Monday, November 14, 2011

Salt Flats in Sicily - Trapani and Mozia



If you ever get the chance to go to the west coast of Sicily do it, the beauty and the light there is indescribable And as long as you’re there, go visit the salt flats south of Trapani at sunset.

Granted, salt is one of my favorite subjects. An ingredient which is so essential to our survival and to the culinary arts and to our tasting and enjoying the simplest of foods, whose history is so old and tied to struggle, war and wealth, it’s incredible to contemplate.

These salt flats are ancient, having been started before Roman times by the Phoenicians, at least. The salt is concentrated and evaporated by the sun, then scooped up and washed with brine, then milled to the desired coarseness by windmills right out of Don Quixote.

Mountains of salt are piled up into perfect long mounds and covered with terra cotta tiles to protect it from the wind and rain. The reflection of the light off the water, the glare of the white salt, the clarity of the sky, all mix to give one an idea of paradise.




San Marzano Tomatoes & Sabato Abagnale














Sabato Abagnale is a passionate man. Like so many people I know here in Italy who are passionate about the food and artisan products they make, he is open, full of information and bubbling over with enthusiasm for the products of his region, especially the San Marzano and Piennello tomatoes.

I spend a few days with Sabatino and his family every August during tomato canning time and every year I come away with a tranquil sense that if these people and this food exists, all is right with the world.

He sells his tomatoes under two name brands, “Il Miracolo di San Gennaro” and “Terra, Sapore e Fantasia”; the first you can get through Gustiamo at gustiamo.com, the second is sold at Eataly stores, not only in New York City, but also throughout Italy. (Yes, Eataly existed in Italy before the Batali partnership brought it to NY. It’s owned by Oscar Farenetti.)

The tomato harvest and canning is an intensive process and takes place during 3-4 weeks in August. At Sabatino’s it’s all done by hand with industrial equipment, on a small scale in what is basically his backyard, with friends, family and neighbors gathering to help get the work done.

Please follow this link to read the original blog:
http://www.eccolacucina.com/2011/09/04/san-marzano-tomatoes-and-sabatinos-miracolo/

Ancient Phoenicians in Sicily

When I was in western Sicily last week, I was surprised to learn of all the layers of ancient civilizations that left their mark on the land. The strongest footprint of pre-Roman peoples were the Phoenicians.

Now, I don’t know where I thought the ancient Phoenicians were from, but Western Sicily and Tunisia? I did not know that. Beginning around 700 BC, their little empire covered much of northern Africa and part of Sicily for several hundred years, with the capitol city being Carthage on the coast of Tunisia. They fought constantly with the Greeks of Siracusa, were allied with the Persians, and it all came to an end around 270 BC when they finally fell to the Romans.

The Phoenicians, or Carthinagens as they’re also known, are the ones who started the salt flats on the western edge of Sicily, between Trapani and Marsala, and they’re the ones who founded the town of Marsala itself, after having been run off an island called Mozia by those dang Siracusans. They sacked the Greeks and rebuilt their temples on the southern coast in Selinunte.

I sort of felt sorry for the Phoenicians after my tour. They kind of got kicked around the Mediterannean and kept hanging on to come back and defend their territory another day. Until the Romans finished them off and sacked Carthage, on the tip of Tunisians. The Romans were apparently so fed up with them that they sowed the ground of Carthage with salt so that nothing would grow, finishing off the Phoenicians once and for all.

All that remains are the beautiful ruins and temples. And of course their salt flats.




All that remains are the beautiful ruins and temples. And of course their salt flats.









Sunday, October 23, 2011

Tortellini and a history lesson

I spent some time with my good friend, pig farmer and professional olive oil taster, Daniele Barufaldi, and, as Italians are wont to do, in the course of the day we started talking about food, our favorite dishes and how to make them. Daniele is originally from Emilia Romagna, the region north of Tuscany, and while he has lived near Siena for over 20 years with his Venetian wife and sons, he still maintains a freezer full of homecooked specialities, lovingly made by his mother.



As he says it, he's from Emilia.

United as one region today, Emilia and Romagna were separate regions until the 1860’s when the unification of the country of Italy took place. But the people still think of themselves as either “Emiliano” or “Romagnolo”. Divisions run deep in Italy and people relate more to their hometowns and families, and less to the regions they live in. What is oftentimes so difficult to understand about regional Italian cooking is, it isn’t regional. It’s local. It’s so local that neighboring towns will go to war about the right way, the only real way, to make a particular dish. Any dish. I have learned about Italian cooking from both working with the old ladies in the kitchen as well as listening to the old men at the table, who don’t actually do the work but are there to critique it. Or should I say I have gleaned what I can about Italian cooking from talking with the people.


