Debra's Articles in The Boston Globe

Preparation is half the fun for Feast of San Giuseppe

2010-04-05T09:17:00.009-04:00

By Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent March 31, 2010
GLOUCESTER — In the garage-cum-kitchen of Nina and Franco Groppo’s home here, more than 20 friends and extended family are preparing for the Feast of San Giuseppe. That means pasta making — lots of it — along with plenty of fun. Flour sifting through the air around him, Pasquale Vitale throws his head back and calls out: “Comu semu tutti muti?’’ (Let me hear your voices.) The pasta makers respond: “Viva San Giuseppe Viva!’’

This Sicilian cheer, honoring St. Joseph, the patron saint of families, is repeated many times for several days in this makeshift work space. The feast, a gesture of gratitude for the bounty of life, is held a week later on March 19. Many people who hail from the tiny village of Trappeto, hometown of the Groppos, attend, but you don’t have to be Italian to participate. Neighbors Marilyn Swift, Catherine Gunn, and Bev Gardner have been helping for years. “Bring a friend. Tell them to bring a friend. Everyone is welcome,’’ says Nina Groppo. “See how many people St. Joseph brings into my life?’’ She is the heart of this celebration.

The Groppos have been doing this for 14 years. In the house, a three-tiered altar with a statue of St. Joseph at the top adorns their den. Flowers and religious figurines, framed by swags of mauve-colored satin and lace, attend the saint.
The garage kitchen is filled with tables, where pasta makers will eventually roll out 100 pounds of dough and turn it into thick strands of a fettuccine-like tagliarini. Grace Sciortino assists son Sal, 13, as he feeds dough though a pasta machine. “More flour,’’ instructs Nina Groppo. Her husband and Vitale set the cut pasta to dry on door-size plywood planks. As one board fills, they set another on wooden blocks. Within an hour, they stack six boards like an urban parking lot. The pasta will dry all week.

Ninfa Briguglio tends a pot of milk simmering on the stove. “I’m making ricotta,’’ she says. “It couldn’t be easier: Heat milk, cream, salt, and vinegar — you get ricotta.’’ Forty minutes later she scoops the creamy warm curds and whey into plastic bowls to reward everyone for the day’s work.

The next week, on the eve of the feast, folks gather again to prepare focaccia sandwiches with fillings that include cheese, anchovies, tomatoes, salted Alaskan salmon, and basil. The workers pare artichokes for fritters and fill more than 100 bags with bread, an orange, and a lemon. The orange promises sweetness, the lemon recalls the bitterness of the past, and the bread represents nourishment. They also make conza, the traditional sauce/soup of beans, cauliflower, and fennel. Conza will be tossed with all that pasta made the week before. Four pounds each of chickpeas, lentils, white and red beans, black-eyed peas, and favas are cooked separately before being mixed together Friday morning. That same day, the workers cut cauliflower into florets along with fragrant wild fennel, sent from Franco Groppo’s cousin in California. As they chop, the intense aroma of anise deepens.

At dusk on the eve of the feast, votive candles are twinkling as dozens arrive at the Groppos’ for a Mass led by Father Antonio Nardoianni of St. Leonard’s Parish in the North End. Several breads in the shape of animals and Christian symbols are on the altar. They were made by Dominic D’Amico and his daughter, Maria Cracchiolo of Caffe Sicilia in Gloucester. After the service and a light supper of focaccia sandwiches, Groppo’s home cured olives, fresh fruit, and pastry, everyone leaves with a bag of bread and fruit.

On feast day, more than 100 celebrants glide through the Groppos’ home. The conza simmers from early morning in an 80-quart pot. In the backyard, Joseph Briguglio stands over a huge vat of bubbling oil and deep-fried artichoke fritters. He reminds everyone this is his feast day: “No one can be mean to me today!’’ His wife, Ninfa, dips the chokes in a yeasty batter, depositing them into the oil one by one. Once they are fried, he sets them down and everyone nearby grabs one. Enzo Barna is making panelle, deep-fried chickpea squares. In the kitchen, tables are groaning with huge aluminum pans of sweet and sour fish, baked stuffed jumbo shrimp, the eggplant relish caponata, orange and fennel salad, marinated octopus salad, and Italian cookies and desserts wrapped in cellophane.

Everyone is waiting for the homemade pasta di San Giuseppe. The water comes to a boil and Salvatore Cracchiolo and Franco Groppo tip in the pasta. When it’s ready, the men begin what looks like a ballet. They fill two giant bowls first with sauce, then pasta, then sauce, then pasta. Carlo Randazzo tosses it together. Vitale’s daughter, Angela, helps serve the crowd, many of whom return for a refill.
Then a shout: “Comu semu tutti muti?’’
And the response: “Viva San Giuseppe Viva!’’

Recipe for Conza

Tofu is all about the texture

2010-01-09T21:59:00.009-05:00

Tofu is all about the texture
Each of the three styles of soy bean curd has a purpose

Those large white blocks of tofu can be intimidating. No matter how carefully you prepare them, the dishes never seem as good as they are when you eat out. It’s all a matter of determining which texture you need - firm, soft, or silken - and finding a recipe that suits you.
For vegetarians and vegans, tofu is an important protein. For others - even hearty folks who like their beef - tofu is a healthy alternative to meat. You see it offered instead of beef in casual lunch spots as an add-in to stir-fries. One-half cup of firm tofu is about 95 calories - the same amount of skinless chicken breast is about 110 - but tofu is considerably lower in fat than beef. The white cakes are actually soy bean curd (tofu is the Japanese word for bean curd), which originated in China more than 1,000 years ago; it’s pronounced doufu in Chinese and dubu in Korean.

Tofu has always been popular in Asian restaurants, and every Asian cuisine boasts many tofu-based dishes. In his Chinese restaurant, Rice Valley in Newton, owner Kent Chen has noticed two dishes in particular becoming popular: a deep-fried orange-flavored bean curd, and a lighter steamed bean curd offered with a special soy sauce.

Tofu is made with soy beans, water, and a coagulant. The beans are soaked, crushed, and simmered in water, then the solids are strained and pressed, which creates soy milk. That milk is heated and combined with a natural coagulant, which makes the milk clot and separate like curds and whey. Curds are set in molds and packed in containers with water. Once you open tofu, use it within a few days, changing the water daily.

Each of the three kinds of tofu has a purpose. Firm is for stir fries (it holds its shape in hot oil), soft is for soups and stews (you can cut it up easily), and silken, also for soups and stews, can be eaten without further cooking. Within each of these designations you can find extra firm to almost custard-like. For most recipes, drain or press tofu before cooking to release excess liquid. A quick method is to microwave it for 2 minutes, then drain the liquid on the plate.

One dish that uses firm tofu is a Japanese specialty in which the block is crumbled and mixed with carrot matchsticks, mushrooms, and beaten eggs. Rice Valley’s silken tofu can be made at home if you rig up a steamer. Pour hot chicken stock and soy sauce around the cubes, then top with scallions and a spoonful of hot oil. The tofu absorbs these and turns very flavorful.

When my family lived in Japan some years ago, every neighborhood had a small tofu shop, mostly multigenerational mom-and-pop operations. The smell of cooking soy beans wafted into the street. Fresh and fried tofu cakes were sold at a window, along with tofu mash or lees, a nutritious byproduct of the beans. Japanese housewives simmer this with vegetables or mold it into croquettes. The women could also buy fresh tofu from a bicycle vendor (usually an old man), who tooted a horn to alert residents. In recent years, a mini truck blasts a horn. Most consumers buy high quality tofu in supermarkets.

As you approach the Chang Shing Tofu factory in Cambridge, you get a whiff of that same bean-y smell. Instead of a tiny window, you walk through the loading dock to buy tofu. This operation supplies many area markets and restaurants. Local farmers pick up the mash to feed their lucky pigs; someone can pack up a bag for you.

If you have a hankering for tofu, you needn’t always have fresh on hand. There’s a shelf-stable brand from Mori-nu. Or freeze a block of firm tofu, defrost it in the refrigerator, and squeeze out the water like a sponge. Slice and toss in hot oil with vegetables and a splash of soy, hoisin, or oyster sauce.
Tofu is your canvas. Add seasonings and see what you get.

To see 4 great tofu recipes go to Debra's Recipe Cards

Tasting notes
Though some tofu manufacturers are not based in this country, all brands are made in plants here.
Chang Shing Tofu Firm
$1.39 for 18 ounces (2 pieces)
The favorite. Made in Cambridge. Comes in regular and large containers. Water clear, taste pure, no bean-y traces. Texture firm to the touch, soft on the tongue. Nice brown crust when fried.
House Organic Tofu Firm
$1.99 for 14 ounces
Creamy white Japanese brand; smooth, appetizing appearance. Firm but not hard; browns when fried and has a clean taste.
Mori-nu Organic Silken Firm
$1.99 for 12.3 ounces
Japanese shelf-stable brand. Called “silken tofu’’ but comes in a variety of textures. When fried, nice crust, but the center breaks apart. Sweet taste, slightly bean-y flavor. Steam or use in soups.
Nasoya Firm Tofu
$1.69 for 14 ounces
Brick-like with a slight bean-y taste. Smooth when cut; forms a good crust when fried.
Pulmuone All Natural Firm
$1.69 for 18 ounces
Favorite Korean brand. Frying produces a light and smooth crust with a fine texture and subtle flavor. Available at Korean grocers or H Mart in Burlington.
Soy Boy Firm
$2.19 for 16 ounces
Yellowish cast to water; rough surface on block. Very firm to the touch, tasteless, and heavy. The least Asian bean curd-like texture. When fried, it’s slightly bitter.
21st Century Tofu
$1.19 for 16 ounces
Made in Jamaica Plain. Smooth texture, taste is a bit chalky. When fried, it’s crispy on the outside, soft inside, and doesn’t crumble. Available at A. Russo and Sons in Watertown or the Harvest Co-op Market in Jamaica Plain.
365 Organic Firm
$1.79 for 14 ounces
Pocked rough surface, firm to the touch, crumbly. Distinctive, buttery taste. When fried, surprisingly mellow.
Vermont Soy Firm Style
$1.98 for 14 ounces
Least favorite. Off-putting dense, crumbly, chalky texture. Texture improves after cooking.

Expert's Guide To The New Asian Megamart

2009-11-12T10:20:00.011-05:00

' You’d think I was in Korea’

RESTAURATEUR JAE CHUNG TAKES US INSIDE H MART, THE ENORMOUS NEW KOREAN MEGAMART, FOR A COOKING LESSON LIKE NO OTHER

By Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent November 11, 2009

BURLINGTON — Standing in front of a tower of Korean grapes, restaurateur Jae Chung surveys the new H Mart. “Wow! Now I won’t have to drive to New Jersey,’’ he says. Opened last month — the first one in New England — this H Mart is the 30th store for the New Jersey-based chain owned by Korean businessmen. It began in 1982 and at this point moves into a region in a big way. The footprint is the size of a football field. The store combines elements of Asian and American supermarkets, department store-type concessions, and a food court anchored by a French Asian bakery. Some customers look like they’re participating in a supermarket sweepstakes race. Carts are piled high with boxes threatening to topple over. All Asian cuisines are represented here but Korean products dominate. Still, the fresh food is abundant: meats, poultry, seafood, vegetables, and prepared foods.

Since it opened its doors, H Mart has been jammed. (H stands for hanahreum, literally “armful’’; the company says it means “love and care for the customers.’’) The tall, slim Chung, 46, who owns several Jae’s enterprises in Boston and Western Massachusetts, is drawn to the store, to the bins of spicy kimchi, crocks of salted seafood, sacks of grains. Chung is touring the mega-market to explain ingredients and tell us how he’d cook them. One of his chefs, Yeong Sohn, joins us.

We start at one corner of the store, where the banchan (little dishes) and kimchi (fermented vegetables) are located. This is what you would find in a supermarket in Seoul. Chung was born in Seoul and moved to Clarksburg, a tiny town in the Berkshires, when he was 13. “I was the only foreign kid in town,’’ he says. Sometimes it embarrassed him to bring friends home because of all the unusual food smells and herbs his parents were drying that might have seemed weird.

At H Mart, Chung is right at home. Banchan, which are seasoned vegetables, tiny fish, seaweed, and wild herbs, are the base of a Korean meal. Chung notes that these prepared dishes will save home cooks hours of work. “This is a real boon for the Korean housewife,’’ he says. “Making these side dishes is labor intensive.’’ His parents made all these things themselves when he was growing up. The case is brimming with 20 kinds of kimchi, which is on the table at most Korean meals. “I like the New York [brand] kimchi. It is all natural with no MSG,’’ says Chung. H Mart carries other MSG-free brands. On weekends at H Mart, women wearing rubber gloves are making fresh kimchi and the lines to buy it are long.

Chung opened his first Jae’s Cafe in the South End in 1990 followed by seven more. The original location is still open, as is another in Brookline. He was one of the first restaurateurs here to make pan-Asian food. Today he lives in North Adams with his wife, Suzanne, and 7-year-old daughter, Hanul, and has restaurants in Pittsfield and North Adams.

At H Mart, Chung sees crocks filled with raw salted seafood in spicy sauces. “I love this stuff,’’ he says, and points to pollock roe, which is thousands of tiny eggs in a natural sack. Serving instructions are simple: “Drizzle with soy sauce and sesame oil and sprinkle on minced scallions,’’ he says.

The meat case is filled with cuts you don’t see at regular supermarkets: pork belly, sliced beef and pork for stir-fries, chicken feet. Chung picks up a package of something marked “LA beef short ribs’’ (LA is a type of bone-in rib, thinly sliced for table top barbecue). He likes these. “Good marbling,’’ he says. Then a quick recipe: “Sprinkle the meat with salt and pepper and marinate in a mixture of grated Asian pear, ginger, garlic, sake, soy sauce, and sesame oil for three to four hours. Cook in a frying pan or under the broiler. Serve with red leaf lettuce, red pepper paste, some raw garlic.’’

In the seafood department, most of the fish have heads and tails intact. There are fewer boneless pieces available, but lots of ready-cut sashi mi, split blue crabs, and pre-packed seafood hot pot ingredients ready to mix with water. Lobsters are in tanks, abalone is in the freezer section, and clams and mussels are on ice, ready for customers to scoop their own into a plastic bag.

An entire department is devoted to dried seaweed. In the produce section, there’s everything from lettuce to lotus root. Chung notices chubby white radishes called mu, something like daikon; slender red and green chili peppers; and unusual varieties of mushrooms. A refrigerated case is loaded with a half dozen brands of tofu in textures from silky to firm, as well as custard-like for sundubu chigae (tofu stew). Soy bean sprouts are beside the tofu. Korean Rx for colds: “Combine garlic, beef stock, and [soy] sprouts,’’ says Chung.

The restaurateur spots a mountain of Napa cabbage, the kind used for homemade kimchi. “Thirty years ago in Clarksburg we could only get the round green kind [of cabbage]. My dad made the kimchi and buried it in the backyard - the tradition.’’ In Korea, the cold ground kept the fermenting cabbage at the perfect temperature and provided vegetables when none were in season. Now some families in Korea and here have kimchi refrigerators that control not just the temperature but also the distinctive odor of fermenting vegetables. On the way to housewares, you can see one of these nifty fridges. You’ll also find specially designed plastic ware for kimchi, and the latest in electronic rice cookers, well-designed table top grills, steamers, and tableware, including stonepot bibimbap bowls.

“I’m just so happy to see these Korean items in a store like this. Usually you can only find them in mom-and-pop stores,’’ he says. He thinks H Mart is trying to appeal to a broad spectrum of Asian and non-Asian families, but notices that most of the food and housewares are items from Korea.

We round the corner, passing a store-long aisle of noodles, and turn into an alleyway of rice and grains. Brown, white, short grain, sweet rice, and dozens of others share space with bags of barley, millet, red adzuki beans, black and white soy beans, sorghum, and lentils. “Koreans like white rice, but it has no real nutritional value,’’ says Chung. “When I was in school in Korea, the government introduced all these beans and legumes to cook with rice and improve nutrition. The teacher would check our lunch boxes and you would get hit if your rice didn’t include a healthy mix of beans.’’ Many Koreans make their own rice blends today, but premixed grains are now available for the daily pot.

An abundant market makes customers hungry. We lunch on reasonably priced dishes in the food court: bibimbap, the classic rice and vegetable pot; sundubu chigae, the soft tofu dish; ja jang noodles, a spicy Korean-Chinese favorite; tteokpokki, rice cakes shaped like small tubes bathed in a fiery sauce; and Korean sushi, called kimbap.

H Mart president William Choi says the decision to open in the suburbs reflects the large Asian population now living outside the city. In fact, most customers are Asian. Those who aren’t, like Joan McDonough and her daughter, Melanie Donlan, both of Watertown, may receive advice from grandmotherly shoppers. “Eat kimchi. It will never make you fat,’’ announces Soon Kim, a handsome and slim 74-year-old from Salem.

Chung likes the notion that Korean food is being brought into the mainstream. “You’d think I was in Korea,’’ he says.
H Mart, 3 Old Concord Road, Burlington, 781-221-4570. For locations of Jae’s restaurants, go to www.jaescafe.com
For more photos go to The Boston Globe's website

© Copyright 20092009 The New York Times Company

For boat's chef, some thrills and spills

2009-10-05T22:45:00.033-04:00

Keeps crew happy with comfort food

By Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent

September 23, 2009

GLOUCESTER HARBOR - The schooner Roseway, a 137-foot former fishing boat, lurches through the waves, and doors flap to the rhythm. time,announces Jessica Reale, who quickly secures the kitchen cabinets with bungee cords. The 26-year-old chef works quickly, holding a door closed with an elbow while hooking the cord under the cabinet before another wave knocks her and everything in the cupboard off balance. The next lurch pushes her into the electric stove, which has pot braces for the burners. A huge pot of clam chowder is practically stirring itself.

The hardest part of cooking on a boat is when I am feeling seasick,says Reale. A brownie batter in a large baking pan has pooled at one end.
Reale, an East Bridgewater native, cooks three meals a day for the 10 crew members of the Roseway, which docks in Boston Harbor during the warm months when guests aren't onboard.

The boat is used by the World Ocean School for education programs for schoolchildren. Today, there are 30 passengers - the Roseway is racing other tall ships out of Gloucester - and all will have lunch with the crew.

The chef was up an hour before the crew, preparing homemade blueberry pancakes and coffee. One by one, sleepy crew members climb the ladder from their bunks in the fosle (boatspeak for forecastle) into the cramped galley. Deck hand Margo Vanderberg, 30, grabs coffee and walks the five steps to the other end of the galley, descends into the dining area, piles pancakes on her plate, and tucks in.

We love Jess,says chief mate Andrew Kaiser, 23. Hey Jess, he asks, did you grind the flour for the pancakes?
Reale, who has a head of brown curls and a contagious laugh, is a Culinary Institute of America-trained chef. She had managed and cooked at restaurants in Florida and Maine, but had never been on a sailboat before this job. The galley is her domain and also the universal pass-through to sleeping quarters, dining room, engine room, deck, shower, and the only toilet. Storage in the kitchen is under floor boards and behind stairs; two portholes have ever-changing views.

The boat's food budget is meager. Reale spends $5.50 per person per day. You can do a lot with that if you shop smart,she says. The crew likes meatloaf, soups, and homemade breads. brought my professional books but find myself mostly using the only cookbook in the ship library, The Joy of Cooking,she says.

The Roseway sets sail for St. Croix in November. know staples will be more expensive down there, but I am looking forward to the challenge. Off the Massachusetts coastline, the crew dines on chowder. The chef uses canned clams when fresh ones aren't available. She sets a pot of creamy chowder beside ham and cheese sandwiches on homemade baguettes and adds a platter of oddly shaped brownies (they baked on a sea-induced angle).

Hours later, the Roseway, which finishes in fourth place in the race, returns to Gloucester.
On a typical day, Reale would prepare dinner now. She bought chicken earlier in the week and cooked it to make fajitas with corn tortillas and her own guacamole.

Tonight, Reale catches a break. All the crews have been invited to a potluck dinner.
Fajitas are on tomorrow's menu. Hopefully, so are calmer seas.

To learn more about the Roseway, go to http://www.roseway.com/

To hear Jess talk about her role as a chef and meet her mates watch the video taken by Boston Globe photographer John Tlumacki

http://www.boston.com/video/viral_page/?/services/player/bcpid19067533001&bctid=41478825001

The flavors of Sicily, topped with tradition

2009-09-02T15:17:00.012-04:00

Concetta checks the pizza sponge as Angela makes the sauce.

Twice a month, Concetta Cucinotta and Angela Molinario spend the day making pizza for their family in the kitchen of Cucinotta’s home in Dedham.

By Debra Samuels

Globe Correspondent / August 12, 2009

DEDHAM - The old yellow plastic tub, covered with a soft, well-worn blanket, sits on Concetta Cucinotta’s kitchen table. You can almost see the blanket moving. Under it, a mound of yeasty, bubbly dough is spilling, like molten lava, over the sides of the tub. Lively Italian folk music is coming from a CD player and Cucinotta periodically breaks into song.

It’s pizza day for Cucinotta and her sister, Angela Molinario, a ritual that takes place twice a month. The sisters spend the day shopping, cooking, and feeding their families - along with anyone else who shows up. The crowd is rarely fewer than 15.

Cucinotta, in a flowered apron, starts to tame the dough. With a flick of her wrist, she scatters flour onto a big board and kneads the mass into submission. When you start with 10 pounds of flour, this is no simple feat. She makes quick work of forming six pieces for bread, six for pizza, and at least one mound for the Sicilian calzone called scaciadda (ska-cha-da).

The sisters immigrated to the United States in the early 1970s from the village of Saponara near Messina, Sicily. Their mother, Maria Gangemi, always made pizza for the family; the daughters have continued the tradition for the last nine years. Molinario is a seamstress in Lexington; Cucinotta, now retired, worked on the housekeeping staff of Children’s Hospital Boston.

Today, they’re making sauce and toppings that include sausage, onions, peppers, and pepperoni. Molinario sautes two huge onions in olive oil. When they begin to brown and release their aroma,
she lifts them out of the skillet and stirs tomato paste and two large cans of ground tomatoes into the pan. “That’s the secret,’’ says Molinario. The tomato mixture sizzles and splatters and absorbs the onion flavors left behind. Eventually she returns the cooked onions to the skillet with dried oregano and basil, black pepper, and water.

An ornery stove that’s seen better days doesn’t always deliver consistently high heat, so the sisters jack up the temperature to 550. Somehow it turns out crusty masterpieces with an occasional burnt loaf.

Cucinotta hands off pieces of the dough to her sister, who lays one on a worn rimmed baking sheet. She presses and stretches the dough to fit the rectangular tray. Molinario grates bricks of mozzarella and lays the toppings within easy reach. “They are like a machine, these two,’’ says Enza Hart, Cucinotta’s daughter. Each pizza is spread with sauce and scattered with toppings.

One is cheese only, another pepperoni, and so on. The diminutive duo - both sisters are under 5 feet - make the pies they know their family likes.

Still singing, Cucinotta lets the loaves rise on a floured bed sheet spread on the table, covering them again with the blanket. Her calzone goes into a rectangular baking dish. She rolls a piece of dough and sets half of it in the dish; the rest hangs over the edge. She heaps on onions, potatoes, sausages, and escarole, then folds the soft dough over the top, crimping the edges shut.

Cucinotta’s husband, Giovanni, comes in through the side door. He’s been shopping in the North End and sets down his haul of groceries. Giovanni gets the first hot slice. He pours himself some potent homemade wine. Giovanni points out a photograph of himself, standing in a hard hat on an empty, soon-to-open Zakim Bridge. His daughter explains: “My dad was a construction laborer for 30 years, and he worked on the bridge. His grandkids call it Nonno’s bridge.’’
Those kids are trickling in, along with some nieces. Aunt Angela gives 13-year-old Jennifer Hart a little knot of fried dough dipped in sugar. The phone starts ringing. “Is it ready yet?’’ ask the callers.

Everyone who knows the sisters knows it’s pizza day.

© Copyright 2009 Globe Newspaper Company.

Feast day calls for a special sweet

2009-03-25T10:19:00.005-04:00

photo by: Debra Samuels Zeppole with vanilla cream and amarena cherries

By Debra Samuels
Globe Correspondent / March 18, 2009
In Italy tomorrow, men named Joseph and women named Josephine will hand out zeppole, a Neopolitan pastry of fried dough filled with cream, to family and friends to mark the feast of San Giuseppe. Closer to home, this patron saint of families is given his due at Italian bakeries in the area.
At Modern Pastry in the North End, baker Dago Ortez has been making zeppole for 19 years. Ortez uses an old-fashioned scale with free weights to measure his ingredients; the dough is fried twice and fillings are made from scratch. "I make these with my heart," says Ortez. Originally from El Salvador, Ortez was taught the art of making zeppole by Giovanni Picariello, whose son John, a sixth-generation baker, now owns the bakery with his sister Rosaria and mother Josephine.
Like many labor-intensive pastries, zeppole are no longer made by the women in the household. "My mother-in-law is from Sicily and she used to make them, but she doesn't do it anymore," says Paul Ursino, owner of Salem Foods, an Italian deli in Waltham. So Italian bakeries have become the surrogate nonne (grandmothers), and their pastry chefs work feverishly during the weeks leading up to the feast, known here as Saint Joseph's Day. Ortez says he can make, and sell out of, 400 zeppole a day; as Saint Joseph's approaches, he sometimes makes up to 1,000 daily.
Zeppole vary from region to region but are basically made of a choux paste (cream puff) dough. At Modern Pastry, Ortez's movements are like a choreographed dance sequence. He brings a huge pot of water and fat to a boil, then pours it into a commercial-size mixer. Then he adds the measured flour in one movement and sets a large paddle to work combining this into a paste. Ortez has ready a 2-quart metal pitcher filled with 160 eggs that he rhythmically cracks - klink, crack, klink, crack, klink, crack - adding three at a time to the paste. Using only his eyes and experience, he knows when to add the next three, and the next three, until the paste is a perfect consistency. There is no rushing this process.
Next he scoops the paste with a rubber spatula into long pastry bags fitted with a star tip and pipes large rings onto a baking sheet covered with parchment paper. Two cauldrons of hot oil are ready. Ortez slips the rings from one sheet into one of the pots. Picariello explains: "We fry the rings in two different vats of oil. One at a low temperature - it helps the zeppole rise. The other, very hot, where they cook, expand in size, and fill the entire surface of the cauldron."
In constant motion, Ortez sways back and forth between the two vats swirling the zeppole until they are perfect. With a wire basket he scoops these amber jewels from the bubbling oil and sets them on a baking sheet. Piled high atop a glass case, they wait to be plucked and filled to order with a vanilla custard made from whole milk on the premises and studded with sweet and sour ruby red amarena cherries, also freshly made, and sprinkled with powdered sugar. Other fillings available are ricotta cream or chocolate custard; the zeppole sell for $3 apiece.
Teresa Scialoia is on her way back to Florida and is stocking up on some favorites at the bakery before heading to the airport. "I used to work here so whenever I come back I stop by. Too bad I can't take the zeppole on the plane."
She is joined by her sister-in-law Carolina from Medford and a friend from Saugus named Fran Contino. Both have family members with the name Joseph. "This is the only place I come" for zeppole, says Contino, eyeing the pastries. Carolina will return with her 21-year-old son, Joseph, who will buy a dozen. "It is our tradition," she says.
"People want me to have the zeppole all year round," says Picariello, "but then it wouldn't be special."
Modern Pastry, 257 Hanover St., Boston, 617-523-3783 and 20 Salem St., Medford, 781-396-3618; http://www.modernpastry.com/
© Copyright 2009 Globe Newspaper Company.

Gifts that keep on giving

2009-02-09T15:43:00.002-05:00

Gifts that keep on giving
In the right hands, cookware makes for happy returns

By Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent December 22, 2008

If you're still looking for a holiday gift, think outside the mall. In fact, think outside all your usual places. The Institute of Contemporary Art's museum shop offers many ultra-hip selections (including an index of chopping boards so you don't mix chicken with veggies). Or head to the North End to Salem Street True Value Hardware, where ravioli molds are nestled beside pizzelle makers. If the person on your list is practical, you might find something at BMS Paper Co. in Jamaica Plain. It's not just paper, but all manner of objects for the sweet and savory professional or home kitchen.
The ICA's gift shop is just a few steps down from the glassed-in lobby. Artful displays range from a funky Banana Bunker ($4.95) to store in your briefcase or knapsack, to the graceful Asian-inspired porcelain teapot ($165). Hard plastic Solo drinking cups ($1.99) are playfully arranged and based on the undulating soft Solo cup landscape in an exhibit by artist Tara Donovan. Retail operations manager Victor Oliveira draws inspiration for his products from ICA shows. U+, the high end of the Umbra kitchen line, is a favorite throughout the store. The company's elegant salad set, called Ensalada ($99), includes a thick glass bowl (red or white) with a pair of magnetic stainless servers that fit together like a puzzle. Chilewich's op-arty white vinyl dots come as placemats ($6.95) or table runners ($24.95).
The Knot Wine Rack ($138) is beautiful even when empty. That pesky business of keeping poultry away from other kitchen tasks is solved with the Index Chopping Board System ($75), which integrates four colored boards in a sleek storage unit. Off kilter and in neon, Hula Vodka and Tumbler Glasses (four for $29.95 and $39.95) may tickle a friend with a sense of humor.
Ken Rothman's family has owned the North End shop Salem Street True Value Hardware for 44 years. In the window, a kaleidoscope of enamelware colanders ($16.99 to 29.99) is your first clue that there's more here than plungers. Mindful of his location, Rothman stocks a selection of hand-cranked pasta makers ($69.99), wood gnocchi boards ($6.99), ravioli stamps ($7.99), and pizzelle makers ($69.99).
Bialetti stovetop espresso makers range from one cup ($21.99) to the larger Mukka Express ($89.99). You'll also find espresso cups and saucers, available in singletons or sets of four ($4.99 to $8.99). (When you're done, walk a few paces to Polcari's at 105 Salem St. for a pound of beans to go with the new coffee maker.) True Value also carries Terra Allegra, an earthy 5 1/2-quart clay baker ($89.99) with a deep red glaze for beans, soups, and cassoulets. Use this pot directly on the burner with a heat diffuser under it, in the oven, in the microwave, or on an outdoor grill. Gloveables ($14.99), those fun rubber gloves, are for friends who want to be fashionable at the sink; glass storage containers and spice jars are for filling before you give away; and a selec tion of cast iron, the longest-lasting and most practical cookware, is for giving away and buying for yourself too.
Don't be misled by the name BMS Paper Co. Paper products are only part of what's in this cavernous treasure chest of a store. The place also sells restaurant and baking supplies, industrial-size jars, canned and frozen foods, and spices. Owner Bob Harrington says people come into his Jamaica Plain store and "wander around for hours." To that end, they might find a 100-quart stock pot ($149) a more practical 8-quart size ($25), and every capacity in between. Whatever you see comes in incremental sizes. Ladles, for instance, go from 1 ounce ($2.29) to 32 ounces ($7.99); mixing bowls start at 3/4 quart ($1) and go up to 16 quarts ($12.75). Whisks, slotted spoons, tongs, and spatulas hang together in a collage. There's a whole section devoted to old-fashioned diner supplies like thick white American-made dishes and mugs. You can even buy those stainless steel cake stands with plexiglass tops that house mile-high frosted confections ($25.99 for a top and stand). Long-handled wood pizza paddles range from $18 to $30.
It's a good bet people will be cooking more at home next year. Your gifts may play starring roles in the months to come.
BMS Paper Co., 3390 Washington St., Jamaica Plain, 617-522-1122.
Institute of Contemporary Art, 100 Northern Ave., Boston, 617-478-3163, http://www.icastore.org/.
Salem Street True Value Hardware, 89 Salem St., North End, Boston, 617-523-4759.

Bap till you drop

2009-02-09T14:04:00.006-05:00

Bap till you drop
By Debra Samuels, Globe Correspondent November 5, 2008

In Korea, some foods trickled down from the Imperial palace and others have humbler origins. Bibimbap seems to be somewhere in the middle - a dish thought to have been introduced to Korean monarchy by the court of China, but also served to farmers in their fields.
This layered specialty consists of rice, meat or seafood, and seasoned vegetables, topped with an egg. It's as much a part of the Korean table as risotto is to Italy or paella to Spain. Unlike those dishes, bibimbap isn't made with uncooked rice, but rather with the cooked grains, which makes it more akin to Chinese fried rice. In this country, look on the menu of any Korean restaurant, and you'll find at least one version of bibimbap. In Korea, there are restaurants that specialize in the dish.
Ingredients vary according to region and season. Bibimbap can be served hot or at room temperature. A stone pot version, called dolsot bibimbap, is made in a well-seasoned stone bowl ($25 at Korean markets), which produces a crisp, crunchy bottom. When it's done, the rice continues to cook and crackle from the heat of the stone. Whatever the cooking pot, the dish always contains vegetables, which might include bean sprouts, carrots, cucumber, and spinach. After cooking, the ingredients are combined with a flourish and finished with sesame oil and spicy red pepper sauce. Hence the name bibim (mixed) bap (rice).
Every Korean mother prepares the dish. "Making bibimbap was a way for my mom to clean out the fridge of all the leftover side dishes," explains Kiki Oh, owner of the Bibimbab Cafe in London, made famous by Margaret Drabble's novel "The Red Queen," which starts in 18th-century Korea and ends with Drabble herself enjoying a bowl of bibimbap in Oh's cafe.
At home, bibimbap is a project. Unlike Chinese fried rice - where all the vegetables are stir-fried together and mixed into the rice - bibimbap's vegetables are cooked separately before they're added to the grains, which accentuates individual characteristics such as sweet, crunchy, salty.
Some cooks think mixing the dish at the end of cooking is important to how it tastes. At Seoul Food restaurant in Cambridge, the servers want you to enjoy the dish properly, so you may find your spoon pulled out of your hand and your dish folded together with the runny egg by one of the staff.
Boston University graduate student Kelly O'Leary is besotted with Korean food in general and bibimbap in particular. O'Leary, chef at the Bayridge residence in Back Bay, is in the Master of Liberal Arts program in gastronomy. "I just love the beauty of the dish," says O'Leary, who is writing a paper on bibimbap. "I eat a dish and then deconstruct it." Recently she attended a Korean food festival in New York, where a 500-pound bowl of bibimbap was served to hundreds of passersby in Manhattan's Koreatown.
To make the dish, use an old-fashioned American cast-iron skillet, which gives the rice its nice texture and holds in the heat as you serve it. Consider the presentation more relaxed than royal.
Debra Samuels is coauthor with Taekyung Chung of "The Korean Table."

*For photos on how to make bibimbap go to: http://www.boston.com/lifestyle/food/gallery/05bibimbap/

RECIPE
Bibimbap Recipe
Serves 4

Make bibimbap in a deep cast-iron skillet, which produces a crispy crust on the bottom, or a nonstick skillet. The dish consists of rice and toppings, including an egg. Here are instructions for bean sprouts, carrot salad, cucumber salad, spinach, beef, and a tangy red pepper dressing. Use about 1 cup of each. This recipe has one egg, but you can also make one for each person. Add them to the bowls after serving.

SPROUTS
1/2 cup water
1 teaspoon salt
12 ounces soybean sprouts
2 scallions, chopped
1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds
1 tablespoon dark sesame oil

1. In a medium saucepan, combine the water, salt, and sprouts. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat to low, cover, and steam for 5 minutes.
2. Strain the sprouts and transfer to a bowl. Add the scallion, sesame seeds, and sesame oil.

CARROTS
1 tablespoon dark sesame oil
4 carrots, cut into matchsticks
1/2 teaspoon sea salt

1. In a skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the carrots and salt. Stir-fry for 2 minutes.
2. Remove them from the pan.

CUCUMBERS
4 Armenian or pickling cucumbers or 1/2 English cucumber, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons red pepper dressing (see below)
1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds

1. In a large bowl, toss the cucumbers and salt; set aside for 5 minutes. Gently squeeze the liquid from the cucumbers. Transfer to a bowl.
2. Add the dressing. Sprinkle with sesame seeds.
RED PEPPER DRESSING
2 tablespoons Korean red pepper paste (from a Korean grocery)
1 tablespoon rice or cider vinegar
1 teaspoon honey
1 tablespoon apple juice or water
2 teaspoons sesame oil

1. In a medium bowl, whisk together the pepper paste, vinegar, honey, juice or water, and sesame oil.
2. Set the dressing aside.

SPINACH
1 pound fresh spinach, rinsed and stemmed
2 tablespoons toasted sesame seeds
2 tablespoons dark sesame oil
1 teaspoon salt

1. In a pot of boiling water, cook the spinach for 1 minute. Drain and rinse with cold water. Squeeze out the water by the handfuls. Chop coarsely.
3. Transfer the spinach to a bowl. Add sesame seeds, oil, and salt.

BEEF
2 ounces beef rib eye, cut into strips (or use ground beef)
2 teaspoons soy sauce
1/2 teaspoon sesame oil
1 teaspoon brown sugar

1. In a bowl, combine the beef, soy sauce, sesame oil, and sugar; marinate for 15 minutes.
2. Heat a small skillet. Stir-fry the meat for 2 minutes; set aside.

ASSEMBLY
2 tablespoons sesame oil, plus more for sprinkling
3 cups cooked white rice
1 egg, fried sunny-side up
3 tablespoons red pepper dressing (see above)

1. Set a 10-inch skillet over medium heat. When it is hot, add 2 tablespoons of sesame oil. Heat for 1 minute.
2. Add the rice and spread it around the bottom of the pot to form an even layer. Cook for several minutes or until the rice begins to brown on the bottom and you hear the grains sizzle.
3. Carefully arrange each of the seasoned salads on top of the rice, grouping them like the spokes of a wheel. Set the beef in the center. Continue heating for 2 minutes. Set the egg in the center.
4. To serve: Add the dressing and fold the rice, vegetables, egg, and meat together, scraping the bottom of the pot to distribute the crust. Serve in individual bowls, sprinkled sparingly with sesame oil and extra dressing. Adapted from "The Korean Table"

What's a Sox game without dried squid and beer?

2008-11-27T15:00:00.001-05:00

TOKYO - Peanuts! Popcorn! Squid jerky, anyone?

The manekki nekko (beckoning cat), its paw raised in welcome, is the theme for this shop, which has cute, expressive cats from floor to ceiling, most handmade.
The Boston Red Sox play their season opener nine days from now at the Tokyo Dome, once home field to their relief pitcher Hideki Okajima, a former member of the Yomiuri Giants. And instead of those sausage and onion subs on Yawkey Way, fans will be munching dried squid, soy beans, fried noodles, and sushi along with their burgers and corn dogs.

If anyone wants a beer, young women come around with backpack kegs and fill a cup for about 800 yen ($7.50). And there's the organized cheering, replete with complicated clapping rhythms, chanting, and hand motions. Sox fans can start their own: "Gambare Reddo Sokkusu!" (Let's Go, Red Sox!)

Shopping for Major League Baseball paraphernalia? On the main concourse is a rare place where Yankee and Red Sox gear is laid out side by side, as are posters of two of Japan's current elites playing Stateside: Daisuke Matsuzaka and Hideki Matsui.

The stadium, part of the Tokyo Dome City entertainment complex, is anchored on one end by the Tokyo Dome Hotel and the other by a spa and multilevel outdoor shopping mall. From one end to the other there are family friendly restaurants and amusement park attractions. Thunder Dolphin, an erector-set-like roller coaster, slips its screaming passengers through a hole in one building before it descends precipitously and through another hole in the colossal "Big O" Ferris wheel. But it is not all "Fear Factor"-type rides. There are plenty of mini-thrills for young children, like whirling cups and a carousel.

