Make It A Big Night

There are plenty of food-centric movies that have made my mouth water:  Babette’s Feast, Chocolat, Tortilla Soup (lame movie, excellent cooking), Woman on Top (perhaps even worse movie, same excellent cooking).  But none of these movies has inspired my inner chef like Big Night.  This 1996 independent film gathers an impressive ensemble cast but the real story centers around two brothers played by Stanley Tucci and Tony Shalhoub.  (I should have had you at “Tucci”.)  I don’t feel like it’s an exaggeration to say this movie is no less than awe inspiring with its depiction of traditional Italian homemade cuisine.  In fact, I dare say, I feel a little bit sorry for you if this movie has escaped your attention.  But it’s not too late friends.  Just, you know, don’t go in it for the complicated plot or the fast-paced action.  Oh, and possibly consider skipping a meal so you’re on the verge of real hunger.

However, this post is not a review of that movie by any means.  This is about the signature dish of that movie.  On the “big night”, the brothers have invited a VIP to sample the best of their edible fare as a last-ditch effort to save their restaurant.  From the first course, nay the preparation of the first course, your mouth will be watering and your taste buds tingling.  But the most delightful presentation of all, the most compelling dish among the many epicurean jewels spread across the table… is the timpano.  For years I’ve watched enraptured, upon every repeat viewing, as Tony Shalhoub’s Primo (that’s his character’s name) creates this dish.  Then, last year, Lord Bessie and I discovered that she had a few friends who were equally fascinated by the timpano.  And so we had our first Timpano Day.

We went all out.  One of her friends even had the Tucci family cookbook with the recipe from the movie and a special dish to accommodate it.  (It’s huge.)  Then, we divided the prep responsibilities, set aside a whole afternoon, and coordinated the construction of our masterpiece.  It completely met our expectations.  But better yet, my nephew saw the video we made and wanted to try it, so we lured him for his first visit ever to our apartment with the promise of a timpano custom-made just for him.  And his teeny tiny girlfriend. 

This is what it takes.

First, we needed to borrow that special basin-like dish.  Second, we prepared Ragu Tucci, because not only must everything be made from scratch, it must be the exact same recipe as the movie.  Then we made the little meatballs.  Only that didn’t turn out quite so well.  Apparently I should have read every line of the recipe to note that the ten slices of Italian bread needed to be left out for three days.  Discovered this detail on Timpano Eve at about 5:00 pm.  We gave it three hours.  Unfortunately, that was not enough time and, long story short, the meatballs were kinda mealy.  Lord Bessie didn’t mind them, but they made me gag.  I tried three times... and then made a quick trip to the grocery store.

Other ingredients for layering include Genoa salami, provolone, pecorino romano, hard-boiled eggs and 3 lbs of ziti.  The pasta shell to encase these tasty layers was made by Lord Bessie and rolled to correct proportions by yours truly.  That’s rubbery stuff, I tell ya.  The first time we went through this process we realized that flour got stuck in crevices we could neither see nor feel in our smooth-topped table.  Still, it’s the only surface big enough for this purpose, so we simple re-speckled.  Apparently, just as I’m willing to suffer for fashion, I am equally willing to damage my furniture to legitimize my cooking.  Plus, technically Lord Bessie bought the table.

Ok, so the pasta shell is rolled out and placed in the basin, draped over the edges.  Then the layers begin – ziti, meatballs, salami, eggs, provolone, ragu, romano – repeat.  Finally, top it off with some beaten eggs and fold the flaps together over the top.  I suspect an aficionado like Stanley Tucci can accomplish this seamlessly; however we needed a few toothpicks to ensure a tight fit.  No big deal.  That part ends up on the bottom.

The bummer of the process is the wait.  It needs to cook for an hour uncovered, then another 30 minutes with foil on top, then it needs to sit out of the oven for another 30 minutes, then you pop it out of the basin and let it sit for another minimum 20 minutes.  (Only, I recommend longer.)  On the other hand, that meant we had the pleasure of my handsome nephew’s company that much longer.  It’s a strategy I recommend:  bondage by appetite.  To his credit, he acted as if he liked being here.  (If you’re reading this, kid, you made our day.)

