The Mafia Cookbook

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The Mafia Cookbook Page 10

by Joseph Iannuzzi


  “Irv, I asked, are these guys members? I don’t remember seeing them here before.”

  “No, I would never allow trash to be members here,” Irv replied “Do me a favor and get rid of them for me, please? I’d rather not call the police.”

  When Irving made the statement “I’d rather not call the police,” a light bulb went on in my head. I thought myself: Could it be that Irving hired these two guys to come in here, thinking I would back off and he would get out his obligation with me? Well, if he did, he was going to be one sorry night club owner.

  I excused myself, went quickly to my car and put on my lead leather gloves with cut-off fingers, and put my snub .38 in my waistband under my jacket. I went back inside, walked up behind the guys, and slammed my hands over their backs, which I’m sure jarred them, and said, “Fellas, that’s no way to order a drink, now, is it!” I reached between them and grabbed the two bottles of beer off the counter before they knew what was happening.

  “Hey, you m____! What did you do that for? Who the f____ are you? Who do you think you’re f____ with?” the one on the left said, as the guy on the right took a half-ass swing at me.

  I stepped back, taking a glancing blow under my eye on the right cheekbone. I slammed the guy on my left in the face with one of the beer bottles, knocking him off the stool. And then I quickly turned to my right to position myself. Clenching my fist, I hit the other guy so hard in the jaw you could hear the crunch. He was out cold, but the guy I hit with the bottle was getting to his feet. I gave him a drop-kick to his dead, which made him plead for no more. I looked at Irving. He was staring with his mouth open, like he didn’t believe what had happened.

  “I think you should call the cops, Irv, so this crap won’t come in here again. Where the hell did they come from, anyway?” I asked, thinking that Irving was going to squirm out of this one. To my surprise, he went right over the phone and did what I suggested. I left just before the police arrived, as Irving knew I couldn’t get involved with the police.

  When Belinda came to the apartment that night, later than usual, she gave me the rundown on what had happened. I was wrong about Irving.

  “When the police arrived, Irving told them how the bad guys were conducting themselves and that they became very ungentle-man-like, so a man who was contemplating joining the club defended the bartender from injury. The cops asked what the gentleman’s name was. And Irv said all he knew him by was his first name, which was Frank, but if he decided to join the club he would give the police his full name. How’s your eye? Here, let me put an ice pack on it so it doesn’t swell up.” I smiled at her and gave her a big hug. Then I prepared a veal piccata dish.

  Veal Piccata

  1 pound veal, cut scallopini-style

  All-purpose flour for dredging

  11/2 tablespoons butter (per serving)

  1 ounce dry white (sherry) wine (per 4-ounce serving)

  11/2 ounces heavy cream (per serving)

  Salt and white pepper to taste

  1 teaspoon Accent

  Butter for thickening sauce

  Lemon juice (approximately 1 tablespoon per serving)

  Capers (5 to 6 per serving)

  With a mallet, pound veal slices very thin, or have butcher do it. Dredge veal in flour and shake off excess. In a sauté pan, melt half the butter. Place veal in melted butter and sauté for 1 to 2 minutes on each side. Remove veal from pan and set aside on a warm platter. Raise heat and add wine. It will ignite. Let flame burn out, then add cream, salt, pepper. Accent and remainder of butter. Stir and reduce by half. Put lemon juice in pan, add veal back to mixture, and let simmer for an additional 2 minutes, stirring again. Add capers and serve. To thicken sauce, add some more butter. Serve with linguine or asparagus with hollandaise sauce. Serves 4.

  Back in the courtroom I was being mocked by the defense attorneys about the black eye that I had. One of them said something like; “What happened to your eye, Mr. Iannuzzi? Did the Mafia beat you up over the weekend? Did you tell the FBI about it, and did they come to your aid?” he continued to mock.

  “Objection, Your Honor. The witness’s eye has nothing to do with this case. If it did, then I would have brought it up before the court.” That was the prosecutor, Roma Thius.

  “Sustained!” cried the court. “By the way, Mr. Iannuzzi, what did happen to your eye? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but it would relieve everyone’s mind in the courtroom along with mine if you did.”

