Comfort Foods and Indulgences

I live in a great neighborhood. Westfield Century City Mall and Westwood Village are both walking distance. Walgreen’s and Coffee Bean and Tealeaf are too.  There’s even a stellar newsstand adjacent to Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf. That being said I could count the times I’ve actually walked there on both hands and I’ve lived there for 27 years.  Ahem.

The thing is, when it’s a neighborhood business, you’re liable to stumble upon it and think you discovered it. But no, I just happened to live up the street from the best caviar store in town.

The Bel Air Caviar Merchant’s storefront looks more like a Psychic Reading parlor than the premier caviar supplier for the Westside. I’d say it’s a well kept secret, but its really not.  People stake out their orders and wait patiently on folded chairs in a makeshift lobby. Business is done behind a screen.

The refrigerator is suffering from in-between celebration emptiness. A lonely cabbage sits there with a nice head of garlic, a elderly chunk of fontina and some grated parm. And yet it’s enough to create a world of comfort because I have a package of Pizzoccheri purchased several weeks ago.

Prounounced Peets-OH-keri, they are short tagliatelle shaped noodles made of 80% buckwheat and 20% wheat flours. I bought my bag of Pizzoccheri from Roan Mills at the Farmers Market so they are a bit more rustic (more buck and whole-wheaty) than the traditional pasta. The dish comes from the Valtellina, one of the most northern regions in Italy, a place where they understand the comforting combo of greens and cheese during cold weather.

Think of Pizzoccheri as a super northern version of a pasta al forno or baked pasta, but instead of the ziti with red sauce and mozzarella you have the aforementioned buck-wheaty pasta with cabbage and or green chard , diced potato, (I add caramelized onion) and sage all enriched with fontina and parmesan. It’s a big old cheesy mess of goodness.

I’m a firm believer in the adage that a tiny plot can feed a whole lot! Granddaddy’s tomatoes keep rolling in and BLT’s, pies, sauce, and simply sliced dishes of tomatoes are abounding on our tables.

Mimi, as is her custom, has toast and tea every morning for breakfast..... as her grandmother did. Sourdough buttered and toasted and glazed with a seasonal spread is de rigueur. Taking the tone from the toast in the iron skillet and the tomatoes on the windowsill (Mimi and Granddaddy always have tomatoes on their windowsills May through October), the cultures of Italy and Deep Down Dixie merge for a delicious starter, meal or snack that we’ve thoroughly enjoyed this summer. The addition of an over easy egg gives a huevos rancheros nod to the dish and a dose of protein too. ¡Olé!'!

As a fan of breakfast for supper, this dish is at home to kick off the day or cap the day or really anytime in between. Taking literally a few minutes to prepare, you’ll love the way the egg yolk nods along with the tomato and basil sing-a-long. The crusty sourdough toast soaks up all it can and give you an excuse to use your hands to scrape the last bit with the crust. Leave off the egg for a traditional bruschetta that is nothing shy of divine.

I live my life according to these Four Culinary Truths:

1.  Nothing is better than food shared with friends.
2.  Know where your food comes from.
3.  Slow down, pay attention and enjoy the moment.
4.  Anything Swimming In Mayo Is A Salad. 

While I earnestly try to live by items 1 through 3 I must admit just a little facetiousness with the last little entry. But I do marvel at those bowls of creamy offerings presented from coast to coast. You know what I’m talking about: Potato Salad (bound in mayo), Salad Olivier (bound in mayo), Lobster Salad (bound in mayo), I could go on. No, really, I could go on. Because I just happen to love things held together with mayonnaise. Probably a bit too much. And therein lies a problem: I live inside a constant battlezone where salads swimming in mayonnaise call my name every single second of the day. Even if it’s only in my head.

For the record there is nothing wrong with mayonnaise. There is nothing bad with jars of mayo nor handmade creations. There is pure delight in dipping vegetables in it and adding it to spreads and sandwiches. I will never be a Mayo Hater. I’m more of a Mayo Lover Who Has Learned To Control The Urge To Add It To Everything.