Everything I Learned as a Kid Came from Annie

Cousin Annie lived downstairs in the second floor apartment of Grampa Rinaldi’s house. My parents, brother, and I lived in the third floor apartment. Gramma and Grampa lived on the first floor. A very steep set of stairs separated me from Annie, but that never stopped me from bounding down the stairs any time of day or night to be with Annie. As small children we were together every single day. I hated it when she started school and I couldn't go with her just because I was one year too young to start kindergarten at St. Anthony’s School. I’m sure I bugged the heck put of her asking questions about what happened at school. I was so afraid that she would make too many new friends and leave me behind. I already played second fiddle next to Mary Ruth Valenino, her girlfriend up the street. I prayed to the Virgin Mary that Annie would always be like a sister to me and never go away.

As we grew up, whenever Annie learned anything new she would fill me in on the information. She clued me in on who had cooties and not to eat “mookey” pizza. Even secrets like, Mary Ruth and her liked Frannie Masarro, the neighborhood dream boy. Even though my mom taught me about sex from her nursing school medical textbook, she was too late because Annie already filled me in about kissing boys, getting pregnant, and which girls in the neighborhood were slutty. Annie taught me about makeup, shaving my armpits, and all about rock and roll music. She planned a full night of entertainment and snacks over us watching the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan show. I thought she went nuts when she started screaming while watching that program. Her mom, Aunt Katie, as usual threw a shoe at her to get her to shut up. I later found out from her that you were supposed to scream as loud as possible when a rock and roll idol was performing.

To me, Annie is our family’s Martha Stewart. She has a great family, wonderful home, and she also treasures our favorite family recipes. We both agree that family tradition is handed down in the food our ancestors prepared more so than anything else. When Annie had her own apartment, the first meal she made for me was delicious pork chops. I now call them Annie’s Italian Pork Chops.


Annie's Italian Pork Chops
Ingredients:
Pork Chops
Diced Potatoes
Medium Sliced Onion
Large Can Crushed Plumb Tomatoes
Parsley
Handful Bread Crumbs
Salt & Pepper to taste
2 -3 Crushed Garlic Cloves (to taste)
Handful Grated Parmesan or Romano Cheese

Mix all of the above in 9x13 pan.
Bake 350 uncovered until pork is tender, approx. 1 hour.

Gramma Grace's Easter Pie

Growing up I loved the Easter holiday. In our family, Easter was as big a deal as Christmas. The boys in the family wore little suits and ties with white shirts and new shoes. They looked like cute, but uncomfortable miniature versions of their Dads with slicked back hair. All the little girls in the family got new outfits to wear on Easter Sunday too. Easter outfits consisted of, my favorite, straw hats with streamers, ruffled dresses, lace-trimmed socks, and shiny, new black patent leather mary jane shoes. Every family member has Easter photos to prove we dressed up for the yearly Easter Sunday mass and following breakfast at Gramma’s house.

When us good Catholic children got up on Easter morning, we would rush to see what the Easter Bunny left in our beautiful Easter baskets. However, none of the candy could be eaten yet. You had to fast until after you went to mass and received Holy Communion. And, besides having to stay clean all day because of wearing the new clothes, we had to wait until after breakfast to eat any of the candy. Believe me when I tell you what torture it was waiting to be able to eat that Easter candy, especially after having to give up things like candy for Lent. I tried not promise to give up candy for Lent since I knew I could never keep that promise and was afraid I would end up burning in hell. I would try to give up thing like milk, vegetables, or the ever popular swear words. So, it will be my Mom’s fault that I burn in hell because she made me drink milk and eat vegetables.

One of my favorite things to eat on Easter at Gramma’s house was her Easter Rice Pie. Every Italian family has a version of what they say is the right recipe for Easter Rice Pie; here is my family’s simple yet tasty recipe:

Easter Rice Pie

Crust:
2 cups flour
2/3 cup Lard (vegetable shortening)
¼ tsp salt
6-7 Tbsp cold water
Filling:
1 Lb par boiled rice (save liquid for moistening)
1 ½ Lb proscuitto or boiled ham, cut in bite sized pieces
1 handful of Parmesan cheese
8 or 9 eggs, beaten
Dash of black pepper

Mix crust ingredients like you would make a pie crust. Roll dough and place pie crust in a 12” lightly greased cast iron frying pan. In a separate bowl, mix all filling ingredients. Use the liquid saved from boiling the rice to just moisten if it seems too dry. Fill pie crust and bake right in the cast iron pan at 325 degrees for 1 hour.

Recipe Searching and Hunting at the Grocery Store

I get so tired of eating and making the same things over and over. My problem is that I always seem so pressed for time. Plus, I hate grocery shopping; which is kind of weird since I like to cook and collect recipes. I’ll flip through my recipe collection and then my cupboard only to discover that I do not have some of the ingredients on hand. Once I’m home from work, I do not like to have to go back out to run to the store. That’s when I call Libby and get her to stop for me. Thank heaven that she loves to shop; but she always brings home more than I asked for since she has access to my debit card. I guess it is a small price to pay since I did not want to grocery shop anyway.

Libby has been interested in Middle Eastern cuisine lately most likely from associating with such a diverse group of students that work in her office at the University of South Florida. I’ve been willing to try anything as long as it’s quick to make, easy to find the ingredients, and seems like it would taste good. I found this recipe in an old edition of a Better Homes and Gardens Magazine I had laying around the house. I let them pile up until I have the time to cut out the recipes I want to try. After reading this recipe for Moroccan Chicken Stew, I thought I would give it a try. And as luck would have it, I had all the ingredients on hand. It turned out great; another “make again” recipe for my family favorites category.

Moroccan Chicken Stew

Ingredients:

1 lb. skinless boneless chicken thighs, cut into 1” pieces
1 tbsp. flour
1 tsp. ground coriander
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. ground paprika
1 tsp. salt
½ tsp. ground cinnamon
2 medium onions, cut into wedges
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbsp. olive oil
28oz. can crushed tomatoes
15 oz. can chickpeas, rinsed and drained
1 ½ cups water
½ cup raisins
1/3 cup small pitted black olives
3 cups hot cooked couscous
¼ cup snipped fresh cilantro

Directions:

In a bowl coat chicken with a mixture of flour, coriander, cumin, paprika, salt, and cinnamon. Set aside to marinate.
In a 4-Qt. Dutch oven cook onion and garlic in hot oil until tender. Remove from pan, reserving oil in pan.
Add chicken pieces, cook quickly until lightly browned, stir constantly.
Return onion to pan and add tomatoes, chickpeas, water, raisins, and olives.
Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer about 10 minutes or until chicken is tender. Stir occasionally.
Spoon couscous into soup bowls and ladle stew on top. Sprinkle with cilantro