September Notes

Some news, dinner at The Lost Kitchen, farewell to a friend, and recipes for Eggplant Involtini and Glazed Butter Cake

A September market scene. Illustration by Daniela Bracco

Welcome to Buona Domenica, a weekly newsletter of Italian home cooking and baking. I’m a journalist, cooking teacher, occasional tour guide, and author of eight cookbooks on Italian cuisine.

This week’s newsletter features two recipes: Carla’s Involtini di Melanzane (stuffed eggplant rolls), for all subscribers; and The Lost Kitchen’s Glazed Butter Cake with Vanilla Bean Custard Sauce, for paid subscribers.

Click here to browse through the newsletter archive. If you’re looking for a particular recipe, you’ll find all Buona Domenica recipes—168 and counting—indexed here, ready to download and print—a function for paid subscribers.

If you are able to do so, please consider supporting my work by becoming a paid subscriber. And please click on the heart icon at the top of this post to help spread the word. Grazie!

On to the newsletter…

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Benvenuto Settembre! And welcome back, Dear Readers,

This newsletter has only been on hiatus a couple of weeks, but to me it somehow seems much longer. The mark, I am sure, of a good vacation. Another mark: During the entire week I was in Maine, I flipped open my computer for work purposes a grand total of one time. The rest of the time was spent emptying the Atlantic Ocean of crustaceans (not really—I only consumed one whole lobster and two lobster rolls), wandering around picturesque coastal villages, and exploring Portland, where our son and his girlfriend have just moved.

Fig leaf-infused peach jam

But that was then, this is now, and my kitchen is once again humming. I put up a fresh batch of brown sugar peach jam, this one infused with fig leaves (first time trying this); and a batch of Bread & Butter pickles, a family favorite I’ve been making for 30+ years. Next up: tomato marmalade and peperoni sott’olio. At the farmers’ market, I’ve noticed that apples are beginning to nudge out the peaches, and the first winter squashes are cozying up to the zucchini, so I’m trying to squeeze out all I can from the last of the summer produce.

I’ve also dived back into recipe testing, which brings me to the first bit of news I’d like to share.

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A NEW BOOK IN THE WORKS

Some of you have already guessed this based on my Italy travels this summer. So I’m happy to confirm that, yes, book #9 is underway. It’s too early to get specific, but I can say that considerable amounts of butter and sugar and eggs, plus other quintessential Italian ingredients, will be involved, and I am thrilled about this new project. (If you are new to this newsletter and to my work, you can find out more about my books here.)

The next few months will be a time of intensive recipe testing and writing, so it’s possible that at some point Buona Domenica may temporarily become a biweekly rather than a weekly newsletter. We’ll see how things go and I will keep you posted. In any case, whether every week or every two weeks, I’ll continue to share fresh recipes and longtime favorites, as I’ve done here since publishing my first newsletter in February 2022.

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DINNER AT THE LOST KITCHEN

Crossing the bridge at The Lost Kitchen, Freedom, Maine

Back in March, I, along with many thousands of others, received an email from The Lost Kitchen announcing that they were accepting postcards for the new season. For those of you who have no idea what the previous sentence means, let me explain: The Lost Kitchen is a 40-seat restaurant in the tiny rural hamlet of Freedom, Maine. It has become famous in the last decade or so for a number of reasons. First is the simple, elegant, hyper-seasonal and creative cooking of its chef and founder, Erin French and her team of women cooks. Second is the Netflix TV series documenting Erin’s story and that of the restaurant. And third is the unique way The Lost Kitchen takes reservations: by postcard. If you want to dine there—it is only open Friday and Saturday evenings from May through September—you send a postcard by snail mail (along with tens of thousands of other hopeful souls) and cross your fingers that yours will be picked.

