Sicilian cooking: Bracciole

There are many recipes for these meat rolls called bracciole, but almost all of them are Italian. Sicilian cooking is heavily influenced by west Asian and northern African cooking. Most Sicilians will tell you they are not Italian (and indeed we are not). But I will not get into the politics today, just the cuisine. I am also not going to get into the tomato sauce (which might require several blogs) or the pasta.

There also won't be any exact amounts listed in the recipe, because I don't use them. I learned by watching my mother who learned from my grandfather. He was a true Sicilian who fought the Italian army when he was in Italy and fought the Mafia when he was in the US. Both subjects for future blogs.

Bracciole:
2 lbs. round steak, carefully trimmed of fat and sliced into thin sheets
Handful or more of pignoli (pine nuts)
Handful of golden raisins
Chopped fresh herbs: I like basil, parsley, and marjoram
2-3 cloves garlic, crushed
ground black pepper
salt




Lay the slices of meat on a cutting board and cover with the garlic, salt, pepper, herbs, nuts and raisins. Some people like to add more, it's good to experiment.

Italian bracciole emphasizes more cheese and larger amounts of herbs. The African/Mediterranean influence here can be seen in the nuts and raisins.




The tricky part comes next and that is rolling up the meat and tying it with kitchen string. Then take the bracciole and put them in a cast iron frying pan that has been coated with good olive oil. Using medium heat brown the bracciole on all sides. If the heat is too high, the oil will smoke; if too low, the juices will come out of the meat. You don't need to cook them all the way through, just enough to brown the meat and sear in the juices. Turn them so they are browned on all sides.




Your next step is to add a very good quality tomato sauce and simmer for 2-3 hours. You want the meat to be very tender, but not so tender that it is falling away from the string.


Gently remove each bracciola from the sauce, let it cool a bit, and carefully remove the string. Return to the sauce. Serve with pasta.

 A good red wine is always welcome.

On children and guns

I had a child once who moved to my small city from Detroit. I asked him what he liked best about his new home. He said he got to sleep in a bed, not the bathtub. In Detroit his mother put him and his sisters to bed in the bathtub, the better to protect them from stray bullets which periodically crashed into their ground floor flat. 

She had also put plywood over the windows. 

There were no night lights as lights attract attention. 

He told me he no longer worried about his mother and sisters. 

He played chess very well.

When somebody breaks your heart

I walk everyday for my health, my doctor tells me to, sometimes I take my camera, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I end up thinking of small moments that I have saved in my mind very clearly and sharply and I don't even know why.

When I was in the 7th and 8th grade I had a science teacher, his name was Ken Williams, that is his real name. He was a great teacher. This was one of the questions on his test (and you had to explain your answer):  is the Earth heavier, lighter, or about the same as it was when the dinosaurs were on earth? Ok, that sounds pretty simple, except we had just had a unit on how very heavy dinosaurs were and how big, the size of buildings and 1959 Cadillac Sedan DeVilles.  So it was a stumper for me until I gave it a bit of thought.

Not as much of a stumper though as when his friend, my math teacher, told us to (for extra credit) draw a triangle with two 90º angles. I did not get that one.  No one did.  But at least we were thinking.

So anyway, back to the point of this blog. I was sick (as in I could convince my mother I was sick) a lot and missed a fair amount of school.  The moments of real learning and stimulation were far outnumbered by the hours of sheer tedium.  I would rather stay home and read.

One afternoon, sometime on a warm Indiana May day, I was staying after school to make up a test I had missed in Mr. Williams' class. I was the only kid in the room and was working away.  Mr. Williams had opened the windows and was watering his many carefully labeled plants. I guess he forgot I was there and he started to softly sing to himself.  This is the song, maybe some of you remember it. "I want to be around, to pick up the pieces, when somebody breaks your heart. Somebody twice as smart, as me..."

He had a great voice, that was a little surprising. It was silky and clear and carried the melody over the plants and desks, the chalk and papers. I stopped writing and just listened to him. And here I am now, 50 years later, and I can still hear that voice. Tony Bennett sang the song and Frank Sinatra, but nobody sang it as sweetly as Ken Williams did that day.

