the whites start to look lumpy instead of glossy and smooth, they’re over-beaten.

Some think you get a better meringue if you whisk it by hand.
You can use an electric mixer to make the meringue.
The main rule is to work quickly.
After you stop beating, try to get it in the oven within 5 minutes.

Meringue expands in the oven, so build the meringue upward, not outward.
Meringue has a tendency to crack, especially from shifts in temperature.
Avoid an abrupt temperature change by letting the meringue cool in the oven.
You’ll most likely get some cracks, but that's okay.


About the Lemon Curd Filling…
Use a rubber spatula to stir the filling as it cooks so you don't aerate the mixture.
You can pass the filling through a strainer if you want, but it's not necessary.


About the Blueberry Sauce…
After you’ve removed it from the heat you can pass it through a fine mesh strainer.
The fresh fruit is lumpy, too, so I don’t think it’s worth the bother.





                                                               Lemon Blueberry Pavlova
6 servings

Lemon Curd Filling

Cut into small pieces
1/2 Cup unsalted butter
Set aside.

Separate the eggs, placing the yolks in a heat-proof bowl that will fit in a saucepan, and the whites in a large mixer bowl.
4 large eggs
Cover the egg whites and set them aside to let them come to room temperature.

Add to egg yolks
2 Tablespoons lemon zest
1 pinch salt
1/2 Cup white sugar
1/4 Cup lemon juice
Beat until thoroughly combined.

Place 2 inches of water in a saucepan.
Bring to a simmer over low heat.
Place the heat-proof bowl of filling over the simmering water.
Cook, stirring, until the mixture is thick enough to coat a spoon, 10 to 15 minutes.


Stir in butter, 3 or 4 pieces at a time, waiting until butter has melted before adding more.
Remove bowl from heat and pour the filling into another bowl to cool, about 15 minutes.
Place a piece of plastic wrap on top of the filling, pressing down so that it doesn't develop a skin, and place the bowl in the refrigerator for 2 to 3 hours.


Meringue

Line a baking sheet with a silicone liner or parchment paper
Lightly spray with cooking spray

Place in small bowl
1 Cup white sugar
1 Tablespoon cornstarch
Mix and set aside.

With a large whisk, beat the reserved egg whites.
Continue until frothy, then add
1 pinch cream of tartar
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
Whisk until very soft peaks form, about 3 minutes.
Whisk in sugar mixture, 2 tablespoons at a time, whisking about 1 minute between each addition, until all the sugar has been added.
Continue to whisk until stiff peaks form and the whites can hold their shape.

Preheat the oven to 250º F 


Spoon the whites onto the prepared baking sheet, forming a circle about 8 or 9 inches across, then add more meringue around the edges to form a bowl shape.


Bake in the centre of the preheated oven for 1 hour, then turn off the oven and slightly open the door and leave it open.
Let the meringue sit in the oven until it is cooled completely, about 1 hour.


Blueberry Sauce

Place in a saucepan
1 Cup blueberries
2 Tablespoons white sugar
1/2 Cup cold water
Cook over medium heat and bring to a simmer.
Cook, stirring occasionally, until the liquid thickens, about 10 minutes.
Remove from heat and place in the refrigerator until fully chilled, about 45 minutes.


Carefully transfer the cooled meringue to a serving platter.
Fill the centre with the chilled lemon curd filling.
Place over the curd
1/2 Cup or more fresh blueberries, or mixed berries

Drizzle blueberry sauce over each serving 
Garnish with fresh mint (optional)

                                                            ~~~
In 2004 I wrote this story and read it on our CKUW radio show '2000 & Counting - Older & Wiser'. For a few years it was our annual tradition. 
I got a few e mails asking if I could post the original story.
Here it is… Merry Christmas!

Change follows us from the cradle to the grave. When I was five years old I was hit with a megadose of change - I moved to another town, got a baby sister, got to go to kindergarten and got Santa Claus.
     
Five years earlier my parents and I had emigrated from Malta to New York and settled in Corona.  We didn't have much choice.  Five of Pop's brothers and sisters lived in Corona. So, we had to live in Corona, too.  
     
Corona was a little slice of Italy on Long Island.  The store clerks were bilingual: English and Italian.  The grocery stores in Corona were stocked with Italian necessities.  Almost everything in all the other stores had been imported from Italy.  
Corona was where we learned how to be Americans.  
     
Nonni's children, Betty and Angelo, had married two of Pop's siblings, Joe and Helen.  So, Nonni was a double Grandma in my family.  Since all my grandparents were in Malta, Nonni treated me as a grandchild, too.      
     
Every Christmas Eve we gathered at Uncle Joe and Aunt Betty's home.  A whole corner of their living room was filled with Nonni's manger scene.  It was not just a shed with Mary, Joseph, three kings and one shepherd standing around Baby Jesus.  Nonni had a complete village with houses, trees, hills, paths, ponds and animals.  There were people walking around just minding their own business.  Some of the figures were really old and we couldn't play with them.  But each year Nonni added something new: a woman carrying a basket of eggs, a farmer carrying a head of cabbage, a man carrying a bundle of wood.  Nonni’s manger scene was better than any store window on 5th Avenue in Manhattan.
     
Dinner was a feast.  Fish was traditional - eel for the parents, bluefish for the children.  There was also soup, pasta and vegetables, followed by ricotta pie, anise biscotti, pizzelle and cuccidati cookies, strufoli, creamy roasted chestnuts and torrone candy.  My favourite was the huge golden mound of strufoli: tiny doughnut balls covered with honey and multi-coloured sprinkles.  After dinner we played games and our parents talked until it was time to walk to the Midnight Mass at St. Leo's.  After Mass we returned to Uncle Joe's for some panettone, a holiday bread made with butter, raisins, almonds and citron.

Then Nonni would tell us to look at the manger scene for the surprise.  The blessed Bambino, Baby Jesus, had suddenly appeared!
     
Christmas Eve was a wonderful night.  But the big day for us children was January sixth.  The night before we had hung our stockings and waited for La Befana to bring us toys.  
     

