Mangia! Mangia!
ANTOINETTE JACKSON Seanna's first recorded recipe

It started in the spring of 1975.

Bob and I were newly married living in the City Apartments in Orange, Calif.

My brother John's little girl Seanna was now seven and mature enough to spend the good part of a day with me all by herself.

I hoped visits like this between my niece and me would build the kind of relationship my Uncle Gene's wife and I had.

From the time I was very small, I always addressed her not as "Aunt Evelyn" but just "Auntie."

Since there was just one special aunt whom I called "Auntie," no other name was necessary.

One day, without prompting, Seanna made me feel warm inside when she began addressing me as just "Auntie."

I was looking forward to our day together but I was also apprehensive. At 36 years of age and hadn't been around children since my brother and I were the children in the family. How would I entertain a 7-year-old?

The Crystal Cathedral and The City Mall were both within walking distance of our apartment. While my niece was grown up and brilliant, I didn't think she would enjoy visiting the well-known church. That left just one other option.

Seanna, age 7, helping Auntie Cook

Hand in hand, we walked through the open-air shopping center. We looked in a few stores and then, like two girlfriends, had a light brunch in the The May Company tea room. Seanna behaved like a perfect little lady.

As we walked back to the apartment, I asked my niece if there was anything special she wanted to do now. Just as expected, she replied, "I don't know."

Since it was up to me to fill the rest of the afternoon with something productive, I suggested we do what all good Italian women do.

I asked, "How would you like to help me cook?"

My sister-in-law Kathy preferred to work in the kitchen all by herself so Seanna was not exactly her mother's little helper.

I was expecting a less than enthusiastic reply when, surprisingly, she answered, "That sounds like fun, Auntie."

Once home, I got out my "Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook" to find a recipe.

As I pulled out the ingredients, I told Seanna chocolate chip cookies were my first attempt at baking when I was about her age. I proudly presented a warm cookie to my mother and father.

When they bit into it, instead of tasting sweet, it tasted horribly salty. Apparently, I had measured out a half cup of salt instead of sugar.

Tying an apron around her waist, I told her since then, baking was not my favorite form of cooking.

As we measured, I promised we would both be careful to use the right ingredients and in the correct amount.

I picked her up and sat her on the end of my kitchen counter. Then I gave her the bowl of cookie dough to stir.

She looked so cute that I got my camera and to capture the moment on film.

While the cookies were baking, I suggested we prepare the fresh beets from my father's garden for dinner.

Concerned she would cut or burn herself, I said, "Why don't you write down the ingredients in this notebook while I do the all the steps?"

And so it was Page 1 of Seanna's cookbook was written.

From then on, whenever I prepared a family recipe, I jotted down a few notes in her book.

While we were off to a good start, in the summer moved into our own home.

In the fall my husband started a new business and soon I joined him at work.

Both projects took my time away from Seanna.

And, in what seemed like a blink of the eye, one day we were packing up to move our business to Texas.

Seanna's notebook went with me and I added a few Texas specialties to the collection.

When my mother passed away, I dedicated myself to writing some family history along with recipes I was saving.

After two years and 50 meticulously written pages, something more urgent sidetracked my project.

Fortunately, Seanna maintained her interest in cooking throughout the years. In May of 2003, she e-mailed asking for my mother's Eggplant Parmesan.

I answered glibly, including some background with the recipe. Seanna sent back the following e-mail to me.

"Hi Auntie, I have a recipe for you. It's pancetta and angel hair. It is so good. You get a pound of pancetta and have the butcher cut it in half inch thick slices cause you're going to cube it into chunks.

"Turn the oven on to 350 degrees. Cube up your pancetta. Drizzle olive oil in the bottom of a round baking pan.

"Not a ton, just enough to cover the bottom. Then put the pancetta in the pan and swoosh around to cover with oil. I forgot to tell you to cut the big pieces of fat off but don't throw them away. Put them in the pan too.

"Then bake for about half an hour. Make your pasta.

"Then when the pancetta is cooked, drain the pasta and add the pancetta to it with all the juices.

"Take the big pieces of fat out that you cut off. Put in a ton of Parmesan and parsley and yummy, yummy. Everybody here loves it. You can add garlic if you want. I don't because it gives me heartburn. Love, Seanna."

"Where do you expect me to find Italian-style bacon in East Texas?" I emailed back.

From that discussion, the Mangia, Mangia column was born.

This week I saw pancetta in my local grocery store. When I returned home, I went where her e-mail is filed to look up the Angel Hair recipe.

I guess that means that the teacher has now become the student and we have gone full circle.
Beets a la Seanna
3 cups water
6 beets
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon pepper
3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 / 4 cup extra virgin olive oil

Bring the water to a boil. Meanwhile, remove greens from beets; they can be discarded or cooked at another time. Add beets to the water and boil until done, about 30 minutes.

Drain and rinse in cold water. Using your fingers, peel away and discard the outside skin.

Slice the beets and put them in a bowl. Whisk together the remaining ingredients. Add to beets, cover and refrigerate. Allow it to marinate for at least an hour before serving.

Seasonal option: Slice one small Noonday onion in with the beets before refrigerating.

Makes 4 servings.

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Antoinette Jackson is a Bullard-area resident. You may reach her at Antojxn@aol.com.