  “It’s really not a big deal, Your Honor,” I said. “I was out with this hooker over the weekend, and when I went to approach her she slugged me in the eye and told me, ‘Uh-uh! Not on the first date.’ ”

  The jury got a good laugh from that, and even the judge smiled and asked defense counsel, “Well, are you satisfied with that answer? Continue with your cross.”

  The rest of the day was brutal. They reamed my ass good and hard, and it was a relief to go and cook for the three agents who were baby-sitting me.

  “Hey, R.B., did you get the stuff from the grocery store?” I asked.

  “Yeah, Dogs, I got it, and I got a can of Alpo for you to eat. You know, you really look like a dog—a really ugly one,” Agent Richard Bennet said.

  Shrimp Creole

  11/2 pounds medium shrimp (25 to 30 per pound)

  2 ounces vegetable oil

  1 heaping tablespoon butter or margarine

  5 or 6 tiny hot chili peppers, cut in half

  1 green bell pepper, seeded and diced

  1 red bell pepper, seeded and diced

  1 large Vidalia onion, diced

  1 pound mushrooms, cleaned and sliced

  3 or 4 stalks celery, diced

  2 or 3 cloves garlic, crushed and finely chopped

  2 tablespoons cornmeal

  1 141/2-ounce can cut tomatoes (Hunt’s brand preferred)

  Chicken stock (approximately 26 ounces)

  1/3 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

  Rinse, shell, and devein shrimp. Set aside. In a saucepan over medium heat, add oil and butter together and bring almost to bubbling. Add all ingredients from hot peppers through garlic and stir well, tossing the veggies. Add the cornmeal and mix everything together well. Cook until vegetables are translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the canned tomatoes, stir well, then add most of chicken stock. Let simmer for at least 30 more minutes, adding pepper and remainder of stock as, and if, needed. Just before sauce is finished cooking, add shrimp and cook for 4 or 5 minutes—no longer! Stir slowly but constantly. Serve over rice. Serves 4.

  Note: Do not cook shrimp more than 4 or 5 minutes! They will get stringy and tough.

  Belinda had taken the weekend off, so she and I had a couple of days together. I was gone from Fort Myers for two weeks this time. The agents couldn’t fly me back from Miami. The trial was winding down, and I had about one more week of cross-examination and that was it. Thank God! I was exhausted. While I spent some time with Belinda, I showed her how to make a couple of desserts that I had picked up in my travels.

  Semifreddo (Italian Ice)

  1/2 cup sweet white wine

  1/2 cup sugar

  1/2 cup water

  1/2 cup lemon juice, freshly squeezed

  1 large egg white room temperature

  Add wine, water, and sugar to saucepan and cook over medium heat until sugar is dissolved and syrup just starts to boil. Cover saucepan, raise heat to high, and boil 1 minute. Lower heat, remove cover, and simmer 10 minutes without stirring. Remove mixture from heat and refrigerate, uncovered, until completely cooled, approximately 30 minutes. Stir lemon juice into cooled syrup, pour mixture into pan, and freeze until firm throughout but not solid, approximately 1 hour.

  Beat egg white to soft peaks. Transfer lemon ice to chilled bowl and beat with a whisk until smooth. Add egg white and mix well. Return to pan, spread evenly, and freeze until very firm, at least 3 hours. Makes 4 4-ounce cups of ice.

  Sweet Peaches with Creamy Zabaglione Topped with Cr
ushed Amaretti Cookies

  8 medium peaches, peeled, halved, sliced 1/8-inch thick (reserve liquid from peaches)

  1/4 cup plus 3 tablespoons sugar, divided

  1/4 cup orange liqueur

  3 large egg yolks, room temperature

  1/3 cup Marsala wine

  1 cup heavy cream

  1 tablespoon confectioners’ sugar

  8 Amaretti cookies, crushed

  Place peach slices in large bowl. Add 1/4 cup sugar and orange liqueur to coat. Toss well. Refrigerate 2 to 5 hours. In another bowl, whisk egg yolks with 3 tablespoons sugar until pale yellow, approximately 2 minutes. Add Marsala wine. Set bowl over pot of simmering water. Whisk constantly until mixture is very pale yellow and has consistency of whipped cream, approximately 8 minutes. Do not let mixture boil. Set bowl in larger bowl filled with ice water to cool.

