Comfort Foods and Indulgences

I bake and make desserts all winter. It might be something to do with cocooning or comfort or simply loving desserts, but this winter especially I have been baking up a storm. To change it up a bit, I made a pillowy-soft cloud of star anise scented espresso custard and piled it on top of crisp Italian lady fingers. A spoonful alone transported me to Italy…….to a little cafe where I stood at the bar and spooned anise froth into my mouth from an espresso cappuccino.

So simple. So wonderful.

It starts with steeping anise seeds and star anise in milk. You add egg yolks and sugar to begin making the custard. Whip cream till stiff, fold it in, and there you have it.

It was luscious. Light. Frothy. And less expensive than a plane ticket to Milan, a car drive to Turin, and a memory to remember where that wonderful little cafe actually was.

The greatest thing to come out of Buffalo, NY is their wings.

Buffalo wings are chicken wings and drummettes that are fried without breading and then coated in a vinegar based sauce typically comprised of melted butter and hot sauce. They're served with a cool, tangy blue cheese dressing for dipping and some crisp celery sticks.

Buffalo wings are the ideal party food guest: they get along well with others like pizza and nachos, and they're best buds with cold beer. So they've got to be part of your Super Bowl party line-up, even if you're making different wings like my Maple-Beer-Chili Chicken Wings (which you really, really should). They're too self-confident to be intimated by other wings at the party.

How is it we crave food we've never even tasted?  I've never been to Chicago and I've never eaten one of their hot dogs, but I knew I had to have one. 

There are many hot dog purists out there and lots of opinions on how hot dogs should be served and constructed.  I say, if you like it, then that's the way to serve it. 

People love to connect over simple foods like this and who doesn't love a hot dog at the ball park during the summertime?

I had to try a Chicago-style dog because I wanted to taste the sweetness of the relish with the sourness of the peppers and the sprinkle of celery salt that is supposed to bring all the flavors together.  So yesterday we braved the cold and the snow and fired up the grill.

Tortellini has been a part of our family’s Christmas day repast since our kids were … well, since they were kids. We used to make tortellini in brodo, a Northern Italian Christmas tradition. I would make a chicken, beef-bone and vegetable broth on Christmas Eve and then on the day we’d all pitch in to make sheets of fresh pasta and a meaty, cheesy, herby filling out of which we’d fashion hundreds of little belly-button-shaped beauties to float in the rich steaming broth. At the table we’d grate Parmigiano over the top and count our holiday blessings.

One year instead of broth I served the tortellini in a bolognese sauce and it was such a hit we haven’t been back to broth since. I use Marcella Hazan’s classic recipe for the meat sauce and I follow it to the letter because it’s quite perfect. Well, in truth, I add a bit more onion than she calls for. I’m a whore for onions. I tripled the recipe this year because I knew once I tasted it I would want to have more in the fridge for later. This is where the trouble started.

There’s something supremely satisfying about Marcella’s bolognese. Bubbling a cup or two of milk through the meat before adding the tomatoes creams up the sauce and sweetens it. And the five-hour simmer patiently breaks down the components and gives them time to take advantage of each other. It’s a meat sauce to dream about and this year’s version was no exception. The kids and I scarfed down our beefily-sauced tortellini while Jill tucked into her lentils with vegan gusto. Ah, chacon à son goût.