The Waitress

("Baby Don't You Cry" from The Waitress)

It’s so hard to do a cooking project when your oven is broken! Thanks to two friends who lent me their ovens in times of need. I know I am behind, but I want to document my days of cooking I never got around to blogging.

The first was my adventures with The Waitress, starring Kerri Russell. This film has such an odd tone and humor, I never know quite what to think when I watch it. The only sure thing is: I always want to make pie. From the first few minutes of the movie, we learn that pie-making brings comfort to an otherwise dreary life for the blunt, creative waitress. I love the opening scene of Russell in the kitchen. She looks serene, in the place of absolute peace that cooking takes us. One can’t help but wonder whether the crazy pies Russell’s character, Jenna, thinks up actually taste good. Her pies have wild names. I like the idea of Falling in Love pie, Marshmellow Mermaid Pie, Naughty Pumpkin Pie, and Strawberry Chocolate Oasis pie. For the last, Andy Griffith describes it so enticingly:
Nobody in the world can make strawberry chocolate pie like you. Wednesday is my favorite day of the week just cause I get to have me a slice of it. I think about it as I’m waking up. It could solve all the problems of the world, that pie. It’s a thing of beauty….how each flavor opens itself, one by one, like a chapter in a book. First, the flavor of an exotic spice hits ya. Just a hint of it…and then you get flooded with the chocolate, dark and bittersweet like an old love affair…..and finally – strawberry – the way strawberry always was supposed to taste but never knew how…’

During my recipe research phase, I learned that there is a special boxed set of this dvd that includes recipes for some of the craziest pies. I followed (for the most part) one of these recipes for ‘I Don’t want Earl’s Baby Pie’ and for the other, Lonely Chicago Pie, I consulted cyberspace.
Before making my pies, I knew I didn’t want to cheat. I wanted to make my pie crusts from scratch. Have you ever made a pie crust? This was probably the hardest part of my Screen to Table Project. I am not going to repeat the dough recipes here, because frankly, they just did not turn out so well. After patching my holey uncooked shells, my mom told me her secret--double pie crust recipes so that you always have enough. There’s always next time.

Both of these pies are really rich, but really tasty. For both, the recommended cooking time was not nearly enough. I’d go double!

I Don't Want Earl's Baby Pie - this one is a cross between a cheese souffle and a quiche

1 pie crust, uncooked
4 Tbs. butter
3 slices ham
8 green onions- chopped
1 C. brie cheese
1 C. parmesan cheese, grated
4 eggs
2 C. heavy cream
1/4 tsp. ground nutmeg

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Cover pie crust with foil and bake for 10 minutes. Remove foil and bake 5 minutes more. Remove crust and reduce heat to 325 degrees. Julienne ham. Sauté ham and green onions with butter. Spread the mixture on bottom of pie crust. Spread brie over ham mixture and sprinkle with parmesan. Combine eggs, cream and nutmeg; pour over cheese. Bake 30 minutes or until set. Cool slightly, cut into wedges and serve. This one tastes great the next day for breakfast!

Lonely Chicago Pie - Throughout this project, I’ve found a large online community of cooks and bakers who have tried to replicate recipes from movies. I found one for Lonely Chicago Pie, the pie Jenna teaches her new-found love how to make. The original recipe I found tops the berries with chocolate instead of the other way around (as Jenna does in the movie). I edited the recipe to more accurately resemble Jenna’s steps as she makes the pie. I will say, this is an odd pie--like a pecan pie filling without the pecans, a dark chocolate bar, and all topped with berries. But somehow, this pie just works. I recommend it for those who want something different, or big fans of the movie.

1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 tbsp flour
1 tbsp ground cinnamon
1 egg, beaten
2 tbsp melted, salted butter
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups milk
1 (10 inch) unbaked deep-dish pie crust
1/2 cup fresh blackberries, lightly crushed
1 cup dark chocolate, chopped into small chunks for melting
½ cup heavy cream
1 tsp salted butter

Preheat oven to 400F.
In a large bowl, combine the sugar, flour, cinnamon and salt. Add the beaten egg, butter, and vanilla. Mix well and add the milk.
Pour mixture into crust.
Bake for 15 minutes, then reduce heat to 350F and bake 40 minutes (or until set, potentially an hour or more). While baking, heat dark chocolate in a double broiler. Once melted, add warmed heavy cream and stir. Once the spice layer sets, remove from the oven, and top with the dark chocolate. Top the chocolate layer evenly with crushed berries, return to oven and bake 10 minutes longer.
Let cool completely on rack. Chill in fridge before serving.

