Cassata! The most famous sweet in all of Sicily

What likely originated as a simple cake recipe made from egg, sugar, almond flour and ricotta creme is now one of Sicily's most coveted desserts - the Cassata! Cassata is a springtime cake traditionally made as an Easter specialty.

Crafting the Cassata from scratch is what Sicily is all about. You can't buy it anywhere and if you could find it, chances are the gorgeous pastry would be a much smaller version, a Cassatine, perhaps. Many attempts have been made to commercialize the Cassata, but it's just one of those traditional pastry recipes that due to the quality of the ingredients and delicacy of it's architecture, is impossible. If you think you have had a true Cassata outside of Sicily...you haven't. Which is why I feel so lucky to be part of the Cassata's genesis at Case Vecchie! Every time it comes to life, I learn something new from its assemblage. While their are a number of variations in the design of the Cassata, we typically make ours with a simple arrangement of sliced and whole candied fruit (as shown above). The design can be as complex or as understated as you want it to be, so long as that first bite slingshots you into another dimension.

There are 5-key ingredients to a well-balanced Cassata.

Sponge Cake

• Soft, delicate, fluffy...sponge cake. It speaks to you. When you back it and it's perfect, it should give a little squeaky sound, a kind of sponge cake melody if you will.  

Ricotta Cheese

• Fresh, FRESH ricotta cheese (filling). We source our ricotta cheese from Primavera, a local farm who produces the BEST ricotta cheese. For any vegans reading this post, I understand the concern for the well-being of the sheep. I assure you that they are treated very well. The shepherd loves his flock and makes sure enough milk is saved for the lambs.

 Marzipan

• The third mandatory ingredient that should be of the highest quality is the marzipan (almond flour/paste) which forms the outside crust of the pastry. The Regaleali estate supports a number of almond trees so fresh almonds always around. In fact, once per week I take a wood chopping board and mallet and spend 20-30 minutes crushing the nuts from their shells. 

Lemon Glaze

• Lemon juice and powdered sugar

Candied Fruit

• Crowning the Cassata is an orchestra of candied fruit. The process of making candied fruit is difficult. Many try and fail to make it properly. The process of candying whole fruit is something of a lost art. There aren't many people today that do it. Most pastry shops in the U.S that make Cassata or claim to make it, outsource their candied fruit from abroad. Even then it's not that good.

Everything in between -  the creation - the "doing" is what brings this masterpiece to life. Fabrizia is indeed a master. 

Happy Easter, everyone!

Seeing The Trees Through the Forest and Pruning Roses

Seeing Between The Forest & Trees

 

Have you ever used the phrase 'can't see the forest for the trees'? Most of us have heard it and probably used the quip at some point in conversation. I know I have. It means that people lose themselves in the details (trees) neglecting or forgetting the larger picture or vision (forest). This phrase is commonly used in business, but can be found in almost any industry. The environmental sustainability industry (which I fall into) loves to use this line given its symbolism. We often get so stuck in the details that those details become the overwhelming focus with the original vision (forest) becoming distorted.

As a designer I've been taught to see or slide between both at various stages of understanding a challenge or design problem. We take a 10,000 foot view to visualize and comprehend the big picture and then zoom in at a micro level to see the patterns and interconnections. We then pull out to assess the information gathered and then dive back in again to synthesize and problem solve. This oscillation occurs repeatedly with each cycle revealing something new and informative about the subject being analyzed. It's called the design process and it works - if you give it enough time to mature and evolve. Which brings me back to the trees (the details).

I've never been a stickler for detail (there are exceptions). I find things like setting the table or arranging the silverware, i.e the dinner fork, the salad fork, soup spoon, dessert spoon, dinner knife, water glass, wine glass and their respective positions, uniquely boring. I can do it and when I do, the ensemble is always very nice to look at, but I don't find it deeply satisfying. And yet, having a table neatly arranged, adds to the totality of the food experience. When I stop for half a second and think through why the art of table setting is important, I start to see the trees. The folding of the napkin comes into view, the patterns of color, texture, composition, are like a painting. Ultimately, they provide the infrastructure for what my attention is generally focused on - food and food stories. When I pull myself out of this functionally fixed box, the trees AND the forest suddenly become clear. Why? Because changing the context in which I find something boring gives me the opportunity to discover something new, leading to a better understanding of the subject and a greater sense of gratitude for the environment in which I'm working. The bigger forest question is, how did this happen? How did the feeling of being bored creep into daily life?

