Tag Archives: piedmont

Pork Chop Marengo
food history, french cuisine, italian cuisine, recipes

Napoleonic Entree: Chicken or “Veal” (Pork) Marengo

Pork Chop Marengo
Pork Chop Marengo

            Despite his remarkable career, Napoleon Bonaparte had several close calls on his rise to power. One such case was at the Battle of Marengo in June 1800. Napoleon had seized power in a coup the previous year. To secure his rule, he needed military victories. At the time, he was fighting the Austrians for control of northern Italy. They met in battle near the city of Alessandria, in the Piedmont region.

            At first, the battle didn’t go well for the French, but Napoleon managed to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. His control over Italy was secured, skeptics in France were reassured, and other ambitious generals were discouraged from turning on him. To celebrate, or simply because he was hungry after a long and no doubt stressful battle, Napoleon requested a special dish. Or so the story goes.

            Recipes for chicken marengo vary enormously. The only constants seem to be chicken (or occasionally veal) browned in olive oil, onions, and tomatoes, braised together to make a sort of stew. There’s usually garlic, mushrooms, and white wine. Many recipes include shallots and parsley, and a few use brandy instead of wine. Great chef Auguste Escoffier recommended including fried eggs and crayfish. Regardless of specifics, toasts fried in butter traditionally accompany chicken marengo.

            To make things even more complicated, there seems to be a debate about whether chicken marengo is French or Italian. In Mimi Sheraton’s 1,000 Foods to Eat Before You Die, it’s in the French section, but I’ve also seen recipes in Italian cookbooks. Since the Piedmont region was historically part of the Duchy of Savoy, a realm straddling the Alps between France and Italy and right on the trade routes between them, it’s hardly surprising that a Piedmontese dish would be adopted into French cuisine, or vice-versa. And it’s fitting that an entrée associated with Napoleon should be considered both French and Italian. After all, he himself was a native of Corsica, then ruled by Genoa, but made his career in France.

            For my own recipe, I combined the different strands into one, with no eggs or crayfish. The nice thing about chicken or “veal” marengo is that after browning the meat and making the “sauce,” it can be kept overnight and cooked the following day. Everything can be done in a Dutch oven, but if you don’t have one, a skillet and slow-cooker will also work. If you want to reduce fat and calories, the bread can be toasted dry in the oven or toaster, instead of in the buttered skillet. Or don’t toast it, if you prefer, but whatever you do, don’t skip it. You need bread to soak up the sauce.

Here’s how to make it:

Ingredients:

  • 1 chicken, cut up, or roughly 3 pounds bone-in pork (or veal) chops
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 4 tablespoons butter, plus more to brown toasts
  • 1 medium onion, quartered and thinly sliced
  • 2 shallots, halved and thinly sliced
  • 4 garlic cloves, crushed with the side of the knife and minced
  • 1 bunch parsley, thick stems separated from leaves and thinner stems, and both parts minced separately (don’t discard the thick stems)
  • 3 tablespoons dry white wine, mixed with 1 tablespoon brandy
  • 2 tablespoons flour
  • 1 (roughly 15 oz) can crushed tomatoes, or about 2 lbs fresh tomatoes, chopped
  • 1 pound mushrooms, cut into thick slices, with larger pieces halved
  • Baguette or Italian bread, to serve

Directions:

  1. Brown meat in the olive oil and two tablespoons of the butter in the skillet or Dutch oven over medium heat. Set aside on a plate.
  2. Add onion and shallots and sauté, stirring frequently, for about 5 minutes, or until they start to turn golden. Add the garlic and parsley stems and cook for 2 more minutes (garlic is added later because it cooks faster and burns more easily).
  3. Stir in the wine/brandy mix, making sure to scrape up any browned bits at the bottom of the pan. Cook until the liquid is mostly evaporated, 5 to 10 minutes.
  4. Add the flour and stir until incorporated. Follow with the tomatoes, and water if using canned. Bring sauce mixture to a boil. If using fresh tomatoes, reduce heat and simmer for 10 to 15 minutes, until the tomatoes break down and release their juice. Add salt and pepper to taste.
  5. Place the meat, skin side up if using chicken, in the Dutch oven or slow-cooker, and cover with the sauce. At this point, the chicken/pork/veal marengo can be refrigerated overnight if desired.
  6. Preheat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit, if using Dutch oven. Bake for 2 to 3 hours, until the meat is tender (if the stew was chilled overnight, it will probably be at the longer end of the time range).
  7. If using a slow-cooker, cook for about 4 hours on high or 6 – 8 on low. If it’s a little longer, like if you put it on before leaving for work, that’s completely fine.
  8. Half an hour before serving (with either cooking method), melt the remaining butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add the mushrooms and a little salt and cook, stirring frequently, until soft and aromatic, about 10 to 15 minutes. Add to the stew, pressing them down into the sauce, and leave to cook while browning the toasts (or for 15 minutes if you decide to use untoasted bread).
  9. Toast the bread pieces in a buttered skillet over medium low heat until browned.
  10. Sprinkle the stew with the parsley leaves and serve, toasts on the side.

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food history, french cuisine, italian cuisine

Foods Not Eaten: Prohibitive Cost

Poularde en Demi-Deuil (chicken with black truffles), Insalata de Ovoli e Tartufi (oval mushroom and white truffle salad), Risotto Piedmontese (with white truffles)

1000 Foods (pgs. 118, 198, 233)

            You’ll probably notice a theme here. Truffles, particularly from the Perigord region of France and Piedmont region of Italy, are really expensive. There are two reasons for this. First, they are highly sought after. Second, these varieties have resisted all attempts to farm. Truffles generally only grow among the roots of oak and chestnut trees, but not with any predictability. They must be foraged by truffle hunters with trained dogs. Based on the laws of economics, a limited supply plus high demand equals high prices. Truffles’ reputation as an aphrodisiac, whether accurate or not, only increases their allure.