My Mom and the Tornado

 

I think one of the hardest things about being a mother are the choices you have to make when your children are in danger.

This is a picture from 1961, a few weeks before or after the tornado. I'm on the left, my brother Joe on the right, the baby in the middle. Actually she was a bit older than 2 but we called her the baby.  The tiger was the tiger.

And I look older than 11, so I'm not sure. Anyway. My brother and I went to the same school and walked home the same route with all the other baby boomer kids. But never together. How uncool would that have been?

That day the wind was kicking up and it was raining; nowadays kids are held at school while there is a storm or tornado watch or warning. But that day someone made the decision to let us out and we all walked home. It was no longer raining nor even windy. It was dead calm in fact. I was carrying a wooden checkerboard, can't remember why.  Everything was normal until I heard some screaming and looked back behind me.

None of us saw the twister, we never did. We just saw a huge black cloud. The tornado picked up the freshly tilled black midwest dirt and churned it around.  Just like that day turned to night, calm turned to chaos.

I don't know how my brother and I found each other. We grabbed hold and ran for home.  Part of our path went through "the woods" where the trees were slashing back and forth. When we came out of the woods, nothing looked familiar and the other kids were gone. The wind was still blowing and it was raining very hard. I looked at myself - I was black, covered in dirt. I thought an atomic bomb had gone off. We kept running. Like Hansel and Gretel lost in the woods, we held hands and kept running.

It was so dark. At home my Mom had a terrible choice. She could go out and search for us, but she'd have to take the baby out in the storm. Or she could leave the baby alone. Or she could huddle in the middle of the house and cry and pray. I don't know what must have been going through her mind.

When we saw the house, we recognized it. Outside of branches down it was there and unharmed. We ran through the door and my mother started screaming in agony and joy.  It was a cry I can still hear today, as she clutched us and said, "Are you ok?" "You're not hurt?" and "I love you, I love you". "I wanted to look for you." We said, "We're ok, we love you, Mom". We cried and hugged.

Eventually things quieted, both weather-wise and in the house. Tornadoes are fast moving storms and it was over with little harm done in our neighborhood. The sun even came out. My Dad came home and absurdly we went looking for the checkerboard and found it unscathed.

So Happy Mother's Day, Mom, wherever you are. You went through a lot of anguish that day and I am just realizing that. I'd like to think you are somewhere nice, maybe on a beach, with a glass of champagne. God knows you deserve it. I know you do.

Tramp the Dirt Down

Not a blog about Margaret Thatcher.

My mother, about 45 years ago. An old polaroid. When this was taken she had just been given permission to drive.  Before that my father did all the driving which gave him a certain amount of control.

My reaction upon hearing of his death this morning was roughly the same as that of many Britons upon hearing of the death of Thatcher.  You may be thinking to write that you are sorry, but it's ok. I'm not sorry. I'm not running around singing, but I am not sorry. I am at peace; I have been at peace for a long time.

The last time my mother recognized me, before Alzheimer's completely took her away, she gave me a gift. She told me to save myself.  From him. And I did.

Grand Opening Jackalope Bar and Grill

On lovely Manasota Key, Florida.

I have decided to open a disreputable establishment to pay off my pirate ransom and also allow me to stay here in Florida. Dedicated to the great American Jackalope, aka, Killer Bunny, I will be serving up good times, rum, other drinks, some food, and general debauchery. There will be (somewhat cramped) quarters for those who wish to sleep it off. I will need help, please let me know if you feel you are qualified for any of the following positions:

* Serving wench

* Bartender

* Photographer (to aid in blackmail schemes)

* Bouncer (will be needed only in extreme cases)

* Know-it-all

* Food prep person

* Fisher (to get the food)

* Guard animal(s)

* Musicians

* Constabulary briber (see photographer above)

* More as it occurs to me

The pay will be low but benefits excellent. Manchester United and City fans may be seated closest to the TV. Swords, truncheons, firearms, golf clubs, light sabers and the like must be left at the door.

