Chicken Eggplant ParmigianoWomen have helped me be more creative with my cooking.Not so much with the recipes, but with their peculiarities.For instance, Selma Krapoff, our Head of Slim Merch, is on a new kick. She wants protein with every meal. And nothing can be fried. Not even sautéed.So when I had a craving for eggplant Parmigiano, I had to get creative. I didn't want to cook two dishes. I racked my brain, what’s left of it. Then it hit me like a frying pan. Or maybe it was Selma who hit me with the frying pan. The light went on above my horsehead, and I knew what I had to do.I decided to make chicken and eggplant Parmigiano! Ain’t I smart? I did a layer of eggplant, a layer of broiled chicken breasts, and a layer of eggplant, instead of just three layers of eggplant.I put in the tomato sauce, mozzarella, Parmigiano and basil with each layer, of course.Then I baked it for about 20 minutes.It was so good. Selma loved it.Then she yelled at me because she ate too much. She told me that if I didn’t cook stuff that tasted so good, she wouldn’t have to worry about getting fat.
Chicken and Eggplant ParmigianoYour breasts and the eggplant should be about the same size. So should the chicken breasts.I bought 2 chicken breasts and cut each in half horizontally, I had 4 cutlets about ½” thick. Then I cut them in half vertically, so I had 8 small cutlets about ½" thick.Then I sliced the eggplant into circular slices, about ½” thick.NOTE:You only have to broil the chicken for a couple minutes per side. It will bake with the eggplant for another 20 minutes in the oven, so you don’t have to worry about salmonella.I hope.Seriously, Slim People? Clean everything that touches raw chicken with warm, soapy water. Or a powerwasher.You gotta keep it clean.INGREDIENTS3 eggs3 cups panko breadcrumbs (or whatever breadcrumbs you like!)Salt and pepper2 medium eggplant, ends trimmed off, sliced into ½” circular slices
2 large boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 1 pound) each sliced in horizontally in half; you should have 4 cutlets about ½” thick. Cut each in half vertically, now you got 8 cutlets, each ½" thick, capisce?3 cups of tomato sauce (make your own, it’s so easy and takes just 25 minutes!)1 pound mozzarella, cut into circular slices1 cup fresh-grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese¾ cup of fresh, clean basilHERE WE GO…Pre-heat your oven to 400 degrees.Put the eggs in a bowl (I used a glass pie dish), add salt and pepper, and mix ‘em up!Spread the breadcrumbs out on a large platter (I used another pie dish).Dip an eggplant slice in the egg, then press each side into the breadcrumbs.Place on a non-stick baking pan.Do this with all the eggplant slices.Put the pan in the oven on the second-lowest rack, let the eggplant cook on one side for 12 minutes, or until golden brown.
Flip each slice over and cook for another 12 minutes or so.Remove.Turn the oven to broil.Take a piece of chicken.Dip it into the egg.Then press each side into the breadcrumbs.Do this with all the chicken.Place it under the broiler, on the second rack. You don’t want it too close, or it will burn.After 2 minutes, or when golden brown, turn over.Cook on the other side for 2 minutes or until golden brown.Remove from the oven.Get a glass baking dish--I used an 9X13-inch dish.Put a layer of eggplant on the bottom.Add a cup of tomato sauce, spread it around evenly.Add ¼ cup of the basil, snip it with scissors evenly on top.Add 1/3 cup of Parmigiano, spread evenly.Add 1/3 cup of mozzarella slices, spread evenly.
Add a layer of chicken cutlets.Add a cup of tomato sauce.Add ¼ cup of basil, snipped on top.Add 1/3 cup Parmigiano.Add 1/3 cup of mozzarella.Here we go! Final layer!Add a layer of eggplant.Add a cup of tomato sauce.Add ¼ cup basil, snipped on top.Add 1/3 cup of Parmigiano.Add the final 1/3 cup of mozzarella.
Turn the oven to 350 degrees.Put the dish in the oven on the middle rack.Let the eggplant and chicken bake for 20 minutes.Put the oven on broil.Put the dish under the broiler FOR A MINUTE! Keep your eye on these guys, you want the cheese golden brown, not burnt!Remove from the broiler and let it sit for 5 or 10 minutes.Then, cut it up, dish it out, maybe sprinkle a little freshly-grated Parmigiano on top of each serving, maybe garnish with a fresh basil leaf or two, and…
MANGIAMO!
