By Jude Waterston
I am rarely blue, but, if I find myself in a depressed funk, I have the despicable habit of allowing myself to wallow for a day or two. I am not above shedding tears or wearing what some would describe as “a sad clown face,” the corners of my mouth turned down as if dragged by tiny weights.
During the blustery winter months of January, February, and March, I occasionally experience brief periods of despair accompanied by a certain amount of self-pity. Coincidentally, this is the time of year when my sister, Janet, and I close our house upstate until spring and I haven’t my usual get-away from the city and the confinement of my one room apartment to appease me and lift my spirits.
I speak with Janet daily and more than just once or twice. Inevitably, she is made painfully aware of my dark mood. She’s all sympathy and support at the start, though if the whining continues for more than, say, 48 hours, she changes gears. “Why don’t you daydream about when we’ll reopen the house and what you’ll cook for us,” she suggests.
And then, miraculously, something snaps in me and the cookbooks come off the shelves and I dive into them, turning the pages expectantly, as if I am in the midst of a great thriller or mystery novel. Besides the euphoria I experience when I’m chopping and dicing, and the pride I feel in my culinary abilities, the act of cooking clears my head. Concentrating on the chore at hand, I haven’t 
the time or inclination to harp on the stuff that sometimes drags me down. I am immersed in the very pleasant world of butter, heavy cream, diced vegetables, flour, fish, and fowl. I am freed.
Recently, after a bleak period that I had trouble shaking, Janet made her usual suggestion, and I grabbed a cookbook I had gotten along with half a dozen others when I joined a cookbook club last year. I had yet to consult this volume by Carol Field called Italy in Small Bites. She writes of a centuries-old tradition of between-meal repasts called merende (or sometimes spuntini. They are usually eaten mid-morning or mid-afternoon and can be comprised of any number of local ingredients. In the early evening, the partaking of these little bites is a way of socializing and gathering to share food, drink, and good conversation.
The archetypal merenda are bruschetta, slices of chewy country bread grilled, rubbed with a cut garlic clove, drizzled with extra-virgin olive oil, and sprinkled with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper. Equally popular are crostini, toasted baguette slices, mounded with savory toppings. I can think of no easier or versatile snack than crostini. When, on a whim, I turned on my computer and went to the cooking site Epicurious, I found 75 results for crostini and the Food Network gleaned a whopping 184 examples.
Preparing crostini is a snap. Simply slice a loaf of good quality Italian baguette, on the diagonal, into ½” slices. Lightly brush the bread on both sides with fruity or peppery extra-virgin olive oil, depending on your preference, and arrange on a baking sheet in a preheated 375 degree oven. Bake, turning once halfway through cooking, until brown and crusty, about 10 to 12 minutes. Set aside briefly and start compiling ingredients.
Without even consulting a cookbook, you can let your imagination soar. Try topping the crostini with very thin slices of prosciutto or salami; drained marinated artichoke hearts topped with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and a few red pepper flakes; roasted sweet bell peppers mixed with capers and chopped fresh Italian parsley; soft, tangy goat cheese topped with lightly dressed baby arugula leaves; green or black olive tapenade; or creamy fresh ricotta cheese with a drizzle of honey and some chopped dried or fresh figs.
If you are feeling particularly energetic, you can roll up your sleeves and get down to some real cooking. A topping of wild mushrooms, sautéed greens and Pecorino Romano cheese, or chicken livers laced with vermouth are sophisticated choices. My all time favorite crostini is one bursting with full-tilt summer flavor. You have only a couple months to wait to top a crunchy, toasted baguette slice with a mixture of juicy chopped heirloom tomatoes, slivers of bright green basil plucked from the garden, a pinch of sea salt and a drizzle of the finest extra-virgin olive oil. Nothing will lift you out of the doldrums than a bite of that—the ultimate merende. Pour yourself a glass of crisp white wine or that bubbly Italian sparkler, Prosecco, while you’re at it.
Wild Mushroom Crostini
Makes about 10 to 12 small crostini
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
12 ounces assorted wild mushrooms (such as shitake, oyster, black trumpet, and cremini), coarsely chopped
1 ½ teaspoons chopped fresh thyme
1 tablespoon sherry or Marsala wine
1 tablespoon ½ & ½ or heavy cream
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
White or black truffle oil (optional)
Melt butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add mushrooms and thyme. Sauté until browned, stirring occasionally, about 8 minutes. Add sherry or Marsala and let the wine cook off, stirring, about 30 seconds. Add the ½ & ½, salt, and pepper, and let cook, stirring, about 30 seconds. Remove from heat. Mound the mushroom mixture on prepared crostini slices (that have been brushed with extra-virgin olive oil and toasted in a 370 degree oven, turning once, for 10 – 12 minutes) and drizzle sparingly with truffle oil, if desired. Serve immediately.
Chicken Liver Crostini
Makes about 10 to 12 small crostini
This recipe is adapted from Epicurious.com. It is originally from an Italian woman in Lucca, Italy. Spicy red-pepper flakes and salty capers cut through the richness of the topping.
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 shallots, minced
½ pound chicken livers, trimmed and patted dry
¼ to ½ teaspoon hot red-pepper flakes
3 tablespoons tiny capers in salt, rinsed and coarsely chopped
½ cup sweet red vermouth of Madeira wine
1 cup chopped Italian flat-leaf parsley
1 sourdough baguette, sliced ½ inch thick on the diagonal, toasted
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 lemon wedge
Heat butter and oil in a large skillet over medium heat until foam subsides. Add shallots and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 3 minutes. Add livers and raise heat to medium-high. Cook until undersides are browned, about 3 minutes. Turn livers over and add red-pepper flakes, capers, and 1 teaspoon salt. Cook until livers are just cooked through, about 5 minutes more. Increase heat to high and add vermouth or Madeira. Boil, stirring, until slightly thickened and glossy, 2 to 3 minutes. Transfer livers with a slotted spoon to a cutting board, then transfer sauce to a bowl. Coarsely chop the livers and add to sauce. Season with salt and pepper and gently stir in the parsley. Spoon the livers onto toasts and squeeze a touch of lemon juice over each. Serve immediately
The Catskill Chronicle 
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