There is a distinct possibility you may be carried away by pirates, no helping that.

All animals welcome and celebrated.

No dress code.

Apply below.

What it would take to bring me back to the Catholic church

Or, a number of things that won't happen.

1. The Pope tells Obama to stop drone and other attacks on civilians and makes participation in drone attacks a mortal sin.

2. The Pope urges the prosecution of Presidents Cheney and Bush on war crimes for their initiation of the Gulf Wars.

3. The Pope begins the sell-off of the Church's vast holdings and uses the proceeds to feed and house the poor.

4. The Pope denies Communion to any politician in the US and elsewhere who takes bread from the mouths of the hungry and shelter from the homeless. Paul Ryan is immediately excommunicated as an example.

5. The Pope acknowledges that sexual desire is natural and good and that humans can find moral expression of this desire in any way they choose between consenting adults. Masturbation is acknowledged as a nearly universal and healthy phenomenon.

6. Vows of celibacy among priests are abolished; the priesthood is transformed to include both men and women, straight people and gay people.

7. Masses of Confession and Contrition are regularly said for the Church's transgressions in abusing children sexually. Survivors are encouraged to speak out if they wish and restitution is made.

8. The whole anti-birth control/abortion thing stops now.

9. The Pope declares healthcare to be a human right. Bishops and Cardinals in countries that do not offer healthcare are urged to work for it, including denying Communion to those politicians opposing it.

10.  The Catholic Church shall consider itself in a state of sin until the people of Haiti are delivered from their misery.

I was raised Catholic. Even after I came to doubt the existence of god, I still enjoyed the rituals and mythology of the Church, the chanting and incense, the majesty of the cathedral where I sometimes still attended mass. 

For a time, I accepted the term "fallen away Catholic". But I didn't fall away, I walked away. It was a conscious choice. And when I looked back, what I saw, in an institution that I once admired, appalled me. That was years ago.

The Church beckons to ex-Catholics like me, to reconciliation and reunion. But the Church is not about to change and it is no longer relevant in my life except as an unfulfilled potential for good. 

That stuff up there seems pretty harsh, or maybe not. It is what I have thought for many years. On this day of the election of Pope Francis the 1st, I thought I would post it.  

Nitrogen footprint

We are all joined by water.

Last night I went to a presentation at a local community center about the waterway I live on here in Florida. 

I thought it was man-made which is partly true, but the presenter showed us an aerial shot taken in 1948 with numbers of large ponds which were joined together by dredging. So now there is one big body of water snaking through the development. Partially natural, partially man-made. There are lots of birds, turtles and alligators living in "The Ponds" as they are called.

Problem is, they are sick. You might be able to see how green the water is in the foreground. 

                                  

Or here. This is me, sitting on our dock, with the sun behind me. The water is green because of algae. All water has some algae and some algae is good for fish. Too much algae is called a "bloom" and takes so much oxygen out of the water that the fish die. So do the birds and other animals that live on fish.

Our part of Florida has many strict laws about how often you can water your lawn and, particularly, how much nitrogen-based fertilizer you can use. These laws are sometimes resented by people who want a lush green lawn (grass) like we have up north. There is a feeling among some that the County has no right to say what you can and cannot do on your own property.

Except that the nitrogen you use on your own property runs off into the storm drains and eventually makes its way into The Ponds where it feeds the algae and impacts everyone in the watershed.

Really, grass is not for Florida. The types that people want do not do well in our current drought and in

 our sandy soil.

This is a bushy sort of plant, native to the area, which needs no fertilizer or watering. You might not want a whole yard of it, but it looks nicer than brown grass. It's a good alternative.

                                     

My other neighbor has this ground cover, pretty and green. In Michigan it is called a weed, but here people grow it in place of grass.

                                           

Finally, because I am sure everyone is tired of the eco-lesson, having bushes which grow at the water's edge, absorb excess nutrients and "scrub" the water. Their roots grow deep and hold the soil in place as well as providing a nesting area for all sorts of creatures. 

