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Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 82 (Pgs. 256 – 262): Al Fresco Meal for the Feast of the Assumption, Sicily

Region: South Mainland/Islands (Sicily)

Menu: Caponata, Roasted Red, Orange and Yellow Peppers, Rotelle Pasta Salad with Cucumber Sauce, Sicilian Stuffed Beef Roll, Chicken with Blood Orange and Caper-Anchovy Sauces, Sicilian Cream Cake

Recommended Wine: Vino di Tavola di Sicilia or Corvo Rosso for red, Greco di Tufo Vignadangelo (from near Naples) for white

            We remain in Sicily to celebrate the Feast of the Assumption, which falls on August 15 each year. At that time of year, the weather is hot and fresh produce abounds, making a produce-heavy picnic, able to be made ahead and eaten at room temperature, a natural choice for the occasion. To celebrate Sicilian-style, we have a feast full of the region’s famous dishes and flavors: caponata, blood oranges, capers, anchovies, and a cake filled with ricotta, chocolate, and candied fruit. It was a substantial undertaking, but more than worth it for the amazing taste of history.

            Caponata, a sweet-and-sour eggplant dish with celery and onions, demonstrates Sicilian cuisine’s history perfectly. The agrodolce, or sweet-and-sour, flavor has a long history. In ancient times it usually came from vinegar and either honey or grape must, which is boiled-down grape juice. The taste for sweet-and-sour continued into the Middle Ages, when citrus fruits and sugar were introduced and verjuice (the sour juice pressed from unripe grapes) became common. As mentioned previously, eggplant was introduced during this period as well. Another sweet and sour ingredient, tomatoes, were introduced a few centuries later, after Columbus, finally making the version here possible. With a homemade tomato sauce to coat the vegetables, the caponata required several steps, but it could all be done ahead of time.

            The flavor was good, but the quantity of vinegar added gave it a really sour edge. Maybe I’m just not used to it, but I found it difficult to eat much of it at once. The recommended pieces of toast were really a necessity to balance things out. I used a crusty bakery wheat/multigrain bread, which has more flavor than white Italian bread and can stand up to the vinegary caponata. A bit of cheese, though not called for in the recipe, further balances the punch.

            Like the caponata, the roasted peppers could be done beforehand and left to marinate in vinegar, oil, salt and pepper. If you have the book, you might notice that the actual recipe has the roasted bell pepper halves stuffed with tuna mousse. While the ingredients (tuna, butter, and a little cognac) sound reasonable enough, I had no desire to try it. After the eggs with tuna mayonnaise, I’ve learned my lesson. To avoid omitting a dish, I roasted the peppers just like the recipe called for and marinated them unstuffed. And they were great. Since they all got eaten the first night, I would call that a success.

            Another success was the pasta salad. While I don’t mind it, pasta salad is not normally one of my favorites, but this was wonderful. Most of the ingredients are pretty typical: pasta, onions, diced bell pepper, vinegar, oil, and herbs. The lack of bottled salad dressing helps, and lots of fresh basil really brightens things up. What makes this recipe unique is the sugar and pureed cucumber in the dressing. The little bit of sweetness doesn’t give a real strong sweet and sour flavor, but balances things out nicely, and the cucumber adds even more freshness. We all loved it. And it was so pretty.

            The beef roll, a substantial piece of meat stuffed with more meat, sausage, eggs, cheese, herbs, and a bit of nutmeg, almost certainly has an aristocratic background, though the ingredients are affordable to more people today. This was a bit more technically challenging. After flattening a lean piece of beef, the ground meat mixture is spread over it, followed by sprinklings of cheese and herbs. From what I can tell, the next step is supposed to be to roll it up into a spiral. That didn’t exactly happen. I must not have flattened it enough, since I could only just manage to form a circle around the filling, though the effect was still quite impressive, if I do say so myself. Then I narrowly dodged a catastrophic mishap.

            At the time, we were dog sitting for my uncle’s then 9-month-old yellow lab puppy. In other words, constantly looking for food, and big enough to put her head on the edge of the table. I was working on the beef roll while the dog was outside and put the platter on the table, since the stove and counter were pretty cluttered. Then the dog was let in. I decided to keep working while having half an eye on her, but when I turned around for a second, she took the chance to jump up and get her mouth right by the roll, ready to take a bite. After that near miss, I made room on the stove. Then the browning and braising went without issue.