The popular "takoyaki" - big round pancake balls stuffed with octopus and topped with seaweed shavings smothered in a savory sauce - are available at the shop Tsukiji Gin-daco. Visitors can snack while watching the Water Symphony, a shallow pool with a chorus line of water jets shooting high into the air synchronized to arias and Broadway tunes. On the sixth floor is one of Japan's greatest natural resources, the "onsen" (natural hot spring), at Spa LaQua. Natural hot springs bubble up through the earth's core right into the pipes of the indoor and outdoor shallow pools. Aches and pains can be kneaded out at one of the many massage venues.

At the end of the day, The Artist's Cafe on the top floor of the Tokyo Dome Hotel is a great place for drinks. Here patrons sit on the stools at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows and look out over the capital sparkling all around them.

From that lofty height, with Tokyo's glamour on display, one wouldn't guess that there are areas nearby that still retain their old neighborhood flavor. Sugamo, just three subway stops from the Dome on the Mita Line, is a deeply urban section considered a fashion and lifestyle haven for seniors. Don't be put off. This place, with its temples and bargain shopping, is interesting for any age.

Sugamo may be Japan's capital of red wear. Red is an auspicious color in this country and the Japanese believe the center of a person's well being resides in the stomach region. Protect and keep this area warm they say, and you will gain strength and happiness. So seniors flock to shops like Maruji, one of many along Jizo Street, for "akapantsu" (red undies), also fondly referred to as "power pants." This is not Victoria's Secret lingerie. It's cotton over-the-belly wear and it's available along with red belly warmers, red boxers, red long underwear, even red socks.

Health is serious business in Japan and Sugamo is usually crowded with shoppers and wellness seekers. Before the start of Jizo Street is the temple Shinseiji, site of one of the six largest jizo statues in Tokyo. (A jizo is a guardian saint in Buddhism.) With an umbrella-like hat fanning out over his 9-foot frame, this jizo sits atop a pedestal amid the smoke from lighted incense sticks. This is the place to pray for health.

Beyond the temple, through the arches, is the main shopping street, Jizo Dori. The aroma of roasting soy sauce wafts from a shop selling handmade rice crackers piled high in an old wooden display case. Inside patrons sit at the rear on one of the wooden benches surrounding a charcoal pit. There's no charge for a warm cup of green tea.

Farther down the street is the gate of Koganji Temple, where the middle-aged and elderly come in droves to fix what ails them. On the temple grounds are stalls selling talismans, antiques, old kimonos, and even salted pickles. Inside the temple a priest chants above the steady beat of a drum. But the big attraction at Koganji is the statue of Kannon, a female saint who represents mercy and salvation. Families stand in a snaked line awaiting their moment with the saint. They carry white towels, available for purchase, to wash and dry the part of the body that ails them or a loved one. The cloth is then taken home to rub over the afflicted area.

The shops along Jizo Street are always bustling, but on the 4th, 14th, and 24th of each month the atmosphere is festive. That's when outdoor stalls set up to sell food, roots, trinkets, spice, and herbal mixtures. At the spice stall buyers choose their own blend of black and white sesame seeds, shaved seaweed, and cayenne pepper. For souvenirs there are "daifuku," sweets made from rice flour and bean jam, and sesame cookies with imprints of the jizos

Fuyusha stocks crafts made from Japanese fabrics: stuffed folk animals, mobiles, handbags, hair clips, and pocketbooks. There is no shortage of Japanese tchotchkes here - and none is terribly expensive.

With its good humor and boundless vitality, Sugamo never gets old.

Not far from Sugamo, at Nippori Station on the Yamanote rail line, is the more tranquil Yanaka, which escaped damage from the Kanto earthquake in 1923 and the fire bombs of World War II. The neighborhood has retained many of its old wooden structures, including the tile-roofed homes of merchants and more than 80 Buddhist temples. During cherry blossom season the next few weeks, Sakura Dori (Cherry Blossom Road), bordering the Yanaka Cemetery, becomes an arborway of pink.

Although the area has a vibrant main shopping street, Yanaka Ginza, it is the side streets that are the most fun. They are filled with small temples, antiques shops, folk crafts, and artisanal food. One shop sells handcrafted "tenugui" (handcloths) with folk designs.

The Asakura Choso Museum is closed on Monday and Friday. The exterior of the famous Japanese sculptor's home is Art Deco modern, the interior traditional Japanese, with a beautiful garden.

Farther along is Space Oguraya, a gallery for visiting artists in what was once a storehouse for family treasures. Its museum is housed in a former pawnbroker's old wooden shop. Takao Ito, the owner, displays his mother Toshi's paintings of early-20th-century Tokyo. Her scenes from daily life between the world wars depict women and children sewing, folding origami, drying persimmons, and playing games. Ito sells colorful postcards of the paintings in the shop attached to the gallery.

On a street near Yanaka Ginza is Jomyoin Temple, famous for its 84,000 jizo stone statues stretched out row after row. Beyond the temple, shops along the narrow road sell traditional wooden sandals, fashionable clothing, bedding, and green tea. Most are on the ground floor of old wooden structures, some in better condition than others. The area is home to the distinctive architecture of old Tokyo. Here the aroma of grilled chicken attracts a crowd purchasing food to take home for dinner. Another group gathers around a shop known for its potato and meat croquettes.

At the end of the street are steep steps leading to Nippori Station. It's a tough climb at the end of a long day wandering some of Tokyo's old neighborhoods.

Debra Samuels, a freelance writer in Lexington, can be reached at debrasamuels@yahoo.com.

Thinking inside the box

2008-11-26T21:55:00.001-05:00

More people than ever are packing a lunch for work or school. The number of ways to carry the meal have grown, too.
Are you still brown-bagging it? If so, it may be time for a change. Lunch has evolved beyond the sandwich, and lunch containers have kept pace. They keep your salad crisp, your dressing separate, your drink cold and soup hot, and your taco intact.

JoAnne Anderson, marketing manager for Pacific Marketing International -- the parent company of Aladdin, the lunch box manufacturer, and Stanley, the thermos maker -- says research indicates more people than ever are bringing their lunch to school and work, for economic, nutritional, and environmental reasons. What they bring that lunch in now includes reusable sandwich wraps that wipe clean, bowls outfitted with yogurt-holding ice packs, and containers with serious style.

Kids' lunch totes are still adorned with superheroes and princesses, but instead of metal and hard plastic boxes, they are soft, insulated sacks with pockets for cold packs and elastic bands for securing bottles. Betsy Block, author of the newly published "The Dinner Diaries: Raising Whole Wheat Kids in a White Bread World," says that "if the cheese gets wet or the x chips soggy, my little daughter, Maya, won't eat."

But as Block shops for containers that forestall those disasters, she is also concerned about safety. She cautions that consumers need to know what containers are made of. "Look for ..... 1(PETE), 2(HDPE), 4(LDPE) and 5(PP) in the recycle triangle," says Block -- these are OK. "Even if the risk is small, why take the chance if you have choices?" She recommends the National Geographic Green Guide website (www.thegreenguide.com/doc/77/plastics) as a place to educate yourself.

Deborah Hamilton, creator of the website www.lunchinabox.net, spent nine years in Japan and became besotted with bento, the Japanese portable meal that is the ultimate in compartmentalized lunchboxes. Healthy food arranged attractively for both kids and adults is serious business in Japan. Her website illustrates the lunches she packs for her young son. "Basically I am too lazy to make him something different from what we eat at home," says Hamilton, "so it is all in the packing." She has a collection of cute Japanese-style lunchboxes for her son with all manner of sauce containers, appealing muffin holders, and cartoon-character-shaped molds for rice balls or sandwiches. Her website has recipes, excellent tips for making food in advance, product reviews, and information on bento boxes. Although some might be intimidated by the lengths she goes to for her son's lunch, the site has practical information and is occasionally inspirational. Tokai Japanese Gifts (617-864-5922) at the Porter Exchange in Cambridge has bento boxes for adults. (They are also a great way to practice portion control.)

Several new products help reduce the amount of disposables. Wrap-N-Mat is a square of fabric lined with plastic (the good kind) that closes with a Velcro strap to wrap sandwiches or cookies. When opened, it doubles as a place mat. Wash and dry overnight and use again and again. (Bye bye, baggies.) These are available in a variety of colors and designs (www.wrapnmat.com). Check out the www.reusablebags.com website, which offers items for toting all manner of things around, including food.

Today's containers are often designed with specific foods in mind. There is, for example, a hinged plastic container for a banana (www.bananasaver.com). Fit & Fresh (www.fit-fresh.com) has compartmentalized containers with snap-in, fitted cold packs. There is a carrier for salads with a lid that contains the dressing. Flip open a cap and the dressing drizzles onto the salad. The Breakfast Chiller comes with a doughnut-like ice pack that surrounds a container for milk or yogurt.

Among local stores, Target seems to have the largest variety of lunch solutions. You will find them in the housewares, back-to-school, and outdoors departments. A young cashier got really excited as she scanned a bunch of saladware. "Wow! I stopped bringing salad to work because it got all mushy. These are way cool."

Get healthy, be frugal, and go green. If you can make it, you can take it -- in safety and style.

Swooshing through a spa in high-tech Tokyo

2007-06-03T14:19:00.001-04:00

TOKYO -- Spa LaQua is a contemporary take on one of Japan's national treasures: the "onsen," natural hot springs that bubble up from deep inside the earth. Such resorts are a popular destination for Japanese and are found from north to south on the archipelago.

Spa LaQua's saltwater springs come from about 5,500 feet below and contain minerals said to be good for your skin, arthritis, and muscle fatigue. Located in the happening Tokyo Dome complex, Spa LaQua (pronounced la-koo-wa) takes up several of the top floors.

As I enter the spa, I place my shoes in a cubby. At the reception desk I am issued a Lucite bar and a wristlet with a digital code. I'll use this for any purchases or treatments, including massages, food, and drink. It is also my locker number. This cashless system makes it easy to spend money -- one pays on the way out.

As I enter the dressing rooms I have a choice of three types of stylish spa-issued jammies and get a net bag with towels. (At a traditional onsen , guests receive a cotton kimono called a "yukata.") I wave my wrist in front of the locker scanner and it opens. Then all I have to do is leave my clothes and inhibitions behind.

The locker rooms and bath areas are segregated by sex. Bathing in an onsen or public bath is a communal affair. Although everyone is naked it is very modest. All I am wearing now is my wristband. I bring that rectangular piece of white cloth they call a towel with me as I take to the waters.

Knowing the proper etiquette for bathing in Japan will put you and your fellow bathers at ease. I overheard one group of foreign guests say they had brought their bathing suits because they didn't know what to expect. You will be more conspicuous if you are wearing your bathing suit instead of your birthday suit. Their suits were left in the lockers.

That little towel is important. First, you can drape it modestly in front of you. Second, it is used for washing, which is what patrons do before they go near the deliciously warm pools of water. I walk through the doors into a huge area of knee-high three-walled cubicles. Each has a spigot, bucket, soap, shampoo, and conditioner. I scrub and rinse until clean. In the women's area there is usually lots of chatter. After washing I have several choices. The indoor shallow saltwater pool is pleasantly hot and usually the first stop. Women are submerged to their shoulders. The white towels are now folded in neat little squares and top their heads or wrap their hair.

Now for the dry and wet sauna options. The dry sauna has a huge TV. I was in there when a comedy show was on and everyone was giggling and sweating. Then there is a cold pool to immerse in. My husband told me to just get in and count to 11: I'd either be dead from the shock or have gotten used to it. The wet sauna has a natural amethyst-colored rock spotlighted as vapors swirl about it. In the water massage section bathers sit submerged to their necks and move from station to station, with water jets perfectly positioned to hit targeted body areas.

Then comes the body cleanse treatment , for which you make an appointment using the telephone on the wall. This could be daunting if you don't speak Japanese, but a staff member or a fellow bather will help. There are several rubber-matted tables and some deceptively dainty-looking women waiting to scrub and slough off dead skin. There are several "courses" to choose from. I choose the half-body back scrub for 15 minutes and about $20. I could have sworn the person was wearing gloves made from Brillo pads.
I head out to the "rotemburo," or outdoor pool, enclosed by high fences and greenery. There is a wooden arbor over the stone pools. The cold January air feels good as I sink into the natural pool, look up into the winter night, and see a perfect half moon. Suddenly I hear a rumble of a roller coaster as it ascends just above us. Then the happy, hysterical screams of those crazy riders as it descends. I think, I am in the buff, outside in the center of Tokyo, in the middle of winter, in hot water with a bunch of strangers, with a gazillion tons of metal whooshing above me. Who's nuts?

I head back to the locker room and put on my jammies and pad out in bare feet to meet my husband in the "relax lounge" -- a huge room with dozens of the cushiest recliners. Each chair is equipped with a TV screen and a phone for chair-side service (beginning at 6 p.m.) for beer, sake, lemonade, or a snack. Or you can walk up to the snack bar. Just wave the wristlet and your selection is added to your tab. The freshly squeezed grapefruit juice hit the spot.

It is quiet in the room except for the occasional snore coming from under a blanket. A huge wall of windows looks out onto the roller coaster. After an hour or so we head to a restaurant just down the hall. Dress code: PJs. The choice is between a contemporary Japanese or a Korean BBQ restaurant. We have eaten at the Japanese restaurant several times and have been happy with cold beers, creative salads, and small plates of grilled fish, sashimi, and "yakitori" (grilled chicken on a skewer). There are lots of options and pictures on the menu. I flash my wristlet again. It's addictive.

The spa offers 11 beauty/massage options, including facials, hair and nail salons, foot massage, head massage, Hawaiian and Thai massages, reflexology, and color therapy. Courses range from 20 to 100 minutes. Prices are prominently posted, but a translation may be needed.

I pass the gift shop and purchase candy in a tin box. Swoosh, swipe that band. My husband and I separate for a final soaking. The women's changing room is outfitted with so many amenities I want to try them all. There are rows of counters with mirrors, hair dryers, and every type of face product for free. There are baskets with disposable toothbrushes with the paste already on. Forgot your hairbrush? No problem-- reach for a sanitized brush. There is even a vending machine with personal items like razors and underwear.

When you check out you discover what all that swiping cost. Sticking to just the bath and relax lounge with no extras the fee is about $23. The extras do add up but not prohibitively. One entry fee with a meal and a few beers is about $75.

So if you are heading to a Japanese onsen, the only word you will really need to know is "ahhhhhh."

In the heart of Chicago, hardy food full of comfort

2007-04-22T14:17:00.001-04:00

CHICAGO -- On a recent visit to help my son settle into his apartment off Lake Shore Drive, I opened the fridge to look for something for breakfast. Skunked!
On his way out the door to register for classes, he said, "Mom, try Valois on 53d Street . They have the best breakfasts, it's a friendly place, and cheap. Just don't worry about the nutrition thing."
Caffeine deprived, I whined, "How am I going to find it?"
"Just look for the sign that says, 'See your food.' "
Creeping along in a jumbo jet of a rented car, I turned onto a main shopping drag, and just a block later, there it was, Valois Cafeteria See Your Food.

It was warm and bright inside. The smell of coffee was almost as satisfying as a sip. Setting down my coat before I joined the line of hungry patrons, I glanced at the plate of the man sitting at the next table. Was that mashed potatoes, gravy, and scrambled eggs? He noticed me peering at his plate.
I just had to ask, "Excuse me, sir, are those mashed potatoes and gravy on your plate?"
"Yes, ma'am, that's exactly right," he answered in a broad Chicago accent.
"Is that a specialty in Chicago?" I asked.
"Not particularly -- but you can get it anytime you want here. Would you like to join me for breakfast," he said with a smile.
And with that I spent the next hour sharing a meal, talking about family, politics, sports, and, of course, food with John Casillas, a major in the Army Reserve. Casillas, 47, has been coming to Valois (vuh-loyz) for breakfast "almost every day since 1988." That is, when he isn't deployed to Korea, Kuwait, or Iraq.

Sitting down with people you don't know is a tradition at Valois.
The range of outfits in the line of customers included teens in hip-hop gear, professors in tweed, city workers in overalls, and women in fur coats. Everyone dines here. According to Bill Bogris, who works here with his uncle Gus Sellis and co-owner Spiro Argiris, more than 80 percent of the customers are regulars and some eat multiple meals here each day.

There is nothing American about the village of Ahladokambos in Greece, where Sellis and Argiris are from, and nothing Greek about the menu at Valois. But adorning some of the walls are murals of Greece alongside famous places here in Hyde Park .

This is down-home American cooking with heavy Southern touches. For breakfast, there are grits and gravy, eggs every which way, huge raised biscuits, and pancakes the size of the 10-inch plate (three to a serving). You can choose sides from pork patties, links, or bacon -- some customers choose all three. "This is the food your mom made on the weekends for breakfast -- only we have it every day," said Bogris.
The lunch and dinner menu could be a page out of the classic Fanny Farmer cookbook: stews, pot pies, meat loaf -- all comfort food, all the time. "See Your Food" is exactly what you do at this 86-year-old restaurant. The line cooks perform like athletes. The sound of spatula scraping the griddle is a constant. The place is clean; the food is real and real cheap.

My scrambled eggs, grits, links, coffee, and biscuits cost $5.23. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, and broccoli to go cost $5.75. The beef is rare and sliced just before you eat. I asked Bogris how they can serve this food at these prices. "You give people good food at reasonable prices they are going to come back," he said.
A similar dining institution is Carson's Ribs, a famous barbecue restaurant downtown . This is a large place with high ceilings. The walls are covered with photographs of local and national celebrities who come to dine. There is usually a long line and just so you won't die of hunger , there is a big sideboard with baskets of rye breads, crackers, and an enormous mound of chopped liver. There was no line on this evening, but I swiped a smear anyway. It tasted like the real deal.

I was urged to go for the sampler: ribs, pork, and chicken. Everything was moist, delicious, and had been smoked on the premises. There must have been 300 grams of protein on my plate, which was not tarnished with anything green. The meat comes with a side of Carson's famous cole slaw, which is treated like a salad. A waiter offers ground pepper .

The potato offerings are numerous: au gratin, baked, double baked, skins, french fries, french fried sweet potatoes, or a vegetable. The baked potato was so big it made me wonder about the fertilizer. For good measure we got a side of the fried sweet potatoes, which have a light seasoning of sugar and cinnamon. They were unique, crispy, and delicious.

Next to us was a table of men laughing, gnawing ribs, and licking the sauce from their fingers. This is not a delicate dining experience. There was a young Japanese woman, with her shopping bags and guide book , sitting alone. She was making her way through her plate of food in a most decorous manner with a fork and knife -- but she might have been the only one in the place doing so . A group of girlfriends came in, sat down , and immediately began singing and slap-clapping a rhythmic version of "Happy Birthday."
My advice: Do not go to these places with a card-carrying member of the nutrition police. You want to enjoy your demise. Give in, then get out your sneakers, and walk it off.

COOKBOOK REVIEW'Japanese Cooking' is still the master

2007-04-11T14:15:00.001-04:00

Japanese Cooking: A Simple Art,
By Shizuo Tsuji, Kodansha International, 507 pp., $45

When "Japanese Cooking: A Simple Art" first came out 25 years ago, sushi was exotic, teriyaki was the sauce, and miso soup was for the macrobiotic crowd. No one who frequented the few Japanese restaurants in American cities could have predicted what would happen in just over two decades.

The late Shizuo Tsuji mastered Japanese cuisine, then French. He started the Tsuji Culinary Institute in Osaka in 1960 to train chefs, and it remains one of the well-respected cooking schools in Japan. He wrote this encyclopedic book to share the "essence and spirit" of his native cuisine. In this 25th anniversary edition, the content is the same as the original. There is a foreword by the late food writer M.F.K. Fisher and a preface by Tsuji, both of which are from the first volume, as well as a new foreword by Gourmet magazine's Ruth Reichl, and a preface by Tsuji's son, Yoshiki.

Yoshiki Tsuji considered an extensive revision of the book, but in the end rejected it, he writes. He still sees this as an "almost perfect Japanese Cooking 101," and he is right. It is to Japanese cooking what "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" is to French cuisine.
"Japanese Cooking" is divided into two parts. The first offers detailed chapters on ingredients, a deconstruction of the Japanese meal, equipment, and techniques. Each cooking method -- among them steaming (mushimono), simmering (nimono), and grilling (yakimono) -- has its own chapter, with a few recipes to illustrate each technique. The explanation on simmering, for instance, discusses the round wood covers that go inside pots to maintain the shape of the food and help the seasonings become absorbed. Tsuji suggests using an aluminum pie plate for this if cooks don't have multiple wooden covers the way Japanese kitchens do.

The second part is divided again by cooking techniques and categories such as noodles, sashimi, and rice dishes, along with recipes that reflect them. In some instances, you need to refer back to the first part of the book, where Tsuji offers exhaustive explanations on how to salt a fish or bone a chicken thigh or make a particular sesame dressing. Line drawings throughout take you, step by step, through unfamiliar territory.

Though not much of what's here is new -- only eight pages of color photographs have been added. What is remarkable is how many of these recipes are now in Americans' everyday lives. Edamame, the fresh soy beans, are a favorite snack. We can find local sushi bars and order uni (sea urchin) and toro (tuna), and the ingredients for seaweed salad are at many supermarkets. Pages of ingredient sources, in fact, listed state by state in the original, don't exist in this new release.
I bought the first "Japanese Cooking," and it anchors a collection that now fills several shelves. Even with many choices, the book still remains my go-to for reference and classic recipes. When Tsuji called his volume "a simple art," you have to realize that a single shrimp floating in a clear fragrant broth, garnished with a sliver of lemon rind, looks easy enough. But the shrimp has been somehow folded onto itself, the clarity of the broth seems unattainable, and coaxing just the right amount of fragrance from the lemon rind is a lesson in restraint.
But we have decades to master all this.

A sweet Portuguese tradition

2007-04-04T14:14:00.001-04:00

EAST CAMBRIDGE -- You might walk right past Central Bakery without knowing there's a behemoth workroom just beyond the glass cases in the front. There, year round, bakers churn out Portuguese sweet breads and rolls.

At Easter, the round sweet breads are made with more sugar and more butter and baked with a hard-cooked egg and a decorative braid. Some of these breads are sold at local supermarkets, but the bulk go to hundreds of loyal Portuguese customers who wouldn't think of having Easter without the breads they call "folar " in Portuguese .

"I have a lot of customers who buy several loaves and ship them as gifts all over the country to relatives who have moved away," says co-owner Michael Vital.

Central, which has been in business since 1919, makes over 2,000 loaves with more than 14,000 eggs just for Easter week . Vital was 16 in 1981, when he started working for his father, who owned the bakery. Michael purchased the bakery in 1995 with John Carvalho and Tony Medeiros.

Maria Nunes, who works at Central, sees how excited customers are when they come in for the rounds. "The bread is so good that people are tearing off pieces and eating it in the car, on their way home," she says. Nunes grew up on Saint Michael in the Azores. "My grandmother used to make all of us kids special breads. Mine was in the shape of a doll and the egg was the face. The boys got a heart or round with the egg in the center." The egg is not just for decoration. She explains that people who didn't have enough to eat considered an egg a treat.

As to the significance of the egg, Vital says, "Tradition, I guess."

"Do you know?" he asks Nunes and Jose Vicente, a carpenter doing some renovation for the bakery. Both shrug and offer this: "Tradition!"

Vital speculates that the Rev. Jose S. Ferreira , pastor at Saint Anthony's, might know.

Saint Anthony's, or Igreja de Santo Antonio, is a modern building a block from the bakery. Ferreira, who comes from Vila Verde in the north of Portugal, has been at Saint Anthony's for over 14 years. The meaning of the egg inside the bread, he says, is indeed tradition. "Spring, in nature, is the beginning of new life. Easter is a time of renewal and the Resurrection . The egg is the beginning of life."

With that and good bread in mind, customers crowd Central Bakery this week for loaves. Some contain up to six eggs, and those are surely saved for special meals. For eating in the car on the way home, there are breads with a single egg baked inside.

Better than takeout

2007-01-31T14:11:00.001-05:00

A splash of soy sauce, a drizzle of sesame oil, a little rice wine, a smashed clove of garlic, chopped scallions, and a knob of ginger. You have the aromatic elements of a simple Chinese stir-fry. Exotic bottled sauces or even a stop at an Asian grocer aren't essential to make an authentic dish.

Stir-frying has become as much a part of our culinary repertoire as steaming or broiling. Today, many woks share kitchen space with frying pans in cookware departments and on bridal registries. To stir-fry, use any wide implement that you can scoop under food in a hot pan and just keep it moving.

You can make a fine stir-fry with a minimal amount of oil. The most important part of the dish is good preparation. The actual cooking is done in a flash over high heat. Finely chopped garlic, scallion, and ginger go into a small bowl; seasonings such as soy sauce, sugar, and wine go into another.

This is not a chop-as-you-go operation. Cut up all the vegetables and arrange them on a platter next to the seasonings at the stove. Begin with the finely chopped seasonings. Then add the vegetables, in this case cabbage, shiitake mushrooms, celery, red pepper, carrots, and broccoli. Even broccoli stems can go into the dish. Peel them and slice them into 1-inch diagonal chunks for great crunch. If the vegetables are all the same size, they'll cook evenly. Fresh or dried shiitake mushrooms add heft and a musty flavor. In fact, dried mushrooms, reconstituted in hot water, are more flavorful than the fresh and the soaking liquid can be added, too.

When all the vegetables are in the pan, add a small amount of water or stock, cover the mixture, and steam the dish briefly. A dash of sesame oil releases a nutty aroma. Serve with a bowl of white or brown rice.

Recipe
Stir-fried vegetables: Serves 4

1/4 cup water or chicken stock
2 tablespoons soy sauce
1 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons Chinese rice wine
6 button mushrooms, quartered
1 cup bean sprouts
2 teaspoons sesame oil

1. Heat a wok or large frying pan over high heat for 30 seconds. Add the oil and swirl it around pan. Add the garlic, ginger, and scallions. Stir-fry for 30 seconds.
2. Add the cabbage, shiitake mushrooms, celery, red pepper, carrot, and broccoli florets and stems. Stir-fry for 2 minutes.
3. Add the water or stock, soy sauce, sugar, salt, and rice wine. Cover with a lid and cook the vegetables on medium-high heat for 2 minutes more.
4. Uncover the pan. Add the button mushrooms and bean sprouts. Stir-fry the vegetables for 1 minute more. Turn off the heat. Sprinkle with sesame oil. Stir again and serve with rice.

A cookie contest keeps friends together through the years

2006-12-20T14:10:00.001-05:00

WEST PEABODY -- They call themselves the Agawam Babes, and for 16 years, these girlhood friends have been getting together in each other's homes for brunch and a cookie swap. It started as a way to stay connected despite marriages, kids, and jobs. The group has changed over the years, but the core has stayed solid.

The Babes include the Nascembeni sisters, Karen and Sandra; the Gatti sisters, Dina, Lisa, and Lynn; and Kathy Walsh Bautze and Pam Lombardini. They all grew up in the same neighborhood in Agawam, in Western Mass., attending the same schools and church. All in their mid-40s to early 50s now, they're still dear friends. Their annual event takes cookie swapping to new heights.

This year, Dina Gatti Bona, 44, dressed in a shimmery red top, is hosting at her home here. Everyone comes with several dozen cookies. They contribute confections to a common plate, and after brunch they have a contest -- a serious tasting, in fact -- to decide the best. There are rules: no one can help you bake, no mixes, when it's time to vote you can vote for yourself, and, of course, you have to be from Agawam.

By 10 a.m. on a recent Sunday, Bona's house is a flurry of activity. Bing Crosby is crooning Christmas carols and the friends are laughing, reminiscing, and grumbling about the packaging becoming a craft project. Lombardini, 51, is arranging cookies on a two-tiered platter. Karen Nascembeni, 44, is dramatically recounting how she shelled dozens of pistachios for her entry. Her sister, Sandra McArthur, rolls her eyes. Then Nascembeni notices large chocolate cookie sandwiches. "Who brought these big mothers?" she asks. "They look so unhealthy." Without skipping a beat, Lombardini says, "They are."
Lisa Gatti Whelan, 48, and her twin, Lynn Gatti Walton, share a photo album and charts of past entries. Bautze, 45, cutting bread, hears someone say that her husband helped print the recipe. Uh-oh. "You're disqualified," she shoots back.

Bona tells the group how her power went off, she almost had a nervous breakdown, and she was up into the middle of the night making cookies. No sympathy.

They toast with mimosa cocktails, and the 16th Annual Catty Cookie Swap begins. Cookies are placed on the table; each baker offers an explanation and gives her personal "year in review" -- heartfelt, funny, and bawdy stories about families, jobs, and life in general. Nascembeni, last year's Cookie Queen, wearing her feathery crown, starts. Her lemon pistachio wreaths go on each plate. McArthur presents Italian horn cookies.

Bautze offers lime-coconut snowballs; Whelan has made red-sugar-dusted poinsettias and her twin offers coconut-cherry chews. Lombardini talks about the effort it took to make her chocolate peppermint confections. Bona explains how to make hazelnut macaroon domes.

In addition to the crown, the winner gets a wire whisk scepter and a satin sash with stamped gingerbread men down one edge and "Cookie Queen" on the other. Over the years, the recipes have become more complicated, the packaging more elaborate. If one person's presentation becomes all glitz and glamour, everyone else follows.
After the tasting, it's time to crown the queen. Each participant writes a name on a piece of paper, ballots are folded, and placed in a bowl.

Hostess Bona opens the first ballot and shrieks out her own name: "Dina!" Next, "Karen!" Then: "Dina!" "Dina!" In the end, Bona's hazelnut cookies with ganache are chosen, and for the fifth time she is queen. With scepter and sash, she throws kisses and thanks the group in a queenly way.

The Agawam Babes roar with laughter.

And they seem to be planning how to unseat Bona next year.

Getting schooled in Korean cuisine

2006-12-06T14:08:00.001-05:00

CONCORD -- Spatula in hand, prep cook Domingos Netos is frying dozens of sunny-side up eggs on the griddle in the open kitchen of Concord Academy's cafeteria. Hundreds more eggs are ready on commercial-size baking sheets. But this isn't breakfast. The eggs will top the Korean seasoned rice dish bibimbap. Dozens of bowls of this Asian classic will be served for lunch today.

The private school is hosting chef Hak Joon Kim of Incheon, Korea, who is participating in the Global Chef Program run by Sodexho, the school's food service. For two days recently, Korean kimchi, the fiery cabbage salad, shared space with the salad bar and cold cuts.
When Kim arrived, Sodexho's general manager at the school, Dennis Gallant, wanted the Korean chef to teach the staff how to cook short grain rice properly. The grain is already a menu staple, and the staff had been using a giant rice cooker, but the students -- six percent come from South Korea -- kept telling the kitchen that something just wasn't right. Kim immediately identified the problem. No one was rinsing or soaking the grains before cooking, resulting in very sticky rice. Yes, short grain rice is called sticky rice -- but it should not be sticky enough to elicit comments.

For this lunch, Kim seasons a fresh bone-in mackerel stew, called mugulguk, with a piquant sauce of red pepper paste scattered with scallions. A radish and oyster soup, along with kimchi, round out the menu.

Before students and faculty come in for lunch, food services manager Herb Read is helping spoon the now perfect rice into black plastic bowls for the bibimbap, while Kim adds a savory mixture of vegetables and beef, then tops each with an egg. The kitchen is filled with the aromas of sesame oil and soy sauce. Kim garnishes a big bowl of kimchi with a yellow rose carved from a turnip-like vegetable. Read, watching, says that Kim "treats all food with respect."

To serve the students, the Korean chef takes a spot at the counter alongside an interpreter. Curious students ask questions and take some of everything on their trays. No one makes a face and all seem intrigued. Some of the Asian students chat with Kim in Korean.
Lewis Selas, a sophomore, usually has pasta for lunch, but today he is trying fish. "Holy mackerel! I don't eat fish," he exclaims. Senior Annie Lobel says "This is amazing. They should do it every day."

While one group of Korean students comments on the authenticity of the bibimbap, junior Hae Sung Kim is munching on a quesadilla. "The line was too long," he says.

Holly Fowler of Sodexho's Education Division is here to see how the program is working. "Typically you think students won't try [unfamiliar] foods," she says. "We do those programs in many schools and they eat until the food is gone!"

A few stragglers make their way to the counter. Not a grain of rice is left. Dinner tonight for the school's boarding students -- and day students who don't want to miss out -- will be dwaejigalbi-jjim (braised spareribs of pork) and doraji and oi-saengchae (seasoned bellflower root and cucumber). Rice is soaking and Netos is prepping vegetables.

Kim, energized by the response of the students, says, "It was an explosive experience for me."

Sharing the pleasures of real sushi

2006-10-18T14:06:00.001-04:00

Hiroko Shimbo has been teaching Japanese cooking in her native Tokyo, New York, Spain, and England for 15 years, which has given her new opportunities in the restaurant industry as Americans become ever more captivated with the food of her culture. She was the culinary consultant for Taneko Japanese Tavern , which opened earlier this month in Phoenix . She is the author of ``The Japanese Kitchen," an accessible volume introducing readers to the basics of the cuisine, and "The Sushi Experience," published this month, which takes sushi-lovers from the simplest hand rolls to complex nigiri-zushi -- raw fish on finger-size beds of rice -- the real test of a sushi chef. Along with step-by-step photographs, Shimbo explains how to cut fish yourself.
We spoke by phone from her kitchen-office in New York, where she lives with her husband, James "Buzz" Beitchman , a telecommunications expert. Shimbo thinks Americans are becoming more sophisticated in their taste for sushi and sashimi and now want authentic dishes. There is a large repertoire of home-style sushi made for picnics, lunch boxes, and celebrations. Start with the basics and build up your skills, she advises, because information and confidence are key.

Q. What it was like growing up in your mother's kitchen?
A. My mother's kitchen was a wonderful busy, busy place. My father was a physician. His clinic was attached to our house. We had patients staying at the clinic so my mother always cooked a large amount of food both for the patients and then delicious dinners for our family. My sisters and I were always hanging around in the kitchen. We were raised with delicious food. We naturally developed a love to cook and eat.

Q. Did you help your mother?
A. Not when we were small, though we did carry the trays to the patients. When we grew up we helped quite a lot. But with my two sisters and mother in the kitchen, it became quite aggressive! Many women!

Q. Americans read that Japanese businessmen come home late after an evening out with co-workers and expect a hot meal. Did your mother have dinner waiting for your father?
A. My father was always there so my mother made breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He was a very lucky guy. But yes, most of my friends' husbands come home and eat with their families only once or twice a week. It is a very common pattern. I think the younger generation is changing. When the Japanese economy slumped in 1990, the companies cut back on entertainment budgets, so businessmen had to eat at home more often.

Q. We hear the complaints that younger Japanese women don't cook anymore. What are they serving their families?
A. It is true. They are feeding their families prepared foods bought at the supermarkets and food courts. Many buy frozen food they reheat at home. It is very disappointing.

Q. When we hear "food court" we think of cafeteria-style places in shopping malls. In Japan, though, these refer to boutique-style stalls on the lower floor of Japanese department stores.
A. While the presentation is wonderful and the taste is actually pretty good, prepared food contains quite a lot of additives so I don't buy them no matter how appealing it looks. It isn't everyday food.

Q. Can ordinary people afford this?
A. Yes, prepared food can be reasonable. You can choose the more expensive food in the boutiques or those sold at 7- Eleven or other convenience stores.

Q. How did you begin teaching Japanese cuisine?
A. I was a Japanese language teacher, but teaching language is teaching everything, from how to bow, culture, history, food. Language is based on these pillars. One day a student said, "Why don't you teach us how to cook a Japanese meal?"

Q. Did you teach from your own experience or go to culinary school?
A. Mostly from my own home training. Like most Japanese ladies, after graduating from university, looking for a future husband, I went to a cooking school. But I learned nothing at that cooking school. In Japan, students don't ask questions. We just receive whatever they teach us. I was living in Japan and had an American husband, and had many foreign students. They asked me how to make miso, how to make sake, how to make rice vinegar. I couldn't answer these very basic questions. I was frustrated, so I started to contact artisans and manufacturers and learned from them.

Q. How did you learn how to make sushi?
A. I attended the Tokyo Sushi Academy. It sounds like the military. The president started this school in 2002. They offer expensive and intensive sushi training for one month. One month is so brief, but every day starts with cooking sushi rice and filleting fish. We also learn to make nigiri-zushi, the rice ball with a slice of sashimi on top.
After that I did research on all aspects of sushi -- tradition, history, culture, and recipes. This included interviews with sushi chefs, rice farmers, wasabi growers, knife makers, wholesalers, and fish mongers.
Because I was raised with real sushi, I was initially quite disappointed to see how sushi evolved in America. People started with unconventional sushi, like California roll [avocado, crab and cucumber] to suit the American palate. Then came sushi with mayonnaise dressings. However, sushi chefs can be more creative here. This is now even popular in Japan.

Q. Who is the audience you have in mind for "The Sushi Experience?"
A. Raw fish lovers and those who are not so keen on it -- which makes everyone! I want people to know that sushi is not just raw fish. Fifty percent of the recipes are made with vegetables, cured fish, seafood and omelet.

Q. Many skilled Japanese sushi chefs seem quite skeptical that non-Japanese can prepare this food. What do you think?
A. I agree in part. Take the Japanese chef who trained in Italy. They can cook pretty good Italian food but they haven't been raised as Italians. Food is not just preparation. The Japanese are very stiff in their mind-set that somehow a non- Japanese can master the Japanese language, or that a non-Japanese cannot really understand the Japanese mentality. These attitudes are too extreme. However, when it comes to sushi preparation, especially nigiri-zushi, there are so many things that you need to know about the fish, the specific way to make rice. It really takes long years of training.

Q. There is an impression in Japan that America has no food culture beyond hamburgers and fast food. Having lived in the United States, what is your impression?
A. Oversized! This is a country where things are always changing because of the addition of new immigrants. This has had a big influence on American food. One thing I don't like here is the concept that bigger is better and quality is not much of a concern. When people ask for larger sizes, food loses its quality.

Q. What do you think of the concept of an all-you-can-eat sushi buffet?
A. That is awful. I don't know what kind of sushi they offer, mostly rolls. When it comes to raw fish, it is expensive and if there is any place that says "All-you-can-eat raw fish sushi," I just doubt the quality of the fish. Certain expensive fish cannot be offered so generously.

Q. What advice do you have for Americans eating at a Japanese restaurant?
A. In Japan, restaurants are highly specialized. Here the Japanese restaurants aren't. Everything is on the menu like yakitori, tempura, teriyaki, katsu [fried foods], and noodles. But the Japanese food boom has finally arrived. In New York City and on the West Coast there are more authentic Japanese restaurants which serve more unusual dishes. Try what you haven't tried before.

Hiroko Shimbo will be at Boston University’s Seminars in Food, Wine, and the Arts on Monday from 6 to 8 p.m. The fee is $65, which includes tastings and a copy of her new book. Call 617-353-9852.

Competition cooks up at a 4-H county fairFood and Fun Club members put their kitchen skills to the test

2006-09-06T14:01:00.001-04:00

WESTFORD -- Louise Donahue looks for an empty cake rack on her kitchen table, brimming with baked goods. "We've already had one disaster today," she says as she sets down the hot pan of butterscotch bars her 10-year-old son, Greg, has prepared for the 51st annual Middlesex County 4-H Fair. The bars go next to the "disaster," a plate of very flat cranberry cookies that taste great but don't have that blue-ribbon look.

