Elinor has always been an enthusiastic eater: very slow, excruciatingly tidy. “She would eat a whole fish, using her knife and fork, and leave only a tiny pile of bones in the corner of her plate,” Edward told me. He’s been dining with her for sixty years, “so I know her eating habits.”

But now they’ve changed.

I’ve seen it. Last Friday I joined them for lunch in Katonah after our trip to Arthur Avenue in the morning. Edward prepared fried whiting on the bone and a green salad. Whiting has a very simply skeleton and it is easy to push the meat off the bone, but Elinor has forgotten how. I watched while she ate with her hands, the knife and fork clearly too complicated for her to handle. It’s not like she can’t physically use them—she has only a little arthritis—but it’s like she can’t mentally organize the steps involved in cutting her food. Nor can she eat and carry on a conversation if the food on her plate requires much maneuvering. So she is silent at the table, focused on moving food from plate to mouth, eating randomly like a child, her plate, once so organized, now a mess.

Food is the enduring metaphor in our family, and the chaotic state of her eating reflects the disruption of Elinor’s mind that none of us want to believe is permanent. This has distressed Edward very much, but as he has become accustomed to Elinor’s new reality, he has taken to precutting her food (a piece of lasagna, for example, is unmanageable without precutting) or making pasta dishes that are easy to spear with a fork, like pasta with caponata. The dish is not only delicious, but more importantly, because she can manage it,  Ellie can engage a bit more in conversation.

For us, as we watch her slowly disappear, that’s as nourishing as food.

Pasta with Caponata

Edward makes caponata frequently throughout the summer with his garden eggplants. He’ll often add a sliced avocado or a can of tuna fish packed in oil when serving it as an entre, and with the leftover caponata, he makes this wonderful dish.

Serves 4

2 tablespoons olive oil
3/4 lb eggplant, peeled and diced (about 2 cups)
1 celery rib (about 1/2 cup)
1 medium onion, chopped (about 1 cup)
1 small tomato, coarsely chopped (about 1/2 cup)
2 tablespoons capers in vinegar (see Note)
2 tablespoons wine vinegar
2 teaspoons sugar
1 tablespoon pine nuts
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
¾ lb farfalle or penne pasta
1 can tuna packed in oil, drained (optional)
2 tablespoons grated Parmesan
2 tablespoons julienned fresh basil leaves

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over a medium heat. Add the eggplant and cook over a medium high heat, for 15 minutes, until lightly browned, mixing often.

Remove the eggplant with a slotted spoon and add the onions and celery to the skillet. Lower the heat and sauté, stirring occasionally. When the celery is tender, about 10 minutes, add the tomatoes. Cover and continue to cook, mixing the vegetables together, for 10 minutes more. Add the eggplant.

Drain the capers and soak them in cold water for 15 minutes. Rinse and blot on a paper towel. In a small pan heat the vinegar and sugar together. As soon as the mixture boils, add the capers, pine nuts, salt and pepper to taste (it’s fine if you like more or less capers or pine nuts). Simmer for 1 minute, and then add to the eggplant mixture. Cook over a low heat for 5 minutes. Adjust the seasoning. Transfer to a large serving bowl. The dish is best served at room temperature, but it is fine cold as well. This is the caponata, which can be served on its own, or used in the pasta dish.

Bring a big pot of salted water to a boil and ad the pasta. Cook until al dente, drain, and pour over the caponata. Add the tuna if you want. Toss gently, and garnish with the Parmesan cheese and fresh basil.

Note: If you use capers in salt, soak the capers for about 10 minutes, then drain and rinse.

This salad, like most salads, is all about technique. The sugar snaps must be laboriously julienned and the peas and broccoli boiled to tender perfection…but other than that it is stupid easy. Quite a few times I’ve julienne a big batch of snap peas from the Farmer’s Market on Union Square (I only found them on Saturdays), and then ate the salad, once with just peas, the next day with the addition of broccoli, then the addition of a handful of parsley and so on, to keep the dish going.

