Erica De Mane

Recipes:

Sun-Dried Tomato Pesto and Ricotta Bruschetta
Linguine with Anchovies, Parsley, and Sweet Bread Crumbs
Lobster with Tomato and Brandy
Sweet Orange Salad with Pomegranate and Orange Liqueur

I love Christmas Eve for its sense of drama, and lacking much religious conviction I find drama for its own sake a wonderful thing. I have a gay disco boy’s fascination with glitter, lights, and late-night festivity. My more or less traditional virgilia, the Southern Italian Christmas Eve fish dinner, is always served late in the evening. Candles are a very important accompaniment; I like to arrange them in clusters so it almost looks like the apartment is on fire. The customary thirteen fish dishes seem much too much work, and whenever I’ve even come close the preparing that amount of food, I’ve noticed my guests growing uneasy.

Nowadays I make two or three fish dishes. I almost always make a salt cod purée (a recipe for it appears on page 246 of my book Pasta Improvvisata). I serve it without the pasta, and instead pour the purée into a baking dish, drizzle it with olive oil, and stick it in a hot oven for about 10 minutes. I make garlic toast to go with it. In the last few years I’ve served an aperitif of white wine with fresh pomegranate juice with the salt cod; the wine looks and tastes beautiful, but after tasting a white wine­and­Campari drink recently in a restaurant in Barletta, Puglia, I’ve decided to go with that instead this year. It is just as brilliantly pink and cuts through the olive-oily richness of the salt cod nicely.

I’ve fallen in love with anchovies all over again. I’ve found myself eating a whole tin of them when nobody was paying attention, so I’m legitimizing my passion by turning it toward a sit-down first course of linguine tossed with salt-packed Sicilian anchovies, white wine, and lots of parsley, and garnished with sweetened bread crumbs, another Sicilian touch. For the main course, I’m recreating a family lobster recipe from my mother’s memory (lobster simmered in tomatoes and brandy is something her father Errico made for Christmas Eve, but since he died at a very young age, I never got to taste it).

I almost always include some kind of orange salad to cleanse the palate after all the fish. Usually I make it in a savory vein, with olives and onions, but this year I’ve decided on a sweet version seasoned with almonds, orange liqueur, pomegranate, and mint. I hope someone will bring some cookies or some type of dessert. Struffoli would be great, but I’m not going to get it together to make them myself. I’ve asked my sister Liti to make star-shaped cookies finished with gold dust. That will be fabulous, if they ever materialize. I’ve got a 140-proof Centerbe (100 herbs) liqueur I brought back from the Abruzzi last month. It tastes like fire and is actually so high in alcohol it evaporates on your tongue. I can’t taste even one herb in the outrageous stuff, but it is an amazing electric green color. I hesitate to serve it, but it may be a good thing to bring out when I want everyone to go home (coupled with my new Leonard Cohen CD, it should really clear the house).

To keep things moving, especially if you don’t have any kids, I suggest inviting a few animals. Dogs are not known for their love of fish, so they probably won’t be pawing at the tablecloth, but they love barking at lights and they do enjoy music and dancing. My cats appreciate the puréed salt cod very much, and they always get their own little plate of it. And since one of them has no teeth, the creamy texture is just right for her.

Color is important for a merry Christmas, so I try to incorporate red and green into my menu selections. Lobster, Campari, blood oranges, pomegranates, mint, basil, and the evil Centerbe all go well with Christmas lights, and I believe they should make for a very merry time.

I hope this will give you a few ideas for your own Christmas Eve celebration. For more Christmas Eve recipes, see my web recipes for Christmas Eve 2000 and 2001.

Buon Natale, and happy cooking!

Sun-Dried Tomato Pesto and Ricotta Bruschetta

Pâté di pomodori secchi (sun-dried tomato pesto) is a specialty of the Salento area of Puglia, south of Bari. I’ve purchased this condimento there in little jars at various food shops, but it is very easy to make at home, either with your own oven-dried tomatoes or with store-bought sun-dried ones (I show you both ways here). It makes a wonderful pasta sauce or topping for roast chicken or tuna, but since it’s so highly flavored I often serve it as part an antipasto of some kind. My version of this pesto is a bit more jazzed-up than the relatively plain ones I’ve sampled in Puglia. It’s flavored somewhat like a Provençal tapenade.

If you’d like to serve this as a sit-down first course, toss a slightly bitter green salad (arugula, chicory, endive, frisée, or a mix) with extra-virgin olive oil and a tiny splash of vinegar and place two bruschetta on each serving. I think that’s what I’ll do this year. For a richer effect you can replace the ricotta with fresh goat cheese.

