Comfort Foods and Indulgences

We made these for a crowd and watched them vanish in five minutes…My husband and I do not need brownies; we’ve eaten enough of them already to meet our lifetime quota and to account for certain body changes that I will not describe here. But Tom is a hopeless chocoholic, so on the occasions when I make brownies to curry favor with my kids’ friends, I have to keep an eye on them.

For a long time, when brownies disappeared from the cooling rack and my husband seemed the obvious perpetrator, he would issue a denial and look meaningfully in the direction of Oliver, our dog. So I thought the golden retriever was both amazingly athletic (how did he reach the brownies I placed behind the kitchen sink?) and had a remarkable tolerance for chocolate, a substance that is notorious for making dogs ill.

But then, on a recent occasion, I left a hot brownie batch on the counter to cool and took Oliver for a walk. When I returned and noticed that the baking pan was half empty, I did a breathalizer test on napping Tom. Sure enough: chocolate breath. (And a messy crime scene: brown crumbs on the sofa.)

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.

Who doesn't love crispy fried shrimp?  It's such a quick and easy meal to throw together.  I always keep a bag of frozen shrimp in my freezer, which makes serving this that much simpler. 

We are definitely shrimp lovers in our household, I know I've said that before.  What I like about using cornmeal is the coating doesn't become too thick and you can actually taste the shrimp and the seasoning as opposed to a mouthful of breading.  My kids really appreciate this.

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.