            For some reason, the meat was still a little tough. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the roll was too tall for the pan cover to fit on completely. Regardless, it had a good flavor and excellent filling. Unlike the other dishes, which contained lots of basil and/or oregano, this one was flavored with parsley and mint (and probably a bit of canine saliva) and lacked the sweet-sour flavor of the other dishes. After lots of vinegar in the caponata and more in the peppers and pasta salad, this was a nice change of pace. As for the texture, slowly reheating the leftovers in a saucepan with the braising liquid tenderized the meat significantly.

            For the next dish, we are back to tart, acidic flavors and I did something that I’ve done a few times in this project: replace seafood with chicken. There are a few reasons for doing this. First, it’s a lot cheaper. The recipe here calls for swordfish, which is traditional to Sicily but quite pricey. While the two don’t taste the same, the neutral flavor of chicken goes with pretty much anything. And there weren’t pieces of swordfish conveniently in the freezer, ready to cook.

            Just as the recipe called for, I cooked the chicken with lemon juice, salt, pepper, and herbs. It was served with two sauces: a homemade mayonnaise, tinted with blood orange juice, and a thin vinegar-based anchovy-caper sauce. The chicken was good, but to be honest, neither sauce was my favorite. The homemade mayonnaise was better than store-bought (in the sense that it didn’t gross me out), but still wasn’t to my personal taste, and the blood orange flavor was barely detectable. I would have preferred the juice directly squeezed onto the chicken, where its flavor would be more pronounced. The caper-anchovy sauce was a bit better, but the salty, vinegary, briny flavor was pretty strong, except in very small amounts.

            My favorite part of the feast, as is often the case, was dessert, though the pasta salad and beef roll weren’t far behind. Sicilian cassata is traditionally made by lining a bowl with sponge cake pieces, adding a sweet ricotta filling full of candied fruit and chopped chocolate, covering the filling with more cake pieces, then weighting it all in the refrigerator overnight. The next day, it is typically covered with a green pistachio marzipan. This particular recipe skipped the marzipan icing in favor of a simple sprinkle of powdered sugar. It was definitely a bit fiddly to put together, but the end result was beautiful and delicious.

            On its own, the sponge cake can be a bit dry, so it really benefits from being pressed overnight with the filling. Scented with vanilla and orange and loaded with candied fruit, it is a little on the sweet side, but making the chocolate bittersweet and adding some extra pistachios balanced it out. This was definitely another of my favorite desserts from the book, though unlike the apricots from the previous post, it is too complicated to make on a regular basis. But that’s fine, since it was never designed to be an everyday cake. The whole menu is designed for a celebration.

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Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 81 (Pgs. 253 – 255): Trattoria Menu, Taormina

Region: South Mainland/Islands (Sicily)

Menu: Eggs with Tuna Mayonnaise, Greek-Style Lamb and Vegetables, Apricots with Amaretti Crumbs and Cream

Recommended Wine: Primitivo di Manduria (red from Southern Italy)

            Finally, we venture to Sicily, home of some of the most well-known Italian food. There are two sides to traditional Sicilian cuisine. One is the rich, elaborate fare traditionally reserved for the small elite, featuring pies, meats, molded dishes and pastries. The other is the ingenious peasant fare, designed to make the most of humble ingredients. Bread, pasta, vegetables, and legumes, accented with things like vinegar, olives, capers, anchovies and citrus fruits, helped compensate for the low levels of animal protein. Despite the island being a sought-after (and fought-over) breadbasket, featuring some of the most dazzling royal and noble courts from ancient times onward, the peasantry has frequently been among the poorest in Europe.

            This may seem like a paradox at first glance, but this pattern is common throughout history. Highly productive agricultural regions, like Naples, Sicily, and the Ile-de-France region around Paris have had some of the wealthiest and most sophisticated elites of their time, but not usually the most prosperous peasants. Higher yields meant higher taxes and greater social inequality. In some cases, commoners had lower standards of living than those in more marginal areas. Throughout its history, Sicily has been one of those cases.

            The history of Sicily could fill several scholarly volumes, but here’s a brief summary. As a large, fertile, centrally located island, it was unsurprisingly fought over by every power that passed through the area. From antiquity there were native Italic peoples plus all the usual suspects: Greeks, Phoenicians, Carthaginians, and Romans. The island played a crucial role in turning the tide of the Peloponnesian War, which lasted from 431 – 404 BC, pitting Athens and its not-always-willing allies against Sparta and other states that felt threatened by Athenian expansion over the course of the 5th Century BC. Until Athens overreached with the Sicilian Expedition from 415 – 413 BC, it had generally held the upper hand. After an attempted conquest of Syracuse went disastrously wrong (I’ll go into details in a later post, since it’s a fascinating story), Athens was predominantly on the defensive and was ultimately defeated.