The kids won't let them go to waste: "Dad will eat them," they chime.
With Donahue's attention focused on daughter Sarah's gingerbread batter, Greg pokes the top of the warm butterscotch bars, denting the once perfect crust. Uh-oh. Mom looks up. From under his brown curls Greg croons, ``I just wanted a taste." Mom sighs.

Sarah, 15, holds dripping beaters over a bowl as she walks from the counter to the stove to pour batter into a greased pan. Oops. The batter trails from table to hot stovetop like a sticky version of Hansel and Gretel's crumbs. The smell of burning gingerbread hits the air before the pan even gets into the oven. Just as the words "Sarah Donahue" leave her mom's lips, Sarah says, "Chill, Mom!" Twelve-year-old Shannon is at another table carefully measuring six cups of popcorn into a bowl for clusters she'll enter in the nutritious snack category.

It's good old-fashioned fun, the 4-H way, and the children are learning it from their mother, a freelance computer programmer who leads the 12-member Food and Fun Club in her spare time. Donahue was an active 4-H - er growing up in Woburn, and she relishes the chance to pass on the program's philosophy of ``learning by doing" to her children and club members.

Despite the occasional slip-ups and all the activity, Donahue, 48, runs a very organized kitchen andis a calm, cheerful, and patient teacher. She gently guides Greg's hand away from a cocoa cake batter to a waiting custard dish as he measures vinegar into a spoon. At the sink, he adds water into a liquid measuring cup and plunges a turkey baster into the cup. Before he is snagged for fooling around, he explains he's just trying to suction the water off to the one-cup mark. ``What a good idea," says his skeptical mother. But the extra water is just too tempting; Greg squirts it around the sink.

Sarah and Shannon, working independently, reach for plastic bags that hold the dry ingredients for herb bread, apple cake, banana bread, and biscuits, all pre-measured the day before and stacked in a corner of the counter ready for the wet ingredients. Sandra Lee may espouse the virtues of "Semi-Homemade" on the Food Network, but these girls are making their own cake mixes, from scratch.

MORE 4-H PHOTOS View a photo gallery at www.boston.com/ae/food.
A few miles from the Donahue house in a rural corner of Westford, the smell of fresh-cut grass and hay mingle at the Middlesex County Fairgrounds. On this Aug. 23 evening, crickets are singing, and 4-H-ers and their families empty the trunks of their cars and fill the shelves and walls of the brightly lit exhibit hall with their baked goods, art, photos, vegetables, wood working, sewing projects, and jars of jams, jellies, pickles, and honey. All are to be judged the next day. From the other side of the fairgrounds, you can hear a neigh, a baa, and a moo. This could be Kansas, except that most people are wearing Red Sox caps.

More than 700 families are involved in 4-H clubs in Northeastern Massachusetts, says Wendy Marcks, the region's 4-H educator, who on this day is sporting the program's four-leaf clover logo on finger- and toenails as she sets up a display in the exhibit hall. More than a century after 4-H began nationally as a collaboration among the USDA, land-grant universities, governments, and other private partners, more than 30,000 young people in Massachusetts are involved in some aspect of the organization. Projects here range from cavies (guinea pigs) to cooking, marine biology, and robotics.

In Donahue's club, members work on crafts, perform community service, learn about food and nutrition, and plan dinners for their families. Entering the fair is voluntary, but as Penina Buonsanto of Westford says, "it is nice to get ribbons and show people what you are capable of doing." Buonsanto, 15, who won a blue ribbon one year with her mom's apple pie recipe, says she has learned many useful things in Donahue's club, such as ``clean as you go," something most adults fail to master.

Kristiana Graves is making Oreo truffles, a combination of cookie crumbs and cream cheese rolled into a ball with a white candy coating. "I chose this recipe because everyone loves them," says Graves, 15, who lives in Littleton. "I always read the judges" comments because I want to do better next year."

Another club member, Jennifer Couture, says she learned about the food pyramid, how to read a recipe, and how to handle "dangerous kitchen tools." Besides practicing cooking with her club mates, she learned canning skills from her mother, Brenda Couture, also a 4-H-er. "I enjoy putting things together to get a final result," says Couture, who lives in Billerica. When this 12-year-old traces the process of making pickles or talks about attaining the proper temperature when making jelly so it coats a spoon, she sounds like a veteran USDA extension agent.

For this, the largest all-youth fair in the state, more than 150 entries compete in some 30 food categories, including drop cookies, cornbreads, single- and double- crust pies, refrigerator cookies, yeast breads, quick breads, and novelty cakes (for looking at, not for eating). The rules require a fixed number of items (such as six cookies) set on plain white paper plates and enclosed in plastic bags. No doilies or decorations. These items stand or fall on their own merit. Recipes are attached, and judges know only the category and age of the contestant. The members compete against one another in their age group: novice, junior, or senior. A novice's slightly misshapen chocolate chip cookie is not judged as harshly as one offered by a senior.

Everyone gets a ribbon -- blue (excellent), red (very good), or white (good) -- and a hand-written comment from a judge. Amy Herrick, chairwoman of the fair's Food Department, gives her team of judges guidelines: recipe cards must be complete, products appropriately sized, colors appealing, textures good, and the taste delicious. Herrick says the kids like the competition, especially with the small amounts of prize money, based on a point system. "Some kids are shocked when they have to do something right," she says. "The next year they try harder. They learn to do things correctly."

There is also a "challenge category," in which everyone enters with the same recipe, making it strictly a matter of execution and appearance. This year, Herrick has chosen peanut butter cookies. Fork hatch marks decorate one batch, a sprinkling of sugar embellishes a second, and chopped peanuts top yet another. It doesn't always go so well. One year, Herrick recalls, the challenge recipe was whoopie pies, and one child -- hopefully it was a mistake -- substituted cinnamon for chocolate. ``It was brutal for the judges."

On opening day, Donahue's club members head first to the food department and scatter to find out how their entries fared. Novice Brian Prato, 10, wins a blue ribbon for his peanut butter chocolate chip cookies. "Nice and crunchy," one judge has written, but added: "Need to get cookies in uniform shape." Graves earns a blue for her Oreo confections, and Couture cleans up in food preservation with Top Junior, Top Exhibitor, and Best Individual Exhibit for her blueberry lemon mint vinegar. Her baked goods get top honors, too.
As for the Donahue kids, Greg goes looking for those butterscotch bars -- and finds a red ribbon. ``Good color but tasted flat," one judge has written. (His mom suspects he forgot the vanilla.) But his banana bread wins a blue.

Shannon's apple cake also takes a blue ribbon, and she wins first place in the unfrosted cake category. Her sister, Sarah, takes Best Individual Exhibit with her Orange Blossom Coffee Cake, a fancy yeast bread. The judge writes that it had ``great shape, texture, and taste."
Some things, after all, never go out of fashion.

To learn more about UMass Extension 4-H, call Wendy Marcks at 781-891-0650 or visit www.mass4h.org.
To learn more about the Middlesex County 4-H Fair, visit http://www.middlesexcounty4hfair.org/.

Dress-up season in TokyoSummer spawns celebrations of season and spirits

2006-07-30T13:58:00.001-04:00

TOKYO -- The passion in Japanese souls is never more evident than at a ``matsuri" -- a festival that is part Mardi Gras, part history lesson, and part food festival.

From local neighborhood fetes to large-scale city events, matsuri celebrate everything from rites of passage to changing seasons to local culture. They even are used to give thanks and help purge sins. Often associated with local shrines and temples, matsuri can last two to three days.

Dancing, archery, drum performances, and other traditional arts, as well as open-air food and game stalls can be part of the celebrations. The centerpiece of many festivals is a parade-like event in which portable shrines, called ``omikoshi," are hauled about on the shoulders of men -- and sometimes women -- dressed in dashing outfits.

During the summer, Tokyo is one big dress-up party. The trains are loaded with women dressed in colorful ``yukata," cotton summer -weight kimonos, and men in their ``jimbei ," or fancy pajamas. All are headed to the festivals and their wooden sandals make a slap-clapping sound on the pavement.

Not merely a colorful accessory, but a necessity, the ``uchiwa," summer fan, completes the outfit. They are handed out on street corners by merchants and local officials to help keep the crowds cool.

On a sizzling August evening at the Azabu Jyuban Summer Night Festival, the main attractions are the miles of open-air stalls selling favorite Japanese snack foods. Men and women hawk their wares, vying for the attention of the hungry crowd. Each booth is devoted to a single food -- and each is a delight.

There is ``tako yaki," morsels of octopus in batter, cooked in a cast iron griddle of half-circles. Once the batter is set, the balls are turned using a long pick and a flick of the wrist before they are sprinkled with shaved seaweed. ``Yaki soba" are fried noodles tossed with shreds of vegetables, meat, and ginger heaped onto plates. Next door, there are enormous round potatoes steamed in a stack of wooden boxes, served with a scandalous amount of butter. To beat the heat, there is ``kaki gori," a mountain of shaved ice infused with neon-colored fruit syrup. Roasted ``ayu," river trout, salted and cooked over charcoal, are presented on skewers; their aroma is irresistible. And the all-time favorite, ``okonomi-yaki," is a savory pancake fiilled with shredded cabbage, pickled ginger, and slathered with piquant sauces.

Interspersed among the food booths are carnival-like games of chance. Boys and girls with strainers made of paper squat next to troughs of water trying to scoop up goldfish or little rubber balls . It's not easy to do either before the strainer dissolves.

Follow the sound of drums through the thick crowd to a park on a side street. Glowing lanterns light the grounds where a local group is performing on ``taiko" drums. Their beat is primal and relentless. Nearby everyone is invited to join the folk dances. Dancers move as one, in a circle, to a story told in song and movements.

Later in the festival season, on a sweltering day in early autumn, the voices of revelers rise in unison at the Hakusan Harvest Festival in downtown Tokyo. Intermittent sounds of a leader's whistle punctuate their cries. The deep boom of a large drum trails the omikoshi, providing the cadence that slowly propels the bearers' syncopated shuffle forward.

Prior to the parade, the omikoshi are taken out of storage to the local shrine for a blessing that also allows the spirits of the deities residing within to enter before the annual neighborhood walk about. These bearers are members of neighborhood clubs and civic and business associations who gather to care for and carry the omikoshi.

``Wasshoi! Wasshoi!" -- ``All together! All together!" -- is their fervent cry as the marchers make their way though the streets. Their elaborate shrines, gorgeously handcrafted from heavy timber, can be simple or gaudy, but atop each sits a golden phoenix. Lacquered pieces of timber are set crossways through special holes to form the grid that rests on the bearers' shoulders. No padding here -- this isn't supposed to be easy. Even smaller omikoshi are heavy and need at least 40 bearers, and the larger ones can weigh more than a ton, requiring more than a hundred people surging forward in unison.

Various groups of marchers will relieve others along the route, each group vying to be the most spirited. The festival can actually become quite rambunctious, as the bearers become more focused and more frenzied. Several members of the team guide the omikoshi to stay on course and to keep it from careening into the crowd following along.

As the light begins to fade, the omikoshi is borne back toward the shrine where the gods will reside for the rest of the year. For the final push, a group of particularly brawny and boisterous men take their final turn and hoist the omikoshi high in the air with a huge roar before settling it back down on their shoulders.

By now their shouts are louder and rougher, their pace more feverish. At the base of a slope they stop in a flurry of patterned clapping and chanting. They have reached the entry way to the shrine and slowly , almost dirge-like, creep up the hill and bring the omikoshi to rest under broad gates, where a priest in full garb invites the gods to re enter the shrine.

Aching, but very happy, members of one club gather for a party in an apartment near the shrine. The wife of one of the bearers and her friends have prepared mountains of food, beer, ``shouchu," a potent potato-based alcohol drink, and sake for the men.

Between drinks, an exhausted Yutaka Yamaguchi, 54, a banker and omikoshi bearer for more than 20 years, says he has enjoyed building ``harmony with others while having fun." He and his buddies will travel to more neighborhoods to participate in other festivals where their shoulders are needed.

Sated, but still drinking, the men get louder and looser. They take off their coats and compare the size of their shoulder calluses, jokingly called ``tako."

``Looks like the head of an octopus doesn't it?" said Yamaguchi. The bumps develop from years of carrying omikoshi and are huge, permanent, and borne with great pride.

World of CookingArrive a tourist, eat your mistakes, go home with recipes for a feast

2006-05-21T13:56:00.001-04:00

MENFI, Italy -- We weave our way out of the densely packed city of Palermo at rush hour and drive south through western Sicily. The road slices through a valley surrounded by huge rocky outcroppings. The sky is a deep blue and green fields stretch ahead like a velvet patchwork bordered by a riot of orange, red, and yellow wildflowers. On a hillside, a herd of sheep is so tightly clustered, it looks like a giant ball of moving yarn.

Our destination is the coastal village of Menfi, an easy 1 1/2-hour drive away, to attend a class on Sicilian cooking taught by Natalia Ravidà and experience an olive oil tasting. Off the highway, at the end of the main road, sits the family's 18th-century neoclassical villa. The sea is just beyond and the smell of salt fills the air. We enter the gates and park in the outer courtyard.

Ravidà is a former journalist and now cookbook author, entrepreneur in the family's award-winning olive oil business, wife, and mother. She will share her family's culinary heritage for the next several hours in flawless English.

Joining me is Nunzia Radenmeyer, a South African whose parents emigrated from Sicily when she was a teenager. Like me, she is a cooking teacher. We both thought it would be great to be the students this time.

On our way to the kitchen, we pass a long marble table surrounded by cast iron chairs where we will take our lunch. A large wooden frame window is splayed open so we can see into the kitchen. Across the courtyard, under a tiled overhang and atop a huge grinding stone cum table, we will do the olive oil tasting. Usually, the tasting is done on the Gurra farm, elsewhere on the estate, where students tour the olive groves and see how the oil is processed.

We will be cooking in the home kitchen -- well equipped but not commercial. Although you are in the hands of a professional, it feels as if a group of friends has gathered to prepare a meal. A wooden spoon is propped inside an antique crock of the Ravidàs' own sea salt from local salt flats. Well-worn copper pots hang from a cast iron rack on a long white wall. The ingredients for the dishes are organized by recipe and laid out on an oval marble island in the center of the kitchen. We gather around as Ravidà explains the day's recipes. She introduces Sicilian cuisine by tracing the influences of some of the many civilizations that came through this storied island -- Phoenicians, Greeks, Arabs, Normans, and Spaniards.

She stresses the importance of seasonal ingredients. With recipes in hand, we begin. Ravidà divides up tasks.

We start to chatter and to help each other. Tears run down Radenmeyer's cheeks as she cuts the onions that will go into a sweet and sour sauce. The pit of a black olive shoots across the table as I press too hard on its flesh with the broad side of my knife. Fresh sardine fillets lie glistening next to a plate of homemade bread crumbs, waiting for a light dusting.

Ravidà begins to fill a wok with olive oil to deep-fry hollowed-out eggplants. More surprising than finding a wok in rural Sicily is her using such an expensive oil for deep frying. She explains that good olive oil cooked at such a high temperature can be reused. And she reminds us that the better the oil, the less greasy the food. After several minutes, she removes the eggplants and prepares to stuff them with anelletti, little pasta rings, in homemade tomato sauce.

As we arrange our handiwork on platters, kitchen assistants begin to clean up and set the table. Our stomachs are rumbling, but lunch will have to wait.

First, to the courtyard and the tasting. Six bottles of olive oil and a bunch of little white plastic cups are on a tray on the stone table. Ravidà explains the differences among grades of oil and helps us to understand why one bottle may cost $5 and another $40. We learn about the proper storage of oil and how it can spoil.

She pours about a tablespoon of oil in a cup and demonstrates how to take the oil into the mouth -- sliding it to the back of the tongue where our taste buds register both bitter and spicy flavors. I don't think I mastered the right swishing motion, but I didn't get it all over myself, either.

The tasting begins with rancid olive oil. Whew, is that bad! She introduces successively higher grades, and we begin to discern differences. ''The better the oil the more peppery and bitter it tastes in the back of your mouth," Ravidà explains. By the time we get to her oil, with its peppery surge and light velvety texture, the difference in quality is clear. I cannot claim to have tasted ''a hint of fresh mown grass," as described in a review of Ravidà oil, but it was wonderful and I had an entirely new appreciation. The award-winning Ravidà oil is exported worldwide.

Finally it is time to eat. The atmosphere is informal and friendly. The table is laid with local ceramics. We begin with a crisp Sicilian white wine and the sardine fillets. We raise our glasses to Ravidà, who declares ''Buon appetito," and serve ourselves, family style. We enjoy the baked eggplant stuffed with pasta alongside a very colorful dish of roasted peppers with a caper, olive, and mint sauce. On another platter is pan-fried mackerel with a sweet and sour onion sauce. A large bowl of linguine is tossed with cherry tomatoes, olives, and capers, and a colorful fennel salad with black olives and oranges completes the entrees. For dessert, we enjoy a refreshing gelatin made from mandarin orange juice and its grated rind. The warm spring sun and the wine are working their magic. We could linger forever.

We tour the rest of the house and it is obvious that this was once a grand villa. While it is still elegant, some rooms need repair. Costly renovations to the chipped frescoes on vaulted ceilings and fading wallpapers are underway, and there is scaffolding on the rear of the house. Ravidà's explanation of the project is fascinating. The layers of the family's history peel away before your eyes.

You can spend anywhere from a day up to a week at Villa Ravidà. They are flexible and willing to accommodate your interests. Besides cooking classes and olive oil tastings, there is pizza making at the farm, and guided tours can be arranged to visit surrounding towns and local markets. You will be given a quote based on the package you choose and on the number of people in your party. There is a two-person minimum. Classes run April to July and September to November.

The villa can accommodate up to 10 people. We didn't stay overnight, but the rooms, some of which are in what once were stables, are spotless, if somewhat spare and on the small side. All have a private bathroom with shower. A continental breakfast, served in the villa's dining room, is included. There are many places to sit and sip an aperitivo or read a book when you are not cooking or tasting. This is one kind of rural tourism that is changing the way we think about taking an Italian holiday.

SPRINGTIME IN SICILYIn the markets of Palermo, vendors share deliciously imprecise recipes

2006-04-26T13:54:00.001-04:00

PALERMO, Italy -- Nestled among the faded gray and peeling concrete buildings, some still cratered by World War II bombings, sits one of the liveliest markets in Sicily. Bright red and blue awnings cover hundreds of stalls in the colorful Ballarò, the most extensive of many markets in this charming, chaotic city.

I traverse the warren of vendors and happen upon a butcher selling all the cuts of beef you don't recognize, as well as the innards. A fishmonger cuts thin steaks from local Mediterranean swordfish for a popular dish made with seasoned breadcrumbs. Giuseppe Bronte grabs the stem of a gigantic green-yellow broccolo, a variety of cauliflower, with his rough hands and hacks off the thick stem. Bronte belts out a rhythmic call, letting everyone know what he's selling, his voice joining the cacophony of shouts and sounds.

My husband and I are spending two months in the seaside town of Mondello, just 20 harrowing minutes (what drivers!) from Palermo. Our studio apartment in a wisteria-covered stucco house, set on a steep hillside facing the Mediterranean Sea, has something that approximates a kitchen, with a briefcase-size four-burner stovetop. Two narrow shelves hold sea salt, olive oil, and dried wild oregano, all local staples. A few pots and pans are in the cabinet. In other words, a basic but sufficient setup for exploring Sicilian cooking and the recipes shared with me while foraging through markets.

In Sicily, as in the rest of Italy, if you buy something from a vendor, you're almost obligated to hear what a wife or mother or sister would do with that particular ingredient. Here, everyone has an opinion about cooking. And no one has an exact recipe for anything.

This is a friendly place, and vendors are luring you over to try his goods. A roly-poly baker is selling sesame-studded loaves and pita-like breads with spongy interiors from Monreale, a town famous for its cathedral and bakeries. A few steps away, I encounter a hill of black and green olives, then wheels of pepper-studded pecorino. ''How about a taste?" asks the big-bellied proprietor.

The kind and patient Providenza Di Noto has become a favorite. Her 70-year-old shop is on the periphery of another open-air market, the Vucciria. ''Più o meno" -- ''more or less" -- is how she describes measurements for minestrone soup. Her brother, Sandro, interjects. After a heated exchange about onions, she turns back and says triumphantly, ''One. Big one." Then her usual ''more or less." She puts her index finger to her cheek and twists it -- the gesture that describes anything delicious in Sicily. ''Buonissimo," she says, eyes cast upward.

Di Noto's mixture of dried chickpeas, green and red lentils, white beans, cranberry beans, and split favas sits in a sack near the front of her shop. As she dips her scoop in, she continues her impromptu cooking lesson. I understand about every fifth word, but I do catch how to break the spaghetti into the soup because she mimes it as she goes. The low tables at her stall are covered with hand-labeled packets of mixed spices, sun-dried tomatoes, salted capers, and glass jars of anchovies. Little bags of a currant and pine nut mix, a sampling of the Arab influence on Sicilian cuisine, hang on one wall. Beans in hand, I navigate the narrow lanes to gather the remaining ingredients for my pot.

Later, while the soup is simmering, I get a call from friends of friends. Palermo resident Ludovico Ziino, a retired pediatrician who loves to cook, asks if we can join him and his wife, Giulia, for dinner the next week (like most Sicilians, the invitation is for 9 p.m. -- often my bedtime). Dinner, he tells me, will consist of ''specialties from Palermo -- my grandmother's recipes."

At Ziino's house in the heart of the city, at a table laid with heirloom linens and silver, we dine on large shell pasta tossed with the green-yellow cauliflower I've seen all over the markets and a saffron-scented, slightly sweet sauce made with pine nuts and currants. This dish is typically made with bucatini (pasta straws), but Ziino used shells to better cradle his aromatic sauce. Everyone is chattering about how the dish is made. When I ask how much saffron, Ziino looks at his large hand, puts his thumb to the top joint of his pinky, and in his deep bass tells me, ''About this much -- more or less." I add the cauliflower and pasta dish to my list of meals to try.

Visiting the fish stalls on the pier in Mondello early one morning, I listen as shoppers bargain with the fishmongers. The miniscule, opalescent neonata (newborn fish) glisten in a pile. I turn to the gentleman who has just bought a bagful and ask how to prepare them. Make a little fried fish cake, he tells me emphatically, with olive oil, salt, pepper, an egg, and just enough flour -- more or less! -- to hold it all together. Fry in a spoonful of oil, he continues, and when it turns white, sprinkle with lemon juice and eat right away. This, he says, is ''the end of the world." Then he sighs, dreamily, slightly shaking his hands, which are cupped, prayer-like.

Across the street at the Schillaci family's shop, wooden crates of oranges, pears, artichokes, those handsome giant green-yellow cauliflowers, and eggplant spill out onto the piazza. I buy two pounds of cipolline -- tiny, squat onions -- to prepare in a sweet and sour sauce. This is a recipe that the entire Schillaci family -- and several customers -- gave me the week before.

Offering their advice in loud voices, everyone speaking at once, they instructed me to balance the wine vinegar and the sugar. The amount of each, of course, is several spoonfuls.
That is, more or less.

An American burger in Tokyo

2006-01-11T13:52:00.001-05:00

TOKYO -- Pass the neighborhood shrine, pass the smell of charcoal-roasted fish, pass the sushi shop, pass a noodle spot. Then comes a surprise: The unmistakable aroma of grilled burgers and fries from a restaurant a few doors down.

In Tokyo, anything culinary is a possibility. Yes, there is American fast food here -- McDonald's and Kentucky Fried Chicken are both a presence. But well-made hamburgers and a side of crisp potato wedges is another story.

Daimon Yoshida, 32, was born in Japan but spent eight years in California and Oregon, beginning when he was an impressionable teenager. When he returned home and had a hankering for burgers, he couldn't find any that thrilled him. With a loan from his mother, this handsome entrepreneur opened Fire House seven years ago, and the place is a hit. The restaurant is tuckedamong more than two dozen Japanese eateries along a 150-yard stretch. And while sushi and soba shops on the street have plenty of empty seats at their counters, the hamburger joint boasts lines out the door. Every day, Yoshida and his staff send more than 500 burgers out of the busy kitchen.

Fire House is a step down from the street, where a deck and the outer walls of the shop are laid with wide planks of 150-year-old American wood. With old tools, board games, and lithographs part of the decor, thanks to Yoshida's mother, who dealt in American antiques here, the 30-seat spot feels like a real American establishment. Country music plays and customers linger over lunch -- a rarity in Japan, where the midday meal is often inhaled, while standing, in 15 minutes.

Yoshida's burgers, one-quarter pound each before being cooked on a flat griddle, are hardly lean. ''Perfect ingredients create great food," says the restaurateur, who adds fat from the famous and highly prized Japanese Matsuzaka beef to Australian ground meat because Japanese diners prefer their beef well marbled. Several years ago, Yoshida had to stop using American beef when imports were banned after an instance of mad cow disease was discovered. He won't use Japanese beef, he says, because ''it's too good."

To find the perfect bun, Yoshida taste-tested hundreds until he found the right bakery. Sesame seed buns, something like brioche, are placed on the griddle just before cradling the burgers. The patties are liberally sprinkled with a salt and pepper seasoning mixture that Yoshida made up. Then burgers are constructed: mustard on the bottom bun, lettuce, a slice of tomato, chopped onion, sweet pickle relish, the patty, and finally, mayonnaise.

The stacked burger is tucked into a paper wrapper covering half the bun. On the plate are wedges of deep-fried potato with the skins intact, the outsides crisp, the flesh soft. Some customers use a knife and fork on the burgers, others eat them holding the paper wrapper to catch the drips.
A burger with fries and a pickle starts at around $9, cheap for Tokyo but not as inexpensive as McDonald's, where a Quarter Pounder with fries and a drink costs just over $5. Fire House offers bacon cheeseburgers, chili burgers, and a few Japanese twists: burgers with fried eggs and the hamburgo, served with stewed apples.

Yoshida doesn't want customers to think all Americans eat enormous quantities of food, so he offers a bit more than regular Japanese portions, but doesn't overdo it.
The cooks and the wait staff are in constant motion. So is Yoshida, who has muscular forearms from scraping the griddle with gusto after each order. In addition to the 350 burgers he serves daily on the premises, the shop delivers another 200-plus to neighborhood homes and businesses.

The restaurateur does everything -- both work and play -- with zeal. Now that the shop is running smoothly -- it's open daily -- the chief cook has finally been able to take time off. He spends three months a year in the Caribbean while his staff carries on.
And oddly enough, he doesn't miss the griddle.

Fire House, 4-5-10 Hongo, Bunkyo-ku, Tokyo, 03-3815-6044, or go to http://www.firehouse.co.jp/

The layered look is easy and elegant

2005-08-03T13:50:00.001-04:00

Watching a chef create individual pieces of sushi at lightning speed is quite a sight. Rice is compressed into a perfect oval in a slightly cupped palm and topped with a thin slice of fish. Artistry and skill and many years of practice are in evidence. But without any training or experience at a sushi bar, you can make at least 25 pieces of sushi at one time and present something quite artistic.
To do it, press the rice and other ingredients into a square. Known as oshizushi, or pressed sushi, the dish is made with layers of cooked short-grain rice and fish, then cut into bite-size pieces.
In Japan, a special box made from cedar is used for the dish. A slightly smaller square lid is set on top and weighted to compress the mixture. Using nothing more than an ordinary square or rectangular baking pan -- the sort you would pull from the cabinet to make a batch of brownies -- you can layer the rice with smoked salmon, arugula, and spicy mayonnaise. A heavy cookbook will serve as a weight instead of the special lid.
Once the mixture is pressed and cut up, serve the squares as hors d'oeuvres at a summer party. With them, offer cold sake and a slice of lime. Vary the filling by using cooked shrimp or slices of avocado in place of salmon.-- DEBRA SAMUELS

Pressed salmon sushi
Makes about 30 bite-size pieces
These sushi pieces are served on a platter sprinkled with scallions, with soy sauce. To dip the pieces, turn them salmon side down; if you dip the rice end first, the pieces fall apart.

RICE

2 1/2 cups short-grain white rice
2 3/4 cups water
5 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt

1. In a bowl, place the rice and enough water to cover it. Wash the rice by stirring it and draining it. Do this three more times or until the water becomes almost clear. Let the rice soak for 20 minutes.
Drain rice.
2. In a pot, combine the rice and 2 3/4 cups water. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Cover and cook for 5 minutes. Turn the heat to low and cook 10 minutes more. Turn the heat off and let the rice steam for 10 minutes.
3. In a saucepan, combine the vinegar, sugar, and salt. Stir over low heat until the sugar and salt dissolve.
4. Transfer the rice to a large bowl. With large cutting movements, use a wooden spoon to toss the rice without mashing it. Sprinkle the vinegar mixture onto the rice as you toss to coat the grains. Fan the rice to cool it as you mix it. Cover with a clean, damp dish towel.

TOPPING

3/4 cup mayonnaise
2 teaspoons liquid hot sauce
Dash of cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon dark sesame oil
2 cups arugula leaves
12 ounces smoked salmon
3 scallions, finely chopped
Soy sauce (for dipping)

1. Set a 9-by-13-inch pan on the counter. Line the bottom with 2 pieces of plastic wrap, letting 8 inches hang over all sides. With moist hands, place half the sushi rice in the bottom of the pan. Press lightly to make a smooth layer.
2. In a bowl, stir together the mayonnaise, hot sauce, cayenne, and sesame oil. Spread half the mayonnaise mixture on the rice.
3. Add half the arugula and half the salmon slices.
4. Repeat with the remaining rice, mayonnaise mixture, arugula, and salmon. Fold the extra plastic wrap over the top layer. Place a large book on top and gently apply pressure. Set aside for at least 15 minutes or for up to 1 hour.5. Open the plastic wrap and use it to lift out the sushi. Set it on a cutting board. With a wet paper towel, moisten the edge of a sharp knife. Cut sushi into pieces about 1 by 2 inches each. Sprinkle with scallions. Serve with soy sauce.

Fiddleheads are the season's star shoots

2005-05-25T13:47:00.001-04:00

LEXINGTON -- Deep green, earthy spirals wound as tight as coils, fiddleheads burst into the spring produce bin for a few weeks. They're shoots, and they're at their best when tightly coiled. They grow into graceful ostrich ferns -- but alas, the pretty ferns are no longer edible. Fiddleheads' spiral shape gives rise to their name -- they look like the tip of a violin.

At Wilson Farms here, fiddleheads share space with bundles of green and white asparagus. But they sit unnoticed. Produce manager Tony Casieri says, ''People who know what they are come looking for them, but most just seem intrigued. They have no idea how to cook them."

They do look different than anything else at the farm stand, and, unlike asparagus, they're not around long enough for people to become interested. Also, fiddleheads still have their paperlike scales intact.

This is what happened to Wilson staff member Paul Vlasos on a fishing trip in Maine years ago: ''We were picking fiddleheads by the side of the road with a local guy. We had about 5 pounds, and I was wondering how we were going to get off all the brown, papery scales," he says. ''My friend took us back to his garage, opened up an old washing machine, threw the fiddleheads in, and turned on the spin cycle." There was no water in the machine, and the scales flew off. ''Now that's Yankee ingenuity for you," says Vlasos. The fishermen cooked the little coils and tossed them with lemon juice and cider vinegar.

Unless you know what you're doing, however, picking fiddleheads in the wild isn't advised; some fern varieties are not edible.

As for removing the papery scales at home, that is the tedious part. But the cooking couldn't be simpler. Steaming, boiling, or sauteing in butter are the recommended methods. Inspired by Vlasos's story, I tried the centrifugal force of my salad spinner to dislodge the scales. What did the job just as well was a short soak followed by a few rinses.

The flavor of a fiddlehead is clean and subtle, reminiscent of both asparagus and green beans, so a light treatment is best. In Japan, fiddleheads (called warabi) are highly prized. A few are artfully placed in a small dish, and a simple dressing of soy sauce and wasabi is drizzled from a spoon.

Fresh local fiddlehead ferns are available at farmstands and farmers' markets through early June.

Fiddlehead ferns with wasabi soy sauce dressing
Wasabi is the green mustard paste served with sushi. It is sold in tubes at Asian grocers and some supermarkets. Serves 2.

1 1/2 cups fiddleheads (scant 1/2 pound)
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 -1 teaspoon wasabi paste
2 teaspoons water
2 tablespoons light soy sauce

1. In a large bowl in the sink, rinse the fiddleheads under the tap to dislodge the brown scales. Drain and repeat several times. Trim the ends off the ferns (last piece on the coils).
2. Bring a large saucepan of salted water to a boil. Add the fiddleheads and cook for 8 minutes or until they are tender when pierced with the tip of a knife. Drain them into a colander and set them aside.
3. In a small bowl, mix 1/2 teaspoon wasabi paste and water until smooth. Whisk in the soy sauce. Add more wasabi, if you like. 4. Transfer the fiddleheads to a bowl and spoon the dressing over them. Toss gently and serve warm or at room temperature.

Baked to perfectionAt Somerville's La Contessa, the prized ricotta pies have a longstanding following

2005-03-23T13:42:00.001-05:00

SOMERVILLE -- Paper bunnies and decorated eggs adorn the picture windows at La Contessa Bakery Cafe here. Huge chocolate Easter eggs wrapped in colorful cellophane hang above the counter waiting for excited children. On a top shelf, along with a statue of St. Anthony, are boxes of sweet Italian bread baked in the shape of a dove. Amid these confections are the bakery's prized ricotta pies, their light brown crust embracing a sweet filling, which dominate one of the glass-fronted display cases. Felix Sabatino and Annette Serrao, the lively brother-and-sister team who own La Contessa, are getting ready for Easter. Between 500 and 600 pies will emerge from the bakery's ovens.

For more than 30 years, Antonio Bruno, the head baker, has been making the pies, beginning with pasta frolla, a sweet pastry crust enhanced with touch of orange oil. It cradles and covers the filling of ricotta cheese, sugar, and the powdered vanilla called vanillin. The fresh whole milk ricotta (pronounced ri-GHOT-ta or ri-GOT) comes from Purity Cheese of Quincy and the North End, another longstanding business. A slice of the pie, also called torta di Pasqua -- or Easter torte -- for its special place on the holiday menu, reveals a dense white filling that is both moist and not too sweet, surrounded by a soft, flaky crust. Ricotta pies are eaten throughout Italy, but with many variations -- some with candied fruit, anisette flavoring, or chocolate. La Contessa's plain version is southern Italian in origin.
In some respects, time has stood still in this corner of Somerville. While rents increase and trendy cafes move in, La Contessa continues its holiday traditions in much the same way they might be celebrated in Italy. Three tables offer customers a place to sit, sip strong coffee, and eat a pastry. No one here is working on a laptop -- though cellphones ring now and again.

On this bright day, Sabatino is handing out slices of another Easter staple -- pizza chiena (GAYN-a), sometimes called pizza ripiena, which means ''stuffed," or pizza rustica. At the end of Lent, people who have given up meat can enjoy it again in this lattice-topped pie, which holds a 4-inch layer of cheese studded with cold cuts.
Serrao works the counter, addressing customers as ''honey" or ''sweetie." She came to La Contessa first, in the early 1970s, when she was 17; her younger brother followed her a while later. He was 12. At the time, the bakery was owned by ''Papa" Joe Magliaro. The siblings were raised in Somerville, and Sabatino describes himself as ''a chunky kid in orange shorts standing on a crate washing dishes." By 12, he was practicing making frosting roses after work. Magliaro told the boy: ''You have the hand," Sabatino remembers.

After stints at Mike's Pastry in the North End and at several hotels, Sabatino bought La Contessa in 2000 with his parents' help. Actually, Armando and Emanuela Sabatino, who were from the Avellino province in Campania, had saved their son's earnings without his knowing. The boy thought that his $20 weekly La Contessa wages were going directly to St. Benedicts school in Somerville. ''I thought I was paying for my schooling. But secretly my dad opened a savings account for me and deposited all the money. He did that for all his six kids," Sabatino says softly.
Over the years, Sabatino has continued the tradition started by Magliaro, who was known as ''Joe Cookie" by legions of Somerville kids. ''Joe told me to always give a kid a cookie when they walked in the door," says Sabatino.

Bruno, the baker, has been making Italian pastries since 1972. ''I got this job the second day I went looking and never left," he says, scooping rings of dough from water boiling in a dented copper pot. ''We are making tarali," he says. ''Like an Italian bagel."
With three owners in 48 years, La Contessa is a fixture in Davis Square. ''It's a little island," says Bob Baker, an Arlington resident and patron for most of his 53 years. ''If I'm going through Davis Square, I'm going to La Contessa for a rum cake slice for my wife, Lin," he says. Linda Baker has celebrated her birthday with a La Contessa rum cake since she was a little girl. Elizabeth Pizzi of Belmont practically swoons over the thought of the bakery's lemon squares. And cannoli are shipped all over the country.

The bakery is usually filled with a cast of local characters, many at their usual tables. They convey all the enviable bonhomie and caring of a genuine community. Frank Privitera, a local lawyer, talks politics while he sips coffee and greets customers, urging everyone to try a cannoli. Bruce Curliss, a loyal customer who has become Sabatino's best friend, calls La Contessa ''a great little treasure." He shares a daily corner table with several local businessmen, who enjoy coffee, pastry, and friendly insults from Serrao. ''She loves us," they insist. They flip a coin to see who pays.

When Serrao's cellphone rings, the theme from ''The Godfather" fills the room. Linger long enough and you might even get her dating advice. Playing matchmaker for a young woman recently, Serrao says, ''We're all miserable and married, why shouldn't she be?"

And the day goes on, as customers hear her cheerful greetings and the pastry cases are refilled again and again. ''Goodbye, sweetheart," she calls out as someone leaves the shop. By the end of the day, she's said it dozens of times.

La Contessa Bakery Cafe is at 420 Highland Ave.,
Davis Square, Somerville, 617-623-9193.

From one pot, a bounty of Japanese flavors

2005-03-16T13:44:00.001-05:00

In the family of Japanese one-pot wonders -- sukiyaki among them -- the standout dinner is yosenabe, a mixture of seafood, chicken, tofu, glass noodles, and vegetables. Diners use their chopsticks to dip into a communal earthenware pot on a portable burner. Inside the pot is a simmering broth filled with the seafood, vegetables, and other ingredients. Diners lift out a piece of fish, a shiitake mushroom, or savory Chinese cabbage, then dab the food into a citrusy piquant soy sauce seasoned with grated daikon.
The meal is leisurely. Friends and family make their way through a platter of beautifully displayed raw ingredients, adding them to the pot as they eat. Fish and chicken go in first because they take the longest to cook. The simmering liquid gives the food flavor and results in a delicious broth, enjoyed at the end of the meal with clear noodles, also cooked in the broth.
Most households are not equipped with portable tabletop burners, but you can make this meal with a few adjustments. Use a heavy-based pot with a lid. Heat the broth, let the seafood, poultry, and vegetables simmer briefly, and then bring the pot to the table.

Recipe Yosenabe

The Japanese hot pot of seafood, chicken, and vegetables is served with a soy dipping sauce. Have a soup bowl plus a smaller bowl for the sauce for each diner.

Serves 4.

FOR THE BROTH

5 cups water
3 chicken wings
2 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons sake or dry white wine

1. In a large, flame-proof casserole, bring the water to a boil. Add the chicken wings and return to a boil. Skim the broth. Cover and simmer for 15 minutes. Remove the wings -- bone them and add the meat to soup -- and skim off the fat.
2. Add soy sauce, sugar, and sake or wine. Bring to a boil and set over low heat.