A little taste--no wonder we made it

Un po' piu di pasta

Here is a little mood music. In Big Night, one of three Italian food movies I watched this week, the two main characters plan a ‘big night,’ a party for the no-show Louis Prima.

What is it about Italians and food? I should know by now, considering that exactly one year ago I was on a plane, about to begin a semester in Siena. I think Italians are associated more with their food than any other group in the world (except maybe the French ). Whole books are dedicated to the subject. Whole movies are dedicated to the subject. Songs too. I’ve been thinking a ton about Italian food lately. I watched three related food movies in the last couple days: Big Night, Dinner Rush and Under the Tuscan Sun. Two are about Italian Americans with restaurants and one is about an American woman who recovers from her divorce in Tuscany. The latter may not really count as an ‘official’ food film (definition to come), because the main character is not really a chef and food is not the main subject of the movie. The main character is, however, a passionate cook, and someone who finds that as she recreates her life, and learns Tuscan cooking, she ends up with a family around her table.
I will return to discuss Big Night and Dinner Rush later, when I tackle the biggest dish in the first movie, Il Timpano. Tune in soon...

In honor of my personal Italian food film fest, I wanted to make fresh pasta. I haven’t made pasta in years, not since I was a little girl, when my mother, sister and I cranked the pasta machine in my childhood house. For this screen to table project, I wanted my recipe to be as authentic as possible. In one scene of Big Night, the two brothers, Primo and Secondo, make penne by hand. Researching handmade pasta, many recipes tell you to use a food processor and have a long list of ingredients. I wanted to make pasta the ‘real’ way, so I searched for the simplest recipe I could find. I went with Mark Bittman’s version from his The Best Recipes in the World. With so many egg yolks, this is very rich pasta. Making pasta by hand is a long process, so do it on a rainy day, when all you want is sanctuary time in the kitchen.

As I worked, I made my own food short. Take a peak, and try to figure out what’s going on.

Fresh Pasta
“You eat and then you go ‘ah.’ You kill yourself. You have to kill yourself.” (Big Night about Lasagna Bolognese)
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
3 egg yolks

1. Combine 1 ½ cups of the flour and the salt on a counter of large board. Make a well in the middle. Into this well, break the eggs and yolks. Beat the eggs with a fork, slowly and gradually incorporating a little of the flour at a time. When it becomes too hard to stir with the fork, use your hands. When all the flour has been mixed in, knead the dough, pushing it against the board and folding it repeatedly until it is not at all stick and is quite stiff. Sprinkle with a little of the reserved flour. Cover the dough with plastic wrap of a cloth and let it rest for about 30 minutes.

2. Clamp a pasta machine to the counter; sprinkle the work surface lightly with flour. Cut off about one third of the dough; wrap the rest in plastic or cloth. Roll the dough lightly in the flour and use your hands to flatten it into a rectangle about the width of the machine. Set the machine to its thickest setting and crank the dough through. If it sticks, dust with more flour. Repeat. Set the machine to its next-thinnest setting and repeat. For each setting, put the dough through the machine twice.

3. Continue to work your way through the numbers (thickness settings). Pass the dough through the thinnest setting only once. If the dough begins to tear badly, bunch it together and start again. (hint: if you are working alone, I find it easiest to cut the dough in half once the length becomes too difficult to manage, about two levels away from the thinnest setting)

4. Put the dough through your preferred pasta cutter (I made tagliatelle). Repeat the rolling and cutting process for the other dough parts. You can cook the noodles right away, or hang the strands to dry (I clean a broom handle well, and drape pasta slices individually). After drying for up to a couple hours, you can cover the pasta and refrigerate for up to 24 yours.
5. To cook the noodles, drop them into boiling salted water. They’ll be done when tender, in 2-3 minutes. Sauce immediately and serve.