I love this stuff.  In Florida we live in the Lemon Bay watershed. In Michigan we live in the Looking Glass River watershed. If I hadn't have been a social worker, I might have been a botanist. 

Red tide and the Tub of Death

Florida seems to have more things than Michigan that are hostile to people. Take Spider Drop Park. That's not its real name but it is the name I have given it since there is a sign in this small park that says "Warning: spiders in trees". I was going to explore that park but as soon as I saw that sign, I was persuaded not to. I assume all trees have spiders, so if the trees in that park have so many spiders that it merits a sign, that's enough for me. Worse than Leech Lake, which is a lake in Minnesota.

Then there is whatever bit me today 3 times on the foot and I didn't even get to squash it because I didn't see it.

Then there is the Red Tide, also and more correctly known as an "algal bloom", which is not like a flower, but a naturally occurring mass of algae in the warm water of the Gulf of Mexico. This fall, apparently, it was bad, and killed off a bunch of fish, leaving the local papers to print - not a word, not a single word. At least not that we read, and Tom has taken to reading the papers down here online when we are in Michigan. 

The Red Tide has dissipated, mostly, the water is not red, there is no smell and no dead fish, but there is a certain irritant in the air that makes me cough a bit when I am at the beach. Actually there were a number of people coughing at the beach. It's not harmful unless you are a clam, and better than snow, but still.  

Finally, we have the aqua tub. I put myself in the picture because I am a little vain. It's a beautiful tub in a beautiful house but the bottom is very very slippery.  I figured that out after one shower and went and got one of those suction cup bathmats. That made it a bit better, but, a couple or three days ago, getting out of the tub, I hit the edge of the bathmat, dislodged it, slipped, and wrenched my back grabbing the hand-hold thing. So now my back hurts, not so bad that I can't go to the beach, but for a few days, bad enough that I couldn't put dishes in the dishwasher. And poor Tom had to do it.

So that's it, those of you that live in the South doubtless know of other dangerous things, like ticks, fleas, alligators, and Buford burgers.

A Walk on Manasota Key

Manasota Key is a barrier island 7 miles long and, in places, less than half a mile wide. It is jungly but more desert than rain forest due to the sand. The northern tip is developed, but the southern part is fairly wild and perfect for a weekend walk. 

Palm trees die and lie in the sand and new growth sprouts up.

I don't know if you can see this little crab which is heading toward the seaweed for a meal.

A pen shell.

I liked this yellow shell. The sand is dark due to ground fossils - old bones of animals who lived here when this area was a savannah. Later it was reclaimed by the sea and so we have many whale bones and fossilized shark teeth here.

A place to stop for lunch.

This lady is showing one way to look for shark teeth, which is to scoop up sand and shells and shake the scoop until you find teeth.

Or, you can just look in piles of shells. Can you see the tooth here? It is grey and pointing down.

I found this hole in one of the rocks on the shore. The rocks are brought in to prevent shore erosion. I took about 25 pics to try and get this one the way I wanted, but I just couldn't. If you look through the hole, you can see the ocean. Sometimes waves come through.

Some people capture the beauty of this place by painting. I think this woman is doing a nice job. 

Thank you for walking with me. 

Birds, beaches, blackberries

I've been busy

Plump blackberries were on sale today so I got a pint and took them to the beach. We've had a few busy days. This weekend, the owners of this lovely house came by and we got to meet them. They have been sailing and living on their boat for over 2 years. They have decided to sell the boat and live in this house, starting when we leave. I was happy for them, but sad for us. 

Right away I started to look for other houses for next year and quickly found that "pet friendly" in online realtor ads often does not mean "cat friendly". And people are booking already for 2015. Yikes. I got a little freaked out, but our trusty and wonderful agent, Janet, found us a house very near here and it is cat friendly. 

