Too tired to cook/cooking for yourself

Ricotta and anchovy tart, crunchy salad and caramel blood oranges

Things have been so busy over here lately opening Enoteca Marilu and getting my new cookbook off to print (last Thursday! Woohoo!) that I haven’t had time to do anything else, let alone think about what’s for dinner, when we are at our most tired. I mostly open the freezer and thank my past self for freezing leftovers — nonna’s ragu, farro soup, cooked rice or chicken stock (this quick ramen is often on high request) from when I had more time — or having impulse-bought frozen dumplings from my Chinese grocer (did you know about dumpling salad?

Hetty Lui McKinnon

is a genius, this simple dish has long been a life saver for me, like so many of Hetty’s dishes!) and I am so grateful to be living in the land of pasta — the easiest dinner of all.

But lately I’ve been feeling so very blah about cobbling together leftovers (as opposed to when I have time and energy, when I relish the challenge of transforming leftovers and making them not only appealing but even better than the original), eating the same thing or just struggling to get a meal together.

I’m so lucky that I have a partner who cooks all the time and also cooks so well — Marco if you read this, don’t worry, I love, love, love everything you cook! I do, it’s like I live with a personal chef most of the time. But like everybody, we have very different needs and cravings, food wise. In fact, what I often think makes things so great is that we have such different cooking styles that when we balance our cooking at home (he does lunch, I do dinner), we get a mix of things that satisfies everyone. But lately, it’s been Marco does lunch, and I just throw together whatever seems edible by dinner time - sometimes Marco will come to the rescue and do dinner too (thank goodness!) but the balance has been thrown off.

I am just really craving cooking for myself.

You may know this feeling too, whether you cook for your family or for a living or for a partner — when you spend so much time cooking for someone else and cooking mostly for someone else’s needs and tastes but are too tired (or too in the minority!) for things you want to eat yourself.

I get to a point sometimes where I just need to clear the afternoon and cook something for me.

This ricotta and anchovy tart is something I made recently because I just have had no time lately to cook the way I want to but I really wanted something that I love to eat — because as we know, food is not just fuel, but it is a source of total and utter joy and this is a matter of self care! So I took a (pre-bought) puff pastry, filled it with some incredibly creamy ricotta, added some fresh mozzarella cheese and anchovies and baked it. My first thought as I impatiently bit through that too-hot slice was, I have to do this more often.

No, the kids didn’t eat this… but I didn’t make this tart for them, I made this just for me. A whole tart all for myself, which I pulled out for a lunch, cold (like the slice above; it’s just as irresistible), and even had for breakfast one morning — why not? It didn’t take much time or effort but the satisfaction is brought me was huge.

These recipes below just made me so happy. Even if you don’t make these exact dishes, maybe this will inspire you to make something for yourself that you just really love, especially if it’s been a while.

Ricotta, mozzarella and anchovy tart

So this just happens to be a combination of some of my favourite things. If you’re not an anchovy worshipper like me, you could use literally anything else. Vegetables would be great in its place — asparagus is making itself seen over here now, pumpkin would be wonderful if you’re in the southern hemisphere. Regular old spinach (and perhaps something like gorgonzola or feta in place of the mozzarella) will do too. In the summer I’ll be adding halved cherry tomatoes (or hey, maybe sundried tomatoes, does anyone else use them? Marco is a huge fan). Or maybe just leave the anchovies off? Chopped herbs or grated lemon zest in the ricotta go really well (I tell you, I was just too tired to grate the lemon zest. But it’s good), or add a sprinkle of breadcrumbs followed by a dash of olive oil over the top for a super crisp top.

I used a small tart pan (20 cm diameter) since it was just me. For this size, you need:

• 150 grams fresh ricotta

• 1 egg

• a handful of grated parmesan cheese

• salt and pepper

• puff pastry sheet

• 4 or 5 small, fresh balls of bocconcini di mozzarella, sliced in half

• 8-10 anchovy fillets preserved in oil

Heat the oven to 180°C (350°F). Combine the ricotta, egg and parmesan (and any extras like herbs or lemon zest if using) until smooth, season with salt and pepper. Lay the puff pastry onto the tart case and trim the edges to leave a slight overhang, then fill with the ricotta. Top with the mozzarella pieces and anchovy fillets as you like. Bake for about 30 minutes or until the cheese is golden brown and melted and the pastry is golden and flaky. Delicious warm or cold.

Coleslaw-ish salad

I made a sort of coleslaw-like crunchy salad to go with the tart — it’s a no recipe salad, just all the crunchy things I had in the vegetable drawer. I noticed I’ve been craving crunch as I’ve made a variation of this three times this week already: red cabbage, wild fennel, some purple carrots, red onion, all sliced thin and seasoned with olive oil, red wine vinegar, a touch of mustard and mayonnaise. If you have radishes, green apple, cucumbers or celery or anything else like that to add thinly sliced, even a handful of walnuts, they would all go well in a salad like this. Lemon juice instead of red wine vinegar works too.