            A battleground for centuries between Greeks and Phoenicians, Sicily was conquered by the Romans during the First Punic War between 264 and 241 BC. It was an important and wealthy Roman province until the 5th Century AD, when it was captured by Vandals, a Germanic people who had found a new home in North Africa. The Byzantine Empire (the surviving eastern half of the Roman Empire after the western half fell) under Emperor Justinian I recaptured the island in the 6th Century, only to lose it again in the 9th and 10th, this time to the Arabs. A spectacular flowering of arts, culture, and scholarship occurred during the century and a half or so of Arab rule. It was also during this time that citrus fruits, for which the land is so famous today, were introduced, alongside rice, sugar, spinach, and eggplants. Pasta also appears to have been introduced during this period. Then came the Normans, who conquered much of Southern Italy and the Middle East as well as England. In 1282, a revolt called the Sicilian Vespers allowed the Kingdom of Aragon to capture the island and hold it into the 18th Century.

            It was during the late 15th and early 16th Centuries, when Aragon was united with Castile, that New World crops and animals began crossing the Atlantic. While Castile sponsored expeditions to the Americas, Aragon was drawn into the Italian Wars, starting when Charles VIII of France invaded Naples in 1494. Columbus and his men brought plant and animal specimens back to the court of the famed Ferdinand and Isabella, from where they were presumably transported to Naples and Sicily over the next few decades. While not all of the new arrivals were quickly embraced (turkeys were within a decade, tomatoes and potatoes took a few centuries), by the end of the 18th Century, maize, tomatoes, peppers, zucchini, and chocolate had transformed Sicilian cuisine.

            Turning from history to food, we start with the only dish from this project that I truly hated: eggs with tuna mayonnaise. It may not sound too bad if you like hard-boiled eggs, which I do not. Their taste is objectively fine, but the smell is too much for me to get over. The kitchen and fridge ended up reeking of sulfur, and the sauce didn’t improve things. It starts with mayonnaise, another food I don’t like, though the homemade kind used here is better than store-bought. After using egg yolks to emulsify vinegar and lemon juice with oil, canned tuna and capers are blended in. The end result is an unappealing light tan sludge, full of classic Sicilian flavors. If you’re wondering why I made this, given my distaste for hard-boiled eggs and mayonnaise, there are two reasons. First, it’s part of the menu, which for this project I try to follow as closely as possible. Second, these are supposedly a classic Italian appetizer, so I thought they were worth a try. As it turned out, they weren’t. My fellow diner thought they were pretty good and really liked the sauce, but I could only manage a little nibble. While foods that stick around tend to do so because some people like them, nothing suits everyone’s personal taste. Lesson learned, never again. From here, things could only improve.

            And they did improve. The main course was a lamb “stew,” cooked in foil packets. The meat and vegetables were flavored with salt, pepper, oregano, and a bit of garlic. I personally thought it could use a little more seasoning, but that’s just a matter of personal preference. Maybe mincing the garlic, rather than just halving it, would help the flavors meld a bit more. Still, the meat was nice and tender and the vegetables were neither under nor overcooked. This dish would be worth making again, experimenting with a few minor modifications.

            Finally, there was a spectacular dessert, which is actually why I decided to make the menu in the first place. It features poached apricots, which get their name from the Latin word praecox, meaning early, since they ripen before most other fruits. The fresh variety, which Mr. Famularo recommends, is not always available where I live, so when I saw them in the store, I decided I had to try them. In the original recipe, they are poached in a mixture of wine and hazelnut liqueur and more liqueur is added to flavor the whipped cream. As I didn’t want to buy an entire bottle of either, I substituted grape juice and hazelnut syrup, reducing the sugar to compensate. The result was fantastic. The balance between the sweet-tart apricots, syrupy sauce, cream and amaretti crumbs was just perfect, and the hazelnut flavor infused throughout made the dish. I’m sure that other fruits would work in this dessert, possibly with adjusted poaching time. It is too good to restrict to apricot season.