As I waited for the first batch to rest, I decided if I was going to go to all the trouble to make pasta by hand, I mine as well make one more batch. I experimented. To spice up Bittman’s traditional recipe, I replaced one egg yolk with the oil from a can of sundried tomatoes. I diced a few sundried tomatoes, and threw in some basil. In Italy, I watched my host grandmom, Carla, make fresh pasta. She rolled and cut the pasta with her hands. With the pasta machine in front of me, I did not want to go to the trouble of hand rolling the dough, but I wanted to try cutting.

Leann’s Basil Sundried Tomato Hand-Cut Pappardelle
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
2 egg yolks
4 sundried tomatoes, diced
1-2 tablespoons sundried tomato oil (use from the jar)
1 tablespoon dried basil

Follow steps 1-3 above. In step one, add the last three ingredients with the eggs to the well in the flour mixture. The sundried tomato bits makes this pasta trickier to handle. You may not be able to reach the thinnest pasta rolling setting because of tearing. Just use the next-to-last setting.

Lay sheets of thin pasta on your lightly floured counter. Using a sharp knife, cut strips about 1 inch thick. Drape pasta over a broom handle to dry. Follow cooking steps above.
Since this pasta is so rich, and already has a tomato basil flavor, a light, simple sauce is all you need. I heated a few tablespoons of oil in a skillet with one clove of garlic, salt and pepper.

For the plain pasta, I adapted a bechamel sauce (from Giada’s Everyday Pastas) with prosciutto:
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
¼ cup all-purpose flour
1 ½ cups warm whole milk
salt and pepper to taste
3 slices prosciutto, diced

Melt the butter over medium heat in a small saucepan. Add the flour and whisk until smooth. Gradually add the warm milk, whisking constantly, until the sauce is thick, smooth and creamy, about 8 minutes (do not let the sauce boil). Add the prosciutto, and continue cooking as you stir for 2 more minutes. Remove from heat and stir in salt and pepper. Pour the sauce into your serving dish, then add pasta. Gently mix.

“Oh my god is right. To eat good food is to be close to god.” (Primo-Big Night)

There is a certain rhythm to handling the dough. To avoid tears, you have to cradle it, treat it with a little TLC. Give it a try, and watch Primo and Secondo bicker as you go.

Anyone can cook

For many of these entries I might begin with, “one of my favorite foodie films,” but this one actually is my favorite--Pixar’s Ratatouille. If you haven’t seen it and like food, or have kids, or you are a closet Francophile, watch it immediately. Why is my favorite on the food movie list a computer animated film? A host of reasons. I love the artistry--the pink glowing images of Paris. I love the story and main theme, “Anyone can cook.” I love that the villain’s nickname is “The Grim Eater” (and that he becomes a ‘good-guy’). Finally, I just love the food.
A few best quotes:


“-You're slow for someone in the fast lane.
-And you're thin for someone who likes food!
-I don't like food, I love it. If I don't love it, I don't swallow”

“Humans don’t just survive. They discover. They create.”

“We are artists, pirates. More than cooks are we.”

For this favorite, I wanted to do something special, to share the movie and the cooking with people I thought would enjoy it most. I asked family friends if I could come over and watch Ratatouille with their three wonderful daughters. We ended the movie with a French cooking project, in part inspired by the title recipe (ratatouille), and in part by the cuisine in general (dessert crepes).














(Posing with Remy's Ratatouille)

To prepare, I had to find a very untraditional Ratatouille recipe, like the one Remy cooks for the scary critic Anton Ego. Luckily throughout this process of food film cooking, I have discovered that a large online community of bloggers, cooks, and food film buffs has already done a lot of the work for me. As far as I know, I think I’m the only one compiling this many on-screen recipes, but I am lucky to have a wealth of sources. I decided to combine two recipes. The first is for Confit Byaldi, the model dish for the film created by The French Laundry Chef Thomas Keller. This is a complex dish with a piperade and vinaigrette, probably too difficult to start with during a kids cooking lesson. I also used a less complex recipe I found from Smitten Kitchen, a food blog I stumbled onto. The dish is very impressive for the minimal amount of fuss, really just chopping and arranging. Here’s what we came up with (the recipe below makes 2 rounds):

