Anise-Almond Biscotti

I learned a lot of things about myself when I spent a month in Italy in college.

• I don't like to make grammatical mistakes, even in other languages.
• I like Italian coffee bars. Espresso or cappuccino, a biscotto or cornetto. A real cup, and a few seconds to enjoy.  No 20-ounce sugar-free, non-fat, super duper caramel latte, no giant mediocre muffin, none of this to-go nonsense.
• I can live without peanut butter.
• I love-love-love the flavor of anise. It started with my first sip of Sambuca, and I haven't been able to stay away since.

The word "biscotti" is the plural of "biscotto," which literally means "twice-cooked." You bake them once in a flat, oblong loaf, and then you slice them and bake them again!





These flavor of these cookies is subtle and sophisticated.  They make a fantastic gift, because they are fancy and impressive, and they keep well without becoming stale.

Give some away in cute little tins, but save a few for breakfast!

Anise-Almond Biscotti
adapted from Brown Eyed Baker
 
1.5 cups roasted unsalted almonds
2.5 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup yellow cornmeal
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
1 cup granulated sugar
1 teaspoon anise extract
3 large eggs, plus 1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon anise seedes
Turbinado (raw) sugar for decorating the top

Preheat oven to 375.  Line a large baking sheet with parchment and set aside.  On a different rimmed baking sheet, arrange the almonds in a single layer.  Place in the oven and toast until golden and fragrant, about 6-8 minutes.  Cool completely.  Sift together flour, cornmeal, baking powder and salt, and set aside.  Cream butter and sugar together until light and fluffy.  Add anise extract and beat to combine.  Add eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition.  Add flour mixture and stir to combine.  Stir in almonds and anise seeds.

Turn the dough onto a lightly floured surface, and knead to form a cohesive ball.  Make sure the nuts and seeds are evenly distributed.  My dough was very sticky, so make sure to have extra flour handy for your hands.  Divide dough in half, and shape each half into an oblong loaf, about 18 inches long, 6 inches wide, and 1 inch thick.  Don't worry too much if these loaves look smooth and pretty - it doesn't matter after you cut them up.  Transfer carefully to parchment-lined baking sheet and bake about 30 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through the cooking time, until the loaves are golden and firm.  Transfer parchment and loaves to a wire rack and cool 20 minutes.  Decrease oven temperature to 300 degrees.

Using a serrated knife, slice loaves on the diagonal into 1/2-inch slices.  Place a wire rack on a rimmed baking sheet, and arrange slices cut-side up.  Bake about 30 minutes, and let cool completely on the rack.

Yield: about 4 dozen

Book Review: Dirty Dishes

Dirty Dishes: A Restaurateur's Story of Passion, Pain, and Pasta

by Pino Luongo and Andrew Friedman. 

I came across this book as I was looking for restaurants to visit on a recent trip to New York City.  AFter reading great things about Pino's restaurant, Centolire, on the Upper East Side, I decided I had to try it.  My plan had been to go there for lunch in the middle of a day at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  I didn't make it to the museum, sadly, but I decided to make a special trip to the restaurant anyway.  I love the fact that, even though it's in a supremely ritzy and overpriced area, Centolire Cafe & Panini remains a little lunch spot where you can get an inexpensive, absolutely delicious bite to eat.  Someday I'll go back and eat in the mama restaurant for dinner, but this was a great first taste.

Later I learned that there's a restaurant in Chicago called Coco Pazzo that was started by Pino, too!  Our third wedding anniversary is coming up, and I bet you can guess where we'll be!

Pino's story is engaging and evocative.  He begins by describing his early life in Tuscany, and how he discovered his love of food in his mother's kitchen and honed his instincts in his uncle's restaurant.  I couldn't help but be enveloped in the world of memory he created through describing the smells and flavors of his childhood.  He then recounts his burgeoning acting career, followed by a very reluctant emigration to New York, where he found that the only place he could go to escape his homesickness was in a restaurant where the smells and tastes of home were recreated.  He then makes the astonishing journey from a busboy who barely speaks two words of English, to a New York restaurant mogul, and then to a family man with one successful restaurant, happy to admit that it was all for love of cooking.  I was transported.  And I can't wait to expand my own repertoire to include some of the traditional Italian dishes that were described so lovingly throughout the book: pappa al pomodoro, pasta carbonara, traditional bolognese, rigatoni alla buttera, and spaghetti alle vongole (assuming I can find some dang vongole...).

Some of my favorite passages:

"Má never worked in a professional kitchen, but by the time she became a parent, cooking was such an extension and reflection of her life, it became a natural means of self-expression, right down to how she demonstrated her love for her children." 

"We'd bust the melons open on our knees, stick our heads inside, and devour the sugary flesh, emerging with devilish smiles and dripping-wet faces.  After we had our fill, we'd stage a watermelon war, logging the orbs at each other in the dark until we were covered from head to toe with juice.  Then we'd hop on our scooters and disappear up into the hills to the east, toward Saturnia, where there were warm sulfuric waterfalls.  We'd let the spa water cleanse our clothes and skin, then collapse in the grass and stare up at the moon and stars until we fell asleep."

"You can only be told so much about pasta.  If you want to understand and master it, you need to immerse yourself in it until you've absorbed it and it's become a part of you, like that perfect, elusive coming together of pasta and sauce."

Check out his restaurant, books, and more about Pino at http://www.pinoluongo.com/.  Have a great weekend!