As for the timpano, two out of two times it hasn’t disappointed.  It’s hearty and dense and filling and altogether satisfying.  And it’s not really difficult, so you should attempt it yourself.  Make an occasion of it, as seems to be our burgeoning pattern.  It deserves nothing less than a Big Night.

Fully layered and ready to seal.

Toothpicking.

Settling.  For another 20 minutes.

Nephew going in for seconds.

Over the river and Upstairs on the Square

Lord Bessie was a little anxious when she heard me tossing around the idea of a posting after our experience.  So, let me begin by saying I’ll gladly return to this Cambridge restaurant, very few caveats.  There.  That makes this a positive review in my book/blog.

Here’s what you’ll love:

First, the staff is attentive and conscientious and – I suspect but can’t prove – omnipresent.  Plus, all but one of the waiters was male.  Lord Bessie and I call any good-looking waiter Antonio, and this place was chock full of Antonios. (expectant pause) Fine, I’ll digress to explain.

Years ago, we were finishing up at another restaurant having been adequately served by a competent waitress.  The place wasn’t packed, so we were subconsciously if not fully conscious of the rest of the patrons and staff during our meal.  Thus, we were surprised by the sudden appearance of a very attractive, dark-complexioned young man at our table with our check:  “I hope you enjoyed your lunch, ladies,” he intoned deeply, with a sparkle of promise in his eyes.  (Later we decided he also had a sexy foreign accent.)  We played it cool, but I’m pretty sure one or both of us murmured, “What the heck was that??”  We later dubbed him Antonio, and have found ourselves likewise played in similar scenarios, we suspect in order to positively influence the size of the tip.  I can’t say for sure that it hasn’t worked on occasion.

Anyway, UotS didn’t have to deploy special forces since our needs were already being met by an Ivan Sergei look alike.  Let me just say, I don’t spend a lot of time dreaming about Ivan Sergei, but when he’s suddenly your waiter, your appreciation levels change.

Ivan Sergei or possibly our waiter.

Second, the décor is charming and eclectic and comfy.  The arrangement of tables nestles groups into corners or envelops them in velvet cushioned couches.  Even the table-less seemed to snuggle up to the bar and settle in.  Yet the vibe is energetic, with a flat screen in the corner playing the obligatory football game.  It’s your friendly upscale neighborhood bar, I guess, but it feels more like the home of your friendly upscale neighbor.

Third, and probably most importantly, we enjoyed our meals.  We both got the sirloin cheeseburger on a buttered potato roll with gruyere, Niman ranch bacon and cucumber pickles.  Tasty and extremely messy.  It came with fries, which were flavorful and well-seasoned but they earned a demerit for my usual fried potato complaint:  not crispy enough.  (If it helps you create a full picture, Lord Bessie didn’t want me to mention the fries.  She thought my censure would be too off-putting.)  For dessert, I enjoyed a couple scoops of their homemade chocolate malt ice cream.  Basically, I saw “malt” and stopped reading.  My sister opted for the sorbet – pear, pomegranate lemonade and some berry flavor with a couple of shortbread cookies.  After those burgers, this was about all we could handle.  All in all, exactly the meal your belly craves when fulfilling its natural urge to build thermal cushions of cellulite to protect you from the winter cold and snow.

However,

Caveat #1

I suspect this place is better suited to groups, or at least parties of 4 or more.  Lord Bessie and I were the only party of two not seated at the bar.  I further suspect that there was a bit of a scramble to accommodate us.  We were at a tiny little table that seemed placed in the middle of a major walkway between the bar/kitchen and the private dining room in the back and other areas of the restaurant.  Every time one of the ubiquitous wait staff walked by us, it felt like the thundering of a herd of elephants.  Worse, no one could take the corner clean enough to avoid hitting Lord Bessie in the shoulder or head.  She didn’t seem to care (most of the time), but I found it annoying as the observer.  I think I was nervous, positioned under what felt like a spotlight… further proof that our table was in unfamiliar territory.  We were both nervous, me and the table.