Remy’s Ratatouille

Tomato base:
½ onion, finely chopped
2 garlic cloves, minced
Salt and fresh ground pepper to taste
2-3 tablespoons olive oil
1 can peeled, crushed tomatoes
1 tablespoon lemon juice (optional--one of the girls made this suggestion, and it adds tangy twist to ratatouille)

Sautee the onion, garlic, salt and pepper in olive oil until golden (not fully browned). Add the crushed tomatoes and simmer, stirring for a few minutes. Stir in lemon juice. Pour the sauce evenly to coat two shallow, round baking dishes.

Layered Vegetables:

1 eggplant, 1 red bell pepper, 2 small zucchinis, 2 small yellow squashes, 6 roma tomatoes
salt and fresh ground pepper to taste a few pinches thyme

Remove the ends of vegetables and core of the red bell pepper. Cut the vegetables into slices, as thin as possible.

In one baking dish, top the tomato base with a layer of eggplant. Add a few slices of bell pepper.

Atop the eggplant and bell pepper layers, arrange the slices of vegetables concentrically from the outer edge. Alternate vegetables and repeat (ie. 1 slice zucchini, then squash and tomato) until you reach the center. Add a slice of red bell pepper to the center for garnish. Add pinches of salt, pepper, and thyme.

Repeat the layering process for the second baking dish. You will have extra bell pepper. Finely chop a few slices for a vinaigrette (below).


Cover the dishes with parchment paper, cut to fit. Bake for 45-55 minutes at 375 F. The tomato sauce should be bubbling, and the vegetables not entirely limp. Remove from oven to let rest as you prepare:


(our ratatouille steamed just like in the movie!)







Secret Sauce
(the girls really liked the secret idea--this one’s up to you, but I threw this together)
1 clove garlic
2 tablespoons olive oil
¼ cup finely chopped onions
splash of white wine
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
Reserved chopped bell pepper
salt and pepper

Sautee onions, garlic and bell pepper for about 4 minutes. Add wine, vinegar, and salt and pepper to taste.

Top each serving of ratatouille with a spoonful of the secret sauce, and try a handful of grated parmesan cheese. The dish would work well with pasta.

As the ratatouille baked, I taught the girls how to make crepes. When I was around eight years old, I absolutely loved French food. I created my own ‘restaurant’ in our breakfast nook called “Leelee’s Bistro.” I went all out, researching recipes, and even created laminated menus (which I still have) of gourmet food. For my parent’s anniversary and my sister and now brother-in-law’s graduation I gave each couple a dinner at my restaurant. I remember using the fine china and purple velvet placemats, and learning how to officially set a table. My favorite dish from my restaurant was dessert crepes, and with the girls, I used the same worn out, splattered copy of a recipe from a children’s cookbook that I used as a child. My crepe-making method of pouring out excess batter is probably not the most chef-y way to do things, but this dish for me has always been more fun than serious.


Dessert Crepes
4 eggs
2 T. sugar
1 c. flour
1 c. milk
¼ c. water
1T. melted butter

Whisk the eggs in a bowl. Add sugar. Alternately whip in milk and flour. Mix in water. After melting the butter, slowly add to the batter while whisking. Chill the batter for 1 hour.


Lightly grease your pan (made for crepes, or just a small frying pan). Heat the pan on medium heat. Remove the pan from heat and pour in a few tablespoons of batter. Quickly swirl the batter around the pan, so that the bottom is covered. Pour out excess batter (this will give you a little flap on the side of the circular crepe to help flip). Set the pan back on the burner and cook over medium heat. When the crepe is light brown, carefully flip to brown the other side. Remove from the pan and repeat.



Filling ideas -- this is my favorite part of crepe making and a good way for kids to experiment in the kitchen. I brought over several crepe dishes to try out different flavor combinations:

sliced apples and caramel sauce
sliced strawberries and nutella
sliced bananas and nutella
blackberries and lemon juice

Place fillings in the center of the crepe (it is easiest to spread your sauce first and then add fruit).
Gently fold over one side and roll up your crepe. Place the crepe seam side down.
For the sliced apple crepes, I placed them under the broiler to soften the fruit and caramelize the sugar.

