Tag Archives: lombardy

Chocolate roll
food history, italian cuisine

Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 32 (Pgs. 107 – 111): Menu for 4, Bergamo

Chocolate roll
Dessert, the star of the show

Region: Lombardy

Menu: Bergamo-Style Ravioli, Rabbit Roasted in Red Wine, Bergamo-Style Polenta, Cheese with Mixed Salad, Sambuca-Flavored Cocoa Roll (orange flavor instead)

Recommended Wine: Spumante

            Bergamo is in the northern Italian province of Lombardy, north of Milan. As in the rest of northern Italy, there is a lot of fresh pasta and polenta, butter often replaces olive oil, and there are plentiful cow’s milk cheeses like fontina, gorgonzola, parmesan, and mascarpone. While generally overshadowed by its larger neighbor, Bergamo has its own specialties. One of these is a unique ravioli, filled with a mix of chicken, pork, salami, vegetables, and a little cheese. They are dressed in melted butter and sage, parmesan cheese, and toasted bread crumbs.

Bergamo ravioli

            This was my first attempt at making my own pasta, and it went surprisingly well. Since I don’t have a pasta roller, I rolled little pieces of dough into circles with a rolling pin and folded them around the filling in a half-moon shape. It was a slow process, but making the ravioli bigger sped things along. The meat-and-vegetable filling was deliciously different from the usual cheese-heavy varieties, though there’s nothing wrong with those.

            The only thing I would change is to cook the larger ravioli for an extra minute or two. Having thicker pasta kept the ravioli from bursting open, but not factoring it into the cooking time left it a little tough. It was still delicious, and the extras are in the freezer for whenever a quick homemade dinner is desired.

Advertisements

            Another first for this menu was the rabbit. The idea was a little tough at first, until I reminded myself that this rabbit (which according to the package was a product of Spain) was bred and raised exclusively for food. It was never someone’s pet, or a former resident of the nearby farm/petting zoo. Besides, people have been eating rabbits for a lot longer than they’ve been keeping them as pets. They were a common protein into the 20th Century, and one 1930s menu even had rabbit pot pie as an economical alternative to chicken.

Rabbit and polenta

            Rabbit does, in fact, taste sort of like dark meat chicken, but a little different and very lean. The fact that chicken is easier to farm on an industrial scale probably explains why rabbit isn’t as popular as it used to be. Or maybe it’s just that people didn’t grow up with the Easter Chicken. Or the fact that chickens won’t stand on their hind legs like a prairie dog when offered a banana chip.

Black rabbit
Not the second course…and I wasn’t rabbit sitting when I made this menu either.

            Regardless, most rabbit recipes seem to involve slow-cooking it in liquid and/or adding some extra fat. In this case, the fat came from a bit of Italian sausage, and the liquid was red wine. It did taste very good, though in the future I would probably just use chicken thighs, which are cheaper and easier to find. At least for this recipe.

            Upon reading the recipe, I was surprised at how quickly the polenta cooked. Once the salted water was boiling, the corn grits/polenta only had to cook for about five minutes. It required frequent but not constant stirring, and didn’t get lumpy, which is a common problem. Was the addition of a little buckwheat flour the key to a good consistency? Perhaps, and either way, the addition of butter, sage, and fontina cheese gave the final mix a pleasant rich but mild flavor that contrasted well with the stronger flavors in the rest of the meal.

            The salad was similar to many others in the book; a mix of greens dressed with a flavorful homemade dressing. The store didn’t have the endive called for in the recipe, so I just used the arugula and radicchio. Unlike other lemon juice and oil “vinaigrettes,” a little bit of orange zest and some minced shallots seemed to sweeten the mix, keeping it from becoming too sour and letting it balance the bitter radicchio. Don’t worry if the oil solidifies in the refrigerator. Fifteen to thirty minutes at room temperature will take care of that.

Mixed salad

            For the cheese, I used fresh mozzarella instead of taleggio because that’s what was available at the store. Even though it’s a southern Italian cheese not native to the Bergamo area, it went very well with the salad, especially when served on the dressed greens instead of next to them. The bitter arugula and radicchio, sour and slightly sweet dressing, and mild mozzarella all contrasted beautifully without clashing.

