Amaretto is nowhere near sour, on the contrary it is very sweet. Not even the official drink Amaretto Sour is sour enough for me. I was out to dinner with my husband last weekend and he ordered an Amaretto Sour, and within the glass walls of this drink were Amaretto soaked blueberries—which gave one pause. Well, at least it gave me pause. It was good: and I knew I wanted to play with the flavors.

So I buzzed into the liquor store today, with it in mind to pick up some ’sour’ to go with the Amaretto. I read the label, turned on my heal and promptly walked out empty handed.

For the most part, Sour is also called ‘Sweet and Sour’ and is basically simple syrup (sugar and water) with some [far from fresh] citrus for effect. Besides, I am liking the premix parts of my drinks less and less.

Now, I could make simple syrup easy enough, but I thought the drink would stay too sweet, so instead I focused on the citrus side and went for Agave Nectar—in splash form—to finalize this drink. (You can buy agave nectar in the sugar/baking aisle of many grocery stores). Don’t walk away just yet: if agave is completely foreign to you, it isn’t required to make this drink worthwhile. In the end, all you really need is a lemon.

I think this drink deserves a new name. Not because it will land on a restaurant menu—though it would be fun to serve at the front end of a dinner party—but because both sweet and sour are particularly misleading. I could call it Amaretto Citrus, but finally decided on:

Amaretto Limone
Serve over ice.

Amaretto
1 Lemon per drink
optional: garnish with a couple of frozen blueberries
optional: finish with a small splash of agave nectar

Fill tumbler/neat glass with ice (this is your smaller glass, the one half the size of a pint glass). For my glass, I used a chilled jar. Fill 2/3 full of amaretto. Add juice of one lemon. Add optional blueberries and agave.

I was afraid to try my hand at veal scallopini. I think I was intimidated to attempt this restaurant stalwart, the ‘unavoidable signature dish’ that reflects the caliber of food at a given restaurant.

To gauge an Italian restaurant, I order—with a mix of trepidation and genuine anticipation—veal scallopini. Or in a pinch, I order the other ’standard Italian’ dish: lasagna (somewhere in my head I hear my husband’s voice: standard and Italian don’t belong in the same breath—it’s an oxymoron! One guess on his heritage.).

Do you do that as well? You walk into a new restaurant—one tied to a particular culinary tradition—and order what is considered the standard, classic, staple [and ideally specialty] entree, since it so stereotypically represents the culinary barometer from, in this case, Italy.

If the lasagna tastes blah, with overcooked pasta and rubbery cheese and ‘how do you ruin red sauce?’, chances are the rest of the menu falls under the ‘blander side of life.’ But if the lasagna melts in your mouth, has award-winning red sauce, fresh noodles, and quality cheese that can hold its own, it may be safe to bet that all dishes are crafted with the utmost care as if for a king (or a non-standard Italian).

So it is with veal. And who am I to take on this ultimate, bar-setting, easily-critiqued culinary feat?

I tried it—and who knew? Found that a simple version is quite easy to make, and the melt-in-your-mouth flavors far outweigh the efforts to plate and put this lemony gem on the table. Even my fourth grader adored it: the veal was tender, the flavors rich yet citrusy with a certain sophistication ushered in by the capers. Steamed or roasted vegetables and some focaccia to sop up the extra sauce makes for a simply prepared, quick to make meal (and just may beckon the status of ‘default dinner’).

And who knows? Maybe at some point, not too long from now, I will venture to make veal marsala?

Veal Scallopini w/lemon and capers
serves 4.

4 scallopini (1/4 - 1/2 inch thick)
2 T olive oil
2 T butter
3-4 T flour
1 lemon (or 2 cubes of lemon juice)
2 T capers, rinsed of brine
2/3 - 1 cup chicken broth
optional: 1/3 cup white wine
optional: 1 T butter
KS&CP (kosher salt & course pepper)

Lightly coat scallopini by dipping into and shaking off flour. Heat skillet over medium high, pouring in 2 T oil and 2 T butter. When almost smoking, add scallopini (two rounds is fine, as they won’t all fit at once, add more oil and butter if needed). Cook one minute per side until browned, place under foil on plate to keep warm. When finished cooking veal, using same pan, pour in broth and wine and simmer until reduced by half (about 15 minutes). Off heat, stir in juice from half a lemon (slice other half into wedges to serve on dinner plate), the capers, 1 T of butter if using and KS&CP to taste. Pour over veal and serve.

I am in love. No, not just with my darling husband and children, but with Matiz. If it sounds like a well-kept secret, well it used to be. And I used to feel like I had the show-stopping trend all tucked away in my own little box of culinary delights. But alas, no more. As with all good trends, like popular baby names or sunflowers or leg warmers, my little torta has been discovered. Soon, no doubt, Matiz will be everywhere.