Slim Man Cooks Roasted Vegetable Lasagna
On Christmas Day, 1999, I sang for Pope John Paul II at the Vatican.When you read that first line, you might get the impression that I was strumming my guitar at the Pope’s bedside, singing Christmas songs as he dozed off to sleep.That ain’t what happened.A friend of mine called from LA. She was putting a choir together to sing two pieces of music written for Pope John Paul II. She was familiar with my music, and thought I might like to be included as a vocalist. Yes, indeed!Both pieces were going to be performed at the Vatican on Christmas Day, 1999, the last Christmas of the 20th century. She asked me to be in the choir, to sing for the Pope.You can’t say “nope” to the Pope.I drove over to my uncle Oscar’s house, not far from my hometown of Baltimore, Maryland. I told him what was going on – I was flying to Rome for Christmas to sing for the Pope. He was so happy, you would have thought I’d just cured erectile dysfunction.Oscar insisted on paying for my hotel as a Christmas gift. He wanted me to stay at the Excelsior, a swanky, luxurious, elegant hotel in the heart of Rome. Fellini shot part of a movie there, La Dolce Vita.A few days before Christmas, I flew to Rome. I had never been before. When I checked into the hotel, I was dazzled. It was beautiful. Elegant. I didn’t get to see much of the hotel, though. Most of my days were spent at rehearsals. The two pieces of music we were doing for the Pope were called “Magnificat” and “cantata Giubileo.”“Magnificat,” was written by Beppe Cantarelli, an Italian guy who had written songs for Aretha and Mariah Carey. “Magnificat” is truly magnificent, one of my favorite pieces of choral music.“cantata Giubileo” was written by Maurice Jarre, a pretty famous and serious film composer. He won three Academy Awards for the music he wrote for Lawrence of Arabia, Doctor Zhivago, and A Passage to India.Giubileo is the Italian word for “Jubilee.” Every 25 years, the Roman Catholic Church celebrates Giubileo. Cantare is the Italian word for “sing.” In other words, “cantata Giubileo” was supposed to be a joyous piece of vocal music.It was a difficult piece of music – difficult to sing and difficult to like. There were so many key changes, time signature changes, and tempo changes. To top it off, the choir had to sing the word “peace” in 33 different languages.I like to joke a lot. But I ain’t kidding, Maurice wanted us to learn how to sing “peace” in 33 languages. There were about 50 people in the choir, men and women, mostly from LA; a mixed bag of gospel singers, pop singers, R&B singers, and one lonely jazz guy - me. We were called the Millennium Choir.We rehearsed in the Sala Nervi, the concert hall that had just been built next to St. Peter’s Basilica. Sala Nervi was amazing. The acoustics, the mile-high ceilings, the marble floors, the masses of stained glass – they didn’t get this stuff at Home Depot. Sala Nervi was really and truly stunning.The orchestra was down in front in the pit. The choir was on stage in a semi-circle, on raised stands. I stood next to a well-dressed black guy, who introduced himself as Darryl Phinnesse. His claim to fame was that he had written the lyrics to the theme song for the TV show Fraser.I always wondered about the lyric in that song “tossed salads and scrambled eggs.” I asked Darryl about it. He explained that “tossed salads and scrambled eggs” meant crazy people, people who were mixed up.I didn’t get it. I still don’t get it.Rehearsals for “Magnificat” were magnificent. The choir, the orchestra — everybody connected with that piece of music in a big way. It sounded glorious. To sing that incredible song, with a full choir and orchestra, in that amazing hall - I could have sung it a hundred times in a row.But “cantata Giubileo”? Both the choir and orchestra were having a tough time. Even when we got it right, it didn’t sound right – it sounded like an orchestra tuning up. Cacophonous.Maurice Jarre was not happy. He didn’t look like a real happy guy to begin with.One night, after rehearsal, I was at the hotel bar in the Excelsior, singing “Blue Christmas”, when a very stylish Italian guy came over and told me he liked my voice, told me I sounded like Elvis. I had been studying Italian for months. I knew enough to get around, especially when someone was talking about The King.He asked me my name. I was gonna say Slim Man, but I told him my real name. When he heard me say “Camponeschi” his eyes lit up. He told me about Ristorante Camponeschi in Rome. He told me I had to go there. He introduced himself. Federico.Federico called me in my room the next morning to tell me he had made a reservation. Which was very nice - a little bit strange, but nice. How did he find out which room I was in? I thanked him, hung up, and promptly forgot about it. I showered, dressed, and got in a taxi. I told the cab driver to take me to the Vatican. When he asked me why I was going there, I told him I was going to sing for the Pope. He laughed. I guess it did sound like a joke.Rehearsal that