So it should have come as no surprise when Daniele started arguing with me about the correct way to make tortellini. Tortellini in brodo is the pride of the Emilia Romagna table and one of my favorite dishes. The broth is satiny and complex tasting, yet simplicity at its most earnest. The pasta is rich and silky, stuffed with meat and redolent of nutmeg and pepper. Cooked in the broth and served with a dusting of parmigiano reggiano on top, it is heaven on a spoon.

Now, I’ve made tortellini many times. Learned to make them in Bologna years ago and the recipe I use is from a friend’s mother who was born and raised outside Bologna. Yet when I tell Daniele that I cook the pork and veal before pureeing it with mortadella, prosciutto, parmigiano and nutmeg, he raises such a fuss you would have thought someone peed in the ragu.

“NO!” he yells, “the pork and veal must be raw in the stuffing!”

“OH, Calmati!” I yell back at him. That’s the only way to hold your own in a food discussion with an Italian: you have to yell back. And there’s no better way to get a discussion going than to yell at the other person to Calm Down. “That’s how I was taught by two old women from Bologna who have made more tortellini in their lives that you have!” I rush to the defense of my education and honored teachers.

“Well, obviously your teachers were Romagnolan”, he concedes, “that’s how they make it in Romagna. In Emilia - where they REALLY know how to cook - the stuffing is raw before making the tortellini.”

I did not know that.

Then he puts the loaded question to me, with the raise of an eyebrow: “And how big do you make them??”

“Very small”, I answer. "A square inch of pasta wrapped around a tiny amount of meat stuffing and formed around your littlest finger.”

“No!”, he yells. “There can be no less than five (5) tortellini on a soup spoon!”

“Oh”, I say, really getting into the argument, “and how big is this spoon? Soup spoons come in all different sizes!”

“No! All soup spoons are the same size!”

Really??? I go to his cupboard, pull out the drawer and fish out three different sized soup spoons. “There”, I say, laughing. “You didn’t think that in Italy tortellini would be all different sizes but all the spoons would be the same!?”

We ended by agreeing that very soon we have to share a plate of tortellini in brodo. I hope he pulls out his stash of his mom’s tortellini. And if I can’t get five on my spoon, there’ll be hell to pay!


Tortellini in Brodo

This recipe, given to me by Grazia's mother, cooks the meat with celery and onion before pureeing it with the other ingredients. If you use raw meat, as they apparently do in Emilia, leave out the celery and onion.

½ onion, chopped

1/2 stalk celery, chopped

½ lb veal in chunks

¼ lb pork in chunks

1 tbsp vegetable oil

1 cup white wine

1 slice mortadella

2 slices prosciutto di parma

½ cup grated parmigiano

¼ teas nutmeg, freshly grated

1 bay leaf

Salt, pepper

Saute the onion, celery, veal and pork in the oil until cooked through, add the bay leaf and white wine and cook off completely. Let cool. Place the mix in a food processor with the mortadella, prosciutto, nutmeg and parmigiano and puree completely. If mixture is too dry to mix, add a small amount of milk. Salt to taste.

Brodo

½ chicken

2 large beef short ribs

2 carrots, cleaned and cut into large pieces

2 celery stalks, cut into large pieces

1 onion, cut in quarters

1 whole tomato

3 parsley sprigs

10 whole black peppers

2 bay leaves

2 whole cloves

Cover all vegetables with fresh water and bring to a boil, add the chicken and beef and simmer for two to three hours, covered. If any foam rises to the top, skim off and continue cooking. After an hour you can add a tbsp of sea salt to taste.


Sunday, October 9, 2011

Wild Fennel Pollen


Autumn is finally here and it gets cool as soon as the sun goes down, but the days are still bright blue and sunny. This summer and fall we haven't had rain at all and that means no excursions into the woods to hunt mushrooms. But there's always something to harvest in Tuscany and right now the countryside is loaded with bright yellow wild fennel flowers turning to seed. I know that if I wait a month there will be a great crop of wild fennel seed, but as soon as it gets cool I start thinking about roasted pork and pancetta, how great they would be dusted with fresh fennel pollen and I can't wait.

For the rest of the article, go here : http://www.eccolacucina.com/?p=1084

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Culatello di Zibello

If you like prosciutto, you gotta try culatello. Formally known as Culatello di Zibello, it is a luscious cured meat that’s literally the culo (that’s Italian slang for butt) of the pig. Whereas when making prosciutto, the entire leg of the pig is salted and dried in cool air at a high altitude, in making culatello only the largest, choicest muscle of the leg is used, turning a simple ham into a sublime experience.

For the rest of the article, go here: http://www.eccolacucina.com/?p=1121