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Authors: Caroline Manzo

Let Me Tell You Something (8 page)

BOOK: Let Me Tell You Something
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Italian Garden Tomato Salad

Put those Jersey tomatoes to use! Here's a simple quick recipe for an old-time family favorite.

5–6 large Jersey tomatoes (or fresh local farm stand tomatoes, the tastiest you can find!), cut into wedges

1 cucumber, sliced with skin on

1 green pepper, sliced

1 small red onion, thinly sliced

1 long hot pepper (optional), thinly sliced

Fresh basil, to taste

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

Kosher salt and fresh ground pepper, to taste

Combine the tomatoes, cucumber, pepper, onion, and hot pepper in a salad bowl. Season with the fresh basil, extra virgin olive oil, kosher salt and fresh ground pepper to taste.

Nondiet watchers out there: make sure you have a nice loaf of Italian bread paired with this salad. Delicious!

Pasta e Fagioli

Albie can't get enough of this dish. If he had his way, I'd make it every time he visited.

3–4 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil

2 small celery ribs, chopped

4–5 garlic cloves, chunked

A handful of diced pancetta, optional

5–6 fresh plum tomatoes, diced (or 1 16-oz. can diced tomatoes)

1 can chicken broth

1 16-oz. can cannellini beans with liquid

2-inch rind from block of Pecorino-Romano or provolone cheese

1 box ditalini or small shells pasta, cooked and drained

Salt and pepper, to taste

Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, to taste

Heat the olive oil in a pan over low to medium heat. Add the celery, garlic, and the optional pancetta. Sauté until the garlic browns a bit and the celery becomes transparent.

Add the diced tomatoes, stir and let simmer for about 15 minutes.

Add the chicken broth, cannellini beans with their water, and cheese rind, and let simmer on medium heat for about 25 minutes. (When cheese rind gets mushy, remove from the pot and set aside.)

Add the pasta, top with a drizzle of the olive oil, salt and pepper to taste and grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese—DONE!

SERVES 4.

Struffoli

This is an old family recipe that my grandmother used to make. We make it only on Christmas, and we usually fight over every last piece.

3 eggs

½ stick melted butter

Juice from ½ fresh orange

1 cup sugar

1 tsp. vanilla

3 cups flour

½ tsp. baking powder

2 cups Crisco

2 cups honey, or to taste

Candied sprinkles, to taste

In a medium mixing bowl, whisk together the eggs, butter, juice, sugar, and vanilla until well blended. Add the flour and baking powder to form a soft dough. Roll the dough into half-inch-wide ropes. Cut the ropes into 2-inch pieces. Melt the Crisco in the frying pan over medium to high heat. Cook dough pieces until golden brown and set aside. Pour as much honey as desired over the fried dough. Shake the sprinkles over the top and serve warm. Enjoy!

Roasted Brussels Sprouts

This is Lauren's ultimate side dish. It's great to serve alongside chicken cutlets, or any grilled meat.

1 pound brussels sprouts, cut in half

3–4 Tbsp. olive oil

Kosher salt to taste

Fresh ground black pepper, to taste

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

In a mixing bowl, toss the brussels sprouts with the oil, and salt and pepper, to taste. Pour the mixture onto a cookie sheet and bake in the oven for 25–30 minutes.

Remember:
it's Christmas presence,
not Christmas presents.

As much as I spoil my kids, they're not spoiled rotten. And I bet you, if they got nothing at Christmas, they'd be fine with it as long as I kept up the traditions that we have around the holiday. They love our Christmas routine much more than any gifts they've ever received.

When they were very young, we started a tradition where the kids would get to choose the wrapping paper that Santa would wrap their gifts in. We'd all go to Friendly's and eat dinner and then get the ice cream dessert with the face on it, you know the one I mean. After that we'd go to a store and they'd pick out their Christmas wrapping paper.

