FOOD ON THE FOOD

Cookbook Friday: Clam Sauce

The last of my grandmother’s wedding photos, this is her sister-in-law, Rose [Donroe] Valentino, in 1940.  Rose learned how to cook from her Neapolitan mother, Margarite Donroe.  She refers to this recipe as white clam sauce, to differentiate it from the tomato-based red version.  Rose still lives in the New Haven area and is very spry at age 95.

 

White Clam Sauce

An old standard Christmas Eve recipe, Rose would use fresh cherrystone clams and serve them in their shells for a more festive presentation.  This everyday version uses canned clams from the pantry.

3 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
4 medium garlic cloves, minced
Pinch of red pepper flakes
2 small bottles of clam juice (8 fl. oz. each)
3 Tbsp. fresh parsley, minced
2 cans minced clams, drained (6 ½ oz. each)
Salt to taste
1 lb. angel hair pasta

Set a large pot of salted water to boil.  Meanwhile, heat oil and sauté garlic until light brown (careful, as garlic burns fast).  Add red pepper flakes, clam juice, and parsley.  Cook for 15 minutes.  Just before serving, add canned clams and let simmer together for 1 minute. 

Cook angel hair pasta as directed.  Before draining, save ¼ cup of the pasta water.  Put pasta in bowl, add part of the clam sauce along with the reserved pasta water.  Serve topped with additional clam sauce.  Serves 8.

Rose [Donroe] Valentino
North Haven, Connecticut
1911 –

 

Next Recipe: Crescia

     (Previous Recipe: Fried Artichokes)

Cookbook Friday: Fried Artichokes

               

This is my grandmother, Dora Barbaresi, posing on her wedding day with her mother-in-law, Margarite Donarumo.  I like the contrast between the New World and Old World in this picture, and the way Nonni has scooped up her veil so casually. 

Dora remembers how different the Italian cooking was between her northern Italian family and that of her Neapolitan husband.  She especially remembers the fried artichokes.  Margarite used baby artichokes.  Old, dried out ones were fine because you would only keep the hearts and throw away everything else (whereas, stuffed artichokes demand very fresh, large artichokes since eating the edible parts of the leaves is half the fun).  Though the recipe for fried artichoke hearts wasn’t written down, Dora watched Margarite make them many times.  This is how she remembers it.

 

Fried Artichoke Hearts

Prepare to eat all of these right away.  Restraint is utterly foolish.

8 baby artichokes, 4 regular artichokes, or a bag of frozen (or canned) artichoke         hearts (not marinated)
1 lemon
1 egg
½ cup flour
Salt, to taste
Vegetable oil for frying

Frozen or canned artichoke hearts are ready to use as is (you know, after defrosting or de-canning/draining them), so skip to the last paragraph.

To clean and trim fresh artichokes, snap off the dark, tough outer leaves at the base and trim the stem.  Cut artichoke in half and scrape out the fuzzy choke with a spoon, leaving just the heart and the tender inner leaves.  (Sam of Becks & Posh has a lovely pictorial guide that shows how to get to the heart of an artichoke).  Cut in half again so the baby artichoke heart is now in quarters (cut larger artichoke hearts into eighths).  Place the wedges into a bowl of water with the juice of one lemon. 

In a deep pot, pour oil to a depth of 2 inches.  Heat oil to 375°F.  Beat egg in a small bowl.  Mix flour and salt in another bowl.  Drain, rinse, and pat dry artichokes.  Dredge them in beaten egg and then flour.  Fry the artichokes, several at a time, and remove when golden brown.  Let drain on paper towels and season with salt.  Serve immediately.  And, now they're gone.

Margarite [Avallone] Donarumo
Naples, Italy - New Haven, Connecticut
1877 - 1956

 

Next Recipe: Clam Sauce

     (Previous Recipe: Zeppole)

Cookbook Friday: Zeppole

Another photo from my grandmother’s wedding in 1940.  From left to right, we have Eddie Apuzzo (friend of the groom), George Barbaresi (father of the bride), Dava Barbaresi (sister of the bride), Dora Barbaresi, Freddie Donroe, Albert Donroe (brother of the groom), and Lou Donroe (brother of the groom). 

Nonni’s maid of honor was her younger sister, Dava.  Eddie Apuzzo was Freddie’s best friend.  Dava and Eddie had taken a liking to each other and got married, themselves, not too long afterwards. 

The following recipe is Dava's.  Zeppole, much like the fried dough we know, is very popular with kids, and is best eaten when just cool enough to handle.  Adults might want to test out five or six before letting the kids dig in, you know, just to be sure it's safe.