For those unfamiliar with the story, La Befana was a little old lady who had been sweeping her house when the Wise Men knocked on her door.  They were looking for Baby Jesus and asked La Befana for directions.  They then invited La Befana to join them.  The old woman refused, saying she had work to do.
     
When it was dark, a great light and angels appeared in the sky.  La Befana realized that the Wise Men weren't kidding about somebody special being born that night.  Broom in hand, La Befana tried to catch up with the Wise Men.  She never found them or Baby Jesus.  Every year she searches for Baby Jesus and leaves presents for good little boys and girls.  
     

La Befana took care of me for four years.  Then we moved to College Point so we could live closer to Lily Tulip where Pop worked.  Then it was time for my sister to be born.  While Ma was in the hospital I stayed with Aunt Betty, Uncle Joe and their daughters, MaryAnn and Carol Lynn.  It was nice living in Corona again.  The next day, Nonni diNoto took me to the local 5 and 10 and gave me a quarter.      
"Buy for sister."       
I didn't have any idea what a baby sister would want.  I liked westerns, so I grabbed a toy gun.      
"No.  Buy a rattle."    
A rattle?  That sounded boring, but I bought a pink plastic rattle.  
     
In those days children were not allowed to visit anyone in the hospital.  When Aunt Betty visited Ma, she gave the rattle to my new sister.  I waited outside the hospital and waved to the window of Ma's room.  When Aunt Betty returned she had a gift from my new sister for me: three pieces of chocolate.  
     
Well, wasn't that nice of her.  Not as nice as a toy gun, but maybe that was all she could get from where she'd been.    
     

After Rose was born we didn't go to Corona as often.  It was easier to walk to the local church instead of driving to St. Leo's.  I missed seeing my family.  
     
That September I started kindergarten in St. Fidelis School.  Some of the good sisters had wanted to travel and meet exotic heathens in far away places.  Well, they almost got their wish.  I was the first Maltese child they'd ever seen.  College Point had been settled by Irish and German families.  It was time for me to learn about America through their eyes.  
     
As Christmas approached, the windows of the German bakeries were filled with the most beautiful cookies I'd ever seen.  They were in all kinds of shapes: stars, angels, animals and wreaths.  They were decorated with coconut, jam, icing and tiny silver balls.  Some of my classmates brought in samples of their mothers' baking.  I brought some biscotti.  My friends were polite and tasted the dry, double-baked bread.  Then we ate the lebkuchen, pfeffernuesse, zimtsterne, and jam filled spitzbuben.  The stollen reminded me of panettone.     
I thought a German Christmas was delicious. I planned to eat German and Italian holiday food every Christmas for the rest of my life.

We helped Sister decorate the Christmas tree with sugar cookies which had been twisted into figure eights. Then Sister told us to gather around her. She was going to read us a story. Sister showed us the picture of Santa Claus and his eight reindeer. My friends were delighted.
     
I was confused.  
     
I had never heard any of this before.  Santa was supposed to slide down a chimney and land in a fireplace.  We didn't have a fireplace.  We had a huge, oil-burning furnace in the basement.  Ma hung our stockings, along with all the other wet laundry, on a clothesline near the furnace.  It made awful noises and had fire in it.  If Santa landed in it he'd fry like a strufoli.  That would end Christmas forever.  I didn't think Santa would take such a risk for a total stranger.  The lovely cookies felt like lead in my stomach.
     
Sister talked about Santa checking his list of good little girls and boys.  Santa had a list?  I knew we were on the Registered Aliens list.  Every January the TV reminded Ma to fill out green cards so we wouldn't go to jail or Malta.  How could I get on Santa's list?  Could Santa get my name from the Alien list?  Did I need to fill out another card?  
     
The afternoon went from bad to worse.  Sister told us we could put our letters to Santa in the special mailbox in the classroom.  A letter?  What language did Santa speak?  He'd never heard from me.  I wasn't on his list.  What could I say?  
     
"Hi, you don't know me, but I'd like some toys."  I'd never written a letter to La Befana.  She just gave me toys.  Would Santa shoot La Befana if she came to College Point?  Oh, boy… I was in big trouble.     
     
In kindergarten we learned about God the Father, about how we should pray to Him and tell Him what we needed.  I didn't need another Father.  I figured if my Pop was always busy working, this guy who took care of everything in the whole wide world would really never have time for me.
     
I needed a Grandma.
     
The next time we went to Corona I told Nonni about Santa Claus and that he was in charge of Christmas in College Point.  Nonni listened patiently as I explained the rules.
     
She repeated the main points, "Santa Claus.  A letter."     
I nodded.    
"I fix.  I write letter to Befana.  She give to Santa.  No hard feelings.  Christmas come."
     
I had my doubts.  Nonni had never been to College Point.  Maybe nobody ever had to change from La Befana to Santa Claus.  Maybe Christmas was lost forever, like some of the packages we never got from Malta.
     
On Christmas Eve we all gathered at Uncle Joe and Aunt Betty's home in Corona.  We had the Christmas Eve dinner.  Then we went to St. Leo's for the Midnight Mass.  Everything was familiar.  Latin and Italian.  Why couldn't we have stayed there?  
     
When we were leaving the church I saw a pale cloud in the sky.  It looked long and thin, with a sort of lump on one end.  For a moment I thought it looked like Santa and his sleigh with eight tiny reindeer.  I kept looking at that cloud.  It followed us from the church to Uncle Joe's house, where we had panettone.  When we left, the cloud was still there.  I watched from the car.  The cloud followed us from Corona to College Point.  
     
I never noticed clouds before.  Did clouds always follow people from one town to another?  Was it really a cloud?  Sister had told us that Santa had millions of helpers, tiny people called elves.  Could it have been an elf picking up the letter from La Befana?
     