            Dessert was one of the best things I’ve made in a while. The “cake” is a mix of egg yolks whipped with sugar, melted chocolate, a bit of flavoring, and separately whipped egg whites folded in at the end. The original recipe calls for three tablespoons of sambuca to be mixed in with the chocolate. Since I didn’t want to buy a whole bottle that I would be unlikely to drink or use in other recipes, I considered replacing it with a teaspoon of anise extract mixed into some cream, until I remembered that replacing wine with milk caused a previous attempt at zabaglione to fail. To keep the chemistry similar, I initially settled on a teaspoon of anise extract mixed into three tablespoons brandy.

Advertisements

            Then I considered that anise (the flavor of black licorice) is not generally my favorite flavoring. Trying a bit over a scoop of ice cream with a sprinkle of coffee granules is one thing. It’s a single serving that takes two minutes to make. Even though that turned out well, I was hesitant to put anise flavoring into an entire cake that was a bit fiddly to make. Other extract options were vanilla, almond, and orange. Since I was already making an almond cheesecake for a different event, I settled on orange for something different. A teaspoon went into the “cake,” and half a teaspoon went into the whipped cream filling.

Chocolate roll

            The cake was spectacular. The texture ended up somewhere between a brownie and a mousse, intensely chocolate lightened with a touch of orange. While the cake did crack slightly as I rolled it up, the inside still formed a recognizable spiral. Not pastry shop window perfect, and it wouldn’t pass muster on the Great British Baking Show, but still a pretty special occasion dessert. And of course, it’s the taste that counts. From time to time it’s well worth the effort.

Standard
Uncategorized

Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 30 (Pgs. 98 – 102): Milanese Risotto Menu

Region: Lombardy

Menu: Broccoli Baked with Prosciutto, Milan-Style “Veal” Shanks, Milan-Style Risotto, Baby Spinach Salad with Oil and Lemon Dressing, Fresh Orange Slices with Slivers of Orange Zest

Recommended Wine: Various reds from Lombardy

            Milan is famous for many things. It is Italy’s business capital, a world-renowned fashion center, and home to more than 2000 years of history. In the 3rd and 2nd Centuries BC, Roman culture spread from there and other cities across the Po Valley. During the 4th and 5th Centuries AD, Western Roman Emperors often resided there instead of in Rome. Here they crossed paths with the Church Fathers, many of whom, including Saints Ambrose and Augustine, lived there for at least part of their careers. In the Middle Ages, Milan emerged as one of the main trading hubs of Northern Italy, even rivaling Venice and Genoa in the 14th and 15th Centuries. Other claims to fame include its silk industry, the world-famous La Scala Opera, and fabulous Gothic cathedral.

            Then there’s the food. Historically (and currently), Milan had a lot of wealthy residents, and it is the cuisine of the privileged that is most well-known. Milanese-style veal cutlet resembles Austrian schnitzel. Panettone, loaded with butter and egg yolks, has become a Christmas treat all over the world. Gorgonzola and mascarpone are just two of the region’s notable cheeses. But perhaps most famous is the duo featured here: braised veal shank with golden risotto.

            The name of the veal shank is osso buco, which roughly translates as “bone with the hole.” Inside the bone is the marrow. With its high fat content and soft texture when cooked, bone marrow was historically a delicacy and is still treasured in many parts of the world. For an authentic osso buco, it is essential, and often the dish is served with special narrow spoons for extracting it. (Text, pg. 100) A sprinkle of minced garlic, lemon peel, and parsley brightens an otherwise heavy entrée.

            Risotto Milanese gets its golden color from saffron, a spice used for this purpose as much as for its flavor. From Ancient Greece and Rome all the way to India, saffron was used as a dye. Ancient peoples often associated it with the sun and sometimes considered it sacred. In the Middle Ages, it was used to make elaborately gilded meats and poultry and add color to pastries, jellies, and other dishes. An early form of risotto may have been colored with saffron at this time, but probably would have been simply cooked in broth or almond milk and possibly flavored with sugar and spices. The addition of butter was a later, Early Modern addition.

