Recipe: Preserved Lemons

For one jar of preserved lemons:

(canning jar with plastic or rubber lid covering is best)
5 - 6 small organic or meyer lemons
sea salt (enough for stuffing a few T into each quartered lemon)
 

Cut the lemon from top to bottom in quarters, but not all the way through. Basically a cross at the top, all the way down, but not through. Stuff each quadrant with approx. 1 tablespoon of salt.
Put 5 – 6 lemons (however many will fit) into the jar and seal jar tightly.
 

Leave lemons on the kitchen counter for 3 weeks. Turn them upside down, then right side up every day. Can keep for up to one year in pantry or refrigerator.

After opening the jar, use a wooden spoon to scoop them out. (Avoid metal.)

Reasons to Visit India.

Everyone, including me has had reservations about India. It’s large. Daunting and Deep. It’s one of those places that intrepid travelers go. Those of us that are strong, curious, and unaffected by the extreme.

We have heard stories from our friends, and friends friends, about coming home with their lives forever changed. Perhaps they have even had a taste of enlightenment from studying with a guru or yoga master. Lost weight. Become vegetarian. Started wearing patchouli. I have nothing against patchouli. I like the smell and used it as a teenager, emulating those my sister’s age, who had made the great trek in the late 60’s and early 70’s.

When I think back to the that time, it was revolutionary. Our minds did change. We got a glimpse of how the other side approached life, what they ate, how they behaved and related to each other in a completely different culture from our own. Yet, it seemed further than far… east. A place if you went, you would not come back the same.

In 2004, I had the great pleasure of visiting India for the first time. I did not go as a back-packer. I did not go to study with a spiritual master. I went at the invitation of a friend of a friend, who wanted to set me straight about India.

Mohan, I later realized, is a man of power. A young, vivacious entrepreneur, with insight and finesse in the travel business. From the start, I realized that I was not only in good hands, but I was going to see a different India than I had heard of from my friends.

As a constant traveler, I am used to roughing it. I have grown accustomed to changes, transitions and the unpredictable. What was not used to, is the level of attention that I got from Mohan and his staff. No one likes to end up in a foreign country, jet lagged, in a time zone eight hours different than your own, not speaking the language or knowing where to go. I was met at the gate, taken to the baggage counter, then consequently taken to be dropped off with a private driver who took me to my hotel, where I was greeted by the manager. No matter who you are, tell me, is there anyone who wouldn't appreciate this?

A smartly dressed door man greeted me with a salute. His plume fluffed in the air. From then on, everything in India seemed to glide as if skiing down a perfectly long and gentle slope in the afternoon sunlight. The first stop: The Imperial Hotel, a lovely place to lay one’s head after a revitalizing ayurvedic treatment from the spa. It sniffs of the old Raj, but in modern days boasts a time gone by, still available in present time. This was only the beginning.

When I mention India, most people express reservations like, “I’m afraid of the poverty.” Or the other extreme, “I don’t want to stay in a hotel that might cut me off from reality.” My answer to these questions are quite elaborate. From my experience, I can tell you, that neither is a reason not to visit India.

Poverty is a big subject. It exists in the world in a grave way, and more than likely right in our backyards. There are people that live with very little, people that live in horrid conditions, and people that are compromised. It is our right to know how our fellow humans are living. In a country of 1.2 billion people in the 7th largest country in the world at 1, 269,000 square miles, there is more than a fine number of people that also live well. Their simple or sophisticated lives no different that what you see in our own country.

India has a climate variation from the Himalayas, almost to the equator. It is a country of contrasts and extremes. It is also elegant, regal, inspirational and mystical. The country is also having a heyday in technology. The cities are large and filled with an educated and sophisticated lot.

