Comfort Food

Wednesday August 26, 2020 was a shitty day, shitty even by the standards of 2020, the year that has redefined the term annus horribilis for most of us, perhaps Queen Elizabeth excepted. On Wednesday afternoon, at 91 years of age after years of health struggles, Ann's mother Mary Chiappetta died of natural causes in the ICU at Arlington Hospital Center in Virginia after a three-week stint on a respirator. Although we expected it, our inability because of COVID to travel from Oregon to be there with her made a bad experience so much more horrible for us, especially for Ann.

We feel grief at her loss, torment at not having been able to say goodbye at the end, and guilt born of not being there for her. Compounding these emotions is the question of how we can possibly in good conscience have a real funeral service to honor her life under these pandemic conditions. The adjective shitty that I used above does not even come close to capturing the depth and rawness of these emotions.

For comfort in horrible times, we turn as so many do to comfort food. Tears streaming down her face and between racking sobs, Ann implored me to cook her something comforting. After some discussion we arrived at pasta, a baked pasta with tiny meatballs. Ultimately, I think Ann was beyond caring what I made, but what is more comforting for a good Italian girl than pasta?

As I was going out the front door to the store to pick up groceries for the next ten days, including supplies for the pasta, Ann yelled after me, "Get beer!" "No shit!" I remember muttering to myself. And so in the fog of a stunned mood, I vaguely recall going to the store pretty much on autopilot to get ingredients: tomatoes, Italian parsley, ziti, ground pork, mozzarella, and ricotta.

Baked Ziti and Meatballs

I won't lie and deny that I bought some really good beer, a couple of craft hazy IPAs, and I also won't deny that cooking interrupted the beer drinking at times. It was just that kind of day. Through the fog of grief and beer, I managed somehow to take some passable photos. I also won't deny that writing this is my way of trying to process and come to grips with the hurt. Here's a quick primer on how to make a baked pasta with meatballs.

Meatball Spices

I've been through making meatballs several times on this blog, so just a refresher here. I always start by mixing the herbs and spices with the liquid ingredients so that they get evenly distributed in the the meat. For a pound of ground meat, I would use one egg, about a tablespoon each of basil and oregano, 3-4 garlic cloves, a teaspoon of Kosher salt, and a large pinch each of black pepper and red pepper flakes. To this, if I am doing restaurant-style meatballs, I'll add a half a cup of heavy cream, but at home, I use chicken stock instead.

Meatball Mix

After mixing the spices well into the liquid ingredients, in goes the meat, in this case ground pork, because pork makes awesome inexpensive meatballs. Veal is amazing, but who can afford it or even find it at the store? I don't care for beef meatballs and so I avoid beef and the so-called meatball mix of a third pork, veal, and beef. I made sure to break the meat apart gently before folding it with my hands into the liquid and spice mixture. Then I asked my trusty assistant to sprinkle in a handful of panko. As I mixed it in, I could feel that it wasn't enough to bind the mixture, so Ann added another handful.

I let the mixture stand for a few minutes before rolling it into small meatballs. This rest period gives the panko time to absorb the liquid and firm up the mixture.

Blender Marinara

While the meat mixture was resting, I made a batch of blender marinara, the easiest sauce ever. Into the blender, I dumped two 28-ounce cans of diced tomatoes in juice, two minced cloves of garlic, a tablespoon of dried basil, and a teaspoon of Kosher salt. Ten seconds of blending and presto!

We never kept marinara on hand at the restaurant, even though parents often ordered it for their kids. It was simple enough to whir it up in the blender on the fly and have it to the table nicely warm, but not screaming hot, within four minutes using par-cooked pasta.

I stressed to all my cooks that time was of the essence because no parent can relax with a hungry child at the table. I always sent the pasta out warm, not hot, so that the kids, who invariably shoved their hands right in the plate, would not burn themselves and so they could eat right away without fretting and fidgeting while their dinner cooled. Then mom and dad could relax over a glass of wine while we cooked their food.