Christmas morning, Pop was eating breakfast while Ma was cleaning Rose.  Ma sent me to the basement to get some dry diapers that were hanging by the furnace.  Being a big sister wasn't much fun.  I pulled down two diapers.  Then I noticed some lumps by the furnace.  I thought some clothes had fallen off the line.  I walked toward the furnace.  
     
But the lumps weren't clothes.  
They were boxes.  
They were wrapped.  
They were presents!  
They were for me!!

Santa had found me.

Anna Sultana's Fettuccine Alla Alfredo and Cacio e Pepe / Muriel’s Christmas by Margaret Ullrich

Cacio e Pepe

Who doesn’t remember that scene in the movie The Holiday, when, after Miles (Jack Black) has listened to Iris (Kate Winslet) recite her tale of woe, he masterfully takes control of the situation and announces that he is going to make them some Fettuccine Alla Alfredo because
We’re going to celebrate being young and being alive!
Wow!! Be still my heart!

Okay… we’re not all young, but we are alive and we need to celebrate, too.
We’ve just been told to take extra precautions so that we can ‘starve’ Omicron.
Basically we’re being asked to reduce social contacts to create circuit breakers.
So we’ll have to re-think our holiday plans.
Trudeau said he believes that, despite widespread pandemic fatigue, Canadians will do what it takes because they are now "empowered with knowledge”.

Yeah, well, the news isn’t great and we’re tired of the restrictions, but we’ve followed the rules before and we can do it again.
 
A few years ago I posted two of Ma’s recipes for Fettuccine Alfredo.
It’s an old recipe and has a few variations, including the one below, which is a little easier.
It is a week before Christmas and we’re getting tired from all the holiday preparations, too.

If you have Romano instead of Parmesan cheese you can make Cacio e Pepe.
Cacio e Pepe, which means cheese and pepper, is a simple Roman dish of pasta, Pecorino Romano cheese, and black pepper.
Some say Parmesan can be used in place of some or all of the Romano.
Use what you have and like.
Don't make an extra trip to the store just for the cheese.


Back to that movie, The Holiday.
I don’t know what exactly Kate Winslet and Jack Black were eating.
Whichever recipe they used, they felt better after eating it.
And, whichever version you choose, you’ll feel better, too.

Stay safe and well!


Hints:

If you have leftover whipping cream you could make more sauce and freeze it.

Freezable Alfredo Sauce (Makes 2 1/2 cups)

Place in bowl
1 1/4 Cups whipping cream

1 Cup chicken broth

1 teaspoon cornstarch

1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg
Stir together, then set aside.

Place in medium pan

1 Tablespoon olive oil
Heat oil over medium heat.
Add

4 cloves garlic, minced
Cook and stir for 30 seconds.
Add broth mixture.
Cook and stir until thickened and bubbly, then cook and stir for 2 minutes more.
Stir in
1/2 Cup grated Parmesan cheese
Serve at once over hot cooked pasta.

You can also divide the cooled mixture among 1/2-cup storage container.
Cover and refrigerate for up to 3 days, or freeze for up to 3 months.
If frozen, thaw overnight in refrigerator.
To serve, put desired amount of sauce in pan.
Heat and serve over hot cooked pasta.

About the Cacio e Pepe…
You don’t need to get all of the water off the pasta when you drain it. The excess water will help loosen the paste and make a smoother sauce.

When you make the cheese paste use very cold or ice water. It will help to make a smoother sauce, since the cheese won’t start to melt until it is on the hot pasta.


                                                               Fettuccine Alla Alfredo

Serves 6 to 8

In a large pot place
4 quarts water
salt to taste
Bring to a boil.
Add
1 pound fettuccine
Cook, stirring frequently, until the pasta is al dente.
Drain and return to the pot or to a warm serving platter.

Place in a small pot
1/2 Cup butter or margarine
Melt over low heat.
Set aside.

Place in a small bowl
2 egg yolks, beaten
1/2 Cup whipping cream
Blend, then slowly beat in the melted butter or margarine.

Pour the butter / cream mixture over the fettuccine.
With a large serving fork and spoon lift and turn the pasta to coat it with the butter mixture.

Sprinkle over the pasta
1/2 to 1 Cup grated Parmesan cheese
Blend thoroughly.
Sprinkle over the pasta
1/2 teaspoon pepper
Serve immediately with Parmesan cheese available to add.


                                                               Cacio e Pepe

Serves 4 to 6

Finely grate
5 ounces Pecorino Romano cheese, enough to get about 2 1/2 cups.
Transfer 1/2 cup grated cheese to a small bowl to serve as garnish.

Coarsely grind enough black pepper to get
1 1/2 to 2 tablespoons coarsely ground black pepper

In a large pot place
4 quarts water
salt to taste
Bring to a boil.
Add
1 pound spaghetti or fettuccine
Cook, stirring frequently, until the pasta is al dente.
Drain, reserving 1 cup of the water.

While the pasta is cooking, place in a large serving bowl
2 Cups of the grated Romano cheese
1 tablespoon of the ground black pepper
Using a fork, blend the cheese and pepper together.
Stir in
1/3 Cup cold water
Press the mixture against the sides of the bowl to form a lump-free paste.
Add the cooked pasta to the cheese mixture.
Working quickly, use the same fork to toss the pasta with the cheese paste.
Add 1 tablespoon of the reserved pasta water at a time to loosen the paste until it evenly coats the pasta in a creamy sauce. You won’t need to use all of the water.

Serve immediately with additional grated cheese and black pepper.

                                                            ~~~

This was a holiday piece I wrote a few years ago for the CKUW radio show ‘2000 & Counting’ when we decided to chat about family holiday dinners. 
Being politically correct - and politically sensitive - was just starting around the turn of the century.
It was and is still a part of menu planning.

The family that eats a holiday dinner together… can still be in for a whole lot of trouble.


My friend Muriel still hasn't recovered from last Christmas.

The poor dear had tried to please everybody. Solomon couldn't have pulled that off. Muriel was willing to go with the flow, but she was caught in a tsunami. Her husband Tom is a simple man with simple tastes. He just wanted a roasted bird with stuffing and cranberry sauce.