            As discussed in previous posts, spinach and lemons were introduced to Europe during the Middle Ages. Both were adopted quickly, with spinach mostly replacing other greens (like sorrel) previously used in cooking. Lemons didn’t replace vinegar as a key sour ingredient, but their juice became a supplement while their aromatic peels were added to various dishes as an additional flavor. Around the same time, bitter and sour “Seville” oranges were introduced and were used in similar ways.  Sweet oranges came later, in the 16th Century, brought by Portuguese sailors returning from East Asia. Unlike most other fruits, they ripen in the winter, making them a popular Christmas treat for those who could afford them.

            This was a fantastic dinner overall. The buttery, lemony broccoli with parmesan cheese was an interesting change of pace, though the prosciutto was probably not necessary. There was plenty of flavor without it. The osso buco was well-deserving of its status as a classic. I made it with beef shank instead of veal, but kept everything else the same. The beef became tender over the long cooking time, a mix of carrot, onion, and celery gave the sauce a great flavor, while the gremolata, a mix of parsley, garlic, and lemon peel, brightened everything. Even the bone marrow, which I was a little unsure about, tasted rich and buttery when spread on the meat.

            Having a creamy risotto was a nice contrast to the highly-flavored meat and sauce, but I had two problems with the recipe. First, the saffron was not soaked in water or broth before being added. As a result, it didn’t finish releasing its color before the cooking was finished, so the risotto was fairly pale. As the dish sat on the table, orange spots appeared around the saffron threads. In addition, the medicinal flavor was pretty strong. Personally, I think a plain risotto would be a better complement, but it was still good. Any food that’s been around for hundreds of years tends to be.

            The salad was a nice palate cleanser, but the dressing seemed really sour. This has often been an issue with dressings that use lemon juice instead of vinegar. I’m not sure if Italian diners like sour flavors more or if the grocery near me has particularly acidic lemons. Either way, a tiny bit of sugar or honey would go a long way in balancing out the acidity without necessarily tasting sweet. If serving this again, not only would I add a bit of sugar or honey, but I would serve it after the broccoli. Even though all menus in the book that include salad place it after the main course, the bright, sour flavor makes more sense here. The salad can refresh the palate after the rich broccoli; the oranges serve the same purpose after the meat and rice.

            After all the meat, butter, and cheese, the oranges make a perfect dessert. The light syrup and sprinkling of zest add another level of complexity but keep them light and refreshing. I had a slight issue when the melted sugar hardened as soon as I added the fresh juice, but with lots of stirring and a little reheating I was able to get everything combined. These extra touches enhanced the oranges, but for a simpler dinner, plain orange slices or clementines would be good too. With the heavier foods common in the winter months, oranges provide a great contrast, plus fiber and lots of vitamin c. What more can you ask for in a winter dessert?

Standard
Uncategorized

Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 36 (Pg. 115): Genovese-Style Vegetable Soup

The raw ingredients

Menu: Genovese-Style Vegetable Soup, Bread

            Now its’s time to consider healthy food and fresh summer vegetables. This soup and those like it are frequently enjoyed by the residents of Lombardy while vacationing on the Ligurian Coast. Loaded with potatoes, beans, peas, zucchini, tomatoes, and several other vegetables, it contains no meat, meat broth, butter, or cheese. It’s just vegetables, water, salt, and olive oil, designed to be eaten with bread. These two foods, bread or some other starch and soup, are some of the most ancient and traditional dishes in numerous cultures across the globe. The reason for this is fairly simple. Since the rise of agriculture, most humans’ diet has been starch-based. Furthermore, cooking other foods in pottery or later metal vessels made sure all their calories and most of their nutrients went into the broth that would be consumed, rather than dripping into the embers and being wasted. Plus, soup can be made of pretty much anything available.

