For the last two weeks I have had an intermittent problem with my furnace. I have a wonderful technician, but it was a difficult thing to figure out. Did I mention that it is Winter in Maine and even with a back up heat source it is imperative to solve it and solve it fast. The elusive part arrived this morning and Tony quickly came out yet again to my house. I asked him to come in and have a cup of tea with me as I always do and explain what he did to my furnace. I hoped that he would reassure me that it was fixed once and for all.
He is the kind of guy that insists on taking his boots off so he doesn't make a mess no matter how many times you tell him that it is fine because you have three dogs that always have wet paws. Today I placed a thick cotton rug at the door knowing that would make him feel more comfortable and indeed he came in for tea without any excuses. I poured a nice cup from my morning pot and went to get the banana bread that I had baked yesterday – only I couldn't find it anywhere! I looked everywhere and then decided that I better pick something else to give him before I started looking like I was becoming senile or worse yet, getting a case of cabin dementia.
For Christmas I always make biscotti and I still had an ample supply left. Thank goodness I found something good to go with his tea! I handed him a biscotti and turned my back on him as I prepared his tea when I realized that he had suddenly stopped talking. When I turned around there were tears in his eyes. "Is this really what I think it is?" he said. I replied that the cookie was an Italian biscotti and he said "I am Italian." Hmm, I paused, I didn't realize that. Then he proceeded to tell me that he hadn't had a biscotti since his grandmother made them for him when he was a small child. Tony is in his late 60's, a quiet, methodical, smart man that is known as the geek furnace technician for a large company. As he sipped his tea and nibbled at the cookie he told me his whole family/life story. I sat on my kitchen stool and just listened. He had my full attention. His grandparents came to America from Sicily through Ellis Island just after the first world war. When they arrived here they purchased a large mansion south of Boston though, he said, his grandfather never worked a day in is life. His grandfather's two brothers each went in different directions, one to Long Island and the other to Chicago. They also lived in large mansions and never worked a day in their lives either at least in the traditional sense.
Tony's father had 12 children – Tony being the oldest – and he had a charmed childhood until his father died. No questions were ever asked as to what the family business was, it was an unspoken subject. For weddings and funerals the relatives appeared in their dark silk suits sporting handmade shoes, diamond pinky rings and big new black Cadillacs and always with folded manilla envelope of what appeared to be a stack of money. Still no one asked anything until Tony's father died and he being the oldest son had to make all the arrangements because his mother was so distraught. The three cousins from Chicago showed up and handed the widow a manilla envelope, which she quickly placed in her open pocketbook without even looking up. They told her that was the last envelope that she would be getting as their uncle was dead and "it" was over. Three weeks later the three cousins were gunned down gangland style on the streets of Chicago.
Tony went to the funeral, driving his old beat up Chevy from Boston to Chicago to attend the massive funeral. Just before he was heading back East one of his other cousins asked him if that was his car and he nodded that it was. Why? The cousin said you come to work for me on Monday and I'll have the keys for your new cadillac waiting for you. Tony's heart skipped a beat for he had two kids and a third on the way. This was his break! In the excitement he ran to share the good news with his young bride who just stared at him for a long time. Tony, if you take that job don't ever come home, ever. Well you can guess the rest.
When his story neared the end I told him about our Polish neighbors that have lived next door to us for the last 60 plus years. Our contemporary, Teddy at 19 married a 15 year old Italian girl. After they had their first child 10 months later, her father started visiting with more frequency. He was very interesting, like no one we had ever met before. Big black limo, gold chains and always talking in Italian or Polish like they were telling secrets. Boy, could he cook!
Every kid in the neighbor hung out for all three meals and afternoon snacks. The best proscuitto, salamis, fresh mozzarella, his prize tomatoes and jugs of homemade wine, pickled peppers and did I mention the veal. Oh, the food!! It was a feast every day that he visited as he relaxed the more that he cooked. As children we were awed by this tall man. We never knew his name, it was always Barbara's Father. I would ask my mother questions, but she would pretend like she hadn't heard me. Many years later I found out that he was Al Capone's driver and let's just say he didn't die of old age. It wasn't hard to connect the dots and realize that Tony's family was high up in the Al Capone gang. Funny, all I did was give him a biscotti.
Pistachio Cranberry Biscotti
1 ¾ cup flour
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup dried cranberries
4 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into 1/2 inch pieces
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1½ cups toasted, shelled pistachios
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
Preheat the oven to 350°F and butter or Silpat a large baking sheet. Put the flour, 1 cup of sugar, baking powder and salt into a food processor and pulse just until mixed. Add the dried cranberries and pulse until coarsely chopped. Add the butter and vanilla next and process until the mixture is the texture of coarse meal.
Add the toasted pistachios and the eggs and pulse again until the dough is evenly moistened, about 5 more times. On a floured surface shape the dough into one long log and with your hands flatten the dough until it is an inch and a half in the middle and tapered on the edges. Pour the tablespoon of sugar onto the surface of this large cookie and spread evenly, pushing the sugar into the surface lightly. Transfer the whole cookie onto a buttered or Silpat lined cookie sheet and place onto the middle rack in the 350 degree oven.
Bake for 25 minutes or until it is nicely golden brown and puffed in the center. Remove from the oven and cool for 10 to 15 minutes on a rack. Transfer to a cutting board and with a large sharp knife cut the cookie on a diagonal into 1/2 inch slices. Put the slices onto the baking sheet and place back into the hot oven for 6 or 8 minutes until they are lightly brown and nice and crisp. Watch them carefully!!
These lovely cookies keep for 2 to 3 weeks in an airtight jar.
P.S. Always toast nuts before using them in a recipe to give them a fresh nut taste. Spread nuts out on to a dry cookie sheet, place in a 325 degree oven for 8 to 10 minutes or until you can smell the nuts. Remove from the oven immediately and cool completely before using.
Brenda Athanus runs a small gourmet food shop in Belgrade Lakes, Maine with her sister Tanya called the Green Spot.
The Green Spot
This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.
207.441.9327