He should never have had children.

Their eldest daughter, Donna, keeps up with trends. Muriel had asked Donna to bring the appetizers. Muriel expected their traditional celery sticks with cream cheese, crackers and cheese cubes. Donna waltzed in with an oriental party pack and assorted seafood and chicken wing platters. Something for everyone. Uh, huh.
Tom backed off when he saw the egg rolls. "I don't like Chinese."
Donna said, "I got you BBQ chicken wings."
Ignoring her, Tom said, "They don't serve bread." He went to the kitchen for bread.


Then Betty arrived. Betty lives in a commune and supports the rights of everything and everybody… except those of the hostess. Betty always carried tofu because she never ate dairy products or anything with eyes or eggs. Muriel had prepared a nice salad for Betty. Not good enough.
"Were the pickers paid a decent wage?"
"The lettuce had a union label."
"I only eat organically grown food. Did they use manure."
"We had to scrub the carrots with bleach to get the E coli off."
"Oh... okay."
Tom heard E coli and reached for another slice of bread.


Finally their son Bill arrived with his wife Carol and their children, Krystal and Jason. Bill and Carol had every allergy in the book. Bill also had high cholesterol and Carol had her waistline. They avoided the platters of appetizers and drank the water that they had brought.

Krystal, a tender-hearted child, burst into tears when she saw the chicken wings.
"Oh, those poor birdies. Do you know how they treat chickens, Grandma?"

Muriel figured the birds were better off than she was. They never had to make a holiday dinner for the family. But this was her granddaughter.
"Krystal, dear, these birdies lived in a happy place where they laughed and played and sang songs for a long, long time. Then one day they just went to sleep and, just like butterflies, they turned into chicken wings."
"Oh... okay."
Who says the next generation knows it all?
Tom heard Muriel's tale of the laughing, singing chickens, figured she'd finally lost it, and ate more bread.

Ignored by his elders, Jason gobbled a fistful of seafood appetizers and started wheezing. Muriel packed away the appetizers before her children could start a food fight and led them to the main event.


The table looked like a sailboat regatta that had been designed by Martha Stewart. Every dish had a tiny flag listing all of the ingredients. Muriel did not want to have to call the paramedics again. Krystal cried when she saw the turkey.

When Betty reached for the potatoes, Bill said, "But they have eyes". Betty meant to kick her brother, but got her sister-in-law, Carol, who screamed and kicked back. Muriel yelled at her kids. The holiday dinner was just like always. Damn.

After everyone had eaten what they could, Muriel brought out a carafe of hot cranberry apple cider. This was her gift to herself. Seeing all the different coffees at the supermarket had made her go all whoozie. Whatever happened to plain old coffee, black or with cream? Muriel’s children didn't say a word while visions of cappuccinos, espressos and lattes danced in their heads.

Betty was in charge of the dessert. She had created something that was just what the doctor ordered. No eggs, no cream, no butter, and no taste.
Tom just saw a pumpkin pie and it looked fine. He helped himself to a slice, smiled and thought that Betty was returning to the food of her mother.

But, something tasted... off. Maybe a new spice?
"Betty, what's in this pie," he asked.
"Tofu."
"Geez." Tom reached for the bread.

Jason had wheezed throughout the whole meal.
All in all, it had been just another family holiday get together.


God help Muriel. The holidays are back.

Anna Sultana's Panettone and Gingerbread / Oh, Christmas Tree! by Margaret Ullrich

Panettone

It’s been said that man does not live by bread alone.
Well, sure, a bit of butter - or a dollop of whipped cream for the gingerbread - is always appreciated.

Speaking of bread, it seems every country has a Christmas bread.

There's a legend about Italy’s Christmas bread, Panettone.  
It was created in Milan by a young nobleman named Antonio, who was in love with a baker's daughter.  
He went to work for the baker, whose business was failing. 
Antonio added butter, sugar, candied fruit and eggs to the bread dough.  
People loved the new creation: Pane di Toni or Tony's bread.

Years ago I posted Aunt Betty's recipe for Panettone.
It’s a little bit different from Ma’s recipe.
Why not make both?


Hints:

About the Panettone…
When kneading do not add too much flour.

The dough can be baked in three 1-pound coffee cans, then baked at 400º F for 45 minutes.


About the Gingerbread…
Not all molasses are the same. Those labelled Cooking or Blackstrap are harsh in flavour compared to Fancy molasses.

The batter can also be poured into a greased 9 x 13 inch baking pan, then baked at 325º F for 50 to 60 minutes.

If you’d like to remove the cake from the pan(s) after baking to serve on a platter, line the pan(s) with parchment paper.

If you don’t have dark brown sugar you can use use more light brown sugar in the Caramel Sauce.

The sauce will solidify when chilled, but will liquify again once reheated in the microwave or a small saucepan.




                                                               Panettone

Grease a deep round pan (a 2 1/2 quart pot would be fine)

Heat  to scalding
1/2 Cup milk
Let it stand until it is lukewarm.

Place in a small mixer bowl
1/2 Cup butter or margarine, softened
1/4 Cup sugar
1 teaspoon salt
Beat until creamy.

Pour into a warmed mixing bowl
1/4 Cup warm water
Add
1 Tablespoon yeast
Stir until the yeast is dissolved.
Let sit 10 minutes.
Add the warm milk and the sugar / butter mixture and stir well.

Add
2 large eggs, beaten
2 Cups flour
Beat until smooth.

Blend in
1/4 Cup seedless raisins
1/2 Cup mixed candied fruits
1/4 Cup toasted almonds, chopped
1 Tablespoon lemon extract
Add enough flour to make a soft dough, about 2 cups.

Turn the dough out on a lightly floured surface.
Knead until dough is smooth and elastic.

Put in an oiled bowl, turning the dough to coat it with oil.
Cover with a damp towel and let stand in a warm place away from drafts about 1 1/2 hours, until doubled in bulk.

