BUON FERRAGOSTO 2019

Clockwise, left to right:
Bertie-Pierrine enjoying some special doggy gelato; interior of Duomo di San Pietro, Modica; appetisers in local bar; Sicilian puppets depicted in flowers at the Infiorata in Noto, 2019.

THE WEDDING PARTY GIRL

The Wedding Party Girl

A story for New Year

I would see her four or five times a year, usually in summer, as I sat writing in the bar on the corner of my street in Centochiese. Once, I saw her in the hairdresser's, on a Saturday like all the other times, and once in the run-up to Christmas – always with the same group of friends and even in winter, when it gets cold and windy in Sicily, seated outside the bar where those who wished to could smoke. She had the kind of easy elegance that every woman secretly covets and I noticed her first not for the beauty she undoubtedly had, but for this. When she moved she glided, her long dark hair seemed effortlessly in place and her clothes, simpler in style than those of her friends, seemed smarter because of the way she wore them; few, but perfect, accessories, make-up applied by a painstaking beautician to look as if it wasn't there and, most importantly, she wore them with confidence.

Beauticians do rather well in Centochiese – there are six within a five-minute walk from my house – and they do especially well on summer Saturdays, for when there is a wedding, not only the bride, but every female guest will have what we would call in English “the works” and will be made up as if for a television appearance. An Italian beautician can make anyone look stunning, including, on occasion, I like to think, me. 

So it was that I knew they were a wedding party from their attire – the women in evening dress or at least what used to be called “cocktail dresses” in the early afternoon, and the men in their expensive suits teamed with trainers – yes, trainers – that had probably cost as much as the rest of the outfit. It made a stylish combination. The other clues were the group's general celebratory mood and the time of day: I would see them at around 2pm or between 6pm and 8. You see, in Sicily, people don't just have their wedding photos taken in and outside the church or at the reception, but the bride and groom leave their guests, sometimes for several hours, to go off to a specially chosen location – often the beach - with the photographer. What do the guests do in the meantime? Well, those who live near enough sometimes go home whilst others, such as this group, repair to a favourite bar to smoke, gossip, have an aperitvo and share a plate of struzzichini while they wait for the real celebration to begin, at perhaps 8.30 or 9.30 pm. This will go on until the early hours, comprise many courses, the viewing of the wedding video or perhaps a clip or montage of the couple's story, dancing and high jinks and possibly – something which frightens me to death – the lighting of paper lanterns which fly dangerously low over the guests' heads. Yes, these friends would have a good time later.

The wedding party girl, as I called her in my mind, never seemed to be with any of the young men in particular, though some of the others were obvious couples. She seemed of them, yet a little aloof, never smoking, never talking or laughing loudly but smiling, graceful and usually acknowledging me with a little nod. “Signora”, she'd say quietly if I passed her.

Several summers went by like this and after the first one, I'd notice a couple missing from the group so I'd guess it was their wedding day. Then the next summer they'd be back, the young woman perhaps with a definite bump, and another two of the group would be missing. Yet it never seemed to be the wedding party girl's turn to absent herself from the group.

Then one summer I didn't see her at all. On the first Saturday I thought that she might have been the (non-blushing) bride but when she didn't appear for the second or third time the group were there, I wondered if she had moved away, as so many young Sicilians do, for university or for work. I didn't know the group well enough to ask and if I had, my British reserve would have got the better of me. I didn't see her the summer after that either, and then I suppose I stopped thinking about it as after all, what business was it of mine?

That New Year's Eve, for the first time in eight or so years, it snowed in Centochiese, an event which was greeted with joy rather than dismay, for there were children who had never seen such a thing. And I had to admit it was pretty, although I shivered indoors more than I ever had in England, where houses are built to shelter you from the cold rather than the summer heat. On New Year's Day I awoke to that silence that seems to fall everywhere along with snow when it first comes. “The silence of a convent”, I thought as I ventured out, as apartment-dwelling dog owners must, that morning.

