One of the things that my husband missed the most when we moved 6,000 miles away from his family in Italy was his mamma's famous Torta di Mele (apple cake). Each time we came home for a visit, the house was filled with the sweet aroma of his beloved apple cake. It was the most requested dessert for gatherings with family and friends. There is a story of Stefano coming home from school as a child and eating the whole cake in one sitting. He was just cutting a little piece at a time. Each time he cut a piece from the rectangular pan he felt the need to go back and even out the crooked row...until it was suddenly gone. He explains that his mom must put some sort of addicting drug in it because once he gets started on it, it's impossible to stop. As you will see, the ingredients are quite simple. I have spent years trying to replicate Nonna's Torta di Mele with limited success. While my attempts were certainly edible, there was never a comparison to Nonna's. Even when I used the exact same ingredients and followed her steps to the "t", it never turned out like hers. It's now been about 4 years since Alzheimer's robbed her of the ability to remember. Being housebound during a pandemic gave me time to do more cooking and testing of recipes. I made a challenge with myself that I would perfect Nonna's Torta di Mele by June 2nd, Stefano's birthday. So, in April I started experimenting. Since I couldn't find my written directions anywhere, I just experimented with the quantities of the ingredients. Too cakey, not enough sugar, too greasy, too flat, too fluffy, not enough apples. With each iteration, Stefano pointed out where it went wrong, but also that I was getting closer each time. Don't get me wrong, the cakes must not have been that bad since he gobbled them all up!!! The ultimate goal was to replicate his mamma's cake. He resigned himself to the reality that we would probably never be able to replicate it, but we could make our own version that would still be good. The week before Stefano's birthday, I was on Pinterest looking at recipes and one caught my eye. The photo looked almost exactly like Nonna's cake. I studied the recipe and made a couple adjustments based upon what I remembered from Nonna teaching me. Bingo! It was the closest that I had gotten and Stefano was convinced that I had hit the mark as close as I could! By the time his birthday rolled around the following week, I made one more tweak and nailed it. He now claims that my cake is better than his mamma's. Somehow that is hard to believe, but I'll take it for the win. There is no greater gift that I could have given him than the food memories from his mamma and his childhood. I know that she would be proud of me for carrying on her tradition and making her boy happy. I hope that you enjoy it as much as he does! Creatively, Cathy
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While the purpose of food is to provide the body with energy to carry out the functions in life, I think that the role that food plays in life does just as much to nourish the soul. The taste or smell of a food can bring back distant memories and feelings of comfort (or disgust) all the way back to childhood. To this day, when my mom makes potato salad it reminds me of time with my grandma. A certain broccoli casserole will always make me think of my dad and some funny memories over the holidays. The smell of chocolate chip cookies (and the taste) give me warm and fuzzy feelings of coming home from school to warm cookies and a glass of cold milk. Due to some childhood trauma with tunafish casserole, the smell of tuna (and really any fish) make me queasy. The point is, food helps us to create long lasting memories. As a child, I was in 4-H and learned how to cook a recipe called Corn Beef Dandy (ground beef, stewed tomatoes, corn, and cheddar cheese). I was a Corn Beef Dandy expert and relished in the occasional opportunity to prepare my dish for the family (to my siblings' dismay). When I left for college, I added rice pilaf and macaroni and cheese to my list. Once I left dorm life, my apartment cooking was limited to those staples and supplemented mostly by Quarter Pounders with Cheese from McDonald's. When I took my summer study abroad trip to Florence, Italy during college, my taste buds were suddenly jump-started. During those few summer months I gained a new perspective on food. Sure, the pizza, pasta, and gelato eclipsed any that I had ever tasted back home, but I came to realize that there was more to it than that. Food was always part of social experience and the way food was used was nothing short of artistic. I ended up marrying an Italian boy that I met on that trip. For over 35 years, I have been blessed to learn about food from my in-laws. In my husband's family, cooking is an art form. They don't see it that way. To them, it's the norm. Food and mealtimes are special...tutti i giorni (every day). Quite often the aroma of espresso at breakfast intermingled with the likes of garlic, basil, rosemary, and tomatoes as Mamma created pranzo (lunch). It was amazing to watch how my in-laws took the simplest and sometimes most unexpected ingredients and turned them into a masterpiece. Mamma was a true artist in her cucina (kitchen) and expressed her creativity and love in the form of food. My father-in-law did the same by toiling in his expansive orto (garden), growing most of their fruits and vegetables himself...and even raising chickens and rabbits from time to time. Our children spent most summers of their childhood hanging out with their Nonni (grandparents) in the kitchen and the garden. They hold treasured memories that are so often brought back to life with the food we share. Over the years, I have expanded my cooking repertoire, much to the relief of my husband. Our first years of marriage were tough on him. Let's say that he does not have many fond food memories of our early years together. Over the years, I have been able to mimic or adapt much of what Nonna taught me about cooking. She spoke so fondly of her grandmother who taught her the recipes that she never wrote down. She just knew how to work with food like an artist knows how to glide a paintbrush across the canvas. Sadly, Nonno is now gone and Nonna is 90 and suffering with Alzheimer's. Her culinary specialties are at risk of being lost. I am taking advantage of this time that I have had at home during the pandemic to attempt to re-create some of her recipes. I decided that this blog would be a great way to document these recipes so that our kids can carry on the food memories that their Italian grandparents helped them create. Maybe these recipes will even inspire someone to create some new food memories for their families. I think Nonna would like that. |
About CathyI'm a wife, mother, friend, educator, traveler, creator, tech lover, (and much more) inspired by Brene Brown's call to being vulnerable and daring greatly. Archives
September 2020
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