By some miracle, mine was. I am not usually a lucky person, but I did choose a vintage postcard of Rome and I can only guess that is what caught their eye. And so, on August 16, my husband and I found ourselves seated at the island counter, with a clear view of TLK’s fetching white enamel Lacanche range and plating area, in what turned out to be a five-hour dinner, leisurely paced, beautifully orchestrated and executed, and set to a mellow playlist that could have been my very own. Our counter mates were a young couple from Arkansas. Only a barrier of cookbooks and jars of flowers separated the four or us from the action in the small dining room kitchen. It all felt quite magical. The evening started with a fruit shrub, a cold and refreshing vinegary drink served in a mini footed glass; and it ended with a small parade of desserts, including an old-fashioned glazed butter cake, the recipe for which you’ll find below.

Refreshing fruit shrubs at The Lost Kitchen

A few highlights:
* Visiting the wine cellar before dinner to choose wines to accompany the meal.
* Watching Erin man the stove as she cooked the main course, juggling six cast-iron pans in which she perfectly seared bluefin tuna steaks, swaying to music all the while.
* All the estrogen in the kitchen, as the cooks, all women, worked in synchronicity. It was like the opposite of an episode of The Bear.
* Watching the women snip wildflowers from the jars on the counter to use as garnish for the various dishes. By the end of the evening, many of the bouquets were more stems than flowers.

I did post a carousel of photos on Instagram of the courses that comprised the dinner. Click on the image below if you’d like to view them.

domenicacooks

A post shared by @domenicacooks

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FAREWELL TO A WONDERFUL COOK

Carla Tomasi handling a sheet of pasta. Photo from Alice Adams Carosi Instagram feed

I want to acknowledge the loss of a wonderful chef, cooking teacher, and friend, Carla Tomasi, who died last month at age 70 after falling ill. If you’re part of the Italian cooking community on Instagram, chances are you knew Carla. Even if you’d never met her, you knew her through the recipes, wisdom, and opinions she shared, freely and generously, from her kitchen and garden in Ostia Antica, outside of Rome.

To many of us, Carla was “the vegetable whisperer in Rome,” an informal title she wore proudly and often cited as a hashtag in her Instagram posts. She tended an abundant garden and turned what she grew—yes, everything from artichokes to zucchini—into simple, unfussy, but utterly enticing dishes that made you want to head immediately into the kitchen to make them.

In her earlier years, Carla was one of the first women chefs to break into the London food scene in the 1980s, with her Soho restaurant, Frith’s. She was so modest about her background that I did not find this out about her until years after I’d started following her on Instagram.

One of my favorite Carla episodes on Instagram took place a few years ago, when she came across the crass hashtag “f*** your pasta machine.” It was coined by a chef who had gained fame for the hand-rolled pasta he made in his California restaurant (after going to Italy and learning the craft from Italian women, natch). He included the hashtag in all of his posts. Carla was incensed; after all, the pasta machine had been a tool of liberation, making life easier for millions of Italian women of a certain era. She began championing it on her own Instagram feed, inviting her followers to make pasta using their machines. Her aim was not to troll the dude chef; she was genuinely bothered that someone would promote such an ignorant take on pasta making. As one who has dealt with repetitive strain injury for years, I appreciated Carla’s mini crusade, and she and I had numerous private Instagram chats over this episode, and others.

I was lucky to meet Carla twice on visits to Rome. One day, I sat in on a cooking class she was teaching at Latteria Studio, a cooking and food photography space opened by Alice Adams Carosi, a fellow food writer and photographer. One of the dishes Carla taught the class how to make was Involtini di Melanzane, stuffed eggplant rolls, a classic southern Italian recipe. I’m happy she let me share the recipe in my book Everyday Italian. I’ve posted it below as well. That would have pleased her, too.

You can read a tribute to Carla by

Emiko Davies

here.
Riposa in pace, Carla.

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RECIPE: Carla’s Involtini di Melanzane

Many recipes for stuffed and rolled eggplant call for frying the eggplant slices before filling them, but Carla baked hers. It makes for a lighter and more appetizing result—summer comfort food at its best.