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Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 85 (Pgs. 265 – 266): Pork, Cabbage and Bean Casserole

Region: South Mainland/Islands (Sardinia)

            Finally, we travel to the last region in the book, the southernmost part of the mainland, Sicily, and Sardinia. Like Sicily, Sardinia has been invaded and conquered over and over for the last few thousand years. The earliest inhabitants built huge stone structures called nuraghe that still dot the landscape today. For centuries it was a battleground between Etruscans, Greeks, and Phoenicians/Carthaginians, all vying for locations to set up strategic trading ports. Romans later joined in the fray, followed by Vandals, Byzantines, Arabs, Pisans, and Genoese. From the 15th to 18th Century the island was controlled by the Kingdom of Aragon and its successor, unified Spain. The Spanish were followed by the Kingdom of Sardinia-Piedmont, which eventually unified Italy. All of these peoples left their mark on the culture and food, creating a unique region “not a bit like the rest of Italy.” (Text, pg. 241)

            Interestingly, despite their strategic location, the native Sardinians were not major seafarers. While there has always been trading and fishing along the coast, the hills and mountains have historically been at least as important. Pastoralists raised sheep, goats and pigs, fattening the latter on acorns. Perhaps more carnivorous than neighboring cuisines, traditional Sardinian fare includes roasted meat, cured pork, and sheep and goats’ milk cheeses alongside the usual bread, pasta and vegetables.

            To that end, we have a Sardinian one-pot stew/casserole, with pork, fava beans, cabbage and fennel. Traditionally pigs’ feet were used, but this recipe uses Italian sausage and spareribs. The meat flavors the bean and vegetable “fillers,” with extra flavor coming from a sprinkle of Pecorino Romano cheese. Presumably this is to be served with bread.

            I ran into two problems with the recipe. First, the pot was not big enough. Once the meat, beans, tomatoes and liquid were in, there was not enough room for the cabbage and fennel. I had to add it a bit at a time, waiting for previous additions to cook down a bit before adding more. The other issue was with the texture of the cabbage and beans. Soaked fava beans and cabbage are supposed to be added at the same time. As a result, the cabbage was really overcooked by the time any of the beans were cooked. Further complicating things, the beans weren’t all done at the same time. For some reason, there were fully-cooked, soft beans right next to distinctly crunchy ones.

            Still, as long as the diner picks around any undercooked beans, the dish is generally enjoyable. I would make a few changes, however. First, the broth would benefit from a bit of garlic, since it was somewhat bland. And as mentioned before, the cabbage doesn’t need anywhere near as long of a cooking time. Personally, I would only add it about half an hour before the casserole is finished. Finally, I would substitute great northern beans or something similar for the favas, as they are a lot more consistent and easier to find.

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Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 52 (Pgs. 168 – 169): Cannelloni from Peppino’s in Piacenza

Region: Emilia-Romagna

            Returning again to Emilia-Romagna, we have a wonderful stuffed, baked pasta dish called cannelloni. Like many other stuffed pastas, which are typically made with fresh egg dough, it was historically a luxury or an occasional treat. Possible fillings include various cheeses, meats, and spinach. Here we have a spinach, ricotta and mascarpone filling, bound with eggs and flavored with parmesan, parsley and nutmeg, all encased in a rather interesting “pasta.” Rather than ready to stuff tubes or rolled out dough, a thin batter is cooked in a skillet, becoming a crepe-like circle that is then stuffed.

            Spinach and nutmeg, so common is pasta dishes today, were not present in Ancient Roman times. Spinach was introduced to Europe by the Arabs during the Medieval period. Nutmeg arrived around the same time or slightly later, either through trade or via the Crusader States in the Eastern Mediterranean. For centuries it was one of the most sought-after spices in the Western World. The search for it helped encourage the voyages of exploration from the 15th Century onward. In the 16th Century, it and other spices were so profitable that Portugal, which had a monopoly on the trade, was one of the richest countries in Europe, despite its relatively small population and peripheral location. In the 17th Century the Dutch fought a series of bloody wars to seize the monopoly for themselves, only to lose it in the 18th when British and French agents managed to smuggle seedlings of various types off the “Spice Islands” and transplant them elsewhere.

            It might seem strange to include nutmeg in a non-sweet dish, but it is fairly common in white sauces and cheese dishes, and for good reason. The aromatic, slightly bitter flavor complements and cuts through the richness really well. That is especially necessary when the pasta “crepes” contain butter, are stuffed with a three-cheese mixture, and baked with more butter and cheese. Naturally, they are delicious, although quite rich. While not exactly a diet food, they made a great occasional treat.