Punch down the dough and turn out on a board.
Cover with bowl and let rest 10 minutes.
Shape dough in a round loaf and place it in the greased pan.
Cover and let rise in a warm place until doubled, about 1 hour.
Cut an "X" in the top.

Preheat oven to 375º F

Combine
1 egg yolk
1 Tablespoon cold water
Brush egg mixture over the loaf.
Bake 1 hour or until brown.


                                                               Gingerbread

Grease 2 8 inch square pans

Sift together into a medium bowl
2 1/2 Cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon ground ginger
Set aside.

Heat to boiling
1 Cup water
Set aside.

Place in a large mixer bowl
1/2 Cup butter or margarine or 3 ounces oil
1 Cup brown sugar, packed (either light or dark or a mixture of both)
Cream together, about 2 minutes.

Add
1 Cup Fancy molasses
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
Scraping down the sides and bottom of the bowl, blend until well combined.

Place in a medium bowl
the boiling water
Stir in
1 teaspoon baking soda
Add to the molasses mixture.
Stir well to combine.
Add
the dry flour mixture
Stir until well blended.
Add
2 large eggs, well beaten
Mix well.

Preheat oven to 325º F

Pour batter into the prepared pans.
Bake 35 to 45 minutes, until a tester inserted in the centre comes out clean.

Serve warm or cold with lightly sweetened whipped cream.

It also goes nicely with

Caramel Sauce

Place in a medium saucepan
1/2 Cup butter
1/2 Cup light brown sugar, packed
3 Tablespoon dark brown sugar, packed
2/3 Cup heavy whipping cream
1/4 teaspoon salt

Cooking over medium heat, stir until the butter melts and the mixture comes to a boil.
Boil for 4 minutes, or until the sauce coats the back of a spoon.
Use immediately or remove to a bowl, cover, and refrigerate until needed.

                                                            ~~~

For another broadcast of our CKUW radio program ‘2000 & Counting’ we planned to reminisce about when we had gone out into the woods to chop down a Christmas tree.
Yes, this was, and is, a popular Winnipeg Christmas tradition.
And, yes, in Manitoba it can get cold enough to make trees brittle!


God, it was cold.

I didn't know it could get that cold.
I didn't know I'd ever be stupid enough to be outdoors in that kind of cold.
I didn't know I'd been stupid enough to marry someone stupid enough to work with people stupid enough to be out in that kind of cold.

It was December in Winnipeg.

Paul and I had grown up in New York City. There people went to an empty parking lot where the trees had magically appeared, like the pre-wrapped ground beef at the local supermarket. No questions asked. No one wanted to get too personal with an ornament that would be out with the trash in a matter of weeks.

At the New York parking lot we'd browse, find a tree we liked and switch the price tag with the cheaper tree which no one liked. Then we'd carry the tree to the clerk, who gave us the fish eye as he noticed the fullness of such a "good find", sighed and took our money. The whole deal was done in ten minutes. Another Christmas had begun.

Apparently, that isn't good enough for Winnipeggers.
Oh, no, they have to get down and dirty with their holiday bushes.


I'll never forget how happy Paul was when he came home and told me we'd been invited to join his co-workers, a group of Winnipeggers, for a real, old-fashioned Christmas experience. If I'd had a clue I'd have realized that giving birth in a barn, unaided, would've been an easier old-fashioned Christmas experience.
We were going to chop down a real Christmas tree, just like our ancestors.

Well, my parents are from Malta, a sunny Mediterranean island. It just wasn't in my genes to know how to dress for a freezing, miserable, forced march through a blizzard-hit forest. The windchill - which I still didn't understand - was in the exposed skin can freeze in 2 minutes range.

That didn't sound good, so I said, Thanks, but no thanks.

Somehow Paul convinced me that his entire future career prospects, our unborn children's college fund, our grandchildren's lives and our golden years' security and comfort would all go up in smoke if I didn't join in the mighty tree hunt.

His Jewish co-workers were going. Everybody, even that ditzy receptionist who always dressed like a showgirl wannabe with skirts up to there, was going.

So, we were going.

God, it was cold.

I thought I had dressed warmly.
That fink, the ditzy receptionist, showed up looking like the Michelin Man. She was ready to march to the North Pole for the perfect tree, if necessary. So were the three other women co-workers. The other wives - who all knew better - had begged off. One was even pregnant. Or so she said.

I was alone with four career women who were full of the 1970s I am woman, hear me roar career fever. While they talked shop I felt as welcome as a lump of coal in a kid’s Christmas stocking.

The Jewish co-workers - who I had hoped would keep the tree hunt frenzy within limits - had turned into lumberjacks. They were also ready to march to the North Pole for the perfect tree, if necessary.

After walking five minutes I couldn't feel my toes. We hadn't even gotten out of the parking lot. I was doomed.

I didn't know it could get that cold.
We marched. Finally, someone approved of a tree. The men chopped. The tree crashed. The branches that hit the ground broke off the tree.

I said, The bare side could be placed against a wall.

The heat from their glares should have restored my circulation. It didn't. We marched. Someone approved of another tree. The men chopped. The tree crashed. It broke.


God, it was cold.

We were doomed to spend all day wandering like Flying Dutchmen on a quest to find the perfect unbreakable tree. The lot was littered with other broken felled trees. Some trees had landed across their comrades in a criss-cross pattern that looked like a cradle.
A cradle, something soft, something to receive and hold...

Hold it… something to catch a damn tree!

Dripping snot and tears had frozen my mouth shut. If I'd had the equipment I would've written my idea in the snow. I slapped my face trying to restore circulation to my lower jaw. Finally my lips parted. I clutched Paul's arm.

Cradle... tree... cradle, I mumbled and criss-crossed my arms.

The women thought I was pregnant and wanted a homemade cradle. Thank God, months of marriage, misery and love had united Paul's mind to mine. Months of marriage had also taught us that Paul was no carpenter. He knew the homemade cradle idea was bunk. Paul caught on to my pantomime and told the others of my plan.