Makes 4 main-course or 8 side-dish servings

INGREDIENTS
For the sauce:
3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 clove garlic, lightly crushed
1 bottle (24-ounce / 680 g) tomato passata (purée); or 1 28-ounce (800 g) can whole peeled tomatoes, puréed through a food mill
Fine sea salt
4 basil leaves, torn

For the involtini:
2 large eggplants; 2 pounds (1 kg) total
Fine salt
Extra-virgin olive oil
4 ounces (115 g) mozzarella, cut into small cubes
4 ounces (115 g) scamorza, cut into small cubes (may substitute more mozzarella)
4 ounces (115 g) semi-aged pecorino cheese, or Asiago fresco or another good Italian melty cheese
1 cup (80-100 g) freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

INSTRUCTIONS
1. Make the sauce. Pour the oil into a large saucepan or deep skillet and add the garlic. Set over medium heat and cook for about 2 minutes, pressing down on the garlic to release its flavor. Pour in the tomato passata (watch for spattering oil). Season with 1/2 teaspoon salt, raise the heat to medium-high, and bring to a simmer. Simmer, uncovered, stirring from time to time, for 25 to 30 minutes, until the oil pools to the surface and the sauce is nicely thickened. Taste and add more salt if needed. Stir in the basil.

2. Trim the ends off the eggplants and cut them lengthwise into thin (1/4-inch / 1/2 cm) slices. You should have 8 slices from each eggplant for a total of 16 slices.

3. Salt the eggplant slices on both sides and layer them on a paper towel-lined rimmed baking sheet. Let sit for 1 hour, then pat them dry.

4. Heat the oven to 400° F (200° C). Line two rimmed baking sheets with parchment. Brush the eggplant slices on both sides with olive oil and arrange them in a single layer on the baking sheets (8 per sheet). Bake for 10 minutes; turn the slices over and bake for 10 minutes more, until they are tender and lightly browned. (You can bake them one sheet at a time, or both sheets at once, on racks placed in the top and center of the oven.) Let the slices cool while you prepare the filling. Lower the oven heat to 375° F (190° C).

5. Cut the mozzarella and scamorza (if using) into small cubes. Shred the pecorino (or Asiago) on the large holes of a box grater. Combine the cheeses in a bowl and stir in the grated Parmigiano cheese.

6. Lightly coat an 8-inch by 11-inch (22- by 28-cm) rectangular baking dish with 1 tablespoon olive oil. Spoon about 1/3 cup (80 ml) of tomato sauce into the bottom of the dish. Place a spoonful of the cheese filling on the wide end of one of the eggplant slices. Roll it up and set it in the baking dish, seam side down. Stuff and roll up the remaining eggplant slices and place them in the dish, taking care to reserve about 1/2 cup of the filling. The involtini should fit snugly in the dish. Spoon the remaining tomato sauce over the involtini and top with the remaining cheese.

7. Bake, uncovered, for 30 to 40 minutes, until the filling is oozy, and the top is browned in spots. Let sit at least 5 minutes before serving. Serve hot or warm.

Click on the button below for a printable version of the recipe, a function available to paid subscribers.

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RECIPE: The Lost Kitchen’s Glazed Butter Cake with Vanilla Bean Custard Sauce

The simplicity of this old-fashioned cake is part of its allure. It calls for no fancy ingredients, it’s baked in a loaf pan, and it tastes of home kitchens—of vanilla and buttermilk and, yes, butter. What renders it special is a thickly applied lacquer of vanilla- and almond-laced butter glaze. As you’re brushing it on, you will think it is too much but keep going. Once you bite into a slice of cake you’ll see why—it’s almost like biting into an old-fashioned glazed doughnut.

The recipe comes from the book Big Heart Little Stove, by Erin French, chef and owner of The Lost Kitchen.

Click below for the recipe, available to paid subscribers.

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Thanks, as always, for reading, commenting, subscribing, and sharing.

Alla prossima,
Domenica