As I look forward to my next trip, I feel goose bumps. There is a way of life, not unlike Europe, that centers around a rhythm of the day. Family is golden and meals are the glue. I can smell the spices tempering in oil, see a lovely table set with various bowls of goodness and look forward to getting my hands washed, ready to gather rice with dahl, mixing in a tasty vegetable with a touch of mango pickle and popping it into my mouth. Noticing the intimate contact of finger to mouth. There is a softness and gentleness to the people in general, and a sense of humor that keeps you on your toes. As a nation, 75% of Indian people believe in karma, the law of cause and effect. This keeps them mindful of their actions. A greeting is a warm "Namaste" (I see the God within you) with folded hands in prayer position, in the marketplace and on the street. Not just after a yoga class.

India has something special. A religious melting pot that shows us that people can live together with diversity. A Muslim, Hindu and Christian can work in small quarters because at heart, they are Indian. Their sense of hospitality is legendary. “We treat our guests like a God.” There does seem to be something over and above the general “in service to.” There is not too much in the way when making contact. Not based on ceremony, their presence is open and intelligent. They are curious and kind.

Above all, the aesthetic of the old palaces reek of another époque. We are escorted everywhere with the utmost respect. We rub shoulders with royalty and find them quite approachable and no different that ourselves. We are bathed in a sea of colorful sari’s from the street sweeper to the sweet seller. Every woman carries herself with dignity. The children’s eyes are flashes of light. We absorb buckets of love from walking around such a place and give back by receiving and bearing witness.

This trip is an opportunity not only to see the Taj Mahal, painted elephants, lake palaces and lotuses floating in a pond. It’s an opportunity to see through our concepts and feel the depth of your heart in a way that only India can open.

Down Home

Even during a crisp November, the Alabama air was cool and humid. The skies were often grey and the ground, a wet looking brown. A sense of melancholy hung on the bare trees like something was missing.

Sitting on Aunt Siddy's porch 1980's

It took two hours to drive from Albertville to Ashland in Clay county.

Every Sunday we hitched the wagon and off we would go. (Well, at least that's what it felt like.) It was a given and the thought of it made me nauseous. A small child's love-hate of something that had to be done: curvy roads, travel away from home, but knowing that love and good food was at the end.

Highway 77 is a two-lane road, running through rural countryside and small towns. We stopped in Rainbow City religiously for a soft swirl ice cream. We passed church after church with billboards professing the second coming and often hilarious quotes like, "Gossip is like an old shoe, everything wears out except for the tongue", and "America needs a faith lift." We passed large land holdings with cattle and played cow poker. Coca-cola was my drink du jour and kept the carsickness at bay. So did listening to country music and gospel on the radio.

Where do you find Ordinary Magic?

The Chhatra Sagar luxury tent village, India: Tasting Royal Rajasthan

"Another incredible place! They took Ann Coffaro and I on a guided bird walk. I saw one hundred and twenty new birds in India. My favorite was the Bee-eater. Talk about birding in style! A porter to carry the scope and refreshing drinks on a tray at the end of the trail." 

~ Tara O'Leary, India 2012.

Each time I visit India, I find myself slipping between the veils of past and present, of luxury and the ordinary. I am reminded how thin the line is between the extraordinary and the everyday.  Devi Garh is my favorite hotel of the program, an 18th century palace fort that royally commands the valley and looks out over the Aravalli hills. Bo-chic in style, its modern interiors are minimalist, austere five-star elegance, a bit "Indian Zen."

The surrounding natural landscape offers solace. The colorful village below, with intermittent baby blue houses, offers charm. I learned the motive for this brilliant color is two-fold: the paint keeps insects away and also praises lord Krishna. On my first visit to this divine place, I left the fairy tale world of the palace hotel, the bathtubs filled with rose petals and airy verandas, and went for a walk in the village down the hill.  Barefoot shop owners sat before scales on old wooden counters or on the floor. Some were turbaned, some not. We nodded hello to each other as I passed. Women carried food or water jugs on their heads, gliding gracefully in their saris, as vibrantly colored as the fruits and vegetables spread out on blankets and carts. The village astrologer sat on the corner, dressed in red next to a sky-blue wall, waiting for a consultation. Carts of vegetables displayed local varieties with names like "Lady Fingers" and "Gentleman's Thumbs." I followed some of the women through a doorway and found an old man making the terra cotta pots used to store cool water. With white hair and beard, he stooped and twirled his wheel with a stick. Once it got going to the speed he was happy with, he threw some clay in the middle and started molding. Three small pots were produced within minutes:

Devi Ghar Village Potter

These are the moments I cherish. Easing into the pace of local life and discovering the artfulness of a simple, age-old skill. Watching an old man's hands shape clay into pots, or the hands of the women easing the pots onto their heads, calling their little ones to follow down the road. So often travel to a faraway spot reminds us to appreciate the magic of everyday life. The finer elements of this particular program always bring me back to the simple pleasures that lend soulfulness. 

We invite you to join us, in Rajasthan this February. 

With love, 

Peggy

Afternoon Apertivo at Cibreo.

At Cibreo Caffe, alcohol is served in varying degrees of strength throughout the day, but never without food, and rarely does a Florentine order more than one drink.

There are morning aperitivi before lunch and evening aperitivi before dinner. The Italians are modest when it comes to drinking, as if there are unspoken cultural rules. There’s only one thing worse than wine for the liver…and that’s the wind.

‘Il vento fa male il fegato!’ A mother yells to her children to button up, "The wind is bad for the liver!" 

 But the Aperitivo? Io adoro! It is my early evening meditation.  A crisp divine white wine, poured into a tall crystalline glass. It comes to the table, not with pattatine (Italian potato chips cooked in olive oil and sprinkled with sea salt), which I love, but with pizzette, tiny pizzas only big enough for a bit of sauce and a few capers. They come on a long plate with shiny black olives, and thin fried crisps of chick pea crackers laced with garlic. Bright yellow pepper pickles show up occasionally in a small white bowl, looking like a present from someone’s affectionate aunt.

Fabio, the owner of Cibreo, loves the advanci. He never throws anything away. Whatever is left over is used brilliantly, or at least pickled.

During the summer I acquiesce to gin and tonic or to the negroni, a strong alcolico forte! ma buonissimo. "Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker." Allegria to the rescue, forcing any sense of negative emotion way beyond the front lines. Two would be deadly and most unladylike, though to me, nothing is more civilized than a proper aperitivo. It 'opens' the appetite and stimulates digestion. The monks invented strong liquors as medicine, to be taken before and after meals. I to bow to the Italian brethren for making this ritual one of the best ingredients for la dolce vita.

Florentines flow in and out of the bar. They greet each other casually, one looking more fine than the next. People-watching here is like flipping through a fashion magazine, but better. It’s alive.

Florentine style is understated, chic. This is not Hollywood. There is no bling. But there’s balance. It’s what you call "taste"—an eye for quality and detail. It also doesn’t hurt to be drop dead gorgeous with olive skin refined as Michelangelo’s sculpted marble. Though not all Florentine's are or have been good looking. One look at Dante or the Medici and you understand the gene pool, yet, it's safe to say they were intelligente da morire. The character and the way Florentines carry themselves- so confident, intelligent and interesting, comes from centuries of sophistication.

I for one, do not come from such a background, unless I was here "once before." But I do feel at home here, un Fiorentina finta, a pretend Florentine. Especially inside my "uscio e bottega."

pasta with oil-cured tuna, capers, red onions, tomatoes and basil

Feeding large parties that also include a gang of hungry Italian musicians is challenging. With one small kitchen, a few large pots and a lot of volanta..(willingness), I cook pasta for the masses with as much 'gusto' as possible. Gusto also means 'taste'. Italians are tough critics, so one can't mess around when feeding them their favorite food. I have to invent, but stay within reason.

One of the most Italianissima summer pasta dishes is pasta con tonno e capperi (tuna and capers). It's lovely to add thinly sliced red onions and cherry tomatoes as well. It's an instant one dish meal, with plenty of protein and flavor. As you can see, the sauce is uncooked and therefore, perfect for transferring from the kitchen to your table 'al fresco'.