Someone approved of another tree. It could land on four broken trees. The men chopped. The tree landed on its fallen comrades. It survived.
We marched. Someone approved of another tree. It, too, survived.

Christmas was saved.

God, it was cold.

I didn't know it could get that cold.
I couldn't believe it.

Some fool was planning the next year's tree chopping expedition.

St. Lucia Buns / The First Maltese Lucia Queen by Margaret Ullrich

 

December is just zipping along.
Now we’re getting ready for the feast of Saint Lucia, a fourth-century Italian martyr.
The name Lucia comes from the Latin lux, meaning light, so she became associated with winter solstice festivals and celebrations of light.
It’s a very popular holiday in Sweden and, even if you’re not Swedish, a perfect time to do a bit of celebrating.
Of course it has its own traditions, as mentioned in the story below.

The S-shaped St. Lucia Buns, lussekatter, are sweet rolls traditionally made with saffron.
Well, there are traditions, and then there are traditions.

Saffron has a mildly sweet and grassy flavour, and gives a golden colour to paella, risotto, bouillabaisse, tagines, and Scandinavian breads.
Saffron is not often used in recipes, and you shouldn’t be surprised if your local grocer doesn’t have it.
Saffron costs about $4,000 per pound.
You, and your local grocer, have much better ways of spending $4,000.


In place  of saffron many cooks have substituted safflower, annatto, turmeric and cardamom.
Safflower is called Mexican saffron and gives a similar colour and flavor.
It can be substituted for saffron on a one-to-one basis.

Annatto seeds give a colour which is similar to saffron.
They have a nutty taste which many prefer in some Puerto Rican dishes.

Turmeric, a member of the ginger family, is the most widely used saffron substitute.
Turmeric and saffron have been used in Indian and Middle Eastern recipes as well as for medicinal purposes in some cultures.
Smaller amounts of turmeric should be used in place of saffron.

There’s also a blend which some use as a saffron substitute:
1/2 Tablespoon lemon juice
1/4 Tablespoon cumin
1/4 Tablespoon of chicken stock powder
1 teaspoon turmeric

The St. Lucia buns recipe had 1/2 gram saffron threads, crushed.
That’s 1/8 teaspoon saffron threads.
I used 1/8 teaspoon cardamom.
i didn't get any complaints.
It’s your money. Suit yourself.


Back to Santa Lucia… here are some other traditional recipes:

Cardamom / Sugar & Spice Christmas Blend

Swedish Cardamom Wreath for Saint Lucia Day

Anna Sultana's Santa Lucia Cookies

Anna Sultana's Cinnamon Buns

Anna Sultana’s Almond Cookies

Anna Sultana’s Rice Pudding and Bread and Custard Pudding

Hints:

Don't coil the dough too tightly when making the "S" shapes.
The dough will continue to rise so it needs room to expand.

If you can find it, you could sprinkle the buns with with pearl sugar.
You can also use multi-colour sprinkles. Or not.


                                                               St. Lucia Buns

Makes 36 buns
Lightly grease 3 baking sheets

Have on hand
raisins (you’ll need 2 per bun)

Scald and cool to lukewarm
2 Cups milk

Place in a small bowl
1/4 Cup warm water
1 Tablespoon yeast
Stir and let rest 10 minutes.

Place in another small bowl
1/4 Cup of the cooled milk
1 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon cardamom 

Place in a third small bowl
2 eggs
2/3 Cup sugar
Beat together.

Melt
1/4 Cup butter

Place in a large mixing bowl
the rested yeast mixture, the spiced milk, and the egg/sugar mixture
the remaining 1 3/4 Cups of the cooled milk
Beat on slow to combine the mixtures with the milk.

Slowly beat in
4 Cups flour
1 teaspoon cardamom
Beat on low speed until the batter is smooth and elastic.
Stir in
the melted butter
Add
3 1/2 to 4 Cups flour, enough to form a stiff dough
Turn out onto a floured board and knead until smooth.
Place the dough in a lightly greased bowl, turning to grease the top.
Cover and let rise until doubled, about 1 1/2 hours.
Punch down, cover, and let rise again until doubled, about 1 hour.

Lightly grease 2 - 3 baking sheets.

Divide the dough into four portions.
Roll one portion into a 9 x 6 inch rectangle and cut into 9 1 inch x 6 inch strips.
Working with one strip at a time, roll the strip between your palms to create a 6 inch long rope.
Coil the ends of each rope in opposite directions so that it forms an "S" shaped bun.
Place the 9 buns on a prepared baking sheet.

Repeat with the remaining three portions of dough.

Place a raisin in the centre of each curl, two per bun.
Lightly beat 1 egg and brush each bun with the beaten egg.
Allow to rise for 20 minutes. 

Preheat oven  375º F

Bake 20 to 25 minutes, until golden.
Serve with coffee.

                                                            ~~~

Along with being a co-host for the CKUW radio show ‘2000 & Counting’ from 1999 to 2007, I wrote stories and essays, which I then read live on air.
Back in 2000 I wrote this for our show. 
No, I don’t do any of these seasonal feast celebrations anymore.
At my age I have to conserve my energy for Christmas!

My parents and I immigrated to New York in 1950. A few years later, when I was in school, I asked why we didn't have anything pretty to eat for Christmas. My Ma told me that in Malta, Christmas was a religious celebration. The focus was on God becoming man, not on cookies.

Maltese desserts are simple - fresh fruit and cheese with an occasional cookie. One Maltese cookie, the biskuttini tar rahal, could be described as hardened library paste with a hint of lemon and a dash of royal icing. A variation on the biskuttini cuts the sugar by half and replaces the royal icing with a sprinkling of sesame seeds.  
Both cookies are wonderful teething rings.  

Another favourite is the anise biscotti. The big thrill with a biscotti is seeing how much milk it can suck up before breaking in half and falling into your glass. 
It's like eating the sinking Titanic.  
For the holidays, we borrow from the Sicilians and make kannoli tar-rikotta (ricotta in a fried pastry tube) or a qassata (vanilla custard shmeared over a sponge cake).  
How lame is that?  


