Marco_Polo
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Posts posted by Marco_Polo
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Wow, eunny that sounds amazing! Origamicrane, where's the supermarket in London? Do you have an address, contact details? I wonder if they supply mail order or sell over the web?
MP
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Hi Jim,
Just to say I always enjoy your tasting notes and appreciate the way you try and place them in the context of food which to me is how wine ought to be enjoyed. Wines notes from wines tasted out of context can sometimes be pretty meaningless (even though that's what I myself do with regular tastings - but I always afterwards try and retaste over food). Like your choice of wines, too: I love Arneis and haven't tasted Collioure in ages, but the name alone brings back fond memories of travel and food (and anchois de Collioure especially).
Rob, the fish-in-the-bag-filled-with-aromatics-flavours-and-oil sounds a fascinating cooking method. Afterwards, once the fish has cooked and steeped, do you serve with the oil as an aromatic sauce, or is that too greasy? Perhaps just a tablespoon or so sharpened with a squeeze of lemon?
Marc
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The Hotel Restaurant Su Gologone is a wonderful place serving wholly local island foods, notably a range of outstanding Sardinian handmade pasta (angiulottus - ravioli type stuffed pasta, gnocchetti alla sarda - small semolina dumplings great with wild boar sugo, maccarrones de busa, homemade spaghetti type pasta served with ragu), plus the star dish, porceddu - sucking pig - cooked in a massive open fire in the dining room. Homemade Sardinian dolci are great too! Located near Oliena in central Sardinia so great as a base for mountain walks.
MP
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Bellissima! Sitting here, looking out on the rain and cold of South West England, you've made me want to jump on a plane immediately to help with la vendemmia.
Grazie!
Marc
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My mother-in-law, on the other hand, hates them all, takes everything back, even if it's perfect, just to keep them on their toes. They hate her but respect her. . .
A support forum would be nice. :)
My god Miguel, I don't know what I'm more terrified of: those hirsute Portuguese fish wives ... or your formidable mother-in-law taking them on. I doubt if I'll sleep a wink tonight.
A support forum? Hell, I'm thinking of full time therapy.
M
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... This will start the wooing process, which is to your advantage as she'll give you the very best, to hook you.
It makes sense: they give their best to their best customers. I expect it's like this everywhere but here it's more ostentatious as the tradition is not to "shop around" - no, you find a regular vendor and, barring a mishap and a dramatic falling-out, she's yours for life.
Miguel, I'll give you an example of how utterly lily-livered we are. As you know, we've been going to the Algarve for more than a quarter of a century. In those days Armacão da Pera, the nearest town to where we stay, was then just a grubby little seaside fisherman's outpost; now it's a grubby, sprawling, horrendous tourist resort - but - and this is the point - a wholly Portuguese, not foreign, grubby tourist resort. In those long-ago halycon days, the mercado was a simple, covered affair, quite small, picturesque, the sort of market tourists love to take pictures of. One stallholder, a wizened old crone dressed in black, with a withered arm, seemed to take a shine to us, young and bright-eyed as we were (we might as well have worn signs around our necks: Suckers). Of course it was obvious we were tourists: how could we have been anything else? But we were tourists who cooked food (not just took photographs of it) and therefore always purchased vegetables and fruit in arm-aching quantity. So whenever we'd appear, she'd give us a handful of almonds (delicious), perhaps a ripe fig or a peach (how kind). But if we ever even so much as paused at someone else's stall on entering the market, she'd shuffle over and get our attention with a little gift, while looking daggers and death at her audacious competitor who had dared to try and lure us away. This went on for years, even after the market moved to its present hideously ugly purpose-built premises. When our children were born, the old girl in black (looking strangely younger each year - I think with all the money she made from us, she was holidaying for the winter in Madeira) now transferred her attentions to Guy and Bella, insisting on holding them when they were babies, and later kissing them (to my son's great embarrasment and discomfort), handing them a few almonds, perhaps an over-ripe fig or peach. You could see the other stallholders rolling their eyes as she did so, but godammit, we were hooked. As you say, hers for life.