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Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 6 (Pgs. 31 – 36): Easter Dinner in Rome

Menu: Asparagus Soup with Amaretti and Crisped Leeks, Lasagna Squares with Braised Broccoli Rabe, Butterflied Roasted Leg of Lamb, Slow-Cooked Plum Tomatoes, Spring Greens with Mint, Ricotta Cheesecake

Recommended Wine: Dry Castelli White (like Frascati), Campanian Taurasi (ruby-red with plum, berry, spice and vanilla flavors)

            Of all the menus I have tackled, this is perhaps the most ambitious yet. Previous posts cover a combination of ordinary and Sunday dishes. This is a holiday feast. We are invited to imagine Easter in Rome, with bright decorations and flowers everywhere. In Rome, spring lamb is the typical Easter roast, heavily seasoned with rosemary. The menu also includes other spring classics like asparagus and fresh greens, along with a unique lasagna dish, slow-roasted tomatoes with garlic and herbs, and a ricotta cheesecake with a few different flavoring options. If you prefer, artichokes, another Roman favorite, can replace the soup or salad.

            As a whole, this menu is a taste of Roman food history. As mentioned in a previous post a while back, the Ancient Romans were fond of their produce. Among other vegetables, they loved asparagus, leeks, and lettuce. Asparagus and early lettuce are typically some of the first vegetables available in the spring, which is also the time for lambs and suckling pigs. Historically, milk and egg production dropped during the winter months before rising again, which is probably how eggs came to be associated with Easter. Even in ancient times, before Christianity, Romans could enjoy lamb with fresh herbs, asparagus, salad, and ricotta cheesecake in the spring.

            There is some debate on whether or not the ancients had a form of pasta, but if they did, its widespread use was a Medieval innovation. Trade with various Muslim states, especially in Sicily, brought rosemary, increased almond cultivation, lemons, bitter oranges, and sugar to Italy. Medieval Europeans loved almonds and used them extensively, especially during Lent, when almond milk frequently replaced dairy. As sugar became more widespread (though still a huge luxury) during the Late Middle Ages, it was incorporated into the variety of cookies and confections being developed.

            The Columbian Exchange changed everything. Maize, chocolate, vanilla, turkeys, potatoes, tomatoes, peppers and zucchini all arrived from the Americas, though not all were accepted right away. Peppers and tomatoes in particular took a long time to become widespread, but by the late 19th century, they were ubiquitous in Southern Italian cuisine, along with zucchini. Meanwhile, dramatically increased sugar supplies made the proliferation of new pastries and confections possible. These soon became linked to another new introduction, coffee, from the Middle East and East Africa.

            What is essentially a cream of asparagus soup, flavored with leeks and thickened with potatoes, is served with two interesting garnishes. First is crushed amaretti; crunchy almond cookies with a slightly meringue-like texture. The other is sliced leeks, fried until lightly browned and crispy. This combination might sound strange, but the sweet, crunchy cookie crumbs are a nice contrast to the soup and the crisped leeks were quite addictive. The flavor was a balance of asparagus and leeks, with neither overpowering the other, accented by a bit of almond. The only thing I would change is to maybe use a bit less liquid, as the soup was fairly thin, but that’s a matter of personal preference.

            For the pasta course, we have an interesting spin on lasagna. Rather than layered and baked in a single pan, fresh pasta squares and broccoli rabe (here replaced with mustard greens) are cooked separately, then layered with ricotta on each individual plate. While this method did free up oven space for the other dishes, it involved more work at mealtime. Only a few of the pasta squares can cook at a time, and they cook in about a minute. Once finished, each batch is placed in a bowl with a bit of butter to stay hot and hopefully avoid sticking. This was still a bit of an issue, and the ricotta, which was not heated, cooled down the finished dish. It was still pretty good, but more warm/lukewarm than hot.

            The lamb was the most technically challenging dish on the menu. Originally, I planned to get a few lamb chops and marinate them rather than use a leg of lamb, but since the latter was on sale for a really good price I decided to try it. (I’m a few months behind on posting, this was around Easter). The recipe says to ask the butcher to butterfly and trim it, but since I bought it frozen and shrink-wrapped that wasn’t an option. After letting it thaw for a few days, I would have to try and hope for the best. To be honest, I think I did a pretty good job, at least as far as getting it to lay flatter in the roasting pan, which was the point. After marinating overnight in a mix of vinegar, oil, garlic and herbs, it was broiled and occasionally basted with the marinade. The seasonings gave the meat a great flavor, and the sweet, acidic tomatoes worked really well alongside the rich, distinctive flavor of the lamb.