If you will indulge me one more aside apropos of marinara, canned tomatoes is something I am really picky about. I will buy store brand or private label of some vegetables (artichokes, beans, chickpeas, etc.), but I will not risk my tomato-based dishes on generic tomatoes. I am brand loyal with tomatoes because I want consistent product in the can, each time that I open one. Sometimes that does not happen with packer tomatoes.

I want consistently ripe tomatoes without green pieces, cores, and skin, and with a consistent ratio of flesh to juice. Back east at home, I used Cento brand and out here, I have settled on S&W, a Del Monte brand. Yes, they cost more, but I won't risk my food for a few cents. It's not the brand name that matters to me; I care only that each time I open the can, I get the same product as every other can that I have opened.

Raw Meatballs Ready for Oven

Cooked Meatballs

Although you can fry meatballs before braising them in sauce, I'm fairly lazy and just put the raw meatballs into the sauce. These small meatballs took about an hour or so in a moderate oven to braise. Larger meatballs take longer. If you are uncertain about whether the meatballs are done, they should be at an internal temperature of 160F, 165F if they contain poultry.

Partially Cooked Pasta, Italian Parsley

Once the meatballs were done, I par-cooked two pounds of ziti to about two-thirds done, then mixed the drained pasta with fresh Italian parsley, the meatballs, about 3 cups of ricotta, and enough marinara (just shy of a quart, so about a quart leftover) to coat everything. After seasoning with salt and a bit more red pepper flakes, I put the mix into a baking dish and topped it with grated mozzarella.

Ziti Before Topping with Mozzarella

Baked Ziti

The oven was still going from baking the meatballs, so it didn't take too long to get a nice crust on the cheese, perhaps 35-40 minutes. After the baked pasta cooled for the better part of an hour, I sliced it into squares as you see in the very first picture above and we devoured it. For the sake of comfort, we ate far more of the pasta than we should have and drank more beer than we should have. But no regrets: what else to do on the shittiest day of 2020, the year that is proving to be the shittiest of our lives?

RIP Mary Chiappetta. You were sharp as a tack, funny, personable, frugal to a fault, direct, opinionated, not one to be on the wrong side of, and as big a fan of me as I was of you. I was privileged to be your son-in-law. In trying to find humor amidst the at times overwhelming sadness, I hope that wherever you are, there are no turkeys and baby goats on your bed. And may 2020 not become any more horrible.

Virginia Whirlwind

We took a whirlwind one-week trip back to the East Coast, two days of which were spent traveling, leaving just five days to see Ann's mother, go to Ellie's graduation, visit Carter in Morgantown, and to see our friends.

Here are some photos from the trip. There's a lot of beer involved in these photos. Ann's mom is in a nursing home and not doing well, the source of much consternation. It took a lot of beer to get through the days where she did not recognize her own daughter and son-in-law.

One of our Favorite Portland Breweries

We started off by spending the night in a hotel at PDX because of our early morning departure and desire to avoid the heinous rush hour traffic. We stopped by Culmination Brewing, one of our favorite East Portland breweries on the way for a bit of dinner and a couple of beers.

Mad Fox Brewing, Falls Church, VA

After a long and grueling flight and dealing with DC rush hour traffic on the other end, we ended up in a brew pub in Tysons Corner. Not only was it yuppie mating hour at the noisy overcrowded bar, the beer sucked by Portland standards. Ultimately, we found Mad Fox brewing in Falls Church as a place with decent beer, as an escape from the drama of dealing with Ann's mother.

Rosé at Linden Vineyards

After a couple of days of seeing to Ann's mother and her house, we took a drive out west on I-66 to visit with Jim Law at Linden Vineyards. Shari was very kind to bring us a glass of 2018 rosé to enjoy on the deck while we waited for Jim to come in from the vines. He was gracious enough to spend a few minutes chatting, but it was clear that he needed to get back to the vineyard, so we took our leave after soaking in the landscape that we love so much.

It was pretty interesting that while talking with Jim, we met a young guy who works at another local Willamette Valley winery and with whom I had corresponded via email, but had never met in person. It is truly a small world.

