Sunday, February 7, 2010

Polenta

Polenta is one of those ageless culinary lords, like bread. It has sprung from the hunger of mankind, and without apparent effort has always carried with it a feeling of strength and dignity and well-being.
~M.F.K. Fisher, "How to Cook a Wolf"



Polenta is an ancient Mediterranean dish. The Greeks, Romans and others who lived in Italy in ancient times made puls by cooking farro, millet and other grains or chestnut flour in water or milk, then added legumes, vegetables, eggs and cheese for a complete and nutritious meal. The dish changed after Columbus returned to Europe with corn from the Americas in the 16th century. Corn cultivation expanded to Italy in the 17th century and was rapidly adopted, especially in the Northern regions. Polenta made with corn became a staple of the lower classes, in part because the "new" grain was cheaper than wheat used for bread, but also because of the sense of satiety it provided.

A peasant tradition established the custom of eating polenta on the spianatoia, a large wooden board placed on the common table with all the family gathered around. The polenta was spread in a large circle on the spianatoia, with a single sausage placed in the center–usually the only protein and rich meat available that day. Starting from the outer part, each seated guest proceeded inward consuming the section of polenta in front and tunneling their way to the middle of the table towards the sausage. The race was who could get to the sausage first, wiping the table clean.

That sense of family aggregation has endured. In the 21st century, my mother considers polenta the best food to keep her warm on a cold and rainy winter day. We live in Rome and the climate is mostly mild. She has, however often taken advantage of a providential summer thunderstorm to suggest making polenta. Peering at the light drizzle from the window I have often heard her announce: “Evviva! Perfect day for polenta.” She stirs hers in the mandatory copper cauldron called paiolo, serves it in wooden tray-like dishes that are supposed to keep it warm longer, and seasons each portion with a ladleful of sugo con le salsicce e spuntature (tomato and meat sauce with sausages, see recipe below), and finally sprinkles grated Parmigiano over all.

As we sit there, scoffing in silence, we all secretly pronounce our mental thank you at the sky for the unexpected downpour.

1 liter (4 cups) water
200 gr (1 cup) cornmeal
Salt

Bring the salted water to a boil. While constantly stirring with a whisk, slowly add the polenta (cornmeal) trying to avoid forming lumps. Switch to a wooden spoon and reduce the heat to a gentle simmer, and brace yourself: you will be stirring constantly for the next 45 minutes to an hour. Or more. A tall drink might help. And/or nibbling on a chunk of Parmigiano. You must engage in all this stirring in order for the polenta to cook evenly and not burn and stick to the bottom of the pot.

Observe the rhythmic build-up of steam that results in small volcanic explosions. Pl-l-lop! Pl-ll-op! Lovely sound. The polenta is ready when smooth, and no longer granular. When it has finally reached the consistency of oatmeal and slides off the sides of the pot, you can rest your arm for a few minutes. But please don’t let the polenta cool down, you must ladle it steaming hot onto plates (wooden would be best, mamma says) directly from the cooking pot.




As a child I relished the polenta leftovers. Polenta solidifies fast and can be sliced. So now, to bring back gluttonous childhood memories, I usually put thick slices of polenta on the grill and dress each with thin slices of Sardinian Pecorino, smoked mozzarella or caciotta (a mild Italian cow’s milk cheese). After removing the collection of lids that are permanently housed in my oven, which always come crushing down noisily when I open the oven door, I bake the polenta until heated through and the cheese sloppily melted. 
Another great polenta leftover is crunchy fried polenta sticks, pure solace.


Tip: If you store leftover polenta in a cubic container, it is then easier to cut regularly shaped slices.

* * *


Salsicce e Spuntature
Mamma’s tomato, short ribs and sausage rustic sauce is the preeminent polenta partner. A meal intended for hearty appetites and brave digestive systems, a true winter staple.


