THURSDAY THE LONG WAY: FERRARA'S

Thursday highlights food from out of the way places, food memories that have formed the way I view food, both cooking it and eating it. These memories may be inspired by recent meals, the food-media, or anything at all.

If you live in New York you know Little Italy. You know that Chinatown has taken over and perhaps you've even answered the siren's call late at night on New York sports radio station, WFAN, "You know where you gotta go...Umberrrrrrrrto's Clam House," and headed over for linguini with clam sauce at 1 a.m. (they're open until 3 a.m.).

No? No bottle of red? No bottle of white? What are you un-American? Alright, so you're not into $23 spaghetti, I hear that (if you make it a kitsch night it can be a fun date), but there's a local Little Italy standard that I remember as another New York City ritual, a part of my childhood that's still a lot of fun, especially on a summer night, "Holy Cannoli!" That's right, Ferrara's (pix c/o ferraracafe.com).

In the "heart of Little Italy," (there I go with the Umberto's references, fess up, you were 23 once and took a date there I know you did) Ferrara's, a pastry shop or pasticerria begun in 1892, still draws a line. As a kid my first order of business was to walk along the glass display case, an ambulation with one purpose, discovering which sweet dessert treats had to be eaten right away and which ones could be tasted later (I usually solve this problem now by buying something to go).

My mother's favorite dessert at Ferrara's is the baba al rum, a yeast risen cake soaked in rum, mmm, and I'm pretty sure my pop opted for a pistachio gelato and my sister stayed close to the tiramisu, but my childhood favorite was always the cannoli. There's an art to the cannoli too. They have to be filled all the way through. I don't care about moderation when it comes to that sweet ricotta filling--there's just no rational, human reason for that last middle two or three parts to be the crumbs of the ricotta shell all by itself, it needs to be stuffed all the way through! I'm a purist, no fan of the chocolate dip and really, there's no need for the chocolate chips or even the powdered sugar (so overused). A cannoli and a capuccino and you're ready to go.

Cannoli, gelato, Italian cheesecake and the classic, Tiramisu, now I'll do them all. As a kid, waiting at the square table with the wobbly leg, looking at shiny brass, smelling the sweet pastries, anticipating the cannoli, the coffee gelato, a glass of milk or water and knowing there might be a box of cookies to go home, I couldn't have been happier. Strike that, the only thing better was falling asleep in the back seat of the car with all those sweets in my stomach.

Now look, if you haven't been, this isn't going to be painless, especially if you're going on a summer night. There will likely be a line, you'll have been sweating outside and you'll be with a bunch of people who also want to sit down (been there done that, own the t-shirt, no, really). Look at it this way, you can leave someone on line and look over all the treats in the display case. Figure out what it is you need to take home. For me it was always the moist, chewy, amaretto cookies with the pignoli nuts, they're just really tough to turn down-- any time I bring them to a dinner party they disappear (and if they don't they come back home with me).

A cool thing about Ferrara's is that they post some of their recipes. Remember what I said about the cannoli if you get adventurous in the home kitchen. And just for the record, "Holy Cannoli," that's right, I owned the T-Shirt before Vince Vaughn (pix, c/o vince-vaughn.com) ever wore it in Mr. & Mrs. Smith (stop your comments, it was on incessantlly on cable), tell me YOU didn't sit through the whole thing...