Italian Soul.

Most of my reading over this past weekend involved recipes. I dove once again into the Alice Waters and tried my hand at her polenta torte on Saturday. I wasn't thinking and instead of making four cups of soft polenta I made sixteen. Ah, yeah. I read "one cup of polenta to four cups of water" and multiplied the four by four instead of the one by four. Yow! I called a neighbor and offered the extra polenta for their dinner. After spreading about four cups out on a baking sheet and letting it cool and set; West had the brilliant idea of using Christmas cookie cutters and making shapes. Our friends were delighted with our snowman, tree, star and stocking polenta!

I made a simple tomato sauce with olive oil, lots of garlic, and canned crushed tomatoes; then layered the soft polenta with the sauce, fresh mozzerella and parmesan. The mozz was a little rubbery and none of the textures seemed to meld. Next time I would shred the cheese instead of using slices. But all in all not that exciting.

Sunday in the kitchen was far more successful. Started the morning with chocolate chip scones. Whole Foods has their house brand of wonderful dark chocolate mini chunks which look like tiny chocolate bars and they are perfect for baking. My scones are really getting quite good. I've finally learned to not over work the dough. The only way to make them come out perfectly crumbly and scone-y is to just dump the whole mess out onto the counter and sort of push it all together into a really rough circle. Just enough so that it holds together. The first few times I did this it just seemed so wrong. If you can divvie the circle into eight wedges and transfer them to a baking sheet you're golden. The messier the better.

After a warm scone and a second coffee I really hit my stride. Recipe number two was almond-anise biscotti and yes I did toast my own almonds; thank you very much. Some friends are coming for Sunday dinner and I have this in mind to go along with coffee. I also have some truffles on hand (again, Whole Foods house brand and dang are they yummy. They are actually made in France.)

I found an interesting cocktail recipe and so I make ginger-infused simple syrup and stick that in the fridge to chill. I also finely grind crystallized ginger and mix with sugar to dust the glass rims. The prosecco is sitting in the window sill keeping cold (old house!)

Ever since I read La Bella Cucina: How to Cook, Eat and Live an Italian (Viana La Place) I have wanted to institute sort of a standing Sunday dinner where a few close friends are always welcome. It's really tough to keep it going so if I can do it every six weeks or so I'm happy at this point. Maybe after the small fry is older and not so insanely needy. Did I mention through most of my cooking I have an 18-month-old saying "mama. mama. mama." endlessly? Or "watch. watch!" which means he wants to stand on the kitchen stool and "help." This sooo doesn't work for me. Lucky for him he's so cute.

For the last year I've been making my bolognese from a recipe I found in Saveur magazine. It's an article entitled "The Lasagna Lesson" and I guard it with my life. (Along with every other issue going back to January 1999 when I subscribed.) Like most Italian recipes this one begins with the "holy trinity"--onion, carrot, celery. It's not long before the house smells absolutely incredible.

I've got several hours of simmering now so I clean the house ("mama. mama. mama!") and generally straighten up. Throw in a load of laundry, make hot dogs for a late lunch, and swing through the kitchen periodically to stir the sauce. In between I stop to read the Christmas books I brought out of storage today to the boys. This is one of my favorite things about the holidays: since West was born he has gotten Christmas books as gifts and I've picked up those I remember from my childhood. It always seemed weird to me to have them on the regular bookshelf all year so I started putting them away right along with the holiday decorations. (I do this with Halloween and Easter books, too.) Each one has the year written in it and many are inscribed from the giver...mostly by my mother-in-law and I am so thankful she taught me to do this.

When our friends arrive I warm olives on the stove with some slices of garlic, red chile, and orange zest. I put a loaf of olive bread in the oven for just a bit, take it out, slice and slather with goat cheese and then put back in to toast. Sarah heads out to the porch for a chilling bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau (est arrive!) and we get to work on the pasta dough.

I've made pasta several times and it's worked just fine. Better than fine, actually. It's always incredible! (And I'm always so surprised.) Each step is very easy; it's all about texture. So far I've just been making it by hand on the counter. This time I decide to try the KitchenAid stand mixer...Alice Waters doesn't exactly recommend this idea but she does mention it so how bad can it be? So I toss two cups of flour in, beat two eggs lightly and pour them into the mixer bowl...whirrrrrrr. Hmmm. Dust. Really, it's like fine powdery dust. I go back to Alice and reread her comments more carefully this time and see that it says to slowly pour in the eggs while the mixer is mixing. I upend the first batch of dust into the garbage can not wanting to take any chances and just start again. This time I end up with something with a texture I recognize. Before things go too far I dump it out onto the counter and start kneading it together. Still not as perfect as the by-hand method but the job gets done.

Now I put my friends to work with the pasta machine rolling the dough through again and again until it magically transforms and has that incredible elastic feel. It is truly amazing. Why don't I do this more?

From here the pace is frenetic. Layers of clothing begin to be peeled off as we crowd into the small kitchen (four adults, two kids, and two dogs in a 10 x 12 foot kitchen. It's awesome and there is not a drop of sarcasm in there. Or in there either.) and all are kneading, cranking, whisking (I'm making the besciamella to layer into the lasagna), grating parmigiano reggiano or just trying to step over a dog, pick up a kid, or stay out of the way. Before we know it the noodles are dropped into roiling water for all of 10 seconds, the assemblage happens in minutes, and it's in the oven. Just ten minutes to make vinaigrette, (which rocks; thank you, Alice!) and set the table.

Buon appetito!!