FOR THE SAUCE

½ cup soy sauce
3 tablespoons lemon juice
½ daikon (long white radish), peeled
Pinch of cayenne pepper

1. In a bowl, combine the soy sauce and lemon juice. Pour the mixture into a small pitcher.
2. Using the small holes on a box grater, grate the radish and place it in a small serving bowl. Sprinkle the radish with the cayenne and mix well. Set aside.

FOR THE POT

1 bundle (2 ounces) rice stick noodles
1 skinless, boneless chicken breast
3/4 pound skinless, boneless firm white-fleshed fish or salmon
8 littleneck or hard-shell clams
8 fresh shiitake mushrooms
½ small head of Chinese cabbage, quartered
1 cake (14 ounces) firm tofu, cut into 8 pieces
2 carrots, sliced diagonally to ¼ inch thick
4 scallions, sliced on the diagonal into 8 pieces each
16 pea pods

1. In a bowl, combine the rice sticks and enough boiling water to cover them. Set aside for 20 minutes. Drain noodles and cut in half.
2. Cut the chicken into 1-by-3-inch strips. Cut the fish into 8 pieces.
3. Rinse the clams. Soak the clams in cold water for 10 minutes. Arrange the noodles, chicken, fish, and clams on a large platter.
4. Remove stems from the mushrooms. Wipe the caps with wet paper towel. Carve an x into the caps. Add the caps to the platter.
5. Add the cabbage, tofu, carrots, scallions, noodles, and pea pods to platter. Set aside.
6. To the simmering broth, add half the chicken, 4 clams, 4 mushrooms, half the cabbage, and half the carrots. Reduce heat and cover the pan. Simmer for 3 minutes.
7. Add half of the remaining ingredients, except for the pea pods. Cover and cook for 3 minutes until clamshells are open. Add 8 pea pods and remove from heat.
8. Divide the cooked chicken, fish, and vegetables among 4 bowls. Add a little broth to each bowl.9. Pour a little of the dipping sauce into each of the 4 small bowls. Add a spoonful of the spicy daikon and serve at once. Dip the cooked food into the sauce. Cook the remaining ingredients in the same way.

Two delectable desserts for cooling off during the summertime Granitas, sorbets are frozen delights

2004-07-22T13:40:00.001-04:00

Two great frozen desserts are granitas, which are coarse-grained Italian ices, and sorbets, which have a creamy texture even when they're not made with milk.
For both, begin by pureeing the fruit that is in abundance now. Add super-fine sugar and fresh citrus juice for a tart twist that adds depth to the fruit flavor.
Spend a few minutes with the fruit you've just juiced. Carefully scrape out the remaining shell of lemons, limes, oranges, or even grapefruits, removing the pith (white membrane) with a spoon and -- presto -- you've got serving bowls. Take a thin slice from the bottom of the bowl so it will stay level.
Sorbets can be made in an ice cream maker, but it isn't necessary. When you're done processing, heap the mixture into the bowls and freeze for several hours. Alternatively, you can add the puree directly and freeze; the result will be no less delicious.
For granita, put the base into a shallow pan in the freezer and "rake" it with a fork every 30 minutes for two hours. This breaks up the crystals as the mixture begins to solidify, giving it a rough, homey texture -- like a slush.
Fruit isn't the only base you can use. Leftover strong coffee makes a wonderful granita, too. Serve in espresso cups with a drizzle of sweetened condensed milk. Is it iced coffee or coffee ice cream? Another idea is to add vanilla-flavored yogurt to fresh-squeezed orange juice. Make individual servings by pouring into orange halves and you have the taste of a creamsicle.
Plan to enjoy your frozen confections the same day, when the flavor is at its peak.
Fruit icesMakes 3 cups2 cups fruit -- strawberries, mangoes, peaches
3/4 cup super-fine sugar
1/4 cup orange juice
2 tablespoons lemon or lime juice
1 teaspoon lemon or lime zest
1. Combine fruit, sugar, and juices in a blender or food processor. Mix well.
2. Pour into a bowl and add the zest. Stir until combined.
3. Process in an ice cream maker according to instructions or pour directly into prepared fruit bowls.
4. Place fruit bowls on a cookie sheet and freeze for about 2-3 hours.
5. To make granita, pour fruit mixture into a shallow pan. Rake the mixture with a fork every 30 minutes until you have a slushy consistency. This takes about 2 hours.

Adapted from "How to Cook Everything," by Mark Bittman (Macmillan USA)

For picnics, toss together some sushi

2004-06-09T13:35:00.001-04:00

Sushi rice is short-grain white rice that is cooked and mixed with rice vinegar and sugar. This, of course, is the rice you're biting into when you sit down to a plateful of sushi. What you put on or in the rice determines the kind of sushi.

But there are other dishes -- which don't require the skills of a trained chef -- to make at home with these delicate-tasting grains. One is something the Japanese call chirashi-zushi, which is perfect for a picnic.

Begin with the cool rice mixed with a little vinegar and sugar, and add crisp and highly aromatic vegetables and fish. Sweetly seasoned shiitake mushrooms along with briny shrimp, for instance, will offer both earthy and sea tastes. Toss the rice "salad" with pea pods, green peas, and cucumbers, and you have the important elements of the Japanese table: color, texture, and flavor.

Cookbook author and teacher Keiko Hayashi says that chirashi-zushi can be made in any style. On a recent visit to Boston, she said that regional differences come into play in this dish. For Tokyo-style, the rice becomes Edomae chirashi-zushi (Edo is the old name for Tokyo) and has lots of raw fish arranged on top of the rice. Osaka-style contains more vegetables, with cooked fish -- salmon or shrimp -- mixed into the rice and scattered on the top.

Another popular picnic food is omusubi, or rice balls. These are ubiquitous fare on school outings. In her version, Hayashi explained, she likes to highlight a single ingredient on top of the sushi rice, which she molds and wraps in a one step. Use smoked salmon, for instance, or try spicy radish sprouts and a slice of ripe avocado.

The chirashi-zushi and the rice balls begin with a long list of ingredients. Most, however, are not cooked, and all can be prepared in advance.

Making the rice is the most important part of the dish. While it's still hot, season it with the rice vinegar mixture because the hot rice will absorb liquid seasonings. The Japanese use a shallow wooden bowl made of cedar, but a wooden salad bowl -- even a glass bowl -- will do.

You'll want chopsticks in your picnic basket and chilled green tea or Japanese beer. And probably someplace quiet. The delicate food goes well with a tranquil setting.

Sushi rice

Serves 4

June 9, 2004

If you have a rice cooker, prepare according to the cooker's directions. Otherwise, use a heavy-bottomed pot.

3 cups short-grain white Japanese rice
7¾ cups water
5 tablespoons rice wine vinegar
3 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
Extra rice wine vinegar (for the bowl)

1. Place rice in a heavy-bottomed pot. With water running, rinse the rice by stirring with your hand. Drain the water as it becomes cloudy. Repeat this process about 5 times until the water runs clear.
2. When all the water has been poured off, add 4 cups of water to the pot. Set aside to soak for 20 minutes. Drain.
3. Add the remaining 3 3/4 cups of water to the rice. Cover the pan and set it on medium heat. Bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer the rice on low heat for 10 minutes.
4. Turn off the heat and let the rice sit for 10 minutes.
5. In a small pot heat vinegar, sugar, and salt until the sugar dissolves.
6. Rub a little vinegar around the inside of a large bowl. Transfer the rice to the bowl and with a wooden paddle or spoon make several diagonal slashes in the grains. Pour one-third of the vinegar mixture onto the rice. Carefully fold and lift the rice without mashing it down. Continue with the remaining vinegar mixture, adding it in two stages. Fan the rice with a magazine to cool it. The rice will be glossy.
7. Cover the rice with a damp kitchen towel until ready to use.

Chirashi-zushi

Serves 4

June 9, 2004

Make this "salad" of vegetables and fish with seasoned rice when you need a picnic or summer supper dish. Use cooked or smoked fish. Save raw fish for a time when you're not transporting food.

2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon sugar
½ teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon vegetable oil
5 cups cooked sushi rice (see recipe)
½ pound cooked shrimp
1½ cups frozen green peas, thawed
½ pound smoked salmon, cut into matchsticks
½ English cucumber, seeded and cut into matchsticks
1 cup snow peas, blanched and thinly sliced Seasoned shiitake mushrooms (see recipe)
2 tablespoons shredded red pickled ginger (called kizami shoga at Asian markets)

1. In a bowl stir the eggs, sugar, and salt together. Rub the bottom of a 6-inch nonstick skillet with a drop of oil. Add one-quarter of the egg mixture. Swirl it around to spread into a thin crepe. Cook 1 minute or just until bubbles appear. With a metal palette knife, turn the crepe over and cook 30 seconds more. Turn out onto a plate. Fry 3 more crepes. Cut them into fine strips.
2. In a large bowl, place the sushi rice. Scatter three-quarters of the shrimp, peas, salmon, cucumber, snow peas, and shiitakes onto rice.
3. Gently fold the vegetables and fish into the rice.
4. Arrange the remaining shrimp, peas, salmon, cucumber, snow peas, and shiitakes on top of the rice. Garnish with egg strips and ginger.

Seasoned shiitake mushrooms

Serves 4

June 9, 2004

Add these sauteed mushrooms to all kinds of stir-fries and summer salads.

8 dried shiitake mushrooms
¾ cup mushroom soaking liquid
3 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon mirin (sweet rice wine)

1. In a bowl, combine the mushrooms and enough hot water to cover them. Soak for 30 minutes. Lift out the mushrooms (reserve the liquid) and rinse them. Cut them into strips.
2. In a saucepan, combine the mushrooms, 3/4 cups of the mushroom liquid, soy sauce, sugar, and mirin. Bring to a boil, lower the heat, and simmer for 5 minutes or until the mushrooms have almost absorbed the liquid.

Berry nirvana is in full swing, and the dessert Pavlova, a fluffy creation of meringue, will make you feel like you're floating on a cloud

2004-06-02T13:38:00.001-04:00

Some desserts don't seem right without strawberries. Tarts would be missing their bright red color and glory, shortcakes their intensely aromatic topping, and cobblers their fruity filling. Pavlova, the famous round of crunchy meringue, wouldn't be as splendid without a crown of ripe red berries.

Pavlova is so popular in Australia, where some say it was invented, that the egg white dessert, topped with layers of whipped cream and fruit, is served in restaurants everywhere. The dish was made to celebrate the Russian ballerina Anna Pavlova after she performed there in the 1930s. Apparently the cloudlike bed of meringue evoked the lightness of the beautiful dancer.

New Zealanders don't take Pavlova's association with Australia lightly. They claim the dessert as their own. "Not so fast," says Kiwi chef Susan Glynn, who maintains that Pavlovas are "an institution for festive occasions in New Zealand" and who offers proof that they were already being served by New Zealand matrons in the 1920s. The fact is that the sharing and tweaking of meringue cake recipes has been going on for a long time -- to everyone's benefit.

One of Glynn's restaurants, Suze Wine Bar in London, has Pavlova on the dessert menu. That dazzling version of the meringue is topped with liqueur-flavored whipped

cream and an array of fruits that include strawberries, mango, and raspberries. Your fork breaks through the outer layer of the meringue into a marshmallowlike center; cream and fruit perfectly complement the light, sweet crust. The dessert is not difficult to make at home. The meringue isn't hard, but you have to make sure that it behaves. So use only bowls and beaters that are absolutely clean and dry and egg whites at room temperature, and try to pick a dry day for baking. Humidity is not kind to baked egg whites.

I have tried making the meringue nests using whites separated from large eggs and Eggology, fresh egg whites that come in a container (available at many markets, including Whole Foods). Both whip up beautifully. Vinegar and cornstarch help make the crust crunchy and the center soft. You can vary the flavor by adding vanilla or some ground toasted almonds.

Some bakers like to begin the Pavlova in an oven that has been turned to 400 or 500 degrees and turned off when the meringue is placed inside. The whites "bake" while the oven cools. Others recommend baking the meringue in a low oven, such as 300 degrees, for about 1 1/2 hours. At that point, the oven is turned off and the meringue is left to finish baking in the cooling oven. This method, I found, yielded the best and most consistent results.

When the crisp whites emerge from the oven, pile the center of the round with whipped cream and berries, mango slices, and blueberries. You want the mixture to be colorful. Biting into Pavlova is like chewing on a sweet cloud.

Pavlova with berries

Serves 8

June 2, 2004

FOR THE MERINGUE

5 egg whites, at room temperature
1¼ cups sugar
1½ teaspoons cornstarch
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1½ teaspoons distilled white vinegar

1. Set the oven at 300 degrees. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper.
Use a 9-inch cake pan as a template to draw a circle on the parchment.
2. In an electric mixer, beat egg whites until soft peaks just begin to form. Gradually beat in the sugar and continue beating until the whites are stiff.
3. Remove the bowl from the stand. Use a rubber spatula to fold in the cornstarch, followed by the vanilla and vinegar.
4. Spoon about three-quarters of the meringue onto the parchment paper in the designated circle. Use a longmetal palette knife to make a cake-shaped mound. Spoon the remaining meringue around the edge of the circle, forming a nest shape.
5. Transfer to the oven and bake for 1½ hours. Turn the oven off and let the meringue sit for 3 hours or until the oven is cold.
6. Lift the meringue from the parchment paper and transfer to a large, flat platter.

FOR THE TOPPING

2 cups heavy cream, whipped to soft peaks
2 pints strawberries
1 mango, peeled and sliced
1 pint blueberries, picked over

1. Spread the whipped cream onto the meringue. Leave some berries whole and cut the rest into halves and quarters.
2. Arrange the berries, mango slices, and blueberries on the cream.
3. Cut into slices to serve.

Adapted from Susan Glynn

White Asparagus

2004-04-28T13:28:00.001-04:00

Right about now the Germans are going gaga over white asparagus-- it is “spargel”

(asparagus) season. Actually it is white asparagus season in many European countries. Many of us only know the limp white spears we see in jars or cans; they are fine on a salad, but the fresh ones, while a bit expensive, are popping up in our markets now. For a real treat grab the first fresh bunch you see.

Although white asparagus are prized for a mild flavor and good looks, they also are known for their health benefits. Besides being high in Vitamins A and C, white asparagus are said to be good for the body’s filtering system. According to Wolfgang Gaertner of Berlin, some people eat them daily as a “cleansing cure.” Gartner laughed as he tried to explain this delicately: “As it affects the body’s liquid drainage system, it is quite obvious from the odor who’s been eating white asparagus.” This fact has been independently verified.

White asparagus grow in sandy soil and are the same variety as their green relatives - but the mounds have been covered to keep out the sun to prevent them from producing the chlorophyll that produces that gorgeous springtime green. Although our good buddy Kermit the Frog, says “it’s not easy being green,” for asparagus apparently it is. Helga Barebendreier, from Hamburg, says it is quite a sight to see fields of white asparagus. “You don’t see the asparagus at all, just mounds upon mounds of black plastic ‘igloos.’ The shoots never see the light of day until they are harvested.

The typical way to eat them is with melted butter or a Hollandaise sauce. It is it is traditional for Germans to eat asparagus with plain boiled potatoes and some salty meat, like Black Forest ham or schnitzel, explains Gaertner. His instructions are straightforward: “They are never cut, but left whole. You pierce the end of the stalk with a fork and bring them to your mouth and chew in sections until the very end.”

Cut about a thumbs-length off the bottom of the spear and peel from just under the tip.

If you have an asparagus pot, Ron Savenor, owner of Savenor’s Market on Charles Street in Boston suggests tying some twine around the bunch just under the head and another bit of twine just a few inches from the bottom. Fill the pot to just over half with water and a tablespoon of sugar. Add some lemon juice. If you don’t have an asparagus pot, use a sauté pan. Cook about 10 minutes or until just tender. Save the cooking liquid for use to make a Hollandaise sauce.

The asparagus that are available locally are now from Peru. Mark ---, the extremely helpful produce team leader at the Bread and Circus on River Street in Cambridge, says he usually has them on hand. But that is not the case at all Whole Foods stores. At other branches we were told that they can be ordered. Before making menu plans around white asparagus we suggest calling the market.

Let white asparagus take center stage at your table. With a glass of dry Riesling and some crusty bread you have a springtime meal that is light and satisfying.

“Guten Apetit!”

Shopping sources

Savenor’s Market
160 Charles Street
Boston
617-723-6328

Whole Foods
340 River Street
Cambridge
617 876-6990

Recipe

Wolfgang’s White asparagus in cream sauce - serves 2

1 bunch white asparagus
2 teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon vinegar or lemon juice
½ teaspoon salt

Water to cook

For the sauce:

1 tablespoon flour
2 tablespoons butter
1 - 1 ½ cup asparagus cooking liquid
¼ cup white wine
¼ -1/2 cup heavy cream
1 egg yolk
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Rinse asparagus and cut off about a thumbs-length from the bottom of the spears.
2. With a vegetable peeler, peel asparagus carefully. (You can reserve the peels to make a stronger base for the sauce).
3. In a pan that will hold the asparagus in a single layer bring about one inch of water to a boil. Add sugar, salt and vinegar.
4. Cook for 10 minutes at most. Remove to a plate.
5. Reserve liquid about 1 cup.
6. In the same pan, melt the butter and add flour and mix until smooth for about one minute.
7. Slowly add the reserved asparagus broth. Continue to stir until sauce thickens.
8. Add the wine and cream stirring constantly. Simmer for one minute. Lower heat
9. Place egg yolk in a small bowl. Add a little of the warm white sauce to the egg yolk and mix well.10. Slowly add the egg yolk to the cream sauce, mixing thoroughly. Cook another minute or two. Add more cream if the sauce is too thick. Pour over asparagus and serve immediately.

Here's the flip side to holiday tradition

2004-04-14T13:33:00.001-04:00

LEXINGTON -- Bleary-eyed souls are making their way to the Battle Green. A shot rings out. The all-volunteer army is spurred into action. Ready, aim, flip!

Did you think only the British were coming? The other great Patriots Day tradition in this historic town is pancake breakfasts. Next Monday, hungry hordes who waited for hours to see the reenactment of the "shot heard 'round the world" can mount their assault upon local venues for breakfast.

With thousands of people milling around, there is plenty of business for civic organizations that have for decades used this cousin to the church supper as fund-raisers. Patriots Day pancake sales -- the stack costs between $4.50 and $6 but don't forget that includes the sausages, coffee, cocoa, and juice -- help support a Boy Scout troop and fund social action projects for church and fraternal organizations.

The largest is held at St. Brigid's Church. According to Scout Master Hank Manz, Troop 160 serves about 1,500 people around 4,000 pancakes, 3,000 sausages, and 15 gallons of syrup. The first volunteer Scouts and parents show up at 3:30 a.m. No pancakes are made in advance. With three 4-foot-square grills going simultaneously and several line-flippers, the hot pancakes make their way to the waiting crowd through the efforts of "pancake expediters." Manz says they recruit "tall people with good balance for this job." Fourteen-year-old Geoff Cooper, as senior patrol leader, is making his debut this year sharing responsibilities for the feeding of 1,500 diners. "Sometimes the line can be very long," says Cooper.

At the First Baptist Church, says pancake organizer Dave Ehlke, "We make our pancakes from scratch with a recipe from our former pastor's mother who is from Ireland." On his shopping list are 100 pounds of flour, 20 pounds of sugar, 240 eggs, and 20 gallons of whole milk. "We get lots of reenactors who come in their costumes," says Ehlke.

Just steps from the battle scene, Church of Our Redeemer parishioner Karen Shragle helps run their pancake breakfast along with two other co-chairs. "When the last shot is fired on the Green, you watch people running in several different directions," says Schragle.

At the Masonic Hall, Marc Reyome presides over the action of the early birds who come before dawn for nourishment and a front row view of the battle between the Minutemen and the British. While their forefathers marched toward Concord and their next skirmish, modern day redcoats make a pit-stop for pancakes.

Pancake breakfasts in Lexington are held between 6 and 10 a.m. (some doors open at 5:30 a.m. if there's a crowd) at St. Brigid's, 2001 Massachusetts Ave.; Church of Our Redeemer, 6 Meriam St.; First Baptist Church, 1580 Massachusetts Ave.; Masonic Hall, 1 Harrington Road (corner of Bedford and Hancock streets).

Amy Dixon's Irish pancakes 4/14/2004

If you don’t like the idea of sitting down to pancakes at dawn with several hundred people, make your own—or host a pancake party later in the morning. Keep the pancakes warm in 200-degree oven, covered with foil. This recipe comes from Brian Dixon, former pastor of the First Baptist Church in Lexington, who got it from his Irish mother. For really light pancakes, add 2 tablespoons of lemon juice to the batter, a hint some packaged mixes suggest. The dry ingredients make 5 cups. Here are instructions for using the dry ingredients in two proportions. Use 3 cups to make 23 pancakes, 2 cups to make 15 pancakes.

FOR THE DRY INGREDIENTS

3 3/4 cups flour
1 cup sugar
2 tablespoons cream of tartar
1 tablespoon baking soda
1 tablespoon salt

1. In a large bowl, mix the flour, sugar, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt. Blend well with a whisk.
2. Measure 2 cups or 3 cups and store leftover dry mixture in an airtight jar in the pantry.

WITH 3 CUPS OF DRY INGREDIENTS

3 cups dry ingredients
3 eggs
1 1/2 cups milk
Butter (for the griddle)

WITH 2 CUPS OF DRY INGREDIENTS

2 cups dry ingredients
2 eggs
1 cup milk
Butter (for the griddle)

1. In a large bowl, stir the dry ingredients with a whisk.
2. In another bowl, combine the eggs and milk and stir well. Add the egg mixture to the dry mixture, stirring until all liquid is incorporated. Bubbles will start to appear.
3. Let the mixture rest for about 30 minutes.
4. Heat a griddle or nonstick skillet. Add about 2 teaspoons of the butter. When it begins to foam, use a quarter-cup measure to add batter to the pan. Let the pancakes cook until the undersides are golden and small bubbles appear on the surface.
5. Turn to brown the other side. Serve with maple syrup or fresh fruit.

Simmered tofu gets zesty with sauce and seasonings

2004-04-08T13:26:00.001-04:00

Nothing could be simpler than a cake of tofu simmered in a light broth. The Japanese dish Yudofu is the very definition of simplicity in both preparation and presentation. Condiments of grated ginger, a sprinkling of katsuo (bonito) fish flakes, and finely cut rings of scallions not only add to the spare beauty of this dish, they also provide the zing. Traditionally this dish is served from a simmering pot atop the table. Diners place tofu in their own bowl and choose their toppings, which are stirred into a sauce made from soy sauce, dashi (bonito fish stock), and mirin (Japanese sweet rice wine).

Not only does tofu absorb the seasonings it is graced with, but it also takes on the season. When the weather turns warm, this warm dish changes like a chameleon and is served icy cold, to refresh body and palate.

Tofu -- made from soy beans, spring water, and a coagulant -- is a great source of non-animal protein and is available in most local supermarkets. Packaged tofu, like Nasoya, has come a long way as far as taste, but for a real treat try to find the fresh tofu available at all Asian markets. Blocks of tofu sit in large baths of cold water and are scooped into a container for you. One popular manufacturer in Cambridge is Chang Shing. They sell from their factory at 35-37 Rogers St. and also have their product in most of the Asian groceries. If you do not use the tofu all at once, make sure you change the water daily. Try to finish the tofu within two-three days of purchase.

Tofu comes in many varieties. For this dish, firm is the preferred consistency. Yoshiko Furukawa, the owner of Yoshinoya's on Prospect Street in Cambridge, refers to them by their Japanese description: kinu-silk (soft) and momen-cotton (firm). Yoshinoya, a Japanese specialty food market for 43 years, has a refrigerator case that boasts a large selection of tofu. Furukawa has endless patience and is only too happy to explain cooking techniques and share recipes. She gets fresh tofu daily. At $1.59 a block, that is a lot of nutrition power in a small package.

You don't need a special Japanese pot to make this dish. Cook the tofu on the stove and bring it steaming hot to the table in a covered dish. Serve with Japanese rice and freshly made cucumber and crab viniagret salad and you have a great but simple meal.
Bon Appetit -- or as the Japanese would say, "Itadakimasu!"

Shopping sources

Yoshinoya, 36 Prospect St., Cambridge, 617-491-8221

Chang Shing, 35-37 Rogers St., Cambridge, 617-868-8878

Super 88, 1095 Commonwealth Ave., Boston, 617-787-2288

Yudofu (simmered tofu) 4/8/2004

Most of these items are available at Bread and Circus, but one field trip to a Japanese or Asian grocery and you are sure to find everything. Serves 2.

2 cakes of tofu (firm)
4 cups water
1 4-inch strip of kelp (dried seaweed)
1 tablespoon peeled, freshly grated ginger
4 tablespoons bonito flakes
4 scallions, finely chopped into rings
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 cup dashi -- bonito fish stock
1 tablespoon mirin, sweet rice wine, or sugar

1. Set a pot of cold water on the stove. Wipe the kelp clean and place it in the water.
2. Cut the tofu block into 4 to 6 pieces. Set gently in the water.
3. Bring the liquid to a simmer. Heat gently. This takes about 8-10 minutes.
4. In a small pot, make the dashi according to instructions on package.
5. Add soy sauce and mirin (or sugar), and heat through. Place in small pitcher.
6. Place the grated ginger, bonito flakes, and scallions in three small serving bowls.
7. Remove the kelp and discard.
8. Each diner receives a bowl and adds a few tablespoons of the warm sauce.
Note: You can either add the seasonings to the sauce and then the tofu or put the tofu in the bowl and then sprinkle on the seasonings. . . . Bonito flakes are shavings of the dried bonito. They add a briny depth to the dish. They come in multiple small packets in a package or loose in a bag. . . . Dashi comes in many forms. A small jar of granulated dashi is the most convenient. A few teaspoons for 1 cup of boiling water is sufficient. . . . Shitake mushrooms (fresh or reconstituted) and Chinese cabbage, quartered, can be added to the simmering liquid to make a more substantial dish.

Pasta is full of carbs, but that doesn't matter Tomatoes or cream?Here's your guide

2004-02-04T13:25:00.001-05:00

ROME -- A nattily dressed gentleman, unlit cigar poised between his lips, studies the pastas in a soccer-field-length supermarket aisle. Signore Pino Magno is an Italian diplomat who loves to cook. He is choosing pasta to go with one of his sauces. After much consideration, Magno decides on a bag of casarecce, a delicately once-twisted, short shape with a channel running down its center. This crevice will allow the sauce to seep deep into the cooked casarecce. His wife, standing patiently nearby, explains that he does this all the time. There are, after all, hundreds of shapes from which to choose.

We may not have the choices available in Italy, but gone are the days when only spaghetti, macaroni, and lasagna were available, and when brands in our markets only offered American-made noodles. Now we have popular Italian pastas made by Pastene, De Cecco, Barilla, and Delverde, along with artisanal and regional pastas. Gone, too, is the notion that sauces are made from tomatoes, cream, or pesto. Now there are dozens of mixtures to toss with your noodles.

Giancarlo Sessa, owner for 25 years of Sessa's Italian Grocery in Somerville's Davis Square, recently started counting pasta shapes in his store. He got up to 58 -- for one brand, Del Verde -- and quit halfway through his inventory. Stacked and unopened boxes of specialty cuts (these are unusual pastas such as the short, giant tubes called tuffoloni, also called paccheri, or the casarecce that Magno was interested in) lay waiting to claim space on his shelves. Rattling off the names of his pastas in order of size and shape, he stopped to ask: "Sounds like an Italian opera, doesn't it?" Good pasta is made with durum wheat, semolina, and water (often spring water). Pastas are graded in small increments of thickness; they are smooth or ridged, tubular or flat. They come boxed in nests or packaged in elongated parcels. Specialty cuts are contorted in twists, shaped like little ears, made with squid ink or spinach. Different manufacturers call the same pasta shapes by different names. Neighboring Italian villages might not even agree on the same name.

But that's just half the confusion. What about the sauce? Like shapes, the types of sauces familiar to Americans have expanded in recent years. Pairing pasta and sauces takes into consideration the heft of the sauce and size and texture of the pasta, along with regional preferences.

Tubular pastas such as ziti, rigatoni, and penne, which hold sauces in their cavities, are often paired with long-cooked red sauces, as well as savory mixtures simmered with chunks of meat and vegetables. The ribbed (rigati) tubes are more roughly cut, and the sauce seeps into the ridges. They are sturdy enough to hold up in a baked dish. The smooth (lisci) ones work well with oil and cream-based sauces that cling to the surface.

Long, flat linguine, fettuccine, and tagliatelle have enough surface area to hold thick tomato sauces, as well as pesto, cream, and oil-based seafood mixtures. Because long, round shapes -- from spaghetti to angel hair -- vary in thickness, toss thinner pastas with light sauces, perhaps made from fresh tomatoes; thicker ones stand up well with red or creamy carbonara sauces.

Known as soup pasta, tubettini, mini shells, ditalini, pastina, and rice shapes cook quickly. Any starch emitted during simmering thickens the pot. Some, such as pastina and stellina, are suited to simple broths, while thicker shapes such as ditalini and little shells go well in minestrone and pasta e fagioli (pasta and beans).

Stuffed pastas, like the folded tortellini and tortelloni from the Emilia Romagna region, which are filled with cheese and meat or vegetables, can also be served in broth with a sprinkling of cheese. Their more robust southern cousin, ravioli, is often bathed in tomato sauce.

The only thing more important than matching shape to sauce is cooking the pasta correctly. Use the cooking times on packages as a guide. Many Italians cook it for one to two minutes less than the instructions, then they finish cooking the pasta in the sauce. That way, you get "al dente" pasta -- or strands that are tender "to the tooth." The pasta absorbs the liquid as well as its flavors. Another tip is to save about half a cup of the pasta cooking liquid before draining. Add it to the pasta after draining it. If you stir over low heat, the sauce will give the pasta a shiny coating. Finally, never rinse pasta; you wash away flavor.

In Italy, and for many Italian-Americans here as well, pasta is always on the menu for midday Sunday dinner.

Maria and Tony D'Itria of Revere, who come from a town south of Naples, make pasta together every week. "I make fusilli just like my grandmother," says Maria D'Itria, an elementary school teacher in Boston. "They are as big as your thumb and look like Shirley Temples curls." One week recently the D'Itrias made rabbit and tomato sauce, which gets trapped between the curls of the pasta. "Americans put too much sauce on their pasta," says Maria D'Itria. "The sauce should be just as though it is painted on."

In Rome, Pino Magno's casarecce might be on its way home, where it will be cooked slowly with a sauce made from zucchini and broth. Magno will probably return to the same store soon, pick another shape, and match it to another pot of sauce, while his wife waits patiently again.

A little barley goes a long way to beef up a soup or vegetablesUse it instead of high-carb pasta, potatoes or rice

2004-01-29T13:23:00.001-05:00

Tired of potatoes, rice, and pasta? Looking for another carb with some nutritional clout? Try barley. When cooked, barley has a soft but slightly crunchy texture. When added to soups, it makes them creamy. It is a great base for a pilaf.

Barley has a long history. Part of the human diet for several thousand years, it was one of the first grains to be cultivated. Then, as now, it was brewed to make beer as well as eaten in other forms. It is high in fiber, and recent studies have shown that barley has cholesterol-lowering properties similar to those of oats.

Don't be discouraged from using barley, or any dried grains, because they need soaking first. There is a "quick method" for soaking the barley, described below. You can then use it in any recipe calling for soaked barley.

Pearl barley is the one most often found in the dried bean section. "Pearl" refers to the kernel that remains after the tough outer hull has been polished away. A 1-pound package of dried barley (about 2 cups) costs less than $1. When soaked, it yields approximately 6 cups. Prepare the entire package, then freeze the extra barley for use later. Store it in plastic bags in 1-cup portions and defrost before cooking.

Mushroom barley soup is a soothing companion on a cold day. Most mushroom barley soups use meat, beef stock, and common white mushrooms. A vegetarian version can be just as "meaty," however. Soak dried mushrooms in water to rehydrate them. Save the soaking liquid for a flavorful stock. Fresh mushrooms cut into thick slices provide heft and flavor. The barley gives the soup a velvety consistency.

For a quick dinner, pull a few cups of barley from the freezer before you leave for work. When you get home, saute a mix of onions, dried cranberries, and vegetables (mixed frozen are fine) in a little oil. Spice it up with a little curry, toss in the cooked barley, and you have a colorful, nutritious dish.

Four-mushroom and barley soup 1/29/2004

3/4 cup dried porcini mushrooms (1 1/2 ounces)
8 -10 dried shiitake mushrooms
6 cups water
3 1/2 -4 cups soaked barley (quick method)
2 tablespoons canola or olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
1/2 pound baby portobello mushrooms, cleaned and cut into 4 slices
1/2 pound white mushrooms, cleaned and cut into 4-5 slices
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Place porcini and shiitake mushrooms in separate bowls, each one large enough to hold 3 cups of liquid. Add about 2 1/2 cups of warm water to each bowl and let sit until mushrooms soften. Dried shiitake mushrooms need 30 minutes to an hour or more to soften, depending on thickness. Dried shiitake mushrooms are more flavorful than fresh.
2. Prepare pearl barley according to quick method: Put 1 pound of barley and 6 cups of water in a pot and bring to a boil. Let boil for two minutes and turn off the heat. Cover and let soak for one hour. Drain and reserve barley.
3. Remove mushrooms from liquid and rinse under running water. Reserve the liquid. Roughly chop the porcini. Remove stems from the shiitake and cut each into several pieces.
4. Take reserved mushroom liquid and strain through a paper coffee filter or double thickness of paper towel. You will have about 4 cups. Add water to make 6 cups of stock.
5. Heat oil in a pot and saute onions and carrots for five minutes.
6. Add chopped shiitake and porcini. Saute an additional 3 minutes.
7. Add mushroom stock to the mixture. Heat until just beginning to boil.
8. Lower heat and add barley. Simmer for 20 minutes.
9. Add sliced fresh mushrooms and cook an additional 15-20 minutes. Add water if necessary.
10. Season to taste.

Note: Trader Joe's carries a product called Mushroom Medley in the frozen food section. It comes in 1-pound bags for $3.69 and it works well in this soup. Use as you would the fresh mushrooms. No need to do any cutting.

Easy peanut sauce will perk up a salad, appetizer, or entreeIt's great as a base for meat, vegetables, tofu

2004-01-22T13:19:00.001-05:00

Burlington's Elsa Tian is a lively lady of 70 and a superb, instinctive cook. Elsa and her husband, Jan, immigrated to the United States 38 years ago from Jakarta, Indonesia. Elsa loves to share her cooking with friends.

One day last month, she dropped off some of her wonderful peanut sauce, and over the next few weeks I was dipping into it to enhance all sorts of dishes.

"Americans like peanut butter, which is why Americans love this sauce so much," she said as she dipped a carrot into the thick paste. "It's a great base for many different types of food: chicken, tofu, noodles, vegetables, salads -- anything you like."

The secret to this sauce is freshly ground peanut butter, available at most supermarket deli counters and health food stores, where sometimes you can even grind your own.

"That way, there are no sweeteners or preservatives and you can sweeten and spice it up as you like," Elsa said.

The base has few ingredients and takes no more than 10 minutes to make. You enhance it depending on the type of food with which it will be paired. For salad dressings, thin it with water, plain yogurt, or coconut milk and spice it up with red pepper paste and vinegar. For grilled chicken, add depth with anchovy paste. For noodles and satays, infuse salty sweetness with soy sauce and brown sugar.

The sauce is cooked on top of the stove for a few minutes, and will keep for at least a month in a covered container in the refrigerator.

As Elsa prepared the sauce and added water to the thick peanut butter, she cautioned not to mix it too much: "The sauce thickens the more you stir it, so just mix until everything is blended."

While making the dressing for her signature dish, the gorgeous Indonesian mixed salad Gado Gado, she diluted several tablespoons of the peanut sauce with vinegar and a bit of water. In goes an eye-watering amount of red chili paste, sambal oelek, available in most supermarkets in the Asian food section or at Asian groceries.

"This is how most Indonesians like it," she said with a mischievous grin. Indeed! The tears surface immediately in a taste test. If you don't have hot pepper paste, Tabasco sauce is a reasonable substitute.

This is a great sauce to have on hand, like a basic black dress or a white button-down shirt in the closet. The recipes below give some ideas, but if a soup needs a little something, if your pasta is too plain, or if you find your stew lacking, dip in and spoon out a little magic.

Peanut sauce base 1/22/2004

2 teaspoons canola oil
1 clove garlic, minced
2 cups fresh peanut butter
1 cup water or coconut milk
1 tablespoon brown sugar
5 tablespoons white sugar
1 1/2 tablespoons whitecider vinegar or limejuice
1 teaspoon hot peppersauce or a few dashesof Tabasco sauce

1. In a saucepan, heat the oil and add the minced garlic. Stir and cook for about 30 seconds and turn off the heat.
2. Add the peanut butter, water or coconut milk, brown and white sugars, vinegar, and hot pepper sauce.
3. Turn on the heat to low-medium and stir until everything ismixed and just hot. Do not boil the sauce.
4. Cool the sauce and store in a covered container in the refrigerator for up to onemonth.

Fried shallots 1/22/2004

3 shallots, peeled and thinly sliced
1 tablespoon canola oil

1. Heat the oil and add the shallots.
2. Stir and cook on medium-low heat until the shallots get dark and crispy, about 10 minutes.
3. Drain on paper towels.

Chicken, beef, or pork satay 1/22/2004

3 tablespoons peanut sauce base
1 chopped tomato
1 teaspoon hot sauce
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 pound boneless chicken, pork, or beef (sirloin or flank) cut into one-inch cubes (about 20 cubes)
Bamboo skewers soaked inwater for 30 minutes

1. Mix cut-up meat with marinade. Refrigerate 30 minutes to 1 hour.
2. Place several pieces of marinated meat on soaked bamboo skewers (wrap exposed end of skewer in aluminum foil).
3. Grill on a barbecue or under the oven broiler for 3 minutes per side.
4. Serve with dipping sauce (see accompanying recipe).

FOR THE DIPPING SAUCE

4 tablespoons peanut sauce base
1 heaping tablespoon brown sugar
2 tablespoons soy sauce

Hot pepper paste to taste

2 to 3 teaspoons lime juice(key limes if you can get them)

1. Mix all ingredients together to a dipping consistency. Makes 1/2 cup.
2. Dipping sauce can be thinned with a few tablespoons of water, coconut milk, or yogurt.

Gado Gado Indonesian salad 1/22/2004

This is humble fare in Indonesia, often sold by street vendors. Serve as a first course or as a meal with a bowl of white rice. Most of the vegetables are blanched to maintain their color and crunch. Serves 6 to 8

1/2 pound green beans, tips removed and cut into 2-inch pieces
10 to 16 ounces spinach leaves (bags of baby spinach make this a breeze)
2 cups bean sprouts
2 carrots, julienned
4 potatoes, cooked and sliced
1/4 cabbage, core removed
4 eggs, hardboiled and cut into sixths
1/2 seedless cucumber cut into 1/4-inch slices
Fried shallots (see accompanying recipe)

1. In a large pot of boiling water, blanch the green beans, spinach, bean sprouts, carrots, and cabbage individually for two or three minutes. Remove each vegetable with a slotted spoon, dip into cold water, and drain thoroughly.
2. On a large platter, arrange the vegetables in layers, starting with the cabbage at the bottom. Spread out and group vegetables in an attractive pattern.
3. Sprinkle on fried shallots.
4. Serve with peanut sauce dressing

Gado Gado dressing

1/2 cup peanut sauce base
1 to 2 teaspoons hot sauce
2 tablespoons vinegar
4 to 5 tablespoons water or coconut milk
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1 to 2 teaspoons anchovypaste (optional)

1. Place the peanut sauce base in a bowl. Add the remaining ingredients and mix slowly until blended. Adjust seasonings to your taste. The consistency is like that ofa salad dressing. Try not to over-mix.