It reached the point, Miguel, where we came to dread going to the market. I tried everything (for I like nothing so much as going to the market, most of all for the delicious satisfaction afterwards, leaning on the counter of an outdoor stall, bulging bags at my feet, enjoying a hot bifana roll com piri-piri and an ice cold Sagres beer as a reward for the efforts). But it was the tyranny of it, Miguel, the utter and shameless tyranny of being in the inescapabe clutches of that persistent old crone. I even took, I confess, to wearing an elaborate disguise (being summer, a time when few clothes are worn, my options were limited but I found an impressive - and very expensive - chest wig with sewn-on gold medallion and I wore outrageous designer sunglasses that hid my whole face). But damn me if the old gal didn't spot me immediately, and crab across the market floor, taking me in her wizened arm to gently lead me away from temptation, back to her stall, offering me the token gift - an almond, a fig or near rotten peach - stroking the fake chest wig in apparent admiration (it was, I must admit, very lush and handsome if unacceptably hot in summer), cooing over me, making a fuss, filling our bags, stroking, cooing, taking our money: yes, hers for life, all hers...
This summer we went, as usual, to the market. On the way we debated, as always, whether to venture around to 'our' vegetable stall (unfortunately the ameijoas are sold near where she is located - and one of the main reasons for going to market, I'm sure everyone agrees, is to purchase ameijoas). Therefore, while my bag of squirting clams was being prepared, I snuck a glance over in the direction of where the old girl should have been. My god, she was not there! Nor was her hideous daughter, who had taken in recent years to handing us rotten fruit as well, without ever even trying to disguise the fact that she was only doing it to bribe us. What had happened? Had she, perhaps, passed away? Or, far more likely, retired to a posh villa in Madeira to live the year round? I found myself wandering over, as if pulled by some strange and mysterious magnet force. She was gone. We were free! In her place, an old lady, dressed all in black, tiny behind the mountains of melons and cabbages and greeny-red, gnarled tomatoes. She hobbled to her feet when we approached, gave me a cracked grin, and pressed a few almonds in my hand, gave Kim a perfectly ripe fig...
Marc
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In my case, for example, I make macerations on the skins of 12-15 days:traditional But I use only barrique:modernist And I don't use selected yeasts or bacterians:traditional
You see, things are changed a lot....
It means that, maybe, the definition of modern and traditional must be re-written, and I hope that in a future, differences will came out only from the soil and not from the mentality of the producer...
Ciao Andrea,
Many thanks for this fascinating insight into how you work to create your hand-crafted wines. Your comments indicate the complexity of the modern v traditional argument, and highlight that it is not just about botti v barrique but also of course about the selection and vinification itself (capello sommerso, rimontaggio etc) as well as other priorities and preferences unique to each winemaker. Innovation in a deeply traditional and prestigious wine zone such as The Langhe must be the most difficult task of all to achieve but clearly in the last years and decades the result is that better and better wines are being produced (whether strictly 'modern' or 'traditional').
The fact that such changes have taken place at all indicates a remarkable willingness to be open-minded to change and evolution in the vineyard and the cantina, far more so than could ever be possible in, say, the Côte d'Or or the Medoc. But are there limits? The great grape varieties of the Langhe - Nebbiolo, Barbera and Dolcetto - have given brilliant results that have stood the test of time. What do you think about the introduction and experimentation with international varieties (inevitably Cabernet Sauvignon), as well as experimentation with non-traditional blends (Nebbiolo/Barbera or whatever) for the production of either super-Piemonte or super-IGT wines? Is there a future for such wines? Or should winegrowers/winemakers concentrate on producing wines that above all demonstrate the unique tipicità of this most privileged and prestigious corner of the wine world? And indeed does not tipicità and tradition go hand in hand?
Marc
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If you're going just to gawp (a real taboo) at least walk about with a few plastic bags to avoid a lynch mob being formed. And, whatever you do, look surly and profoundly pissed off, be shocked with the prices, however low, and keep looking at your watch as if you'd rather be somewhere else.
Whoa, Miguel my friend, what a great primer in market behaviour and deportment! This post should be developed into a full scale eG tutorial/workshop that would be relevant for market shopping the world over. In fact, you've inspired me to start working on my *attitude* now, yes tonight (especially on looking as 'surly and profoundly pissed off' as I can). Shopping in Portuguese markets will never, I mean never, be the same again (what a lily-livered soft touch I've been all these years). I wonder if I can practise in my local Tescos? Dare I try browbeating the teenage shelf-stacker to knock a couple of pence off the price of the cornflakes? No, perhaps instead I'll eat a peach...
Marc
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Hi Marc
My friends who live in Dartmouth report that it's still child-friendly. great for brunch, apparently.
