Able now to have confusing conversations about pretty dogs and tuna fish in Spanish, I am also proficient in Italian child talk. Yesterday found me slicing melanzane (eggplant), rolling out pizza dough and watching the basic but profound aglio olio (spaghetti tossed in garlic, chili and olive oil) be made with hawk-like attentiveness. A generous couple we met along the Camino have opened up their restaurant and sun-drenched apartment to us in exchange for a bit of work before departing Spain for our final week in Paris. My hands and senses are all too happy to accept this invitation. My gratitude surpasses my speaking ability (as usual, actually) so I'm doing a lot of pointing to my heart and saying, "Qua...grazie" ("Here...thank you").
While many whom I love view me as an adventurer who marches to any beating drum, my reality has been a far cry from such an idea. My closet at home is organized by color, I get washed with a wave of peace when everything on my desk is arranged at a 90 degree angle to my chair, and I have a digital scale by which I weigh out my coffee to the gram each morning.
My two months walking along the Camino have challenged all of this. In the best shape of my life prior to leaving the States, I have been bowled over by the physical taxation of walking 25km days with a thirteen pound pack (that's on a day that I'm not carrying digestive biscuits, nuts, fruit and olive oil). When a body goes through such physical demand, standards reduce themselves to basic needs: nourishment and safety from the elements. Everything else -- the picky habits and time consuming customs -- begin to reveal themselves as superfluous.
Certainly there are matters of taste that have remained constant: I cannot share a sleeping space with a snoring Southern European man (ask me sometime about the night I was forced to sleep on the floor and got devoured by ants because the man next to me sounded like a crashing plane) and food must, must be beautiful, balanced and delicious. Today is a deconstructed recipe, appropriately from Italy, adapted to what's within reach in this sleepy Spanish city.
Butter Browned Apples with Bittersweet Chocolate and Hazelnuts
Adapted from Jessica Theroux 's Cooking With Italian Grandmothers
The original recipe is for hollowed-out apples stuffed with the nut filling and baked with sweet Marsala wine. It is impressive and gorgeous but impossible to do without an oven. Done atop the stove is a simpler (five minute) task and requires two elements: similar sized apple pieces and an attentive eye to not overcook the apple.
Ingredients
1 T butter
1 firm, tart apple - unpeeled, washed and cut into inch cubes
splash of sweet wine (optional)
1 t lemon zest
2 t cane sugar
2 pinches of salt
1/3 c chopped bittersweet chocolate (70% dark chocolate Lindt Postre over here)
1/2 c toasted hazelnuts, roughly chopped (toasted almonds are a more rustic and less expensive substitute)
Process
For the nut topping:
Place the lemon zest, sugar and salt in a mortar and grind with the pestle until fragrant - 30 seconds. Add the chocolate and nuts, give a few strong pounds until all ingredients are incorporated into each other but still crumbly. Taste for sweetness and sprinkle more sugar if desired. Set aside.
For the apples:
In a sauté pan, melt the butter over medium high heat. When melted, add the apples, shaking the pan a bit to coat the pieces in butter.
Reduce the heat to medium and shake the pan once or twice to keep the apples from sticking. Do not stir. The apple will quickly soften and hopefully brown a bit. This will take a maximum of five minutes -- the apples are best when they can be penetrated with a sharp knife but still possess a bite. Pour in a splash of sweet wine, if using and remove from heat.
Gently spoon the hot apples into small bowls, top with the sweet nut mixture and enjoy (with sweet cream or yogurt, if it happens to be around).
Yields: dessert for two
Prep time: 15 minutes
Cook time: 5 minutes
Photography by Amy Pennington/Writing and Styling by Adria Lee
No comments:
Post a Comment