Meet the Gypsy

January 21, 2010

Before she learned how to read, Angela Nickerson refused to eat broccoli and aspired to be a tap dancing nurse. However, once her mom taught her to read, Angela’s medical aspirations expired. Her favorite books were those set in “the olden days” in places far more exotic than Dallas, Texas. In her thirties Angela translated that passion for history and travel into a column of local biographical profiles as well as her book, A Journey into Michelangelo’s Rome. Her second book, Rome's Angels & Demons: the Insider's Guide, was published in 2009.

When she was fifteen, Angela’s grandparents, both worldly travelers, gave her a life-changing birthday gift: they took her to Europe. Together they took a nearly-nude summer sauna in Finland where the sun hardly set. They explored Red Square in Moscow, visited one of the first privately-owned restaurants in the USSR, and brushed their teeth with Pepsi. The three-country tour ended in England with a trip to the Tower of London and the purchase of some fantastic Princess Diana kitsch.

After graduating from high school in 1991, Angela went to St. Olaf College in Minnesota. The cold, snowy campus offered the perfect place for a bookish girl with a passion for research to blossom. Angela’s parents impressed upon her the need for a reliable career, so after college, she went on to Washington University in St. Louis where she earned a Masters of Arts in Teaching. Teaching at small, private schools, she applied her love of art and music, history and travel in her classroom.

Along the way she adhered to her mantra: just GO! She won a Fulbright Memorial Fund award and spent a month in Japan studying the Japanese educational system. Not long after Angela’s husband asked, “What would you think about moving to California?” And away they went. She has taught writing in Korea as well as in cyberspace. She has marched in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, escorted a variety of performing groups through the US and Europe, and jumps on a plane any time she can.

Angela married an Italian-American with memories of playing as a child at Ostia Antica and romping through the Colosseum. Now she enjoys traveling to Italy several times a year – often escorting small groups of people. In doing so she combines the great passions in her life: art and history, travel and, of course, writing.

However, Angela still does not like broccoli much.

The World’s Best Marinara Sauce (American-style)

January 20, 2010

A dear friend of mine went to Italy on a cruise a few years ago. They took a group excursion into Rome one day, and, as they sat at a trattoria one of the women in the group loudly whined, “Why can’t we just get some real Italian food -- like at Olive Garden?”

Now, that’s wrong on soooooo many levels...
But there is a grain of truth in it. Italian food in Italy is not the Italian-American food served at most restaurants in the U.S. And that’s surprising to some American travelers. Italian pizza does not always have sauce, for example, and the crust is generally very thin and crispy -- almost like a cracker. Pasta dishes tend to be simpler, the plates smaller. I don’t think I’ve ever seen garlic bread in Italy. And a latte is a cup of hot milk, not a coffee drink.

Most Italian restaurants in the U.S. serve an Italian-American cuisine. And I’m not saying that’s a bad thing! Each region in Italy boasts a distinctive palate. Where large groups of immigrants from Milan settled in the U.S., there polenta and risotto may be more prevalent than pasta. Where the immigrants came from Venice, delicate seafood dominates. And where the Sicilians settled, tomatoes abound and the spices tend to be a bit... spicier.

Me?

I’m partial to New-York-Little-Italy-style Italian-American food. Rich, hearty, and flavorful. And I have a marinara recipe that simply is fabulous.

I can’t take credit for this recipe. It has been a family favorite since my mom saw it in a newspaper long ago. Brava! to whoever created it. It is delicious!

The World’s Best Marinara Sauce

2 1/2 cloves minced garlic
5 tablespoons chopped parsley
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 1/2 teaspoons salt
pepper
28 oz. can Italian pear tomatoes
1 can tomato paste
1/2 c. red wine
1 teaspoon sugar
1 bay leaf

In a large pot, saute the garlic, parsley in olive oil. Stir in all of the other ingredients. Bring to a boil and simmer (covered) for 2 hours, stirring occasionally. Remove the bay leaf.

A Note: this recipe makes for a very chunky sauce. Not a fan of chunky tomato sauce? Me either. I use a stick blender or a regular blender to make it nice and smooth after removing the bay leaf.

I use it as sauce over pasta, on pizzas, in lasagne... anywhere. I usually double this recipe and freeze part of it in individual servings:

fill muffin cups with sauce
freeze them
pop out the “pucks” of sauce and store in a ziplock baggie -- perfect to microwave for one person.

Buon Appetito!

Update: January 21

You might remember my visit to the Mercati Rialto a few months ago. Today Venice Daily Photo has an image from Venice's famous market along with a recipe for a fresh tomato sauce, Venetian-style. Enjoy!

Martin Luther King, Jr. Day: Travel and Service

January 18, 2010

Today I'm pausing to remember Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. -- his life, his work, and his legacy. He was a remarkable man. Last year I blogged about the historic sites and memorials across the country which pay homage to Dr. King.
Link: The Gypsy's Guide: Martin Luther King, Jr.: Historic Sites and Memorials (view on Google Sidewiki)

And today my pledge remains in place: follow my blog or leave a comment, and I'll make a donation in your honor to the relief efforts in Haiti. For more information, check out Help for Haiti.

"With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.