A little bit of everything for Lent

My friend JJ Garza-Onofre, the Burger Sherpa of Monterrey, sent me a picture of his favorite dessert, home-made Capirotada. I had to ask what it was - my grandmother is a formidable woman, but her claim to fame is her chicken and shells soup and her unflappable support for my coffee habit from a young age.

To honor Mexican grandmothers everywhere, we'd like to feature Capirotada, the most symbol-laden bread pudding you will ever eat. Served during Lent and with the Inquisition's seal of approval, tradition states that the bread represents the Body of Christ, the syrup his blood, the (whole) cinnamon sticks the wooden cross, and, in the furthest stretch of the imagination, the raisins are the nails and the cheese his shroud. This should also settle the great Catholic Food question of 2006. If you haven't given up sweets for Lent like Stephen Colbert a few years ago, give it a try.

I think this is the best one, courtesy of Discover San Miguel de Allende.

Now if only JJ Garza-Onofre could explain what the sprinkles in his grandmother's version represent...

Meringue Dreamin'

Maybe it's the humidity, but I cannot stop thinking about meringue-based desserts. A roundup of my favorites:

1. Absolute food lust: Strawberry and Hazelnut Meringue cake.

2. Remembering Sym's Sydney wedding with Nigella's take on Pavlova.

3. Sachertorte, one of my favorite cakes.

4. Team Pie forever!

5. Argentina's take: Imperial Ruso.

Amo Gelato!

One of the foundational myths in my family is that my maternal grandfather opened up the first (and for the longest time, only) soda shop in Cerralvo, Nuevo Leon. My grandmother would go in every day, and her love for ice cream became a +50 year marriage. At least that was the story we got when we would ask grandpa why he would go into the kitchen exclusively to make milkshakes and smoothies, and why grandma persistently ditched her own touring kin to make gelato-stops all over Rome. Is it any wonder why it is one of my favorite comfort foods?

Last week I was invited to to Pitango Gelato's new shop across the street from Whole Foods on P. S. and I sampled a flight of Gelato - from custard to nuts to sorbets - that was a welcome respite from an overwhelmingly humid Memorial Day. The Pitango space is decked out in green, it's signature color, dark wood, stainless steel and custom-made blown glass light fixtures. There is some seating in a bar with 8 stools that runs the lenght of the back wall (there are plans to add outdoor seating soon).

While many gelato shops in the area favor the mound presentation (one does eat with the eyes, after all), Pitango keeps its offerings under stainless steel drums. While you won't have your eyes to make up your mind, the staff behind the counter will be happy to offer you a sample, and the drums, which used to be an Industry standard before air became a primary mean of cooling, not only look sharp and clean, but also keep smells and flavors from mixing, while keeping ice chips from forming. I've never been so aware of the smell of gelato and sorbet, and how that aroma can bring the flavor to you while your palette concentrates on its temperature and texture.

S. and I were very lucky to have Founder and CEO Noah Dan guide us through our flight. His philosophy is simple: with a single ingredient, you can't cheat. Pitango sources its milk and eggs from an organic, family-owned Mennonite farm in Lancaster County. When possible, the fruit is local and in peak season, so the offering change several times a month. The coffee (an espresso for me and a capuccino for S.) is a custom-blend of Latin American coffees, roasted in Baltimore, a bright floral with just a touch of smoke.

We started out with Crema, an Italian custard. Eggs, milk, a hint of vanilla. A very delicate taste in a very rich texture. We moved on to Nocciola (hazelnut), one of the few imported ingredients from Italy. This is where the smell really hit me - I normally associate hazelnuts with Nutella, which is processed to no end. These hazelnuts are smokey, and made me think of the top note of Jabugo ham, made from hazelnut-fed pigs. Pistachio is one of my favorite gelato flavors, and the Pitango version did not dissapoint - instead of tasting the milk first, you can both see, taste and feel the roasted Pistachios di Bronte, flown in from Sicily. My favorite - and it was hard to pick - was the Creme Fraiche gelato because it combines the tang of yogurt with the texture of gelato - the best of both worlds and a perfect summer treat. In the interest of quasi-journalistic integrity, we moved on to Sorbets, where we found S.'s favorite - White Grapefruit, which we sampled along with tangerine. The sugar is organic, but the fruit is not sweetened to oblivion.

By the time we left, the after-dinner crowd was making a line well outside Pitango's shop. Having had gelato for dinner ourselves, we took our leave, but not before I noticed the take-away containers. I toyed with the idea of buying one to take home but opted against it in hommage to my family history - what would become of love stories put away in the freezer?

Pitango Gelato - Washington, DC
1451 P Street, NW
Washington, DC
(202) 332-8877
http://www.pitangogelato.com/

Somewhere very "us"

S. came back to DC before embarking on her summer stint at the WHO, and I wanted to treat her to lunch to celebrate the end of her first year in graduate school. I gave her free reign over the location and cuisine - surviving Glennon is no small feat. People that have found their way back to DC often request Ethiopian food. After weeks away, I hanker for Thai. There's something very interesting about food nostalgia, the twin aspects of the meals that you miss, coupled with the places and people that made them special. S. said she wanted to go "somewhere very us."

Before Buzz, my regular post-office watering hole was Leopold's. Tucked away from the bustle on M street on Cady's Alley, their terrace is open for most of the year, and I've always found it a pleasant place to stop by for dessert or a light meal. While the décor is nothing like you would expect from an Austrian coffehouse (for that, go to Neue Galerie in NYC), the bright and airy space is decked out in orange, the signature color of the Leopold Museum in Vienna, has plush flowers for barstools, and it is the only place in DC to get a cup of Julius Meinl coffee on a silver tray next to a glass of water. Over Inaugural weekend, Dr., Viennese to the core, gave it her thumbs up.

On this particular outing, we sat in the terrace enjoying the sunshine and the babble of the courtyard's fountain. We started out with cocktails: a Strawberry Kir for me and a Summer Lemonade for S. The Kir was sparkly and refreshing, with the fresh strawberries giving a bit of acidity to the Chambord, which took the place of the creme de cassis. S. declared hers to be a fun spin on SoCo and lime.

S. ordered the Heurigenplatte, a charcuterie plate that features prosciutto, ham, green olives and some very fresh cornichons. The plate is big enough to share as an appetizer and the presentation is thoughtful and balanced. I had the Tunfischsalat Nicoise, their towering interpretation of the French classic, minus the egg. The presentation puts the roasted tomatoes at the base, giving the impression of a tuna tatare. Upon closer inspection, I found the cooked tuna nestled under the string beans. It is always interesting to see a salad that won't let the greens define it. The herb tapenade dressing plays very well with the smokey taste of the roasted tomato.

The crown jewel of Leopold's is, of course, the pastry case. S. and I went to inspect the contents - macarons, petit fours, tartes, chocolate and hazelnut in every which way - we set aside old favorites (including the Papillote) for the Malaga, a raspberry mouse topped with very light vanilla cake, enrobed in white chocolate. Fresh and tart, it is s a perfect summer dessert. It is hard to go wrong with that pastry case (which can look a bit bare on Sunday nights) and my only disappointment in 4 years has been their Sachertorte, which I found dry and too dense. We raised our double espressos to the friends that used to come with us to Cady's Alley, gone but never forgotten: the defining taste of food nostalgia is always bittersweet.

Leopold's Kafe view menu
3318 M St NW
Washington, DC 20007
(202) 965-6005
www.kafeleopolds.com