FOOD ON THE FOOD

Cookbook Friday: Pignoli Cookies

This picture was taken around 1950 with some of my grandmother’s siblings.  From left to right: sister Jean [Barbaresi] Borrelli, sister Edith [Barbaresi] Piccolo, niece Terese Bontempo, sister-in-law Regina [Lipowski] Barbaresi, and brother Gerry Barbaresi.  Notice the milk bottle and what appears to be an untouched piece of pie in the center of the table.  What’s up with that?

While I was growing up, Edith lived with my grandmother, Dora [Barbaresi] Donroe, for some number of years.  In her sixties at the time, Edith always struck me as a tornado of fury.  It seemed best just to stay out of her way.  But, I remember coming out of the woodwork for these pignoli (pine nut) cookies.  They were totally worth it.

Edith shaped these into crescents, not an easy task with such a sticky dough.  I never have any luck with this, and today was no different.  I gave up halfway through and just dropped them in circles with the rationale that, who the hell cares?  When I pulled them out of the oven, I saw that all of the crescents had transformed themselves into circles anyway, so it was like I didn’t even try.  I’m not sure, but I think I heard her laughing.

Gluten-free peeps, this is the cookie for you.  (Unless you’re allergic to nuts, too.)  (In which case, man, that sucks.)

Pignoli Cookies

This moist and chewy Italian cookie is one of my all-time favorites.

1 lb. almond paste, crumbled finely
1 ½ cups sugar
3 egg whites
1 lb. pine nuts

Preheat oven to 350°F.  Line two cookie sheets with aluminum foil or parchment paper.

Crumble the almond paste into tiny pieces.  You can do this painstakingly by hand, or you can whiz it in the food processor in a flash.  Your choice.  With an electric mixer, beat the crumbled almond paste, sugar, and egg whites together until mixture fluffs up, about 2 minutes.  Spoon ½ teaspoon dough, dip spoon upside down into pine nuts, and push dough onto baking sheet, nut side up.  I find a regular teaspoon (as opposed to a measuring teaspoon) is easier to work with. 

Bake until just golden, 12 to 15 minutes.  Pull the foil off the pans to allow these cookies to cool while baking the rest.  Be sure to reline the pans.  Although the baked cookies may appear to be stuck to the foil, once they have cooled sufficiently, they can be gently peeled right off.  Makes 50 cookies.

Edith [Barbaresi] Piccolo
West Haven, Connecticut
1917-1994

Next: The Cherry Tree

     (Previous Recipe: Meatballs)

Cookbook Friday: Meatballs

With Freddie Donroe a casualty of the war in 1944, my grandmother, Dora Barbaresi, was left a widow with their infant daughter.  So, how is it that I carry the name Donroe two generations later?  Let me explain.

After a long period of grieving, Freddie’s brother, Albert Donroe, stepped in to ask Dora to marry him.  Albert was actually the Best Man at Dora and Freddie’s wedding (he's standing to the right of Freddie in the picture of the wedding party).  In my mind, I’ve concocted all manner of noble reasons for this proposal.  To provide for Dora the way his brother would have wanted.  To bring up his brother’s child as his own.  To help keep Freddie’s memory alive.  It may have been all of those things, but, let’s face it, she was also cute. 

In an attempt to pick up the pieces of her life, Dora wed Albert and, in doing so, retained Donroe as her married name.  So, Freddie wasn't my grandfather — Albert was.  That marriage turned out to be, um, less blissful.  But the union did produce two sons. 

               

This is my dad, who was born in 1948.  He was named Freddie in memory of the late Freddie who would have, in effect, been his uncle.  Indeed, as adults, there is a striking resemblance between the two.  His brother, Eddie, was born six years later. 

As family lore has it, when my dad was born, the doctor declared him to be not only the most beautiful baby in the nursery, but also the most beautiful baby the doctor had ever seen over the course of his career, and maybe even in the history of the world.

Albert was very proud of his newborn son and was swaggering around by the nursery window when another proud papa and his entourage arrived on the scene.  That father was singing the praises of his newborn son, but he was pointing at baby Freddie.  Albert turned around and said to him, in no uncertain terms, “Who the hell do you think you are?  That’s my son.  That scrawny one over there is yours.”

And maybe now my dad will stop complaining about how I never write about him on my blog, anymore.  Here’s a manly recipe to boot.

 

Meatballs

Nonni serves these with her lasagna and manicotti.  They are the best.  There’s no convincing me otherwise.

½ lb. ground beef
½ lb. ground pork
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 Tbsp. Italian parsley, finely chopped
1 handful fresh breadcrumbs
1 handful Parmesan cheese
1 egg
Salt and pepper
Canola oil

Using your hands, mix together all of the ingredients in a large bowl.  Roll into round balls.  Heat oil in a large frying pan, and cook, turning meatballs often to maintain their shape, until browned and cooked through. 

Dora [Barbaresi] Donroe
Hamden, Connecticut
1918 –

 

Next Recipe: Pignoli Cookies

     (Previously: World War II)