How to Roast a Lamb_ New Greek Classic Cooking - Michael Psilakis [37]
Cut off 1-inch cylinders and transfer them to a large rimmed baking sheet on a generous bed of half flour and half semolina. The dumplings will look a bit like marshmallows. Repeat with the remaining dough and chill the dumplings for 1 hour before cooking.
Note: To freeze all or half the dumplings, freeze on flour-lined baking sheets, without covering, for 6 hours; then transfer to large zipper-lock bags, 14 at a time. If the dumplings stick together during the freezing process, you can break them apart before bagging. The frozen dumplings will take a bit longer to cook.
my first recipes
If I had to pinpoint one moment that put me on the path to where I am now—to being a chef—it would be the time I first made breakfast in bed for my parents. It was in honor of my mother’s thirty-seventh birthday.
As a child, I was limited in what I could do to acknowledge my mother’s birthday. I was only about eleven and not yet working, so I had no money of my own to buy her a gift or flowers. So I spent the days before her birthday hatching a plan to celebrate her special day in a way I thought represented what she deserved—and that would bring my parents joy and make them feel proud. I was going to cook my first meal.
Our refrigerator was always overflowing. Regardless of the day of the week or time of the year, when I opened the door, I was always ready to catch whatever might fall out. So I knew I wouldn’t have much trouble secreting away some key ingredients for a few days by utilizing the most remote corners and spaces of our fridge. No casual user was likely explore that far back.
In my excitement, and perhaps on account of a little paranoia, I wanted to be sure that by Sunday our refrigerator would still be stocked with the ingredients I would need to prepare my menu. When no one was around, I dug the English muffins out of the fridge and wrapped two up in aluminum foil, replaced the original package of English muffins, and hid the ones I had claimed in the back. I did similar recon with eggs, blueberries, and any other items I thought I might need for the big day. I wanted to keep this quiet and, in our large family, simply finding opportunities to pull this off—without anyone else inadvertently walking in on the preparations—was part of the adventure.
On my mother’s birthday, I was so excited that I was up long before the sun. My preperformance jitters were serving me well because, having no alarm clock, I had to rely on my internal clock. And I would need plenty of time to pull off this caper before my parents woke up and came downstairs.
I awakened Maria first. As the next oldest in line, she would be able to help me the most. Then I roused Anna and then Peter, who was only about three years old at the time. I enlisted them all to help me execute my plan, if only to be there to share in the excitement that was building as the clock ticked on.
I told Maria to take out the pots and pans I would need and started with four eggs sunny-side up. It was a good thing I started on these early because I broke so many yolks along the way that it took me hours to get them just right. Next I made blueberry muffins, sausage, and toast, with an English muffin for my father. I sent Maria to the garden to cut some flowers, which I put in two small vases that would adorn the breakfast trays. I finished with two bowls of yogurt topped with my mother’s preserved fruits and a glass of juice for each tray.
I carried both trays to the top of the stairs and placed them outside my parents’ door. I hurried Maria, Anna, and Peter up the stairs. I placed one tray in Anna’s hands and another in Peter’s hands (which weren’t quite steady enough, so Maria helped him with his tray). In a burst, we pushed the door open, shouted “Happy birthday!” and placed one tray in bed on my mother’s lap and the other on my father’s.
Hugs