A few weeks ago, I spent the weekend helping my boyfriend move out of an apartment share into his own place. It was days after our skiing/snowboarding trip in Vermont and the last thing either one of us wanted to do was lift and carry boxes up and down stairs.
Compared to my skiing skills, my boyfriend is a seasoned snowboarder. But sadly, he spent most of his time climbing the mountain, (bunny slope), to my rescue. Stupidly, I always forced him to go first, which is like throwing a parachute out of a plane, and then jumping. Like a windblown leaf, swaying from left to right, gently grazing the snow, my boyfriend snowboarded each time with ease to the bottom of the mountain, where he would inevitably await his doom. His only choice was to watch and wait for my ski crash to come to an end and then use all the force he could muster to go back up the mountain to my rescue.
It was the same story every single time: I'd get pushed down by the ski lift and after a major struggle, I'd finally get back on my skis only to ski about two feet until I'd lose control and somersault down the hill while my skis escape my feet and flail into the trees. Then like a crab, my boyfriend would drag and dig his board into the hill as he made his way back up the mountain to help.
We burned hundreds of calories that weekend and nearly all our energy for days to come. So during the apartment move, we were on our emergency back-up power system. But with just a container of adult gummy vitamins and a bottle of the new white Mountain Dew in the kitchen, we would've surely short curcuited had it not been for his mom and the muffuletta.
Cradled in the palm of her hands, my boyfriend's mom carried her homemade muffuletta into the kitchen. Under a secure packaging of parchment paper and foil laid fresh French bread stuffed with an olive salad and layers of salami, ham, mortadella, mozzarella and provolone. The only moving that happened after that was our bodies digesting. The sharp saltiness of the kalamata olives against a humble, smooth layer of provolone cheese was just the right punch to give the salami, mortadella and ham. My boyfriend and I were healed of our vacation wounds and survived on the muffuletta for over a week. It was neverending magic that never got old, and I even got the recipe out of his mom. It was a 5-star Giada recipe:
Ingredients
* 1/4 cup red wine vinegar
* 2 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
* 1 teaspoon dried oregano
* 1/3 cup olive oil
* 10 large pitted green olives, chopped
* 1/3 cup pitted, chopped kalamata olives
* 1/4 cup chopped roasted red bell peppers
* Salt and freshly ground black pepper
* 1 (1-pound) round bread loaf (about 7 inches in diameter and 3 inches high)
* 4 ounces thinly sliced ham
* 4 ounces thinly sliced mortadella
* 4 ounces thinly sliced salami
* 4 ounces sliced provolone
* 1/2 red onion, thinly sliced
* 1 1/2 ounces arugula leaves
Directions
Whisk the first 3 ingredients in a large bowl to blend. Gradually blend in the oil. Stir in the olives and roasted peppers. Season the vinaigrette, to taste, with salt and pepper.
Cut the top 1-inch of the bread loaf. Set the top aside. Hollow out the bottom and top halves of the bread. Spread some of the olive and roasted pepper mix over the bread bottom and cut side of the bread top. Layer the meats and cheeses in the bread bottom. Top with the onions, then the arugula. Spread the remaining olive and roasted pepper mix on top of the sandwich and carefully cover with the bread top. You can serve the sandwich immediately or you can wrap the entire sandwich tightly in plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator a day before serving.
Cut the sandwich into wedges and serve.
Enjoy and eat your pain away!
