The Spia Family Presses On - By Mary Leo Page 0,46

I thought I was going to hurl my tea.

“You’re doing it,” I told her.

“Doing what?”

“Falling for the lure of the mob. This is how they suck you in. Their way seems so easy, so simple, but believe me, something always goes wrong. It may not happen right away, but eventually you end up like Dickey.”

She sipped her tea for a moment, put the cup down and stared at me, all serious. “You know everything I said was complete bullshit. We have a fucking severed finger in your bathroom sink, a missing dead body, a murderer who thinks we have something he was willing to kill for, and a cop who smells trouble. I’m scared out of my friggin’ mind, Mia. Could it get any worse?”

That’s when we heard heavy footsteps on my stairs.

Focaccia with Olives and Salt – Level Two or Three

3 1/2 to 4 cups unbleached flour

2 1/4 tsp. active dry yeast

3/4 cup warm water (not hot to touch)

1/3 cup Italian Blend EVOO

1/3 cup dry white wine (or water depending on your resolve)

1/4 tsp. sugar

3/4 tsp. salt

2 tbs. fresh rosemary leaves, chopped

3/4 cup chunked Kalamata olives

1/4 cup chunked Toscano olives or for a more intense flavor, use Sicilian

12 halved, pitted olives (a blend of the above)

Kneading bread dough is always soothing and distracting, so take your time with this one. It’s great to make bread whenever you’re feeling especially hostile, tense or jittery. Try to focus on the dough rather than anything else.

Drop 3 1/2 cups of flour into a large bowl, add sugar, salt and half of the rosemary. Give it a quick mix with a fork. Then make a hole in the middle, building up the flour all around the sides, like the top of a volcano. Pour in 1/2 cup of the warm water into that hole, add the yeast, and stir briefly with your fork. Let stand for about 8 minutes or until it gets creamy and bubbly. Take this time to relax, breathe in the scent of the yeast, and chop the olives. When the yeast is ready add the wine, oil, and remaining water. Make sure all the liquids are warm or at room temperature or you will kill the yeast. Mix ingredients with your hands. Here comes the level three part. When you have a nice big ball, and you’ve gotten all of the mixture to come away from the sides of the bowl (this can be accomplished by adding a bit more olive oil), move the dough to a lightly floured surface and work the hell out of it until the stickiness is gone, about five or six minutes or until it turns smooth and elastic. Add the chunked olives and knead for a few more minutes. All this kneading will take about ten full, glorious minutes to accomplish. Keep adding flour as needed.

Place this beautiful ball of dough in a clean, oiled large bowl, then flip so there’s now a soft sheen of EVOO on the top of the dough. Cover with a pretty dish towel, place in a warm spot for 1 1/2 hours or until it has doubled in bulk.

During your wait, you can clean up the kitchen, make an accompanying dish, like a beautiful salad, or take a long walk. Getting physical exercise gets those positive endorphins working, which only helps with sobriety resolve.

Set oven to 450 degrees. Gently punch down the now beautifully swollen dough. Let it sit for about five more minutes. Place it on a lightly floured surface and shape into either a 3/4 inch thick rectangle or round and transfer to an oiled baking sheet. With your fingers, press down on the dough making several indentations on the surface. Brush lightly with olive oil. Press the 24 halved olives into the depressions, sprinkle on a little coarse sea salt and the remaining rosemary. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes or until golden browned. Remove from oven, and allow to cool for about ten minutes. Cut into squares or triangles and serve. Can be eaten warm or cold.

TEN

Looking For Honey Bear

Jade Batista, a twenty-something tour guide on Alcatraz Island—a coincidence, I’m sure—was dressed in black skinny jeans, four-inch black heels, a black thigh-length sweater, accessorized in dangly silver, sat on my sofa sipping tea after she had added two packets of that pink stuff, which she pulled out of her super-sized, black, hobo bag complete with Woodstock fringe.

According to my mom, who’d brought her to my apartment—thank you very much—Jade had arrived about an