I knew my German classmates ended their meals with more oomph. Our parish, St. Fidelis, was a cookie heaven. The most amazing homemade cookies were brought to every church and school function by my friends' Moms. They were rich and gorgeous - the cookies, I mean. They were loaded with spices, fruits, nuts and jams, and were covered with thick layers of frosting and all sorts of sprinkles.  

When my Ma saw the competition she admitted defeat and took over the job of bringing coffee. I was free to eat whatever caught my eye. While I gushed, my friends' Moms all beamed. My friends thought I was nuttier than the cookies.  


My husband is a third generation American - half Swedish and half German. Okay, I was marrying into the Cookie Big Leagues. I thought, along with the change of name, I'd return from my honeymoon a changed woman able to make cookies with a capital ‘C’. To paraphrase the biblical story of Ruth, I believed, What thou eatest, I will eat... thy cookies shall be my cookies...

Well, you get the picture.  Thanks to the movie The Sound of Music, I just knew we'd celebrate Christmas a la von Trapp: sitting beneath a huge, glowing tree,
singing Edelweiss and munching beautiful cookies, my favorite things. Ethnic things.
The ethnic bit nearly ended my marriage.

There's an old German saying: That which really tastes oft us trouble makes.
Now, there's truth in advertising. Clear as a bell, they were warning me to not even go there. If I'd had half a brain I'd have just thrown in the mixing bowl and placed a huge order at the local German bakery for a deluxe assorted cookie platter, with some stollen on the side.

Nope, I didn't take the hint. I studied every German and Swedish cookbook I could find. The biggest surprise was that there were other days that had to be celebrated. Okay, I thought, practice makes perfect. Maybe it's like opening a Broadway show in Boston. I learned about their holiday customs.  

The first Advent biggie was December 6. St. Nicholas' Day. That called for small presents in Paul's shoes and some hot chocolate and buns for breakfast. No problem. The morning went without a hitch.  
Huzzah!! One day I'd bake cookies that looked like jewels!  


I spent more nights baking instead of sleeping. My next goal was an authentic Swedish Saint Lucia Day for our first December 13.
Maybe the lack of sleep was affecting my mind.  

According to one big fat book, a good Swedish wife got up at four a.m. to start tossing her cookies. God forbid any sunlight should shine on the dough or disaster would befall the household. Every hefty housefrau hoped a crescent moon was hovering on the horizon to bring good luck to the baking.  

No kidding. Without that sliver of light she could get killed, stumbling around in the dark like that. I really thought that if I followed the customs, my baking would get better. I got up at four a.m. and baked. Okay, I cheated. I used electric lights.  

Then I ran into a slight problem. According to tradition, saffron buns and coffee were served between three and four a.m. by the eldest daughter, who was dressed as the Lucia Queen. We didn't have children and I couldn't borrow a neighbour's kid for that ungodly hour. I had to make some changes in the sacred customs. I, as an eldest daughter, became the first Maltese Lucia Queen. Ever.

I stitched up a long white robe and tied shining red balls to our Advent wreath. I memorized the traditional poem. Then, when I saw how much saffron cost, I made another teeny change. I made cinnamon buns. What harm could it do?


The days flew. Finally, it was December 13, 3:45 a.m. Show Time!
I was clad in white, balancing an advent wreath with bouncing red balls and gleaming white candles upon my head. I was a glowing, flaming cherries jubilee, clutching a tray laden with coffee and cinnamon buns and walking ever so slowly to our bed.  

Hovering over Paul, I chanted: Night goes with silent steps...
Hmmph... No answer. He was snoring. No Swedish genes were making him wake up to behold his Lucia Queen.  
Well, after all that work, this Lucia Queen required an audience.
Creating my own liturgy, I ad libbed. Wake up, Paul.
Still no answer.
I set the tray down, gave him a push and repeated, Night goes with silent steps... Damn it, wake up.
He snorted, turned and faced me. It took him a while to focus.
Okay, finally, I, the Lucia Queen, was getting the respect I deserved.  

I went back to chanting, my voice building to an impressive boom.
Night goes with silent steps round house and cottage.
O'er earth that sun forgot, Dark shadows linger.      
Then on our threshold stands white clad in candlelight,
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia!!

He looked. He blinked. He screamed.
He said something that no one should ever say to a Lucia Queen.

I blamed the cinnamon. Maybe the Swedish mojo just doesn't work with cinnamon.
Look, if my Ma can blame religion, I can blame spices.

Anna Sultana’s Spicy Speculaas & Angel Macaroons / Tossing Christmas Cookies by Margaret Ullrich

Speculaas

 

When we were children December seemed to drag on forever.
Each day had 48 hours… or so we thought.

Well, now we’re a bit older and know better.
December days seem to have less than 10 hours, while we’re facing enough work to do that would fill two months’ worth of 50 hour days.
Ah, well, we shall soldier on, happily singing carols all the way.
More or less.


December 6 is the feast of St. Nicholas, also known as Sinterklaas.
Speculaas are cookies that are traditionally baked for his feast day.
They have a mildly spicy flavour with hints of orange.
The kiddies can enjoy them with a cold glass of milk.
Unfortunately they won’t make the day go any quicker for them.

Ma also had a recipe for Anise Speculaas, which we enjoyed during the season.
Anise has a mildly licorice flavour.
If you don’t normally cook with anise, do try it.

The Speculaas made a nice change from her Anise Biscotti.


Have a box of angel food cake mix sitting on your pantry shelf?
The Angel Macaroons are easy to make chewy coconut cookies.
No one will ever know how easy they were to make.


Hints:

About the Speculaas…

If you’re using a wooden speculaas mold, thoroughly dust it with cornstarch.
Firmly press the dough into the mold, then run a sharp knife along the edges of the design.
Gently lift the cookies and place them on the greased cookie sheet, or tap the mold onto a greased cookie sheet.