Picture by kind permission of  Oreb - Libri & Sacro, Modica

We walked slowly, my dog and I – she because, like the children, she had never seen snow before and I for fear of falling. Thus it was that when we came to the Catholic book store, we paused for a moment to look at its beautifully decorated window, which won prizes every year in the Centochiese Christmas Window competition. Suddenly I became aware of a woman treading lightly in the snow towards me, dressed in an ankle-length grey skirt of thick material, a mid-length, heavy raincoat that could have been British and what in my far-away country we would call “sensible shoes” - probably much more suitable for the snow than mine - and yes, a wisp of wavy black hair escaping from under her wimple. I don't know why she was outside or why her hands were bare on this freezing day but they were, and as she stopped to admire the crib in the window she gave me a fleeting smile and that familiar nod. “Sorella”, said I, nodding back. There was just a hint of a wave as she left, enough for me to register the glint of her nun's ring in the Sicilian sun which was beginning to peep through the unusual grey of the sky. Then she melted away as the snow soon would and to this day, I have not seen her again. The wedding party girl had had her wedding day.

Cross-posted at Tales from Centochiese

FEASTING WITH AN OLD FRIEND

My friend Carol King, who has recently returned to Sicily, and I decided to celebrate Ferragosto a day late this year, so I kind of cooked her a little meal:

The antipasti included olives, sun-dried tomatoes, fresh datterini tomatoes, mini sausages, bresaola and Parma ham topped with Grana cheese shavings, marinated mushrooms and - I must tell you about this - watermelon with salted cucumber. My original intention was to chuck the cucumber - peeled, deseeded, chopped, salted, left then rinsed, drained and chilled - into the salad but at the last minute I thought it would be a nice addition to the dish of watermelon. Turns out I was right!  The seemingly small apples around the antipasti dishes are actually azzaroli or Neapolitan medlars, which are related to hawthorn. There are mini-pears as well and they are a fine partner for the cheese.

The main course was grilled chicken salad with grilled nectarines. (Yes, I have a thing for grilled nectarines!)   I marinated the chicken in culinary rosewater before grilling and seasoned it with sumac afterwards. I used the dressing I invented for this recipe. The other ingredients were grilled peppers and rocket leaves.

For dessert, I made strawberry tiramisù and Carol brought along the delicious sweet treats on the right.

Everything on this menu can be made in advance and all you have to do is make the antipasti look pretty and assemble the salad.

WHEN BERTIE MET DAISY

It was great meeting Sarah from White Almond Sicily , her husband Mike, their lovely dog Daisy and friend Teresa on Saturday.  Bertie thought so, too!

And what better to go with an aperitvo than an abundant, Modican  piatto of stuzzichini at the Cicara Caffetteria?

Daisy enjoyed the accompanying crisps and I'm sure she'll bring her mummy, daddy and friend back soon!

ANOTHER VISITOR

It has been lovely to welcome my friend the writer and editor Carol King back to Sicily and Sunday had to start with brioche and gelato!

Later there were antipasti, including some fine taralli biscuits from Calabria:

I also made my pizza estiva with grilled nectarines

and a semifreddo di marrons glacés. [This last is a Cucchiaio D'Argento recipe, not one of mine]:

Hope you come back soon too, Carol!

A VISITOR FROM DOWN UNDER

My Welsh-Australian second cousin, John, stopped off in Modica on Sunday and it was lovely to see him again after eight years.

Given constraints of time and temperature, I had prepared a little feast of antipasti followed by chicken filled with pistacchi, pepper, thyme and lemon and served with a tomato and red onion salsa and rosemary and garlic potatoes. [Only the potatoes were served hot.] Afterwards there was a semifreddo from Delizie D'Autore and of course, there had to be some Modican biscuits!

Come again soon, John.

THE PERFECT WAY.....

..... to end a lesson and the week:

Happy weekend, everyone!

WATERMELON APPETISER

Italians, look away now! I know anguria is usually kept for the end of a meal but why not try to be different for once?

Here is a very quick and cooling watermelon appetiser which also looks pretty. You will have to assemble it just moments before serving, but you can cut the watermelon and keep it in the fridge, grill the courgettes [if not using frozen ones] and make your own pesto [if you wish] and chill it in advance.

First cut as many watermelon wedges as you have guests plus a few extra. Leave the rind on what will be the outside edge when the pieces are on the serving plate, as they will be easier to pick up that way. [In Italy, a greengrocer will cut the watermelon for you.]  With a very small coffee spoon, scoop out all the seeds you can see, on both sides.  Arrange the slices on a plate and top each one with a slice of grilled courgette, then add about 2 teasp pesto. [I do usually make my own but this time I didn't and sorry, Masterchef UK people - I don't do quenelles.] Top with a datterino tomato or half a cherry tomato and decorate with basil leaves.

