April 21 – April 28, 2024

Monday:                  Escargot 41* Restaurant with Dennis and Annie And Mere and Hoddy (thanks guys for the golf and the company) – Naples, FL

Tuesday:                  Spoon Burgers and Frites (take out from Local Provisions)

Wednesday:          Weeknight Chicken Pot Pie

Thursday:                Dunnings Night

Friday:                      Phil Rosenthal – Billy bought us tickets to see our favorite tv/comedy star. If you do not watch “Somebody Feed Phil” you are missing a great source of joy.

Saturday:                Pizza:  Roasted Fennel and Sausage

Sunday:                   Frick Museum / B’day Brunch at Casbah for Drew

*A spectacular and spectacularly expensive place in shopping plaza!  Here is a link to their website:  Escargot 41: http://escargot41.com/

(Note:  we spent the last part of April in Naples, FL and this is the first post since our return.)

NOTES FROM THE TROPICS

Here is how it goes in Naples, Florida.  I rise at 6:00, perform some ablutions, play Wordle and Spelling Bee,* then do some stretching and push-ups, take my daily meds and vitamins and head out onto what we call the “Avenue” – a 1 mile stretch of 10-foot wide concrete that runs from one end to the other of a private area along the Gulf of Mexico.

*Not only are these games, offered by the NYT, addictive – but if you share them with family and/or friends, they offer a way to touch base every day.  You can gloat, congratulate or simply ask – are you back from Puerto Rico?  Maine?  Timbuktu?

The sun has just risen and most of the walk is still covered by the long shadows of the high-rise condominiums that line the shore between the ‘’Avenue” and the sun.  When I reach the Avenue, which is, for most of its length, maybe 15 feet above sea level, I have to stop and stare. The effect, looking out to sea, is like being in a giant clam shell.  The sky is pearlescent – think of the nacreous sheen of the inside of an oyster shell) – dusky gray with a hint of rose at the horizon, shading into a deep rose, then a lighter rose evolving into a salmon-orange, then fading into white and eventually a sort of blue-white.  The sea is dark blue and rippled at the horizon, scalloped and blue-green a bit closer to shore, then lightening to pale green and ultramarine with calm patches of blinding yellow- white, surrounded and invaded by the wide scallops of ultramarine.

I could have stayed there painting a mental picture of the scene for an hour.  Although, come to think it, that scene would not have lasted for even a quarter-hour.  Once the sun starts to rise it moves more quickly than you would think.  And I am out for exercise as well as gawking, so I’m off on a long, brisk walk.

Most, but by no means all, of the people I see return my Pittsburgh-friendly “good morning.”  There are young people walking briskly or jogging toward me and my contemporaries who sometimes walk briskly, but often hobble or shuffle into view.  I’m listening to Dan Senor’s “Call Me Back” podcast but have to stop it every fifty feet or so, when someone approaches me, since I have forgotten my ‘air pods’ and refuse to pollute other people’s quiet mornings with the noise – though, many people walking toward me seem not to have internalized this lesson.

I will come to know many of these people by sight over the two weeks we are here:  The blonde Amazon who does burpees on the walk and then sprints up and down.  The relentless jogging women.  The off-kilter, tiny old man.  The off-kilter, giant old man.  The gabbling female duos talking non-stop.

By now the sun is well up, the sky has become its normal, daytime, clear baby blue and I head back to the condo, to have a muffin and some coffee and contemplate how to spend my day:  A little Virgil in Latin?  Finish Paul Johnson’s A History of the Jews?  Bleak House?  Golf? Work out in the gym downstairs? Grocery shopping?  Make a reservation for lunch or dinner?  Sit with Beez and catch up on the news?  Beez, meanwhile, has coffee, reads and, when the sun hits the pool descends with a book to claim a chaise, bask and read.

We are lucky clams to be in this special part of Florida.  But we have no cooking to share with you.  In part, that’s because the restaurants in Naples are spectacularly good.  But they are also spectacularly expensive, so we would cook except that the previous tenants of our capacious condo seem to have absconded with everything except large spoons, spatulas and small pots. 

So, we’re going to share with you some of the cooking we’ve done since our return.  But first, about those restaurants in Naples – you really can’t go wrong when you’re spending more per person than most people would spend for a party of four in Pittsburgh.  Money buys good service and great food.  But, if you take my advice, you will order the Tuna Tartare at Miramare and a drink at the rooftop bar at the Bayside.  Both places offer beautiful views of the canals that thread their way through the area and the magnificent homes built along them.  And the bartender at the Bayside, in spite of his warped affection for the New England Patriots is a man of good will and wit and is wicked-smart when it comes to making a martini.  He told me that if I ordered a third martini he could convince me to root for the Patriots.  I replied that there is not enough gin in the U.S., England and the Netherlands combined to convert me.  But, just to be safe, I stopped after my second martini.

Below is what we cooked tow Saturdays ago.  (We have pizza on most Saturdays when we’re at home.  This has led me to look around for different types of pizza and toppings.  Joe Beddia’s boo, Pizza Camp, is a favorite source.)

Roasted Fennel and Sausage Pizza

(adapted from Joe Beddia’s Pizza Camp)

When I say ‘adapted,’ I’m referring to the fact that I always use the pizza dough recipe we’ve developed over the years.  It appears in several previous posts, and you can find it at the bottom of this post. 

Joe Beddia who owns a restaurant in Philadelphia, is a genius with toppings and sauces and roasted fennel is one of the great discoveries of our cooking this year.  It develops a wonderful sweetness from the Sambucca (optional) in this recipe and that, paired with the sausage, creates an irresistible pie.

Timing:                      However long it takes to prepare, roll out and top your dough, plus ten minutes or so to cook and three to rest.

