It's December 21st, the first day of winter.
This past week we’ve had two snowstorms, and, with the winds, we had white outs.
The weather was so bad that the buses couldn’t run and they had to shut down the schools.
In Manitoba the ‘first day of winter’ bit just gets an eye roll.
Like, it’s December, put on your toque and get your shovel.
No matter the weather, the holiday season is here.
All together now: Tradition... Tradition...
I know that most of the time everyone just does what they have - or want - to do.
But the holiday season has rules - I mean, traditions - that must be followed.
Yippee kay yoh kay yay!
My Christmas traditions are Maltese and Italian.
Whether we were visiting Sicilian relative or eating at home we always had Ricotta Pie and fresh - practically made-to-order - Cannoli for Christmas.
Ricotta Pie is very simple to make and can be served for a light brunch any time of the year.
If you’re not Italian, cannoli is a tube-shaped dessert made of fried pastry dough filled with a sweet cheese, usually ricotta, filling.
Traditional Italian bakers fill the tube just before serving to keep the tube crisp.
Leftovers have to be refrigerated.
But after a day the shell gets soft and the cannoli just isn’t as good.
That’s why my mother and aunts started using the filling in pies and cakes and cookies.
If you're not interested in frying pastry dough while everyone is having fun around the tree, these recipes are fine cannoli substitutes.
Hints:
For a smooth texture, drain ricotta for at least an hour in a cheesecloth lined strainer, and have it at room temperature before using.
The ricotta and cannoli pies and the cannoli cake should be refrigerated.The cookies will be fine at room temperature.
Traditional Pie Crust:
Place in large bowl
4 Cups flour
1 1/2 Cups cold unsalted butter, cubed
Cut in butter.
Make a well in the centre and add
1 egg, beaten
1/2 Cup ice water
3 Tablespoons sour cream
1 Tablespoon vinegar
1 Tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
Stir together and form into 3 balls.
Roll out 1 ball slightly larger than a 9 inch pie plate.
Gently fit it in, crimp the edges, and trim excess.
Repeat with remaining 2 balls.
About the Cannoli Pie with Sugar Cone Crust…
To make it ahead replace the confectioner’s sugar with one can sweetened condensed milk and freeze overnight.
Let it sit for 15 to 20 minutes before slicing.
Ricotta Pie
1 pie crust
Place in a large bowl
2 Cups whole milk ricotta
Whisk until smooth.
Add
3/4 Cup sugar
3 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
Zest of 1 lemon
1/4 teaspoon salt
Mix until creamy and fully combined.
Preheat oven to 350° F
Pour the filling into the pie crust and smooth the top.
Bake for 50 to 60 minutes, until the centre is set and the top is golden.
Let the pie cool completely on a wire rack.
Refrigerate for at least 2 hours, or overnight.
Just before slicing, dust with
Confectioner’s sugar
Tart Ricotta Pie
Have prepared in 9 inch pie plate
1 pie crust
Place in a large bowl
1 Cup sugar
4 large eggs
1 Tablespoon vanilla
Whisk together until smooth, about 1 minute.
Add
2 Cups whole milk ricotta
1/4 Cup sour cream
Zest and juice of 1 lemon
Mix until well combined.
Stir in
1/4 Cup flour
Pinch of salt
Mix until no lumps remain.
Preheat oven to 350° F
Pour the filling into the pie crust and smooth the top.
Bake for 45 to 50 minutes, or until set and only slightly jiggly in the centre.
Cool completely at room temperature, then refrigerate for at least 2 (preferably 4) hours.
Before serving, dust top with
1 Tablespoon cinnamon
Cannoli Pie with Sugar Cone Crust
Preheat oven to 350° F
Sugar Cone Pie Crust:
Crush 12 sugar cones to get 1 1/2 Cups of 1/4 inch bits and finer crumbs.
Add
4 Tablespoons butter, melted
Combine until blended.
Press crumbs into a 9 inch pie plate.
Bake for 5 minutes. Let cool completely.
Place in a large mixer bowl
2 1/2 Cups heavy cream
Whip to stiff peaks.
For the filling: measure out 2 cups and set aside.
For the topping: place the remainder in a bowl, cover, and refrigerate.
Place in the same large mixer bowl (you don’t need to wash it)
8 ounces mascarpone cheese, room temperature
4 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
Beat for 3 minutes.
Add
1 Cup Confectioner’s sugar
Beat until smooth.
Add
1 Cup ricotta cheese
1 1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon orange zest
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
Beat 3 minutes.
Gently fold in the 2 Cups of whipped cream.
Pour into the cooled crust and smooth the top.
Whisk into the refrigerated whipped cream
3 Tablespoons Confectioner’s sugar
Pipe whipped cream around the edge of the pie.
Sprinkle with
1/3 Cup mini chocolate chips
1/3 Cup chopped pistachios
Refrigerate for at least 4 hours before serving.
Preheat oven to 350° F
Grease and flour three 8 inch round cake pans.
Place in a medium bowl
2 1/2 Cups flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
Whisk together.
Place in a large mixer bowl
1 Cup unsalted butter, softened
1 3/4 Cups sugar
Cream together until light and fluffy.
Beat in, one at a time
4 large eggs
Add
1 Tablespoon vanilla
Making 3 dry and 2 liquid additions, add
the flour mixture
1 Cup milk
Mix gently, just until combined.
Fold in
1/2 Cup mini chocolate chips
Divide batter evenly among prepared pans.
Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.
Let cool completely.
For the cake’s topping:
Place in a large mixer bowl
2 1/2 Cups heavy cream
Whip to stiff peaks.
Place in a bowl, cover, and refrigerate.
For decorating: (optional)
Place in a small mixer bowl
1/2 Cup heavy cream
Whip to stiff peaks.
Whisk in
1/2 Tablespoon Confectioner’s sugar
Cover and refrigerate.
Cannoli Filling:
Place in the same large mixer bowl (you don’t need to wash it)
1 1/2 Cups ricotta cheese
1 Cup mascarpone cheese
1 Cup Confectioner’s sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
Beat until smooth.
Layer the cake with half of cannoli filling between the layers.
Cover the top and sides with cake's topping whipped cream
Pipe the cream for decorating around the edge of the cake. (optional)
Sprinkle over the top
1 Cup mini chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 350° F
Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.
Place in a medium bowl
1 3/4 Cups flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
Whisk together and set aside.
Place in a large mixer bowl
1/2 Cup unsalted butter, softened
1 Cup sugar
Cream until light and fluffy.
Add
1 Cup whole milk ricotta cheese
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
Mix until smooth.
Gradually stir in the flour mixture.
Fold in
1 Tablespoon orange zest
3/4 Cup mini chocolate chips
Place tablespoon-sized balls of dough on the baking sheets.
Bake for 12 to 14 minutes, or until the edges are just turning golden.
Place in small microwaveable bowl
1 Cup chocolate chips (your choice of sweetness)
Microwave until just melted.
After cookies have cooled completely, dust with
Confectioner’s sugar
Drizzle with
Melted chocolate
Store them in a tin that’s been lined with wax paper.
~~~
In 2004 I wrote this story for our CKUW radio show '2000 & Counting - Older & Wiser'.
For a while it was our annual tradition.
I got a few e mails asking if I could post the original story.
Here it is.
If you'd like to try some of the recipes, I've posted many of them. Just copy the name and paste it in the 'looking for a recipe' box.
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.
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. Then they 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 two daughters. It was nice living in Corona again. The next day, Nonni took me to the local 5 and 10 and gave me a quarter.
"Buy for sister."
I didn't know 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 the furnace 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.