Fi
Hi Fi,
Thanks for this, it's good to know. Our kids are now 16 and 11 and we've always pretty well taken them everywhere and anywhere since they were born (had to since we were on frequent lengthy research trips). As a result they absolutely love eating out and have always just been comfortable being in restaurants and enjoying good food at whatever level. Taking them out at this age is now great fun: they're almost like adults and enjoy all the courses and in-between courses (my son the wine too). If Burton-Race is creating a place that has an easy atmosphere where people of all ages feel comfortable (while at the same time serving good food correctly and with some style) then he's at the very least doing something right and I applaud him. There are still too many places that are just too damn stuffy and formal for today's more easy relaxed style of dining and living. The review in the Indie pretty well confirms Moby's experience, and it does sound promising (except for the arc lights - god, imagine going for a quiet dinner and finding a telly crew filming your every bite...). There's no excuse why we haven't made it there yet: we'll have to pop across soon.
Moby, here's as good a place as any to send our sincere congratulations to you and Kate. Twins, how doubly exciting! Well done and all the best to you both.
Marc
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On the looooong drive that is the possibly Damascian road which is oft mistaken as the A30 to Cornwall, we tootled south at just the right moment in order to end up in Dartmouth for luncheon - and weren't we just the happiest fish in the barrel? Had an excellent meal at:
The New Angel
Thanks for the excellent report, Moby. We've rather been dreading returning to this new and very different manifestation of an old favourite, but it seems significantly different enough as to be virtually unrecognisable. Weather permitting, we're going around to Dartmouth in a convoy by boat in a few weekends, and it might be just the place to get a big table of friends together. The old Carved Angel was always incredibly child-friendly (I remember my son enjoying foie gras there when he was only 4); your report suggests that the New Angel might be equally relaxed with its more informal approach and casual food. A good place for an easy and relaxed family lunch?
Marc
PS Why didn't you stop off here on your journey - we're no more than 5 minutes off the M5/A30? Next time...
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We use Riverford Organic Farm for a weekly organic vegetable and salad box. It's brilliant, located not far from where I live, and the produce always seemed just picked. Riverford is almost unique, I think, in having a virtually nationwide delivery network. Gets a little dreary in winter, though, all those damn root vegetables...
We've also used the Organic Farmers market - good selection of foods, including organic meats from the deliciously named Well Hung Meat Company. Lamb in particular is sensational. Good one stop organic shopping.
John and Nichola Fletcher's mail order venison farm Fletchers of Auchtermuchty offers wonderful humanely reared venison.
For outrageously good Cumberland sausage, traditional dry cured bacon and hams, the best we've ever eaten come from Bar Woodall's of Waberthwaite, Cumbria.
Esperya, the Italian web artisan food specialist, is not as good as it once was (when Antonio Tombolini was there), but you can still order mozzarella di bufala on a Sunday night, it's made on a farm in Campania on the Monday, despatched on the Tue, and you're eating it on the Wednesday. That still seems to me a bloody miracle. Fresh produce comes packed in a styrofoam box kept cool with dry ice. Hand-made mozzarella (as opposed to machine - 'mozzare' to tear), lusciously creamy and not remotely rubbery, is truly to die for and one of the greatest foods on earth. Go on, order some right now. I am.
(Obviously it goes without saying that I have no commercial links whatsoever with any of the above.)
Marc
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Jeez, what's going on? Has no one here yet mentioned 'russian dressing' - or at least that's what I've always called it. This is absolutely indepensable to any good burger: simply Hellman's mayo (no other will do), Heinz ketchup (no other will do), chopped pickled gherkins, a spoon or so Dijon mustard (any will do), a squeeze of lemon juice, a splash of Tabasco. All mixed together. Dollop and spread this liberally on the toasted sesame bottom bun first, then add slice of romaine lettuce (no other will do), then the burger (fat, juicy and rare), then slice of tomato (no onions, thank you very much), then more russian dressing - lots - on the top toasted bun...There should be enough so that when you take a two-fisted bite of the burger, a mixture of rare hamburger juices mixes with the tomato and russian dressing to dribble down your chin and possibly down your hands and arms. But it tastes so damn good that you just don't even care. A burger without that dribble of flavours, well, it's hardly worth eating, is it?
MP
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The most promising "AOC wine" stages of Le Tour 2004:
Exellent precís, Boris! I'm glad others are looking forward to the TdF as much as I am. And wine drinking is very much a part of the experience: I get together with my cycling chums most evenings (but not until the second week when the phony war is over) to watch the highlights (definitely Ligget not Duffield) over a bottle of wine or two or three. I will definitely bear your suggestions in mind as it will add that certain je ne sais quoi.