day was no joke. “cantata Giubeleo” was still not sounding right. Maurice worked us hard. Towards the end of the long day, Maurice stopped the choir to yell at us. He was a fiery Frenchman, and he wasn’t happy with the way his masterpiece was sounding.In the middle of his hollering, I noticed a guy walking across the marble floor. He was about 100 yards away, but you could hear his footsteps echo in the hall, getting louder as he got closer.The guy stopped next to Maurice Jarre. He was dressed in a suit and tie with overcoat. He looked like a hit man. Maurice stopped yelling.The guy said, to no one in particular, that he was looking for Signore Camponeschi. I looked around. There were no other Camponeschis. I raised my hand. He motioned for me to go with him. I had no idea what was going on. Maybe the Pope wanted me to make him some meatballs.The orchestra, the choir, Maurice - everyone stood and stared in silence as I stepped down from the choir stand, walked off the stage, and followed the guy out of the Sala Nervi, our footsteps fading in the grand hall. We walked outside and the guy opened the back door of a Mercedes limo. I got in.I knew he wasn’t gonna kill me — he wouldn’t have abducted me in front of 100 witnesses if he were. But I was a bit curious as to where I was going. When I’d ask, he’d say “Camponeschi.”Ten minutes later, we pulled up in front of the French Embassy. I was really confused, until I saw a sign across the street from the Embassy. Ristorante Camponeschi. We walked in.I couldn’t have had a better reception if I were the Pope. They had everything but a brass band playing the national anthem. Alessandro Camponeschi and his Dad, Marino, owned the place, and they greeted me with hugs, and treated me like a long lost son.My grandfather, Romollo Camponeschi, was born in Rome. It's quite possible that Alessandro and I might be related. But what a welcome, regardless.Ristorante Camponeschi is very elegant. Alessandro and Marino wouldn’t let me order from the menu. I must have had 100 courses. They brought soups, salads and appetizers, lobsters, champagne and desserts as well as flaming liqueurs.When your name is Slim Man, it’s not a good thing to stuff yourself like I did.After dinner, I gave a warm goodbye to Alessandro and Marino. The Mercedes limo was waiting for me outside. He gave me a quick ride back to the Excelsior. I thanked him, walked inside, and went to sleep.I found out the next day that Federico had made all the arrangements – the limo pick-up from the Vatican, the dinner, the limo ride home. All because he liked the way I sang “Blue Christmas.” Long Live The King!On Christmas morning, I got all dressed up in my tuxedo. It took me a while to get my bow tie tied – I didn’t want to use a clip-on for the Pope! I caught a cab to the Vatican, and got ready for the Big Show. We took the stage, the lights went dim and…The concert was amazing. The choir sounded great, so did the orchestra, and it all went really well — both pieces of music sounded exquisite. I was concentrating so hard on the sheet music, on getting everything right, that I really didn’t have time to look around, and soak it all in.I didn't even notice where Pope John Paul was sitting. He could have started a mosh pit and I wouldn’t have noticed.But after the concert, as I walked by, the Pope gave me a chest bump and a high five, and let me try on his hat.Just joking. Lord, forgive me!After the concert, I walked out of the Sala Nervi into the chilly Christmas night and it was breathtaking. The streets of Rome were jam-packed with people, the church bells were ringing, voices were singing, the Christmas lights were twinkling, all the streetlamps were decorated, and it was glorious.Absolutely glorious.Roasted Vegetable LasagnaI wanted to make a lasagna that was…Slim, so to speak. So I skipped the ricotta cheese, and just roasted some vegetables.The first time I cooked this I used no-cook lasagna noodles in a 9x13 dish. The lasagna fit in the dish perfectly, but I didn’t like ‘em. I know a lot of people use them. To me, no-cook lasagna don’t taste right.I really prefer to boil the lasagna the old school way. In boiling water. What a concept. I boiled my lasagna noodles according to the instructions on the package, and they turned out so nice! It didn’t add any additional time, I cooked the lasagna noodles as the vegetables roasted.I used an 8x11 glass baking dish, because the traditional lasagna noodles fit perfectly in there. I used 9 sheets of lasagna--3 layers of 3.I was gonna cook a tomato sauce for this, but then, in a stroke of genius, I decided to do a no-cook tomato sauce. When I usually cook a tomato sauce, I cook it for 25 minutes.I figured, the tomato sauce was gonna bake in the oven with the lasagna for 25 minutes anyway, why cook the sauce beforehand. Capisce?It saved a lot of time and effort, but the best thing about this no-cook tomato sauce? It tasted so fresh. Funky fresh!You’ll need 3 generous cups of tomato sauce. You can use bottled sauce, but my no-cook tomato sauce takes