Pontormo

Sure. I'm not saying it's authentic but it's my recipe. .... ← Gastro's recipe looks delicious. Just wanted to share the following: Instead of putting aside the egg whites and then thinning the rich, thick sauce with water, I'd recommend beating 3 eggs (or number matching the number of mouths expected at the table, minus 1) plus 1 additional yolk to enrich the sauce. I'd also be less generous with the pecorino so the sauce is created primarily by the egg. Just a couple of tablespoons, letting people dust the penne (spaghetti, whatever) in their heated bowls* with grated Romano & Parmesan (or whatever is available) at the table. *Here's where the pasta water can be put to use. Warm each bowl by draining the pasta over individual bowls if you have the space in your kitchen. (The quote above is from: The Cooking and Cuisine of Lazio.) I confess that I haven't caught all of your blog, but I truly enjoy what I've read. Thank you! One of my favorite things to see is documentation of shopping trips. I am beginning to enjoy supermarkets as much as outdoor markets because of unfamiliar ingredients. The dehydrated vegetables you pointed out intrigued me--I think you mentioned zucchini, but I wasn't sure. Dehydrated fruits are much more popular here in the US--unless you count tomatoes and chile peppers since they're used as vegetables. What uses do the dried vegetables have? Also, a friend raved about visiting one particularly good restaurant in Korea where the floors were heated. You've mentioned how difficult it is to get used to dining on low tables, but I've missed any references to heated floors. Are they a very rare feature, then?

OH, please pick some up during your next trip and report back. I think the zest would provide the distinctive flavor in the tea, but I'm sure you'd be able to hunt down a good Italian recipe for the rest of the fruit...or borrow a friend's ice cream maker...

I have an Italian tea towel with "limone berg..." and in the print the fruits look indeed like lemons. ETA: However, a quick online check (only) indicates that "Citrus aurantium subspecies bergamia" is also known as bergamot oranges...commercially grown largely in S. Italy.

Thanks for the suggestions. I'll consider all options. The clams look absolutely great, but when you still have a big ol jar of fregole in the cupboard....

Earlier in the week I came across a remaindered copy of the book and just jotted down a few things about the recipe since Kevin had already sent a PM with instructions. I used tons of scallions in the polpette and decided to mix in a little of the lemongrass. I used the zest of a Meyer lemon along with juice from a small blood orange and half a Cara-Cara in the sauce which I decided to treat just as a dipping sauce without reducing it. It proved okay, just kind of boring, so I reduced the leftover gingery citrus mixture with the meatballs I didn't eat and incorporated these into a simple ummm Venetian-Marchigiano-Thai wedding soup with rice and additional lemongrass in the broth. I removed the polpette when warm, and mixed a little beaten egg with a little broth before stirring this into the pot. Returned polpette, sprinkled with scallion. The results were perfect for a light, simple meal in chilly weather.I haven't a clue about the ginger, but I wonder if lemongrass is simply more available to della Croce's targeted reader than bergamot lemons since the fragrance is somewhat similar to Earl Grey tea. Either that or citron.

Ummm. All sounds really good. Thanks for warning about the poorly adjusted quantities of rice in the soup recipe. While on a shopping trip to Trader Joe's I decided to test out a friend's recommendation of the frozen fish and picked up some cod even though I've only had one (bad) experience with frozen fish in recent years. I figure shrink-wrapping and freezing fish is today's answer to salting, so when I discovered there was no recipe in Trabocchi's book for cod fillets, but an interesting one called Stocco all'Anconetana, I thought I might use it. The plan is somewhat ironic since the chef romanticizes pungent salt cod in contrast to the kind of item I just picked up for the first time. The thing is, the recipe calls for a long period of poaching the fish in milk after its days of soaking. Essentially one makes a layered casserole of onions, tomato and potato and fish w garlic, rosemary and anchovies, then cover it w a blend of white wine and milk and bake it for 3 1/2 hours. I've done something similar with fresh summer tomatoes as a vegetable side dish before and the long oven-stewing/braising leads to amazing results. Do you think it's worth making this recipe, but, say, burying the thawed cod in the layers for the last--what ____ minutes---without drying out the fish? The long-developing flavors wouldn't permeate the fillets the way they would were the salted cod used. Otherwise, there's a recipe for branzino that could be adjusted for thick, firm fillets since it's the sauce that makes the dish. There's also a great one for monkfish, but as long as I could justify buying the latter*, I'd rather wait and use fresh fish instead. *At a bookstore Monday, I noticed a new book addressing the world's dwindling supply of fish. The Atlantic cod was one of the fish named and I think monkfish was another singled out as one of the species whose numbers are sharply decreasing due to popularity among human consumers.

