How Did She Do It?

My Mom, pictured here at 81, raised seven kids. Every Sunday she made a real Sunday dinner and we would sit down, all together, at the table. It was usually a multi-course meal, starting with pasta and ending with fruit, nuts, cookies. As we got a little older, we began helping her with the clean-up, but for many years she was it. I remember the mountain of dishes that sat on the counter waiting to be washed after each one of these feasts; the pans piled-up in the sink; the table, ransacked and abandoned, that needed clearing; the crumbed and spattered floor that needed sweeping. Dad never let her clean-up too soon—he liked to linger, bring out the Liquore di Sambuca, pour another glass of wine. This was a time before dishwashers were standard in every kitchen (certainly not in ours); when businesses were closed on Sunday (people visited, or read the paper, or drank); and before husbands were equal partners in the household. Our table was elastic—Dad made room for 4, 5, even 6 more chairs, and often there would be an aunt and an uncle and a few cousins in those seats, always family, always a fun time for the kids. And much later, when we had boyfriends, we couldn't wait to bring them home and have them join in at the table. Even then there was a shimmer of awareness that this was something special—after all, none of our friends lived this way. Maybe because we were Italians in a wasp-y town; maybe because Mom didn’t work, outside the home--it was where we all wanted to be, the family dinner table, every Sunday. How did she do it?

That was the 50’s. Fast forward to 2009 and I am planning Christmas Dinner for 9, and having a hard time generating enough energy to jump in. But considering all the limitations I have to work with (1 guest loves meat, 1 is a vegetarian), I’ve come up with a menu I hope will work and be fun to cook. Of course it’s Italian and the main course is from an Italian cookbook I haven’t ever even opened since purchasing it about two years ago. But I trust this cookbook author, Nancy Harmon Jenkins. Jenkins is an accomplished foodie, a prolific cook book author, food writer and has been called "an anthropologist of the human soul as revealed through food." She has written extensively about Mediterranean cuisine and lives on the coast of Maine and in Tuscany (doesn’t that sound just perfect?).
Rather than starting the festivities with Prosecco, which I usually serve as folks arrive, I’m making one of Mario Batali’s suggestions for Christmas sparkle, Acqua d’Ananas, which is a Pineapple and Sweet White Vermouth cocktail. Sounds interesting, doesn’t it? As a collector of cookbooks, I’ve been wanting to try something from Batali’s 2000 Holiday Food cookbook and this cocktail may be just right--even my Mom may like it. Here’s the recipe in case you want to have it for your own Christmas celebration.



Serves 12
1 whole pineapple (2 lbs., peeled, cored, and cut into 2-inch chunks)
1 fifth sweet white vermouth
1 bunch tarragon leaves

Chill martini glasses in the freezer until very cold. Place the pineapple in a blender with half of the vermouth. Blend until smooth and pour over ice into the martini glasses, garnish with sprigs of tarragon, top each glass with a splash of the remaining vermouth, and serve.

Our main course will be a recipe from Jenkins book, Cucina Del Sole, a Celebration of Southern Italian Cooking, 2007. The recipe is called Maiale Cotto in Vino Rosso con Cioccolate (Pork Braised in Red Wine with Chocolate).

I’ll publish the recipe after I see how it turns out!