Vegetable dip 1/22/2004

Makes 1/2 cup.

3 tablespoons peanut sauce base
1/2 cup plain yogurt (full or lowfat)

1. Mix and serve with fresh vegetables.

A little bit of everything goes a long way

2003-12-25T13:18:00.001-05:00

Don't pity the poor antipasto. According to Lynne Rosetto Kaspar, author of "The Italian Country Table" (Scribner), even though its origins are in peasant cuisine, many of the dishes, developed from leftovers, have now become antipasti, often translated as appetizers. The word "appetizer," however, barely does justice to the long list of antipasti at restaurants in Italy or to their sumptuous display on plain white platters. Antipasti can be so varied and elaborate that they can be a meal in themselves. The possibilities are endless: tidbits of seafood tossed with olive oil, garlic, and parsley; prosciutto in swirls like petals; a humble bowl of white beans in a warm bath of garlic, olive oil, and parsley; a rainbow of grilled peppers; plates of silvery anchovies; mixed olives in spices; a hunk of parmesan cheese shaved and served over bitter arugula with a drizzling of balsamic vinegar. Regional specialties also are varied. One of northern Italy's most famous contributions to the antipasto table is mortadella, which has morphed into an American lunch meat named after Bologna, the region's largest city. A single platter of mortadella, the fully cooked sausage meat studded with squares of fat and special spices, can stand alone as an antipasto.

The magazine La Cucina Italiana (published by Editrice Quadratum SpA, available in English), devotes a section to antipasti. The recipes can be hot or cold, simple or elaborate. A simple one is the half loaf of bread left over from one meal that makes its way to the table the next night as the base of a bruschetta: toasted bread with olive oil and a rub of garlic, a tomato slice, and an anchovy filet.
In many Italian restaurants in America, a single platter with smatterings of the above are nestled atop a bed of greens, like a salad served family-style. In Italy, you may see the antipasti table as you enter and tell the waiter your choices, which are then brought to your table on small plates.

With all the heavy meals and rich foods available during the holiday season, an antipasti buffet can be a welcome alternative. Instead of laying out a large platter, try small plates with multiple offerings for a palette-like effect and a dazzling presentation. Don't shy away from prepared foods. High-quality canned goods like artichokes, tuna in oil, and beans can help keep cooking to a minimum.
For a dressing, drizzle extra virgin olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and a twist of fresh black pepper on your selections. Let the food speak for itself. Serve with a loaf of crusty bread and a glass of red wine. The recipes here will serve 6-8. Buon apetito.

For dinner, too, eggs are a reliable comfort food

2003-12-18T13:16:00.001-05:00

They're baaaack! Eggs that is. Denigrated for being high in cholesterol, eggs seem to be regaining their Grade A status. Sunnyside up or down, there is no more throwing away the yolk and making that pale substitute: an egg-white omelet. Diets like Atkins and South Beach tout protein, protein, and more protein.
We all know eggs are a good source of protein, but did you know the yolk is also an excellent source of lutein? Lutein is a caratenoid, often found in plants (carrots and tomatoes), and is famous for helping us maintain healthy eyes.

Scrambled, fried, and poached eggs are old friends at breakfast and brunch. Sometimes they show up for lunch as a salad -- or in a salad -- or at a party, deviled. But dinner?
For those of us who never fell out of love with eggs, there is nothing more comforting than a plate of scrambled eggs, day or night. When you just can't face making another meal, or when the cupboards are almost bare, how about having a backward day? Breakfast for dinner. You can elevate a humble plate of scrambled eggs to dinner fare by adding just a few ingredients.

In my Jewish family when I grew up, there was always a big, fat Hebrew National Kosher salami in the fridge -- and on Sunday mornings, a half-pound of lox wrapped in deli paper for the bagels. When my mother needed a break during the week, my dad would make my brothers and me salami and eggs, or lox, eggs, and onions for dinner. Shaking the pan back and forth over the heat, he loosened the half-cooked mixture and flipped it in the air, delighting us as it fell back in the pan perfectly whole.
Served with deli mustard and seeded rye toast, it was a real treat. It still is.

Eggs with lox and onions
Serves 4

1 medium onion, diced
2 tablespoons butter
1/4 pound smoked salmon slices
6-8 eggs
1/4 cup milk
Pepper to taste

1. In a large frying pan, melt the butter. Add the diced onions and saute for 5 minutes, until onions begin to get translucent.
2. Cut the lox into thread-like pieces, though not too thin. Add to the onion mixture and fry for about one minute, stirring constantly. The lox will begin to turn pale.
3. Beat eggs in a bowl and add pepper. Pour over lox mixture.
4. Here is where personal preference comes in: You can either toss the eggs about as though you are making scrambled eggs, or let the eggs set over the salmon mixture like a pancake and flip to just set the other side.
4. Serve with rye toast.

Salami and eggs
Serves 4.
Add a salad and you have a complete meal.

8-12 quarter-inch-thick slices of kosher salami, or any salami you like (preferably cut directly from the individual logs). Use as many slices as you need to fit them comfortably in a single layer in a large frying pan
6-8 large eggs
1/4 cup milk (optional)
Salt and pepper
Scant tablespoon of oil

1. Beat 6 eggs in a bowl. Sprinkle in a little salt and pepper. To make the eggs fluffier, add the quarter cup of milk (omit the milk if you are kosher).
2. Drizzle oil into a large frying pan and heat for about 30 seconds.
3. Add the salami slices to the pan in concentric circles with the last piece in dead center.
4. Fry the salami for about one minute on each side until brown.
5. Pour the eggs over the salami slices, tilting the pan in circles until all the spaces are filled in with the eggs.
6. Cook the eggs until they begin to set. Run a metal spatula around the edges of the eggs and toward the center, loosening the round.
7. Carefully turn the salami and eggs over. If you don't think you can do it in one piece, cut it into quarters and turn each individually. Cook for an additional minute or two, depending on how firm you like your eggs.
8. Serve with deli mustard and rye toast.

Along with your cod, a side of controversy

2003-12-11T13:14:00.001-05:00

The North Atlantic cod is the fish for which Boston is famous, the one after which the Cape is named, the main ingredient in our fish chowder. According to Mark Kurlansky, author of "Cod, a Biography of the Fish that Changed the World" (Penguin), the control of cod also has led to war and prosperity. Long before explorers from Northern Europe came looking for it in the 15th century, it was a dietary staple for Native Americans in this region.

These days, cod is again at the center of a clash, this time between scientists and fishermen; both want to preserve cod stocks, but they cannot agree yet on how to solve the problem. While some cod stocks are coming back, their numbers remain at or near historic lows.

Meanwhile, cod is still in fish markets and at seafood counters and is the all-purpose white fish. It's firm-fleshed and versatile, not "fishy" in flavor or smell, and stands up well to all methods of cooking. Even people who normally don't like fish like cod. Cod liver oil is high in Omega 3 fatty acids and natural Vitamin D, and is touted for its nutritional value. When salted and dried, it is known as salt cod or bacalao and is found in many Mediterranean cuisines. For example, a dish using salted cod is a Christmas tradition in Italy.

Marty Hagerty has been working around fish for a long time. His dad opened Fresh Pond Seafood, the unassuming fish store just off the rotary at Route 16 and Concord Avenue in Cambridge, more than 25 years ago. Weathered gray shingles and a sinking roof might make you think this store is closed, but Hagerty's large signs tell you otherwise.

His hands are red from cutting cold fish. He holds up a whole cod he picked up that morning at the fish auction on the Boston pier, a daily event.
"We cut most of the fish here," he says, as he deftly draws his filet knife along the spine, creating two long filets. He then slips the knife between skin and flesh, and scrapes as he removes the skin and cuts the filet into smaller hunks. The thicker end becomes a "hotel" cut good for baking. The thinner ends are good for broiling and chowder. "I like it with some breadcrumbs, buttered and baked," Hagerty says.

Then there is "scrod." According to Hagerty, any cod from 22 inches to 4 pounds is "scrod cod." Anything weighing 4 to 10 pounds is "market cod," and anything larger than 10 pounds is "large cod."
Max Harvey, seafood manager and buyer for Jasper White's Summer Shack, says "scrod could be haddock, cod, pollack, or hake," adding that "the very best cod is caught with long lines off Cape Cod."

Harvey likes the taste and texture of cod and enjoys roasting the smaller ones whole at home. He stuffs them with herbs and vegetables, or roasts the "loins" wrapped in bacon. Harvey says fresh cod will keep for two or three days, wrapped well and stored in the back of the refrigerator.
"If you want to get picky, put a plastic bag of ice on top of the fish," he instructs.

© Copyright 2003 Globe Newspaper Company.

Cod simmered in fresh tomato sauce

1 pound cod, cut into 4 pieces
salt and pepper
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 small onion, finely chopped
4 fresh basil leaves, torn into pieces
1 clove garlic, minced
5 or 6 plum tomatoes, cored and chopped (no need to remove skins or seeds)
1 teaspoon sugar
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped
red pepper flakes to taste
2 cups fresh spinach, washed and stem removed.

1. Sprinkle the pieces of cod with salt and pepper. Set aside.
2. In a medium-size skillet, heat the olive oil. Add the onion and basil, and a little salt and pepper. Saute until onions are soft.
3. Add the garlic, chopped tomatoes, sugar, parsley, and red pepper flakes, if using. Cook about 8 minutes on medium heat until the tomatoes are soft and sauce is thickened, stirring occasionally.
4. Nestle the pieces of cod into the tomato sauce, spooning sauce over the fish.
5. Cook 8-10 minutes until the fish is white.
6. Place spinach on top of the fish and cover. Cook until spinach has wilted over the cod, about 2 minutes.
7. Serve with slices of French or Italian bread, for soaking up the sauce.

Fish chowder

Like many chowders, this soup tastes even better the next day.
Serves 8.

5 slices bacon, roughly chopped
1 tablespoon butter
2 medium onions or 1 large onion, chopped
4 medium potatoes cut into chunks
3-4 cups water
2 bay leaves
1 teaspoon thyme
salt and pepper to taste
2 tablespoons flour plus 3 tablespoons water
2 pounds thick cod, scrod, haddock fillets, cut into 3- or 4-inch chunks
2 cups light cream or milk (preferably not skim milk)
salt and pepper to taste
diced bacon and fresh parsley for garnish

1. Place bacon in a large pot and cook until almost crisp. You will have rendered about 2-3 tablespoons bacon fat.
2. Remove the bacon with a slotted spoon and reserve.
3. Add the butter and chopped onions and cook for 5 minutes. Add the potatoes and cook for an additional 5 minutes.
4. Add enough water to cover the potatoes. Add the bay leaves, thyme, salt, and pepper. Bring to a simmer and cook until potatoes are just slightly undercooked.
5. Mix the flour and water in a jar and shake until well mixed. Slowly add to the stock and heat until stock begins to thicken, approximately 2 minutes.
6. Place the chunks of fish into the thickened stock and cook for about 8 minutes until the fish turns white.
7. Add the cream or milk and stir carefully so as not to break up the fish. Heat the soup until hot and steaming but do not bring to a boil. Turn off and let sit 15 minutes. Reheat until steam appears.
8. Divide into bowls and sprinkle with chopped parsley, bacon, and a few twists of fresh black pepper. Adapted from "50 Chowders" by Jasper White (Scribner).

Korean scallion pancakes a savory comfort food

2003-11-06T13:13:00.001-05:00

Kyong Ok Lim pokes her head out the door of her shop, New York Oriental in Cambridge, and looks up at the darkening sky. She says it's on days like these that Korean families wish for scallion pancakes.
Rain or shine, however, on Saturdays Lim is in the kitchen in the back of the shop making her signature savory pancakes. A steady stream of devoted customers comes through the door welcomed by an enticing aroma and shouts of "Hello" in Korean.

Chung Lee, owner of a convenience store in Brookline, has made his way to Lim's kitchen. He picks at the hot, right-out-of-the-pan pancake cut for him by Lim's husband, Tae Pok, with a pair of long, stainless-steel chopsticks. "Mrs. Lim is the best Korean cook!" he says. "Just like my mother and grandmother. Her food is so natural, healthy, and traditional." Lim smiles shyly while her husband beams at the flood of compliments.

Her pancakes are made with mung beans that have been soaked and pureed, then mixed with rice flour and potato starch. Shredded ribbons of carrot, zucchini, and scallions are tossed into the batter, which is then fried in oil in a nonstick pan. She turns one pancake many times to achieve a crispy texture.
Mung bean pancakes are only one of many types of Korean pancakes. Others are made with one or a combination of flours. Most Korean housewives do not go to this kind of trouble, hence very good pancake mixes are available at the Lims' shop and at other Asian grocers. Add fresh vegetables, seafood, or kim chi (the fiery pickled Chinese cabbage salad) to make a wonderful pancake.

Scallion pancakes generally are served as a family snack. They are also available from street vendors in Korea. Americans have become familiar with scallion pancakes in recent years through the profusion of pan-Asian restaurants, many owned by Koreans. Here, scallion pancakes are a popular appetizer choice. Jackie Jung, co-owner with her husband, Yasu, of the restaurant Sushi Yasu in Waltham, suggests to her customers that this is like Korean pizza. Jung says the oil must be hot and the pancake cooked on medium heat. She serves perfectly cooked, platter-size pancakes, one chock full of seafood and scallions with crunchy edges, the other with vegetables and scallions with a tangy sauce.

These flavorful pancakes can be made easily at home. A dipping sauce with a base of soy sauce, minced scallions, sesame seeds, and sesame oil is a delicious accompaniment. Red pepper flakes, minced garlic, and vinegar can be added to give the sauce a bolder character.

Every Korean woman who came through the Lims' shop this recent day had a slightly different twist on the batter and fillings. All agreed, though, that just about anything goes.

New York Oriental, 355 Fresh Pond Parkway, Cambridge (617-868-9850); Sushi Yasu, 617 Main St., Waltham (781-894-9783).
© Copyright 2003 Globe Newspaper Company.

Recipes

Many recipes for scallion pancakes also include potato starch or rice flour. The addition of these aids in making the pancake crispy. We got good results without the use of either.
We also tested mixes which were very good. The texture is different from scallion pancakes at restaurants

Pa Jon - Home made scallion pancake - makes 2 large or 6 small pancakes

Adapted from The Korean Kitchen - Classic Recipes from the Land of the Morning Calm by Copeland Marks

1 cup flour
1 ¼ cups water
½ teaspoon salt
3-4 scallions, bottom and top quarter trimmed and cut in half and then into thin slices
½ red pepper, cut in thin strips
½ zucchini (skin on), cut into thin strips
2-4 tablespoons vegetable oil

1. Mix flour, salt and water together to make a thin batter.
2. Add the scallions, red pepper and zucchini to the batter and mix well.
3. Heat a non-stick frying pan on medium heat for about one minute.
4. Add 2 tablespoons of oil to the pan and let heat for about one minute until the oil is hot.
5. If you are making 2 large pancakes, ladle half the batter and vegetables into the hot oil. Distribute the batter and vegetables evenly around the pan. Fry for about three minutes before turning. Flip the pancake over and press the pancake flat with a spatula.
6. Fry for another 2-3 minutes. Flip again and fry an additional minute. Repeat with remaining batter. You can make smaller pancakes if you choose.
7. If you have one large pancake you can cut the pancake into several pieces and serve re-assembled into the pancake.
8. Serve hot with dipping sauce (see below).

Seafood Scallion Pancakes*

1 cup flour
1 cup water
½ teaspoon salt
3 scallions
6 - 8 shrimp, chopped
4 scallops chopped
(¾ cup squid /calamari rings - sautéed before adding to the batter)
(1/2 cup minced clams)
2-4 tablespoons oil

The amount and type of seafood should be used according to your taste. Do not overwhelm the batter with the seafood. You can find bags of frozen mixed seafood which is very convenient for this dish.

1. Mix the flour, salt and water into a batter.
2. Add the shrimp, scallops and scallions to the batter. If you use squid, sauté before adding to batter.
3. Heat skillet for about 2 minutes. Add oil and heat for another minute until hot.
4. If you are making 2 large pancakes, ladle half the batter and into the hot oil. Distribute the batter and vegetables evenly around the pan. Fry for about three minutes before turning. Flip the pancake over and press the pancake flat with a spatula.
5. Fry for another 2-3 minutes. Flip again and fry an additional minute. Repeat with remaining batter. You can make smaller pancakes if you choose.
6. If you have one large pancake you can cut the pancake into several pieces and serve re-assembled into one pancake.

Basic Dipping Sauce

¼ cup soy sauce
1 teaspoon sesame oil
2 teaspoons roasted sesame seeds
1 teaspoon sugar
pepper to taste

1. Mix all of the ingredients. Serve in individual small serving bowls.

You can add the following according to taste:
One half scallion minced
1 clove garlic minced
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes2 teaspoons vinegar

Zappin’ the Apple

2003-09-17T13:10:00.001-04:00

Traditional methods for baking apples take almost an hour, but how about zapping an a apple for a simple dessert or a sweet start to your day with breakfast? A micro-waved apple takes only minutes -- a great impromptu treat during apple season. You can even make an individual serving of fresh warm applesauce - no peeling and no pureeing - right inside the apple. Not all apple varieties are good for baking. Macs are great for munching but have a high water content and practically disappear in the cooking process. Choose a pie-baking apple like Cortland or Granny Smith, which stand up well in the microwave. Zap your apples in individual cups and they will hold their shape. Choose one that will rest nicely in a ramekin or small pyrex glass bowl (about 3 inches in diameter). Top with a spoonful of milk or cream for a lovely old fashioned flavor. The crumb topping is optional.

Zapped Apple

Instructions are for making one apple at a time in the microwave. Increasing the number of apples, increases the cooking time.

Ingredients

4 medium to small baking apples - it is ideal if the apple fits snugly into the dish and sits just above the bottom of the bowl.
4 teaspoons maple syrup
fresh lemon juice

Crumb topping:

1/3 cup rolled old fashion oats
¼ cup flour
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1 tablespoon white sugar
½ teaspoon cinnamon
(sprinkle of nutmeg)

1. Combine oats, flour, sugars and spices.
2. Cut butter into pieces and add to mixture.
3. With the tips of your fingers work the butter into the oat mixture until it combines into small pebbles.
4. Cut the top inch off the apple. Core the apple.
5. Remove some of the flesh of the apple to form small cavity for the filling.
6. Drizzle in one teaspoon of maple syrup and a spritz of lemon juice.
7. Fill the cavity of the apple with a few spoonfuls of the topping and slightly mound the top of the apple with additional filling. Press down lightly.
8. With a sharp knife, make a few slits into the sides of the apple (to release the steam).
9. Take a small glass Pyrex dish (approx. 3 inches in diameter) or ceramic ramekin and add 1 tablespoon water into the bottom.
10. Set the apple into the bowl so it rests above the rim and is not touching the bottom.
11. Place in the microwave and heat for two minutes. Check the apple to see if it is soft enough to scoop out with a spoon. If it needs a little more time, heat for an additional 30 seconds. If you like an applesauce consistency heat for another 20 seconds. These times depend on your microwave.
12. Remove carefully from microwave as dish and apple are very hot. Spoon a little cream or ice cream over the top if desired.

Feeding on the many flavors of Stockholm

2003-07-16T13:04:00.001-04:00

STOCKHOLM - Situated in an archipelago of thousands of islands, Stockholm is one of the most beautifully situated capitals in the world. After long winters, its frozen waterways are finally cleared of ice floes, and its tour boats ferry visitors in and out of its many harbors. By late March, it is warm enough to sit outside, and the city's streets and parks are crowded with diners bathed in the lengthening sunlight hours. By June and July, it never gets dark.

The waterways define the neighborhoods. Gamla Stan is the enchanting old town with cobble-stone streets, a royal palace, and low, colorful buildings hundreds of years old. Across the way stands the ''newer city'' where Victorian- and Edwardian-era buildings stand alongside their sleek and modern neighbors we've come to identify with Scandinavian design.

Stockholm may not be an obvious destination for an epicurean, but this sophisticated northern European city should be added to the list. The city's culinary status is on the rise. In addition to traditional Swedish fare, multiethnic restaurants are abundant now. You will find smorgasbords (the original all-you-can-eat buffet) and schnapps aplenty; or go for the homegrown and traditional fare: wonderfully varied herrings, great beer and cheeses, reindeer medallions, and cloudberries (a tart little yellow berry made into sauces and jams).

Swedes speak English nearly as well as we do, so you never have to worry about getting lost. Ask for directions and listen as the answer is punctuated by the intakes of breath characteristic of some Scandinavian languages.

You can walk everywhere in Stockholm, and it is easy to get around by train (Tunnelbana) and bus. But know where you are going and pay attention, for there is little warning as you approach stops, and there are few English announcements.

The large T signs everywhere would make Bostonians feel very much at home. Jump on bus number 46 at the Normalmstorg Plaza and ride with the locals for a 45-minute tour that costs just $2.50.

Sure, seek out the classic glassware of Georg Jensen, but don't miss poking around Stockholm's food markets for the perfect pickled herring. The Ostermalmshallen, located in the Ostermalm district off the Sture Plan (plaza), is Stockholm's premier gourmet food hall and market. Built in 1888, it's in an imposing brick building and has always been a gastro-hub. Its vaulted ceiling is braced by a cast-iron erector-set-like cage reminiscent of European train stations of the same era. At the main entrance, you are greeted by the mounted head of a large reindeer, smiling down on the deli stall selling his body parts.

Blue and yellow Swedish flags decorate the center aisle. Stalls throughout specialize in cheese, caviar, produce, cured meats, prepared foods, vinegared salads, and baked goods, while fishmongers dot the perimeter of the market.

The cold waters of the Baltic Sea yield an incredible bounty. Herring, flounder, mussels, giant prawns, baby shrimp, salmon, pike, and sardines all cool on enormous beds of ice. Many of the fish markets also have restaurants, so you have an opportunity to taste what you see. Smoked, marinated, and fried herring with beer is a typical lunch. At the Melanders' Fisk stall, a big barrel-chested man slices Gravad lax (marinated raw salmon) in perfect sheets while chatting up customers at the takeout counter.

At lunchtime, the joint is jumping. Lisa Elmqvist is also a fish market with a great restaurant attached. If the line for the restaurant is long, try the more informal and communal bar. The menu in English may not reflect all the handwritten choices on the overhead blackboard. One sure way to get something interesting is to order what the Swedes around you are eating. A plate with a layer of bread piled high with a small mountain of baby shrimp and a tall cold beer is a winner. Baskets of bread, crackers, and an especially pure and creamy butter are shared with your fellow diners.

At the Lisbeth Janson stall, homey displays of herbs, fruits, and vegetables share space with jars of native lingonberry and cloudberry jams, mustards, and pickles. They make a lovely gift of local color. Taina and Sven Pettersen bought the shop several months ago, and the friendly couple speak reverently of the original owner and their desire to maintain her products' high quality.

Another market with a decidedly different flavor is the outdoor Hotorget (the old haymarket) located on the Kungsgatan, one of Stockholm's main shopping streets.

This marketplace has been around since the 17th century. The flagging market was revived when Sweden opened its doors to immigration in the 1970s. Greeks, Turks, Iraqis, Lebanese, and Italians opened restaurants and took over many of the stalls by catering first to the culinary tastes of their countrymen, eventually attracting back Stockholmers.

The large open market sprawls at the steps of the Konserthuset, an imposing recital hall where pigeons and people perch for a rest, a smoke, or a snack. The towering sculpture and fountain of Orpheus by Swedish sculptor Carle Milles is a dramatic anchor at its base.

Shouts of ''Hey, Hey, Willkommen'' (Hello! Hello! Welcome!) come at you from everywhere. Huge tables of fruit and vegetables make a colorful and edible quilt of fresh produce. ''Try my sweet grapes,'' a vendor appeals aggressively.

Older couples stroll arm in arm leisurely through the crowded aisles buying ingredients for their evening meal. Middle-aged women pinch, poke, and smell before they buy. Without knowing the language, you can still tell there is a lot of negotiating taking place.

The flower stalls are ringed with blasts of color and seasonal decorations. At Easter time, there are clouds of dyed, airy feathers tied to branches just beginning to bud.

There is also an indoor component to the Hotorget at the far end of the plaza where the atmosphere is slightly chaotic. Butcher shops, delis, and little markets stand chockablock along the walls. One glass case is stacked with ducks and other game birds, feathers and all. There are also fast-food restaurants and a state liquor shop. People shop with a purpose here.

Tooling around a local supermarket gives you an idea of what the Swedes consume day to day. There are aisles devoted only to crackers, which come in every shape and size in beautiful paper wrappings. Refrigerator cases are stacked with tubes of intriguing caviar spreads adorned with the faces of happy children. A box of unusual cumin rye crackers and a tube of salted fish roe make a unique and inexpensive gift.

Of course, there is more than food shopping in Stockholm. From large department stores to boutiques, shopping is an aesthetic experience. World-renowned ''Swedish design'' is everywhere evident in appealing displays of products and store appointments.

You may not be in the market for an undulating yellow plastic couch, but a visit to the Nordiska Galleriet will show you the latest in furniture and housewares design. Like a modern art museum but free, the showroom welcomes browsers. You might wind up wishing to replace every piece of furniture and flatware in your home.

For high-quality handmade products, try the shops run by the Svensk Hemslojd, Swedish Handcraft Association. Wooden and hand-wrought iron pieces, woven fabrics, clothing, intricately patterned knitted sweaters, and ornaments - there's something in everyone's price range.

Although Marimekko is a Finnish product, it has a beautiful shop off Normalmstorg. From fabrics to dresses and placemats, one is surrounded by happy colors, nostalgia, and high quality.

If you are game for a 30-minute train ride, the Skarholmens Flea Market is on the outskirts of the city. There you see a different side of Stockholm. The indoor market goes on forever, containing mostly knickknacks, old books, clothing, household items, secondhand electrical appliances, etc. Several antiques stalls have wooden furniture, dishes, and porcelains. While most of this is ubiquitous flea market fare, the atmosphere is interesting. Many of the stalls are owned by immigrants.

All of these offerings show that in between your visits to the museums and monuments, it's more than worthwhile to mingle in the markets and absorb the many flavors of Stockholm.

Debra Samuels is a freelance writer who lives in Lexington.

IF YOU GO ...

How to get there

Lowest round-trip airfare between Boston and Stockholm available at press time started at $945 on United Airlines, connecting through Chicago. From Arlanda Airport, a taxi is the quickest and most expensive (about $50) transportation to the city. Check before getting in the cab, because most companies have a fixed rate. There also are buses, Flygbussarna (45 minutes), and a train, Arlanda Express (20 minutes).

Where to stay

Birger Jarl Hotel
Tulegaten, 8
104 32 Stockholm
011-46-8-674-1800
http://www.birgerjarl.se/

Small 1970s hotel recently updated. All amenities (including free Internet access in the lobby). Quiet but convenient location, 20-minute walk to downtown.

Wonderful breakfast buffet includes smoked fish, cheeses, salads, hot food. Doubles from $256. Summer rates from $128.

Lady Hamilton Hotel
Storkyrkobrinken 5
S-111 28 Stockholm
011-46-8-506-401-00
http://www.lady-hamilton.se/

Located in the Old Town; built in 1470, the hotel has a townhouse feel, full of antiques, charming small rooms, and Swedish breakfast buffet included. Doubles from $307. Summer and weekend rates from $217.

First Hotel Reisen
Skeppsbron 12
SE-111 30 Stockholm
011-46-8-22-32-60
http://www.firsthotels.com/

Small luxury hotel with cozy atmosphere located on the water, with beautiful views. Also built in the 18th century. Fantastic sauna and pool built into a vault below the hotel. Doubles from $179, summer rates. Deluxe rooms and suites come with breakfast buffet.

Where to eat

Backfikan Cafe
Jacobs Torg 10
SE-11186 Stockholm
The Opera House
Karl XII:s torg
Stockholm
011-46-8-676-5800
http://www.operakallaren.se/

One of three Operakallaren restaurants. ''The Hip Pocket'' is small, with posters of opera stars in their roles lining the wall. Counter-style but elegant. Great beer choices, delicious home-style fresh food, generous portions. From $14.

Lisa Elmqvist
Ostermalmshallen (see address below)
Fish and seafood; bar menu on blackboard. Counter service and restaurant seating. From $12.

Fem Sma Hus
Gamla Stan
Nygrand 10
011-46-8-10-87-75

This cozy cellar restaurant is located in the Gamla Stan - Old Town. Updated, sophisticated Swedish cuisine. $38-$50.

Cafe Tranan
Karlsbergvagen 14
Odenplan Station
Traditional Swedish home cooking. Under $35.

Stadhuskallern
City Hall (see address below)
011-46-8-506-322-00
www.profilrestauranger.se

Elegant dining room. Visitors can call several weeks in advance and get a replica of the dinner of their favorite Nobel laureate or enjoy the regular menu.

Where to shop

High-quality traditional Swedish crafts:

Svensk Hemslojd
Sveagagen 44
Subway: Olof Palmes Gata
011-46-8-23-21-15

Svensk Slojd
Nybrogatan 23
011-46-8-663-66-50
Swedish crafts with a modern twist.

Nordiska Galleriet
Nybrogatan 11
Stockholm
011-46-8-442-83-60
www.nordiskagalleriet.se
Furniture, in style.

Lisbeth Janson
Ostermalmshallen
Stall number 49-52
Food gifts.

What to see

A good website on Stockholm: www.stockholmtown.com

Ostermalmshallen
Gourmet food hall and market
Humlegardsgatan 1-3
Subway: Ostermalmstorg
Hours: 9:30 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday-Friday; 9:30 to 4 Saturday; 9:30 to 2 Saturdays in summer.

Hotorget
Kungsgatan
Subway: Hotorget
Outdoor food and flower market, some clothing and accessories. Hours: 7:30 a.m. to 6 p.m, Monday-Friday.; 7:30 to 4 Saturday; 10 to 5 Sunday.

Gamla Stan - Old Town
Royal Palace area
Winding cobble streets, plenty of little souvenir shops, and charming bars and restaurants. The Royal Palace is a must-see.

Vasamuseet
Galvarvet
Bus 44, 47
011-46-8-51-95-48-00
www.vasamuseet.se
Original Viking ship raised from Stockholm harbor. Great if you are with children. Hours: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. daily, Wednesdays until 8; through Aug. 20: 9:30-7 daily.

Stadshuset (City Hall)
Hantverkargatan
Subway: Radhuset
Guided tours only. Check for times. Site of Nobel banquets, magnificently situated, gorgeous rooms, cafe, and restaurant.

Beauty secrets? Check the fridge -- Make skin cream and a snack, too

2003-07-10T13:03:00.001-04:00

Sometimes it's OK to have egg on your face - or banana or yogurt or apricot or avocado. Just call it a food facial.

Facials at salons can be expensive, great for a birthday present for a friend, maybe, or a splurge for yourself. Instead, consider shopping for your salad and your beauty at the same time; think of it as an investment in good nutrition for both inside and outside your body.

Drugstore and department store shelves are lined with products like oatmeal face scrub, apricot facial mask, orange and grapefruit-infused cleansers, cucumber-like slices for your eyes, relaxing milk and mustard baths. Things we normally eat are in products sold to rub into our skin. But why?

Tammi Baxter, a licensed esthetician and spa director at Le Pli in Harvard Square, says avocados are rich in fat and oil, and therefore are good for dry skin. They also contain vitamins A and E, often used in lotions and skin products. Oatmeal softens skin and apricots are rich in Vitamin A. Acids, present in strawberries, lemons, and grapes, help cleanse the skin and soften it.

Dairy products contain lactic acids that also help soften skin and eliminate dead cells, called exfoliating. Apple slices, tea bags, and chilled cucumbers soothe tired and swollen eyes. The coldness of the cukes and the tannins in the tea bags and apples slices help reduce swelling. Cucumbers are also a good astringent that helps close pores.

Then there is the chocolate body treatment fad. Chocolate is one of the identifiable villains in the Battle of the Bulge, but Baxter says anti-oxidants in chocolate and caffeine in coffee help the anti-aging battle when applied to your skin. Le Pli doesn't offer a chocolate bath yet, but Baxter offers a yogurt and yeast body treatment.

''It's cool and soothing, and the lactic acid in the yogurt makes your skin very soft,'' she says. As good as home remedies sound, however, Baxter makes the case for a professional facial when you can afford it.

''It's like going to the dentist for teeth cleaning,'' she says. ''They do a more thorough job.'' Between visits, keeping your skin clean and moisturized should be a priority. She suggests weekly masks and daily cleansing, toning, and moisturizing, adding that sunscreen is a must even on cloudy days when damaging ultraviolet rays still get through.

Adrienne McCann of Portland, Maine, a licensed cosmetologist, says a sweet way to get rid of dead skin on chapped lips is to rub sugar over them, which acts as an exfoliant. Kristen Lopez, a licensed cosmetologist at Image Creators Salon in Lexington, suggests making a paste of yogurt and sugar and using it on your face once a week for the same purpose.

It's not only your face that can benefit from raiding the kitchen. Many of us with ''dirty blonde'' hair remember going to the beach with lemons and squeezing on the juice for blonde highlights. Brunettes say they were doing rinses with rosemary. McCann has another tip for giving your hair some bright highlights: ''While you are working on your tan, put cranberry juice in a spray bottle and wet your hair.''

Rubbing food all over your face feels weird at first. The mash is mushy and tends to drip. When the drips drop, flick your tongue and lick. Seriously - why waste it?

I smoothed several concoctions over my face - one made with avocado, one with banana, and one with apricot - taking care to swirl and cover every surface, just like icing a cake. The nose was a bit tough, so I ''painted'' it with a pastry brush. With cucumber slices on my eyes, I lay back for the 20 minutes of forced relaxation. Soon I could hear the birds and smell the light fragrance of apricots. It's aromatherapy, too. Fortunately, the doorbell did not ring. When the time was up (too soon), I stood over the sink and wiped away the mask with a damp washcloth. My skin felt wonderful and smooth, and a friend said my skin was glowing. Mind over matter?

Having some leftover mashed avocado in the fridge, I added chopped tomatoes and made guacamole. I folded whipped cream and some gelatin into the apricot and skim milk powder mix, and had mousse for dessert. Alas, there were no infants around to slurp the bananas and oatmeal cereal, but if there had been they surely would have loved it.

It's a mixture of folklore and science for sure, but what a delicious way to pamper yourself. (One thing to remember, of course: If you have sensitive skin or food allergies, check with a dermatologist first. )

Here are a few more tips from Baxter:

Whip egg whites into soft peaks and paint your face. Let it sit and dry for about 15 minutes for an instant, if short-lived, face lift.

Sea salt, sugar, and grape seed oil make a good exfoliant for your body.

Recipes

Avocado mask

1/2 avocado, peeled, pit removed
1. Mash the avocado until smooth. Apply to entire face. Let set for 20 minutes.
2. Gently wipe off with damp wash cloth.

Apricot face mask

1/2 cup chopped dried apricots, soaked in water until softened
1 to 2tablespoons skim
milk powder
1. Puree softened apricots and powdered milk in food processor until well blended.
2. Apply to face and let sit for 15 minutes. Gently wipe off with damp wash cloth.
Adapted from Rachel Paxton at www.gottabemegirl.com/facial

Banana oatmeal mask

1/2 banana
1 tablespoon honey
2 tablespoons sour cream
1 to 2 tablespoons oatmeal
1. Mash half a banana with honey and sour cream.
2. Add oatmeal one tablespoon at a time until you have a soft paste.
3. Apply to face and let set for 10 minutes. Gently wipe off with damp wash cloth.

Load up your plate with regional Italian delicacies at a 'sagra'

2003-07-09T12:58:00.001-04:00

MAGLIANO, Italy - There you are, dining al fresco on a warm summer's eve in the Italian countryside. Plates of the ''gastronomia tipica'' (local dish) are splayed out before you, and a pitcher of hearty wine is being passed your way. You are engulfed in a lively, informal atmosphere. The flow of food and conversation is constant. Friends and family greet one another with kisses on both cheeks and refrains of ''Ciao, Ciao.'' The aroma of grilled meats fills the air. And you know the bill will be incredibly inexpensive.

This is an Italian ''sagra, '' one of the traditional regional food festivals that take place in villages all over Italy, especially in the summer. You will find no better way to experience local Italian cuisine short of
having your own ''nonna'' (grandmother) in the kitchen.

Sagras are sponsored by community groups, parishes, town governments, or political parties, and all proceeds go to a local project, such as fixing the library or resurfacing the soccer field. These festivals can last from three days to a month, depending on the village. There is no need for reservations or dressing up if you want to go sagra hopping, but bring a car and a sense of adventure.

A sagra is like a giant block party or church supper. All the cooking is done by adults who volunteer, the wait staff is made up of enthusiastic local youths, and the food and wine comes from the town's butchers, bakers, farmers, and vintners. The long tables are covered with paper, the dinnerware is plastic, and grills and rotisseries are usually working at capacity to churn out aromatic rosemary-flavored roast chickens, mouthwatering sausages, and cuts of pork or beef.

But that is just the half of it. Sagras are meant to highlight a local delicacy: ''aquacotta'' (bread soup), ''baccala'' (salted cod), polenta, ''cinghiale'' (wild boar), ''fagioli'' (beans), or ''funghi'' (mushrooms); there is even one that showcases ''rane'' (frogs).

Then there are all the options for pastas and side dishes. After you review a posted menu, the townies write down your choices and take your euros (cash only). An Italian food dictionary and a paper and pencil are helpful, but there are bound to be plenty of folks there who speak some English. In any case,
this is Italy, so you can't go wrong with your selections, and at these prices (main dishes are usually $4-$7), you wouldn't care much if you did.

With a few exceptions, the sagras are held outdoors, at a town soccer field or just off the main piazza. Large extended families fill tables. Children are urged to eat, and teenagers check out other teenagers. Some sagras provide entertainment with local talent or carnival rides. When the children are finished, they play nearby. The adults are left to polish off another pitcher of wine and watch the night sky begin to sparkle.

Signs announcing the dates and featured foods of the sagras dot roadways and are posted on stone walls in and around towns. Even if you cannot read Italian, it is easy to muddle through a local paper's list of events.

Last August, we stayed in a house in the tiny town of Magliano, about two hours north of Rome in the southwest region of Tuscany known as the Maremma. The Maremma has it all but without the crowds: Etruscan ruins, the Tyrrhenian Sea to the west, and dramatic hilltop towns inland. Tourists here are mainly Italians and other Europeans.

Magliano holds a monthlong sagra just off the main square under a tent that highlights the local aquacotta. Walk through the one main street of this medieval town and pass a sprinkling of shops. Wander through the piazza, bordered by the church. By the time you reach the end of the street, the smells of roasting meats and the magnetic sound of laughter draw you to the tent. Here is the ''Sagra dell' Aquacotta.''

It always takes Americans awhile to adjust to the Italian dining schedule: We would arrive at the tent at 7 p.m., which is way too early, when not even 5-year-olds would eat (Italians generally start eating after 8).
After perusing the menu, we take a seat at a table, where a patient elderly man takes our order: Bread soup, ''salsicce'' (sausages), half a roasted chicken, marinated white beans, and a pitcher of local sangiovese red wine. At under $20, a feast for a pittance.