Sugar snap peas are marvelous raw; so good, I am not sure I will ever add heat to them again. At least, not during a July like this one.

Sugar Snap Pea and English Pea Salad
Serves 4

This recipe is terrific served at room temperature. It makes a lovely base for a piece of broiled fish or served with a mess of fried calamari.

1 pound sugar snap peas, stem ends removed and washed
1 pound English peas, shelled
2 cups broccoli flowerettes
Olive oil
Lemon juice
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/3 cup chopped cilantro

Julienne the whole sugar snap. Using a sharp knife cut each sugar snap at an angle into fine slivers. Place into a large bowl.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and add the peas. Boil until they are tender, but be careful not to overcook, 10 minutes or less should do it. Drain and add the peas to the bowl with the sugar snaps.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and add the broccoli. Boil until tender, 10 minutes or less. Drain and add the broccoli to the bowl with the sugar snaps and peas.

Toss with olive oil, lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste. Toss in the cheese and cilantro and serve. This dish is great at room temperature.

It holds in the fridge for a few days, but best without the cheese, which I add to serve.

One weekend over the winter Neni and her husband Stathis came to visit us at our cottage on Long Island. She brought a jar of tuna bottarga (dried and pulverized grey mullet roe), a pound of spaghettini, a bottle of good olive oil (from her family orchard near Athens), a couple of lemons and a couple of onions.

She minced the onions and cooked them in a good deal of oil very low and slow until the onions were utterly soft and translucent. Then she boiled thin cut spaghetti and tossed it in the oil and onion mixture with lemon juice, salt and pepper. She sprinkled bottarga on the top and that was it.

The dish was so elegant and simple and satisfying that I went on to make it many times. And not only with bottarga, which I love (it works with tuna roe as well), I’ve also added tuna or mushrooms. I toss in a jar of my home canned tuna (tuna packed in oil will do, too), or sauté mushrooms in oil or butter until they have given up their water and the water evaporates and toss them with the pasta and onions, sometimes with a garnish of chopped parsley. Bottarga, by the way, is available in many Italian specialty stores.

The truth is, this oil, onion, lemon juice combination makes an excellent base for a variety of garnishes. Since trying it, I’ve abandoned other “povera” type sauces that I’ve used as bases for garnishes: Oil and garlic? Not this year. And the leftovers make an awesome friend pasta. Oil a nonstick skillet and heat over a medium heat. Spread about 2 cups of the leftover pasta over the bottom of the skillet, turn the heat to medium low and leave it until the bottom is crusty golden brown. Flip the pasta over: I usually slip the pasta onto a plate, then flip it into the skillet to brown the other side. I like to serve it in wedges with a bit of hot sauce and a green salad.

Neni’s Awesome Pasta with Onions and Bottarga
Serves 4

Neni used dried grey mullet roe bottarga (pictured above), but you can also use whole lobes, which you can find in Italian import stores or online, Gustiamo sells both. Whole grey mullet roe must be grated to serve. Be sure you pull off the wax casing if it is packaged in wax, and peel off the membrane around the roe before grating.

1/3 cup olive oil
2 cups finely chopped white onion
Juice from 2 lemons
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
3/4 lb spaghettini or fine egg pasta like taglierini (that’s what’s pictured; see Note)
About 1/4 cup powdered or grated bottarga

Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over a low heat. Add the onions and cook them very low until they surrender, about 15 minutes. The onions must never brown and must be extremely soft.

Bring the pasta to a boil and cook until al dente, drain and add to the onions, reserving a bit of the pasta water. Add the lemon juice, salt and pepper to taste and toss to combine the ingredients.

If the pasta is not served immediately, add some of the drained pasta water to keep everything moist.

Plate the pasta and garnish with the bottarga.

Note: The pasta type must be very thin. This recipe won’t work with spaghetti.

