Region: Veneto

Menu: Thin Spaghetti with Tomato-Clam Sauce and Fresh Basil, Cornish Hens with Herbs and Pancetta, Marinated and Sauteed Radicchio, “Zabaglione” with Fresh Berries

Recommended Wine: San Leonardo (a Bordeaux-like red from Trentino)

            Venetian cuisine is most famous for seafood and rice, but they are not its sole components. Pasta, though not as popular as rice and polenta, is common, served with all manner of fish and shellfish, or sometimes beans for a vegetarian dish. Meat and vegetable specialties include liver and onions, smothered cabbage, and radicchio. Combined with things like creamed, whipped salt cod and cuttlefish stew, these elements of Venetian cuisine are far from the tomato-heavy dishes popular further south.

            Exactly why tomato sauces are so much more popular in the South than in the North when tomatoes can be grown throughout Italy is not entirely clear, but I have a theory. In another cookbook, I found a map showing where each starch (bread, rice, polenta, and fresh and dried pasta) is most common. Overlaid on the map were lines showing where sauces are mostly tomato-based, which bore a striking resemblance to a map of Spanish possessions in Italy in the 16^th and 17^th Centuries. In other words, Sicily, Sardinia, and the southern half of the mainland were under Spanish control during the two centuries of the Columbian Exchange. Since it was Spanish explorers who first brought these new foods to Europe, it would make sense that these foods would have arrived sooner and spread faster in regions they controlled. While this theory doesn’t explain everything (especially why corn caught on sooner and more thoroughly in the North, which was not under Spanish control), it could have been a contributing factor.

            Regardless, tomato sauces are not unheard of in the North. This menu features an interesting one, made with cherry tomatoes and enriched with clams. Clam sauces are not usually my favorite, and after my experience with the deviled eggs I considered omitting them. Ultimately, I’m glad I didn’t. The tomato really cut the “fishiness,” while the clams and a sprinkle of parmesan cheese added substance. I was surprised by how much I enjoyed it. Similar success came with the Cornish hens (an option to use instead of quail), though I omitted the truffle oil. It’s pretty hard to go wrong with chicken, herbs, and bacon.

            The radicchio was not as successful. Though it is one of the most popular vegetables in Venice and other parts of Northeast Italy, I found it way too bitter. The balsamic vinegar, shallots, and lemon zest in the sauce helped some, and a small bite of radicchio with each bite of chicken provided a nice contrast, but the bitter taste was still hard to get used to. It must be an acquired taste.

            Dessert was slightly modified from the text. It still consisted of fresh berries with a custard sauce, just a different type of custard sauce. The recipe calls for zabaglione, which, as mentioned in previous posts, is a custard made with wine instead of milk. For some reason, the mix of egg yolks and wine thickens more as it’s heated than a milk-based custard does. This particular zabaglione recipe also includes grappa, a type of brandy made from grape seeds and skins, pressed to extract any remaining juice. It was invented in the region and is often used to preserve fresh berries. (Text, pg. 124) Thus, berries with a grappa-infused custard are a natural choice for dessert.

            However, as also mentioned in previous posts, I don’t personally care for zabaglione. As replacing the wine with milk produces a very thin custard that doesn’t thicken adequately without curdling the eggs, a replacement was necessary. I chose homemade vanilla pudding as the closest alternative. While not quite the same, it’s a good match with the berries, and a fine ending to a Venetian-style dinner.