MP
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One of the most evocative, simple and beautifully written food books I've enjoyed in recent years is 'Bread and Oil: Majorcan Culture's Last Stand' by Tomás Graves, originally published by Prospect Books here in Devon. Tomás, a typographer and book designer, is the son of the great British poet and classicist Robert Graves. Tom Jaine, the publisher, commissions and produces a list of fascinating small press titles covering world cuisines and food history. Prospect Books deserves the support of everyone who loves food and words about food.
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Moby, if you're sourcing good poultry for a tasting, you might try contacting Ark Chicken, a free range farm in Silverton not far outside of Exeter. Michael Caines is very keen on Ark for chicken as well as guinea fowl and uses it in his restaurants. I've not come across the Label Anglais myself: I imagine it must be modeled on the French Label Rouge?
As for poulet de Bresse, in my experience it's wondrous both for it's exceptional 'chickeny' flavour as well as for the pure and unblemished whiteness of its flesh. Very pretty birds, with a distinctive blue cockscomb that is itself quite tasty and something of a delicacy. The chicken, when butchered and cut up carefully in the area in France where it's raised, is a real treat to cook. I remember camping near Bresse some years ago, and simply cooking a poulet de Bresse à la crème, sautéed on a camp stove in half a bottle of decent Beaujolais with champignons de Paris (probably out of a tin) and finished with a good dollop of crème fraîche. Eaten outdoors, the sauce mopped up with crusty pain au levain, and washed down with another bottle or so of Beaujolais, it was a sensational and memorably simple meal.
But sublime simplicity comes at a cost: it was probably the most expensive chicken we'd ever bought.
Marc
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This thread has brought back, from the deepest mists of time, my worst tuna sandwich memory. It was in my senior year at high school in Worthington, Ohio, when some friends and I forged notes to play hooky and drove down to watch Cincinnati's Big Red Machine in the newly built Riverfront Stadium (in the days of Pete Rose and Johnny Bench, that's how long ago it was - and no I was not, never was, never will be a Reds fan; having been raised in the Bay Area, I was, am, and always will be a Giants fan, even though I rarely get a chance to follow baseball these days).
Someone, it might well have been me, in fact it probably was me, made some tuna sandwiches - delicious, just as described above, white bread with lots of mayo, finely chopped pickles, mebbe a bit of finely chopped celery, dash of French's 'mustard', definitely an immense amount of black pepper (very important). We watched the game and ate the sandwiches, probably a hot dog or two as well. But on the drive back home, first one of us, then another, began to feel queasy. "Pull over quick!" Uh oh, uh oh, too late: an explosion of regurgitated tuna fish all over my friend's mother's Ford Mustang (at the time, about the coolest car in existence). And so the journey continued in starts and stutters, a few miles further, quick, pull over, time for someone else to um er...This was the most gut wrenching, writhing, uncontrollably painful nausea I've ever experienced. I honestly believe we all thought we were going to die: in fact, it would have been a relief to do so, it was almost that bad! This must have been full blown botulism poisoning from a contaminated can. It was truly horrible and I'll never forget it! That Mustang was totally trashed by the time we got back and we had to explain to our parents, and later the school, where we'd been. Believe me, it was a long time before I enjoyed a tuna sandwich again (though I'll quite happily eat one now, though more out of nostalgia then choice).
May I also state, while we're on the subject, categorically and unconditionally, that hot tuna is one of the most disgusting foods on earth. I can think of nothing worse, nothing more likely to bring me instantly to the point of nausea, then the mere smell of canned tuna fish, heated up on an open sandwich - the combination of hot tuna and melted cheese is utterly horrendous and inedible - or, even worse, canned tuna in a pasta sauce...
Now fresh tuna - especially thon rouge from the French Basque country - is one of the greatest foods on earth, simply grilled like a steak over charcoal and served still rare and bloody in the middle...
And a real salade niçoise, made not with canned but with fresh tuna...certainly one of the great summer foods of the world.
But hot canned tuna? Forget it. I'd rather try tuna and peanut butter...Um er, on second thoughts, come to think of it, maybe not.
MP
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Sounds like a brilliant trip, Pedalaforte. Would love to hear about the cycling, too, as well as the food and wine. It's my passion too (along with food and wine of course!). What else is there in life? Well, quite a lot actually. But cycling, food and wine are mighty important in my book.