Zeppole

Dava often made these around the holidays.  It makes about 2 dozen, but you can easily halve the recipe using 1 teaspoon of yeast.

1 pkg. dry yeast
1½ cups warm water
4 cups flour
¼ tsp. cinnamon
¼ tsp. salt
2 eggs
Canola oil, for deep-frying
Honey, for drizzling

Mix dry yeast with warm water in a small bowl.  In a large bowl, add flour, cinnamon, and salt.  Make a well in the flour with a wooden spoon, and add the eggs, water, and yeast.  Mix dry ingredients into well, little by little, until it reaches bread dough consistency (if the dough still sticks to the bowl, add more flour).  Cover and let rise until double in bulk.

In a deep pot, pour oil to a depth of 2 inches and heat to 375°F.  Fry dough by the tablespoonful in hot oil (dip spoon in flour, if necessary, to keep dough from sticking).  Drain on paper towels.  Place zeppole in large bowl and pour honey over them.

Dava [Barbaresi] Catone
Hamden, Connecticut
1921-1998

Zeppole drizzled with local honey.

Next recipe: Fried Artichokes

     (Previous Recipe: Eggplant Parmesan)
 

Cookbook Friday: Eggplant Parmesan

Dora Barbaresi (my grandmother) and Freddie Donroe on their wedding day in September 1940. 

Freddie was the son of Francis Donarumo and Margherita Avallone who were both immigrants from Naples in southern Italy.  Freddie was the youngest (and, as Nonni is quick to point out, the tallest) of their nine children.  Once they were of age, Freddie and his brothers and sisters all anglicized their last name to Donroe, and that’s the name that Nonni took.  To my knowledge, this is the origin of all the Donroes in this country, for better or for worse.

 

Eggplant Parmesan

This is one of my favorites.  The eggplant is divine, but I also love finding morsels of Italian sausage, or Nonni’s meatballs, tucked within the layers.

1 large eggplant (or 2 smaller ones)
¼ cup canola oil, or more
3 eggs
2 cups flour (or bread crumbs)
1 recipe homemade tomato sauce, sausage included
½ cup Parmesan cheese, or more
Salt to taste

Cut eggplant into ¼-inch thick slices.  Heat oil in large frying pan.  Dip eggplant slices in egg and then flour.  Fry until golden brown on each side, adding more oil as necessary, and set on paper towels to drain.  Season with salt.

Preheat oven to 300°F.  In a 9x12-inch pan, put a thin layer of tomato sauce.  Add layers of fried eggplant, tomato sauce (with sausage cut into pieces), and Parmesan cheese, ending with cheese on top.  Bake for about half an hour, or until warmed through.

Dora [Barbaresi] Donroe
New Haven, Connecticut
1918 -

Stack of crispy, fried eggplant, pre-sauce.

Next Recipe: Zeppole

     (Previous Recipe: Tomato Sauce)

Cookbook Friday: Tomato Sauce

Dora Barbaresi (my grandmother) with sweetheart, Freddie Donarumo, in 1940 in front of her house in New Haven, CT.

Dora met Freddie at a party hosted by the Junior League club.  She was 18 years old and was there with her boyfriend at the time.  Freddie, 20, was there with his girlfriend.  Dora took one look at Freddie and decided right then that he was the one.  He must have noticed her, too, because the very next week, Freddie invited Dora on a hayride.  After that, they were inseparable.

No one in the family has ever heard anyone say a bad word about Freddie.  He worked as a manager at the local A&P, and was known as an all-around great guy.  After dating for five years, Freddie proposed.  “Will you marry me?" he asked Dora.  "Because if you don’t, I’m going into the seminary.”  He was only being slightly dramatic; he actually was considering the priesthood.  But, Dora accepted and, reflecting back, she says, “Of course, I was going to marry him.  I wasn’t going to waste him on the church.”

Nonni’s Tomato Sauce

But, where’s the oregano?  Where’s the basil?  She doesn’t use it, and I’ve never missed it.  This sauce is great with her eggplant parmesan, lasagna, manicotti, and tortiere.  It also freezes well.

2 Tbsp. olive oil
3 garlic cloves, chopped
1 pork chop or 2 sausage links
1 large (28 oz.) can tomato puree
½ can water
Salt and pepper

Heat olive oil in large frying pan.  Add meat and cook until nicely browned.  Remove meat and set aside.  Add garlic and cook until fragrant (about 10 seconds).  Add tomato puree, water, cooked meat, and simmer for about an hour (she says, taste and you’ll know.).  Add salt and pepper.

Dora [Barbaresi] Donroe
New Haven, Connecticut
1918 -

Next Recipe: Eggplant Parmesan

     (Previous Recipe: Passatellis)