Assemble the following ingredients while someone takes a shift at stirring the polenta:

2 celery ribs, minced
3 carrots, minced
1 1/2 medium onions, minced
4 fresh bay leaves
250 gr (1 1/4 cups) ground veal
250 gr (1 1/4 cups) pork short ribs
2 cups canned tomatoes, with their juice
1 cup dry, white wine
250 gr (1 1/4 cups) beef stewing meat, cut into 1” chunks
250 gr (1 1/4 cups) pork, cut into 1” chunks
250 gr (1 1/4 cups) sweet Italian sausage
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt and ground black pepper, to taste
Parmigiano, grated

Heat approximately 1/4 cup of olive oil in a large stewpot. Add the celery, carrot, onion battuto and the bay leaves, and sauté over medium-high heat for 5 minutes. Reduce heat to medium low, add the ground veal and short ribs, and simmer with the vegetables for 10 minutes. Add tomatoes and their juice, and cook uncovered for 15 minutes.
Add the wine, the chunked beef and pork and the sausage, and cook uncovered for 30 more minutes, stirring frequently. Adjust seasoning with salt and ground black pepper. Serve immediately over soft polenta, with lots of grated Parmigiano on top. Place one symbolic sausage in the middle of your serving plank and eat your way to happiness.







Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Baldino (aka Castagnaccio)

Castagnaccio is a typical Apennine region non-sweet dessert made with chestnut flour and love. During a particularly difficult shoot in Garfagnana where long working days were spent immersed up to the waist in a tumultuous river, the thought of returning to the hotel and munching on foot-long slabs of castagnaccio in front of the fireplace, made conquering the Serchio river bank effortless.


Image © Fraenzi

  • 500 gr (2  1/2 cups) sweet chestnut flour (the cheaper kind is lumpy and bland)
  • 750 ml (3  3/4 cups) water
  • A pinch of salt
  • 6 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
  • A pinch of fresh Rosemary needles
  • 100 gr (1/2 cup) Pine nuts
  • 50 gr (1/4 cup) Raisins
Preheat oven at 180° C (350° F).
Soak the raisins in a glass of lukewarm water and set aside. Pour the olive oil in the water and set aside. Sift the chestnut flour in a large mixing bowl and add the salt. Slowly drizzle the water and oil “emulsion” over the flour and keep mixing with a wire whisk to avoid lumps. The blend will turn out quite liquid, but do not worry.

Pour the mixture in a well-oiled cake pan. Don’t mind the uneven composition swimming in the pan, the recipe requires it to be that way, trust me.
Sprinkle with pine nuts, raisins and rosemary needles. Drizzle with one more thread of oil and bake in the oven for about 30-40 minutes. I like my castagnaccio soft with a lightly crisp crust. Mind you, the pie doesn’t rise, so the thickness shouldn’t be more than a 1/2-inch.

Tip: Don’t sink your teeth in your castagnaccio before it has cooled down completely. The oil will comfortably be absorbed during cooling and you won’t scorch your mouth.

And one more thing: castagnaccio loves Chianti.




Wednesday, January 27, 2010

2009 recipes

Here you will find a comprehensive list of all of my recipes posted in 2009. If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to leave them in the comment box below, or to contact me.


Hors d'Oeuvres | Antipasti
All the recipes in this list are for those small savory dishes served as an appetizer at the beginning of an Italian meal, designed to stimulate your appetite.




Pasta | Rice | Soup Starters
An Italian meal cannot be considered such without a starchy opener, be it pasta, risotto or a heart-warming soup.

Farfalle with Radicchio


Meat | Fish | Poultry Entrées
The main course in the Italian menu is called Secondo–'second'–and it follows the Antipasto and the starchy Primo.



Complete Meal Dishes | Piatti unici
A complete meal dish, or piatto unico, is a stand-alone preparation that can suffice in place of both first and second courses, like polenta for example.


Side Dishes | Contorni
Contorni are those supporting vegetables, salads or legumes that are usually served at the same time as the main protein course.



Sauces


Breads




Desserts


Beverages | Cocktails | Liqueurs
Limoncello














What are your favorite family recipes?