About the Angel Macaroons…

Parchment paper can be found in the baking aisle of most supermarkets.

Place the rack in the centre of the oven.

You can use either sweetened or unsweetened coconut.

For a bit of variety you could use lemon flavouring and a little more coconut.
Or you could make mint macaroons by using mint extract instead of the almond.
Or you could add 1 Tablespoon unsweetened baking cocoa into half of the batter.
If you want a bit of heft you can add another cup of coconut.

To add a bit of excitement to the cookie platter, you could make a glaze:
Place in a 1-quart saucepan
4 teaspoons butter or margarine
4 teaspoons unsweetened baking cocoa
4 teaspoons water
Heat over low heat, stirring constantly, until butter is melted.
Stir in
2/3 Cup confectioner’s sugar
Drizzle a small amount of glaze over each cookie.


                                                               Spicy Speculaas

Makes 18 to 24 cookies
Grease 3 large baking sheets

In a medium bowl sift together
2 Cups flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon cloves
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/8 teaspoon salt
Stir in
2 Tablespoons blanched almonds, chopped
2 Tablespoons candied fruit, minced

Place in a large mixer bowl
5/8 Cup (1 1/4 sticks) butter, softened
2/3 Cup packed dark-brown sugar
2 Tablespoons milk
Beat until fluffy.
Add
the dry ingredients, almonds and fruit mixture
Stir together to combine well.
Chill 4 hours or overnight. 

Roll the dough about 1/4 inch thick and cut with cookie cutters.
Place the cookies 1 inch apart on the prepared cookie sheets.

Preheat oven to 350° F

Press slivers of blanched almonds and candied fruit on top of cookies.
Bake for 10 to 15 minutes.
Let cool 1 minute.
Remove cookies, place on racks and cool completely.

Angel Macaroons

                      ~~~

                 Angel Macaroons

Makes 4 dozen
Line 3 large baking sheets with parchment paper

Place in a large mixer bowl
1 package (16 ounces) angel food cake mix
1/2 Cup water
1 teaspoon almond extract
Beat on low speed for 30 seconds.
Scraping the bowl occasionally, beat on medium speed for 1 minute.
Fold in
2 Cups shredded coconut

Preheat oven to 350° F
Drop by tablespoonfuls, 2 inches apart, on the parchment lined baking sheets.

Bake 10 to 12 minutes, until lightly browned.
Remove paper with the cookies to wire racks to cool.

                                            ~~~~

I also wrote the following essay about Christmas traditions for our CKUW radio show ‘2000 & Counting’.
Over the years our listeners asked for some seasonal stories to be repeated.
They seemed to like being reminded that we were all in the same holiday boat, a communal ship which made us feel like we were all sinking fast.

Ah… Christmas shopping, holiday baking and holiday customs…
Why do we do it?


I don't know about you, but as far as I'm concerned, there are two questions no one should ever ask a woman.

The first is "How old are you?"
The second is "Have you done your holiday baking yet?”

Why is it that, when the thermometer falls, we're supposed to bake? 
Does the Queen whip up a fruitcake before writing her speech?
I don't think so.  

Holiday baking has been with us an awfully long time.
Did you know that ginger was popular in Greece over 5,000 years ago? The Egyptians were eating gingerbread when the great pyramid of Cheops was just a brick and a prayer. I wonder what their gingerbread men looked like.

A few years after Egypt's building boom, an English King and his hunting party got lost in a blizzard on Christmas Eve.  Well, they were clever lads full of English pluck, so they threw everything they had - meat, flour, sugar, apples, ale and brandy - into a bag and cooked it. Wallah!!  Plum pudding. The Iron Chef would've been proud.  

On Christmas Day in 1666, Samuel Pepys wrote in his diary that he had risen earlier than his wife Who was desirous to sleep having sat up till four this morning seeing her maids make mince pies. 
I really admire Mrs. P.  She just sat and watched her maids do the work, yet her husband felt guilty about her workload. How did she get him to suffer like that?   

Some Christmas carols seem a little too focused on food.  For example:
     Now bring us some figgy pudding and a cup of good cheer!
     We won't go until we get some, so bring it out here.
Those were somebody's friends?  Somebody should've called the cops.


Holiday baking has followed us into modern times. The 1970s was the decade of old time family television shows like The Waltons and memoir books.
Have you ever browsed through a memoir book? It could make you weep.
They reminded us of times like this...

Evenings when a cold blustery wind howled outside were perfect for sorting through recipes. They were cozy times. The children were sitting at the oak table helping Mama chop fruit and raisins. Papa was cracking and shelling nuts and crushing fresh spices in the grinder.

Isn't that sweet? Sentences like that convinced me that if we did things just like people did before television was invented, the world would be a kinder, gentler place.

We'll never know. Paul told me, in no uncertain terms, that he was too busy to grind nuts for a cake he didn't even want.
Alright. Scratch Paul grinding his nuts. I bought ground nuts.

Step two... the batter had to be mixed. Back to that memoir...
When all the fruits were in, Grandmother called, 'Come, stir the batter!'
We all took turns giving it a stir - clockwise for good luck - and made a wish."

I made a batter, there in the fruits and called out, "Come, stir the batter!"

Carl pointed to the electric mixer sitting on the counter and said that he was staying on the eighth level of his computer game, The Temple of Ra. He also told me, in no uncertain terms, that he was too busy to stir batter for a cake he didn't even want.

I stirred the batter, clockwise.
Don't ask what I wished.


It's been downhill ever since. Do you know about the charming Swedish custom of hiding a whole almond in a serving bowl of rice pudding? The lucky person who finds the almond has to get married or do the dishes. Either my husband or my son - the fink never confessed - managed to swallow the almond every time.

I tried the German version - whoever finds the almond receives a marzipan pig. By then Paul and Carl had their own tradition: swallowing the almond. I felt so guilty looking at that poor rejected pig.
I started my own tradition and ate him... along with the cake.


There's a Christmas carol that goes: Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat...
Well, the goose isn't the only one.