Midcentury existentialist, Jean-Paul Sartre, understood boredom as a fundamental philosophical crisis, what fellow philosopher, Schopenhauer once termed “the feeling of the emptiness of life”.  Saying it feels heavy! After a little research, I found that the sensation of boredom (albeit complex) can be boiled down to our inability to concentrate our attention. To fix this problem, we write schedules to organize the attention so details aren't missed. We make lists, as I wrote about in previous blogs, that we love scratching through as the day progresses. You know, to concentrate our attention.... It feels good, creates meaningful engagement resulting in progress. I am one of these people. I make lists not because I love making lists, but because it helps me maintain a certain cadence in my day.

However, what I've noticed is that these long lists have created a situation where I'm either scanning the surface for bite sized pieces of digestible information or I'm busy diving in and out of the micro world at a speed that's slow enough to extract data, but fast enough to return to 10,000 feet so that I don't lose site of the forest. Everything in between....is a cosmic blur and the details (the trees) I think I'm experiencing are but glimpses of worlds I've yet to explore. If one isn't vigilant about their levels of attention, collecting bite sized pieces of information as we email, take phone calls, tweet, instagram, update, chat, mult-task, re-check emails etc...can gum up the process, making it sticky and sloppy. We're bored, because we're over-stimulated.

Analyzing and piecing together the data points collected is important and often vital, but it can also come at a cost. By never fully understanding or appreciating how something has developed (its history, the context), we fill in the blank spaces with assumptions, often poor ones, that completely change the nature of what's being observed. Decision making becomes more difficult and flawed, because corners have been cut in the design thinking process to save time and probably money. We're never fully satisfied. There's always three mores boxes to tick. It's like going to a fancy restaurant, absorbing the delicious food porn (in very small, delicate portions) and then accepting, that part of the experience or reality, is going home hungry. My point is this: Being "bored" at work or wherever we might call 'the office' is symptomatic of a society where it's more important to get things done then it is to really understand why or what we're doing.  Even in Sicily, where the pace of life is slower, this overwhelming need to 'get as much done as possible' persists. That is until last week, I decided I was not going to participate in that kind of thinking anymore.

One morning, after I had finished my egregious cup of Italian coffee and my list of things to do (Weed flower beds, spread out mulch, empty compost, water plants, talk to seedlings, plant new seedlings, prune 100 yard prickly rose hedge, design plant walk) I let out a huge sigh. Two feelings hit me. Boredom (more weeding and pruning) and this nagging feeling that not only was I being ungrateful, but I was missing something vitally important by ensuring all these boxes would be ticked off by the end of the day. That vitally important element was quality, specifically, an appreciation and clarity of the details. Parts of the whole that formed the whole. Parts that I was missing. Not just the plant, but the components of the plant that allow the plant to be a plant! I could see the forest (I knew what I had to accomplish that day in the garden) It's that the details weren't as exciting. They didn't give back enough intellectual support to keep my attention. Meaning, I wasn't being instantly gratified in the same way I am used to by working in the digital space at break neck speeds. The payback (gorgeous roses) are a long-term investment. Which meant I would have to wait to see the fruits of my labor. Surrounded by the sublime, my gears had become taffy. So I took my list and scratched off everything, leaving the rose hedge free and clear. On that day, nothing else was going to matter. I wasn't going to allow all the other noisy tasks to take me away from this one thing.

Rose Hedge on right

It took three full days to finish pruning the hedge. I was determined to focus and do the best job I possible could.

The first day was difficult. Really difficult. The thorns were sharp and out for blood, my forearm and hands were riddled with holes. The urge to move on to something else and come back to the hedge later on in the day was steady. It pains me to say this, but I was bored.