Cheers,
MP
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a necessary cleansing touch
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
OK OK, who am I trying to kid? Who needs * clean * here? Not we diehard eGulletteer gluttons. In fact, if f I'm totally honest (as we really ought to be) I'd be quite happy glugging the caramelised butter and sugar juices neat, and to hell with the pastry and the apples. Simplifies the whole process, too, and cuts down on the washing up...
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Well dammit this thread has had me drooling and so I had a go at this weekend, too.
Made my tarte tain with Braeburn apples, unsalted butter bought off the slab (from local cheese dairy), Billington's caster sugar, and juice and zest of an unwaxed organic lemon (the lemon adds a necessary cleansing touch to the richness of butter, sugar and gooey appley juices).
I too used bought puff pastry, but it was absolutely brilliant and I must recommend it: organic pure butter puff pastry from the Dorset Pastry company. It comes frozen and pre-rolled and so may not be for purists. But believe me, it is, yes, quite sensational. Not as good as *good* homemade puff pastry of course, but a damn sight better than *mediocre* homemade pastry or quick rough puff pastry. Ingredients are simply organic flour, organic butter, organic eggs, sea salt, water, nothing else, no preservatives, no additives, no nothing. Made by Moira Blake and her team somewhere in Dorset, the pastry is hand folded and rested in the traditional way. The result is really sensational.
Puff pastry - even homemade - for a tatin can come out rather leathery, can't it? This wasn't. The deeply caramelised apples (I prefer to keep them in halves) rested on a durable base, bathed in buttery caramelised sauce, that was still flaky and delicious in its own right. (I baked for 15 minutes at 190C, then reduced heat for a further 20 minutes at 150.)
We enjoyed the tarte tatin last evening at half-time during the England-France match, at that moment feeling very good and optimistic about the world in general. We had another slice after the match in the aftermath of that extraordinary plucking of defeat from the jaws of victory: it was so damn good that it did offer some consolation! Finished the rest for breakfast this morning...
Marc
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Wine tasting organised by Andy Tarry of execellars in conjunction with Liberty Wines with winemaker Kim Crawford of New Zealand presenting his wines at The Turf Hotel, Exminster.
Turf is a unique venue, an old inn situated at the mouth of the Exeter ship canal (England's first canal) on the Exe river and inaccessible by car - we all piled into boats from Topsham for the short passage across the river.
We began with a first tasting of Kim’s Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc 2004, bottled only last week Thursday, said Kim. Pale in colour, intensely aromatic with a pungent, herbaceous character that was by no means over-powering, and a zesty, citrus finish that was razor sharp. This is a beautifully expressive example of Kiwi Sauvignon.
The Marlborough Dry Riesling 2003 has an impressively exotic and ripe nose, with hints of ginger and honey. In the mouth, it’s a big, powerful wine, the acidity softened and tempered by a year’s ageing; though there is a touch of residual sugar to round it off, the dry finish makes this a wine equally good as an aperitif as with food.
Pinot Gris is not a grape usually associated with New Zealand, but Kim Crawford’s Marlborough Boyszone Vineyard Pinot Gris 2003 is an intriguing example. Part of the wine was fermented in used American oak and there is a proportion of Chardonnay added to the final blend. The result is a full and powerful wine that combines the intense aromatic character of apricots and lychees in a richly deep and full palate with just a touch of residual sweetness that comes through at the finish.
The whimsically named Pansy Rosé 2003 is a deliciously appealing wine, made from Merlot and Cabernet Franc grapes, the colour bled from a portion of the grapes left on the skin after just a day’s crushing. Rather full in colour for a rosé, with berry fruit aromas, this is a gorgeously glugable wine, full juicy fruit and with enough body to stand up to a range of foods.
Finally we tasted two Pinot Noirs. The first was Kim’s ‘straight’ Marlborough Pinot Noir 2003, medium weight in body with an attractive Pinot nose of wild berries and cherries; juicy and soft on the palate, with clean and moderately persistent finish. The Anderson Vineyard Pinot Noir 2002 is in another class. Aged in both new and old French oak, it has a deeper colour and an intense nose that combines primary fruity aromas, notably raspberries, with soft new oak and the deeper, vegetal Pinot tones that come with bottle age. On the palate, the wine displays a rich and almost voluptuously silky character with a fine balance of fruit, oak and grippy tannins. A truly wonderful wine!