Top crepes with chocolate sauce and whipped crème. Voila!
___________________________________________________

Whenever I watch Ratatouille (and I’ve seen it many many times) my favorite part is the critic’s reaction. After eating Remy’s ratatouille masterpiece, Ego has a flashback to his childhood, when his mother made him the comforting soup. In this cooking day, I definitely had one of those flashback moments, as I am sure I will continue to have in my screen to table month. Cooking was a major part of my childhood, and I always dreamed of having a restaurant. Food has a way, maybe it’s all the senses involved, of reminding us of the best of times.

After the enlightening meal, Ego writes this essay on criticism:

"In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the new. The world is often unkind to new talents, new creations. The new needs friends."

The quote may be from a pixar movie, but it has substance. I hear the funny villain with the pointy nose say this, and I think of the critics who hated impressionists, and of course, film critics. Food and film have much in common. Both are creative processes that require inspiration and lots of work. Both are created for the eventual appreciation by an audience, and with an audience comes the professional critic. I am skeptical of many critics. The regular film critic for my local newspaper always makes me angry with his unnecessary distaste for anything popular. Then again, there are critics who encourage us to experience the new, fresh creations, like Remy’s Ratatouille. These are the critics to celebrate.

Final note: I would like to thank the Komar girls for their enthusiasm and expert help in the kitchen! Keep up the cooking.

Tortilla Soup

Tortilla Soup is one of my favorite foodie films, about three daughters, their semiretired chef father, and the star of the show, fresh Mexican cuisine. My favorite scene is when the three sisters sing a spanglish version of "Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps" by Lila Downs.

In Tortilla Soup food plays several roles. First, as Robin Balthrope writes in Reel Food, food represents ethnicity and culture. The opening scenes show the father character, Martin, grilling cactus and peppers, creating a colorful feast for his family. The chef in the film is the protector of tradition. Second, as in many other food films (and outside of the theater of course too), food shows love. Martin loves on his daughters; perhaps he does not always understand their life choices, yet he wants them close, where he can dote on them with tasty dishes. Finally, food in the film facilitates communication. Every time the family sits for their traditional Sunday dinner, someone says, "I have an announcement" and their world is turned upside-down. The group’s unity is repeatedly threatened by one of the adult daughter’s moves for independence. Their love and the tradition of family dinner sees them through each startling change.

For my first screen to table project, I researched the chefs that prepared the food in Tortilla Soup, Susan Finiger and Mary Sue Milliken. For a short biography of the latin food duo, see http://marysueandsusan.com/ .

I found the chefs’ recipes for several dishes in the film and prepared a mini Mexican banquet for my parents and boyfriend. The first, and probably best of the four was the namesake, an excellent tomato and stock based tortilla soup. I highly recommend this one.

Tortilla Soup's Tortilla Soup
5 garlic cloves peeled
10 Roma tomatoes, cored and quartered
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 large yellow onion, diced
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 cups chicken stock
1 dried chipolte chili, stemmed and seeded
3/4 pound tortilla chips

Toppings (“I say, the more toppings, the merrier”)
1 bunch (1/2 cup) cilantro leaves
1 avocado, peeled, seeded and diced
1/2 cup crema (available in Mexican markets)
2 limes cut in wedges
Place the garlic and tomatoes in blender until smooth. Heat the olive oil in a large stockpot over low heat. Add the onion, salt and pepper and cook, stirring frequently, until pale brown and caramelize, about 10 minutes. Stir in the tomato puree and cook 10 minutes longer, stirring frequently.
Pour in the chicken stock and add the chipolte chili. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook uncovered for 20 minutes. Stir in the tortilla chips and cook 10 minutes longer until the chips soften. Remove and discard the chili.
Serve hot with cilantro, avocado, crema, lime wedges and some extra crisp fried tortilla chips for adding at the table. Makes 10 servings
(from Dallas Morning News, Aug 15, 2001).

I always enjoy a good cooking experiment, so I hunted for a recipe for the green corn tamales prepared in the film. Although not as satisfying as my family’s traditional beef and homemade chili tamales, these are healthy, vegetarian, and EASY. They make for a festive side dish, a new spin on polenta.