On the second day, that changed. And it changed largely because I changed my attitude and refocused my attention on the details which had slowly began to appear. For example, pruning the dead branches out of a rose hedge is important because it prevents a variety of fungal diseases from developing or entering the plant. Plus it frees up space inside the plant which is important for air circulation. And pruning a healthy branch at a 45 degree angle just above a node, but away from the inside of the plant, allows for new growth to occur, plus the position of the angle prevents water from entering the branch, that again, might cause fungal growth. I began to remember all of these details and suddenly, this boring, tedious job became more meaningful. Questions popped up that I didn't have answers to, such as why aphids love roses so much? How many species are their? Where do they come from? And what I discovered was that this devilish little insect that draws life from the bud of a rose is interconnected to about a dozen other interesting insects like hover flies, ladybirds and lacewings. Aphids are a vital piece in the complex natural jigsaw that is your garden, and to know them is to tolerate them, if not to love them.

To my amazement, after the third day, my ability to concentrate without being interrupted by outside influences increased ten fold. My attention was back and I could see parts of the system that I had forgotten existed. Sometimes focusing our attention on just one thing for a sustained period of time is exactly what we need in order to respect and fully appreciate the trees living as one organism in a forest of possibilities. And while it's important to be able to see and appreciate both the trees and the forest, we cannot forget that the greatest lessons are often between the two.

For the last week I've carved out one hour to concentrate on one thing. Painting. This is what I've produced. I'm not sure if any of it is good, but it feels good to get lost in the details again.

Opuntia (Prickly Pear)

Italian Cypress

Arroyo

Slow is Good...

Part of the Case Vecchie Garden. It's big. We have Cyprus trees

 Slowing Down in The Garden

At the bottom of the estate lies the Case Vecchie garden, where I spend most of my time pruning, digging, planting, forking, foraging, hauling, cultivating and maintaining the peace. It's a slow process. Weedy terrorist cells like Oxalis officinalis ( family of Wood Sorrels, often confused with clover. Most kids know it as sour grass - small trumpeted yellow flower? you know the one...) keep me occupied.

Garden bed with thyme, lemon and mint

Any gardening guru or plant bible will tell you NOT to rip out Oxalis. Its seed pods are not only designed by nature to explode, but their root systems snap at the slightest provocation. They are the IED's (Improvised Explosive Device) of the plant world. In fact, their physiological structures even looks like tethered explosive devices! As for not ripping it out of the ground? Well, if I carefully separated all of the Oxalis, removing its many fuses by the root, I'd be in Sicily for the next 20 years, in the same garden, disarming the same plant. It's a meditation that requires a slower approach than what I'm used to. It's a good thing. "Weeds" can teach us a lot if we listen. 

Oxalis articulata - Pink Wood Sorrel

 Like all things, gardening is about the cultivation of relationships. And for all its bad press, Oxalis actually has many redeeming qualities. For example, Native Americans used to eat varieties of Wood Sorrel or Oxalis on long journeys as a way to suppress thirst. And sailors would eat the stems during extended voyages as a source of much needed vitamin C. It also belongs to a plant family that contains hundreds of now hybridized cultivars grown as well-behaved, very beautiful, ornamental's. Oxalis articulata or pink wood sorrel, is one of my favorites. It's amazing what we can learn by going beyond surface value judgements. Could be a Oxalis or any other "weed" in the garden, but a small amount of research yields some really interesting facts!
 

Green House Lovin

When I'm not negotiating with the Oxalis, I can be found in our very tiny green house where I've been busy propagating Salvia's from cuttings and planting seeds. It's been so long since I planted anything, I've had to re-learn some of the techniques. I can hardly remember the last time I planted a seed and expected it to grow haha. Common questions like "How deep should the seed be planted?" "How many seeds per hole?" and then I start to panic. What if they don't germinate!? What if they protest and refuse to sprout? The packages say to plant 2-3 seeds per hole.

My creations! Cilantro, Chives & Companion Plants

I plant 6 just in case... And every day for the last two weeks I've carefully inspected my creations, hoping at hints of growth, hints of life.

Finally, yesterday after 10 days (as predicted by the packages) cotyledons have nosed their way through the surface of the potting soil!! Which is more exciting and more stressful then the initial planting! I am now responsible for the life and death of around 50 seedlings....I feel like I'm the lead surgeon in a medical drama where every day I whisper with a furrowed brow, pointing at each sprout " Don't you little f*ckers die on me!" "We can do this....we can do this together! "We have the power, we have the energy!". I don't actually act this out...but the drama inside my head....is real - part zen, part Tony Robbins and part Paul Giamatti (because he brings the kind of intensity I'm conjuring up and I think it's funny). So far so good. Hopefully my little plant buddies will make it to the field this spring. What will be come of these seedlings? Food. Mostly herbs. Mostly delicious. I'm not a huge fan of dill...