All Kim Crawford wines, including the reds, incidentally, are now sealed with screw-top Stelvin closure. According to Kim, this ensures that cork taint is eliminated, oxidation is minimised and he can be sure that the wines will reach the consumer in the way that he himself intends them to be. Personally I don't have a problem with this at all. In fact, I've come to really enjoy reaching into the fridge (or the 'cellar') for a bottle of something I know is good and just twisting off the cap to open it. I'm sure more and more wines will be closed in this fashion in coming years, and I welcome it (a far preferable alternative to the dreaded plastic cork).
(There's a fuller report of the evening here.)
Cheers,
Marc
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It seems to be quite a casual style of dining.
Thanks for this link, Moby. It seems quite an enticing and appetising approach and with the freshest shellfish and fish literally on the Dartmouth doorstep it's hard to see how they can go too far wrong. We'll try and get around for lunch over the weekend. My son is in the midst of GCSE exams and, as he keeps reminding us, he needs treats...So do we, come to think of it.
Marc
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I now understand that the Carved Angel is no more: it has apparently been renamed the New Angel, completely redecorated, and the carved angel itself - the magnficent ship's figurehead that was a longstanding symbol of this magnificent and legendary restaurant - sits at this moment forlornly in an auction house, waiting to be sold to the highest bidder. First reports (from impeccable sources) of the the New Angel do not warrant rave reviews, though it is of course early days. However, I'm certainly willing to give it a chance: we'll try and nip around the coast - as soon as time and weather permits - to visit for lunch. I do hope that something good can emerge here on the formidable and solid foundations laid by Burton Race's illustrious predecessors. The Carved Angel was more than a restaurant: it was a much loved institution.
MP
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I love the Priorato, both the wines and this remote historic wine enclave. I haven't been to the area in more than a decade, when we were researching 'The Wine Roads of Spain' but I loved the place and have fond memories.
The obvious starting place for a wine tour is Scala Dei, with its ruined Cartoixa, the symbol, a stairway to heaven. The cellars of the Scala Dei winery are (or were) extremely welcoming and a fascinating range of wines is, I hope, still produced, traditional immense heavyweight Priorato as well as lighter and more modern wines (light means 14.5 degrees here!), including wines made with blends of Garnacha and Cab S. The Hostal Els Troncs was next to the winery and served basic but good food. I recall the house wine, served in the porrón was thick as ink and if you were less than accurate in raising the porrón arm's length from your mouth, the wine squirted out in a shirt-staining black stream.
Another small interesting producer I met was Rafael Barril, a lawyer from Madrid, who was at the time making a fascinating array of artisan-produced wines, both the Masía Barril Clásico Priorato (16.5 degrees!) as well as a lighter Masía Barril Extra (14 degrees), a traditional Añejo vino rancio aged in wood for upwards of a decade, even a vino aromatizado produced by macerating Priorato wine with extracts from herbs grown on the estate (something the monks at Scala Dei would also have done). At the time I visited, Rafael planned one day to have a centro turistico on the estate, complete with botanical herb garden, so I hope the dream of this passionate visionary is now reality. I'd certainly love to return to find out.
A decade ago, the Gratallops cooperative winery was the most important in the Priorato zone.
I'd love to know more fully what's happened here in recent years, whether there has been investment and modernisation, and what styles of wine have subsequently emerged.
Marc
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Just to say a HUGE thanks for such a thorough, well-written, well-photographed, informative and inspirational piece about one of my favourite foods on earth, tofu. I can never understand how people don't LOVE tofu (yes, there are some who don't) but I bet if they read this piece they will be converted.
Well done and thanks again.
Marc
All About Pasta
in Italy: Cooking & Baking
Posted
I'm probably just plebian in my tastes, but I have never gotten on too well with some of the artisan paste that I've tried: Martelli, Latini, Rustichella d'Abruzzo to name but a few. True, the artisan pasta, made by slower extrusion, has a rougher texture that holds a sugo well. But I too find the texture often goes rather gummy and starchy, even when still al dente or molto al dente. Clearly it's a matter of taste. And for my taste, I still love, yes, I admit it, I love industrial dried pasta, Barilla numero uno, Da Cecco numero due.
Some of the best artisan pasta we've enjoyed are handmade paste from Apulia such as orecchiete (industrial attempts at this delightful shape are horrendous, not least because being machine made and thus evenly shaped, the pasta stacks together when cooking and sticks into a mass of horrible stodge).
MP