Elinor has a robust appetite, thanks to Edward’s cooking. At lunch recently she plowed through a quarter of a watermelon while explaining to me how Robin Williams was coming over to visit later. This, after a fabulous vegetable soup, which I will post next week. But today, something from Neni: My new favorite pasta sauce! See The Greek Kitchen Ecosystem column on this site.

With love, Eugenia

But Edward is another story. He trudges up to the studio to paint, turning over the garden, going to Arthur Avenue on Fridays to shop and hang out with his buddies and talk food. Maybe his naps after lunch are a little longer, but he is like a tugboat: strong and tough and slow, he pulls along the whole artifice of the house, the garden and the studio–the life they had–behind him into the next day.

Twice a day he cooks for himself and Elinor: fish on Fridays and Saturdays, chicken on Sundays with vegetables, pasta for lunch only, and liver, fava beans, and oysters because Elinor is anemic. They sit at the table, and have a glass of Edward’s homemade wine. He’s using up bottles in the wine cellar these days, and loves to say “I made this in 1978 and it’s better than ever, but you have to add some ice.” This, to mitigate the sourness. In fact, I think all the whites in the cellar have turned. If Elinor is not too agitated, after a glass or two they take a nap together on the couch. In the evening, Edward makes lighter fare. This month he’s been making chicken and spinach soup.

It’s incredibly easy and surprisingly delicious, even a bit rich tasting, but the success of this dish depends on homemade stock. Edward makes his every Sunday evening with the chicken carcass from Sunday lunch. It is one of the patterns that I think keeps him going, in more ways than just nourishment.

Spinach Soup
Serves 4

2 pints chicken or beef stock
4 bird’s nest pasta
4 cups spinach leaves, washed
Juice from ½ lemon
4 tablespoons Parmesan cheese
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

In a medium sized pot, bring the stock to a gentle boil over a medium heat. Add the pasta and spinach. Cook until the pasta is al dente and the spinach has wilted. Add the lemon juice, Parmesan, and seasoning, and serve.

I’ve been canning tuna fish for years, but after trying this crazy good (and super simple) tuna confit recipe, I may never bother again.

Neni’s tuna confit is a short-term preservation where chunks of tuna are simmered in olive oil and stored in the fridge. When I first tasted it I did the chair dance–I was just shaking and wiggling with pleasure. It was the one of the most tender, delectable, soft and sweet tuna dishes I’ve ever had. Not only that, it’s a great way to utilize this very special fish and have enough product on hand to make other dishes.

So what to do with this splendid stuff? Neni uses it in a non-mayonnaise salad with preserved lemons; with pasta in a white wine sauce; on toasted bread with avocado; in a summer tomato salad; and just by itself, with freshly ground black pepper and lemon wedges. I prepared numerous delicious dishes with it, too. I made a pesto of boiled broccoli, pignoi, and garlic, and tossed it with linguini fini and pieces of the tuna confit; a warm potato, olive tapenade and potato salad, garnished with parsley;  a pureed tuna sauce with a little homemade chicken stock and lots of black pepper, and poured it over thin slices of roasted lamb to make a quick Lamb Tonnata; and combined the bits and pieces at the end of the jar with homemade mayonnaise and chopped pickles and dumped the tuna salad onto a potato roll. We both used the flavored oil in all these dishes and, after the tuna was gone, continued to use the oil (refrigerated of course) in other recipes.

Tuna is a low acid food so it must be pressure canned to be shelf stable. Pressure canning brings the interior temperature up high enough to kill all spoilers that might be present in the flesh. Because we are not pressure canning, this recipe must be refrigerated.

Neni’s Tuna Confit
You will need a 4 to 6 cup capacity wide mouthed jar with a tight lid for this confit (I used a hinged lid jar.)