no time!I found some organic mini-bell peppers on sale. They were beautiful--red, yellow and orange and added a nice color and flavor to this dish. If you can’t find mini-bell peppers, you can use a regular orange, yellow or red bell pepper, or a combination of all three. Whatever combination you use, you’ll need to end up with a cup and a half, chopped.I found some multi-colored heirloom grape tomatoes on sale. They, too, were colorful and delizioso. And not expensive. I cut them in half, squeezed the seeds out, and they worked perfectly.Cippolini onions are sweeter and milder than normal onions. They’re good for roasting, and you can find them in normal grocery stores. If you can’t find cippolini onions, use shallots instead.I always clean my vegetables. I clean everything. You gotta keep it clean, Slim People.INGREDIENTS
For the lasagna:3 cups (2 medium) zucchini cut in ¼ inch circular slices1 ½ cups small cippolini onions (6), peeled and quartered1 ½ cups red, yellow and orange bell peppers, cored, seeded, cut into 1-inch pieces5 tablespoons olive oil4 cups (8 ounces) sliced portobello mushroom caps, 1/8 inch thick, cut into 1-inch pieces3 cups (2 small) yellow squash cut in ¼ inch circular slices3 cups grape tomatoes, cut in half, insides/seeds squeezed out1 package lasagna noodles (at least 9 sheets)¼ cup basil, loosely packed, snipped with scissors or chopped gently—it bruises!1 pound (or more!) mozzarella cheese, you’ll need 1 ½ cups shredded, plus 12 circular ¼ inch slices½ cup fresh grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheeseKosher salt and fresh cracked black pepperINGREDIENTSFor the no-cook tomato sauce:1 twenty-eight ounce can crushed Italian tomatoes (San Marzano are best, $3.99 a can)1 tablespoon minced garlic¼ cup basil leaves, loosely packed, snipped with scissors or chopped gently!½ teaspoon kosher salt¼ teaspoon crushed red pepperCombine all the ingredients, stir, set aside. Taste for salt and pepper and adjust. This should make about 3 or 4 cups. How easy was that?Here we go…Pre-heat your oven to 400 degrees.Put your zucchini, onion and peppers in a bowl, drizzle with a tablespoon or two of olive oil, add some kosher salt and fresh-cracked black pepper, and toss.Get a large metal baking pan, line it with aluminum foil. Add the zucchini and onions and peppers to the pan.Put your portobello mushrooms and yellow squash in the bowl. Add a tablespoon or two of olive oil, some kosher salt and fresh-cracked black pepper, and toss.Get another large metal baking pan, line it with aluminum foil. Add the portobello mushrooms and yellow squash to the pan.Put both pans in the oven, as close to the middle as possible, and roast for 25 minutes. As the vegetables roast…Take your 2 cups of halved grape tomatoes, put them in a bowl. Add a tablespoon of olive oil, some kosher salt and fresh-cracked black pepper and toss. Set aside.Now, for the lasagna noodles. Get a large pot, fill it full of cold water, put it on the highest heat ya got. When it comes to a full boil, add 2 tablespoons kosher salt and the lasagna noodles.Cook the lasagna noodles according to the directions on the package. I followed the instructions on a package of Barilla lasagna, I cooked them for 7 minutes.Keep an eye on these guys, make sure they don’t stick together. People should stick together, lasagna shouldn’t. Use tongs. Be gentle. Be kind. But you gotta keep ‘em separated.When the lasagna noodles have cooked according to the instructions, drain gently.I used an 8x11 glass baking dish. The lasagna noodles fit perfectly.Put a generous cup of uncooked tomato sauce in the bottom, spread around evenly.Add 3 pieces of lasagna, lay like shingles, overlapping—just a touch!Add the roasted zucchini, peppers and onions.Add a cup of tomato sauce.Add ¾ cup shredded mozzarella, spread evenly and judiciously.Add 3 more pieces of lasagna, layering like shingles.Add the roasted yellow squash and portobellos. Spread ‘em out even.Add a cup of tomato sauce, spread evenly.Add ¾ cup of shredded mozzarella, evenly—capisce?Add another layer of lasagna noodles, 3, lay ‘em down like shingles.Add the halved-tomatoes, distribute evenly. Any part of the lasagna noodles that are exposed, rub with a little olive oil from the bowl that held the tomatoes. This will help keep the noodles from drying out.Stick the baking dish in the oven on the middle rack for 25 minutes.After 25 minutes, remove from the oven.
Sprinkle the ¼ cup of basil leaves on top of the tomatoes. Add the slices of mozzarella, make sure you cover all the tomatoes.Top off with the grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese.Turn the oven to broil. Put the lasagna in the oven and KEEP AN EYE ON THESE GUYS. Don’t burn the cheese. You want it to get golden brown. It should only take a MINUTE OR TWO.Maybe three…When the mozzarella is golden and bubbly, remove. Let it sit for 10 minutes.Dish it up! Make it look nice. Sprinkle with some snipped basil leaves, maybe some grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. She’s a-so nice!
MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Caprese Salad
I was conceived on the Isle of Capri. That’s what my Mom told me. She would know - I hope!Capri is an island off the coast of Italy. My Dad was in Europe, helping with the reconstruction after World War II. My Mom was with him. On their way back to the USA, my folks stopped in Capri. Lucky for me.I was born in Baltimore, Maryland, soon after my folks arrived from Capri. Couldn’t they have stayed on Capri for a couple more months?My folks loved music. My Dad loved old blues and Dixieland jazz; my Mom loved everything. When I say everything, I mean everything. Miles Davis, Chet Baker, Nat King Cole, Isaac Hayes, Aretha Franklin, Bonnie Raitt, Ella Fitzgerald, The Band, Dylan, Johnny Winter, Joan Baez, Hank Williams, Sr., Stan Getz, Astrud Gilberto, Dave Brubeck, The Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Harry Nilsson, Randy Newman, Donovan, Dave Grusin, Marvin Gaye, Norah Jones, Anita Baker, Gladys Knight. I could go on and on.I guess I just did.My Mom turned me on to so many great artists. We’d go see shows together; everyone from Gladys Knight and the Pips to Paul Simon. When Paul Simon came to town, she bought a couple tickets. When the young guy sitting in front of us stood up and started doing the hippy-dippy Grateful Dead dance, she pulled him by his shirt back into his seat and quietly told him to sit down.Dayuummm, Ma! Making me look bad! The guy sat quietly for the rest of the show. My Mom was quiet, but strong.
My Mom didn’t have a lot of dough, but she’d treat herself to music—she always had a nice stereo, and went to see concerts. I remember her going to see Bonnie Raitt when she was playing local college gymnasiums. My Mom would drive to Annapolis, Maryland, to see Charlie Byrd play jazz guitar at the King of France Tavern.My Mom had a lovely voice, sweet and clear with a natural vibrato. She would put on some music, and cook dinner and sing along. Then, we’d have dinner and read cookbooks—looking for new recipes to try. She loved music and loved cooking.She grew up poor in Eastport, which at the time was a ghetto across the bridge from Annapolis, Maryland, which was home to the Naval Academy, where her dad worked as a custodian. My Mom met my Dad in Annapolis; he was going to St. John’s College, and was in a school play. My Mom was also in the play, even though she wasn’t a student. They fell in love, and had us three dimwits. When I was born, we lived with my Dad’s Mom, Angela, in the basement of her house in Baltimore, near Pimlico Racetrack – a thoroughbred horse-racing track that was home of the Preakness Stakes.When I was six, we moved into a house a couple miles away, on a dead-end street named Rosebank. It was a great old house, what they call a “fixer-upper.” It had an upright piano in the dining room. The previous owners had built the room around the piano, and when they moved, they couldn’t get it out. So they left it there. I took the piano apart. I painted it black. I replaced the keys with new ones. I put it back together, and started playing.I was already taking trumpet lessons. Once a week, my Mom would take me down Greenmount Avenue, and I’d study trumpet with Mr. John at a place called Freitag’s. I absolutely loved Herb Alpert, and made Mr. John do all the Tijuana Brass duets with me.I used to read comic books. In the back, they had these advertisements for seeds. No, it wasn’t marijuana seeds. Vegetable seeds. You’d send away for seeds, sell them to your neighbors, and after you sold a certain amount, you could redeem your points for prizes--one of which was a guitar. I learned how to play by ear. It would have been a lot easier if I had used my hands.
There I was, a little kid, learning how to play guitar and piano and trumpet. I can imagine all the horrible sounds my Mom had to put up with. It ain’t fun listening to a kid practice. My first gig was playing guitar and singing Beatles songs at the sixth grade graduation. I was in fifth grade. Roland Park Elementary School. My first gig!When I started my rock band, Momma Max, my Mom let us rehearse in the basement. It must have been incredibly loud upstairs. When I started writing songs, my Mom would type out lyric sheets, and write letters to publishers. When I got rejection letter after rejection letter, my Mom would quietly encourage me to keep going.When I got signed to Motown as a songwriter, my Mom was ecstatic. When one of the first songs I wrote for Motown – “Summer Days” – was recorded by Angela Bofill on her debut CD, my Mom could not have been more proud—she saved all the articles and reviews. When I got offered a record deal with Motown, my Mom’s house was the headquarters while we recorded in Baltimore. When Motown decided not to release the CD, it was my Mom who kept me from jumping off the roof.After my stint at Motown, I started a band called BootCamp. The music was loud, it was rock, and it was making some big noise in the music biz. But I was screaming at the top of my lungs, all night, every night, singing way out of my range.When I lost my voice after all that screaming, when I thought I’d never be able to sing again, it was my Mom who encouraged me to sing low and slow. And that’s what I did after BootCamp broke up. Slim Man was born!When the first Slim Man CD--End of the Rainbow-- was released, my Mom was at the release