Holidays: Let's Mostaccioli

It will keep you young

Sometimes, flavours, colors, or smells have the power to take us back in time. Around Christmas time, I’m reminded of one of those magical moments that inevitably visits me every year.

It happens every time I take a bite of those rhombus-shaped cookies called mostaccioli.

I’m transported back to when I was 6 or 7 years old, living in San Vittore del Lazio. I used to walk up to la piazza, then turn right onto Via Roma. Just a few hundred meters up was my Nonno Luigi’s cantina (tavern). The place was dimly lit, filled with the smell of wine and cigarettes, but what always caught my attention was the glass jar on the counter. It was packed with dark brown chocolate cookies—the mostaccioli—a specialty sold only in December.

The moment I stepped inside, Nonno Luigi would see me, greet me with a warm smile, and after a brief chat, he’d open the jar and reach for THE cookie.

I would run out of the cantina, biting into my mostacciolo. By the time I got home, it would be completely gone. The flavour was unforgettable—rich with cinnamon, orange and cocoa chocolate. Soft on the outside, but with just a hint of crunch as I bit into it. I was in heaven.

Every year around this time, I make a special trip to Alati Pastry on Dante street in Montreal’s Little Italy to get myself a mostacciolo. Now, just like back then, I’ll finish it before I reach home

Mostacciolo from Alati before my first bite

Some things keep us young.

For the recipe I invite you to look at Frank Fariello post at:

click here for recipe