I Never Get Tired of This View at Linden

From Linden, we made the short drive north to visit with Jim and Betsy Dolphin at Delaplane Cellars, just months before they would sell the property and retire to Florida. Jim was just starting on blending trials when we arrived. Suffice it to say that he never got to blending trials, especially after Betsy showed up and we started cracking bottles. Jim had previously invited us to go out to dinner with them, but we had to demur because of a very early morning departure for Charlottesville and Ellie's graduation.

Jim Dolphin at Delaplane Cellars

Lemonade from Lemons

2018 was a horrible year in the vineyard with feet of rain playing havoc on the grapes. Many winemakers focused on making rosé as a way to salvage something from a crap year. Jim was showing off his label poking fun at the whole disastrous situation. Betsy also opened a bottle of her special ICOE cuvée. ICOE is fitting for Betsy: In Charge Of Everything. Traffic going back in to McLean was hellish with an accident blocking the Beltway. Miserable.

My Spirit Animal

And sure enough, Saturday morning came very quickly. We left very early in the morning from McLean to make the two and a half hour drive to Charlottesville. Although we left early to beat the traffic and to find a good place to park, when we arrived at the Grounds for graduation, it was teeming and the lines to get in were very long.

Lillie met us and went ahead to save seats for us while we went across the street in search of coffee. Wouldn't you know that there is a Starbucks in the bottom of Newcomb Hall, a vast change from the days when I was there. Though not a fan of Starbucks, I was in need of coffee and Ann in need of a little breakfast.

Waiting for Ellie to March

The morning started out warm, humid, and cloudy, the cloud cover being the only thing that kept the day even moderately comfortable. About 30 minutes before the ceremony the sun popped out and made things truly miserable, especially for the kids in their black gowns. Unlike when Rita Dove kept us entertained with a short and focused speech at Lillie's graduation, Ellie was blessed with one of the worst commencement speeches I have ever heard—long, disjointed, rambling, and largely self-congratulatory. Finally, graduation wrapped up and we all walked a half a mile or more to the theater building where Ellie's diploma ceremony was to be held.

It was a long mile and a half walk for me in the blazing sun to retrieve our car and meet the rest of the gang who Ubered to a local brewpub for lunch.

Parched After Graduation in the Heat

Ann and I stayed with Lillie, Ellie, and her friends after lunch to have a final beer at the bar, before we headed back to Northern Virginia late Saturday. Sunday, we headed out to see Jeff and Kelly White at Glen Manor Vineyards. We spent a beautiful afternoon with them before heading back to McLean.

I Also Never Tire of This View at Glen Manor Vineyards

We got back late and then Monday went to see Ann's mom. We made plans for a late dinner with Ann's cousin Chris. Surprisingly, Mary wanted to go along with us and we were happy to have her with us. She even managed a tiny sip of Ann's beer.

Mary Tasting Ann's Beer

For our last full day, we drove out to Morgantown to see Carter, taking a ten-minute stop at the Farmers Market in Winchester to see Beth, Mark, Jessica and the other vendors. We arrived in Morgantown mid-afternoon and got the grand tour of his grungy frat house. We could tell we were cramping his style, but ultimately he decided to go to the brewpub across the street from our hotel with us. The Iron Horse Tavern has a great local beer selection and pretty decent food as well. I was really happy that the pub featured ales from Stumptown Ales in Davis WV, which I believe is my benchmark brewery for craft beer on the East Coast.

Beer Board, Iron Horse Tavern, MorgantownWV

Back to Northern Virginia with 1200 miles on the odometer completed the final leg of this whirlwind trip to Virginia. The flight from Dulles to PDX was routine. After driving from the airport to the house, it was good to have the trip behind us.

Robert N. Chiappetta, 1927-2016

A Wisconsin Boy and His Beer

Although the date on this post is the 16th of January, I backdated it. A lot. It's almost the first of February as I write this. I just couldn't bring myself to write this post any sooner and even now, I'm struggling to get the words out. It's taken me a half an hour just to commit these few sentences to virtual paper, so raw still are my emotions.

