Food Again

Is there such a thing as owning too much fleece? There may be, but, despite appearances to the contrary, I do not believe I have quite reached that point. I am particularly enamored of Horny Toad's versions. I got some of their pants, too, but will have to exchange one pair; their sizing isn't as consistent as one might like, and their pants are more low-rise than I'm used to, so it's taking me some doing figuring out what size to order.

But you want to hear about food, I betcha. First, we did, in fact, make it out to dinner Saturday night, to Francesco's Hole in the Wall (no website), a great little place that opens at 5, does not take reservations, and does not take checks or credit cards. We got there about 10 minutes early and waited in the teeny lobby area until they opened the door; the place was full by 5:15. Friend had fettucini with various bits of seafood and a light tomato sauce, and I had ravioli (eggplant, mushroom, and spinach--three kinds, not all mixed together), topped with a light tomato sauce and fresh mozzarella. Both were spectacular, and Friend shared several bits of scallops with me, knowing as he does that I love them. We generally follow the can't-both-order-the-same-thing rule, and he got dibs on that pasta dish first, else I'd've ordered it--but mine was every bit as good. We also got dessert, but it was pretty disappointing; they don't make their desserts there, apparently (though Friend thinks maybe they used to do so), and my cannoli cake was not good (basic flavorless yellow cake, with quasi-cannoli filling between the layers, topped with a shortening-filled frosting). He had tiramisu, and it was okay, but, based on the bite I had, nothing spectacular. No matter; we had an excellent bottle of wine as well, and, when we got home, champagne and good chocolates, so the disappointment over dessert was erased posthaste.

Yesterday I got to cook again. Friend was busy cleaning his house, which meant I had free rein in the kitchen. I made the dough for the crust of the lemon tart so it could rest a while, and then made some barley soup for lunch, using a Marcella Hazan recipe for inspiration. When I make it again--and I will--I'll cook the pancetta and onions longer and put in a little more fresh rosemary. (For those of you who want to try it, it's the Tuscan barley soup in the Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking.) Friend wasn't sure he'd like it--more of a texture thing than a taste thing, and with regard to the barley--but he did; I suggested he add some venison sausage to it when he reheats it, and I suspect that it will benefit from being leftover, as it will give the flavors more time to meld.

After lunch I tackled the lemon tart. First, I'd forgotten to bring a rolling pin, and Friend doesn't have one, so I had to use a wine bottle wrapped in plastic wrap to roll out the dough. It worked well enough, but I must remember to take one of my many pins over there. Second, you may remember that the day before you slice the lemons thinly and macerate them overnight in sugar. I used honey instead, which worked just fine, but the tart had an unpleasant bitter taste to it that i suspect was from the pith. When I make it again, I'll probably peel the lemons, peel off some of the pith, and then slice the rest of the inside of the lemons. (Alternatively, I may peel the lemons and then blanch the peel.) Because you throw the whole mix in the blender, it won't matter that it isn't sliced, I think. It didn't suck, mind you: probably because of the honey, it took longer to bake, which means the crust got some color to it, and the filling was a lovely golden color. For dinner we had some venison loin, cauliflower with cheese sauce, and half a cheesy monkey bun each; no danger of insufficiently clogged arteries there. And an outstanding bottle of wine. And more chocolate. And champagne. Yes, I did work out today on my way home.