A handsome boy of 12, tanned and earnest, showed up moments after we were seated, his eyes fixed on the glasses, wine, and bread balanced on the tray he was carrying. ''Prego,'' he said, with the pride of a youngster at his first job.

Aquacotta was once a poor man's soup, but now has star billing. This wonderful soup has hunks of bread soaking in a delicious broth with carrots and celery and the sunny burst of an egg cooked from the heat of the soup. As we were leaving, the tent was filling with the buzz of a happy, hungry crowd. We would return again and again during our three-week stay in Magliano.

Once we figured out the rhythms of the town, we were able to stay up late and join the ''passeggiata'' (evening stroll). We enjoyed gelato in the main square and watched girls with hula hoops and boys chase one another with the unfettered joy of a summer evening and no set bedtime. With the clock approaching
11 p.m., it was way past ours.

We explored the towns nearby: San Andrea, Montiano, Capalbio, and Scansano, each with a sagra of its own. We would see a sign by day and return that evening. Or we would just set out at around 6 p.m. with no set plan, certain that somewhere in those hills or near the sea would be a sagra.

And by heading toward bright lights in the distance - indicating something was happening on a playing field - we were never disappointed. Once we located a sagra, if it was too early, we would explore the surrounding area and return at a more fashionable hour - like one minute after it opened. That is how we discovered the Montiano sagra and its delicious polenta with mushroom sauce.

In Scansano, perched dramatically on a hillside, the sagra was in the basement of an ancient building, featuring ''zuppa di funghi'' (mushroom soup). We sat next to a toothless old man who told stories of World War II and offered us glasses of Morellino di Scansano, the pride of the area. His wife insisted we finish the bread they left. The experience couldn't have been more memorable had we eaten at a three-star restaurant.

On another evening in the beach town of Albinia, with six people in tow, we ate heartily for under $70, including two bottles of wine. But beware the biting bugs of the Maremma lowlands: The mosquitoes ate as well as we did, and strangers were spritzing one another from a lone bottle of bug spray.

Afterward, we crossed the street to an outdoor flea market with live music. That same night, driving back toward Magliano, we happened upon a traveling Dutch one-ring circus, and $5 each bought us two hours of hilarity.

Going to a sagra, we discovered, is more than having a meal. It is a date with serendipity.

Debra Samuels is a freelance writer who lives in Lexington.

IF YOU GO ...

How to get there
This is an expensive time to go to Europe: Lowest upcoming round-trip fares between Boston and Rome available at press time started at $850 on Air France, connecting through Paris. From Rome, the Maremma is about 60 miles north. Take the Auto Strada north toward Grosseto and Livorno. At the end, in Civitavecchia, after about 30 miles, take SS 1 Via Aurelia toward Grosseto for about another 30 miles to the Maremma. The following towns are all off SS 1. A good map of the province of Grosseto is recommended. For a rental car, try Europcar (www.europcar.com), where a weeklong rental in August from Rome's Fiumicino Airport recently listed for about $58 a day.

What to do
Check the local tourist board for sagras. If you are staying at a hotel or pension, ask the concierge about local sagras.

Albinia
Seaside town. Aug. 25-30: Festa di Fine Estate (end of summer sagra) with typical Maremma food. July and August: musical evenings on the square. Aug. 18-19: arts and crafts exhibition and market.

Orbetello
Large town with region's main train station. It is also the gateway to Monte Argentario, with wonderful seaports and restaurants. From Orbetello you can get a ferry to Isola del Giglio, a beautiful park and nature preserve. July 17-21: La Maremma a tavola (Maremma's table), sagra with typical local wines and food. Aug. 13-17: Antiques, arts and crafts exhibit.

Magliano in Toscana
Aug. 1-25: Sagra dell' acquacotta (bread soup). Aug. 22-25: ''Vinellando,'' tasting of local Morellino di Scansano.

San Andrea
August (dates to be determined): Sagra del baccala (salt cod).

Montiano
August (dates to be determined): Sagra del caciucco (fish soup).

Sorano
Aug. 9-17: Sagra del prosciutto. During the same period, the town hosts an antiques and crafts market.

Capalbio
Sept. 10-14: Sagra del cinghiale (wild boar).

The open-faced sandwich: a savory slice of Danish culture

2003-07-09T12:55:00.001-04:00

Somewhere between the canape and the sandwich lies smorrebrod, an icon of Danish cuisine. Literally ''bread and butter,'' the smorrebrod is crowned with all manner of fish, meats, cheese, vegetables, spreads, and edible garnishes.

Open-faced sandwiches are popular all over Scandinavia, but the Danes have taken them to high art.
Where the canape is eaten in one bite and a regular sandwich is hearty enough to be a meal, the smorrebrod is always eaten with a fork and knife, and is somewhere in between. Each has just a single slice of bread, and several constitute lunch.

Danes choose from three to five different kinds of smorrebrod along with a beer. A Danish friend says if you don't have to go back to work, it is customary to also have a glass of ''snaps.'' This Scandinavian akvavit, a potent spirit (40 to 45 proof), is made from fermented potato or grain mash.
Kirsten Larsen, known as the ''Dame of Sandwich,'' immigrated to the United States from Denmark in 1959, eventually settling in Minnesota. ''Only One Slice, Danish Sandwiches, Smorrebrod,'' her cookbook, is now in its eighth printing.

Larsen explains that some Danish food, such as herring and smoked eel, can be heavy and oily; the snaps helps absorb that oil. ''It is also an opportunity to look your friends in the eye and say `skal,''' she adds.
Some time after she came here, Larsen attended a Danish Day Celebration where smorrebrod were being served. ''They don't look Danish anymore,'' she thought. ''Like foods from other cultures that assimilate into American society, this one had changed, and from that moment I decided to make an effort to teach how to make the traditional smorrebrod,'' she said.

Today, Larsen teaches Danish sandwich making and gives demonstrations at Scandinavian festivals all over the Midwest. She says that smorrebrod are served in a particular order: First come the fish, then the meats, and finally sandwiches made with cheese. The smorrebrod come both hot and cold.

To construct a sandwich, Larsen says, start with a thin slice of good, dense rye or dark bread (use German-style breads). You can also use sourdough or French baguettes.

Butter the bread - this seals the slices and prevents them from getting soggy later. Then place lettuces (Boston or leaf lettuce work well) directly on the buttered surface. The next layer is the featured element - shrimp, egg, or liver, for instance. Finally, add a garnish such as olives or anchovies and a sauce (the creamy, mayonnaise-based remoulade is popular) to enhance flavors.

A favorite sandwich among Danish children is the ''Hans Christian Andersen,'' made with liver paste (yes, kids in Denmark love liver), bacon, tomato, jellied aspic, and horseradish. That sandwich would be a tough sell here. Larsen's personal favorite is gravlax (sugar and salt-cured salmon) on rye with a dill mustard sauce.

A smorrebrod buffet is a good way to entertain on a hot summer night. Position yourself in front of a fan and begin layering. Make three per person (plus extras of smoked salmon or sliced pork or lamb) and arrange them on trays. Just add small glasses of akvavit or lots of cold beer.

''Only One Slice, Danish Sandwiches, Smorrebrod,'' by Kirsten Larsen, and ''Aebleskiver and More: A Sampling of Danish Recipes,'' by Lisa Steen Riggs, which has a good sandwich section, are available from the Danish Windmill (call 800-451-7960 or go to www.danishwindmill.com).

This story ran on page E3 of the Boston Globe on 7/9/2003.
© Copyright 2003 Globe Newspaper Company.

Basics of a Smorrebrod Buffet

Pumpernickel bread
Sourdough or French baguette
Rye and multigrain bread
Danish havarti and Danish blue cheese
Thin slices of rare roast beef
Thin slices of roast pork or lamb
Hard-cooked and scrambled eggs
Cooked baby shrimp
Herring(creamed,smoked, marinated or in a salad)
Smoked salmon
Smoked trout
Liver pate
Cucumber slices
Radish slices(keep in ice water until ready to use)
Baby whloe pickles such as French cornichons
Lemon triangles(thinly sliced from a whole lemon)
Finely chopped red onion
Sliced cherry tomatoes
Red grapes
Black olives
Sprigs of parsley
Dill
Boston or leaf lettuce
Chopped chives
Lumpfish red or black caviar
Remoulade sauce(see recipe)
Unsalted butter
Dijon mustard
Bottled horseradish sauce
Mayonnaise

Combinations

Smoked Salmon with sour cream and caviar
Roast beef with remoulade sauce, cornichon pickle and olive
Pickled herring with lemon
Red potatoes and egg with anchovies
Havarti cheese with butter, sliced cucumbers, and chopped chives
Roast pork or lamb with tomatoes and remoulade sauce
SLiced hard-cooked eggs with anchovies
Baby shrimp on Boston lettuce with lemon triangles
Liver pate with lettuce and horseradish sauce
Red potatoes and chopped red onion with remoulade sauce and chopped chives
Smoked trout with scrambled egg and chopped chives
Danish blue cheese with grapes

DANISH RECIPE

Cucumber salad
Compiled By Globe Staff, 7/9/2003

3 cucumbers, peeled, thinly sliced
1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
1 tablespoon salt
3 tablespoons sour cream
1 tablespoon sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Black pepper, to taste

1. In a bowl, layer the cucumbers, onion, and salt. Set them aside for 15 minutes.
2. In another bowl, combine the sour cream, sugar, lemon juice, and pepper.
3. Rinse the cucumbers and onion and shake them to remove the excess liquid, pressing the mixture with your hand.
4. In a serving bowl, combine onions, cucumbers, and sour cream mixture. Stir, cover, and chill for 1 hour before serving.
Adapted from ''Aebleskiver and More''
This story ran on page E3 of the Boston Globe on 7/9/2003.
© Copyright 2003 Globe Newspaper Company.

DANISH RECIPE
Remoulade sauce
Compiled By Globe Staff, 7/9/2003

1/2 cup mayonnaise
2 tablespoons sweet pickle relish
2 teaspoons Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon chopped capers
2 tablespoon chopped parsley or chives

1. In a bowl stir the mayonnaise until it is smooth.
2. Add relish, mustard, capers, and parsley or chives. Stir well, cover, and refrigerate for 2 hours so the flavors mellow.
3. Use as a spread in place of butter or use a dollop to garnish sandwiches.
Adapted from ''Just One Slice''

Time to step out of the box and make your own crispy crackersThey won't steal limelight from spreads

2003-06-19T12:50:00.001-04:00

Munching away happily on a variety of crackers gathered in a basket, a friend was incredulous when informed they were all homemade. ''Get outta town!'' she exclaimed. ''These are awesome!''

If you can make cookies, why not crackers?

According to Merriam Webster, a cracker is ''a dried, thin, crispy baked bread product that may be leavened or unleavened.'' Easier to make than cookies or bread - and with far fewer ingredients - crackers are simple to put together and a snap if you have a food processor. The dough is like a well-behaved pie crust that is easy to handle. You can roll the dough directly on a floured baking sheet. That light-brown color and the crunch comes from baking at high temperatures for short periods of time.

Like the child who should be seen but not heard, we expect so much of crackers. They should hold moist spreads without getting soggy, stand up to cheeses without over-powering them, provide a backdrop that is both attractive and has texture. They should be the perfect partner, but never the star.

Often, crackers share the limelight in the cookie aisle of the supermarket. Many crackers that are popular with Americans are salty, fat-laden, contain some form of sugar, and often are flavor-enhanced. No wonder they are placed next to cookies.

However, crackers made with whole grains, little if any fat, and no preservatives are gaining in popularity. An excellent source of fiber and low in calories, many of these brands, including Wasa, Kavli, and Ryvita, are from Europe. They have body, taste, and texture and are a great size for holding a slice of cheese or a smear of peanut butter. They are also a dieter's delight at about 25-30 calories per significant slice.

Supermarket shelves reflect the culinary passions of the host population. Like aisles of pasta in Italy or rice in Japan, aisles in a Scandanavian country are filled with knackebrod, or crisp breads. The packages are works of art. Twelve-inch wheels of rye crackers stacked five deep are wrapped in paper with beautiful folk art. Stacks of rectangular packages with whole wheat, rye, graham, and oat flours are but a few of the staggering number of combinations available. Used for lunch and snacks, these crackers need to stand up to a host of strong flavors like smoked and vinegared herrings, codfish roe and liver pastes, and pungent cheeses. And they do. They share equal billing with these toppings.

Knackebrod, also known as hardtack, comes in a variety of shapes. The large, circular, dimpled rounds with holes in the center were originally made by Swedish farm wives only a few times a year. They never worried that these hard, air-dried crackers would get stale. The knackebrod was hung from poles or broomstick handles in the home. The family shared a round by breaking it up and serving it with butter. These hardtacks also were a staple for sailors on long sea journeys.

The dimples were created by using a special tool with multiple tines in a circular pattern. The dough was pricked all over. Carl Hansen of Bedford has the wooden tool his grandmother, Johanna Hoyer, brought with her when she left her parents' farm in Sweden to become a house maid in South Dakota in the late 1800s. With 16 hobnails densely set into a thick wooden circular platform with a handle, it is the perfect tool for the job.

When asked what the tool was called, Signe Hansen, Carl's wife, joked, ''a knacke-pricker of course!'' The tines of a fork will also work but is not nearly as much fun to use or say.

You do have to look hard for recipes for homemade crackers, but they are around. Some recipes use only flour, salt, and water. Other will have yeast or butter.

Experimenting with various flours produced a variety of results. In making the Swedish knackebrod, all rye flour was used. The dough was soft and set to rise once, producing a dense, crispy, flavorful cracker. A large pie plate served as a pattern for the circle and a shot glass made the hole in the center. The knacke-pricker made short work of piercing the dough. At another try, the tines of the fork performed admirably.

A shortbread-like rye and white flour cracker, as well as a cheddar sesame cracker, were some of the simplest doughs I have ever made. The process took less than 15 minutes and the crackers were rich and delicious. They are perfect on their own, and just great with a glass of red wine. A cracker with a white flour base and a minimal amount of butter was made special by concocting a multi-seed topping I rolled into the dough.

To make the crackers a little fancier, you can pre-cut them with a ruffle-edge pastry wheel. Some well-placed tine punctures and a watchful eye on the oven will produce some special results. It will be an ''I can't believe I made these'' moment.

Recipes

Rye crackers with cumin seeds
This is a rich buttery cracker with the surprise complement of cumin seeds.

Yields about four dozen.

1 cup rye flour
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons butter
6 tablespoons milk
2 teaspoons whole cumin seed
1 egg white, beaten for the glaze

1. In the bowl of a food processor, combine the flours and salt. Pulse for a few seconds.
2. Add the cut-up butter and pulse several times until the mixture is pebbly.
3. With the machine running, add the milk through the feed tube. Mix until dough forms a ball.
4. Turn the dough onto a floured surface. Add a little white flour and knead into a ball. Dough should not stick to your hands. Flatten and wrap with foil. Refrigerate for several hours.
5. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
6. Remove dough to a buttered baking sheet (with no sides is best) and flatten with the palm of your hand into a circle.
7. Sprinkle flour over the dough and roll into a rectangle to about 1/4 inch.
8. Sprinkle cumin seeds evenly over the surface of the dough. Press the seeds into the dough by lightly drawing the rolling pin over the surface.
9. Prick the dough all over with the tines of a fork. With a pizza wheel or pastry wheel, make 4-5 vertical cuts and 7 or 8 horizontal cuts.
10. Brush dough with egg white.
11. Bake crackers about 20-25 minutes, until lightly browned.
12. Transfer to a wire rack to cool. Store in airtight container.

Adapted from ''The Way We Cook'' by Sheryl Julian and Julie Riven

Multiseeded crackers

Yields about 20.

1 cup all-purpose white flour
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
2 tablespoons butter, cut into pieces
1/4 cup water

Preheat oven to 425 degrees

1. In the bowl of a food processor, combine flour, salt, and butter.
2. Pulse for 30 seconds until mixture looks pebbly.
3. With motor running, pour the water through the feed tube, just until the mixture forms a ball. Add more water by tablespoonful if necessary.
4. Flour the top of a surface and roll dough into a rectangle about 1/2-inch thick.
5. Sprinkle seed mixture on top of dough and, with rolling pin, roll the mixture lightly into the dough.
6. Lightly spray a cookie sheet with oil. Sprinkle on flour.
7. With a spatula, slide rectangle onto baking sheet.
8. With a sharp knife or pizza cutter, and light pressure, make about four vertical cuts and five horizontal cuts, giving you about 20 crackers.
9. Bake for 10 minutes, until the crackers begin to brown.
1 0. As crackers bake, they will separate. Remove to a wire rack and let cool.

Store in airtight container.

Note: Try substituting 1/2 cup of whole-wheat flour or add 1/4 cup wheat germ.

Seed mixture
This makes more than needed for recipe. Keep in airtight jar and use on breads.

2 teaspoons poppy seeds
1 tablespoon sesame seeds
1 teaspoon celery salt
1 tablespoon onion flakes
1 tablespoon caraway seeds

1. Mix together in a bowl. Store in airtight jar.

Adapted from ''How to Cook Everything'' by Mark Bittman

Cheddar sesame crackers

Yields at least three dozen.

3/4 cup grated cheddar cheese
3 tablespoons butter
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1/8 teaspoon pepper
1 tablespoon sesame seeds

1. Preheat oven to 475 degrees.
2. In bowl of food processor, place flour, pepper, and butter. Pulse until mixture resembles pebbles.
3. Add grated cheese and Worcestershire sauce. Pulse until dough forms a ball.
4. Remove and flatten slightly. Wrap in foil and chill for 1 hour.
5. On a well-floured board, roll out the dough to a 1/4-inch thickness. With a shot glass, cut out cheddar rounds and place on cookie sheet.
6. Sprinkle sesame seeds on each cracker and lightly press into dough with fingertip.
7. Bake for 10 minutes.

Note: You can also pull off pieces of dough and roll snake-like between the palm of your hands. Roll in sesame seeds or multi-seed mix. Store in airtight container.

Adapted from ''The Joy of Cooking''

A pumped-up energy-drink industry flexes its muscles

2003-05-29T12:47:00.001-04:00

''Party like a rock star.'' ''For energy that lasts.'' ''Xapp your mind, Xapp your muscles.'' ''Vitalizes body and mind.'' Amp, Monster, Adrenaline Rush, Red Bull, XAPP: Are we talking about heavy metal bands here?

No, these are the latest entries in the exploding energy-drink market, replete with fan clubs. What their devotees are cheering about are the caffeinated sodas with added vitamins, caffeine, herb extracts, supplements, and a large dose of hype.

No matter that they have a chemical sweetness and an aftertaste. Red Bull tastes like liquid bubble gum; Xapp, a ''protein energy drink'' whose second ingredient is whey protein powder (which is hard to disguise), is barely palatable. Popular among teenagers and ''20-somethings,'' these citrusy and lightly carbonated drinks are sometimes consumed before a workout, but also before tests, at parties, and even in bars (sometimes mixed with alcohol).

These companies know their target audience. A call to the company that produces Monster Energy Drink to ask about the ingredient listed as ''energy blend'' was met with this message: ''Hey Dudes, we're down in the lab mixing up the wicked brew. Leave your name and number and we'll call back. Party on!'' For the record, we called twice and they didn't call back.

A lot goes into this legal quick-fix. Besides caffeine, other ingredients include guarana extract, a natural caffeine-like stimulant derived from a Brazilian plant; taurine, an amino acid that aids the body in times of stress; and B vitamins such as niacin, pyridoxine, and pantothenic acid, which are also found in fruit and help produce energy.

But is the ''buzz'' about the power drinks really due to these added stimulants?

Joyce Dendy of Watertown, a dietitian and certified personal trainer, believes the value of these ingredients has not been proven scientifically. She wonders aloud if the drinks' success is more a matter of ''the placebo effect'' and marketing. Simply put, is it mind over matter?

Red Bull was distributed to a team of 12-year-old boys during halftime at a soccer game recently. Someone must have read the package about increased endurance and improved performance. With 80 milligrams of caffeine in an 8-ounce serving, Bull has less caffeine than an 8-ounce cup of coffee(135-250 milligrams, depending on the brand) but more than twice as much as colas, which contain about 45 milligrams of caffeine in 12 ounces. Caffeine is a diuretic that can contribute to dehydration, clearly not desirable during a sporting event.

When water went out of fashion in the mid-1960s, Gatorade was the first sports drink on the market. Propel and Powerade have since joined a long list of similar hydrating drinks that contain no caffeine. These sports drinks provide the athlete with energy and replace electrolytes lost during strenuous activity. Dendy feels there is a place for these drinks.

''Glucose and/or sucrose are often the second ingredient after water,'' she said. ''These are added to give the body the type of sugar that can be absorbed to help provide energy. Both of these sugars are absorbed quickly through the lining of the stomach and into the blood stream. It is sugars like fructose and corn syrup that have a slower absorption rate and thus stay in the stomach longer. If consumed during exercise, they can cause cramping.''

Loss of electrolytes like sodium, potassium, calcium, and magnesium can be an issue for endurance athletes. Electrolytes are important as they carry nerve impulses and aid in muscle contractions. According to Joan Buchbinder of Brookline, however, a dietitian and sports nutritionist, the average person doing a 60-minute workout in the gym is not in danger.

''Take some water and add a splash of your favorite juice,'' Buchbinder said. ''This will keep your blood sugar up.'' When asked if adding a little salt would be helpful, she responded that it is unnecessary as Americans already have too much salt in their diets.

Now that water is back in fashion, even juice and water companies have jumped in with their own enhanced drinks. Water sold with vitamins in products like Vitaminwater and in Fruit2O Plus contains fruit juice, electrolytes, vitamins, and calories. When asked about the value of these vitamin waters, Dr. Robert Stacks, head of pediatrics at Faulkner Hospital in Boston, chuckled, then asked: ''What ever happened to water?''

He explained the body needs only a certain amount of these vitamins. When it gets what it needs, it expels the rest. ''I bet a lot of people have some very strong urine,'' he said. ''Now, if only the urine could pump the iron.''

Speaking of pumping iron, a whole slew of other drinks is sold at places like GNC and The Vitamin Shoppe. Rip Force and Speed Stacks are designed to be taken before a workout and are sold as performance enhancers. Luke Thompson, a 23-year-old college student from Arlington, says these help him have a better workout. This was echoed by several buff sales guys at these two shops. One did acknowledge that the effect lasts just a short while, ''and then you crash.''

Drinks like Rip Force and Speed Stack also contain mah huang, a Chinese herb known commonly as ephedra, the dietary supplement used as a stimulant in weight loss and energy improvement that recently was banned by minor league baseball. Ephedra, which increases the heart rate and is also a diuretic, is sold legally only to those 18 or older. Sales clerks at a GNC store in the Burlington Mall said the company is beginning to take these drinks off the market due to recent bad press surrounding ephedra.

Dendy insists one cannot underestimate the importance of good nutrition, adequate hydration, and rest in performance and recovery.

''If you are not sure about a certain ingredient, find out about it on the Internet,'' she said. ''You can also consult with a dietitian.''

Kevin Russo, wrestling coach at Watertown High School, agrees. He said Americans are looking for a ''quick fix,'' when fitness is really a matter of hard work and good nutrition.

The beverage industry has a website, http://www.bevnet.com/, that rates each of these drinks and gives nutrition information.

Aebleskiver, Denmark's answer to the doughnut

2003-04-30T12:46:00.001-04:00

COPENHAGEN -- Ask any Dane or Danish-American about aebleskivers, and you'll be treated to broad smiles. Aebleskiver --literally ''apple slice'' -- is a pancake puffball that rarely contains the apple tidbit originally tucked into its center as a sweet surprise.

But the name, pronounced ay-bla-skeever, has stuck. Gone in two bites, this traditional Danish dessert, sprinkled with powdered sugar and served with raspberry jam during the holidays, is made in a cast iron pan that resembles an egg poacher, with seven round depressions. It is placed directly atop a flame.

The batter bubbles, the puffs are turned with a knitting needle, and soon the aebleskivers are rolling from the pan. Eaten warm, they are downed before the powdered sugar dust has a chance to settle.

Most Danes have their own aebleskiver pans. In the houseware section of Ilum's, a department store on Copenhagen's main shopping street, Heidi Hansen showed me the latest in nonstick aebleskiver pans. ''When I was a child,'' she said, ''we visited my grandfather in the country. He made the best aebleskivers for me and my sisters. I remember setting the table and having a very cozy, warm, familiar feeling.''

The following day, by arrangement, Hansen brought her mother's batter-stained cookbook with her aebleskiver recipe translated into English. ''If we had time, I would make you some,'' she said.That evening I asked friends about aebleskivers, which are only available during the Christmas holidays, and if they knew where I could get the pancakes out of season. Geir Helgesen, a political analyst, told me about a restaurant 20 miles outside of Copenhagen that is famous for serving aebleskivers year round. A day trip along the Danish coast could, he assured me, conclude with tea and aebleskivers at the Malerklemmen Restaurant in the tiny town of Borup, a speck on the map. The Malerklemmen website (www.malerklemmen.dk) said that the restaurant is open 12 to 5 p.m. on Saturdays. My husband and I found ourselves happily but hopelessly lost in the tidy Danish countryside, where our maps weren't helpful. A kind soul led us to the restaurant. It was 4:10 p.m. Thankfully, we thought, there still was plenty of time.

We entered the centuries-old building with its thick thatched roof and the waitress informed us that the kitchen had closed 10 minutes ago. The owner, Michael Strand, heard me pleading with the waitress and came out from the kitchen.

He showed us two huge, multiholed pans: ''On some Sundays I make over 2,500 aebleskivers,'' he said, adding that he carefully turns each with a knitting needle. Strand arranged some warm aebleskivers on a plate with a bowl of jam. Sitting at a wooden table in a converted tenant farmer's home beneath antique aebleskiver pans, we would finally taste one.

It looked like a very puffy doughnut hole, and its texture was a cross between a doughnut and a pancake. It was not overly sweet, but just right with a dab of jam and a cup of late afternoon coffee or tea -- well worth the long trip.Danish-Americans don't save aebleskivers for the holidays but eat them year round whenever families get together. At breakfast, they are most like pancakes, enjoyed with syrup and sausages. According to Lisa Rigg of the Danish Windmill Museum in Elk Horn, Iowa, this drives some Danes to distraction:
''As Danes assimilated into American society, breakfast seemed the natural spot in the American meal for aebleskivers.'' When the museum holds its annual Tivoli Fest on Memorial Day weekend, ''folks come from all over for our aebleskivers,'' Rigg says. Elsewhere in the Midwest, and wherever else Danes settled, aebleskivers are sold at church fund-raisers. There are aebleskiver festivals and aebleskiver cookbooks, and in Solvang, Calif., named for a town in Denmark, aebleskivers are sold on the street to summer tourists.

Brookline resident Ingrid Finstuen is learning to make aebleskivers. Her Norwegian-American husband, Andrew, said, ''I remember being intrigued by the pan my mother used and the way she turned them with a poker.'' Andrew Finstuen's mother, Kappy, recalled how her Danish neighbor in Oregon, Lucille Stubkjaer, made hundreds of them for her wedding breakfast. Kappy Finstuen coached her daughter-in-law in the art of rotating an aebleskiver last summer. ''I love them with fresh raspberries and sour cream,'' says Ingrid Finstuen.

Making aebleskivers at home isn't difficult. The batter is a little thinner than for ordinary American pancakes. Getting the pan to the right temperature is important, as is greasing the little holes, for which you use melted margarine or butter.

Turning the pancakes is tricky, but with a little wrist action and confidence, you'll be on your way. That just leaves the pan, also known as munk pans in Germany. You can find seven-holed cast iron pans in Chinatown (Vietnamese cooks make banh khoc, savory pancakes that use the same pans), and you can use knitting needles from your own collection.

Now say ''aebleskiver'' three times fast.

Super 88 and the Ming Market have seven-hole cast iron pans
($6.95). Look in the pots and pans aisle. Or go to
www.fantes.com/aebleskiver.htm; http://www.cookscorner.com/, or
http://www.danishwindmill.com/.

For vegetarians, creativity and nutrition knowledge are key

2003-04-24T12:42:00.001-04:00

''My favorite food used to be Chinese spareribs,'' says Reuben Solomon, 13, of Lexington. ''That is, until I realized I had ribs, too. I think I was 9 and I haven't eaten any meat since then.''

Reuben does drink milk and eat eggs. That makes him an ovolactovegetarian.

When someone says, ''I'm a vegetarian but I eat fish,'' they are ''semi-vegetarian,'' according to Reed Mangel, an Amherst-based dietician advisor to the Vegetarian Resource Group and mother of two vegan daughters. Vegans eat a totally plant-based diet and do not include dairy products, eggs, or honey. Some vegetarians also avoid using animal products such as leather in their daily life.

When children are vegetarians, it adds another layer of concern.

''Parents need to respect the choices their children make, for whatever reason they have chosen a vegetarian diet,'' said Dina Aronson, a dietician specializing in vegetarian nutrition. Still, many parents are concerned about where their young vegetarians will get important vitamins and nutrients, such as calcium and protein.

Aronson says the nutritional challenges of vegetarians and nonvegetarians are about the same. She says soy products, fortified foods, whole grains, fruits, vegetables, and nuts can provide almost all of one's nutritional needs. If one consumes enough calories (about 2,000 a day), protein deficiency is not a problem. The problem, Aronson says, comes when a child's diet is ''almost entirely refined junk food.'' That, of course, is not limited to just vegetarians.

So, what to do if your 15-year-old comes home and announces she is a vegetarian?

Mangel suggests you find out more about their decision and work with them on a meal plan that is sound and viable within your family.

''Make your meals vegetarian-friendly,'' she said.

Sometimes, one or two sessions with a dietician can provide the objective authority a young person needs and the reassurance parents require.

Aronson asks her clients to keep a three-day food intake record that she analyzes against the Daily Reference Intake established by the National Academy of Sciences. She then advises accordingly, adding, ''The number-one issue is to accept it and not try to force a change.'' She urges parents to have their children choose from among three healthy food choices, thus including them in the decision-making process. Done correctly, Aronson insists, the result is a healthy lifestyle.

Dr. Harvey Zarren, a cardiologist, could not agree more. He gave up his successful, 27-year practice of trying to fix the damaging effects of Americans' bad eating habits (clogged arteries) and now works on prevention with teenagers in public high schools.

''We should be eating a diet of plant-based foods,'' he said. ''If you do eat an animal, it should come from the water.''

These professionals agree that a variety of food, exercise, and eliminating or limiting animal sources of protein from the diet are important elements to a healthier diet.

Would that it were so simple. Reuben's idea of a great meal is three or four slices of pizza. He will also include a handful of grapes, cucumber slices, and carrots. Sybil, his mom, is concerned that he not limit his diet to carbohydrates. Reuben knows he has to eat what is put on his plate and Sybil knows he has great negotiating skills. On the positive side, Reuben is very aware of nutritional issues; he scans food labels and ingredient lists carefully.

When kindergartner Charlie Ramsland of Stowe became a vegetarian in December, it changed his mom, Sharlet's, life, too. They had visited a farm in Sherborn.

''I picked up a book and saw animals who were alive in the beginning and dead at the end,'' said Charlie. ''I felt very sorry for them.''

''He hasn't eaten meat since then,'' said Sharlet, ''and neither have I. It was a very powerful experience for us both.''

Charlie said that his mom lets him pick out his own food; his favorites are macaroni and cheese, and all fruits. For vegetables, he said emphatically, ''carrots and corn, that's it!''

As with any extreme change in diet, a good idea is to consult a health professional. There is much controversy and conflicting information regarding vegetarianism.

Many folks claim to be vegetarians, but haven't met a vegetable they like. Getting enough Vitamin B12 is important for the health of cells and is a concern for those vegetarians, particularly children, who do not eat any dairy or eggs. This is usually addressed through supplements and fortified foods. There are many resources available to help anyone be well-informed and well-fed.

Here are some resources for vegetarians:

Vegetarian Resource Group (publications and website); Box 1463, Baltimore, MD 21203; 410-366-8343; www. vrg@vrg.org

Boston Vegetarian Society (local events, newsletter, website); 617-424-8846; www.bostonveg.org

Dina Aronson(dietician specializing in vegetarian nutrition); www.nutrawiz.com

Sprouts(vegan family support and playgroup); vegsprouts@hotmail.com

Dr. Harvey Zarren(physician); presentations to PTO's and organizations on healthy diets and lifestyle

Connected Healing Institute; 781-599-4718

Recipes

African stew
Makes 6 cups

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 onion, chopped
4 cups vegetable stock or water
2 cups peeled, diced sweet potatoes or yams
1 cup cooked or canned chick peas
1 cup uncooked brown rice
1/4 teaspoon salt, optional
1/4 cup peanut butter
2 cups chopped collard greens or kale ( stems removed)
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon pepper

1. Heat oil in a medium-size pot and saute onions for 5 minutes.
2. Add stock or water, sweet potatoes, chickpeas, rice, and salt and bring to a boil. Lower heat and simmer for 30 minutes.
3. In a small bowl, blend peanut butter with about half a cup of hot water. Stir peanut butter into stew along with kale and cook for five minutes.
4. Add lemon juice and pepper.
5. Turn off heat and cover. Let steam for about 10 minutes, before serving.

Adapted from ''Raising Vegetarian Children - A Guide to Good Health and Family Harmony'' by Joanne Stepaniak and Vesanto Melina (McGraw Hill)

Creamy corn noodles
Makes 6 cups

1/2 pound noodles
1 15-ounce can of cream of corn
1 10-ounce package frozen corn
1 tablespoon dried onion flakes
2 tablespoons nutritional yeast flakes (available at health food stores)

Optional garnishes:
additional protein or yeast flakes mixed with parsley
chopped red peppers
chopped tomatoes

1. Cook noodles according to package.
2. Place cream of corn, frozen corn, onion flakes, and yeast flakes in a blender and process until smooth.
3. Place mixture in a saucepan and warm.
4. Drain cooked noodles and place in a large bowl. Add corn mixture to the noodles and toss gently. Sprinkle garnishes on top. You can also serve noodles and then spoon corn mixture over the top.

Roast vegetables

Asparagus spears, trimmed
Sweet potato
Kale
Sesame seeds
Olive oil
Sprinkling of salt

1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees.
2. Lightly grease a baking sheet with olive oil.
3. Place asparagus in a bowl. Drizzle olive oil over asparagus and mix until well-coated.
4. Sprinkle with sesame seeds.
5. Place asparagus in a single row on the baking sheet and place in oven. Roast for about 8 minutes. Remove to plate and sprinkle with salt.
6. Slice sweet potatoes very thin and toss in bowl with some olive oil.
7. Spray a cookie sheet with cooking spray and spread the potatoes out in a layer. Bake for 5 minutes.
8. Do the same with the kale: Remove the center ''spine,'' toss with olive oil, and place on baking sheet. Bake for 5 minutes but check after 3.
9. Place both vegetables on a plate, sprinkle with a little salt, and you have a crunchy stack of Vitamin A, iron, and calcium.

Consuming more than one serving a common diet buster

2003-03-27T12:36:00.001-05:00

In your cache of kitchen gadgets do you have a scale for weighing food? Are your measuring cups and spoons ever-handy for dishing out those suggested serving sizes on the nutrition label? For example, the one that says two tablespoons of salad dressing equals 1 serving?

We know that the amount of food we eat has a direct effect on our health and weight. Obesity has become a critical health issue for Americans. It's hard not to over-eat these days, though, as huge portions are busting the last notch on our collective belts and we confuse volume with value.

The one thing nutritionists, foodies, and diet gurus seem to agree on is that no matter what we eat, no matter which regimen we're following, it's how much that can make the difference between losing those 10 pounds or gaining them. Even here, however, things can be confusing.

''There is a difference between a serving size and a portion,'' said Randi Beranbaum, dietician at Tufts University. ''A portion is the amount you put on your plate. A serving is a measured amount for reporting nutrients.''

This matters, she and other professionals say, because typically, we put more on our plate than we need.

Serving sizes are not created equal. Federal agencies, professional associations, and food establishments have somewhat differing guidelines. The Nutrition Facts Label on your breakfast cereal, for example, was developed by the US Food and Drug Administration to help consumers balance important nutrients in a daily, 2,000-calorie diet. The FDA label is based on ''reference amounts,'' the volume of food consumed at one sitting as determined by FDA food surveys. Weights and volumes are expressed in standard household measures like tablespoons, cups, and slices, and the labels are designed to let consumers compare information about similar food products.

Within these guidelines, manufacturers still have considerable latitude in deciding what a serving is. The regulations say that ''if a unit weighs more than 50 percent, but less than 200 percent, of the reference amount, the serving size can be one unit.'' (Read all the regulations at www.fda.gov. Go to Reference Room, click on Code of Federal Regulations, then type ''nutrition labeling'' in Full Text Search.)

For example, look at the label on a can of Coca Cola. The reference amount for carbonated beverages is 8 ounces, according to the regulations, but the can says 12 ounces is one serving. Now, look at the 20-ounce Coca Cola bottle and the label will say it contains 2.5 servings: One serving is now only 8 ounces.

The United States Department of Agriculture goes about this differently. Its Dietary Guidelines for Americans, last revised in 2000, are depicted graphically in the Food Guide Pyramid. The guidelines put ''nutrient standards into food groups based on advice for a healthful diet.'' The controversial food pyramid is slated for updating in 2005. John Webster, of the USDA's Center for Nutrition Policy and Promotion, said, ''The Food Guide Pyramid was designed as a teaching tool, because people usually do not weigh their food and think of foods as items.'' In re-assessing the Food Guide Pyramid, Webster said ''it has become evident that consumers don't know what a serving consists of.''

Meanwhile, restaurants and bakeries get to determine their own serving sizes. We have all been to steak houses where individual, 12- to 16-ounce steaks are on the menu, or to restaurants where plates of piled-high pasta are offered as one serving. Doggie bags are part of the plan, but many people manage to down the entire platter. Depending on who is counting, the customer could have consumed three to six servings of meat or as much as 10 servings of pasta in one sitting in these establishments.

Then there are unpackaged items like bagels and donuts that vary wildly in serving size. A 4-ounce Bruegger's bagel, often purchased as a single serving, would be two servings according to the FDA, and four servings according to the USDA. Do we really have to do the math for a 670-calorie, 61/2-ounce coffee cake muffin that is considered one serving at Dunkin' Donuts?

People should learn to ''visualize a real serving,'' said Denise Barra, a licensed nutritionist. She referred to the visual from the American Dietetic Association to imagine ''a bar of soap for a serving of meat, a computer mouse for a medium-sized potato, a hockey puck for a bagel, and a tennis ball as a serving of ice cream.'' She recommended learning about serving sizes at home because ''we are adapting to super-size portions. ... We need to re-learn what it feels like to eat moderate-sized portions.''

''You and I have different caloric and nutritional needs,'' she said, ''but a standard serving is a starting point.''

Lexington brothers Andy Olson, 22, who is 6 feet, 3 inches tall and 175 pounds, and Alex Olson, 23, who is 6 feet, 1 inch and 230 pounds, were refilling their breakfast cereal bowls recently. They ate three and four times the serving size stated on the box - three-quarters of a cup, an admittedly small amount for these big guys. Being active, they probably would burn off the 450 calories they consumed.

Breakfast cereals, however, have a wide range of serving sizes, and a fortified cereal like Total can give you too much of a good thing if you don't pay attention to serving sizes. The idea that if 100 percent is good, then 400 percent is better doesn't work with some nutrients. Barra cited iron as an example: Men can end up eating several times more iron than their body needs when eating fortified cereals.