Nine days old?I've had snert, but never pease pudding. Is it made with the same stuff that you use for mushy peas that come with fish and chips, or something else entirely?

Bump! Here it is! Now you can post all your lovely bowls of soups and other midday meals.

Judith: Dave the Cook started a thread recently on the arrival of Mexico's asparagus crops. Little Ms. Foodie's recent edit provides the link. A counterpart to the breakfast and dinner threads was not in the cooking forum, probably because many eG members reported what they ate out or microwaved in their office's kitchen at lunchtime. Does anyone know where that old thread is now? * * * BTW: Ann, beautiful little clay bowl in your photograph of French Dip.

This weekend on the radio program for The Splendid Table, Lynne Rosetto Kasper repeated a broadcast I have never heard. She spends the entire hour in Emilia-Romagna and includes a nostalgic section of the piece to tigelle. Since the show is archived, you should be able to listen at your leisure.

Elie: As we've seen in comments from others in eGullet, authenticity and the status quo take you only so far in the world of celebrity chefs and award-winning restaurants. I don't know if vincisgrassi is served in his hotel restaurant where you see that FT is "an Italian" as opposed to someone loyal to Marchigiano cooking, drawing from lots of other regions for his menu. He has to be a practical businessman and perhaps that makes him decide home cooks are not going to be any more adventurous. This weekend I stumbled upon a little information about the contribution of Italians to the restaurant business in the United States in the 20th century, and in turn, the "better restaurants" in major Italian cities where so-called continental cuisine was served instead of "authentic" local dishes. I wonder how Italian restaurants have been compensating for what they assume tourists would want to eat. I was going to offer to send you Anna Del Conte's recipe since she cites Antonio Nebbia's Il Cuoco Marceratese (1784), however, her source is Franco Taruschio, a chef in Wales. Thus, the dish is filled with prosciutto and porcini. She does recommend a different type of pasta, though, saying it ought to be made with either Vinsanto or dry Marsala, substituting 3 T of the wine for 1 egg. Her pasta is made with 500 gr 00 flour, 2 eggs & 4 egg yolks plus salt. Ada Boni ignores the dish in a brief chapter combining Umbria and Le Marche. However, Ludja's link includes sweetbreads and a mixture of brain and spine marrow . I'm sure there's more where that came from online. (That pasta recipe you single out is what got Trabocchi in trouble with one critic, though we've seen Swiss Chef--or somebody demonstrate something related in Piemonte, no?) ETA: Complete revision after consulting at-home sources.

So, what's your recipe for hummous? Is it hummous or hummous bi tahini?And what is Tarator? doc ← I don't roast lamb heads, but I think I might be able to answer this correctly:1) Look at photographs. ChefCrash was most likely referring to chickpeas since the larger amount of round, dried peas are mixed in with the dried fava beans. 2) Use google and you're bound to find recipes. It's a thinned tahini sauce, delicious, made by vigorously beating a combination of cold water and lemon juice with the tahini paste and adding salt and garlic to taste.

Sometimes when I'm lazy (which is often) I freeze whatever is left of the can scooped out into and wrapped up really tight in plastic wrap to avoid freezer burn then put that in another, thicker plastic bag wrapped tight. ← ...or if you're not neurotic about freezer burn, take a wide, squat plastic container and dot the perimeter with T-size scoops of the tomato paste before putting a lid on it and popping it into the freezer. Neurotics can always go back into the freezer once all has frozen and either do the plastic wrap thing on each blob of paste or cover all of them with a single piece of wrap before resealing the container.