Caveat #2

I was on the verge of full heat stroke most of the time.  Granted, this could be a direct result of the awkward placement of our accent table (seriously, we were stuck behind an actual sofa), but the entire restaurant is cozy enough to contain the natural heat generated by the activity of the patrons and swinging door to the kitchen.  That’s why I think the roaring fireplace was maybe… possibly… a little overkill.  I mean I get it about ambience and all.  It’s lovely to observe, for sure.  I just think that perhaps a video flame or candles or decorative lights would have also conveyed a homey, living room atmosphere and not have required pourer’s elbow from the Johnny-on-the-spot water boys trying to keep me hydrated.

Don’t get me wrong, I really did like this place.  In fact, I had a chance to look at their 2011 list of upcoming events, and I’m interested.  Teas, Piano Sings (oh yes), Trivia, Wine Tastings, Fondue Parties… I am definitely compelled to return.  Just, you know, with a few extra friends and maybe wearing layers.

Wii/Weeeee

I now realize why that fifth little piggy squealed all the way home.  He wasn’t shouting “weeeee!”; he was shouting for his Wii.  I’m convinced of this.  That is, now that I (I = Lord Bessie) am the proud owner of an actual Wii.  I admit, I’m not exactly an early adopter with this thing, but better late than never as far as I’m concerned.  I am hooked.  And all I’ve done is this dance thing!

This is typically how it happens with me.  At Christmas, I go to my oldest sister’s house and they inevitably have something new to engage and delight me in the realm of digital entertainment.  First it was Guitar Hero, then Rock Band and this year I was aggressively wooed by Just Dance.  My niece, Lord Bessie, my sis-in-law and I fist-pumped, gyrated and bounced our way around the room for about 15 minutes and 4 or 5 songs and completely wore ourselves out.  I didn’t score too badly either.  Therefore, almost immediately – and telepathically – Lord Bessie and I decided that we must own this magnificent invention for ourselves.  (Later we also actually verbalized this to one another.)

It’s highly likely that most or all of you have already played this particular game, but if you haven’t, you must purchase it immediately and provide me with your feedback (ie. agree with me).  I promise it doesn’t require real skill.  You don’t even have to be a good dancer.  Or very coordinated.  I myself am prone to massive and extravagant falls, yet dare I say, I am poised to be a Just Dance star.  The key is figuring out when you can cut corners to stay in the game.  Keep in mind that only your right hand is being monitored by holding the little Wii device.  (Sorry, I don’t know the vernacular yet.)  This means you can occasionally give yourself a break on the legwork or slow your left hand/arm and still sustain your winner’s edge.  See?  I’m a novice, and I’ve still managed to pick up on these secret strategies. 

I hate to say it, but really, it’s also a brilliant way to trick yourself into exercise.  I did 50 minutes straight the other day, and frankly I haven’t managed that length of consistent aerobic activity for quite some time.  Then later, I followed that up with another half hour or so of competitive dance with Lord Bessie.  It’s addictive, I say!  We’re already ready to buy Just Dance 2 simply for the variety of songs.

I must also mention that the entertainment factor is further enhanced by the cartoon characters that are leading the dance moves for each song.  They are colorful, decade-appropriate and unique.  Think afros and flared jeans for 70s tunes or parachute pants to accompany those MC Hammer moves or Richard Simmons attire to punch out “Eye of the Tiger”.  I think our favorite one is actually this hoe-down style song… oh what a YouTube hit we’d be.  Granted, some are better than others, and there are various levels of difficulty to navigate, but gosh it’s fun.  In fact, my youth phoned me immediately after my first session, and unfairly reamed me out for not playing sooner.  (Don’t worry, we made up later.)

In any case, it’s here now and that means my little piggies will be getting quite the work out this winter.  I’m sure you’ll hear them Wii all the way home.