With the overfishing of tuna, I have a moral decision to make when thinking of this dish. I choose a very good quality, specially selected tuna preserved in oil (in a large red tin) from Spain. I know the story of the Sicilian matanza. I am aware of present-day practice and over fishing that keeps certain fishes from being sustainable all over the world. Tuna was king of fishes. Smart. Plentiful and meaty. Catching and preserving it in oil has kept many island people alive for centuries. Now it's not allowed. There are quotas. It has also been a staple for Americans. That's more tuna than certain schools can generate. I don't buy tuna in America, nor do I choose it in a sushi bar against my will. Especially fresh.. I adore it in many ways..mostly raw. Here is a good article with more info on just how the Spanish are approaching the situation.  Sustainable Tuna debated on Spanish TV.

I do choose to use tuna once in a 'blue moon'; of which there was one this August. I took the liberty to make a beloved Italian favorite and the crowds jumped for joy. It's not the Italians fault that we are losing our resources. There has historically been respect and ritual in these Mediterranean waters. They took only what they needed. Tuna is nutritious and one fish can feed a family for days. The fact that it's a fish that can be preserved is another bonus.

Here is the recipe I made up in the countryside of Montifiridolfi, a tiny Tuscan town not far from San Casciano, a half hour south of Florence in the heart of Chianti. It fed 45 people amply in 95 degree weather. They took a 2 hour hike in the heat afterwards, but they weren't hungry.

On a hot day, there is nothing more satisfying that a plate of this pasta room temp with a glass of cool rose'.

Penne Ragate con Tonno, Capperi, Pomodorini, Olive, cipolla rosa e Parmigiano Reggiano

2- 8 oz   cans of good quality sustainable (Dolphin safe!) tuna preserved in oil.
1            fresh red onion, sliced in half as thin as possible
2            cups of pomodorini (cherry tomatoes) sliced in half
1/2         cup of rinsed capers in salt
1 c         of oil-cured black olives, pitted and roughly chopped (optional)
1 bunch of basil and Italian parsley, chopped fine and set aside.
1/2 c       of Parmigiano Reggiano, freshly grated


1 box    (500 grams) of Penne Ragate of your choice

Chop all ingredients separately and put in an ample bowl. Open the cans and break up the tuna and add to the bowl. Add a generous drizzle of olive oil. 

Heat a generous pot of water, add a palmful of good quality course salt. Bring to a rolling boil.
Add the pasta and cook until al dente, (where only a hairline of white can be seen).

Drain the pasta, preserving a cup of the pasta cooking water. Set aside. 

Toss all ingredients with the freshly cooked pasta in a large serving bowl. If it seems dry or a bit sticky, add a bit of the pasta cooking water, it loosens the pasta nicely. Add most of the parsley
and parmigiano. Distribute all chopped bits evenly. Finish by drizzling a generous amount of extra-virgin olive oil and dash the remaining parsley and parmigiano to please the eyes. 

 On a hot day, there is nothing more satisfying that a plate of this pasta room temp with a glass of cool rose'.

 It's the end of summer, but I think this dish will be a hit at least until the end of September here in 
Italia..! Buon appetito!


 

Photo Recap: Our 20th Anniversary Tour

 

Emily Markel Luebcke, Giulio Picchi, and Graham Markel. Ristorante Cibreo, Florence. June 8th, 2012

Emily and Graham were 12 and 9 when I started. Their sweet natures allowed me to travel back and forth all these years. Emily lived with the Picchi/Vitali family for a semester when she was 15 and Giulio was 13. She now has two children, 4 and 6, and he manages Cibreo as heir apparent. Graham has been under the wing of many chefs since then and happens to be a fine cook with a passion for wine making and traveling the world like his mother.

I founded La Cucina al Focolare in 1992 in Reggello, on the grounds of The Fattoria Degli Usignoli. We focus on traditional Tuscan fare, prepared with three wood-fired ovens. Florentine antiques, Fratellini tables and stone floors give an authentic feel.