Sweet Vespa

Ever since I caught my first glimpse of a real Vespa, I have been in love. To this day, the pleasing muttering of their engines and their happy sounding horns make me think of a warm summer evening in Italy, of licking a gelato in a piazza, my hair blowing in the wind, not a worry in the world.

The closest I ever came to a Vespa was a little automatic Zündapp motorbike, which was the German version of the beloved Italian scooter. I worked on my mother for an entire year, until she finally broke down, and I rolled my very own shimmery purple beauty right out of our family's motorcycle business-showroom. It drove all of 15 miles per hour, no driver's license or helmet were needed, and the only requirement was being 15 years old. It was pure joy.

Unfortunately, I find that neither a little motorbike nor a Vespa are very practical for me these days. But I still like all things Vespa, not only for the great memories of my little motorbike, but also for the Italian tie-in. It's amazing how many Vespa accoutrements are out there, and they all keep my love alive. My latest is the cutest little scooter cookie cutter that my sister Sophie sent from Italy. I have baked Vespa cookies ever since.

My cousin Carol, who always comes up with a new Vespa accessory, has given me the most perfect cookie recipe. I don't typically go crazy over cookies, and I am not too fond of ones with frosting, but these are an exception and just too yummy to pass up. They are rich and sweet, crumbly and tender, and the icing melts in your mouth. A hint of spicy-fragrant nutmeg gives the cookie character and sprightly lemon zest in the buttery frosting is just the ticket. They are happy little cookies and any shape works: hearts, stars, you name it. I just happen to love Vespas!

Cousin Carol's Sour Cream Cookies

1/2 cup butter

1 cup sugar

1 egg

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 2/3 cups unbleached flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon soda

¼ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg

Lemon zest of 1 lemon

½ cup sour cream (not low fat)

Heat oven to 425 degrees.  Mix butter, sugar, egg and vanilla in a bowl using electric mixer until well combined.  Mix dry ingredients together with lemon zest and nutmeg in separate bowl. Add to creamed mixture alternately with sour cream and blend on low speed until ingredients start to come together. Finish kneading dough by hand until smooth. Wrap in clear plastic wrap and let rest in refrigerator for ½ hour. Roll to 1/8 inch thickness on well floured surface.  Cut with your favorite cookie cutter and place on parchment paper-covered baking sheet. Bake 8 to 10 minutes until fragrant and golden brown.

Lemon Butter Cream Icing

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened

2 tablespoons lemon juice

2 tablespoons milk

Zest of 1 lemon

2 cups powdered sugar

Mix all ingredients, using additional milk if needed to get the desired consistency. Spread on cooled cookies and enjoy.

Der Wienerschnitzel

Years ago, when America was still new to me, it cracked me up when people told me with conviction that Wiener Schnitzel is a hot dog. While I was longing for a crispy breaded pork chop when driving by one of the tall Wienerschnitzel restaurants with their steeply pitched roofs, folks where happily chomping down on a hot dog.

The name is very tongue-in-cheek funny and a clever example of America 's ingenious way of playing with words. A “Wiener” is indeed the slangy name for a hot dog in Germany, coming from “Wiener Wuerstchen,” but that is where the similarities end.

A true Wiener Schnitzel is made of a thinly pounded piece of veal, breaded and quickly deep-fried. In its hometown of Vienna, Austria I've seen them larger than dinner plates, the meat thin as a sheet of paper, served with lemon wedges and sometimes with a little mound of local cranberry preserves. 

On the other hand, in Germany, I know Wiener Schnitzel as a boneless pork chop: tenderized, breaded and quickly pan-fried in butter. It's slightly chewier than veal with a pleasantly meaty taste. I have devoured Cotoletta alla Milanese in Italy where lean bone-in breaded veal is cooked in olive oil. And in Argentina, my beef-loving friend of same origin, Carola, tells me, a Milanesa is typically prepared with a flattened piece of filet (beef or pork).

In the end, it's always a lean cut of meat, pounded very thin, and dipped first in flour, then in a salt-and-pepper-seasoned egg wash, and lastly in fine breadcrumbs. It's quickly pan-fried to crispy deliciousness, served hot with a flavorful interior while mouthwatering scents hang around the kitchen. I pile a salad of spicy arugula and a few sweet cherry tomatoes tossed in a lemony vinaigrette on top. A perfect juxtaposition of hot and crunchy with cool and fresh. Nothing against hot dogs, but when it comes to Wienerschnitzel, this is what I'm talking about.

Wiener Schnitzel with Lemony Arugula

Serves 4

8 Pork loin chops, boneless and wafer thin, 2 ½ oz each

1 cup all-purpose flour

1-1 1/2 cups fine, unseasoned breadcrumbs

2 eggs, whisked and generously seasoned with salt and pepper

Trim any excess fat from chops and with a meat tenderizer, pound to about 1/4 inch thickness. Distribute flour, eggs and bread crumbs into three different soup plates and dredge one pork chop at a time first in flour, shaking off any excess, then into the egg mixture until coated evenly and finally in the fine bread crumbs. Sauté in plenty of olive oil approximately 3 minutes per side until cooked through and golden brown.

Lemony Vinaigrette

2 tablespoons freshly squeezed Meyer Lemon juice

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1 teaspoon mayonnaise

1/4 teaspoon sugar

salt and pepper to taste

Whisk all ingredients vigorously until creamy and brightly yellow. Mix a few handfuls of Arugula and a couple of halved cherry tomatoes and toss with dressing. Pile high on hot Schnitzel and serve immediately.