            The salad, a mix of spring greens and arugula with a bit of mint, had a vinegar and oil dressing with a bit of garlic and anchovy. Since the amount of anchovy was small, it did not taste fishy, rather, it just added another layer of flavor. I wouldn’t have thought of putting mint in a salad, but it worked really well with the other flavors.

            I did have a few difficulties with the cheesecake. The recipe instructs the cook to line the bottom of a springform pan with a piece of buttered parchment paper and serve the cheesecake while still slightly warm. A few different flavoring options are available; chopped candied peel, vanilla bean, or fruit-flavored brandy. I chose candied lemon peel, which seemed perfect for spring. For some reason, after the designated amount of time, it was nowhere near done. Even after some extra time at a low temperature to try and firm it up, there was still a lot of liquid in the center, but at that point we decided that maybe that’s the way it’s supposed to be and had some anyway. It was still pretty good, but the middle part was still pretty soupy and the lemon flavor seemed somewhat weak.

            A night in the refrigerator transformed the cheesecake. Chilling firmed it up and made it easier to slice, while the extra time gave the homemade candied lemon peel a chance to infuse its flavor. Though not a requirement, I would recommend making this a day beforehand and serving it cold. If making this again, I would probably reduce the sugar slightly and add a tablespoon of flour to help bind it together. Still, the whole menu was a thoroughly enjoyable taste of spring.

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Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 27 (Pgs. 91 – 92): Piedmontese Pork and Beans

            It seems like every cuisine that includes pork has some form of pork and beans, often using cured meat. Think of ham and bean soup, baked beans flavored with bacon, and the like. The pork and fat add flavor to the relatively neutral beans, which in turn stretch the meat while providing protein of their own. The particular type of pork, type of beans, flavorings and thickness all vary, but the basic idea is the same. In this dish, native to the mountainous Piedmont region of Northern Italy, we have pork shoulder and fat, great northern beans, root vegetables and herbs, seasoned with a basic salt and pepper.

            The text notes that this fairly rich dish is traditionally associated with Carnival. Until the 1960s, Catholic fasting rules dictated abstaining from meat for the entirely of Lent, not just the Fridays. Thus, you have traditions like Carnival and Mardi Gras, the last chance to eat meat and rich foods before Lent. In the past, when meat was more expensive relative to income, many people couldn’t afford to celebrate with a roast or other similar centerpiece, but a rich bean dish with substantial quantities of pork and fat was a viable option.

            Ideally, this recipe would use a Dutch oven or stove-safe casserole dish. Since I did not have either of these, I browned the meat and combined the ingredients in a pot on the stove, then transferred the contents to a ceramic casserole dish to bake. A small amount of the mixture didn’t fit, so I put it into a smaller ceramic dish with a cover. After a few hours, everything was finished. It just needed to stand for a few minutes to cool and thicken.

            This was fabulous. The pork was meltingly tender and its flavor, along with that of the herbs, infused throughout the beans. For anyone who wants to eat less meat, whether for health or ecological reasons or both, but doesn’t want to give it up entirely, a dish like this is an excellent choice. Beans are rich in vitamins and minerals and, like a few other plants, restore nitrogen to the soil they are grown in, naturally boosting its fertility. What’s not to love?

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Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 43 (Pgs. 137 – 138): Shrimp and “Bass” Risotto with Saffron

            With its abundance of seafood and rice, it is no surprise that Venetian cuisine would feature a number of seafood risottos. Here things are kept simple with shrimp and pieces of bass or other white fish, enhanced with zucchini, shallots and parmesan cheese, but in Venice the options are nearly limitless. One especially interesting example, called risotto nero, is colored black with squid or cuttlefish ink. For this recipe, the color is a surprisingly bright yellow, courtesy of saffron.

            Saffron has a fascinating history. Grown around the Mediterranean since ancient times, its prestige was nonetheless on the level of “exotic” spices from Asia. There were two reasons for this. First, it is really labor-intensive, with each saffron crocus yielding a few strands of the spice. It’s true allure, however, is its color. When added to a bit of liquid, it produces a brilliant golden hue. During the Middle Ages and Renaissance, it was often used to create “gilded” dishes for banquets. While stirring the threads and their steeping liquid into the dish, the color showed itself by degrees, starting with a pale, creamy yellow, gradually deepening into the color shown in the picture.

