Salami through the ages

Years tick over with crazy speed sometimes, and it can be hard to place a memory in its correct time slot.

Thank goodness for metadata, and a computer which tells me when a photo was taken.

("We always say thank you for metadata" - The Information Management student in me).

2011

Even while the years flash past, it's comforting to know that the rhythms of tradition give meaning to different seasons and stages.

The heart of winter is salami time.  Nonna sends out the phone call announcement, someone old and responsible (obviously not me) organises the meat pickup from the butchers, a date is set, and various family members trickle in.

Even before the birth of the Cooking With Nonna project, I was there with my camera to capture a family tradition which has literally been carried from generation to generation, Italy to Australia.

Fresh Pasta: Spaghetti & Fettuccine

This is where the magic happens...  (hint: replace fairy dust with generous handfuls of flour)

Combine one nonna, one over-excited granddaughter, a well-oiled pasta machine, and a couple of hours after lunch...

 Fresh pasta.

Fresh pasta was the bread and butter of Nonna's upbringing in the village in Italy.  I don't need to spell out how synonymous pasta is with the Italian way of life, but I assure you that it's not a cliche.

Pasta is verrrrry necessary. 

I promise I cranked the handle too, and did a reasonable amount of kneading...

There are three unique pasta shapes/types to Nonna's own tiny village which makes me wonder how many pasta shapes Italy has produced.  Can a hedge a bet at 50,000?

Nonna reminded me that there wasn't always a pasta machine on hand, and demonstrated the way to make the fettucine village-style.

Tossed through lots of fairy dust/flour...

Magic.

One month since Christmas

Christmas in my world revolves around the birth of my Saviour, sparkly decorations, some crazy gift shopping, family time and home cooked food.

This year we all went back to our childhood Christmas Day place... Nonna's house.  My Christmas lunch

was haunted by memories of the boys claiming the turkey drumsticks, wrapping paper under the couches, posed photos under the gum trees with new presents and the smell of percolating coffee.

2013, and the boys still got the turkey drumsticks. 

Fennel Biscuits

One of my earliest memories of Nonna's baking involves a crunchy biscuit, shaped like a fish, full of sharp-tasting fennel seeds.

We called them fennel biscuits or 'biscotti con finocchio'.

I get the feeling that fennel biscuits come from a very ancient recipe which has been adapted all throughout Italy for generations (maybe I'm speculating).

Today, some of the family still living in Italy run their own biscuit factory which sells fennel biscuits of course. Nonna remembers the time when all fennel biscuits were handmade and served at weddings with a glass of homemade wine.

When I was diagnosed with a wheat intolerance at the age of eight, fennel biscuits were off the diet (boohoo!).

But I re-discovered them again this year.

My stomach lets me eat wheat again now, so I asked Nonna if we could make another batch of fennel biscuits for the cookbook.

When I bit into my first fennel biscuit of the last 13 years, the crunch brought me right back to where I'd left off - but I have to be careful... these things are addictive!

We can't forget Easter...

Even though it was over a month ago, Easter time is important when you are Cooking With Nonna.

When Nonno and Nonna were living in the village in Italy, Easter was really the biggest holiday of the year on the Italian Catholic calendar.

My family has always come together for a big lunch on Easter Sunday.  We have Nonna to thank for this tradition, and although I can't speak for the whole family, I know that Nonna has infused into me a sense of the joy and thanksgiving spirit of Easter.  She always provides us with gifts, family time and of course a special meal... this year I was at Nonna's the day before making lasagna and other goodies.  But that's another post.

Down in the shed, the lasagna has just finished cooking.