  In another bowl, whip cream and confectioners’ sugar to soft peaks. Fold half the cream into the pale yellow mixture to combine. Fold balance of whipped cream into mixture.

  Arrange peach slices, with their liquid, in a large bowl or individual stemmed glasses. Top with creamy zabaglione and sprinkle with crushed Amaretti cookies. Serves 6.

  I was sitting on the lounge chair in my living room at my apartment thinking about the past six treacherous, grueling weeks that had gone by. Yes, the trial was over. In fact, it was over for me five days ago. There were three convictions out of five. De Noie was dismissed before the ending. Principe was acquitted. The three convicted were waiting to be sentenced at a later date. It had been a long trial. The prosecutor was on direct for eighteen days, and the defense was on for eleven. My ass cheeks sprouted blisters from sitting on that hard chair. When I arrived back in Fort Myers, I didn’t let anyone know that I was back in town. I left my car at the airport and took a cab to the place I called home now. I unplugged my phone and just relaxed. I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone. Not even Belinda. If there was something I needed, I’d send for it by taxi.

  After I got the call about the convictions, the agents and the lead prosecutor called to say they wanted to come down and celebrate. “We’ll go over to that place—Night Life,” the prosecutor said. “I really like that place. Do you still go there once in a while, Joe?” It was a question that was saying he wanted information. He didn’t like me going there because it was a New York–style club.

  His question was a test. There’s no way I could go in there with that group of guys now. I mean, like, the FBI agents aren’t the smartest guys in the world, but they aren’t the dumbest either. That’s all they would have to see—the people there kissing my ring, so to speak. It would be very embarrassing for all of us. I wouldn’t put them in the position where they felt that I was being underhanded to them. I liked them, and in my corrupted mind I felt that I was doing no wrong. It had nothing to do with the case we went to court on. So why not!

  “Hell, no, Roma!” I said. “I haven’t been to that place in a long time. Their kitchen got closed for quite a while. They were closed because of rodent infestation.”

  “You’re kidding.” Roma laughed. “I’ll be damned. It looked like such a nice club, too. That’s a private club, isn’t it, Joe? I remember how well they treated you over there. That’s the place I told you not to frequent too often. Remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember. That’s the place, all right.” I had to make it sound more convincing, so I added, “It was in the newspaper here about what happened. One of the members took some guests there for dinner to celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and while they were eating, three or four rats fell on their table from the suspended ceiling and were running all around the table eating from the people’s plates. Yeah, it was really bad for them. The board of health closed them down. They just now reopened, but they lost a lot of their business. I know I wouldn’t even have a drink there, much less eat.”

  “I wouldn’t either. Oh, well, you can cook, then. Whaddaya say, Joe?” Roma asked.

  “Sure. Why not?”

  They came down the following week. Seven of them. So I prepared lasagna for them.

  Classic Meat Lasagna

  This dish tastes best if it’s prepared and cooked a day in advance, so all the flavors can blend really well and the mixture gets a richer taste.

  LASAGNA MIXTURE

  2 pounds ricotta cheese

  1 pound mozzarella cheese, divided into 2 parts (1/4 pound diced; 3/4 pound sliced)

  3 or 4 large eggs

  2 tablespoons finely chopped Italian (flat-leaf) parsley

  1/2 teaspoon salt

  1/4 teaspoon crushed black pepper

  2 quarts Italian Tomato Sauce (see recipe, page 166)

  1 package frozen flat lasagna noodles (4 inches by 6 inches) (purchase in Italian delicatessen)

  1 pound Meatballs, sliced (see following recipe)

  1 pound Italian sausage links, sliced

  1/2 pound freshly grated Parmesan cheese

  1/4 pound pepperoni, sliced

  In a large mixing bowl put ricotta cheese, diced mozzarella, (3 eggs, parsley, salt, and pepper, and combine thoroughly. If mixture is too thick, add other egg and blend well. Set aside. In a 13˝-by-9˝-by-3˝ pan, put layer of tomato sauce to cover bottom. Place layer of noodles on top of sauce to cover sauce completely. Spread a layer of ricotta (about 1/3-inch thick) over noodles. On top of ricotta, put layer of sliced meatballs and sausage. Then lay some mozzarella and Parmesan on the top of meat. Top that off with slices of pepperoni and healthy layer of tomato sauce. Then start layering again, in same order: tomato sauce, noodles, etc. Finally, top off the lasagna mixture with final layer of noodles.