1 1/2 lbs tuna, washed, dried, cut in the largest chunks possible, skin off
2 bay leaves
1 heaping tablespoon sliced garlic
Small bunch fresh thyme (10 to 12 sprigs)
1 heaping tablespoon dried marjoram (See Note)
1 teaspoon salt
3 ½ cups olive oil

Sterilize the jar and lid by boiling in water for 10 minutes at sea level, adding 1 minute for every 1,000 feet above sea level.

Place the tuna in a small heavy pot (I used a #18 Le Creuset dutch oven) so it fits snuggly. Cover in olive oil. Depending on the size of your pot, you may need more or less oil. You don’t need fine olive oil for this recipe. Add the bay leaves, garlic, thyme, and marjoram. Cover, place over the lowest heat you can (I have electricity; I put it on “low.”) Simmer for 20 minutes, until you see miniscule bubbles coming up from the bottom in a continuous ribbon. Cook this way for 10 additional minutes. You will smell the tuna cooking.

Remove from heat and pull out the tuna with tongs. Pack into a sterilized jar. Cover with oil and add salt. Cover the jar with a dishtowel and allow the tuna and oil to come to room temperature, 6 to 12 hours. Cover the jar with its cap and refrigerate. You can use the tuna for up to 10 days according to USDA standards, but Neni says it holds for up to two weeks.

Note: The flavorings can be altered to taste. A 3-inch rosemary sprig is nice, too.

Last month it felt that rather than declining internally Ed and Elllie are declining by bits and pieces. They both had “procedures” recently, removing small growths from various parts of their bodies that could, if left untreated, become problems, but because of their age required pre-op examinations that took up an inordinate amount of time. When we went through his week of menus there were big gaps because Edward’s datebook was filled with appointments and doctor’s cards. He’s quite good at keeping track of things, but beyond that, I am impressed with how he is dealing with this new reality of frequent doctor’s visits. Instead of grumping about it, he has become fascinated with how far medicine has evolved since he was young and healthy. Not that he is looking for a miracle. At 89, he feels he’s already lived one to a certain extent. But he has found a way to look beyond his own health issues by admiring another’s skills. To me, that’s the definition of health.

As the weather cools off, Edward is turning more towards stewy recipes; gelatin rich foods that make his joints feel good. These dishes are, nonetheless, amazingly light, as evidenced by this lovely dinner salad. And thrifty, too. The stock leftover from boiling the beef is delicious, and makes a meal tomorrow.

Edward’s Boiled Beef Salad
Serves 2 as a dinner salad, makes 4 pints of stock

3 meaty 6-inch short ribs
1 small onion, halved
1 fib celery, halved
2 carrots, halved
2 bay leaves
10 or so sprigs each thyme and parsley
1 or 2 dried hot peppers
3 quarts water

Place all the ingredients in a stockpot, cover and bring to a boil over a night heat. Lower the heat to a simmer and cook for 2 to 4 hours (longer low heat makes a richer stock than shorter high heat). The stock should reduce to about 2 quarts. Strain the stock and retain the stock, beef, and carrots.

Defat the stock (I love my defatter). You can keep the stock for up to 3 days in the fridge. Or you can pressure can or freeze the stock. (It only takes 20 minutes to pressure can stock at sea level; if you freeze, leave 1 1/2 inches headroom in the container to accommodate volume expansion.)

To serve the stock Edward likes to boil angel hair nests in the stock and garnish with chopped parsley and Parmesan cheese, or he makes stracciatella (Italian egg drop soup) or he uses the stock as a base for a soup or stew.

Pull the beef off the bone and slice the carrots. To keep the beef and carrots for a day or two, place in a bowl and cover with enough stock to keep moist. Rewarm in the stock before making the salad.

To make the salad

6 small waxy potatoes, boiled and, if you like, peeled, and halved (see Variation)
1/3 cup washed and chopped fresh cilantro or flat-leafed parsley (or other tender herb, or a combination!)
Juice from ½ lemon
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Gently combine the beef and carrots (drained from the stock) with the potatoes, cilantro, lemon juice, and seasoning. The salad is delicious served at room temperature, garnished with a little extra virgin olive oil. It’s also very nice served with a bit of hot mustard on the side.