Sunday, January 24, 2010

1 little candle on the cake

It has been mostly a learning experience. It all started with a timid post one cold winter night, a year ago today. And from that day, every day, I realize how much I have learned in 365 days of blogging. With some help from my blogger friends I familiarized a little with a new foreign language called Html, I became competent in uploading photos, adding watermarks; I taught myself discipline and blog-etiquette, and at times when I'd be at my laptop for 6 hours straight, I understood what it's like to fight an addiction... But mostly, I learned that I love to share. I learned that if I write with my heart, if I post what I am passionate about, it all comes right back at you tenfold.

One reader, then three, then snowball effect. This blog is now counting more than 250 followers and over 30,000 page visits. I am overwhelmed by its success. And I am touched by your dedication. Yes, yours. This blog would not exist were it not for you reading this right now, your precious comments, your feedback, the empathy, the emails, your thoughtfulness, all the amazing gifts, your notes to my recipes, your love. So thank you for visiting and making this blog what it has become in only one year. Thank you for helping me celebrate this wonderful milestone.

____

Since many of my posts were intended to titillate your taste buds, and lure you into replicating the described dishes at home, I thought you might enjoy a review of my favorite recipes I blogged this year. I'm still working on getting the full list together, so in the meantime I'll keep you busy with some images of the past...






I am grateful for the many true friends I have made through this little food blog and I look forward with excitement to continuing the conversation the coming year.
Here's to a bellissimo 2010 of blogging around the table!



Eleonora (Lola)




P.S. I'm serving Champagne, shall I pour you a glass?






Friday, January 22, 2010

La Pizza Part 3 | The gold of Naples


Image © Bella Napoli

Welcome back to part 3 of La Pizza series.
So far we've eaten our way through



Image © Unidentified source


Today we will be closing this segment with a virtual tour of the birthplace of pizza, a brief stroll down the dimly lit alleyways of Napoli, for one last slice of authentic pizza and a nosedive in la vita napoletana.



Image © Da Michele website


The best pizza in the world | Da Michele
There’s a pizzeria half-hidden away in Napoli’s dark alleys of the seedy central train station area, that serves perhaps the best pizza in the world. Da Michele is a small joint, and always a crowded one. Not even paper tablecloths  on the small marble tabletops, and the glasses are all different, some are worn out around the rim from having been washed so many times. Two pizzas on the verbal menu only, marinara and margherita, three sizes each: small, regular and monster. Beverages available are mineral water, Italian beer, sodas. The prices are ridiculously low, and the line outside is unbelievable. The first time I went there, introduced by locals who acted like they were initiating me to a secret society meeting–complete with code handshake and solemn nods–it was a rainy autumn night. After a 20-minute wait outside standing under flimsy umbrellas, we were finally assigned a table by the oven, and while our order of pizzas was in the oven, I got to watch the pizzaiolo’s skills up close. When the food arrived, we clinked beer mugs to friendship and attacked our monsters.
As I moaned with pleasure, biting into my steaming slice of exquisite margherita, I saw what looked like disappointment on the faces of the napoletani sitting around me. They shook their heads and tsk tsk tsk-ed noisily. Our waiter hovered over our small table, apologetic. I didn’t know what the heck was going on, moderately devoid of all that was happening, I ate away, estatic at a pizza the likes I had never had before. What got my attention finally was that none of my friends were eating! Was I not in on something? Apparently the rainy night’s damp air had done something dreadful to the dough, tainting it, in their expert opinion. I found it divine, and no matter how much they insisted on the opposite, I ended up eating their leftovers and ordering one more. Next time you’re ever in Napoli, be sure to make a stop at Michele. Even if it rains. | Da Michele - Via Sersale 13 - Tel. +39 081 5539204



Image © Hot News


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PIZZE A CREDITO | Napoli street food
Sophia Loren is singing. A wry smile on her face as she fries her pizzas on a makeshift steaming pan in the street. Customers stop by for a hot and fragrant pizzella fritta more to peer at her voluptuous cleavage rather than for the leavened dough she is frying. Her chubby husband is fanning the flames under the oil and mouth agape, stares transfixed not at Sophia’s ample décolletage, but her hand. “Where’s the ring?” Sophia’s expression betrays she knows. “It must have slipped in someone’s pizza,” is her prompt reply.





