Showing posts with label Italian American Festival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Italian American Festival. Show all posts

Monday, September 28, 2015

Of pasta and kitchens and plants and friends

Handsome Son and I went to the annual Italian American Festival at the local park on Saturday, no pix, since all the photogenic aspects were missing this year. No lovely streets laid out with the historic Burg street signs (well, one, lost in a mass of fast food booths), no children's puppet theater, no in person acts interesting to watch, few crafts.  Mainly it was about fast food, and a big midway, with the really good food sort of shoehorned in.  So next year we may rethink this.

However, undaunted by chilly and windy weather, we forged on to find dinner, and had some excellent sausage sandwich, funnel cake, pasta e fagioli, aka pasta fazool, and old fashioned soft icecream with sprinkles distributed by an antique original soda fountain sprinkling machine.  And the best funnel cake I ever had.

The crowds were as happy and nice as ever, despite crowding, and big families with not a single crying kid,  and the family who were leaving as we arrived to eat wiped off the whole picnic table surface for us, since as the grandfather said, my kids were here!  so when we left, we did likewise for our successors.

The pasta e f. was so good I decided to learn to make it.  And since I had the Plethora of Potatoes to deal with, and had made several hundred gnocchi, you can't make a few gnocchi, I had two large bags of them in the freezer (only freezable potato recipe I found), so here was a chance to use some of it up.

So yesterday I got to work,  already had the tomatoes in the freezer, the parsley growing fresh on the patio, the Italian seasoning in the house, courtesy of dear Karen, red pepper seeds, chicken stock in the house, only needed the white beans.  


While I was cooking friend G. showed up to put up the plant hangers he'd promised me to do this morning before he vanishes for three weeks, leaving me to watch his plants.  And commented several times on how good the soup smelled, what was it, etc.  

So after he helped create this lovely effect in my kitchen as seen from the living room, through the pass through




he had the honor of hanging the first plant, since I grew it from cuttings I'd swiped, I mean pruned, from his plant long ago.  Then he packed up his tools, and we processed to his house, he with all the tools, me with a bowl of soup and a hunk of homemade bread for him for later. 

He eats dinner close to midnight, so he saved it for then.  And this morning gave it a good review.  So much so that I think he was putting his name down for the next time I make it..

and here's the soup: Sunday's lunch for me






and Monday's lunch, for the fridge, and it is very good on the second day as well.  




Definitely a good home for the gnocchi. New mantra: when life hands you potatoes, make gnocchi!

Later, just when I was watching The Aristocrats on my tablet, another friend came by, bearing a lovely dish of Indian food she'd just cooked and wanted to share.  She admired the paint job in the kitchen, and said how she'd like to learn about plants, or rather she wants her husband to learn it, and would I show him how to get started.  They're about the age of Handsome Son and are developing into honorary kids to me!

Well, of course I will help him, he's a sweet guy, and her agenda is to get him more among Americans and their ways of talking (yes, I see the irony here) and a little bit more away from Indian groups.  He will be job hunting, and they would like him to move into an American firm if he can, rather than the paternalistic Indian company he's at now.  

But he needs to be a little bit more outspoken and assertive, and I guess she thinks he can develop that around me, learning how to pot up plants!  Or something!  anyway, whatever transpires, I'll be happy to work with him on learning cuttings and planting and developing an indoor garden.  First use, for me, of gardening as a learning tool for assimilation.  I already worked with them on their front area, helping with planting and dividing and identifying what to weed, and he does love it and can tolerate me.

Little did I know what painting the kitchen might unleash.  Next I will be doing the backsplash wall with a faux copper sheet deal, and I hope I won't end up working with a tinsmith on making soup..

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Italian American Festival 2014

When Handsome Son was much younger, our annual day together was the 4H show at the local county park.  Then he grew up and it moved to another location, and we were in urgent need of our annual funnel cake destination.  Last year at the same county park,  this was the Italian American festival and we liked it so much that we went back this year, and found it many times bigger.  I guess a lot of people liked it.

 Almost opening time


The food is a big event at any Italian activity, and there were a huge number of food vendors, mostly cooking on demand and ranging from old fashioned tomato pies (old Trenton doesn't say pizza!) to great cheesesteaks, which though they are a Philly food, are actually wonderful coming from Trenton. 




 Handsome Son patiently modeling for the photographer while planning lunch












And lemonade made from scratch, containing actual lemons.  And the funnel cake. We were too kneedeep in sauce and onions and pasta marinara and peppers and confectioner's sugar to chronicle our food odyssey, but take my word it was good.

Lovely day with crafts and a big set of terrifying rides, 



and a historical display indoors of Italian contributions to the culture


Trevi Fountain in fiberglass!  heh


 Posters of Italian productions

including newspaper clippings about homeboy Alito of the Supreme Court, a local boy, and many musicians and entertainers.  




The local live music was pretty good, too.

And there was bocce with keenly competitive games and players of all ages.  



If I ever have a team, that lady in the green blouse is my first pick.  killer bocce player.







 And the little girl in pink threw a mean ball, too.


And street signs brought from Chambersburg, The Burg in local parlance (Stephanie Plum's stomping grounds, you know?).





And food prep is a big deal in this event, with this great salesman chopping and shredding garlic and ginger and Parmesan and chocolate all over the place, the smells were wonderful.




Oh, and the barkers for the food vendors: where else can you get an announcement "Eggplant Parm to die for!  Eggplant so fresh it's still growing!"

And a huge crowd of happy well fed people in the hot sun and thankfully slumping down in the shade. And as the sun sinks slowly in the west, your photographer does likewise...