‘Torta de Aceite,’ my sweet love. Matiz is the Spanish brand name scored across the crinkly parchment that is wrapped—like an envelope around a love letter—tenderly around this cracker-like sweet torta or ‘olive oil crisp bread.’

Coffee shops sell them, Whole Foods proudly displays them, little local deli’s and trendy grocers supply them. My first introduction to this sweet display of culinary bliss was years ago on a little Island, in a tiny little Italian delicatessen, tucked happily off the coast of Washington State. The whole shop is a gem; and they seem to import all the good food and best kept secrets.

But now that they have been found out, and Matiz has been put on the culinary stage, it is my secret no more. So if you see it, buy it, and if you don’t find it, go peek at their site. The little tortas are lovely with coffee or wine, as a simple dessert or a tantalizing appetizer. With pungent cheese, fresh fruit or shoot, a measly glass of water.
And, so as to bolster up my culinary snobbery, I thought I would attempt making a similar version of Matiz’s sweet little tortas. (Recipe found in Martha’s new Baking book).

Olive Oil Wafers
1 1/2 cups and 2 T flour
1/4 cup unhulled sesame seeds
3 T sugar
1 T anise seeds
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup olive oil
1/4 cup plus 2 T ice water
2 egg whites, beaten until foamy

Oven to 400. Mix first 6 ingredients in blender. Combine olive oil and ice water, then add them to blender until just combined. Shape into golf-ball size rounds, placing two at a time on a rolling board, 6 inches apart. Place wax paper over top (I used silicone silpats underneath). Roll out into think cracker-like 8×4 inch ovals. Transfer to cookie sheet, brush with egg white and sprinkle with some sugar. Bake 6-8 minutes; store up to 4 days.

The sun is out! I cannot wait until summer is blaring at full rate, with cozy days and long evenings sipping this or that until light finally wanes and one lazily heads to bed. There is something soothing about summer, and it isn’t just the warm nights: it is the grilled food.

I have been told—even chastised—for not heating up the grill in the dead of winter. I am beginning to heed that advice, taking off the grill cover once in awhile for a seafood or beef marinated skewer, some easy to make burgers and even a pile of grilled veggies. The thought of it warms me to the core: I like this grill-in-the-winter concept. It does make you feel like you are making summer proud, offering it a stake in taking over another season or in the very least enjoying the culinary nod of outdoor cooking wherever, whenever.

That said, even if you are snowed in right now, the sunshine peeking through here is beckoning me to step outside and grill a bit. And even if it rains, I can tuck under the eaves of my home while grilling, taking some forlorn, summery flavors and bringing them inside to my early spring table (feel free to don the snowsuit or umbrella if your grilling commitment requires braving the elements!).

Put your grill on: whether saluting summer, serenading spring or laughing in the face of winter, I cannot wait any longer to eat these amazing bacon wrapped, goat-cheese-filled figs (it is almost sinful how yummy these are, and how simple they are to make):

Prosciutto Wrapped Figs
Figs
Goat Cheese
Prosciutto

Place figs upright, slice an X through the stem top, down to about 1/2 inch from fig base. Insert rounded tsp. of goat cheese into middle of X; wrap entire fig—around the belly—with prosciutto. Grill until charred and warm. Serve and savor summer… open eyes not required.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! It can be fun to dress up humble smashed potatoes; the fun only increases if it is for a festive affair. To be totally Frank—or Patrick for today’s namesake—the reason I like these green smashers is because, well, they are better for you than when they aren’t green.The peas in this happy glop offer bites of freshness in the middle of creamy, homey bliss. My son loves these green potatoes because I let him use my hand-held immersion blender to puree these lovely taters into a smooth, creamy green. Ah, the world of kitchen tools. Instead of regular smashers, add these green, fresh yet creamy potatoes as a proximate plate neighbor to juicy lamb or another favorite entree.

Minty Pea Potatoes
3 baking potatoes
1 10 oz package frozen peas
sprigs of fresh mint
3 T butter
1/4 cup Parmesan
1/4 cup sour cream
KS&CP (kosher salt and course pepper)

Skin the potatoes, chop into 1 inch cubes and boil for 10 minutes. Add frozen peas, let boil 2 minutes. Add 20 mint leaves, boil another minute. Drain—scoop out 1/2 cup of the peas—puree the rest with food processor or blender. Add butter, Parmesan, sour cream and salt and pepper. Stir to blend. Gently fold in peas. Serve with a hearty sprinkling of salt and pepper, and some freshly shaved Parmesan.