            At one time, truffle hunters used pigs, which are great at sniffing out the elusive fungi, even under several inches of soil. Problem was, pigs also like to eat the truffles, so the industry switched to dogs, who are content with a treat and some petting. Since pigs also disturb the soil when rooting out the truffles, making it harder for the spores to grow new tubers, their use has since been banned in many areas.

            While actual truffles from Perigord and Piedmont are too expensive, especially for a fungus that grows in the dirt, the chocolate variety is another story. Made of chocolate and cream and rolled in cocoa powder, they only resemble the fungus in appearance. The great thing about chocolate truffles, aside from how easy they are to make, is how customizable they are. Dark chocolate orange, milk chocolate mint, white chocolate mocha, rolled in chopped almonds, the possibilities are endless.

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beverages, food history, italian cuisine, recipes

Northwestern Italy’s Afternoon Pick-Me-Up: Bicerin

1000 Foods (pgs. 165 – 166) for information, recipe is my own creation

            Italians seem to love their coffee, but have some interesting opinions about what kind of coffee to drink when. Any coffee with milk, such as cappuccino, should only be drunk in the morning. Maybe that’s because many Italians don’t eat much breakfast and need the calories. Unless they’re drinking gallons of café lattes or adding sweeteners, they probably won’t be getting many, but maybe black coffee is too irritating on an empty stomach. It seems like adding milk to coffee in the afternoon, or after dinner, would cut the caffeine and allow for better sleep, but apparently that’s culinary heresy. But I don’t care for coffee unless it has a fair amount of milk and sugar, so what do I know?

            One particularly delicious coffee drink is bicerin, essentially a fancy layered mocha native to Turin. A number of 19th Century authors loved it. To enjoy it at home, a heatproof glass is essential, as is “a steady hand,” in the words of Mimi Sheraton. The servings are small by American standards, but the drink is rich and meant to be savored. Espresso goes into the glass first, followed by thick hot chocolate. If this is done correctly and the chocolate is thick enough, it will sink to the bottom. Foamed milk goes on top, carefully, so it will stay separate, at least temporarily. Bicerin is not stirred. Rather, the layers mix as you drink it, and flavor gradually shifts from mostly coffee and milk to mostly chocolate.

            Charges of culinary heresy aside, bicerin is a great afternoon treat. Drinking it in the morning seems like a recipe for a sugar crash before lunch. Plus, it’s a bit fiddly to make, not ideal for someone who isn’t a morning person. For the right consistency, almost like a syrup, the hot chocolate should be made from scratch with chocolate pieces and milk. 2 ounces of bittersweet chocolate and 4 ounces (1/2 cup) of milk seems to be the right amount for two servings. Espresso needs to be made, and milk needs to be heated and foamed. For two servings, 6 ounces of espresso and 1 cup of a 50/50 mix of milk and half-and-half is about right. None of this is particularly difficult, but having all three elements hot and ready at the same time can be a logistical challenge to anyone still half-asleep.

            So in summary, you need: 2 ounces of bittersweet chocolate, 1 cup milk, 6 ounces espresso, and ½ cup half-and-half. Melt the chocolate in half of the milk, stirring frequently, until smooth. Remove from heat. Prepare the espresso however you choose. Combine the remaining milk with the half-and-half and heat, whisking almost constantly, until the mixture is foamy and steaming. The coffee goes in the glasses first, then the chocolate. Spoon the milk foam over the top, don’t stir, and serve. And enjoy by mid-afternoon at the latest. With three ounces espresso and an ounce of dark chocolate per serving, it will keep you up otherwise.

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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 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.

Fondue and vegetables

            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.

Beef, cabbage, and dessert

            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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Cook’s Tour of Italy Menu 25 (Pg. 89): Polenta with Fontina Cheese, Tomatoes and Roasted Peppers (Piedmont)

Menu: Polenta with Cheese, Peppers, Tomatoes and Basil

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We now journey to the northwest corner of Italy, to the Piedmont region. Combined in a chapter with Liguria directly to the south, the two regions nonetheless seem to have notably different food traditions. Piedmont, historically part of the Kingdom of Savoy, is a region of mountains crisscrossed by fertile valleys. Like neighboring Lombardy, Piedmont is north of the olive-growing zone and has thus historically relied on the animal fats butter and lard. The Alpine pastures of the region have long produced a relative abundance of beef, veal, butter, and cow’s milk cheeses, including the fontina featured here.

Polenta is more common than pasta here, as in much of Northern Italy, and can be eaten in a variety of different ways. It can be poured out of the saucepan as is, or it can be cooled to firm up, sliced, and baked or fried, enhanced by any number of toppings. Here it is baked with a straightforward sauce of roasted red peppers and tomatoes, a liberal sprinkle of fontina cheese, then topped with chopped basil upon being removed from the oven. Aside from setting off the smoke alarm a few times roasting the peppers under the broiler (the skin has to get quite dark and blistered for the insides to soften properly), this was quite easy to prepare.

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Admittedly, I found this menu a bit disappointing, which is a first for this project. I think a lot of it has to do with personal taste. The flavors were not bad by any means, but seemed a little bland and uninteresting. The sauce seemed like it needed something, maybe some garlic and/or herbs, and the creamy but mild fontina would have been enhanced by a bit of parmesan. Then there’s the fact that polenta is essentially grits, which are not my favorite. That’s not to say there aren’t good things going on in this one-dish meal. It all comes down to personal taste.

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