In the meantime Honey, the timid cat, has become bold. She found a place on the screened patio where the screen was loose and she was halfway out when I noticed her. You know in Florida there are few ground mammals and no outdoor cats if you live near any water. Our neighbors tell me there are at least 2 alligators that live in the inlet pond our houses are on. With every telling the alligators get bigger; now they are up to 16 feet with razor teeth and infrared vision. I think these gentlemen are pulling my leg a bit. Still, Honey would be a tasty treat for any alligator, so I scooped her up, and that was the end of that. Tom and I fixed the screen, but when she goes out with us, she'll be leashed.  

  

Today I did the shopping, signed papers for the next year's rental, got the recycle bins sorted, did the laundry and headed to the beach with my blackberries.  Took some pictures. The top picture is a flock of little birds and the bottom picture is pelicans perching in a tree. I never knew pelicans perched in trees.

I guess that is it except you can't swing a dead cat around here without hitting someone from New York or New England taking a picture to "send to the kids back home". Or Ontario, lots of folks from Canada here. I'm tempted to take one of those pictures myself. 

Honey the cat goes to Florida

Accompanied by her faithful humans. . .

It was very cold when we left Michigan, everything covered in snow. My nerves were not eased by the fact that that morning on the news the apartment complex where our housesitter lives had been engulfed in flames overnight. I was worried about my housesitter and couldn't reach her to see if she was ok. Eventually I did and she was fine.

Honey sat on my lap and the pilot gave her a friendly scratch. She was calmer than I expected and I did not even give her the sedative my vet had prescribed.

It was a long time but a short time and we were flying over the beach I call my own. I'm having a hard time describing how I felt recognizing familiar places from the air. I was close to crying.

The rest of that day and the next was not so joyous. Renting a car and being introduced to Florida's bizarre "no fault" insurance laws which, apparently, require no one to have auto insurance and make you responsible for their damage even if they cause the crash. 

Then we discovered we had no internet, although I have to say the rental agency reps worked with us patiently until at last (and thank you Angie at Comcast) we were hooked up.

Then, finally, we were in Florida. Florida which is like a warm and loving mother with lemon scented arms. The air is silk, the birds are everywhere, and I found my orchid which I left behind last year in the same spot, a bit neglected, but with a bud. It could bloom again. I would be ecstatic. I also found some fresh catnip at Lowe's and planted it for Honey.

Walking into the produce department at the store, I was in tears again. There are so many scents: tomatoes, peppers, melons, coconut, roses, limes. I have never been in a produce department in Michigan that smells so good. 

And Key lime pie.

 

On one of these days, we stopped at the Venice Beach for a hot dog. . . 

And I dipped my feet in the ocean.

Thank you for reading, you are very kind.  I am lucky beyond description to be able to do this, and owe many people, not the least of whom is Tom's mother, who showed us the way.

Come fly with me we'll fly we'll fly away. . .

As I started to make plans to get us all (spouse and cat, bag and baggage) to Florida, I kept hitting bump after bump. Our house to Lansing, Michigan, then Lansing to Orlando (one of the world's busiest airports) then rental car to Venice, a 3 hour drive. And only 2 days a week, so if one day was snowed out we would have to wait three days. OR bus to Detroit, then to Sarasota, then drive to Venice, about an hour. OR fly to Detroit. And airplanes are not too thrilled about animals on board; we had a hard time booking any cheap seats. Plus car rentals are up to $250 a month more expensive when you pick them up at airports. Cats have to have vet certificates and must be under the seat. And even more hassles I will not bore you with. I was not going to drag a sick husband and freaked-out cat and luggage through strange and chaotic airports with the chance of getting stuck somewhere due to snow.

On a hunch I called this guy that operates a small charter service and sure enough lots of people fly from Michigan to Florida and he flies them. In a group it is not much more expensive than commercial, plus no groping airport inspectors, the ability to hold Honey on our laps (as long as she is leashed), and right from a small town near here straight to Venice. Talked to the pilot just today. All systems are go. The plane is bigger than the one above, by the way. If it snows, we just take off when the weather is good. This outfit flies all over and has a good reputation.

OMG I hope this works out.