party. She was about the only one in the joint. Seriously. It was a howling failure. Nobody came out. I was convinced the CD was gonna sink like a stone in the sea.Not my Mom, she kept my spirits up, kept gently encouraging me. When the End of the Rainbow CD started getting airplay, I was playing piano in a dive bar in Baltimore called The Horse You Came In On. My Mom would call the bar on Fridays, and tell me how well the CD was doing on the charts. The CD ended up going Top Ten for the year. My Mom was a huge Slim Man fan. Whenever I played around Baltimore, she’d come see me play. And then she got sick.She had this horrible illness called Supra Nuclear Palsy, a disease where the body’s motors shut down. It becomes hard to move your mouth or tongue; it’s tough to chew or swallow or talk. It’s hard to move your arms or legs. It was difficult for my Mom to even close her eyes to sleep. And yet her mind was still sharp as a razor.My Mom never complained. Not once did I hear her say, “Why me?” I rarely say “never” but I never heard her complain. All she could do was lie in bed and watch TV or listen to music. I once got an advance from a record company; I spent it on a TV and a stereo for my Mom. It was the least I could do after all the hell I’d put her through when I was a teenage idiot.Even when she was sick, she’d get my sister to take her to the Slim Shows. It wasn’t easy, getting her around in the wheelchair, when she couldn’t even move a muscle. But she made it, even when it was snowing.I took care of my Mom the best I could. I brought her food all the time. I called her almost every day, even though she couldn’t talk. I had a jazz radio show in Baltimore on Sunday mornings, I always dedicated the show to my Mom. After the show, I would visit her, bring her a dish, and we’d drink a Bloody Mary and watch old movies. One time, I rented a handicapped van, and took her and the nieces to Pimlico racetrack. Nothing like some horse-racing to take your mind off things!When I got an offer to do a cruise, I was hesitant. I didn’t want to leave my Mom, but she insisted I go. Michael van Droff--who owned a German record company that had released some of my music--organized the concert cruise. I flew to Germany, practiced with the band, and then flew to Jamaica, where the cruise ship was docked. We were going to cruise the Caribbean for a week, cross the Atlantic, and cruise the Mediterranean for a week. Not a bad gig. My first cruise.My first night on the ship was a night off. I had dinner at the huge buffet, and then nestled into my tiny little cabin. Early the next morning I got a phone call.My Mom had died. I was crushed. I was inconsolable. The Germans, they’re a pretty stoic bunch. My grief must have been pretty alarming to them, because they had me off that cruise ship within hours. It was like an evacuation. A small boat picked me up, took me to a small island, where I caught a small cab to a small airport.How small? There was one tiny runway among the palm trees. The terminal had one counter and no walls; just an old rusted tin roof overhead. They had a small sound system that played music in between announcements – which were few and far between. I was pacing; I couldn’t sit still. I had a lump in my throat the size of a basketball. My eyes were swollen and red.
I was staring off into the distance, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened, when a song of mine came over the tiny sound system. How that happened, in that little airport, on that tiny island in the Caribbean, I’ll never know. The song was “Night Like This.”I picked up my cell phone and called the first person I always called when I wanted to share a moment like that. My Mom.Except she was gone.CAPRESE SALADMy Mom was an excellent cook. She prepared all kinds of foods—Indian, Mexican, Italian, French. She once made coq au vin—a French dish of chicken with red wine—for my entire seventh grade French class.
Insalata Caprese--that’s what the Eye-Talians call it--is my favorite salad. Yes, I was conceived on the Isle of Capri, where this recipe comes from, so I am partial. But this salad is so quick, easy and delicious.There is only ONE THING you have to remember.Every ingredient has to be the best.The tomatoes have to be ripe and luscious. The olive oil has to be extra virgin, or at least one that hasn’t been pole-dancing at the club every night.This would be a good time to splurge on bufala mozzarella. Yes, it’s expensive. But it’s really, really good. Take out a second mortgage, if you haven’t already. Break open the kids’ piggy bank. This is the one time to dig deep and fork it over.Bufala mozzarella comes from water buffalos. The scientific name for water buffalo is Bubalus bubalis. Which sounds like something I made up, but didn’t. Bubalus bubalis! Boo-Bah Lish!I used organic heirloom tomatoes. They weren’t expensive, and they were so fresh, ripe and colorful and tasted like heaven.Some people use balsamic vinegar as well as olive oil on their Caprese salad.I prefer using just olive oil. But what the hell do I know?INGREDIENTS2 or 3 heirloom tomatoes, or fresh vine-ripened tomatoes1 large ball of mozzarella — I suggest bufala — about a poundExtra virgin olive oilSalt and fresh-cracked black pepperFresh basil, a handfulHere we goSlice the tomatoes into circular slices, about a ¼ inch thick.Slice the mozzarella the same way.