Variation: replace the potatoes with 2 large semi-ripe tomatoes, cut into bite sized wedges.

Neni’s mother used to sun dry her tomato paste on their roof in Athens. Back then, the humidity in Athens was 15.9%. (It’s 37% now, says Neni, because of the excessive use of air conditioning in the city.) Neni’s mother had an interesting technique. She poured a ¼ inch layer of salt in a large tray, covered the salt with cheese cloth, then put down a 1 ½ inch layer of tomato puree. She sprinkled salt on top, then covered the puree with tulle to keep the insects off. The puree spent 3 days on the roof, and it was Neni’s job as a little girl to cover the tray at night with a linen sheet. “When I would go to check on the paste I’d take little tastes. The first day I could run my finger through, and then shake the pan so the puree equalized, but by the second and third days the paste was too dry. It was obvious I was eating it.” Neni grinned. “And it got me spanked.” When I mentioned this technique (the drying not the spanking) to my dad, he said that his relatives in Le Marche made tomato paste in a similar way, except they spread the paste out on terracotta tiles to dry.

The ratio of tomatoes to tomato paste cooked in a low oven is pretty shocking, but here’s the benefit: The paste is so incredibly rich and dense that you only need a tablespoon to flavor a dish for four. And the particular taste of tomato paste really can’t be replaced with canned tomatoes, nor does commercial paste achieve that incredibly sweet, salty, tomatoey flavor. It’s worth doing if you are inundated with tomatoes, or if they are cheap at the farmer’s market, like now, when farmer’s are trying to move those seconds! There are a million uses for tomato paste, but I think the most surprising I’ve encountered is when Neni made me a tomato paste and feta cheese sandwich on her homemade bread. As is so often the case with simple things, it was the best.

Neni’s Greek Style Tomato Paste
Makes about 3 half pints

7 pounds plum tomatoes, or a combination of cultivars
2 tablespoons kosher salt

Preheat the oven to 300F.

Wash and chop the tomatoes, and pass the tomatoes through a food mill LINK, to separate the skins and seeds and produce a puree. If your food mill has two strainer discs, pass the tomatoes through the large-holed one first, then the small-holed disk. You will have about 3 pounds of puree.

Line a large sieve with a piece of cheesecloth and place over a bowl. Pour the puree in. You do this in order to drain as much water off the puree as possible (to speed up the cooking process). Let the puree drain for about 45 minutes. The tomatoey water is delicious and should be retained to drink or use as a poaching liquid. Depending on the juiciness of the tomatoes, the puree will reduce by almost a third.

In a large baking tray at least 1 inch deep sprinkle 1 tablespoon of the salt. Pour the puree into the tray, smoothing it with a spatula. Sprinkle the remaining tablespoon of salt over the puree.

Place in the oven and bake the puree for 3 hours. Turn off the oven and let the puree and oven cool down together.

The paste will be much reduced and a very dark red. Scrape it up and pack into sterilized jars (to sterilize, boil the jars and lids in water for 10 minutes at sea level, adding 1 minute for every 1000 feet of altitude). Cover the jars with a layer of olive oil and refrigerate. The past holds for a year if it stays covered in oil.

It always amazes me when Edward reveals he is hip to something that I had figured was totally out of his purview. I mean, he has no idea who Bradley Cooper is, but he likes Snoop Dog. Likewise, I was rather surprised when he suggested I add almond milk to Trapani sauce. But it makes sense: in Sicily, where the recipe originates, fresh almonds are used. We don’t get those here in New York, at least, not often. Edward says the difference between a fresh almond and the almonds I buy at Teitels on Arthur Avenue is the milk. “Fresh almonds are creamy,” said Edward over our Friday morning espresso. “So I just use a little of that almond milk they sell in the health food store to soften the nuts up.”