My sons are grown men now, but a week before Christmas, they'll both ask me when we're going to go buy the wrapping paper. They do it like they're indulging me, like they've outgrown the tradition. But I know deep down, if they didn't have the wrapping paper under the tree, it wouldn't be Christmas to them. Even though we're all busy, we all make time for the little things, and I love it that each of my kids will drag me to a CVS the week before Christmas so they can pick out their paper.

I spend all night on Christmas eve wrapping the presents, and the kids know which present is theirs by the wrapping paper. The funny thing is, this tradition started as a way for me to not have to do gift tags because I didn't want them to recognize my handwriting on the cards. Now it's an essential part of our holiday. This is a tradition that I love, but let me tell you, it's become a hell of a lot of work.

I don't finish cleaning up on Christmas eve until around 2:00
AM
. I'm one of those crazy neat freaks, I have to wash all the dishes, put them away, and return the furniture to its original home before I go to bed. And then I have the extra task of wrapping all those friggin' presents.

I wrap around seventy-five gifts, including gifts for Al, and of course the dogs get gifts too. These days, Lauren wraps the gifts that Al buys for me, and she is in charge of putting them under the tree. I don't care if it kills me. I'm usually crying by the end of all that wrapping, I have paper cuts and my legs have gone to sleep and I never want to see a roll of sticky tape ever again. But it's completely worth it because it's a tradition they love and value even more than the gifts in those boxes.

We've always made sure the kids got just what they wanted for Christmas. You know, those must-have toys that sell out immediately and you have to pay hundreds of dollars for on eBay? Whether it was Furbys or Cabbage Patch Kids or the latest video game system, Al would make sure the kids got it. All the local businesses have their Christmas parties at The Brownstone, including the toy companies. As they booked their Christmas party, he'd say, whatever the hottest thing on the market is, bring it with you. He moved heaven and earth to get the kids what they wanted, but he always knew enough people to make it happen. There were so many things that the kids never asked for because they thought they couldn't get it, and Al would still get it for them.

But I have also learned that the simplest gifts, the ones that cost the least, become the most cherished. When my dad hit hard times while I was growing up, my mother would make us our Christmas gifts. The things my mother made me are still my most treasured possessions. She is so artistic. She makes picture frames and painted boxes. My dad made all the boys beautiful handmade wooden chests, and my mother painted them.

These days, my own kids will ask my parents to make them something for Christmas. Lauren treasures the beautiful boxes that my mom made her. There's nothing I need, there's nothing you can buy me, but for my kids to have gifts made by my parents means the world to me.

It's not about the presents, it's about the traditions, it's about family. Christmas Day has always been the one day that Al has taken off work. It's the only day of the year that I can be certain he'll be at home. And he loves it as much as I do.

On Christmas morning, he gets his robe and his camera and he takes his sweet time coming downstairs, mainly to drive the kids crazy. The more they complain, the slower he goes. It's sweet, and it's hilarious.

Then they open their gifts one at a time, in turn. It's not like a frenzy. It's very personal, and everybody sees the gifts that each other gets. I have so many photos of them opening gifts, and nothing makes me happier than seeing the look on their faces when they get a gift that touches them.

I don't think Christmas is any more important than any other holiday. It's just the holiday that has become the most important to my family. Depending on your faith and your family, you can make any day of the year the most important. That's up to you.

A while back I received a letter from a viewer whose husband was serving overseas. She wrote me that the most difficult part of this for her was that he wasn't home for Christmas and he wasn't going to be home until July. I said, that's fine—have Christmas in July. Make your own Christmas. Christmas doesn't have to be on Christmas Day. I told her to get a tree, even a fake one, and decorate it. You're making memories here, you don't need to do it by anyone else's calendar. Christmas is not December 25, it's whatever day you need it to be. It's the day when you can all be together and can create a wonderful day for your family.

I've received some sweet things from fans—and some crazy things too!

I've generally been very lucky with gifts from fans. I've heard some horror stories about weird fan mail and very strange presents, but for the most part, I just get candles, books, and jewelry. The nicest thing I ever got was a collage made for me by a viewer. She collected all these things that she knew I liked just from watching the show, and she made me a lovely collage, framed it, and sent it to me.

