From Scratch: A Memoir of Love, Sicily, and Finding Home(93)

Mulberry Granita

The mulberry is an edible ode to summer in Sicily. I am never happier than when Zoela and I are picking them directly from the tree. They stain our hands, and they stain our clothes. Those stains tell our story of encountering the goddess of all orchard fruits. This recipe should be made anytime you come across fresh black mulberries. Stop what you are doing, marvel at the fleeting fruit, and then welcome the beautiful stains of summer by making this quick, delicious granita. When all is said and done, chill out and enjoy the Sicilian way.

2 cups fresh mulberries, washed and then allowed to dry Juice of 2 lemons

1/3 cup sugar (honey or maple syrup is also suitable) Wash the mulberries under gently running water and allow them to dry thoroughly. Using a food processor, puree them. Set aside.

In a saucepan, combine half of the lemon juice, 1/2 cup cold water, and sugar and warm on gentle heat until the sugar is dissolved. Add the mulberry puree to the syrup followed by the remaining lemon juice.

Mix and then place in the freezer in a metal baking dish with low sides for 30 to 40 minutes. Remove and stir with a fork. This will break it up to provide a softer texture. Put back into the freezer and repeat again in 30 minutes. Repeat these steps off and on for about 3 hours. You want the granita to be firm but not frozen.

Before serving, scrape the granita with a fork to lighten the texture. Enjoy.

Makes 2 cups.





Author’s Note


To write this book, I drew from my personal journals, letters, emails, texts, and my late husband’s personal writings. When I could, I consulted with several people who appear in the book. The stories told to me—often in dialect—are full of the blanks and missing portions that characterize oral storytelling. I have changed the names and certain identifying details of most individuals in the book and some individuals are composites. Occasionally, I conflated similar events into one for clarity. I also omitted people but only when that omission had no impact on the truth or the substance of the story. Otherwise, this book is a true account of experiences as I remember them.

The recipes are mostly from my late husband’s personal notes; some are from my memory of what we ate. Some are from my mother-in-law. A few I researched and then modified, as I imagined he might do.





Acknowledgments


My first thanks go to Christine Pride, my insightful and gifted editor, for her belief in this book. With her, it grew by leaps and bounds, becoming far better because of her incisive questions and wise editorial guidance.

A very big thank-you to Richard Abate. My life became fuller and more creative from the moment he said, “I think there’s more.”

If you’re going to write a book, it helps to have a sister like Attica. She’ll read your 2:00 a.m. emails sent from a small town half a world away and say, “This is a book. I want to read this book!” Years later, she’ll remind you that she is still waiting for your book. She has all my bottomless gratitude and love.

The other person who is good to have in your corner is Shawna Kenney. She read my manuscript ten pages at a time, week after week, for a year. She generously brainstormed, listened, gently probed. Her steady and well-placed observations guided me up the mountain. And when the air felt too thin and I thought I needed to turn back, she told me to take a breath and to climb on. Thank you, dear friend.

I am grateful to my team at Simon & Schuster for their care and enthusiasm.

A resounding thank-you to . . .

My parents. Their support for this book is only surpassed by their support of me. My mother, Sherra, has always honored my life as an artist. My father, Gene, encourages me to live big. My stepmom, Aubrey, is unwavering in her belief in my dreams and her eternal optimism.

Nonna, who, through her quiet and constant love, has taught me about motherhood, fortitude, and heart. It will take a lifetime to tell her how much I love her.

Franca, Cosimo, Giusy, Laura, and Karl for lovingly supporting the idea of this book.

Sarah Gosssage, Nicole Ribaudi, Richard Courtney, Patrick Huey, Christine Bode, Ellen Ancui, Dorrie LaMarr, Susan Barragan, and the incredible Donna Chaney, for listening, always.

Solome Williams, Amy Elliott, and Aubrey for being early, attentive, and eager readers.

Monica Freeman, Glenda Hale, and Thomas Locke for testing recipes with zeal.

Julie Ariola, Maria Bartolotta, Sally Kemp, and Lina Kaplan, my wonderful guides, teachers, and exemplars who show me what I can’t always see.

Robert for being full of exquisite bravehearted love and willing to hold my hand while I looked to my past so that I could more fully step into my present.

The communities of Oak Glen, Sequoyah, and Soaring Spirits. UCLA Extension Writers Program and its many brilliant teachers, including Alison Singh Gee, Kimberlee Auerbach Berlin, and Lynn Lauber.

Ira Byock, for his work as a physician and writer and mentor.

Amy Bloom, who told me long ago, “Go to Italy.”

Vincent Schiavelli, the actor, writer, cook who came to our apartment to pick up the cake. None of us knew where our stories would lead.

Catherine Winteringham, who nursed us all in our most vulnerable hour.

A forever thank-you to . . .

The people of Aliminusa for your open hearts, indomitable spirits, and rich humor that reaches back ages. I hope to have shared even a fraction of your grandness.

Zoela, the effervescent spirit and wise soul who inspires me to live bravely and fully. How blessed I am to walk through this world by your side as your mammina. Amore, quanto ti amo.