            Historically, saffron was considered to have medicinal qualities. Unfortunately, in this recipe it gave a distinct medicinal edge to the flavor. In addition, the fish broth used in the recipe is enhanced by simmering with shrimp shells. I’m not sure if it was the brand of broth I used (since I opted not to make my own) or the shrimp shells, but it gave off a powerful fishy aroma while simmering that lingered in the kitchen. Before adding it to the risotto I diluted it to compensate for what boiled off and reduce the strength, but the taste was still strongly fishy and medicinal.

            You might be thinking that fish is supposed to taste fishy, but many white fish like what I used (I think it was haddock, but I can’t remember for sure. It was on sale in the freezer section) have a fairly mild taste. I personally prefer it on the relatively rare occasions that I eat seafood, but that is a matter of personal taste. Unlike many Italian cooks, who view it as culinary heresy, Mr. Famularo has no issue with combining seafood and dairy. The addition of parmesan cheese and butter really helped balance things out. The shrimp weren’t overcooked, the fish cooked up nice and flaky, and the finished dish was actually quite enjoyable once I got used to the strong flavors. That said, if I made this again I’d reduce the amount of saffron. And probably skip the fish broth altogether.

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Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 71 (Pg. 227): Broccoli Rabe and Goat Cheese Pizza

            This is another interesting, tomato-less pizza. Topped with broccoli rabe and goat cheese, it has notable bitter and tangy flavors. A thick, mild-flavored crust, garlic-infused olive oil, mozzarella, and rosemary help balance them out. One thing to note is that broccoli rabe is not the same as broccoli or broccolini. It is actually an entirely different plant, with a strong, bitter flavor that needs to be tempered by cooking. As broccoli rabe is difficult to find where I live, I used mustard greens, which supposedly have a similar flavor. They ended up a little bland, but I think that could be dealt with by reducing the blanching time. Overall, this was pretty good, but I liked the last pizza better.

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Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 16 (Pg. 67): Tuscan Roast Pork with Rosemary

            Here is a Tuscan recipe that highlights the diversity of Italian cuisine. Featuring pork, potatoes, and peas, roasted and basted in a water bath, it wouldn’t look out of place at a US Midwestern supper club. Cuts are made in the pork, which are then stuffed with a mix of chopped garlic and herbs and stuck with cloves. Water is added to the pan, not enough to cover, but enough to keep the meat from drying out during a long cooking in a hot oven. Since the water will never get hotter than 212 degrees Fahrenheit and absorbs a lot of heat, the pork cooks slowly and stays wonderfully tender while the exposed top exterior crisps up. Just make sure to put whatever side of the meat has more fat on top. Not only will the melting fat keep the meat from drying out, it forms a delightfully crispy, crackly layer.

            Gradually the water absorbs juices from the meat, the melting fat, and the flavors of garlic, rosemary, and cloves, becoming more concentrated and flavorful as evaporation continues. Peeled new potatoes are added to soak up all the flavors, eventually followed by peas. Normally I do not bother peeling new or red potatoes, but it does help them absorb the flavor of the broth. When everything was finished the potatoes had a browned, crispy layer like the meat and the aroma saturated the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, it was a perfect cold-weather dinner.

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Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 24 (Pgs. 85 – 89): Piedmontese Specialties

Menu: Fontina Fondue with Steamed Vegetables, Beef Braised with Red Wine and Spices, Cabbage with Lemon, Chestnut Puree with Whipped Cream and Candied Orange Strips

Recommended Wine: Barolo or other bold Piedmontese red

            Here is another pasta-free Northern menu. Home to the Kingdom of Savoy, which united Italy for the first time in over a millennium, the Piedmont region boasts a sophisticated cuisine. Perhaps its most famous product is the white truffle, among the most prized and expensive in the world. Or the red wines of the Nebbiolo grape, held by connoisseurs to be among the finest in Italy. There are hazelnut confections, candied chestnuts known as marrons glaces, cow’s milk cheeses, beef, veal, polenta, potatoes, mushrooms, and cabbage. Panna cotta originated here, where dairy is plentiful. All of the dishes in this menu contain Piedmontese specialties; fontina, beef braised in red wine, savoy cabbage, and chestnuts.