The strangest fan encounter happened at a BLK Water signing. I was talking to a woman who was wearing a gorgeous $900 Tory Burch jacket. I complimented her on it, and she went and bought me one and sent it to me. I couldn't believe it! It was so kind and generous. I love that coat!

Christmas is my favorite holiday. It's magical. Not because of the presents. Because of the way New York City is decorated in lights. Because the family gets together. Because the gifts appear perfectly wrapped underneath the tree. It's an important time for me, and I make sure each and every year I am completely present in the moment to take it all in.

Ask Caroline

Hey Caroline. If you know that one of your family members is in financial distress, do you think it's better to wait until they ask for help, or go to them privately and offer to help in any way you can, before they ask?

First, I would try to find out the hows and whys of the situation. I'd approach the relative and have an open and honest conversation. If you feel comfortable with lending or giving them money, then by all means help. They may be relieved and more than happy to accept your help.

I do have to warn you that if you lend the money out, you have to do it with the mind-set that you may never get the money back. I've seen this happen time and time again and it's ruined more relationships than I can count.

You have a good heart. Your family is lucky to have you. Good luck with this one.

My house is a home, not a
museum. Kick your feet up
and relax. If something spills,
that's what mops are for.

In many ways, our house is an extension of The Brownstone. It's a place where you can come and get fed, you can laugh, you can hang out, and if you spill something, someone will clean it up for you. We always wanted our home to be informal, and welcoming. It's a nice house, but more important, it's a place where I want people to be comfortable and to have fun.

We've always welcomed all of our extended family and all of our kids' friends, at any time of the day or night. Of course, my kids took it way too far sometimes—it wasn't uncommon for me to come home and find a complete hockey game going on in my living room, or a football game being played in the upstairs hallway. It was hectic and I loved it.

I'd be making sauce in the kitchen and a football would sail by and smash a jar. A lot of things got broken. I hardly ever knew who broke what, they were all so good at covering for each other, and nobody ever admitted to breaking anything. I'd get angry when something got broken, but I'd get over it. I have a lot of sentimental things in my house, but if my house was burning down, I'd get my kids out first and then I'd rescue the photographs. The rest is just stuff.

BEHIND THE SCENES

When the camera crew arrives at my house at the beginning of each season, they turn it upside down. They take down all the pictures in my house, they hide lights in cabinets that usually house cookbooks, and they tape waxed paper over every light fixture to reduce the camera glare. They wreck my house—they've broken things, they've torn wallpaper, and they've chipped and scratched my floors and walls. When they break something, they send an appraiser to assess the damage, and then they have someone come fix it. They've damaged a lot of stuff shooting this season—the repair bill is going to be a whopper! It's all part of the job, but it's startling to see how much they have to change my home before it's ready for shooting.

For as long as we've lived in this house, it has always been filled with laughter and conversation. That's much more important to me than keeping the floors clean and the shelves spotless. If your house is a museum, dirty it up a little. Invite people over and cook up something simple and delicious. Open a few bottles of wine and have your friends drink with you in the kitchen while you cook. Informal, spontaneous nights at a friend's home can be much more special than a formal dinner party—and if you're the host, you can actually enjoy yourself a hell of a lot more.

Don't keep a guest list either—if someone is coming over and they call and ask if they can bring a friend (or two, or three), just say sure, and welcome those strangers and have the best time you can with them. Whether you like them or not doesn't matter—set them on the couch with a nice glass of wine and get to know them.

When the boys were teenagers, we would have twenty kids at a time at the house. They would have sleepovers all the time. Every year, on New Year's Eve I wouldn't know how many kids were staying over, but I always knew it was going to be a lot. They'd arrive early and we'd drive them all over to The Brownstone. I'd take all their car keys away so they couldn't drive, and at the end of the night we'd bring them all back to the house. On New Year's Day I'd always put out a huge breakfast with coffee and bagels and there'd be twenty kids laughing and joking.

BOOK: Let Me Tell You Something
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