Posts in lunch
Split Pea Soup Memories

And just when I would hit my hunger wall, Dad must have hit his too. He would pull into the parking lot at Petrina’s Diner and it was then that I knew, soon enough, that I would be sated. Why? Saturday was split pea soup day at Petrina’s, and I could taste a cup, or a bowl of pea soup the moment we pulled into that parking lot. As my dad effortlessly rolled the Voyager into a diagonal lined parking space, that was it, I began salivating. My mom, dad and myself, would sit - us 3 - at small table in the center of the diner. I wouldn’t have to withstand mean comments about my weight from my grandfather; we simply ate our prized bowls of Petrina’s pea soup in a silence that was peaceful and holy.

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Pistachio + Pecan Crusted Salmon

I eat salmon at least once a week. Personally, I enjoy it baked in the oven with lemon, salt, pepper and a little extra virgin olive oil. Done. But the men in my life are my muses when it comes to thinking a little bit more creatively about salmon preparation. Thank you Uncle Al and Dad, your picky palates and love for sauces, marinades and crusts inspired this weeknight meal. The combined use of a marinade and crumble on the salmon created a sweet, salty and buttery finish to every bite of fish.

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Turkey Soup For The Soul

A few days after Thanksgiving, there was a turkey carcass sitting in a plastic bag, on the bottom shelf of the 2nd refrigerator in my aunt and uncle’s basement. I opened the door and heard it whisper “Use me. I will make you the most tasty and delicious bowl of soup.” And, so it was. And, so it was true. I removed the turkey carcass from the plastic bag, cleaned out her cavity so there were no more stuffing remains, trimming some fat and gelatinous bits.

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Dad's Potato Pie

When I was growing up there were a few things that my father cooked that were completely unforgettable. Although my mother did the majority of the cooking, when my father participated his signatures were pizza, calzones, stromboli, Sunday sauce, fried eggplant, pasta with beans, incredible ham and cheese omelettes, mind blowing sandwiches and potato pie. Potato pie was often made on a Sunday and served when mom made roast beef or a piece of meat, on the rare occasions that we didn’t have pasta.

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Pan Seared Zucchini with Whipped Lemon Ricotta & Feta

Somehow, at the end of every summer, I end up with an ABUNDANCE of zucchinis in the house. In the month of August, zucchinis are plentiful and inexpensive, hence the attractiveness of overbuying. Sure, I might not be buying much clothing or home goods any more, but somehow overbuying something is still in the addiction cards. I guess it could be worse than zucchini. The seniors in the house love zucchini, but I wanted to do more than pan fry, roast or grill it to serve it as a side or over pasta.

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A Very Nonna Summer: Fried Zucc

During the summer of ‘88 my grandma made my dream come true.  She finally caved at the repeated request (can’t we have a pool?  why can’t we have a pool? there’s so much space in the yard for a pool?) and somehow managed to convince my grandfather that it was a good idea.  We had one of the biggest yards on the block, so much of it was going to waste - you know, like the huge garden we kept, rose bushes, grape vines, the cherry tree.  Get rid of that garbage, we could have a pool!  I was chubby, but man was I stoked at the thought of cannon balls

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A Very Nonna Summer: Pickled Eggplant

Pickling eggplant, preserving tomatoes and sun-drying zucchini were signs that summer was coming to a close in the Corrado household.  Late August through early September my family was purchasing and preserving fresh vegetables in an effort to stock up for cooler weather months.  Even in October, my grandmother’s sandwiches held on to summer. And since I wish to do the same as my grandmother, I went wacky with the pickling in memory of her. No your sandwiches can taste like summer all year long too.

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Mixed Seafood Two Ways: A Quick Dinner Fix

Stepping into a fish market will always prove to be somewhat of a time machine. No matter where I’ve lived or traveled, the fish market is always loud, as loud as crashing waves that pound the sand on the beach with fury. The voices of men that can carry for miles and, that, realistically, do not need to be that loud in a small store. Salumeria’s work the same way. I think men who play with fish and meat are in a similar club, lots of bravado, knife skills and the moving of heavy protein, objects and machinery. I’m kind of also really into it. Men who cook and use their hands.

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Split Pea Soup Smiles

In a celebration of food and friendship, which if you ask me is the me is the main reason to revel in every day we’re blessed to be on this earth, last night I made soup for dinner. Not just any soup, but a soup that harkens the fondest of childhood memories alongside my mother and father in an old world Brooklyn that no longer exists.

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