H, since you live in Manhattan: Italian ricer with interchangeable bottoms, natch. Target has wide range of ricers, including one for around 40 bucks that sounds promising since it is also called a spaetzle press. I'm not providing a link since image does not include shot of the holes.

I hadn't even thought of the size of holes on ricers--just sturdiness! Lesson learned. Take it back. Something new to search for when you go back to Umbria. Meanwhile, I am sure Franci has the right utensil to give us a demo should passetelli be to her liking. The recipes that Trabocchi & Ada Boni supply for Le Marche include meat, especially marrow, in the extrusions. Here's a recipe I came across from Trabocchi's book that is available on line. It is one example of an Italian chef in the United States inventing something new in the spirit of his own region's cooking--and using a rather dramatic, original technique that probably enhanced his reputation at the James Beard Foundation as well as prospects for doing Iron Chef. P.S. Sometimes short is sweet. How did the gnocchettini come out?

Just a quick note of confirmation. You guys, you HAVE to try this! The kid is right! I had thawed just enough brodo for risotto and decided to make this after looking at the menu from Fabio Trabocchi's restaurant, Maestro, when I linked it to the new thread for Le Marche. Trabocchi uses Pink Lady apples, and so did I. Elie commented on how well pork goes with apples, but since my less frequent appearances here are due to all the miso soup and raw carrots I'm eating instead of multiple courses, I just went with the primo (with seconds intended for lunch) and a big salad. So, here's the recipe. In this case, Mario's advice for pans is good--I saw Trabocchi use a wide pan for risotto, too(though he was using partially cooked grains in a demo), and found it was kinder on all ingredients involved instead of using a narrow pot with high sides. Butter and apples go together. Apples and onions.* Apples and cheese. They're all there, folks. Kevin, I bought extra lemongrass this week to make the polpette, too. *What's with Mario Batali and red onions? Are they really more Tuscan or Emilia-Romagnan? Elie, I love the cropping of this photograph since the signature orange Crocs on the book jacket match the rim of your plates.

Some of the more recent posts, especially Adam's, remind me of so many earlier exchanges we've had including this. The desire to assimilate is not universally shared by Italians in the United States, but there are definite historical patterns to take into account, including the fact that Italian identity was tied negatively to class in the 19th century, especially, but also throughout the 20th century. Culinary traditions are left behind not only because you can't find zucchini or the zucchini isn't as flavorful (sigh ) when it becomes widely available. I now live in a city where ATM machines include Italian as an option for patrons to read and it is common to hear conversations in Italian while riding the Metro. The latter has a kind of caché nowadays that didn't always exist. The process of assimilation is one reason why someone of Italian descent feels she has to go back to Italy, to a part of the country where chirping, priggish Brits don't let down their hair after visiting monuments listed in their Baedekers, far from the place Diane Lane buys a house where she can kiss a yummy native hunk. I believe Kim Severson was looking for something authentic when she began her quest for her family's spaghetti sauce. One of the major points of the article in the NYTs was that the thing that she was searching for just wasn't there. As for the call for preserving "authentic" Italian regional dishes in light of the ever-changing nature of history? Preserving, documenting and searching for different signs of the past--often inspired by ever-changing notions of history--is something historians both value and do. Signs of historical change usually alert you to the fact that there was something earlier that has altered and it might be a good idea to discover what exactly it was in order to figure out why and what caused either its modification or obliteration. Now that food culture and culinary history enjoy increasing interest, more and more information is becoming available. Kim Serverson's aging aunt in Abruzzo serves as a living source of both family history and culinary history. I think that rusty ladle in the banner to the article, photographed by someone with an Italian name, is, in fact, the zia's just as the caption indicates. It would be interesting for readers of the NYTs who know little about Abruzzo to read the journalist's best attempt at a recipe for what her aunt does when making tomato sauce. (A tomato sauce. Not the only one she ever makes.) Speculation, only, but I think "authenticity" might have been as much a factor behind the revised edition of Paula Wolfert's book on the cuisine of Southwest France as it was among the countless people responsible for making ingredients and tools accessible to home cooks in the English-speaking world that were omitted in the original edition. The regional cooking of Italy deserves scrutiny as well, even dishes that never influence menus of what professional critics deem the best of the world's restaurants. N.B. BBCode prevents use of brackets for the reference to Sardinian cuisine in the first citation here. Editing required to fix code.