Homemade rough puff

If I had time, homemade pastry would make this infinitely better — I’d do it the way Tessa Kiros makes her fantastic tomato tart (also a favourite tart but it’s one for the height of summer when you have excellent tomatoes as the topping is nothing but these with some thyme leaves).

She combines 125 grams of flour and the same of chilled butter, rubbed together with a pinch of salt and enough iced water to bring the dough into a rough ball. Roll it out (on a floured surface if you need) into a rectangle, then fold as if you’re folder a business letter (does anyone send even business letters anymore?). Roll out again and repeat this 4 or 5 times then cover and chill it for about 30 minutes. Then you can use it — roll to a thin pastry and leave the borders a little higher than you think you need them, it shrinks a bit. Her full recipe is here (with many great memories of the book tour we did together in 2019!).

Caramel blood oranges

My new favourite dessert. How did I only discover this so late in the blood orange season? So late in life?! Blood orange slices dressed simply in caramel — so simple and so, so good. I happened to read about this on Instagram, it literally flew past my feed and now I cannot remember who posted it (please do tell me if you know) but I remember seeing people saying this is a very old fashioned dessert and reminded them of their mothers or grandmothers who would serve it at Christmas. Well, it needs to make a come back.

I sliced the oranges (I’m sure it’s just as nice with regular oranges) and laid them on a plate and then over the burner, poured maybe 60 grams of sugar or so onto a small (very clean, there should no trace of grease!) pan and added a couple of tablespoons of water. I let that melt over a low heat - watching carefully but not stirring or touching it (ok, I swirled the pan a little but that’s it). Just let it melt and it should spread through all the sugar and then colour quite quickly. Watch it like a hawk, you want to make sure it doesn’t go too far too dark and become very bitter. A nice deep amber is good. Pour it all immediately over the top of the orange slices and serve. An absolute delight.

If you have it, a blob of marscarpone sweetened with a tiny bit of sugar (and maybe the finely grated zest of the oranges if you were clever enough to think about it before peeling the oranges, I wasn’t) is really nice with this. If you really didn’t feel up to making the caramel, just drizzle some honey over the top.

Enoteca Marilu update

We are in the last stages now of trying to get a kitchen ready for cooking classes to start in just two weeks —eek! We are still undecided on the oven (help! Is a fancy cooking range really more than how beautiful it is?) but we decided to bring back our woodfired oven! We still need choose the counters (terrazzo or marble?). There is electricity but no lights and no water just yet (finding a good plumber seems to be the trickiest thing of opening your own business in Italy — a builder too! I’m at the point where I’m now googling how to tile the kitchen by myself) and who knows when the electrician will come back to put in the vintage lights I found at the flea market. We need chairs. Cutlery. Glasses — so many glasses! Mirrors in the bathroom. Shelves. I’ve stopped looking at how long the list is and am trying to focus on things day by day.

But I’ve been in there during daylight hours, sweeping the floors, sanding and waxing our long table (below, this is only half of it, it extends to 3 metres long!) where I imagine we’ll be sitting down to the seasonal meals we’ve cooked together in classes and where people will gather over a communal table over glasses of natural wine for aperitivo in the evenings. I’ve even bought olive trees for the courtyard (Marco plays along with my requests, driving to the nursery in peak hour traffic to pick up two trees that barely fit in the car that we don’t really need right now — grazie amore mio), Marco’s been busy building up a knock out wine list in a giant spreadsheet. We’ve been working till late at night every day, all day, while trying to carve out proper time with the girls on weekends, hence the dinner dilemma.

I feel things will balance out again soon, and when all that beautiful spring produce starts bursting out at the market that will help inspire easier dinners too.

Part of getting to actually be able to open is reaching our goal over on on our kickstarter campaign, which we have just watched suddenly rocket towards 100% over the past 48 hours (thank you so much!). So if you’re interested in helping us get to that goal, please do check out some of the exclusive things we’re offering as rewards — my only Tuscan/Florence eating guide this year (those of you who know my guides from last 2 years — here is the 2022 one for paid subscribers only — will know this is like me taking you by the hand around my favourite places to eat with tips on really typical things to try, restaurants, wine bars, places to rest and other special things to make the most of it!), Marco’s region to region wine guide, an original handmade linocut "Aperitivo" print! There’s also my Market Day cooking class at a special price on a date you choose (no expiry), a private online wine masterclass with Marco, even a private event for you and 10 friends in Enoteca Marilu catered by me and Marco (you know you want to!) and more.

We’re close and I am so grateful for your continued support and enthusiasm. Thank you for being here.