            In the case of Liguria, this has historically been lots of vegetables, herbs, and olive oil. The mild maritime climate allows vegetables to grow for a large part of the year and lets olive trees flourish north of where they ordinarily could (Liguria is north of Tuscany, their typical northern limit). Meanwhile the narrow coastal plain limits how much space can be dedicated to raising livestock. Hence, fish, vegetables, and olive oil have historically been more common than meat and butter and are still essential elements in the local cuisine. 

            The soup is really good, just make sure to add adequate salt. Since all the vegetables are fresh or, if necessary, frozen rather than canned and no broth is used, the only salt is whatever the cook adds. I thought I added plenty, but upon tasting the broth I thought it to be almost flavorless. Adding more salt changed my perspective entirely. It didn’t make the soup taste like salt, rather it brought out the vegetable flavors in the broth. While it is even better with a sprinkle of parmesan cheese and might benefit from a bit of vegetable soup base/bouillon, overall this recipe can be thought of as a tasty vegetarian minestrone.

Standard
Uncategorized

Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 29 (Pgs. 94 – 98): Menu for 6, Albavilla (Near Lake Como, Lombardy)

Menu: Poached Eggs and Parmesan in Broth, Milan-Style “Veal” Cutlet, Arugula Salad with Lemon Dressing, Apple/Pear/Ginger Milan Charlotte

Recommended Wine: Sassella, Grumello, or Inferno (Reds)

Heading north again, we arrive in Lombardy. Like Emilia-Romagna, most of the region is a fertile, relatively flat plain (part of the same river valley, actually, just upriver to the northwest). As the largest river valley in Italy, the Po Valley has long been one of its granaries, particularly in recent centuries as drainage methods have improved. Bordered by the Alps, dotted by glacial lakes and with adequate rainfall, the land around Milan, Pavia, Cremona, and Bergamo is remarkably different from Lazio and Tuscany, as is its history. Held by Celtic peoples until the 3rd century BC, it was occupied by Germanic Ostrogoths and Lombards (hence the name Lombardy) from the 5th to 8th centuries AD. Perhaps due to similar terrain and history, there are a number of similarities between the cuisines of Lombardy and Emilia-Romagna, particularly in the larger presence of meat, use of butter instead of olive oil, and large variety of cow’s milk cheeses.

Compared to those from regions further south, the recipes in the Lombardy chapter are distinctly less “Mediterranean” and to many Americans, more “familiar.” Unlike the last menu, which used a substantial quantity of olive oil, this one is full of butter. Without pasta, tomatoes or garlic, this meal of a rich soup, schnitzel-style “veal” cutlet, arugula salad, and a dessert of apples and pears stuffed in buttered bread is far from stereotypically Italian. It was delicious, though, perhaps my favorite menu so far.

Besides pasta, soup is a common first course in Italian cuisine. Along with many varieties of minestrone, there are soups and stews with vegetables, legumes and/or meat in various combinations, tortellini in broth, seafood chowders, and creamed vegetable soups, to name a few. This is one of the more unique ones. Called Zuppa Pavese in Italian, there is no direct English translation, but Mr. Famularo translates it as poached eggs and parmesan in broth. Layering a buttered piece of toast, a poached egg, and a sprinkle of parmesan cheese, then pouring a mix of chicken and beef broth over them, this interesting combination proves that broth-based soups can indeed be decadent.

IMG_2626

Zuppa Pavese

This soup also has an interesting backstory. It is said to have been created in 1525 for Francis I of France, who had recently been taken prisoner at the Battle of Pavia. The French had been fighting the Spanish over rival dynastic claims to Burgundy, Naples, and, most pertinently here, Milan. The backstories to these claims are fascinating, stretching back to the 13th Century and including a Sicilian rebellion against French rule backed by Aragon, various French incursions in the 14th Century, the first diamond engagement ring in 1477, and the various dynastic successes and mishaps of the children of Ferdinand and Isabella.

The Italian Wars, as they came to be called, started when Charles VIII of France invaded Naples in 1494. The king of Naples called in his ally/relative/eventual successor Ferdinand of Aragon. Hostilities continued under their respective successors until 1559. In 1525 the French monarch in question was Francis I, an energetic, boisterous figure with a love of all things Renaissance. Anyway, in the battle, Francis made the mistake of fighting in person. Though by all accounts he fought bravely, things didn’t go as planned and he was captured by the forces of his rival, the Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, who also happened to be Ferdinand and Isabella’s grandson. The conflict would outlive both of them, only being resolved (mostly in Spain’s favor) by their sons Henry II and Philip II in 1559.