            Among the cow’s milk cheeses is fontina. Semi-soft and creamy, it melts easily, lending itself to a variety of dishes. One of these is fondue, enriched with egg yolks and seasoned with white pepper and nutmeg. The reason for using white pepper is to avoid the dark flecks black pepper would cause, as well as its slightly different flavor. It can be a bit difficult to find except in its pre-ground form, but it’s worth seeking out or ordering whole white peppercorns. Pepper seems to lose its flavor faster than most other ground spices. Since you can’t be sure how long that container of pepper has been sitting on the shelf, it is always better to buy whole peppercorns and grind them as you need them. Pepper grinders are easy to find and inexpensive, but if you only use white pepper occasionally it might be better to use a mortar and pestle or spice grinder and save your pepper grinder for black pepper. If you can’t find whole white peppercorns, I would use freshly ground black pepper instead of pre-ground white pepper. The flavor difference between the two types of peppercorns is slight and whole black peppercorns are available in most spice aisles.

            The beef dish, braised with wine and sweet spices along with the vegetables, has a somewhat Medieval character. Once the meat is cooked, it is removed while the other ingredients are pureed. If you have an immersion blender, this is the perfect time to use it. The pureed vegetables thicken the sauce, which is then served with the sliced beef. I had a slight incident with this dish, but the issue was human error, not the recipe. While we were eating the fondue, I left the meat in the pot to stay warm but turned off the burner. Upon starting the cabbage, I took the meat out, put it on a cutting board, and turned the burner back on to make sure the sauce was nice and hot. Unfortunately, I turned on the wrong burner. Instead of the one under the sauce, I turned on the one under the cutting board. As I was busy with the cabbage, I didn’t notice the mistake until the plastic cutting board started to warp and melt. Thankfully the melting was only on the bottom and the meat was unharmed, but I was pretty shaken up by the incident. Needless to say, the cutting board was thrown out.

            Cabbage and chestnuts are favorites in Piedmontese cuisine. The cabbage is served with a straightforward lemon butter sauce. Dessert, however, is quite unusual. Cooked chestnuts are warmed in a mix of milk, sugar, and cocoa, then mashed and put through a food mill onto the plates. I don’t happen to have a food mill, so I used a small ice cream scoop to put scoops of puree on the plates. These could then be topped with whipped cream and candied orange peel as directed.

            Chestnuts have an interesting history in the hilly and mountainous areas of Northern and Central Italy, as well as in neighboring Southeastern France and Corsica. In many of these regions, wheat did not grow especially well but chestnut trees did, making the abundant nuts the “bread” of the poor. Despite being viewed as an inferior substitute, they were a reasonably nutritious staple. Plus, as they were less valuable commercially than grain, chestnuts were less likely to be taxed in kind by the landowners. That’s not to say the rich had no interest in them, but they consumed them in a different manner. Candied marrons glaces became a popular confection in the Early Modern Era. As sugar prices continued to drop, a variety of cakes and tortes appeared. Over time, increased general wealth has made these things affordable to the larger population.

            The fondue was the best part of the menu. I was a little worried about adding the beaten egg yolks directly into the cheese mixture, but due to the double boiler it was not quite hot enough to curdle them. For dipping were steamed carrots, broccoli, and mushrooms, along with my own addition of pieces of toasted Italian bread. There was supposed to be cauliflower as well, but I realized as I was getting everything together that I had forgotten to buy it. I’m sure it would have been excellent with the fondue, but so were the other vegetables and toast. The fondue was creamy, slightly salty, a little gritty from the pepper and nutmeg, and generally fabulous. While it is most commonly used as a baking spice, nutmeg adds a nice bit of extra flavor to cream and cheese sauces. The leftovers were especially good on toast, placed under the broiler to brown.

            After the cutting board mishap, the beef was also delicious. The low, slow cooking had made it extremely tender, and there was enough leftover sauce to use with a pork tenderloin a few days later, once all the beef had been eaten. The cabbage, I must admit, was not my favorite. It was sauced with a mix of butter, fresh lemon juice, salt, pepper, and nutmeg, but the proportions were not to my taste. Though freshly squeezed lemon juice has many good uses (like lemonade, salad dressing, on seafood, etc.), it needs to be tempered with something to shine. Here there was not enough butter to do so. But again, that is a matter of personal taste.

            I felt similarly about the dessert. It was good, but I’m not sure I’d make it again. The texture was nice, but between the heavily sweetened chestnut puree, sweet whipped cream, and candied orange peel, the sweetness was a bit overwhelming. Maybe some unsweetened whipped cream would balance it out, but with all the other excellent desserts in the book (ex. cherry jam tart, panna cotta, praline mousse cake, biscotti, almond cookies, chocolate roll, apple charlotte, baked stuffed peaches, etc.) I’m not sure I’d bother. The star here was the fondue.

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