Compost bin!

One of my other responsibilities here at Case Vecchie is to help maintain the compost bins. A delicate balancing act, composting requires good sources of nitrogen and carbon. Not too much green material, not too much food waste. Rotation is very important. Once the pile starts cooking and the organisms do the Harlem Shake, the last thing you want is an anaerobic (smelly) pile of rotting waste. Again, this is a process is slow. it takes time for the food and beneficial organisms to mingle, to dance and to cooperate. The result (in theory) is a gorgeous soil mixture that is reused in the garden, adding the nutrients back into the soil. And it's this endless cycle that makes gardening, farming and cultivating so important a concept to grasp. Nothing, not even the Oxalis works in isolation. It's all connected. Mutually inclusive. This begs the question, what lessons could we learn from sustainable relationships in our gardens that could be transplanted to the creation of more sustainable businesses? Cultivating sustainable business solutions, slowly.... A topic for another blog.

Fabrizia on the left, Patrizia in center and Linda Lou on the right

 The Ultimate Remedy to Anti-Aging

Last week the Case Vecchie team had the distinct pleasure of hosting Dr. Patrizia d'Alessio at the school. Patrizia is a long-time friend of Fabrizia and for the last two decade has been busy innovating in the field of molecular therapeutics. After years of research studying steroids and synthetic, anti-inflammatory drugs, she finally decided that it was time to find a new, natural anti-inflammatory molecule.

It took her five, slow, years and a lot of science that I wont get into here, but she found one! It's so top secret, I can't even tell you where this molecule can be found. If the science is correct and the clinical trials on cancer, inflammation and aging are positive, it could be a game changer for people who want a natural way to prevent and treat anti-inflammatory related illnesses. At the Case Vecchie food lab, we brainstormed on ways this molecule could be infused with different types of food, delivering long-term health benefits to people. Dr. d'Alessio is an awesome lady who's committed to helping people live healthier, stronger lives. 

Gelato taking form!

                   Homemade Gelato
 My Italian experience wouldn't be complete if I didn't learn how to make gelato! One evening while we were again, in the food lab (we spend most of our free time there) sou chef, Linda Lou threw together a delicious vanilla gelato using REAL extract (Vanilla pods soaked in alcohol). I was mesmerized by the process. I'd always wanted to learn how to make gelato, so I quickly took note of the ingredients and began fantasizing about what my first batch of gelato would be. How it would taste.

Vanilla with Toasted Wild Fennel Seeds

With vanilla already being my favorite ingredient, that was definitely going to be in the recipe. Finding the second ingredient could have been easy as most flavors go well with vanilla, but I wanted something a little different, something unusual and unexpected. Would wild fennel seeds work? Would the vanilla compliment the fennel? Playing with the flavors in my mind, I had to find out.

Three hours later, I had my first batch of gelato. And it was surprisingly good! Of course I would say that having made it, but seriously, for my first attempt, the combination seemed to work. Even Fabrizia approved. Add a drizzle of vino cotto (delicious cooked wine sauce = divine) and you've got yourself a direct line to God himself.

I was so excited about my creation that the next day I made a new batch, this time using vanilla and madarino jam! Yes, that's right, jam made from mandarins grown in Sicily. I was going for the 50/50 orange creamsicle flavor I had loved so much as a kid. Now, it goes without saying that I'll pretty much eat any ice-cream I produce, but pshh, despite it being a little icy....I think I nailed it. Are they really any good? Who knows...but I feel like all those years of eating weird food combinations, that most of my friends made fun of me for, is finally - slowly - revealing itself in my ice-cream concoctions. For better or for worse! Next on the list is Bergamot extract and Rosemary! 

Whether I am in the garden or I am playing around in the kitchen, the idea of "slow" is slowly re-teaching me how to focus and concentrate. There are no real shortcuts to planting seeds or tilling a plot of land. It's one seed and one step at a time. For a person like myself who's mind happily ebbs and flows, distracted by the tiniest of stimuli, having the grace to be a beginner and move slowly through this experience is teaching me that those small steps add up. For now, I'm perfectly content with slow.