The adventures of retrieving the engagement stone narrated in Vittorio De Sica's masterpiece  film "L’Oro di Napoli," in the Pizza a Credito episode starring Loren, narrates the impetuous chase in and around the narrow alleys and homes of Napoli’s Quartiere Sanità, only to end with Sophia’s lover returning the ring she had not mislaid in the pizza dough, but in his bed in the opening sequence.

The title of the episode owes its meaning to the old Napoli tradition of buying street food–and these fried delicacies in particular–on credit. The sign behind the characters says, "Eat today, pay in 8 days."

Another similar Napoli custom is that of the "caffè sospeso." When a Napoletano is in the mood, instead of only paying for one espresso at the bar, that person pays for two: their own and one for the next client in need. So later, anyone not able to afford un caffè can simply walk up to the counter and ask the barista "any caffè sospesi?" The fortunate beneficiary of caffè sospeso will never know who to thank. A superb act of faith and compassion. Offering a 'hanging coffee' is like saying "it's on me" to the rest of the humanity. Caffè sospeso is an exclusive Neaplitan custom, and reflects in some ways the city's philosophy of life.




_____


At the end of Part 1 I had promised to share another pizza recipe. Did you think I had forgotten? A promise is a promise. Here it is, your own Sophia-style pizzelle!



Image © Marcolivio.com

A little pre-planning is necessary. First of all, prepare your steadfast basic pizza dough. If you double the quantities and freeze part of it you can thaw it later and make homemade pizza with different toppings listed in part 2. (That is of course bearing in mind that in this case, you should own a professional wood-fired brick oven. I know, I tend to repeat myself, but I can never stress the oven thing enough). For pizzelle fritte, fortunately, all you need is a frying pan.


Mini-pizzelle I made for my son's birthday last year | Image © Aglio, Olio & Peperoncino

For the sauce
While you wait for the dough to rise, prepare a basic tomato sauce with:

5-6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 garlic cloves, minced
500 gr (1.1 lb) tomatoes, peeled, seeded and puréed in a blender; or a 14-oz can of crushed tomatoes
1 spicy peperoncino (optional)
Salt

Again, quantities are abundant, but it's good to have sauce handy for any recipe.
In a saucepan over medium heat, pour the olive oil and add the garlic. Before it begins coloring, add the tomatoes, salt, and pepper. Cook over medium heat for about 15-20 minutes, until the tomato sauce firms up, stirring frequently.
Leave the pan uncovered to allow the sauce to thicken. To prevent it from spattering, cover the pan with a mesh top or place a wooden spoon across the edge, so that the lid is partially open and the steam can escape.

You will eventually have to heat oil for frying in a large skillet, so take that timing into consideration as well.

When the dough is double its original size, punch it down to eliminate air bubbles.
Divide it into small orbs, each about 5 cm (2”) wide. Flatten each piece to make round disks about 12 cm (4-5”) in diameter.

Bring your oil to frying temperature, and fry your pizzelle 3 or 4 at a time until they are fluffy and light golden. They will balloon irregularly, don't worry, that's what's supposed to happen.
Place them on paper towels on a large plate and let the oil drain briefly. The pizzelle should not be crisp, rather soft and chewy, with a full crumb and large air pockets.

Slather each with an abundant spoonful of tomato sauce, top with a fresh basil leaf and 1 heaped tablespoon of grated Parmigiano. This particular type of pizza must absolutely be eaten piping hot. Tongue-burning hot.




Image © Portanapoli




This concludes our journey in the vast world of Pizza as I know and love it.
I hope you took as much pleasure in reading this series as I did in writing it.
Arrivederci from the warm and sunny rolling hills of Italy...




...I'm off to the frozen expanses of northern Sweden* until February on a very cold and interesting assignment.  


Farväl!

*latitude 63.1°N | longitude 14.3°E