Grab a small flat plate. We’re going to make individual servings. Put a slice of tomato flat on the plate. Put a slice of mozzarella on top.Grab another slice of tomato, preferably a different color. Lay it on top of the first slice of mozzarella, but down about an inch, so it’s layered, like when you play solitaire. Put a slice of mozzarella on top of the second slice of tomato.One more time! Grab a slice of tomato, lay it down, put a slice of mozzarella on top.If my math is correct, you’ll have three slices of each.Drizzle some olive oil on top.Add some salt and fresh cracked black pepper.Grab some basil leaves and a pair of scissors. Snip some basil right on top of the tomatoes and mozzarella.Make as many individual plates as you can, this usually serves four. Unless you’re in my family --this would feed only one of those monsters.Serve with some crusty bread, and…
MANGIAMO!!!
Slim Man Cooks Grilled Vegetable Pasta Salad
Grilled Vegetable Pasta and My Dad’s GardenMost Italians I know have a garden. I don’t know why; it just seems to be the case. My grandmother Angela had a small garden. My uncle Oscar had a garden. Or rather, he had someone build him a garden and maintain it. Oscar wasn’t a dig-in-the-dirt kinda guy. I don’t think he ever mowed a lawn in his adult life. He had people who did that kinda thing. But My Dad? Oscar’s only brother? He loved getting down in the dirt.I remember one spring my Dad wanted to build a vegetable garden. He lived in an apartment above a big barn on a farm in Long Island, New York. I used to drive up from Baltimore, Maryland, and visit him in his little place on the top floor. My Dad had painted all the walls different bright colors; purple, yellow, orange. For his dining-room table, he had found a huge old wood spool that the phone company had used for wrapping telephone wire. He laid it on its side, and that’s what we ate on. His kitchen table was an antique foot-operated sewing machine.There was a dog kennel in the barn downstairs, which was a lot of fun when the volunteer fire department sirens would go off in the middle of the night, and the dozen or so dogs would start caterwauling.Along with the dogs, there were also horses residing in the barn below. Well, it wasn’t like Smarty Jones or Seattle Slew were living there. This was a working barn, with working horses. And when you have horses, you usually have horse flies. So in the upstairs apartment my Dad put fly strips on the ceiling.In case you’ve never lived above a barn with horses and horse flies; fly strips are basically rolls of sticky paper that unravel and hang from the ceiling. When flies would fly by, they’d get stuck to the paper. Since the ceiling at my Dad’s apartment was slanted and low, whenever you walked by, the paper would stick to your hair. This wasn’t a problem for My Dad, who had no hair. But for us long-haired teens, it was a big problem.I had a hairdo that resembled all three guys in the Jimi Hendrix Experience put together. Whenever I walked by these fly strips, my hair would get stuck, and I’d have to call for my Dad to cut me loose. So there were all these fly strips hanging from the ceiling, with dead flies and clumps of hair stuck to them.The other thing you have when you have horses downstairs? Fertilizer, to put it politely. The apartment had a certain aroma that they rarely use in aromatherapy. With all that free fertilizer, my Dad decided to create his garden. He wanted to border the garden with railroad ties; so one day he borrowed a pickup truck, and we drove to a deserted area of the Long Island Railroad.My Dad couldn’t just go to the Home Depot and buy wood borders. He had to go find old railroad ties. He couldn’t just go to a furniture store and buy a dining-room table, he had to go find a big old wood spool. He couldn’t buy a kitchen table at IKEA, he had to use an old sewing machine. He couldn’t just find a normal place to live, he had to find a place on top of a barn with a kennel and horses and ceilings that were so slanted that you had to walk around crouched over like Groucho Marx or Quasimodo.My Dad had it in his head to find railroad ties to border his garden. We found a stack by the side of some abandoned railroad tracks. The railroad ties smelled like creosote, and weighed what seemed like a ton. We put the back gate of the pickup truck down. We were able, the two of us, to get one railroad tie onto the bed of the pickup truck. The only problem was - the railroad tie was hanging off the back of the pickup.We drove off and when my Dad went over a bump, the end of the railroad tie closest to the cab of the truck would rise in the air, and the other end that was hanging off the back of the truck would hit the ground. It was like a see-saw. A dangerous see-saw. My Dad pulled the truck over.Then he had a brilliant idea. He wanted me to get out of the truck and stand on the end of the railroad tie that was close to the cab, using what little weight I had to keep the railroad tie from flying up in the air. He told me to hang on to the roof of the truck for stability. Brilliant.
