Sunday Feast № 51 | Almond Frangipane and Cranberry Tart with Honeyed Pistachios

Ever since late fall, there was a bag of fresh cranberries still hanging around in the bottom drawer of my fridge. They should have been gone by now, meaning eaten, but no, and suprisingly still looked highly edible. Maybe it is the skin... Anyhow. Here I had in my hands the latest issue (December/January 2017) of Saveur magazine, with this tart on the cover. Well, "those cranberries are dead now!" The original recipe called for ¾ cup frozen cranberries, which I thought suprising considering my state of fridge affairs and perception of the season, but probably normal for other fridges-freezers, and the original recipe called more sugar to mix them in. Also, seeing all the butter mixture beating, this recipe pushed me to acquire a hand-held electric mixer despite trying to keep the kitchen as "decluttered" as humanly possible - for me. Hand-held since I am still not ready to graduate, spacewise and otherwise, to a standup mixer. Give it time. Before that, bake this tart.

Sunday Feast № 22 | Aperitivo, or what to have with that Russian cousin of Negroni called Negrosky

The yearning for sunshine increases as the temperatures rise and days become longer. To while away the long afternoons drinking and eating at an outside table at you favorite watering hole is now a real possibility, and one long overdue. All that whiling means that a preamble to the dinner is called for. Since that ray of sunshine limoncello has to wait till after the dinner, being a digestivo, my mind drifted to Campari, a fine red aperitivo, a pre-dinner gem reminiscent of freshly breaking sunrise or the last smidgen of sunset, the latter yet to come if you start early enough. Now, we are civilized people; therefore, we will not sustain on Campari drinks alone (say, the titular Russian cousin of Negroni called Negrosky), but indulge the Italian art of aperitivo which calls for curbing alcoholic overindulgence with tasty sides. What a way to ease into the dinner hour!    As for that red goodness, "[Campari] is made by infusing a base of alcohol and water with a proprietary mix of herbs and fruits, including rhubarb, orange, and a variety of sour orange known as chinotto in Italian. The bitter infusion is then sweetened with sugar in the form of simple syrup and stiffened in accordance with its destination: 24% alcohol (48 proof) for American drinkers and 25% alcohol by volume (50 proof) for the Italians. Differences in taxation on alcohol are the most likely explanation, as Italians are not particularly well known for their high tolerances. Campari's signature ruby red color comes from colorants. Until recently, Campari's colorant of choice was cochineal dye, an all-natural coloring agent extracted from a beetle-like insect native to Central and South America. In 2006, the beetle juice was replaced with FD&C Red #5. Some claim the change came in response to protests of animal rights activists, but it's more likely that the artificial colorant was simply less expensive." - from Aperitivo: The Cocktail Culture of Italy by Marisa Huff, where the recipes are also from. Saluti bambini!

Fun on the side Negrosky 1 part vodka 1 part Campari 1 part sweet vermouth You know what to do. Serve on ice with a slice of an orange. Movie Cinema Paradiso (1988)