Easy-to-make Valentine's Day treats

Sometimes, it can be mutually beneficial to take advantage of friends who are easily impressed. My easy-to-make white chocolate covered pretzels are a snack that continually manage to astound people. I get to enjoy my new position as queen of creativity and craft while my friends get to enjoy free candy.

However, I may have allowed my ego to get the better of me. Although I usually resort to just using a microwave to melt the white chocolate (hence the easy factor), I decided to upgrade my white chocolate to double-boiler status. If you've never used a double-boiler before, then this will be as much of an adventure for you as it will be for me.

Ingredients:

• one bag of white chocolate morsels
• one bag classic-style pretzel rods
• one pot
• one mixing bowl that, when placed on top of pot, is large enough to create a seal with the rim of the pot, preferably glass or metal
• spatula
• wax paper
• one sheet pan
• sprinkles
• paper plate

Procedure:

Essentially, a double boiler is like a makeshift fondue pot. Heat water in the pot, but do not bring it to a boil. The goal of this double-boiler process is to have the steam of the water heat the bottom of your mixing bowl, which is why you want to choose a bowl that seals the steam in from the top. So, clearly, I missed the boat with this Pyrex idea.

After a few more failed attempts using a skillet, a sauce pan, and a plate (don't question my motives), I finally landed on this bright blue mixing bowl, which I hoped was microwave-safe. It perfectly sealed in the steam and was deep enough for dipping my pretzel sticks.

Sure enough, after only a few minutes, the morsels were melted into a thick cream. I tried to better distribute the heat by mixing the chocolate with the spatula before going in for the kill.

The bowl wasn't deep enough to accomplish my preferred coverage, so I used the spatula to smooth the chocolate down the pretzel.

After letting the excess drip back into the bowl, I embellished the sticks with some sprinkles, with a plate underneath me, before placing the final pretzel sticks on a sheet pan lined with wax paper.

And, the classy line:

Happy Valentine's Day! 

I Butteri: Pizza Griglia & Co.

Don't be misled by food fairy tales of overwhelming and life-changing dining experiences in Rome. Like all big cities, Rome, too, has its share of crap.

As I discovered the hard way, it may not be in your best interests to equate restaurant popularity with food quality. Italian schools must teach students that when you copy off others, you are only cheating yourself of a good meal. If only American schools had such applicable lessons and maybe I wouldn't have ended up at the Longhorn Steakhouse of Italy.

Let me be the first to admit that it's no one's fault but my own that I did not immediately question the legitimacy of a grill/pizzeria in Italy with only one pasta dish on the menu: the vegetarian option. I attribute this lapse in judgement to the language barrier.

The vegetarian I dined with clearly had an easy decision to make. Meanwhile, I worked my way through I Butteri's selection of meats, whose praises were being sung all over the front of the menu. From what I could deduce by eyeing other tables, the grilled meats seemed to be served on mini skillets. I was sold.

Asking servers for their menu favorites is completely against my beliefs. I don't approve of friends ever asking for such erroneous and irrelevant information. With that said, the menu had minimal explanation, so I resorted to asking our waiter of his thoughts. This served as his cue to point out the priciest dish on the menu, the lamb chops, which were evidently different than the lamb shank offered at half the price. Thank you for your thoughts Antonio, but I think I'll go with the shank.

As it had been nearly an entire two hours since we last ate (which I believe is considered fasting in Italian culture), we were starving, so we decided to try the "grilled cheese" starter.

Essentially, a mild cheese resembling mozzarella was melted in a miniature baking pan over the grill. When Antonio brought the glob to our table, we had no better idea than to just fork it, which proved to be a complex procedure as the pan was light enough to slide around the table with each stab of the fork but too hot to hold in place. The cheese tasted just as it sounds -- inherently delicious.

As we waited for the main courses to arrive, sizzling skillets with a variety of meats sent smoke signals throughout the restaurant, amping me up for the grill selection I was about to experience. I spotted our server stepping out of the kitchen, and my heart began to beat wildly until I realized that he bore gifts for another table: a dull white plate instead of my sizzling skillet.

He then passed by our table, placing the dull white plate at my seat.
   

Was Antonio mad at me? I had been shanked by the shank. I should have splurged for the lamb chop via skillet. Now, I was stuck with skewered fat trimmings, five potato wedges, and a bowl of lima beans floating in a questionable liquid. The lamb had adhered to the skewers as if by super glue. During the occasional instances when I succeeded in tearing off a Euro-sized piece, I discovered that I was eating fat marbled with meat. The most alarming feature of this dish, aside from the lima bean display, was that, given the dominance of fat on each skewer, the meat was surprisingly dry and flavorless.

If you have only four days in Rome, I suggest you spend your time elsewhere. And if you live in Rome, I suggest you do the same.


PIZZA GRIGLIA & Co. 

Piazza Regina Margherita 28/29 - 06.8548130

Della Palma: Gelato di Roma

Over 100 flavors of gelato are flaunted in a glass case covering over half the perimeter of a room that's about three times the size of an average gelateria -- Baskin Robbins, eat your heart out. 

I stood at the doorway, frozen from sensory overload, devising my plan of attack in this gelato/ candy store that bore a striking resemblance to a Disney World gift shop.

My strategizing failed to get me very far because, after I had finally decided on where to stand in line, it took me ten more minutes to realize that there was, in fact, no line. After a moment of internal panic (and another 10 minutes) I discovered the following: first pay at register, then collect sweet treat. Why is it always the case that it's in critical times such as this that we misunderstand the instructions.

By my calculations, I was now about 30 minutes into my first experience at Della Palma and yet still had no gelato.

Golden ticket in hand (my receipt), I had gained the confidence I needed to approach the hoard of sweet-tooth-driven tourists who crowded the opulent display case. The flavors ranged from the classic stracciatella to some more artfully crafted combinations like this wonderful gelato interpretation of chocolate covered strawberries.

If you remember nothing else about Della Palma, remember this: All's fair in love and war. Be aggressive or forever be senza gelato. You must be willing to force, jab, and kick your way into that mob at all costs. Keep in mind how it is easier to ask forgiveness than permission. Breaststroking your body to the front of the crowd with a simple "scusi" will do.

With the success of acquiring my long-awaited and well-deserved two scoops, I walked out onto the streets of Rome to chow down. I had a difficult time detecting the flavor through the thick cream of the frozen treat -- perhaps because one of the flavors was "crema." I chose "nutella" for my second scoop. Both were so overpoweringly rich in cream that I almost had trouble finishing off my cone.

If you're looking for options -- as well as a moment of heightened blood pressure -- then Della Palma is definitely your scene. Otherwise, I recommend wandering around the streets of this area a little more and finding one of the smaller mom-and-pop gelaterias. 

Because let's be honest -- when in Rome, who needs the stress?

Gelateria Della Palma, Rome

via della Maddalena, 20/23, Rome 00186  

Phone +39 066 880 6752

Hours: Mon. - Sat. 8am-1:30am