Ingredients:             If using my dough recipe – feeds 4

Pizza Dough – my recipe is at the bottom of the post.

¾ cup or so of my tomato sauce (Mutti Tomato Passata or any good tomato purée, two pinches of salt, ground black pepper and 2 teaspoons of dried oregano or ‘Italian Seasoning’).  Whisk together, taste and adjust.  You’re looking for a bright, light, flavor.

Fresh mozzarella, torn into smallish chunks

Low-moisture shredded mozzarella

Roasted Fennel (recipe below)

Sweet, mild or hot Italian sausage, or a mixture of tow or all three

Kosher salt and Malson Sea Salt

Grated Parmesan or Pecorino

Dried oregano

Extra-Virgin Olive Oil.

1 tablespoon whole fennel seeds

2 ablespoons extra-vigin olive oil

2 shots sambuca

Kosher salt and ground black pepper

Roast the Fennel:

Preheat oven to 450 F.

While the oven is heating, cut or rip off all the fennel frons – the dill-like extensions of the stalks.  Save some of these.

Now cut the stalks from the bulb and cut the bulb into quarters.  Thinly slice the bulb and the stalks.  Beddia suggests using a mandolin, but I like thin, but not paper-thin slices, so I use a knife.

Crush a tablespoon of fennel seeds into a powder using a mortar and pestle (or cheat with a spice grinder). 

In a large bowl, combine the crushed fennel seeds, 2 tablespoons of olive oil, the shots of sambuca, and ground pepper.  Whisk and taste and adjust for salt or pepper.  Now add the sliced fennel and toss to coat thoroughly.  Spread on a sheet pan and roast for about 15 or 20 minutes until coloring nicely.  Chop the fennel fronds and add to the roasted fennel when finished.

Increase the oven temperature to 500 F.

Cook and Break Up the Sausage into bite-sized pieces

Add a little olive oil to a skillet and heat to medium high or a bit less.  Add 1 pound of sausage and brown, breaking up, until cooked through.

Assemble the Pizza:

Lightly oil (olive oil) a large sheet pan – it’s going to hold your pizza.

The oven should be pre-heated to 500 F (this will take a while)

Roll out your pizza dough to desired thickness – we like it fairly thin, but not transparent.  Lift it carefully and place it onto the prepared sheet pan.  Push about ½’ from the edges outward to form a slightly thicker outer circumference.  Brush the rim of the pie with extra-virgin olive oil and sprinkle with crumbled Maldon Sea Salt.

Spread the tomato sauce in swirls across the pizza surface to about ½” from the edge of the pie.  Then top with low-moisture, then fresh mozzarella and then the roasted fennel and sausage.  Sprinkle a pinch more of the Maldon sea salt over the top and bake for about 8 minutes in the oven.  Check the pizza – it probably will not be ready, but take out the pan, turn it around and put it back in the oven for another few minutes, until the crust is browned.

Remove from the oven and transfer to a cutting board.  Sprinkle 3 tablespoons or so of grated parmesan or pecorino on the pie, than sprinkle with a pinch of oregano.  Let sit for 3 minutes.  Slice into pieces and serve.

PIZZA DOUGH

This is easy.  Swear*

*I am quoting from my friend and classmate Jan Sloman who recently e-mailed:  ‘Have you tried Caorunn gin (Scottish)?  It makes the best martini ever. Swear.’

The basic recipe here comes from Lynn Rosetto Kasper – a national treasure – but I’ve tweaked it a bit to produce the pizza we like – thin, with just a little chew.

Timing  – This is important.  You need 2 hours for the dough to rise, another 20 after a bit of kneading and then 15 minutes to roll it out, place in on the pan or stone and let it rest.  You can let the first rise go for up to 4 hours, so you need to make the dough 3 – 5 hours before you plan to serve the pizza.  Note:  there are 24 hour and 2 day doughs that will be ready to use when you get home from work.  None of the ones I’ve tried produce the perfect Neapolitan style this dough does – but they are all good.

Supplies:

This will yield enough dough For 2 medium pizzas  –  you can halve all of the quantities if you want to make just one pizza, BUT YOU CANNOT DOUBLE TO MAKE FOUR because the liquid to dry ratios will drift and your food processor won’t hold all this stuff.  For more than 2 pizzas, just clean out the processor, dry it, and make another batch.

2 Cups All-Purpose flour and a bit more for blooming the yeast and dusting your cutting board
1 Teaspoon Kosher Salt
A good pinch of Sugar
1 rounded Teaspoon of Active Dry Yeast (the Quick Rise works best)
1 Cup of Warm water (let your tap run until it’s hot)
Making the Dough:

Put 2 cups of A-P Flour and the salt into a food processor and pulse to mix.

Into ½ Cup of hot water, stir the yeast, the pinch of sugar and the 2 Teaspoons of Flour.  Let sit for about 8 minutes, until the yeast is nicely bloomed.  If nothing happens, you need to buy new yeast. 

 Pour the yeast mixture into the flour in the processor and then pour in another ½ cup of hot water.

Pulse the processor, briefly, about 10 times and then pulse for 5 seconds straight.  The dough should have come together at this point.  If it has not – if it is crumbly or pebbly, add some water and pulse until it comes together in a ball.  If it’s too sticky when you take it from the processor (sticks in strings to your hands, the side of the processor, etc.), add some more flour. Lightly oil a large bowl, put the dough into it, cover with a tea towel and find a warm, draft-free place for the dough to rise for 2 to 4 hours.  In summer I use an un-insulated coat closet.  In winter, I use the powder room, after turning the heat up to get it warmer (close the door to keep it warm).

After 2-4 hours, take the dough into your floured hands and knead for about 1 minute – it will get a bit glossy.  Place the dough back into the bowl and let it rise for another 20 minutes.