10 ears corn (I substituted 5 ears corn and one can, because corn is not easy to find in Jan.)
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground pepper
1/2 cup heavy cream
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup hominy grits
serve with sour cream and salsa verde

Remove the corn husks by trimming off both ends of the cobs, trying to keep the husks whole. Place the largest husks in a pot of hot water and set aside to soak. Remove the kernels from ears.
Melt the butter in a large skillet over moderate heat. Add the corn and its juices, the salt, pepper, and the cream and simmer until the mixture thickens, 5 to 8 minutes. Set aside to cool. Then stir in the baking powder and grits and reserve in the refrigerator.
Drain the corn husks on paper towels. Make ties for the tamales by cutting a few of the husks into strips.
To stuff the tamales, overlap 2 or 3 husks and spread about 3 tablespoons of corn filling down the center. Fold over the sides and then the ends to enclose the filling. Tie with a corn husk string. Repeat with the remaining filling and additional corn husks.
In a steamer or a pot fitted with a rack, make a bed for the tamales with the remaining corn husks. Add the tamales and steam over low heat for 1 hour. Remove from the steamer and let rest 10 minutes. Serve hot with salsa verde and sour cream. Makes 10 to 12 tamales, or 6 servings.

Martin served another new dish I’ve been meaning to prepare--fried plantains-- so I included it in my Tortilla Soup night. I like this explanatory video:

(these were my plantains)

http://video.about.com/latinfood/Fried-Plantains.htm

Finally, I recreated Martin’s Belle Melange, the Mexican bread pudding he makes to save the day for his restaurant. Warning: this is rich, gooey, and definitely not diet food. It is a mix between the inside of an apple pie and a classic bread pudding. I wanted to copy the plating in the movie, so I used mint, crema and blackberries as garnishes.

1 stick unsalted butter
1/2 load French bread or baguette, with crust, cut into small cubes
1 pound brown sugar
1 1/2 cups water
1 1/2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
2 large Granny Smith apples, peeled, cored and chopped
1 cup walnuts chopped
1/2 pound cream cheese, chilled and chopped
Garnish ideas: crema, fresh mint, blackberries

Preheat oven to 350 F. Butter a 13x 9 inch glass casserole dish.
Melt butter in a medium saucepan, add the bread cubes and stir to coat evenly. Spread the cubes on a baking sheet and bake 15 minutes or until lightly brown and crisp. Remove the bread and turn the oven temperature up to 400 F.
Combine the sugar and water in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat. Stir in the cinnamon and set aside.
In a large mixing bowl, combine the apples, walnuts, cream cheese and toasted bread cubes. Drizzle with the sugar syrup and mix to evenly distribute. Transfer the mixture to the prepared pan.
Bake, uncovered, stirring occasionally for 15 minutes. Then bake an additional 5 minutes without stirring, until the top is golden brown and crusty and the liquid is almost gone. Makes 8 to 10 servings.

To emulate the Tortilla Soup experience, share these recipes with the ones you love, and don’t forget Lila Downs or some fast spanish guitar. Bon appétit!

(left: the Dameron Tortilla Soup dinner al fresco)

The Screen to Table Project

Have you ever watched a movie that made your mouth water and gave you the urge to grab an apron? Well I have! For this January Term I've decided to undertake a project to combine two of my favorite activities - cooking and cinema. Throughout the month I will watch movies from the food film genre and later cook recipes inspired by the dishes on screen.

The List for Consideration
(No promises. I doubt I'll get to all of them):

The Big Night
Under the Tuscan Sun
Dinner Rush
Eat, Drink, Man, Woman
Tortilla Soup
Ratatouille
What's Cookin'?
The Waitress
Julie & Julia
Bella Martha
Chocolat
Simply Irresistible
Like Water for Chocolate
No Reseravations
Babette's Feast
The Last Holiday
The Cook, the Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover
Woman on Top
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

From homeade pasta in The Big Night to Mole Chicken in Chocolat I'll share my favorite recipes from screen in this blog, as well as my take on the films themselves. I hope you enjoy and maybe grab an apron yourself!