I’ve doubled the amount of tomatoes you actually need to oven-dry for this dish, since it’s nice to have some extra on hand for tossing with pasta or using in an antipasto platter.

(Serves 5 or 6 as an appetizer)

For making your own oven-dried tomatoes:

20 or so plum tomatoes, halved lengthwise
Salt
Extra-virgin olive oil

For the pesto:

1 garlic clove, roughly chopped
A small handful of capers
2 anchovy fillets, roughly chopped
A few sprigs of marjoram, leaves only
The grated zest from 1/2 an orange
Extra-virgin olive oil
Freshly ground black pepper
A very tiny splash of grappa

Plus:

1 baguette, cut into thin rounds
About a cup of whole milk ricotta

To make the dried tomatoes: Preheat the oven to 225 degrees. Place the tomatoes, already cut, on a sheet pan. Drizzle on a generous amount of olive oil, season them with salt, and toss with your hands until they’re well coated. Arrange them cut side up and bake for about 3 hours. They will be slightly shriveled but still moist in their centers. Let them cool.

To make the pesto: Place about half of the oven-dried tomatoes in the bowl of a food processor (if you’ve bought sun-dried tomatoes, use about a dozen of the ones that come packed in oil). Add the garlic, capers, anchovies, marjoram, and orange zest. Season with black pepper and add a tiny splash of grappa and a generous drizzle of olive oil. Pulse the mixture a few times until you have a rough paste. Taste it for seasoning (with the anchovies and capers, you shouldn’t need extra salt, but you never really know until you taste it). Pour the pesto into a bowl (you can cover it with plastic wrap and refrigerate it for a day or two, but I prefer to use it the same day for the liveliest taste; in any case, return it to room temperature before serving).

When you’re ready to serve this, toast the baguette slices on both sides, spread them with a dollop of ricotta, and top them with a teaspoon of the tomato pesto. Serve right away.

Linguine with Anchovies, Parsley, and Sweet Bread Crumbs

Slightly sweetened bread crumbs are sometimes used to top pasta con le sarde (pasta with sardines) in Sicily, and I love their sweetness with the oily fish, so I’ve paired them here with anchovies, another rich, pungent fish. Try to find salt-packed anchovies for this dish. Their flavor is superior to that of the oil-preserved variety. Flott is an excellent producer whose salt-packed anchovies are available through Buon Italia importers, at the Chelsea Market in New York, whose number is (212) 633-9090.

(Serves 5 as a first course)

10 salt-packed anchovies
1 pound linguine
Extra-virgin olive oil
5 garlic cloves, very thinly sliced
1 fresh medium hot chile, minced, using the seeds if you like some heat
A generous splash of dry white wine
A large handful of flat-leaf parsley leaves, lightly chopped (at least 1/2 cup)
The grated zest from 1 lemon
Salt, if needed

For the bread crumbs:

Extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup homemade dry bread crumbs
A generous pinch of sugar
Salt

To prepare the anchovies, run them one at a time under cool water, and starting from the head end, work the fillets free from the backbones with your fingers. After doing a few, you’ll get the hang of it (it doesn’t matter if you mutilate a couple, since they’re going to be dissolved in the sauce anyway). Let the fillets soak in a bowl of cool water for about 15 minutes to remove excess salt, and then drain them and pat them dry.

Make the bread crumbs: Heat about 2 tablespoons of olive oil in the small skillet over medium heat. When hot, add the bread crumbs, season with a generous pinch of sugar and a little salt, and sauté until crisp and just starting to turn light golden. Transfer to a small serving bowl.

Set up a large pot of pasta-cooking water, add a generous amount of salt, and bring it to a boil. Add the linguine, giving it a stir to make sure it doesn’t stick together.

In a skillet large enough to hold all the linguine, heat about 1/2 cup of olive oil over medium flame. Add the garlic, anchovies, and minced chile, and sauté until the garlic is fragrant and the anchovies have dissolved, about 2 or 3 minutes only. You don’t want the garlic to brown very much; lightly golden is best. Add a splash of white wine and let it bubble for a few seconds.

When the linguine is al dente (I like it very al dente for this dish), drain, leaving a bit of water clinging to it, and add it to the skillet. Add the parsley and lemon zest and toss well over medium heat for about a minute. Add a drizzle of fresh olive oil and give it a taste. (With all the anchovies, you probably won’t need extra salt.) Pour the linguine into pasta-serving bowls and top each one with a generous sprinkling of the bread crumbs. Bring the remaining bread crumbs to the table.

Lobster with Tomato and Brandy

I’ve never understood wanting to immerse sweet, delicate lobster in an intensely spicy tomato sauce, fra diavolo style; it seems to defeat the lobster’s reason for being (or for eating, at least). A Christmas Eve dish my mother’s father made was lobster simmered in a rich, boozy tomato sauce with no chiles. Here is my version, as recalled by my mother.