I have been blessed to have had two great and wonderful fathers-in-law. Both have now passed on from this life and because of my profession, I feel cursed to have been unable to attend either funeral. It is times like this that make me hate this profession that requires me to carry on while others celebrate, relax, meet, and even grieve. It is times such as these that make me feel less than human.

But, carry on we do, us chefs; even with heavy hearts we do what we do best: we feed people. It was a foregone conclusion, at least in my mind, that I would provide the food for the reception after Bob's funeral. It's what I do: I feed people. And in my own way, this was my tribute to Bob.

After the funeral in McLean on Saturday the 16th, we held that reception for close family at our house in Winchester. The Chiappettas are not a small clan; they are the prototypical sprawling Italian herd of a family. Bob was the last surviving of ten siblings, each of whom had many children and so on: they took their admonishment to be fruitful quite literally. Their tree has so many branches that few of them are certain how they are related to the others. We had at least 50 of them in attendance, including about 20 children. I had hoped to have a bunch of people pictures for this post but I was too busy playing host and welcoming everyone to our home. So sadly, all I have are photos from the setup, before everyone arrived.

And I finish this with the best photo that I ever took of Bob. Something about him sitting there on a beautiful spring day dozing in the sunshine speaks to me. Bob, I wish you spring days and naps wherever you are now.


A Sad Sunday

Life around our house has changed recently and painfully. Ann's father Bob suffered a massive stroke Sunday a week ago that has left him hospitalized and incapacitated. Dealing with all the emotions and issues has left us all trainwrecks, Ann most of all because she has borne the brunt of caring for her mother and staying with her father, wrangling with hospitals, doctors, and insurance providers. It is so new and still so raw that I'm not sure I can write about it; I'm merely going through the motions here at the keyboard.

This Sunday was the first time that I was able to go see him in the hospital in Fairfax. And we took Carter too, the Carter who had been asking to go during the week. He did some growing up on Sunday. Before we left, I insisted that we all eat breakfast, not knowing what the day would hold for us and when or if we would eat again.

Caramelized Onion and Pancetta Frittata with Cheddar

I rummaged the refrigerator and found a small piece of pancetta, an onion, some cheddar cheese, and some eggs. In no time, I had a caramelized onion and pancetta frittata in the oven. Carter and I ate it. Ann did not. I don't blame her. I was just going through the motions myself.

On the drive back home from Fairfax—we decided to leave before dark—we discussed dinner, no doubt mainly to take our minds off, however momentarily, the elephant in the room. Ann mentioned that she had taken some ground turkey out of the freezer. What to make with ground turkey? I've never worked with it before, but it behaves like most other lean ground meat.

We discussed a bunch of options: chili, meatballs, meatloaf, etc. But when things get rough for Italians, Italians go for pasta. Ann was pretty firm in her desire for meat sauce with pasta, so we stopped by the store on the way home and grabbed some tomatoes, some cream, and some pasta.



Rigatoni with Turkey Sauce

This meat sauce I make, while really good, is not a classic ragù alla bolognese which I made for years before settling in on making meat sauce the way I prefer it and that way I prefer it is more Southern, more akin to ragù alla napoletana. My meat sauce I usually make with cubed meat that cooks until it shreds on its own rather than with ground meat, but I am no stranger to ground meat sauce, which according to many authorities is the proper form of meat in a ragù. Ah whatever, this is my blog and my dinner and I'll do it however I please.

Here are my tricks for making meat sauce with ground meat:

Develop a great fond. Fond is a French word meaning many things but bottom most of all, and in a culinary context, the layer of brown bits accumulating on the bottom of a pan. In a heavy bottom pan, start by browning the meat. Once it is browned, remove 90 percent of the meat from the pan and continue cooking the remaining ten percent. Cook until all the water in the juices evaporates and a heavy fond appears on the bottom on the pan. The fond should not be burned but it should be thick and it should not scrape off readily.

Add the vegetables to the pan at this point. For a simple sauce like this one, I use only onion. For a more complex and more traditional bolognese, I use onions (or leeks), carrots, and celery. Add more oil if necessary; you can always take it back off the top of the sauce later as it simmers. Add some dried basil at this point. Basil is fairly oil soluble and it renders better flavor (says I) when it is cooked in the oil rather than in the water-based sauce. Cook the vegetables, stirring frequently, until they are becoming translucent. Most of the fond will remain stuck to the bottom of the pan.