''Women have a higher need for iron and get rid of the excess on a monthly basis,'' she said. ''Men don't. If extra iron gets stored, it could eventually lead to health problems.''

While one serving size does not fit all, there is general acceptance of the FDA guidelines. Margo Wootan, director of nutrition policy for the independent watchdog group Center for Science in the Public Interest in Washington, D.C., said, ''Serving sizes on the nutrition label are generally reasonable, and consumers have become familiar with them. However, serving sizes do need some tweaking.'' She used the example of ice cream, where the present serving size is an unrealistic one-half cup.

She cautioned that ''consumers should look at the serving size first. Most smaller bags of snacks, like chips or pretzels, are not single servings, and it is unreasonable to think people are sharing these items.''

Recently, Sean Martorano had his hand planted in a bag of microwave popcorn, while Greg Gibbons, his fellow service consultant at Boston Volkswagen in Allston, had hit bottom in a Cracker Jack bag. Both were aware that each bag contained more than three servings and conceded that, if forced, they would share. Still, pulling the Cracker Jack prize from the bottom of his bag, Gibbons said, ''If they intended 31/2 people to be eating this, wouldn't there be 31/2 prizes?''

These websites may be of further interest:

http://www.cnpp.usda.gov/ (US Department of Agriculture's Center for Nutrition Policy and Promotion)
http://www.fda.gov/ (US Food and Drug Administration)
http://www.eatright.org/ (American Dietetic Association)
http://www.dunkindonuts.com/ (nutrition information on all their products)
http://www.cspinet.org/ (Center for Science in the Public Interest)

In the Lime-light

2003-02-19T12:32:00.001-05:00

MIAMI -- Ask any five people about Key lime pie and they will agree on one thing only -- it should never ever be green.

''Honey,'' said the slight waitress with weather-beaten skin at a little dive called the Crack'd Conch (where the choices for dessert were a slice of Doris's Key lime pie or the whole pie), ''if it's green, man made it green. One more thing,'' she added as she set the pie before us, ''you're never gonna find two Key lime pies that are the same.''

No kidding.

Whipped cream topping or meringue? Slathered over the top or a dollop? To bake or not to bake? Frozen or just chilled? If limes from the Florida Keys aren't available, will Persian lime juice, key lime juice concentrate, or key limes from Mexico do? The answers include ''absolutely!'' and ''absolutely not!'' What's a Northerner to do? The solution seems obvious: Taste all the pies you can.

The essential ingredient, of course, is Key lime, a tiny ping-pong ball that yields only a few teaspoons of juice. Sold in mesh sacks, Key limes are in season in Florida from April through November (but available year round from Mexico and Central America). When they're ripe, they're yellow, rather than green, and their tart juice can almost be sweet, making them perfect for baking pies.

Residents of the Keys insist there is something special in the coral rock and soil that gives their limes an especially astringent flavor and distinct aroma. In a blind taste test there was a difference.

Most Key lime pies have a pale yellow, almost white, custard filling made with lime juice (often a mixture of both Key limes and the more common Persian limes), egg yolks and condensed milk in a graham cracker crust. Some contain grated lime rind, others are made with milk, cream cheese, vanilla ice cream, or meringue. One lady, overhearing a request for a good pie recipe, offered her low-fat version made with yogurt, lime Jell-O, and (horrors!) green food coloring. Some folks add rum or chocolate chips or use a regular sweet pie crust.

Purists will argue endlessly over the ''classic'' pie. It's not unlike the thick versus thin clam chowder debate hereabouts. At The Key Lime Tree garden and gift shop in Key Largo, clerk Judy McGraw was mulling over a question about pies when all heads turned. McGraw whispered, ''you can start a war down here by asking about Key lime pie.''

Claims of ''best'' were dropping like ripe fruit from trees. Gift shop owner John McCarthy believes the petite citrus fruit contains detoxifying elements. He says ''old conchs'' (that's Southern for ''old salts'') will come into his shop, pop the top off a bottle of key lime juice, and gulp it down to cleanse their kidneys. Besides his pies, he also uses Key lime juice to make concentrate, shampoo, body lotions, and jellies.

Most Florida restaurants and bakeries have Key lime pie on the menu. The differences are often very subtle but when faced with a cloyingly sweet pie and fake whipped cream, you notice it. Miami Herald food editor Kathleen Martin says a good Key lime pie should balance sweet and tart ''just on the tart side of the meter.'' She thinks few palates could distinguish between a pie made with common Persian limes instead of Key limes, but her own pie is made with fresh Key lime juice, rather than bottled, when the fresh fruits are available.

One of the best pies -- one that has a creamy, light filling, just the right bite of fresh lime, and a dollop of real whipped cream in a thick graham cracker crust -- is made at Joe's Stone Crab Restaurant, Miami's big popular fish house, where an entire kitchen produces about 30,000 handmade pies a year. There, the bakers use both fresh Key and Persian limes.

If you have a hankering for a slice and don't want to leave your fireside, Joe's will ship one to you for $69 (a plane ride may be cheaper). While you're at it, get a mess of crab claws, too. The Blond Giraffe in Key West (a favorite of many Miamians) will also ship a pie for about the same price. Blond Giraffe pies have a high meringue topping and will stay frozen for several months.

Or, you can just start squeezing. Making Key lime pie is easy. It takes one-half to one cup of lime juice -- about 8 to 14 Key limes -- for a pie. If you find them, or some kind relative brings you some, get a few bags. You can freeze them whole and once thawed, the juice flows easily. Or, squeeze the whole lot and freeze the juice for 2 to 3 months. Putting together your own graham cracker crust is a snap and tastes better than the prepared variety. Key lime juice concentrate makes a fine pie (try ''Real Key Lime Juice'' from www.famousflorida.com).

Let the fresh lime smell make you dream of warmer days ahead, when the trees (never the pies) turn green.

Key limes are sometimes available at Wilson Farms, 10 Pleasant St., Lexington (781-862-3900). You can order them by the case. Most Bread & Circus stores carry Key limes. Products from Key Largo's The Key Lime Tree gift shop are available at http://www.keylimeproducts.com/. Search for Blond Giraffe pies at http://www.blogger.com/www.blondgiraffe.com, for Joe's Stone Crab pies at http://www.joesstonecrab.com/.

In Berlin, flavors of Turkey and Lebanon spice up the fast food

2003-02-05T12:29:00.001-05:00

BERLIN -- Isn't it fitting that the country that gave us hamburgers and frankfurters
now consumes fast food from Turkey and Lebanon? Doener from Turkey and
shawarma from Lebanon -- tasty sandwiches using spiced meat carved from a rotating spit -- feed Berliners of all ethnicities.

Comfort foods accompany emigres the world over, and Germany is no exception.
What once was exotic fare is now to Germans what pizza and bagels are to
Americans -- just another fast food with personality.

Standing alone or tucked into little shops with windows opening to the street, imbiss, or snack stands, are ubiquitous in Berlin. Patrons can save their euros for the more expensive evening meals and get freshly made hot sandwiches, which are meals in themselves, for as little as 2.50 euros (about $2.70). Most imbiss have no seating; patrons stand at tall bistro tables. Seating means the establishment is required to provide restroom facilities. But how long can you linger when there's no place to sit?

At Winterfeldt Platz in the Schoeneberg district, Habibi's is known for its shawarma and falafel. Its engaging Lebanese owner, who has been in Germany for 12 years, makes no adjustments for the German palate. Layers of boned and skinned chicken are marinated in spices and pressed together. After steaming, the huge funnel-shaped concoction is slowly roasted, gyrating on a spit under intense heat. An onion sits atop it to add flavor. Young men carve thin slices of chicken from the spit onto flat bread.

French fries and pickles nestle against the chicken. After a dressing of tangy yogurt, the bread is wrapped around the ingredients. Habibi's is clean and lively. Fresh fruit juices, yogurt drinks, and desserts are also available. You will be full for no more than about $4.30. If you can, go on a Wednesday or Saturday before 3 p.m., when the market on the plaza in front is in full swing.

The friendly shopkeeper at the Istanbul Grill near the Buelowstrasse station has adjusted to German palates by adding more vegetables and sauces to his doeners, which in Turkey are mostly meat. Served on flat bread that closes around steaming ingredients, the doeners at the Istanbul Grill have a garlic sauce and use different herbs.

Step up to the window and ask for a doener or choose another of his Turkish specialties, like the lahmacun, a pizzalike snack sprinkled with spiced ground meat, lemon, and paprika. Nothing costs more than a few euros. Eat while you walk, or stand inside the shop.

How about a little curry with your wurst? Currywurst, Berlin's specialty, is a sausage served ''ohne darm'' (without the casing) or ''mit darm'' (in the casing).

It is sliced and served on a paper plate with a sweet, spicy variety of ketchup and generous sprinklings of curry and paprika. No currywurst meal would be complete without salty fried potatoes.

Berliners love their currywurst and line up for it outdoors at imbiss stalls all over the city. With their elbows propped on chest-high tables, diners stand and pierce their steaming wurst with a long, two-pronged fork.

Curry 36 is a family-owned business on Mehringdamm, a broad boulevard in the Kreuzberg district. Home to the largest Turkish community in Berlin, Kreuzberg is slightly off the tourist trail but is a lively neighborhood where funky antique and secondhand clothing shops line the streets. Weave your way around laundromats. Step into a baeckerei and take in the savories and sweets of a
neighborhood bakery. Delicatessens, mom-and-pop produce shops, and bars and cafes filled with students line the street. Curry 36 has won numerous ''best currywurst in town'' awards, and its famous sauce is homemade. The smell of frying potatoes and onions is an aromatic magnet. Serpentine lines at all hours attest to the popularity of this place. No problem for a hungry night owl: Curry 36 is open until 4 a.m. Take the U7 subway (called the U-Bahn) to Mehringdamm. Have your fill of currywurst, explore the neighborhood, visit Viktoria Park on Kreuzbergstrasse, where you can see a waterfall and climb to the top of the hill to view all of Berlin spread out below Karl Schinkel's imposing monument.

You can get some of the best fries and currywurst in town at the outdoor Fritz & Co. on the fashionable Kurfuerstendamm, known as the Ku'damm (roughly comparable to Boston's Boylston and Newbury streets). Here the potatoes are from organic farms, thick-cut, and still in their skins.
A sign says the wurst comes from happy pigs: free range and well fed.

Shoppers in fancy leather jackets share standing-room-only spots with workers taking a break. Many of the imbiss and outdoor cafes on the Ku'damm have conical heaters perched on tall stands.

Wurst is found on most menus across the city. Unlike American hot dogs that are completely encased in soft rolls, these sausages are eaten on crusty rolls called broetchen that barely surround the meat. You chomp your way through a few crisp inches before finding the bread. A smear of spicy mustard and a local beer complete the experience. After strolling around the city, rest your feet by taking a seat at a local cafe. The kartoffelsuppe, a hearty potato soup (again with wurst),
a slice of dark German whole-grain bread, and a beer are satisfying and won't leave you stuffed or with empty pockets. In your wanderings, don't fail to stop into a bar for a Berliner Weisse, the sweet concoction of draft beer spiked with a shot of raspberry or green syrup (traditionally served during the summer, but order it anyway). Don't let the garish colors put you off.

The food hall in the elegant Kaufhaus des Westens department store (nicknamed KaDeWe) on the Ku'damm is not to be missed. Spectacular displays tantalize with chocolates, smoked fish, cured meats, and a staggering range of mustards, interspersed with food bars that offer champagne and caviar or apple streudel. Teddy-bear jars of mustards, honey, and chocolate spreads evoke Berlin's mascot. Packages of dark pumpernickel rounds and tubes of sharp mustard all make wonderful, inexpensive gifts.

A visit to the new Berlin Jewish Museum, designed by Daniel Libeskind, is both an architectural and intellectual experience. The museum looks at Jewish life in Germany over many centuries, and though it does not dwell on the Holocaust, its memory is ever present. (Libeskind is the son of survivors.) The subway stop is Hallesches Tor.

Reminders of World War II are part of the city's landscape. The decapitated Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church, with its ruined steeple, stands unreconstructed in the city's center; modern planners have made no attempt to smooth over the bullet holes in the magnificent Victory Column off the Tiergarten park. Be vigilant. Look up and down as you tour Berlin. You could easily miss a small, rusting plaque embedded in the sidewalk reminding you of citizens who were torn from their homes. The new Reichstag building, with its glass dome, is meant
to show that Germany is now a transparent democracy. It is worth a visit.

It is hard to believe Berlin was split by an unbreachable wall only 14 years ago. Today one moves effortlessly, unaware of crossing from east to west. From an outdoor cafe on the Unter den Linden in the former communist East, look through the Brandenburg Gate and watch a dramatic sunset of pinks and oranges settle on this new Berlin, a hub of culture and politics . . . and fast food.

Debra Samuels of Lexington writes about food for the Life at Home
and Food sections of the Globe.

Clay pots irresistable in design, function

2003-01-23T11:59:00.001-05:00

What do a Romertopf Schlemmertopf, tagine, and donabe
(donabay) have in common?

They are all earthenware pots with covers, from different parts of
the world. The high-domed Romertopf and Schlemmertopf are from
Germany, the pyramid-shaped tajine (tagine) is from Morocco, and
the round donabe is from Japan.

Using clay pots is an ancient method for cooking. You can now find
the modern cousins of handmade pots in beautiful matte glazes of
brown and black from South and Central America on shelves in
gourmet kitchen shops and cookware Web sites. Are we only now
discovering what has been known for so long? Using clay is an easy
and healthful way of preparing food.

Clay is porous and a good conductor of heat. These pots also hold
the heat. They come in a variety of combinations of unglazed and
glazed, and the cooking methods vary accordingly.

Both the tagine and the donabe have glazed covers but the tagine's
bottom is completely glazed and the donabe's interior bottom is
glazed but the exterior isn't. Both pots can be put directly on a heat
source.

Once the food is arranged in the pots, there is little left to do. The
style of eating from these pots is communal. Diners sit around the
pot and take food from the casserole onto their own plates.

Abderrahim Ibouzir is the owner of the Morroccan Bazaar, 2302
Massachusetts Ave. in Cambridge. He remembers sitting on the
floor around a beautifully decorated tagine, Morrocco's traditional
clay pot cookware. With its distinctive conical lid and flat bottom, the
tagine would be set atop a brazier filled with hot coals in his family's
courtyard. Inside the pot, food was layered, pyramid-like, in
geometric patterns. Quartered potatoes, strips of peppers, and
olives were placed over a fish marinated with lemon, saffron, cumin,
parsley and garlic.

Abderrahim sells the decorative tagines, but not for cooking. For
that, he has terracotta - glazed tagines in several sizes that are lead-free.

Ibouzir loves cooking in tagines. ''You can cook anything - lamb,
fish, vegetables - in 30 to 40 minutes; an entire meal is made in one
pot. The steam surrounds the food and cooks slowly without
stirring. You can walk away and come back just when it is finished,''
he says.

The tagine can be used on top of a stove and brought right to the
table. In Morocco, the tagine is placed in the center of a large flat
basket with Moroccan bread served alongside. Sometimes the
smell of food will linger in the pot, even after cleaning, but soaking it
in water and baking soda helps eliminate the odor.

It is important to remember when using clay that you must heat the
pots gradually. They seem sturdy but are fragile and can develop
cracks if not handled properly. These pots need tempering before
being used. However unlike the domed German clay cookware, it is
only done once.

For the Romertopf (Roman Pot) and Schlemmertopf, you must
pre-soak the tops before each use before placing onto the bottom.
You must also soak the Romertopf's bottom as it is also unglazed.
The Schlemmertopf's bottom has a glazed interior and is therefore
not soaked and cleanup is easier.

The folks at the Romertopf company maintain that since both parts
of their pot are soaked, more water is absorbed into their secret
mixture of red clay creating more moisture and better-tasting
results. Both are designed for use in an oven, not a stove top,
though some can go in a microwave.

After soaking and draining, the food goes directly into the pot and
into a cold oven. The oven is then turned on and reaches the
relatively high heat of 425 degrees gradually. Food needs little extra
liquid as the moist environment created in the pot locks in the natural
juices and prevents loss of nutrients. Cooking times are also shorter.

Many are under the misconception that these pots are just for
cooking whole chickens or turkeys. Not true. They are wonderful for
stews, briskets, roasting vegetables, baking bread and desserts
and come in a variety of shapes and sizes.

Yes, food browns even with the lid on. For more crisping, the lid is
removed for the last 10 minutes.

Truth to tell, I have all of these pots. I find them irresistible.

Note: Make sure the pots you are using for cooking are lead-free.

The Japanese donabe is available at Yoshinoya and Kotobukiya,
both in Cambridge.

Lamb and vegetable ragout

1 1/2-2 pounds lamb chunks
1 medium butternut squash - cut into 3-inch chunks
3 medium potatoes, peeled and quartered
3 tomatoes quartered
1 large onion, sliced
6 cloves garlic, unpeeled
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon oregano
1 teaspoon paprika
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
1/2 cup red wine (Merlot)
1/2 cup water or broth

1. Soak your clay pot according to manufacturer's instructions.
2. Drizzle 1 tablespoon oil over the lamb.
3. Mix spices and rub into lamb.
4. Place lamb, garlic cloves, and tomatoes in bottom of pot and
pour on red wine.
5. Cover with sliced onions and add the broth or water.
6. Cover with lid and place in a cold oven. Set the temperature to
425 degrees and cook for 45 minutes.
7. Add the potatoes and squash and drizzle with remaining olive oil.
Cook for an additional 45 minutes or until the meat is tender and the
vegetables are cooked through.
8. Remove lid and let brown for 5-10 minutes.

Adapted from Smart Clay Pot
Cookery by Carol H Munson

These breads go with the grain

2003-01-15T11:55:00.001-05:00

BERLIN - Early each morning, the smell of fresh bread beckons Berliners to the tiniest of backerei (bakeries), where locals line up for a slice, a bun, or a roll to munch on the way to school or work. Loaves are tucked into bags and eaten later with hard cheese, strong mustard, and ham. Bread plays an important role in the diet here.

Dense, moist, slightly sour, and often seeded, a dark German bread is one of the country's most distinctive loaves. There are many varieties of vollkornbrot (whole-grain bread). Among those I cannot resist are the heart-shaped rolls made with multiple grains and seeds and a triangular-shaped loaf; I packed them to carry home.

Once they were eaten, I was inspired to re-create them. Like any recipe, things begin to make sense once the ingredients are deconstructed. First I came up with a seed list. I knew that I should begin with rye and whole-wheat flours.

Ludmilla and Igor Ivanovic, co-owners of Iggy's Bread of the World in Watertown, are deeply committed to wholesome breads.

Ludmilla Ivanovic says that Americans have embraced European-style coffee, and now, whole-grain breads, as well. Igor Ivanovic advises the home baker to ''be patient and not to be afraid of the process.''

He encourages experimentation. ''There is nothing as satisfying as the smell of hot bread from your oven,'' he says.

It is easier now than ever to bake good bread at home, especially with the wide availability of grains and flours. In general, whole grains are more healthful as they include the fiber and protein of the entire kernel.

Baking bread with multiple flours can yield wonderful results. Substitute whole-wheat flour for all-purpose flour in a recipe, cup for cup. And substitute denser grains, such as rye and bran, in half-cup increments, for some of the flour. Soy flour enhances the protein content of bread and tends to keep it moist. Oats give bread texture and a nutty flavor, as does wheat germ. A handful of sunflower and sesame seeds add protein and crunch.

Baking a loaf of whole-grain bread means lowering expectations - literally. Whole grains are heavier and do not rise as much as breads with more white flour. Dough made with whole-grain flour is also stickier.

Because homemade multi-grain loaves are more compact and dense, they are forgiving, and if you're not crazy about the results, there is always the toaster.

Today, bread machines do the hard work of kneading, and so can food processors and heavy-duty electric mixers. Many recipes explain how to assemble ingredients when using this equipment. Rapid-rise yeast, for instance, which also speeds the process, is often added directly to the dry ingredients, rather than to warm water for the initial ''proofing.''

Many home cooks who would never think of baking bread from scratch produce healthful loaves because of bread machines. ''I love the smell of fresh-baked bread, I can experiment with all kinds of ingredients, and it takes no time to put it together,'' says a Lexington resident, Norma Currie.

To those who feel that the authenticity may have left the process, Currie advises: ''Get over it.''

If you're starting out, choose an easy recipe. When you gain confidence, graduate to starters and sponges to make the dough rise to loftier heights. For now, perfection is not the goal, but rather a wholesome loaf and a positive experience.

Recipe
Multi-Grain Health Bread

A hunk of home made bread with a slab of smoked cheese, a bowl of hot soup and a salad - a great meal for a winter's day -- Wundebar!

Makes 1 loaf

1 cup white flour
1 cup whole-wheat flour
½ cup rye flour
½ cup soy flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons yeast
½ cup warm water
1 cup milk
2 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons butter
½ - ¾ cup sunflower seeds
additional white flour as needed

1. In half cup of warm water dissolve 2 teaspoons yeast and half teaspoon of sugar or honey.
2. In a large bowl mix white, whole wheat, rye, soy flours and sunflower seeds. Mix well.
3. In microwave heat milk and butter for about one minute. Remove from microwave and cool until the mixture is tepid. Add the yeast mixture, salt and honey. Stir lightly.
4. Add the liquid to the dry mixture and stir until blended. The mixture will be sticky.
5. This step can either be done in the bowl or on a flat surface: Add ¼ cup white flour to the dough and with your hand fold the flour in until incorporated. Add flour as needed by sprinkling on a few tablespoons and folding in. Knead for about six minutes until dough is pliable. Be careful not to add too much flour. It is okay if the dough is a little sticky.
6. Grease a large bowl with a little oil or butter. Place the dough in the bowl, cover with plastic wrap and let rise about one hour.
7. Punch down the dough. You can either make two smaller loaves or one large loaf. Shape the loaf(ves) into a round - this is called hearth shape.
Place on a baking sheet, cover and let rise once more, about one hour.
8. Pre-heat oven to 350°.
9. Mix egg white until foamy. Just before dough is ready to go in the oven, brush the loaf with the egg white. Sprinkle the seed mixture all over the loaf. Gently brush more egg white on top of the seeds.
10. Bake bread for 30-35 minutes. To check for doneness, pierce the bottom of the bread with a thin knife. It should come out clean.

Seed Blend

¼ cup oats
2 tablespoons flax seeds
2 tablespoons sesame seeds
2 tablespoons pumpkin seeds
2 tablespoons sunflower seeds

Mix all the seeds and oats together. Store in airtight container.
This mixture can be used to enhance breads, salads, cereals or yogurt. Toast for 5 minutes at 250° and toss on top of salads, cereal or yogurt.

If you want to make this Multi - Grain Bread in half the time follow this adaptation.

Use 2 teaspoons rapid-rise yeast instead of regular yeast.
I used water instead of milk and melted the butter in the microwave in a little dish.

Procedure:
Pre-heat oven to 150°. Turn off.

1. Mix flours, yeast, and salt in a food processor or bowl.
2. Mix warm water, honey and melted butter.
3. Turn on processor and add water mixture all at once.
4. Turn dough onto floured surface and add sunflower seeds and small amounts of white flour as above. Knead until seeds and flour have been incorporated
And dough is pliable. Shape into round or long loaf.
5. Place loaf on a baking sheet. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise 20 minutes in the warm oven. Remove from oven.
6. Heat oven to 425°. Brush top and sides of bread with beaten egg white.
7. Sprinkle seed mixture on top and sides of loaf. Brush again with egg whites.
8. Bake at 425° for 15 minutes. Turn oven down to 350° and bake for an
additional 30 minutes or until loaf is done.

These loaves can be sliced and frozen.

Homemade goodies a satisfying gift

2002-12-12T11:52:00.001-05:00

There is something satisfying about making a gift of food. If you have time to bake and make the cookies everyone salivates for, great. However there are also wonderful recipes for snack mixes, granola, or spiced nuts that can be made in bulk in very little time. If you don't have time to cook, but still want to give something with a personal touch, you can hunt, gather, and pack to create a thoughtful gift.

Craft stores are loaded with packaging possibilities and glitter and glitz galore; there is something for every financial and time budget. Make the gift actually do double duty and last beyond the pleasure of the season. Containers can be anything from inexpensive Ball jars, French glass jelly jars, dishtowels, sand pails, coffee mugs, colorful plastic pencil boxes - all for just a few dollars apiece. Even festive, new dish towels can make great wrappers. Who needs paper? Troll through the cabinets. Remember those chartreuse linen napkins that've never been used? Now's the time to unearth them and wrap them around something.

High-quality cellophane bags, available at party and paper goods stores, are pretty and don't require any taping or tying. French ribbons with wire along each edge make bow-making a snap. Add a sprig of shiny stars cut from one of those $2 garlands and your gift sparkles.

No time to cook? Think outside the box. Put together a ''Snack
Attack Pack.'' This is an assembly project. Think in multiples. Hit
places like Costco, BJ's Wholesale Club, and Dollar shops.
Purchase fancy fruity water and individually wrapped foods that
come several to a box. Little by little, collect a cache of goods to be
distributed among the containers later. You'll end up with jars full of
a mixture of various candies, or wrapped cookies and crackers. A
glossy bag, lined with tissue paper, makes it a present.

So turn up the holiday music and get busy!

Homemade granola
Makes 8-10 cups

4 cups rolled oats
1 cup pecans, almonds, walnuts, or a combination
1 cup shredded coconut
1 cup pumpkin seeds
1 cup sunflower seeds
11/2 cups dried fruits such as raisins, cherries, cranberries,
apricots, and figs
1/2 cup canola oil
1/2 cup honey
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt

1. Preheat oven to 300 degrees.
2. In a large bowl, mix the oats, nuts, seeds, and coconut.
3. In a separate bowl, combine the oil, molasses, honey, vanilla,
cinnamon, and salt. Mix well with a wire whisk.
4. Pour oil mixture over dry ingredients and mix until they're well
coated.
5. Spread granola on a cookie sheet. Cook for 45 minutes, stirring
twice, at 15-minute intervals.
6. Remove from cookie sheet while still very warm and place in a
large bowl.
7. When mixture is cool, add dried fruit.

Picante spice mix
Makes approximately 3 cups

1 cup dried chives
1 cup dried parsley
1/2 cup dried red pepper flakes (or less)
1/2 cup dried onion flakes
1/2 cup minced dried garlic
1/2 cup dried oregano

1. In a large bowl, mix all ingredients well. (Caution: This mix is
spicy. Be careful when handling the red pepper flakes. In this
quantity, you can feel it when you inhale, so stand back from the
bowl.)
2. Buy glass jars for packaging the spice mix (kitchen ware shops
have great choices for just a couple of dollars) or use small
cellophane bags. Attach the following recipe ideas printed on a
card:

Pasta Picante

Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a pan. Add 1-2 teaspoons of picante
spice mix. Toss with your favorite pasta or cooked vegetables.

Dip for Bread

Heat 4 tablespoon of oil in a pan. Add 1-2 teaspoons of picante
spice mix. Place in bowl and serve with fresh French or Italian
bread.

Dip for Vegetables

Make yogurt cheese by draining 1 cup of plain yogurt in a yogurt
filter (or a sieve fitted with a paper coffee filter). After several
hours, mix drained yogurt with 1-2 teaspoons of picante spice mix.
Refrigerate for at least 2 hours. Use as dip for fresh vegetables.

Japan's lunchbox fare pleases eye, palate

2002-11-13T11:50:00.001-05:00

FUKUOKA, Japan - ''Tadaima!'' (I'm home!) Yuriko and Satoshi
Kawasaki cry as they remove their shoes and tumble into their
house after a hard day at kindergarten. ''Okaerinasai!'' (Welcome home!)
replies 40-year old Misako Kawasaki. She empties their school bags and
brings their Ultraman and Hello Kitty lunch boxes into the kitchen.

Early that morning, Misako Kawasaki spent almost an hour
preparing their lunches. Having spent more than five years living in
Boston, she knows how crazy this must sound to Americans. ''I
could never give them a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a piece of
fruit, carrot sticks, cookie, and a juice pack in a paper bag,'' she
says. ''The teacher and other mothers would consider me lazy.''

Instead, four times a week (''every day would be too much'') she
crafts exquisite, colorful lunches arranged artfully in cute little
lunchboxes. She turns tomatoes into tulips, hard-cooked eggs into
chicks, and rice into soccer balls, complete with roasted seaweed
cut into little hexagons.

A colorful, enticing meal is important in Japanese families. The
Japanese learn early on to ''eat with their eyes,'' Kawasaki says. A
elaborately crafted lunchbox or a multi-course dinner may not be a
sure sign of a mother's or wife's love, but it is seen as an indication
of her efforts, to be recognized by others as well as her family.

She's not alone: There are endless books and magazines exhorting
her and other Japanese moms to make these lunchtime treats for
their children. And close to half a supermarket aisle can be devoted
to supplies for the project. Choices, of course, get increasingly
sophisticated as the diner ages - and that includes husbands as well
as adult children living at home.

To that end, this mom spears glazed meatballs with ''Hello Kitty''
picks for the lunchbox, and cuts strawberries into the shape of a
fan. Her idea of a peanut butter sandwich would be to carve it into
the shape of a teddy bear.

At times these lunchtime art projects spill over into competition
among mothers and kids. And there is always some mild complaining.
''I am so tired of this I can't think about it anymore,'' says Eiko
Takahata. Her third child, Yoshi, is a middle school student who
prefers his mother's cooking even though lunch is provided at
school. Although Takahata no longer makes cute lunches, she still
applies many of the same aesthetics.

She opens the freezer and pulls out a package of frozen
Japanese-style vegetables - six individual portions in little foil cups.
With homemade rice, a pork cutlet, and pickles, she has nothing to
be ashamed of. By the time Yoshi eats lunch, the vegetables have
thawed, and who would know they weren't mom-made? In fact,
that's what the package says.

Prepared foods are everyone's secret: Tiger shrimp ($6 for four
servings), seasoned mini-hamburgers on buns ($5 for four),
seaweed salad ($2.30), and cheese croquettes ($4 for six) are not
cheap, but not prohibitive for middle-class families, especially
considering that women are working now, and after-school activities
are time-consuming.

Families may have only one meal a week together. There are
''kaginoko'' (latch-key kids), and some fathers so caught up with
working late and dining with colleagues that they're referred to as
''Sunday friends.''

In Japan, the best extensive displays of packaged foods are in the
lower two levels of the department store. These food halls are
bustling with shoppers and concessionaires hustling for the
consumer's attention.

''Come on, ma'am,'' says a gravelly-voiced vendor with a cloth band
tied over his brow. ''You couldn't make it any better! Don't you need
a break?'' The housewife joshes with him: ''Sure I can, but today I'm
doing you a favor!'' She tucks eight shrimp dumplings in her cloth
shopping bag.

Like many moms, this consumer probably goes food shopping on
her bike. She also takes food home to refrigerators with less than
half the capacity of a typical American refrigerator and limited
cabinet space. But the appliances will be the latest models.

And if lunch sounds elaborate, you should see what the Kawasaki
twins had for dinner on a recent weeknight: simmered vegetables
steeped in a traditional sauce; grilled mackerel; deep-fried ginger
chicken; spinach with a sesame-seed dressing; vinegared cucumber
and crab salad; a light broth with slivers of wild mushroom; crunchy
pickles; steamed white rice. Carrots were cut into cherry blossoms
and shreds of scallions were tied into knots. A simple plate of
steamed green beans with wisps of shredded ginger and a
sprinkling of black and white sesame seeds finished the meal.

And there were no other moms around to see what she had made.

KABOCHA NO NIMONO
(Japanese-style squash)

In this simple dish, acorn squash is simmered in dashi, a fish stock
made from dried bonito, available in Asian markets. Serves 4.

1 small acorn squash
1 cup dashi or water
2 to 3 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon sake
2 tablespoons soy sauce
Pinch of salt

1. Halve the squash, remove the seeds, and cut the flesh into 2-inch
pieces. Peel off some strips of skin so the squash looks striped.
2. In a large saucepan, combine the dashi or water, 2 tablespoons
of the sugar, and the sake. Add the squash; bring the mixture to a
boil.
3. Lower the heat and simmer the squash for 10 minutes, or until it
is tender and the liquid is almost entirely absorbed.
4. Add the soy sauce and salt and taste for seasoning. Add the
remaining 1 tablespoon sugar, if you like. Let the squash cool.
Serve at room temperature.

Adapted from ''Japanese Family-Style Recipes''

In Italy, fine dining is done at home

2002-10-24T11:44:00.001-04:00

You would think a trip to Italy for a food lover would send her
scrambling for guides to the endless trattorias, ristorantes, and
osterias. When cooking is your passion, however, what can be
better than staying in a house with a kitchen? My family recently
took a house in the small town of Magliano in the Maremma in
southwest Tuscany. Here, with the sea on one side and the
ochre-colored hills on the other, we had a daily choice of fresh fish
or the regional specialty, wild boar. A large picnic table with a grand
view from a tiled terrace became the setting for all meals.

There is a certain excitement when the familiar suddenly isn't and
the hunt for food yields such a delicious bounty. Trips to the outdoor
markets for fresh produce and herbs, shopping in neighborhood
groceries, learning how to match a pasta shape to a sauce,
discovering the local wines, cheeses, olive oil, and vinegars at a
farmers' cooperative were each an adventure.

Armed with very little Italian and a large vocabulary of gestures, I
managed to make it home with the ingredients for lots of interesting
meals. Shopping etiquette was a challenge. You have to weigh and
label your own produce, something I learned one day at the grocery
as the line was growing behind me, and the check-out clerk was
loudly repeating instructions to me in Italian. Some kindly person
took my hand, brought me and my vegetables back to a scale, and
showed me what to do. When I returned, red-faced and grateful,
someone else had put through my groceries and bagged them. All I
needed to do was pay.

An invitation from Andrea Aparo, an old friend, for dinner at his
home was a wonderful window on how the freshest ingredients
prepared simply can marry the informal to the elegant. Simmering
on the stove was his basic, spicy, tomato sauce, soon to host a
handful of fresh prawns and mussels. The smell of rosemary
followed his friend Sylvana's focaccia straight from the oven.

A large pot of heavily salted water was put to boil for the pasta.
Measuring pasta is not left to chance, even in Italy. Italians always
weigh their pasta before cooking it; scales are standard equipment.
Their rule of thumb is 100 grams, about 4 ounces, of dried pasta
per person. Andrea lifts a strand of pasta from the pot. It hangs
over the end of his wooden spoon and forms a ''C.'' Still minutes
from being done, he drains the pasta and reserves about a cup of
the cooking liquid. The pasta goes back into the pot on medium heat
as small amounts of cooking liquid are poured over it. He gently
tosses the pasta until all the liquid is absorbed and the pasta is
gleaming.

''Perfetto,'' he proclaims.

When asked for her focaccia recipe, Sylvana offered to
demonstrate. She piled flour (again measured by weight) onto a
wooden board, dissolved yeast in warm water, and poured olive oil.
She dipped her hand into a glass jar to sprinkle an aromatic
homemade mixture of sea salt, chopped fresh rosemary, and sage.
Questioned on proportions, Sylvana shrugged.

''As you like it,'' she said.

Using only her left hand to mix, fold, and knead, in minutes the
dough was left to rest and rise. A half-hour later, it was stretched
onto a cookie sheet, dimpled, and seasoned again with the salt
mixture for a second rising, then put into the oven.

The local, regional red wine - Morellino di Scansano - was poured
into pitchers. After marinating a whole fish for half an hour in lemon juice and olive oil,
Andrea cut rosemary from bushes surrounding his patio, and lay the
sprigs inside the splayed fish. Italian meals are generally served one
course following the other. Just as we finished the pasta, the fish
was taken from the grill. A simple salad of greens, and fresh figs for
dessert, concluded the dinner.

Antipasto

Serves 8

16 slices of prosciutto (less than half a pound)
1/4 pound Italian salami
2 cans artichoke hearts in water
1 can white beans
1 can tuna in olive oil, drained
1 cup mixed Italian olives
1/2 cup fennel, shaved with a vegetable peeler
1 small jar roasted red peppers, cut into thick strips
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1/2 cup Italian parsley, chopped
1 clove minced garlic
salt and pepper
extra virgin olive oil and balsamic vinegar

1. Drain the artichoke hearts, cut into quarters, and place in a bowl.
Drizzle with a little olive oil. Sprinkle with 1/4 cup parsley, salt, and
pepper.
2. Drain beans. In a bowl, toss the beans with olive oil, remaining
1/4 cup parsley, minced garlic, salt, and pepper.
3. On a large plate, arrange the above ingredients in separate
sections.
4. Sprinkle on the fennel.
5. Drizzle olive oil over entire surface.
6. Serve with olive oil and balsamic vinegar on the side. This is the
dressing.

Andrea Aparo's Fresh Tomato Sauce
Makes about 5 cups

4 pounds Italian plum tomatoes or two 26-ounce cartons of
Parmalat chopped tomatoes
4 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
3-4 cloves garlic
1 teaspoon kosher or sea salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
2 dried red peppers or 1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon tomato paste (the Italian tomato paste in a tube is
very convenient)
1/2 cup fresh basil
a dash of sugar if the tomatoes have too much acid

1. Wash the tomatoes, and cut off and discard a small bit of each
end.
2. Cut each tomato into about 4 chunks directly into the pot, so as
not to lose any juice
3. Turn the heat to high and bring the tomatoes to just under a boil.
4. Add 2 tablespoons of olive oil and stir.
5. Put the garlic through a garlic press, or chop it finely, and add to
the tomatoes.
6. Add salt, pepper, crumbled dried peppers, and the tomato paste.
7. Cook sauce on a low flame for 10 minutes.

Focaccia with Rosemary and Sage

3 cups flour
2 teaspoons fast-acting yeast
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 teaspoon sugar
1 cup warm water
2 teaspoons Sylvana's sea salt mixture (see accompanying recipe)
or 2 teaspoons kosher salt
additional sea salt mixture for sprinkling

1. Preheat oven to 200 degrees and turn off.
2. Place flour in the bowl of food processor fitted with metal blade.
3. Add the salt mixture, yeast, and sugar. Process briefly.
4. Through the feed tube, pour in the hot water and olive oil.
5. You will have a sticky dough. Place about 1/4 cup of flour on a
surface. Add the dough and begin to knead until it is smooth and no
longer sticky.
6. Oil a bowl and place dough in the bowl. Cover with a clean dish
towel and place in the warmed oven for 45 minutes.
7. Remove dough from the oven and punch down. Lightly grease a
jelly roll pan, or cookie sheet with sides, with olive oil. Place the
dough on the cookie sheet and begin to gently push it into a
rectangle. Carefully stretch the dough to fit the pan. Do not force it.
If it doesn't go to the corners don't worry.
8. Cover the dough with the towel and set back in the oven for
another 30 minutes.
9. Remove the pan and heat the oven to 400 degrees.
10. Drizzle olive oil on the dough and sprinkle on sea salt mixture to
cover the surface.
11. With the tips of your fingers, gently press ''dimples'' into the
entire surface of the focaccia.
12. Bake for about 20 minutes, until golden.

Sylvana's Rosemary and Sage Sea Salt

3/4 cup sea salt (not coarse)
4 sprigs fresh rosemary
1/2 cup loosely packed sage

1. Wash herbs and dry thoroughly between paper towels.
2. Put sea salt in a bowl.
3. Remove rosemary leaves from 3 sprigs. Finely chop rosemary
leaves and sage. Add to salt and mix well.
4. Store mixture in a glass or plastic container. Bury one whole
rosemary sprig in the salt mixture.
5. Use to season meat, poultry, fish, and focaccia.

