Class of 2023
a short story and birthday’s cantuccini; last dispatch of the year
As 2023 draws to a close, I wanted to say thank you for hanging out in this corner of the internet. This newsletter is my equivalent of the kitchen window at a party, and I’m grateful you’ve joined me here. The more I write The Onion Papers, the more links I find between the cook, who must remember that the food sizzling in oil before them won’t taste the same in someone else’s mouth, and the writer who captures and conveys life in other shoes and minds than theirs. I look forward to more storytelling in the kitchen in 2024, and a few digressions, but for now here is thank you.
Now is also a funny time of the year and whether you’re craving to see a friendly face or some time for yourself, I wanted to share a short story with you this week. Fernanda’s Fish Soup was originally published in print in Harper Bazaar’s last year and is a nice follow-up from last week’s gâche recipe, as the story is set in Vendée. I hope you’ll enjoy reading and the escape.
Nana is always seen with a broom in one hand and a cigarillo in the other. A midi skirt falls underneath the fold of her knees, nickel-like colour and woollen fabric; she tucks a white shirt inside and keeps warm with a loose cardigan, the grey fading in favour of the dark side of green. Her arms cross often, her long hands holding onto the back of her shoulders, blue veins haunting the milky tone of her skin.
You can also find more information about my novels at my bookshop.org affiliated page or at my website.
Tomorrow is my birthday. While I burn candles inside my flat at a rate that makes my maman live on the edge more than necessary, I don’t like blowing candles over my cake much. But cantuccini there will be.
Every year comes the winter solstice, the sun begins its ascension up the sky, and we cook a large batch of cantuccini with Ludo. Cantuccini are dried almond biscuits from Tuscany, which are served with a glass of sweet Vin Santo after a meal. Dip, bite, bliss. This is my favourite dessert and while we’ve struggled to find Vin Santo in the UK, cantuccini taste wonderful with whisky. I bet you could switch the whisky for the beverage of your choice too; recipe from this year’s batch as follows (around 70 biscuits):
2 egg whites and 3 whole eggs
200g brown sugar
500g flour (00)
3 tbsp baking powder
200ml sunflower oil
2 tbsp vanilla essence
2 tsp sesame seeds
100g ground almonds
250g pistachio, some left whole and others roughly chopped
50g blanched almonds, some left whole and others roughly chopped
50g hazelnuts, some left whole and others roughly chopped
In a large bowl, beat the egg whites and the whole eggs. Add the sugar and mix. Add the vanilla essence, sunflower oil and sesame seeds; mix well. Mixing continuously with a wooden spoon, start adding the flour and baking powder slowly. Once you’ve a homogeneous batter, incorporate the nuts, mix well. Cover with a kitchen towel and leave the preparation to rest for 1 to 2 hours at room temperature.
Preheat the oven to 200C and prepare a baking tray with baking paper. Spread some flour over a working surface and make long logs of biscuit preparation with your hands. You should be able to make 5 or 6 with the above measurements. Place the logs on the prepared baking tray and bake them for 15 to 20 minutes (until golden). Remove the logs from the oven and lower the temperature to 140C. In the meantime, once the logs are cool enough to handle, slice the biscuits. Start from the top end, cutting diagonally, and repeat by making biscuits of approx. 1cm width. Lay the biscuits flat on a wire rack and return them inside the oven to dry. It should take 15 minutes or so. I like to keep the oven door slightly open during that process.
*We’ve played with the nuts and spices we use over the year. It’s a malleable recipe, so stick to the ratios and the method to dry the biscuits more than the components.
*Cantuccini last for weeks if they’re stored in a sealed container.
We’ve a saying with Ludo that goes It’s been a 77 cantuccini kind of day. I hope you can carve a grand day of your own this week, something easing and loving, in whatever shape hope may take. See you in the new year: I wish for 2024 to bring us closer, a permanent cease fire in Gaza, and collective healing.
Margaux
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