Deglaze the pan with a good shot of dry white wine. I am firmly of the opinion that meat sauce is better made with white wine than red wine. Scrape vigorously to get all the browned bits of fond off the pan and into the sauce.

Add a bit of tomato puree, maybe a couple cups per pound of meat, but remember, you are making meat sauce, not tomato sauce. Add a splash of heavy cream, say a half a cup per pound of meat. Many recipes call for milk. It's cream for me. I want the cream in the pan early on so that it caramelizes with long slow cooking. Add enough meat stock or water to just cover the meat: stock is naturally better but if you have built a good fond, you can get away with water if you have no stock.

Let it cook. Meat sauce takes a long time to mellow and caramelize and become that awesomeness that you seek. It takes a minimum of 90 minutes and four hours is better. Stir occasionally and be mindful of the liquid level. You want a sauce that is mostly meat with enough liquid to make it fluid. You may have to add more liquid as it cooks to keep it from scorching. Use a low flame, naturally.

Season towards the end and if it needs a splash more cream, splash it.

And that's it. It takes a long time to develop a good fond and an even longer time for the flavors to caramelize and coalesce into that luxuriousness called meat sauce. It's very simple but it requires a lot of patience.

And so we wolfed down big steaming bowls of rigatoni (Don't even go Bolognese on me and start talking about tagliatelle; I'm a thick-cut, no egg, dried pasta guy.). We were hungry after waiting for hours for the sauce to cook. And so we ate, but without a lot of joy. It was more going through the motions. What a sad Sunday.

Thanksgiving 2014

And another Thanksgiving is in the books, for Ann and me, our 6th, this one a good bit smaller than in years past. But though it was smaller, it is always a pleasure to gather with friends and family at the table to celebrate another year. It was really easy this year. With it snowing on Wednesday, there wasn't any business at the restaurant and I was able to prep most of the meal at work, letting us go slow and relax on Thanksgiving itself.

Ann and her Parents

Who is That Photo Bombing the Girls?

Appetizers: Turkey Rillettes, Galantine, and Cornichons

A Really Nice Right Bank Bordeaux

Ann Always Sets a Beautiful Table



Apple Cider-Brined Turkey Thighs Only This Year; No White Meat for Us

Ann's Bread and Saltine Cracker Dressing

Ann's Bistro Mash: Half Sweet Potatoes, Half Red Skin Potatoes

Sweet and Sour Brussels Sprouts with Pork Belly

The Obligatory Cranberry-Orange Sauce

Sweet Potato Tart with Cassis Cream and Black Walnut Streusel

And a 1991 Port to Finish off the Meal

Carter's Birthday

Sunday, Carter's Birthday, is one that we will probably never forget. His 15th birthday was a day that he chose to show his true teenage colors in front of friends and family. By way of extreme contrast, it was a beautiful day outside, our gardens are in full summer bloom, and we had great food and a good visit with Ann's parent's Mary and Bob.



A Rare Smile

Despite his being the rear end of a horse for 99% of Sunday, I actually caught Carter with a smile on his face.




Baba Ganoush

For an appetizer, Ann asked me to make baba ganoush from three small eggplants that we had in the cooler, so I did. I haven't made baba ganoush in so long that I had almost forgotten how simple and delicious it is!

Ann Assembling BLTs

When Ann asked Carter what he wanted to eat for his birthday, I don't think either of us were expecting the answer to be BLTs. Steak, perhaps, or pizza, more likely, but a BLT? Never! How good is a great BLT like the one below?

Glorious Eats!

Carter Asked for This Cake

And now, so that we can finish on a happy note, here are some photos from my stroll around the gardens on Sunday morning.

Echinacea

Volunteer Sunflowers

Volunteer Butterfly Bush

It's Finally Hibiscus Season

Bumblebees and Hummingbirds Love Anise Hyssop

Dinner Plate Sized (see how tiny the bumblebee looks?)