Buon appetito. 

IL ROSPO NEL BUCO

A former student of mine, a military man, had been asking me to make him "toad in the hole" since it was mentioned in an article we read in class.  I must admit I'd been avoiding it as it's not one of my favourite dishes and I hadn't made it for years but how can you refuse a fighting man? So when he came home to Sicily for a visit last weekend, I relented and made it.

First, though, I served antipasti, including the aubergine polpette I mentioned here [I decided to keep the sauce], Asiago cheese with cherries, olives and datterini tomatoes and salame tartlets, a Jill Dupleix  idea. I'm always afraid of not serving enough, so there had to be a bowl of crisps!

Then the rospo nel buco, using Italian sausages and to which I added some sage and chopped rosemary. I must say, the nerve-wracking thing did puff up nicely:

And finally, as this was, mostly, a British evening, a summer pudding:

You'll be glad to know, and I was very relieved, that it was all a success!

A PEACEFUL LUNCH

A lovely, relaxing lunch with friends in peaceful surroundings on Sunday:

Crostini with foie gras -  ages since I'd had the latter!

And more with gorgonzola and caponata.

Iced sweet pepper soup

followed by herbed chicken served with asparagus, cime di rapa and potatoes.

A British friend had made lemon drizzle cake

and I'd made lemon semifreddo [again].

It wasn't warm enough, by Sicilian standards, to eat outside but it was warm enough to have the doors wide open and enjoy this oasis of peace.

Grazie a tutti gli amici!

A LITTLE SOMETHING.....

One of the pleasures of Italian life  is to be able to go into almost any bar an hour or two before it is time for a main meal and ask for a plate of stuzzichini or appetisers. These are really appetisers before your main meal appetisers, I have to remind myself, as everyone around me will partake of a three-course meal later, probably at home.

The stuzzichini in my local bar are particularly good on a Saturday evening and you get a mini dish of pasta and a generous bowl of crisps too!

NEW YEAR AT IRMA'S

My friend Irma always comes up with original and refined menus for special occasions and presents her dishes very elegantly so I was delighted when she invited me to lunch on New Year's Day.

To begin, there was couscous salad and that is potato that Irma has so cleverly cut into star shapes:

There were also home-cured olives

and these pastries which, sadly, I had to pass on as they contained fish:

There were spiedini, too - and we're still only on the antipasti!

The pasta with ham and mushrooms on a purée of zucchini was a triumph,

as was the main dish of tender pork:

Afterwards there were these little chocolate cakes

and orange peel candied by Irma's sister:

I made the raspberry upside-down cake again and was a little concerned because it sank in the middle a bit this time, but it's amazing what you can do with a few cake decorations!

Then there was a very special panettone

and an equally enormous pandoro:

As you can imagine, we were all very content by mid-afternoon!  Grazie, cara Irma.

"UN PICCOLO PIATTO"

It's always nice to have lunch out with a friend and this is what we were served the other day when we each asked for a piccolo piatto [little plate] of antipasti:

A fish-based selection for my friend....

.... and salumi- based antipasti for me - the speck timballo [right]
was particularly good.

Then an Italian version of steak au poivre for the main course - excellent.

After that lot we decided to be good and take some exercise,  so we walked to another bar for ice cream.

CHE BELLA TAVOLA!

What a beautifully set table there was at a party to celebrate my friends' 50th wedding anniversary on Saturday:

The menu consisted of dishes that brought back memories of places where the couple had lived and you may be able to see the little Spoleto pizze at the top of the place settings.  The antipasti were all Italian but the main course was roast beef and Yorkshire puddings!

I've mentioned before that a lot of Sicilians are reluctant to try foreign food and so it was with the Yorkshire puddings and gravy. "Peggio per loro - so much the worse for them", as this meant that there was more for the British contingent.

There were three kinds of anniversary cake - an Italian sponge, a chocolate cake and a traditional British wedding cake, which further perplexed some of the Italians. Those who did try it, though, agreed with the Brits that it was delicious.

I think you need a closer look at the cakes:

I had a lovely time and felt honoured to have been invited so "happy anniversary" again, my dear friends.