For the best texture, I should be adding raw, butchered lobster to this sauce, but after working in a restaurant where I was ordered to chop cratefuls of live lobsters, sometimes a hundred at a time, and bursting into tears on one occasion at the overwhelming carnage of the task, I don’t think I can ever butcher even one of them again. Here I’ve boiled them, whole, until they’re about half cooked, and then I’ve chopped them up. It is admittedly a compromise solution, but it works well to achieve the velvety, tender texture you want for the dish.

To make the lobster just a little diavolo, leave out the nutmeg and add one or two dried, crumbled red chiles to the skillet when you add the garlic.

(Serves 5 as a main course)

Extra-virgin olive oil
3 garlic cloves, very thinly sliced, plus a whole garlic clove for the bruschetta
2 bay leaves, fresh if possible
A few generous gratings of nutmeg
A tiny pinch of ground clove
Sea salt
2 35-ounce cans diced plum tomatoes, lightly drained (Muir Glen is my favorite brand)
1/2 cup low-salt canned chicken broth (or a very light fish broth)
Freshly ground black pepper
5 live 1 1/2­pound lobsters
Four tablespoons unsalted butter
A small wine glass of brandy or cognac
A few sprigs of tarragon, the leaves lightly chopped
A generous handful of basil leaves, lightly chopped, plus a few whole sprigs for garnish
A large handful of pine nuts, lightly toasted
I baguette

Set up a very large lobster pot full of water and bring it to a boil.

Meanwhile, in a large skillet heat about 3 tablespoons of olive oil over medium flame. Add the garlic and sauté briefly, just until it gives off its aroma, about a minute or so. Add the bay leaves, nutmeg, clove, the tomatoes, and the chicken broth, and cook uncovered at a lively simmer for about 5 minutes (you want the sauce to stay fresh and brightly colored, so don’t let it go any longer). Season with salt and ground black pepper. Turn off the heat.

Add about 2 heaping tablespoons of sea salt to the water, let it return to a hard boil, and drop in the lobsters. Cover the pot and boil for 5 minutes (they will be almost half cooked). Lift the lobsters from the water and let them cool enough so you can handle them. Pull off their claws and hit each one with a hammer to crack it (cover the claws with a kitchen towel first so shell fragments don’t fly all over the place). Do this over a large plate or something that will catch all the juices. Cut the bodies in half lengthwise, also making sure no juices get away. Add all the lobster juices to the skillet, and stir them into the sauce.

In a very large skillet that will hold all the lobster pieces and the sauce (or in two skillets), melt the butter over medium high heat. Add the lobster pieces (shell still on), placing the bodies flesh side down, and sauté them in the butter for about a minute. Season with a pinch of salt and more generously with black pepper, and pour on the brandy or cognac, letting it bubble until it is almost evaporated. Pour on the tomato sauce, and stir to blend it. Turn the heat down to low and let everything simmer for about 5 minutes, just to finish cooking the lobster and blend the flavors. Turn the lobster pieces over and add the chopped tarragon and the basil. The sauce should be a little brothy and studded with chunks of tomato. Taste for seasoning and add a generous drizzle of olive oil.

Make bruschetta by toasting the baguette slices on both sides, rubbing them with the whole garlic clove, and brushing them with olive oil.

Place the lobster pieces in a wide, shallow serving bowl, and pour the sauce over them. Sprinkle with the toasted pine nuts, and garnish with basil sprigs. Serve hot, accompanied by the bruschetta.

Sweet Orange Salad with Pomegranate and Orange Liqueur

Here’s a sweet version of the popular orange salads found throughout Sicily, which are more often assembled with savory additions such as olives, onions, olive oil, and black pepper. This sweet salad can serve as a segue between main course and dessert or as a dessert in its own right. Use raisins if pomegranates are out of season or hard to find.

(Serves 4 or 5)

7 oranges, peeled and cut into thin rounds (a mix of blood oranges and regular ones looks lovely)
A handful of whole blanched almonds, toasted and roughly chopped
The seeds from about 1/2 a medium pomegranate
A pinch of salt
A generous splash of orange liqueur, such as Grand Marnier
A handful of mint leaves, left whole
Powdered sugar

About a half hour before you’ll want to serve the salad, arrange the oranges on a nice-looking serving dish. Scatter on the almonds and the pomegranate seeds. Drizzle on the orange liqueur. Let this sit, unrefrigerated, to develop flavor. Right before serving, season the oranges with a pinch of salt, scatter on the mint leaves, and dust everything lightly with powdered sugar.