Letter of Transit

 

 

     There are times when you ride the train in the early morning and it's all grotesques.

 

  

Vincent Van Gogh, Prisoners Exercising (After Dore), 1888 

     Residual, slight self-awareness quietly tells you that this is an unfair, possibly inaccurate, judgement.  On these days, to the extent you retain (and wish to retain) any small sense of self-containment, the disconnected endings that seem to protrude from every point tear, abraid, and “put paid” to that.  You become entrapped in a collective, unhappy and bothering, unconscious. 

Vincent Van Gogh, Starry Night Over The Rhone, 1888

     Steps that take you from home to terminus (not yours) are like climbing a defense wall studded with glass shards or penetrating razor wire. Remembering that you actually pay (a great deal) for this experience lends, as a poet once wrote, comedy to shame.

     Every single building and still unlighted window seen across the river from the train reminds of an unacknowledged telephone call or unanswered letter.  Long Shot Kick De Bucket by The Pioneers comes to mind.   All your pens stop working at exactly the moment you finish finally drafting the grim letter you've been carrying around in your head.  

      Cold, no coat; mislaid and misremembered address, purpose for the day and conviction.  At the next terminus (not yours), terrible food made of oddly assorted ingredients is on sale in ugly stores at prices that recall childhood “Your Weight On Jupiter” exhibits.  I feel like a fish swimming in the wrong kind of water.

Vincent Van Gogh, Wheatfield With Crows, 1890

     Many hours later the phone rings and Jane has a question. (The only good part of cell phones is hearing from your daughter or wife.  Everything else can be handled in due course.)  Let Your Yeah Be Yeah (Pioneers) comes to mind along with a memorable passage I cannot quite remember from Henry Green about dangers inherent in leaving the house, recommending  the “oblique approach in middle age” and ending “the unusual at this period is to get anywhere at all—God damn!”   There was also something about loving your family and your cats.

Only an approximation of the wonder that follows

     This is the basic version of a Christmas cookie recipe we make every year, which may have  a couple of secret chef variations (I believe the French call these trucs) that I’m not aware of because I’m not the baker.  We served these the other night and our guests ate with greater pleasure than I can recall seeing on view anywhere during the entire year 2010:

Almond Spritz Cookies 

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. Combine 4 1/2 cups flour with 1/2 teaspoon salt.

3.  Cream together (using standing or hand mixer) with 1 1/2 cups sugar and 2 cups butter.

4.  Add 4 egg yolks, 2 teaspoons almond extract, green food coloring and stir into flour mixture.

5.  Put dough through cookie press (we use a Christmas tree shape) onto ungreased cookie sheet.  Paint carefully with reserved egg whites and decorate as desired. (Take care not to drip egg white onto sides of cookies or cookie sheet as it will make cookies stick and break.)

6. Bake about 10 minutes.

Van Gogh at 13, 1866

Arles Arena

Arancini di Riso (Little Oranges Of Rice)

I love arancini di riso, and what could be more beautiful?

Giadia De Laurentiis’ recipe below seems very good and logical.  

However, her “degree of difficulty” description reminds me of that old Senor Wences wisecrack, “easy for you, difficult for me.”  I love cooking most "normal" rice preparations (from a variety of cultures), but whenever I've tried to fashion arancini or sushi, I end up with hands that look like rice gloves.  Onward and upward, I say.  I intend to get the hang of this someday because the arancini offered for sale at most commercial establishments tend to be bland, overcooked, heavy and starchy.  Properly prepared, they are heavenly, a sort of riso or risi e bisi apotheosis.

Arancini Di Riso

Vincent Van Gogh, Still Life With Oranges, Lemons and Blue Gloves, 1889, Oil on Canvas

Arancini di Riso (Giada De Laurentiis)

Prep Time: 10 min

Cook Time: 20 min

Level: Easy

Serves:  about 20 servings

Ingredients

• Vegetable oil, for deep-frying
• 2 large eggs, beaten to blend
• 2 cups Risotto with Mushrooms and Peas, recipe follows, cooled
• 1/2 cup grated Parmesan
• 1 1/2 cups dried Italian-style bread crumbs
• 2 ounces mozzarella, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
• Salt

Directions

Pour enough oil in a heavy large saucepan to reach the depth of 3 inches. Heat the oil over medium heat to 350 degrees F.

Stir the eggs, risotto, Parmesan, and 1/2 cup of the bread crumbs in a large bowl to combine. Place the remaining breadcrumbs in a medium bowl. Using about 2 tablespoons of the risotto mixture for each, form the risotto mixture into 1 3/4-inch-diameter balls. Insert 1 cube of mozzarella into the center of each ball. Roll the balls in the bread crumbs to coat.

Working in batches, add the rice balls to the hot oil and cook until brown and heated through, turning them as necessary, about 4 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the rice balls to paper towels to drain. Season with salt. Let rest 2 minutes. Serve hot.

Mushroom Risotto with Peas:

• 8 cups canned low-salt chicken broth
• 1/2-ounce dried porcini mushrooms
• 1/4 cup unsalted butter
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 2 cups finely chopped onions
• 10 ounces white mushrooms, finely chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 1/2 cups Arborio rice or short-grain white rice
• 2/3 cup dry white wine
• 3/4 cup frozen peas, thawed
• 2/3 cup grated Parmesan
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper, optional

Bring the broth to a simmer in a heavy medium saucepan. Add the porcini mushrooms. Set aside until the mushrooms are tender, about 5 minutes. Keep the broth warm over very low heat.

Melt the butter in a heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add olive oil. Add the onions and saute until tender, about 8 minutes. Add the white mushrooms and garlic. 

Using a slotted spoon, transfer the porcini mushrooms to a cutting board. Finely chop the mushrooms and add to the saucepan. Saute until the mushrooms are tender and the juices evaporate, about 5 minutes. Stir in the rice and let it toast for a few minutes. 

Add the wine; cook until the liquid is absorbed, stirring often, about 2 minutes. Add 1 cup of hot broth; simmer over medium-low heat until the liquid is absorbed, stirring often, about 3 minutes. 

Continue to cook until the rice is just tender and the mixture is creamy, adding more broth by cupfuls and stirring often, about 28 minutes (the rice will absorb 6 to 8 cups of broth). 

Stir in the peas. Mix in the Parmesan. Season with salt and pepper, to taste.

Yield: 6 servings

Prep Time: 10 minutes

Cook Time: 1 hour

Vincent Van Gogh, Still Life: Vase With Fifteen Sunflowers, 1888, Oil on canvas

Odilon Redon, Ophelia, 1900-5, Pastel on paper mounted on board

Arancini Di Riso