Elie: I'm curious about the fact that when falafel gained more wide-spread appeal among those of us without Middle-Eastern roots, the vegetarian cookbooks that helped popularize it always list chickpeas/garbanzo beans without ever referring to fava beans. At least, that's what I recall. Yet I see your recipe actually has a 3:1 ratio of dried fava beans to dried chickpeas. Would you--or anyone else--happen to know if falalfel recipes differ largely due to regional origins? Were fava beans excluded from vegetarian recipes in American cookbooks of the 70s and 80s simply because they were not as widely available as chickpeas, or...? * * * I think I've seen falafel recipes calling for chickpea flour which I have in the freezer for other uses. Since I like the coarser texture of ground soaked beans, I've never tried using the flour instead. * * * Milagai: As I said above, you can use a heavy cast iron skillet instead of a deep fryer, heating it before you begin cooking. Woks also work, though your batches would have to be smaller; it's too time-consuming for feeding a crowd but perfect if you want to keep the mixture in the fridge for a week and fry a few up when the spirit moves. Falafel turns out best when you are generous with the cooking oil, letting it form at least a thin layer that rises a bit up the sides of the pan for the sake of a crust. I use the oven to reheat patties that were cooked earlier in the week.

Funny, the reviewer and I ended up talking about the same thing, but interpreted it differently. I got the impression that Pollan just wanted to make Mackey feel at ease, and therefore reveal more of himself than he would have had he encountered hostility on stage as well as in the audience. Call the promotional material more of the "Supermarket Pastoral" that Pollan writes about in OD, if you like, evidence that the characterization was just supported by the man who took issue with it.

When you do get a chance to see the webcast, be patient. John Mackey gets to speak first since, as he put it, Michael Pollan's book takes around 18 hours to listen to in full, and he was able to negotiate only for 45 minutes to speak to the Berkeley audience before his exchange with his host. He actually takes longer. Some of the rudimentary history of what he views as four ages of food acquisition seemed simplistic and superfluous--kind of a time-filler--at first. Yet I appreciated what everything in that presentation communicated about the CEO and what he views as a genuine personal and corporate mission. This is a quality of WFM that turns off some people, but it reminds me of what others find equally admirable or annoying--depending on your point of view--in Pollan's journalism. Mackey came across as a very likeable, self-deprecating guy and quite a few of his remarks won applause from the audience and appreciative laughter from Pollan. What I really wanted to say, though, is that I enjoyed watching the way Pollan conducted the interview/conversation. He set up the event in Berkeley by flying down to Austin first to meet with John Mackey in response to an invitation from the CEO. They spoke for over an hour and a half. I gather that meeting made the public event at Berkeley less of a confrontational debate than it could have been otherwise. At one point the subject of "Whole Paycheck" came up and as Mackey responded to that characterization of his company, he and Pollan found themselves in agreement on some fundamental issues. After all, Michael Pollan writes that he doesn't think that Americans, on average, spend enough on food when compared to others in the world, or Americans 30-40 years ago. That consensus made Mackey open up more, especially when his host thanked him for helping our country get used to the idea that we should shell out more bucks for the meals we COOK. So the CEO began to say, "And we all know that Americans are getting richer..." only to be interrupted by a lot of hisses and boos from an audience whose political leanings, one might assume, are at odds with the libertarian guest on stage. He looked out at the audience, a bit uncomfortably, acknowledging the tension. At this point, Pollan and Mackey were sitting across from one another. For all we know, the professor might make time in his schedule later on this month to attend a lecture at the law school where someone is speaking about the disappearing middle class. However, he continued to look at Mackey in the same attentive fashion. Even nodded encouragingly, without registering judgment, inviting Mackey to continue. It was more important for Pollan to hear where that observation was leading than to dismiss his guest's contention in a clever little remark. For that reason, Mackay restated his position, the audience calmed down, deciding it was important to listen, too, and the conversation went on. This struck me as a useful strategy and not just a sign of Pollan's humanity. It made him a good host as well as a good journalist. This kind of interaction is something many of us can keep in mind when we think about and talk to each other about culinary matters.