While I don’t normally like poached eggs, they definitely made this soup. The buttery toasts, mixed broth, and parmesan cheese were good on their own, but the egg added richness and body. While there are broth recipes in the book, I used the alternate suggestion of low-sodium broth from cartons. Homemade is always nice, but also a lot of work in straining and freezing in manageable portions. The store brand was perfectly good, with a nice depth of flavor and not too much salt.

Due to a timing miscalculation, dessert was next: an apple and pear Charlotte, flavored with candied ginger. What is that, you may ask? There are actually two types of desserts known as “Charlottes.” One type, which you may have seen on the Great British Baking Show, is mostly composed of fruit, cream, and gelatin, with a border of ladyfingers or cake. The type here, however, has a fruit filling somewhat resembling pie filling and a “crust” of buttered bread. In the Milanese original version, buttered and sugared French bread is used to line a ring mold, which is filled with apples, raisins, and pine nuts, baked, and flambeed with rum. (Text, pg. 97) Mr. Famularo’s variation omits the rum and flambé (“too French for my Italian taste”), uses crustless white bread with just butter, replaces the raisins and pine nuts with pears and ginger, and is baked in timbale molds.

IMG_2628

Since I don’t actually have timbale molds (I’m not entirely sure what they are, but they sound like cone-shaped molds with the point removed), I used a ring mold. As I had already bought Italian bread for the soup, I used that to line the molds, but otherwise followed the recipe as written. It took a while to figure out how to line the mold, but once I did and got it filled and in the oven, it seemed like smooth sailing. Or so I thought. Since the bottom of the pan was removeable, some of the melting butter and juice from the baking fruit managed to leak out through the tiny gaps and made a mess in the oven.

The final dessert wasn’t necessarily pretty, but it tasted great. I was expecting soggy bread, but parts were crisp, other parts pleasantly sticky but holding together. The ginger was an interesting and delicious change of pace from the cinnamon/pie spice normally associated with apple desserts, though I’m sure either of those would have been good. Unsweetened whipped cream (which seems to be the norm in Italy as far as I can tell) and a sprinkle of chopped candied ginger balanced things perfectly. The recipe also called for a bit of softened gorgonzola cheese to be swirled into the whipped cream, but that was one thing I was not up to trying.

IMG_2632

Though pretty full by this point, we managed to make room for a bit of Milan-style “veal” cutlet and arugula salad with lemon dressing. Due to concerns about raising methods and veal being hard to find, I replaced the veal chops with pork chops. Though beef might seem a more likely replacement for veal, pork is often used as a substitute in the similar German/Austrian dish schnitzel, so that is what I ended up using. Plus, pork chops are much more affordable than pretty much any cut of beef. After pounding the bone-in chops to flatten then, they are soaked in milk for an hour, then dried, dipped in egg then breadcrumbs, and fried in butter.

Supposedly they should cook for 2-3 minutes per side then 5 more minutes to cook the middle (Text, pg. 96). Maybe for veal that would be the case, but I found it took noticeably longer. Most likely, the reason for this is that while red meat is often not cooked all the way through, I am weirded out by pork that isn’t, even though, with modern food safety standards, it is not strictly necessary. At any rate, when cooked, the chops are served with a lemon wedge.

They are good with just lemon, but with a bit of the salad dressing they are even better. Due to not wanting to wash more plates/bowls than necessary, I ended up putting the salad on the plates with the pork chops, where a bit of the dressing inevitably ended up on the meat. With lemon juice instead of vinegar, smoothed out by olive oil and a tiny bit of sugar, and made aromatic with lemon zest and minced garlic, the dressing, along with the peppery arugula, made a wonderful contrast to the rich, buttery pork. If you wish, a few different red wines from Lombardy are suggested to go with this menu.

IMG_2635

Standard