Winter Beckons

Blue patterns on snow, and dark shadows.

Afternoon shadows, winter light, and freshly fallen snow.

Frozen pond and snow-covered bush in winter landscape.

Type: Seasons Greetings and Holiday Reunions

I hope so! It was my Christmas gift to myself!

For Holiday Blues, Post-Holiday Blues, and Other Familial Horrors.

Cards from a recent trip to the city.

I'm writing about type again (so soon?!) because I built up a nice collection of examples over the holidays that I've been wanting to post: big, bold white type on a cheerful red package that was a gift I gave myself, a really nice book cover atop a table at the local library, and a couple of cards I picked up on a recent trip to the city to see an old college friend. Good times ;)

Macaroni with Broccoli

unc·tu·ous

Readers know that I primarily cook Italian-American at home, though in the interest of full disclosure, I also eat a lot of Cajun, Creole, Acadian, French Canadian, and classically French foods as well, given my ethnicities with those cultural, genetic preferences. Since I typically cook for Italian-American family when I'm at home because it's food I know they'll enjoy, I often find myself going there as comfort food.

Hit that sh*t with bow ties!

This macaroni dish is a huge hit every time I make it, regardless of the type of pasta I use or the condition of the broccoli, because IT'S THAT GOOD. My grandmother made it first and then taught it to my mom, who made it at home for me, thus making it a type of cooking perfection in my family that's been lovingly honed through time and the changing of hands. I've written about the magical powers of Locatelli Romano before, and though I am no food snob, I must warn you once again before you shop for ingredients: only this type of Romano has the content to withstand frying in high heat in oil well. Also, just like with great music and art, timing is key. 

Big stainless steels mixing bowls make me happy.

The cheese cubes have to be removed right before you think they're brown enough, otherwise you've cooked the cheese all the way through, and they'll become hard while drying on paper towels. They should crunch lightly on the outside and still be creamy on the inside: salty cheesy pillows that are highly addictive foodstuffs. I made extra with this batch to eat while I cooked, otherwise (I've learned from experience) the ratio of cheese to other ingredients may be noticeably thin when it finally hits the table.

A warm bowl of pasta on a cold day = happiness.

After that, it's a breeze. When the water is boiling and the macaroni is cooking (my grandma used ziti, but here I used an open box of Farfalle bow ties), I fried some diced onion in the remaining oil. You can either parboil the broccoli florets, but in the interest of brevity and one pan cooking, I flash-fried the florets with the onions this time. 
  

Yeah, yeah, zoom in on that.

I used a sieved spoon to add just the right amount of macaroni into the bowl with the fried cheese cubes, onions, and broccoli, and I was generous with the seasonings, too: salt, pepper, red pepper flakes, more grated Romano. Some of the reserved pasta water goes in to make it moist, supple, and slightly soupy. A good bowl of pasta should "shine" back happily at you, and mine did. Ah! Fini! It was, dear readers, food magic. My mom, who can be a fussy eater, ate two bowls. So did I ;) Buon appetito.

Sense of Snow

An empty road during a snow storm is a good thing.

We've been vacillating between frigid snow and freezing rain to warm Spring-like days that melt it all away, in a dangerous guessing game of highs and lows that Climate Change Luddites still do not acknowledge as part of the times we live in. 

Snow-covered pavilion.

After a bus ride to the city the day before our last big snowstorm, the driver and I chatted about weather, and he asked me if I liked the snow. I'm Acadian; I love snow in at least twenty different ways for over twenty different reasons, each subtle and unique, but not for traveling long distances on crowded highways, especially commuting to a job that's not worth the price of a life. 

Snow, then freezing rain.

My new friend agreed with me as I wished him safe driving before heading out the bus doors. Snow is beautiful to look at, and it can be hell to drive in, but he, like me, is well-informed about the terrain. It's a fact of life we accept by showing a healthy respect for Mother Nature. Here's some of my views over the past few weeks that's part of a visual diary about having a sense of snow. More to come.