Real Soup

On the Measure of Good Fortune

The sky is mild and grey, smooth, going into layers in the East like a chalky emulsion of pastels.

Our gentle grey cat, the eldest of our identical trio, consents to perch at my shoulder under the lamp and bathe and polish her hind foot with great seriousness, lending purposefulness to the atmosphere.

The only present sounds are the intermittent, hushed, hollow, oceanic noises of various self-governing household appliances, the faint, chewing voice of the fire, plus a busy, birdy monologue coming from the greenhouse. I can absorb these and still feel silence.

I am pleased to note the morning pouring blue in onto the curtains and to behold the long fixed puffs of pine needles held by the grandfather that embraces our house; little fireworks sculptures, arching companionably down toward the glass.

Recently, I heard a blind man speak of consciously relinquishing his sighted memories so that he could more fully go toward his blindness. Those memories, he said, had become old and out of date and drew him into fixed images of the past which no longer served him well.

His candor and surprising point of view were impressive. He lived patiently with no daily impression of the sky. No faces. No paintings. No photographs. No visual track of his life.

He has worked his way into my morning, suddenly, with his talk of examining and learning from this defining loss, and with his abundant use of his experience in developing a personal philosophy that entailed no vain longings, n

o dogmatic framework, just diligent work and refined, independent thinking out of which was born true insight.

Although I can relate to his commitment to accuracy as a sort of quest, nowhere in my ledger is such a degree of acceptance.

Even though I missed much of his discussion--his taped journal entries, his account of entering what he called deep blindness, his final statement--it was apparent that his mission was not as a teacher of the blind, but as an illustrator-without hidden bitterness or unmanageable sorrow-an artist of his world.

Such input is worth close attention. Life is full of drama and unless we opt out, we will get our fair share. Just making friends offers us the emotional gamut of profit and loss and thus plenty to think about.

My day thus affected, I took a short walk and watered the houseplants and set up a number of appointments. Then I looked up some photographs, fresh wrenching ones of a circle of friends no longer the same,and I sat down to work.

Whereupon I discovered, left over from Christmas, a tiny piece of paper that had survived the broom and vacuum all these weeks.

Don't despair, it read. You will be happy.

Good, I say. Fate is at work in my household as usual, and doing a fine job in the corners.

Now here is a recipe for when the wind comes up and you want to think things over. It is Italian Panzarotti, which is cheerful. And they entail frying, which is perverse and magnetic.

For the pastry, use these measurements as approximations. If the dough seems too firm, add more milk or water; if it is too thin, flour the board more heavily. Sift into a food processor set up with a metal blade, or into a bowl:

5-6 C. all purpose flour

1 C. olive oil or 3/4 C. butter or margarine

1 tsp. salt

2-3 egg yolks

Milk or water

Work the flour into the shortening until the mixture is crumbly. Add the egg yolks and mix well, adding milk or water cautiously to make a fine, pliable, firm dough. Knead on a floured board until it is smooth and elastic, about 5 minutes. Cover with a cloth towel and allow to rest for 30 minutes.

At this point, prepare the filling. Shred:

1/2 # fresh Mozzarella cheese

Toss into the cheese

1 1/2 Tbsp. olive oil

Add:

1/2 C. freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1/4 bunch fresh spinach, chopped fine

1/4 # Prosciutto, or good ham, chopped

1/2 C. chopped well drained Italian tomatoes

2 eggs, beaten

1/4 C. fresh parsley, chopped

1/4 C. feta cheese, crumbled

salt and pepper to taste

Mix together thoroughly. Add any cheese, by the way, that melts well and is compatible with the other ingredients. You can take the filling anywhere with jack cheese, chilies, olives, or with cheddar and garlic and tomato sauce.

Now preheat a deep skillet, wok or small saucepan with about 3" of vegetable oil. Heat the oil to about 365 degrees. This temperature will bring a small test crust of bread to the surface sizzling and golden within seconds.

On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out to a thickness of 1/8" and cut into 3-5" rounds, depending on how you wish to serve.

Put about a teaspoon of the Mozzarella filling into each small round and up to 1/4 C. into the larger ones. Seal the edges by pinching them firmly together, moistening them with water if necessary.

At this point you can use up at least one of the egg whites by beating it lightly and brushing it onto the surface of each panzarotti before frying in the hot oil.

Fry 2-3 pastries at a time, turning once, until they are golden all around. This takes just a couple minutes for the small ones and up to 5 minutes for the larger ones. Remove them from the oil and drain on paper toweling.

Serve very hot with raw vegetables and salad, reasonable asides for a meal or canape that is not blessed with nuitritional merit as much as it is with good flavor. So be it