My Dad was a tough and gruff guy, an Italian who started off really poor, grew up on the streets of New York, and forged quite a life for himself. He was a lawyer. He worked for the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission. He wrote speeches for Vice President Hubert Humphrey. He helped start the Peace Corps. He was a professor of philosophy and literature at the State University of New York in Old Westbury, which was about 15 miles from the barn.My Dad yelled a lot. He laughed a lot, too, but he had a temper. I found it hard to say “no” to to my Dad; so I got out of the truck and stood on the end of the railroad tie, facing forward, holding on to the roof of the cab for dear life. The first bump we hit, I shot into the air like a rocket. It seems kinda funny now. It wasn’t real funny to me back then. I was terrified.That’s when I thought it might be best to prop up one end of the railroad tie on top of the cab of the pickup, and close the back gate to hold the other end inside the bed. And that’s the way we rolled. We ended up getting four railroad ties, and made a huge square outside of the barn. We shoveled horseshit for hours from the barn into the garden.That garden was incredible. We had Brussel sprouts the size of cabbages. Everything grew to amazing proportions and tasted incredibly fresh and delightful. When I think of vegetables, I always think of that garden. And how I almost died to get it built.GRILLED VEGETABLE PASTA SALADI like to grill. I like pasta. I like vegetables. So - I thought - why not combine all three? That’s when I came up with this recipe. I put the “j” back in genius with this dish. You’ll want to serve it at room temperature, but add the mozzarella balls when the pasta is hot, so the balls get gooey, so to speak. Fusilli pasta works best.I cut the onion into large slices, and the orange bell peppers, too, because they’re easier to grill and flip that way. When they’re done, I chop ‘em up into smaller, bite-size pieces. Also, the cherry tomatoes only need about five minutes on the grill, just to heat ‘em up.Serves four; or one teenage kid who’s been shoveling horseshit in the sun for hours.
IngredientsA bulb of garlic, the root end cut offExtra virgin olive oil1 small zucchini, scrubbed, ends snipped off, sliced in circular slices1 small yellow summer squash, prepared the same way1 small eggplant, prepared the same way2 orange bell peppers, stems and seeds removed, cut in large slices1 Vidalia onion (or any sweet onion except purple/Spanish), sliced into large circular slices2 dozen cherry tomatoesA dozen small balls of mozzarella½ cup pignoli (pine nuts), toasted to a golden brown in a dry pan over medium heat — you can also use sliced almonds, toasted the same wayBasil leaves, a large handful (a cup) – save a few whole leaves for garnish1 tablespoon of balsamic vinegar1 pound of fusilli pastaFreshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheeseSalt and freshly ground pepperNon-stick cooking spray (optional)Here we go…Make sure your grill surface is clean. A little non-stick cooking spray on the grill surface will help keep your vegetables from sticking. Be careful! Don’t spray it into the fire.If you’re using a charcoal grill, light the coals, and let them burn for 20 to 30 minutes, or until the coals are ash-gray. You don’t want the fire to be too hot, or you just end up burning the vegetables. If you’re using a gas grill, put the heat on medium.Take the bulb of garlic. Slice the root end off. Put the whole garlic bulb on top of a piece of aluminum foil. Drizzle it with olive oil, about a teaspoon. Wrap it up, and put it on the outside part of the grill – the place with the least heat – and let it slow-roast for the whole time you’re grilling.For the pasta, get a large pot, fill it with water, and let it come to a boil.Now for the vegetables. Put them all on a large platter. Drizzle with olive oil, about a tablespoon, make sure they’re all lightly coated. Sprinkle with a little salt and fresh cracked black pepper. Then flip ‘em over and do the same on the other side – drizzle with a little olive oil, and sprinkle with a little salt and pepper.Put all the vegetables on the grill, except the tomatoes. Let everything grill for about 5 to 7 minutes, depending on the heat of your grill, then turn ‘em over.Put the tomatoes on the outside of the grill. Grill all your vegetables for another 5 to 7 minutes.
Remove the vegetables from the grill, and place them on a large platter. Cut the onion and the orange bell peppers into bite size pieces.For the pasta, when the water is a-boiling, add a few tablespoons of kosher salt, and then add a pound of fusilli. Follow the directions on the box. Two minutes before the pasta is supposed to be done, start tasting. Bite through a piece of pasta, look at the center. If it is chalky, it is not done. Keep tasting every 2 minutes until it tastes right, not too chewy. When the fusilli is al dente (firm to the bite) drain, put it in a large bowl and drizzle with a tablespoon olive oil, and toss.Take your garlic bulb out of the aluminum foil, make sure it’s cool enough to touch, and grab the bulb by the top. Squeeze the cloves out through the bottom, right onto the pasta. Mick ‘em up.Add your grilled vegetables, give them a stir.Add your mozzarella balls and toss gently.Add the toasted pignoli – save some for sprinkling on to each plate.Take the basil leaves (save a few for each plate for garnish), and snip ‘em with scissors into small pieces right onto the pasta. Toss gently.Add a little more olive oil if you like and toss again - gently.Add the balsamic vinegar (about a tablespoon or so to taste) and toss once more.Dish it up! Make it look nice! On each plate, add a couple basil leaves, sprinkle a few toasted pignoli on top, and add a little freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese on top, if you like. And…
MANGIAMO!!!