Fresh Ricotta Cheese and Pears
Serves 8

2 cups fresh ricotta cheese
4 pears
sugar

1. Place 1/4 cup of ricotta cheese on each plate.
2. Cut pears into slices and arrange next to cheese.
3. Sprinkle sugar over all and serve.

Japan, being in hot water takes on a whole new meaning

2002-08-18T11:39:00.001-04:00

NAGANO, Japan - Bathing in Japan is not just about getting clean. It is as
much about transmitting culture as it is about relaxation. Children may bathe
with their parents until they are 7 or 8 years old. Friends will make an outing to a hot spring for a day of soaking and lounging, scrubbing themselves until their skins glow. At public baths, women soap up the cloths and wash each others' backs and grandchildren do the same for their grandparents.

There is a sense of modesty and privacy even in communal bathing. A
washcloth placed just so, the dip of a shoulder, a body lowered beneath the
surface, a mother turning her child's face back to their own washing. Not
everyone is built like Ichiro or Miss Japan either. Scars, abnormalities, and the
effects of gravity and time are taken in stride. Indeed, they are a natural part of life.

Living in Japan over many years, my husband and I have enjoyed both public baths
sento) and hot springs (onsen). Thus, it seemed fitting to celebrate our 30th
wedding anniversary in hot water. We chose Iwanoyu Onsen in Nagano.
We boarded the Shinkansen bullet train at Tokyo Station with comfortable velour
seats and large windows. Mount Fuji comes into view, majestic and snow-capped.
Rice paddies abut concrete apartment houses, and eventually give way to the red,
gray, and blue tiled roofs of rural Japan.

Snacking on our eki-ben (the ubiquitous railway boxed lunch), we arrive at Nagano
station one hour and 19 minutes later. A 20-minute ($60) cab ride leaves us at the
entrance to Iwanoyu. There hangs a vertical wooden sign with the philosophy of the inn, ''a place with treasured spaces and a relaxed atmosphere evokes your childhood home.''

A long bamboo fence lashed with deep brown twine frames the entrance. Pass
through the sectioned curtain and step onto a bridge over a rushing stream. Enter
the foyer and women clad in deep blue kimonos welcome you with gracious bows
and greetings in the most formal Japanese manner. We are ushered into a sitting
area that opens onto a garden with a pond. Green tea and a single Japanese sweet on earthenware are served to refresh us from the journey. This signals that the food at Iwanoyu will be as memorable as the waters.

Our senses are piqued: sandalwood incense tickles our noses, sweet red bean
paste plays on our tongues, the sound of cicadas buzzes in our ears, elegant carp
swim before our eyes. Soon our bodies will be immersed in the velvety waters of Iwanoyu.

Built in 1959 and later refurbished, Iwanoyu combines early-20th-century Art
Nouveau appointments and traditional Japanese design. We pass verandas
suspended over bamboo groves furnished with comfortable chairs just right for an
afternoon's respite. We remove our shoes upon entering our room and will not put
them on again until leaving the inn.

The large, sunny tatami-mat room has a low wooden table, a television, and a
formal tokonoma shelf where a flower arrangement and hanging scroll stand.
Adjoining the room is an alcove with love seats and sliding windows overlooking
the forest.

Our hostess showed us the yukata (cotton kimono), haori (short house jacket), tabi (socks), and zori (woven slippers) - all the clothing we would need for our stay and
worn everywhere. The staff lays out beautiful Japanese bedding (futon) on the
tatami each night. The pillows are filled with buckwheat kernels and the quilts are
sumptuous.

Iwanoyu's natural spring is in a cave. Men and women use separate entrances to
airy bathing rooms where they wash separately. They place their yukata in baskets
and pick up small rectangular towels for scrubbing and larger wrap-around towels
for use later in co-ed baths in the cave.

In this bathing area, steam is rising from a large pool situated next to sliding doors
that open onto a little garden with a ston de lantern and a bamboo waterspout. A
bank of low spigots lines two walls. On a cedar stool, bucket in hand, you set to
the business of washing yourself. The cool of the air meets the heat of the pool, and the mist floats around you.

Once cleansed, you slip into the clear water for an initial soak. Warmed and ready,
you wrap yourself in a towel and enter the cave to the co-ed area. The lighting is
low and the atmosphere warm. You step over a stone bank into a thigh-deep
underground field of lukewarm water.

Friends and perfect strangers glide together through a labyrinth of natural stone walls and man-made structures. One hand on the top of the towel, the other
holding the wall, you steady yourself and find a spot to submerge and sit - on a
rock or under a waterfall. We found a secluded waterfall that produced a relaxing
cascade, massaging head and shoulders. The water moved over our bodies at the whim of an unseen source deep in the mountain.

The moderate temperature and mineral composition of the water allow you to sit
for hours without shriveling. The innkeepers explain that the water is good for the
skin, and helps relieve arthritis and high blood pressure.

We return to the separate dressing areas. Dry, squeaky clean, and very relaxed,
we meet in the outdoor corridor and enjoy a cup of tea on a wooden bench.

Iwanoyu is known as much for its food as for its baths. The chef and his
apprentices combine textures and flavors with creative subtlety. Local mountain
greens and river fish are used profusely. As food in Japan is served in small
amounts with multiple dishes, an eight-course meal does not overwhelm. A
personalized handwritten menu (in Japanese on delicate paper) was presented with
each meal.

Among the most memorable dishes were the young river trout, roasted on
applewood spears and served on stalks of bamboo leaves. Tender beef was
served on a stone so hot to be still searing it. Seasoned young bamboo shoots and fiddleheads were served in a hollow bamboo stalk. Plum wine sorbet prepared us for lacy tempura vegetables served on Japanese paper. Three plump grapes and a thin slice of translucent watermelon accompanied a swoosh of green tea ice cream
for dessert. Each course was a delight.

We were served at a low table in a private tatami dining room where a lantern, its
light diffused, hung outside the open window. The day's soak, some sake, and an
exquisite meal all melted together.

Breakfast was just as delicious and beautiful. We chose between Japanese and
Western-style meals. The Japanese breakfast included miso soup, roasted fish,
salad, hot buckwheat cereal, and pickles. Breakfast and dinner are included in the
price of your stay. Alcohol is extra.

If you don't speak Japanese, don't worry; the Iwanoyu staff knows some English
and wants you to feel welcome. When we booked the reservation, my husband
was asked his height so that an appropriate-sized kimono and futon could be
provided.

At approximately $200 per person per night plus a service charge and tax,
Iwanoyu is not inexpensive. But it is no more than the cost of dinner alone at a
fashionable Tokyo restaurant. There are no hidden costs and tips are not
customary in Japan.

Disneyesque spa park

HAKONE, Japan - Is nothing sacred? Even a deep tradition like attending hot springs resorts is fair game in the quest to grab the attention, changing tastes, and yen of the Japanese seeking leisure.

Self-described as a Mediterranean-style spa theme park, Yunessun, associated with Kowakien Hotel in Hakone, a White Mountains-like area in the shadow of Mount Fuji, provides a different experience from the hot springs in Nagano. It is not necessary to stay at the hotel to attend the spa, and is an easy day trip from Tokyo. Here you enjoy natural hot springs in a variety of Disneyesque spaces - Turkish palaces, water slides, Roman spas, as well as sake, coffee, and green tea baths. Bathing suits are required in these areas. There are also traditional Japanese outdoor baths (rotemburo), enjoyed in the buff and segregated by sex. Weather is never a factor.

From Shinjuku Station my Japanese friends and I took the red and white Romance train - more expensive than local rail - to Hakone Yumoto. The train has large picture windows and speeds through suburbs into the countryside. Once again, Fuji's silhouette is in full view. In one hour and 20 minutes we arrived at the station. From the station, either take a bus, which stops at Kawakien, or a taxi for under $25.

Helpful sales clerks explain your options in this multiplex-like compound. Bathing suits, loungewear, and towels are all part of the deluxe package. My friends and I chose the traditional bath. Ticket prices vary depending upon your choice.

We received bar-coded wristbands upon entering. As at any tourist attraction, we had to go through a huge gift shop before getting to the main area. It was raining but my friends said, ''Debbie-san, that is part of the experience. It makes it more beautiful.'' And so it did. We stow our clothes and, wearing only our wristbands, we carry a strategically placed 1-by-2-foot towel into the baths. Floor-to-ceiling glass doors open to the garden, with its many outdoor baths.

Amidst groups of chattering women, we spend time having a wash and then head outside to the cool air, where steam rises above the water. Mountains with low-lying clouds are visible in the distance. The paths lead to stone pools of natural spring-fed water - cool, hot, very hot, and super-hot.

Lowering ourselves into the heat until the water hit our chins, we were embraced by water above and below. Meticulously groomed pine boughs formed a multi-tiered backdrop, as if painted on a golden Japanese screen. Bathers turn to each other to murmur ''Doesn't this feel wonderful?'' What an understatement! Pains, stress, anger - whatever ails one - seep out of the body.

You rise when your temperature does, and dip into one of the cooler pools. Rain slinks down a roof downspout, and you watch drops join the pool around you.

Back in the locker room, you don Yunessun's version of Iwanoyu's cotton kimono, a lime green tie-dye lounging pajama issued at the door. Same concept, with an updated look.

Two electric paws knead the knots out of you in the over-sized massage chair. Masseuses are also available.

At first my friends were skeptical, thinking we were in for a tacky time - Hakone can be very commercial - but they ended up being impressed. Young couples, extended families, groups of twentysomethings, and gaggles of seniors all were thoroughly enjoying themselves.

IF YOU GO

How to get there

Most major carriers have a daily flight to Japan, with one stop, out of Logan
Airport. Airfares checked with Travelocity.com and several airlines range from
$950-$1,230 round trip. Prices are lower in off-season, mid-January through
March.

With a bilingual Japanese staff, Boston International Travel specializes in trips to
Japan. It can arrange international interior travel and hotel reservations. It quotes
fares as low as $600 round trip, depending on season and availability.
617-713-0070

There are many ways to travel from Narita International Airport to downtown
Tokyo. The least expensive is Friendly Airport Limousine, a bus stopping at
downtown hotels for about $28. You can then take a taxi to your final destination.

Iwanoyu
026 245 2453; fax 026 248 0047
Susaka City,Nagano, Japan

From Tokyo Station take the Shinkansen (Bullet Train) to Nagano Station.
Round-trip reserved seat is about $150. Purchase tickets at the station or Japan
Travel Bureau outlet near any big hotel. Staff often speak English. The ''Green Car''
is more expensive; larger seats with more leg room, but unnecessary.

There is a bus from Nagano station that stops in front of Iwanoyu. We took a taxi
for about $56. One night's stay including breakfast and dinner ranges from
$180-$330, plus service and tax, per night, per person. Prices are lower for children.

Yunessun
Kowakien Hotel
Hakone, Japan
0460 (2) 4111

Deluxe package $38 adults, $19 children. Theme park baths $32 adults, $16
children. Outdoor bath $17 adults, $8 children.

From Shinjuku Station take the Romance Car on the Odakyu-line to Hakone
Yumoto. Reserved seats about $50 round trip. Taxi from station to Kowakien, $25.

Note: Train and subway travel in Japan is wonderful. Tokyo's massive subway
system is clean, punctual, and you can get yourself anywhere. This multi-tentacled
system can be confusing, even for the Japanese. But people who don't speak
Japanese do fine. The subway maps are available in English. Station personnel
often know some English, and there is almost always some one willing to help a
lost-looking foreigner and even escort you to the appropriate platform.

Satisfy sweet tooth with juicy watermelon

2002-08-08T11:36:00.001-04:00

This is high season for the most refreshing fruit ever cultivated: watermelon. According to the National Watermelon Promotion Board, cultivation probably started about 5,000 years ago in Egypt. A member of the squash family, watermelon is said to have come to the United States through Africa during the slave trade in the mid-1600s. Florida, California, and Texas are the leading states in watermelon production, and there are hundreds of varieties. Internationally, China is the major grower, followed by Turkey and Iran.

Watermelon, as you may have surmised, is 90 percent water and contains the largest amount of lycopene of any fresh fruit or vegetable. Lycopene gives the red color to fruits, like tomatoes, grapefruits, and guavas, and indicates a great source of Vitamins A and C. Two cups of watermelon have only 80 calories, 25 percent of the recommended daily allowance of Vitamin C, 20 percent of the recommended daily intake of Vitamin A, and more than a cup of water. That's not bad for quenching your thirst, satisfying your sweet tooth, and meeting a few dietary needs at the same time.

Tony Casieri, produce manager at Wilson Farms in Lexington for 17 years, says the best way to tell if a watermelon is good is to ''cut it open and look for that dark red color.''

''The sweetest watermelons are small to medium, between 5 and 12 pounds,'' he says. ''You know the world is shrinking and fruits and vegetables are available year round, but July and August are definitely associated with watermelon season, especially on the East Coast. They are awesome now.''

Scott Wilson, fourth generation at Wilson's, likes to tap on the watermelon: ''If you get that nice hollow sound, you can be pretty sure it's ripe.'' He says his tapping technique is not 100 percent accurate, but he seems to have a good track record, as he is the buyer for the melons. ''We are getting the Banner brand out of Texas right now,'' says Wilson.

If you don't trust your sense of sound (and you can't smell a watermelon for ripeness the way you can a cantaloupe), look on the bottom of the melon for a light yellow patch. This is where the melonsits on the ground, and it's a good indicator of ripeness. Unlike many other fruits, watermelon does not continue to ripen after it's been picked. In the off-season, Wilson's gets watermelons from Mexico and Central America.

Sales of seedless watermelons far surpass sales of the seeded variety. Says Casieri, ''I sell four or five seedless to one with seeds.'' A search in several markets for a watermelon with seeds yielded not a single one.

Some readers may remember those seed-spitting contests they had as kids, sitting on the stoop on a steaming day. While watermelon juice dripped down your neck, the pits lined up inside your mouth while your tongue formed a funnel and readied to launch them farther than anyone else could. One can't do that with those pale white, flimsy seeds. ''A few old timers feel the seeded melonstaste better, but that is not really the case,'' says Wilson. ''There are a lot of other factors.''

Watermelon is grown in many countries around the world, and is highly prized in some. In Japan, for example, watermelon is not considered picnic fare. Instead, it is given often as a gift, a very expensive gift. The suika, watermelon in Japanese, is presented cradled among shreds of shimmery cellophane in a box, or incased in protective netting and then beautifully wrapped. The recipient knows this melon costs a bundle, anywhere from $30 to $100. When served, it is often a single small slice on a chilled plate to be eaten with a fork - not exactly a chin-dripping encounter.

All parts of the watermelon are edible. Watermelon pickles are made from the rind, and seeds can be baked and salted. The Mexicans also drink watermelon juice, calling it aguas frescas. It's watermelon pulp blended and mixed with cold water and ice cubes. Some even salt their watermelon and say that it enhances the flavor. Casieri and Wilson's favorite way to eat watermelon? ''A big huge slice,'' they both say.

There are many ways to enjoy this beautiful and thirst-quenching fruit. Let children scoop out little rounds with a melon baller. Place some ice cubes in individual bowls, top with melon balls and a spritz of lime juice, refrigerate for 15 minutes before serving, and garnish with a sprig of mint.

Also try this watermelon sorbet. It's quick and easy and can be made with or without an ice cream maker.

Watermelon sorbet

3 cups watermelon, seedless or seeded
one-third cup superfine sugar
2 teaspoons lemon juice

1. Mix all the ingredients in a food processor or blender.
2. Place mixture in an ice cream maker and process according to instructions until it holds together.
Remove sorbet to a container and place in the freezer.
3. Eat within a few days.
4. To make granita (a crushed ice dessert): Take the above mixture from the processor or blender and place in a shallow, rectangular glass dish and place dish in the freezer. Every 30 minutes, rake a fork through the mixture to break up the ice. It should become a slush-like consistency after 2 hours that is ready to enjoy.

Watermelon rind pickles

4 cups watermelon rind
1/4 cup salt
1 1/4 cups cider vinegar
1 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon whole cloves
1 stick cinnamon

1. Peel the green skin from the rind, remove any pink pulp from the rind, and cut rind into 2-inch by 1-inch strips. Place strips in a pot.
2. Pour boiling water over the rinds to cover and simmer for about 5 minutes. Drain and cool.
3. Mix salt with 2 cups cold water. Place the rinds in a bowl and cover with the salted water. Let stand at room temperature for 4 hours.
4. Drain and rinse in cold water several times.
5. Mix vinegar, sugar, and half a cup of water in pot. Simmer until sugar dissolves.
6. Tie the cloves and cinnamon stick in a piece of cheesecloth and place it in the pot with the rinds.
Simmer until the rinds are soft and somewhat translucent. Discard spice bag.
7. Let rinds cool in the liquid before putting it all in a glass jar. Keep chilled in refrigerator.

Adapted from Fanny Farmer Cookbook

On hot day, cold noodle dish goes down easy

2002-07-27T11:34:00.001-04:00

It's really summer now - too hot to eat, too hot to cook.
You need something easy to make and digest.
It should be appetizing, cooling, and nutritious.

In many Asian countries, noodles are considered a snack food
or a light meal. In summer, they are served cold, often with a tangy
dressing.

In Japan, noodles are a noisy food. Enter a noodle a shop, and you
hear no one talking. Instead, you are greeted by the loud
rhythmic slurping of noodles being sucked down. Silence while
eating noodles in Japan is definitely not cool. The louder the better.
It signals kudos to the chef.

Asian noodle restaurants are often devoted to a
particular type of noodle, like Ramen (Chinese noodle
soup) or Soba (buckwheat noodles). Soup stocks and
noodle dough recipes are closely guarded secrets. If you
want to see a very funny movie about eating noodles
Japanese style, rent ''Tampopo'' (Dandelion), directed by
Juzo Itami. Your next bowl of noodles will never be the
same.

To Americans, pasta means a white, flour-based noodle,
but there are myriad noodles to choose from that can
make a meal interesting. You don't have to go to an
Asian restaurant to enjoy the more exotic noodle dishes,
either; the noodles are available at Asian grocers and
even local supermarkets. Top them with cold, left-over
meat or poultry, shrimp, eggs, or vegetables with a light
dressing and you have a one-dish, nutritionally balanced
meal.

Chinese egg noodles can be eaten cold or hot. Fresh
noodles come in 1- or 2-pound nests, and are found in
the refrigerator section in Asian groceries. Buy more
than you need and freeze some for future use. Cook
briefly, drain, and cool with cold water to make a cold
noodle dish. Drizzle on some sesame oil to keep the
noodles from clumping as they wait to be dressed.
These noodles can also be found in dried form; they look
like compressed rectangles. They will need to be
reconstituted with water. Follow the directions on the
package (presumably in English).

A large variety of cellophane noodles are imported from
many Asian and South Asian countries. All are dried and
must be soaked in hot water, and, in some cases,
cooked briefly in boiling water until they become
transparent. Once softened and drained, they are ready
for use in any number of dishes. Cellophane noodles are
made from a variety of starches like rice flour, alimentary
paste, and yam root. (Technically, some are not called
noodles, but filaments.) Never mind what they are made
of, they provide a great background for toppings, and
absorb a tangy dressing to produce a truly refreshing
experience.

The grand champion of noodles, though, is soba. Made
from a combination of wheat and buckwheat flour, soba
is light brown, has a subtle, sweet, and nutty flavor, and
is very nutritious. High in fiber, protein, and vitamins B
and P, soba is also known to help lower cholesterol and
blood pressure and helps the liver process alcohol. This
last fact is one reason that soba is such a popular
late-night snack in Japan after an evening of drinking with
friends.

It is amazing that soba isn't more popular in the United
States yet. Fresh soba noodles are a rare treat here, but
are found dried in all Asian markets, Trader Joe's, and
Bread and Circus. Traditionally, they are packaged with
multiple single-serving bundles. The noodles are
wrapped with a paper band that is removed before
cooking. The dried noodles are dropped into boiling
water and cooked for 5-7 minutes. Drain, then rinse if
serving cold. A chewy texture (al dente) is best.

Kyoko Wada and her daughter, Akiko, moved to
Massachusetts from Japan several years ago.

''Japan is so hot in the summer, you usually don't feel like
eating,'' says Kyoko.

''I don't have an appetite,'' echoes Akiko, ''but I like to
eat cold noodles in the summer. They look really good
and feel so cool when they go down your throat.''

Kyoko serves the noodles on glass plates or in glass
bowls with ice cubes.

''The appearance is very important and I choose cool
color plates like blue and green to serve food on,'' she
says. She reminds us of the Japanese saying that we
eat with our eyes.

The accompanying recipes use three kinds of noodles.
Served on a large platter, the noodles will look
spectacular on a picnic buffet table. For a family meal,
make individual servings. Experiment on a few sultry
summer days; slurping is not required. Still, what a great
excuse to make noise!

Yard sale cycle can spin out of control

2002-07-13T11:32:00.001-04:00

What do a bread machine, electric wok, heart-shaped waffle maker, Tater Twister, and avocado-green fondue pot have in common?

They all seemed like a good idea at the time! A wedding present? Spur-of-the-moment buy? Mother's Day (Father's Day) present? What was your excuse? Whatever the reason, these contraptions that ended up hidden in the back of a cabinet often show up in your spring yard sale. Just as often, they're at the new owner's yard sale, with the same dust and neon-colored price tag, the following spring.

Spring cleaning vows, ultimatums from a significant other, or resolutions to get rid of clutter are made in the depths of February. The result is old clothes, games, aging sports equipment, baby strollers, dishes, and kitchen appliances regurgitated onto sidewalks and driveways for the world to see - and, we hope, purchase.

Like moths to a flame, cruising cars slow to a crawl as signs scream ''GIANT MULTI-FAMILY YARD SALE'' at every other street corner. Who can resist the possibility of a great find? I spot one. Not quite sure what it is from the curb, I park. Aha. another must-have, a Tater Twister. The little dot says $2. I'm not even going to try to bargain.

''How do you use this?''
Blank stare.
''Got the instruction booklet?''
Laughter.
Can't be that hard to figure out. Somehow or other you stick in a potato and this lethally sharp disc turns something whole (hopefully not your fingers) into curlicues.
''Why did you originally purchase this,'' I ask?
''Seemed like a good idea at the time. I thought they would look nice on a plate,'' says the seller.
The Tater Twister joins the growing mound of items in the car.

What am I going to say to my husband? ''Part of the research, hon.'' He's an academic. He'll understand.

The research continues at the home of Ginny Tavilla of Lexington. ''Downsizing after 35 years,'' says her sign. ''At last year's yard sale, I had a bread machine,'' she recalled. ''I tried using it five times and gave up. I also had an electric griddle. You need another house for all this. One of my daughters worked for a home shopping network and she would give me all these gifts. Guess what?'' Tavilla's arm makes a sweeping arc over the tables piled with unopened boxes.

Onward. The Lexington High Lacrosse Team's yard sale looks promising. Ooh, a never-been-used, three-tiered, Oster electric steamer. Now that is intriguing. Again, there are no instructions, but the pictures of various foods and a timer on the front make this a no-brainer.

''We think this might have been a wedding gift for the history teacher,'' says the coach's wife. ''I have one. It cooks a whole meal without using any pots. Chicken breasts on the bottom, potatoes in the middle, and broccoli on top.''

Now I have one, too, for six bucks! I ask, ''What's this tong-like tool with a cupped slotted basket used for? It's the third time it's turned up at a yard sale today.'' The lacrosse moms all gather. We examine and guess, but no one knows. For 25 cents and a good cause, I'll figure it out later. The very next day in the mail, a catalog with kitchen gadgets appears. There it is on page 20: ''The Perfect Slicer! For the right slice every time!'' Pictures show perfect rounds of tomatoes and onions. I was meant to have this.

Lexingtonian Dick Howe is selling his home, and among the many items in his driveway are a Nordic Track and a little wok. ''Those two things are prime examples of good intentions gone awry,'' says Howe. Asked if he ever used the wok, Howe pauses, pulls in his breath, and says, ''You know, I'm not sure.''

The mega yard sale at Roxbury Latin School in West Roxbury is a bonanza. Tables of popcorn makers, pressure cookers, food choppers, two bread machines, an original fondue pot, sandwich maker, waffle irons, woks, coffee makers, a brand new giant food chopper, a clay garlic baker, stacks of dishes - whoopee! Fifty-five dollars later, I have a Breadman Plus, heart waffle iron, electric wok, the garlic baker, a sandwich maker, a Le Creuset pot, and a real 1970s avocado-green fondue set. Such a deal.

Somewhere along the line I also acquire a brand-new, in-the-box, Blooming Onion cutter with its bright red ''As Seen On TV'' label beckoning to me along with other necessities like a spaghetti measure, toast rack, and wire cheese slicer.

The mumbled promise to my husband not to keep anything (my toes were crossed) was slipping away. Images of freshly baked pumpernickel bread made with my Breadman Plus, served with tomatoes cut using my Perfect Slicer, with a side of curly Cajun potatoes from the Tater Twister, an appetizer of a deep-fried blooming onion, and for dessert, symmetrical orange sections executed with my As-Seen-On-TV Citrus Express, were dancing in my head. What a feast. This would wow him and weaken his resolve.

Everything actually works, which is a bad thing because I don't want to give up anything. Oh, all right, I can live without the toast rack and the Citrus Express. The serrated blade nearly sliced open my palm anyway.

So, hang in and wait for the appliance du jour to be next year's nifty yard sale find. Ice cream makers are big this year.

Note: Don't be dissuaded from buying an appliance because there is no instruction booklet. I went online to the Breadman Company, got their customer service number, called, and they sent along a copy of the Owners Manual and Recipe booklet for free.

Smooth and sweet, pudding's a treat

2002-06-06T11:30:00.001-04:00

Mmmmm, pudding. Creamy, sweet, and smooth. Soothing, simple, and easy to digest. No wonder pudding is often a child's first dessert, or a sweet offering when we're ill. Often it's the first thing a child learns to cook.

Puddings are soft desserts usually boiled, baked, or steamed. They are often made with milk, a thickener, egg, tapioca or cornstarch, and flavorings like vanilla, chocolate, and butterscotch. Rice, corn, and coconut are a few of the ingredients added to enhance the simple and make it sublime.

Dessert pudding can come from a box, or a plastic container in the refrigerator section of the market. However, like most things, when deconstructed to its ingredient list of sugar, cornstarch, and flavorings, it really is quite easy to make from scratch and is just a matter of using correct proportions. Homemade also can be more healthy.

Like many dishes that use heat and a thickener, this pot has to be watched. Thirty seconds and 5 degrees can make the difference between a creamy concoction or something resembling cement. Pudding thickens as it cools, so be careful not to overcook.

Rice pudding, which can send one swooning back to childhood, is little more than rice, milk, and sometimes eggs. Do you like yours with or without raisins? Soft or really firm? Most cultures have their own dessert pudding, with the same tug of nostalgia. Raj Verma, 27, comes from the Punjab region in northern India. He serves kheer, the aromatic Indian rice pudding, at his restaurant, Bollywood, on Massachusetts Avenue in East Lexington. It is the most popular dessert on the menu and Verma gives everyone a taste even if they don't order it. Basmati rice, whole milk, cardamom, and a dash of rose water makes this pudding delightfully different.

''We had a few cows on our land and we would get the milk fresh, warm, and thicker than what you have here,'' Verma recalled. ''Kheer was served very cold to give us some relief from the heat of the day as well as the heat of the food. When we had scratchy throats or colds, my mom served this to us.''

Mention tapioca (from the root of the cassava plant) and some people will search for Fido, ready to slip him a bowl of those translucent ''fish eyes'' under the table. Tapioca can be the base for desserts, a thickener for pies. Like tofu, it absorbs the flavors it is mixed with. Also like tofu, you have to be a fan of the slippery consistency. Elsa Tian emigrated from Indonesia 36 years ago and remembers tapioca puddings made with coconut milk.

''We had the tapioca pudding at tea time served at room temperature,'' she said. ''They used to soak the tapioca pearls overnight to soften before cooking.'' Tian still makes the dessert, but finds the quick-cooking tapioca in the box perfectly acceptable.

Stores that carry Asian foods often carry the tapioca pearls in bags. About half the recipes researched recently called for soaking the pearls overnight. The soaked tapioca is then cooked in water until translucent and takes much less time to get to this stage.

Pudding as a snack adds some calcium to your diet. Served in a footed cup, it is an easy but elegant finish to a dinner party, or a cooling end to a spicy meal. It's made all the more special with a garnish of whipped cream, chocolate shavings, or a sprinkling of pistachios. Serve with a crispy wafer-like cookie and dessert is done.

Old-fashioned chocolate pudding

These recipes use whole milk as it gives a richer flavor. You can substitute low fat milk

2 cups whole milk or 1 cup milk and 1 cup half and half
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/3 cup cornstarch
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla

1. Mix cornstarch, sugar, cocoa and salt together in a bowl.
2. Pour milk into a pot over medium heat. Add cocoa mixture and stir constantly until bubbles appear around the edge.
3. Lower heat to a simmer and stir pudding until thick. Add vanilla.
4. Pour into four dishes. Chill and serve with whipped cream and chocolate shavings or jimmies.

For butterscotch pudding, omit chocolate and substitute brown sugar for white sugar. Add 2 tablespoons butter and the vanilla after pot has been removed from heat.

For vanilla: Omit chocolate and add vanilla after pot has been removed from heat.

Kheer: Indian rice pudding

1 cup basmati rice
2 cups water
8 cups milk (whole milk gives creamiest results)
1/2 cup heavy cream
2-3 green cardamom pods, seeds only
3/4 cup sugar
chopped pistachios for garnish
a few drops rose water (optional)

1. Cook rice in water until done.
2. Heat milk until it boils. Turn to medium heat.
3. Break open green cardamom pods and remove the seeds.
4. Add cooked rice, cream, sugar, and cardamom seeds to hot milk.
5. Continue cooking and stirring until the mixture thickens to the consistency of thick soup, about 5-8 minutes.
6. Serve in individual bowls. Garnish with chopped, unsalted, green pistachios. A drop or two of rosewater is traditional and adds fragrance and flavor.

Adapted from Raj Verma's Bollywood Cafe recipe

Indonesian mango strawberry tapioca pearl dessert

1/3 cup pureed mango
1/3 cup pureed strawberry
3 tablespoons quick-cooking tapioca
1/3 cup sugar
21/2 cups water (or 1 cup milk and 11/2 cups coconut milk)

1. Place tapioca, water, and sugar in a pot and let stand for 5 minutes.
2. Cook on medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture comes to a full boil. Remove from heat.
3. Divide into two mixing bowls. Let cool for 10 minutes.
4. Add the strawberry puree to one bowl and the mango puree to the other. Mix well.
5. Put a layer of mango tapioca in each of four bowls. Top with a layer of strawberry tapioca.
6. Serve with a dollop of coconut cream (the coconut cream is the thick layer on top of the coconut milk when you open the can).

Adapted from Martin Yan's Asia, Rainbow Tapioca

Tembleque: Puerto Rican coconut pudding

1 cup milk
1 cup half and half
2 cups sweetened coconut shreds
1-11/2 cups coconut milk
1/3 cup cornstarch
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon (optional)

1. Heat milk and half and half until bubbles just begin to form. Remove from heat.
2. Add coconut and let sit for 15 minutes.
3. Place milk and coconut mixture in blender or food processor and pulse for 30 seconds.
4. Place a strainer over a bowl and pour mixture into the strainer. Press on remaining coconut to release as much liquid as possible.
5. Measure strained liquid into a pot; add coconut milk and heat on medium.
6. Dissolve the cornstarch in one-third cup milk and whisk into hot mixture.
7. Add salt and stir until mixture thickens. Lower heat and stir an additional five minutes. Turn off heat and add cinnamon if desired.
8. Divide among four bowls and garnish with toasted coconut (made by placing three tablespoons shredded coconut in a dry frying pan and heating just until coconut turns brown.)

Adapted from ''How to Cook Everything''
by Mark Bittman

There'll always be room for gelatin

2002-02-14T11:25:00.001-05:00

Admit it. You miss those old Jello-O salads. Remember the desserts? Mini-marshmallows, Cool Whip, nuts, and pineapple suspended in luminescent layers of primary colors like prehistoric species in amber. Open the fridge and the multi-layered form comes to life when the reverberation of the door sends it quivering. Cherry-flavored Jell-0 with banana slices. Tuna aspics on the buffet tables of the '50s. Molded gelatin salads of every conceivable variation at potlucks.

Making gelatin used to be a complicated and lengthy process. In the 1850s, Peter Cooper, benefactor of The Cooper Union, New York's famous art, engineering, and architecture school, patented the first gelatin dessert. In 1897, the Jell-O brand was introduced by Pearl Wait as a fruit-flavored version, sporting strawberry, orange, lemon, and raspberry flavors. Charles Knox developed granulated unflavored gelatin around 1900.

Gelled desserts and aspics rapidly became popular among housewives when electric refrigerators swept into American households. Using gelatin was considered economical and healthy. It performed culinary gymnastics as a food extender and by morphing from salad to dessert in a single bound. It was the perfect segue from labor-intensive layer cakes to quick and easy desserts.

In the 1950s, Jell-O added new flavors; grape, black cherry, and black raspberry, and fruity gelatin went from being a food stretcher to an elegant addition to a party or church supper. Holiday dinners featured at least one Jell-O salad with alternating pastel and translucent layers. Every cookbook from a church or synagogue or school has pages devoted to dishes with names like Merry Cherry Salad and Rainbow Delight.

Roger Petersen, political science professor at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, recalls his parents reminiscing about Jell-O after the death of his grandmother. Petersen grew up in rural Iowa, where most farms used electricity only for lighting homes. ''Richer farmsteads could afford refrigeration as well, and would serve Jell-O as a treat,'' he recalls. ''Being able to serve Jell-O was a status symbol. The only way to have a gelatin dessert before that was to leave it out on the porch during the winter.'' A personal favorite from his mother's church cookbook is Seafoam Salad, made with lime Jell-O, canned pears, cream cheese, and Dream Whip.

As is true of sausage, one may not want to know how gelatin is made. A call to the Jell-O consumer service line run by Kraft Foods confirmed that. The representative said Jell-O brand gelatin was made not from the hooves and horns of animals but from their hides. Then he said something about collagen, acid, and percentages, which is when the ''need to know'' factor shut down and ignorance seemed a better option. Peterson said Sioux City, Iowa, one of America's meatpacking centers, also had one of the largest gelatin factories.

If you are a vegetarian, neither Knox gelatin nor packaged gelatin desserts should be on your list. There is a product called Agar made solely from seaweed, which has the properties necessary to congeal, is unflavored, and does not smell fishy. Hain makes a SuperFruits Dessert Mix that is vegetarian, Kosher, made with natural flavors and natural color, and tastes good. Bread and Circus carries both.

Any liquid, such as juice, or semi-solid can be made to set. One packet, or 1 tablespoon, of gelatin solidifies two cups of liquid or semi-solids. If you plan to add pieces of fruit or nuts, cut the liquid by one quarter. Sour cream and cream cheese are popular additions and take the place of some liquid. If you are looking to lower fat content, substitute yogurt cheese. You won't be able to tell the difference.

When using a mold, it's important to moisten with water or a nonstick spray before adding the gelatin mixture. A quick dip in a bowl of warm water and a prayer might help before flipping it onto a platter. Moisten the plate before unmolding, as you might miss the center and then could slide the gelatin into perfect position.

Today, Valentine's Day, try this adaptation of the classic French cheese dessert coeur a la creme (heart of cream). This version uses unflavored gelatin and is lower in fat and lighter than the original, which calls for heavy cream, sour cream, and cream cheese. It is traditionally made in a special ceramic heart mold and wrapped in cheesecloth to allow the whey to drain. You can use any mold for this one. Served with a strawberry sauce made from frozen berries, this is elegant, healthy, easy, and you won't be eating your heart out over this delicious treat.

Coeur a la Creme

1/3 cup cold water
1 1/2 packets unflavored gelatin
2-3 tablespoons boiling water
8 ounces farmers cheese (try Friends brand in the dairy section)
1 cup light cream cheese
1 cup nonfat yogurt cheese
1/2 cup light cream
1/2 cup sugar
several whole strawberries

1. Place 1/3 cup cold water in a small bowl. Sprinkle gelatin on the water, and let sit five minutes. Add 2-3 tablespoons of boiling water to mixture, and mix until gelatin is completely dissolved.
2. Place farmer's cheese, light cream cheese, yogurt cheese, and light cream in a
mixing bowl. Beat on low for 1 minute.
3. Add sugar and beat again until smooth.
4. Stir in gelatin mixture. Pour into a heart-shaped mold, and chill until set, about 3
hours. Unmold on platter, and decorate with whole strawberries.
5. To Serve: Cut heart into sections and spoon strawberry sauce over the dessert.

NOTE: Making your own yogurt cheese is easy. Inexpensive, reusable strainers are available in kitchen stores, such as the package of two for $3.59 at Kitchen etc. You also can use strong paper coffee filters. Place 11/2 cups yogurt in the strainer set over a container with enough space on the bottom to allow the liquid to drain. Place in fridge for 5 hours, or overnight. The liquid whey will drain and leave a thick yogurt cheese, thus reducing the volume. It is a great base for spreads and dips. Yogurt cheese also is available in most Middle Eastern grocery stores.

Strawberry Sauce

1 10 oz. package frozen strawberries (or raspberries)
1/4-1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice
2 tablespoons kirsch or maraschino liqueur, optional

Place all sauce ingredients in a blender or food processor, and mix until blended. Chill until ready to serve.

Spicy tomato aspic

Serve with seeded crackers or French bread, cucumbers, fresh basil, and light
mayonnaise on a bed of lettuce. This is a refreshing and low-calorie salad or spread.

1 cup water
2 packets gelatin
3 cups Bloody Mary cocktail mix or V-8
2 tablespoons lemon juice

1. In a bowl, sprinkle gelatin over 1/2 cup of cold water.
2. In a small pot, heat tomato juice and the remaining 1/2 cup water.
3. Add the softened gelatin, and stir until completely dissolved.
4. Remove from heat, and stir in the lemon juice.
5. Pour into prepared mold. Chill until set.

Creamy Orangesicles
(Reprinted with permission from the National Dairy Council)
This recipe also makes delightful smoothies. Place two frozen servings in the blender with a half-cup of lowfat milk. Try making it using other fruit-flavored gelatin.

1 package orange gelatin powder
3/4 cup lowfat milk
1 eight-ounce container vanilla yogurt
1/2 cup boiling water

1. Place gelatin mix in a medium-size bowl. Add boiling water. Stir until gelatin mix is
completely dissolved.
2. After mixture cools slightly, add milk and yogurt. Stir until all ingredients are
blended.
3. Spoon into freezer-pop molds or 5-ounce paper cups. If using paper cups, cover
with foil and insert a wooden pop stick. Freeze for several hours until firm.

Lemon and Lime Gelatin Dessert

You can't compare the pure taste of this fruit dessert with the artificially flavored.
Any juice can be made into a gelatin dessert.

1 packet unflavored gelatin
1/2 cup sugar
11/2 cups boiling water
1/4 cup cold water
Juice from 1 lemon and 1 lime

1. In a bowl, sprinkle gelatin on 1/4 cup cold water.
2. Add boiling water, and mix until dissolved.
3. Add lemon and lime juices and sugar. Mix until liquid is clear.
4. Pour into 4 serving cups. Decorate each with a slice of lemon and lime, and a
sliver of skin from each.
5. Chill until set, about 4 hours.