Really, it’s so intuitive, and well, kind of brilliant, as it takes advantage of a current food trend to sustain an old one. And this is the time of year to make it, when the tomatoes are ripening on the vine, and at their tastiest and cheapest.

Pasta with Pesto di Trapani
This is a very saucy, rich dish. So rich it does not need cheese.

Serves 4

4 large fresh ripe tomatoes, skinned and chopped (about 4 cups)
1/3 lb almonds, blanched, with skins removed (about 1 1/4 cups)
1/4 cup plain almond milk, homemade or store bought
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh basil, chopped (see Note)
2 garlic cloves, chopped (about 1 tablespoon)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
3/4 lb egg pasta, such as tagliolini or fettucini
4 tablespoons toasted breadcrumbs (optional)

Put the almonds and almond milk into a food processor and puree. It’s okay if the nuts are grainy, but there should be some thick puree, too. Put the tomatoes, oil, basil, garlic, salt and pepper into the food processor and puree.

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over a high heat and add the pasta and cook until al dente, about 12 minutes. Drain and toss the pasta with the sauce in a large serving bowl. Garnish with breadcrumbs, if you like.

Note: I don’t always add the basil to the food processor. Sometimes I use it as a garnish in place of, or with, the breadcrumbs.

When I saw Edward on Arthur Avenue last week he was regaling a few locals about how he figured out he had Lyme disease. He’s clearly feeling better since going on the antibiotic regimen.

“I would sit down after lunch and rest a little bit, then hardly be able to get out of my chair. Or I would feel exhausted walking up the hill to my studio. I figured, well, I ‘m finally getting old. Maybe this is what old age really feels like. But then I told my doctor and he gave me the test and it came out positive for Lyme.” I glanced at our friend Rosa and we exchanged significant looks. Lyme disease should never be taken lightly but certainly not in an octogenarian.

And then came the kicker. “I was delighted!’” said Edward. “I’m not feeling my age! It’s the Lyme! I was so happy about it I made pasta alla Norma” (one of Edward’s favorites).

I am happy, too.

Pasta alla Norma
Serves 4

The technique for preparing the eggplant comes from Neni Panourgia. When I tested this I made twice as much eggplant as I needed, and the next night made her beef with eggplant. Fabulous!

4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
Salt
2 tablespoons chopped garlic
Large pinch hot pepper flakes
2 small eggplant, a little over a pound
2 cups chopped tomatoes
¾ lb rigatoni
½ cup or more chopped ricotta salata
2 tablespoons chopped flat leafed parsley

Prepare the eggplant. Wash the eggplant and cut into slices about ½ inch thick (a tip: don’t remove the flower end of the eggplant, it’s delicious when cooked. Just trim its stem). Place the eggplant in a bowl filled with water and about 2 tablespoons of salt. Put a small plate over the eggplant so that it stays submerged in the water and let sit there for at least half an hour. Remove from the water, squeeze well to remove any moisture, or place on a kitchen towel to dry out some. Add ¼ cup of hot to a deep frying pan and heat over a high heat until bubbling hot. (Alternately you can drench the eggplant in oil and put it in a very hot oven to fry). Add the eggplant and let it fry until it’s nice and almost caramelized all over. Remove the eggplant from the oil and chop coarsely.

Heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil in a large saucepan over a medium heat. Add the garlic and hot pepper and cook for a minute or so, until you can smell the garlic, then add the tomatoes. Cover and cook over a medium low heat for about 10 minutes, until the tomatoes break up. Add the eggplant and cook a few minutes more to meld the flavors.

In the meantime, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over a high heat. Add the rigatoni and cook until al dente, then drain. Pour the pasta into the tomato sauce and toss well. Pour into a large serving dish and add the ricotta salata and combine. Check the seasoning. Garnish with the parsley.