  Bake, covered with foil, in a preheated 350°F oven for 1 hour. Remove from oven and let cool for at least 1 hour.

  Refrigerate overnight. The next day, bake, covered, at 350°F for 45 minutes, or until piping hot. Then remove foil and bake for an additional 15 to 20 minutes. Cut into desired-size squares, sprinkle with Parmesan cheese, and add a little more tomato sauce on top. Serves 8.

  MEATBALLS

  1/2 pound ground beef

  1/2 pound ground pork (bulk skinless sausage)

  1/3 cup ketchup

  1 large egg

  4 slices bread (soaked in water, then well squeezed)

  1/3 teaspoon salt

  1/4 teaspoon black pepper

  bread crumbs

  Preheat the oven to 325°F.

  In a large bowl put all the ingredients together, except bread crumbs, and mix thoroughly. To get the right consistency, add the amount of bread crumbs needed to roll into balls the size of a small lemon. Bake for 30 minutes or until tender (test by jabbing a sharp knife into the center of one meatball). Makes 12 to 16 small meatballs.

  Note: If you’re going to use the meatballs to make sauce, bake them first for 30 minutes. Then add them to the sauce and let simmer in the sauce for a couple of hours.

  Three months after my first trial, I was getting ready to go to my second. This time I was going against a crooked cop. He was the chief of police in Riviera Beach, Florida, and we had this guy good, because I got him on video camera, recorded telephone conversations, and Nagra body recorders.

  At trial, on direct examination by his lawyers, Darden acknowledged that he took money from me but he claimed he was making his own case. He said something like, “I was conducting an investigation of my own. I knew this here man, Mr. Iannuzzi—they call Joe Dogs—is crooked. Yes, sir, I didn’t know Mr. Ianuzzi was working with you all. I had my own case going, I swear it.” He also testified that he had put the money I had given him in his office filling cabinet. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope and said, “Here it is, right here.”

  The trial broke for a recess. Then, upon learning that the report with the serial numbers of the bills the FBI had given to me for the bribe had been misplaced, the brilliant prosecutor, Peter Outerbridge, had some bills photocopied and left the photocopy sitting out conspicuously on his table in the courtroom for D
arden to see during the break. Darden, who obviously saw the bills, must have assumed that the prosecution was about to compare serial numbers. When Darden’s lawyers resumed their direct examination after the recess, they asked him if the envelope contained the same bills that I had given him.

  He replied, “I can’t be sure. It got comingled with some other money.”

  He testified that he had taken the money home when he retired and kept it in the family Bible. Darden shifted nervously in his seat. Peter Outerbridge felt sorry for him as the jury was laughing at his reasoning for taking the bribe. After a withering cross-examination, Mr. Outerbridge would not embarrass the chief any longer. I believe the jury was out for two hours before they pronounced him guilty as charged on all counts. He was sentenced to six years. He wasn’t really a bad cop. He was the Mob’s cop.

  Back in Fort Myers I was making an Italian vegetable dish that Cherie requested.

  Sicilian Caponata

  3/4 cup olive oil (extra-virgin preferred)

  1/2 pound pearl onions, whole; or 2 medium onions, thinly sliced

  1 teaspoon salt, plus to taste

  2 red bell peppers, seeded, sliced, and diced

  4 cloves garlic, minced

  1 (16-ounce) can crushed tomatoes (Hunt’s brand preferred)

  Black pepper to taste

  1 teaspoon dried crushed thyme

  1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley

  1/2 cup dry white wine

  6 stalks celery with leaves, thinly sliced

  11/2 pounds eggplant, cubed

  1/2 cup red wine vinegar

  2 tablespoons sugar (or to taste)

  1/4 cup capers, rinsed and drained

  1 cup pimiento salad olives

  In a deep skillet, heat 1/4 cup olive oil, then add onions and a pinch salt. Cook over low heat until onions are translucent, about 5 minutes. Add peppers and another pinchsalt, cover, and cook until crisp-tender, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and cook until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Add tomatoes, 1 teaspoon salt, black pepper, thyme, parsley, and wine. Cover and simmer gently until onions and peppers are tender, about 15 minutes.

 

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