Russ, you need no apologia. You also make an important point that is developed much more dryly but in fascinating detail by Carole M. Counihan in Around the Tuscan Table. Food, Family, and Gender in Twentieth-Century Florence. The anthropologist was formerly married to an Italian and conducted extensive interviews with all her living in-laws. The eldest complain bitterly not so much about the scarcity of their early lives, but of the fact that Florentines eat way too much of increasingly inferior food...or at least that's what I recall as the gist of it. The expression "poco ma buono" recurs in their remarks--"little but good"--to describe their preferences and what they recalled fondly when they did have something to eat. I will never forgot the widow of one of Mussolini's generals--unwittingly my landlady in Florence--speak of the period when her husband was a prisoner of war and she had "only one egg, ONLY ONE EGG!," she stressed, pointing her finger in my face, with which to feed her family.

JohnnyD, you may be interested to know that Michael Pollan also intends to speak on the Farm Act: on March 21 at Berkeley. Did no one watch? One thing Pollan asked was if Mackey really felt Omnivore's Dilemma affected profits at Whole Foods. (Since I only caught bits and pieces of the event, I did not hear the rueful comment that motivated the question.) Prodded, Mackey did seem serious despite the way he answered: "Cost [Whole Foods] around two billion...Easy come, easy go."

Given the designation of DOP, Casciotta D’Urbino is made primarily, but not exclusively from ewe's milk: 70-80 percent, the remainder from cows. On the other hand, Cacio La Forma di Limone is produced exclusively from sheep's milk, though the lemon shape of the small cheeses hints at the presence of zest in the rind. A few of Le Marche's cheeses are defined by method of production more than by the interchangeable source of milk. Ambra di Talamello sometimes is made with sheep's milk and aged underground. * * * Great introduction, Judith. I had no idea Jesu was here in Le Marche and thus holds such fond memories for you. Lovely introduction since you illustrate the range from herbs to fish to quadruped beasts. I still find myself somewhat affected when looking at the gaping mouths of sharp-toothed fish poking up from pots, imagining pale tongues swollen from steam. Fabrio Trabocchi's introductory remarks are a bit sentimental, though the emotion is genuine. The chef may express himself better through his culinary skills, but he wants you to know how much his birthplace means to him and how much it shaped him even if it is little known by others. Even though his collaborator, Peter Kaminsky, is an excellent food writer, I get the impression that there was much more interest in getting to the recipes than in providing a detailed account either of the place or his personal experience of it. It is certainly not in the vein of Lidia Bastianich's more colorful exploration of her geographical/culinary heritage, nor modelled on Matt Kramer's well-researched survey of Piemonte. I also found what Elie mentions interesting: the fact that the four regions share in a taste for fish and seafood as well as game, etc., instead of being sharply diverse. In many respects the book confirms what Kevin said about Umbrian affinities, especially when it comes to porchetta, rabbit and truffles. There is mention, too, of Ancient Greece, North Africa and other "cosmopolitan influences" though I wish the remarks were developed. There might be specific information in the paragraphs introducing recipes since some compare a dish from Le Marche to other ones from other regions of Italy. For example, Urbino's passatelli, Trabocchi notes, are made in the same fashion of Emilia-Romagna, but with meat and not just egg, cheese, breadcrumbs and seasonings. Family history plays a role in a very brief mention of Le Marche's agricultural past. He attributes his interest in food to the fact that the Trabocchi had all farmed in a regional tradition known as mazzadria which is compared to sharecropping, though it sounds to me like a continuation of the feudal system. What he recalls fondly is the communal spirit of the old way of life that was lost during his childhood. One recipe that caught my eye is for pasta cooked by absorption of broth, like risotto. Here's a description of the method on Chocolate & Zucchini if for an inventive recipe. And here's Fabio Trabocchi's restaurant in case you want to compare his region's dishes to what he serves well-heeled Americans: Maestro. N.B. The link may default to hotel's web site. You'll find "Dining" on the left, with "Maestro" offered as sub-category to click.

I wonder what Martha Stewart ate when she was in prison...

Elie, you really should have chosen the name "Doughman" as your moniker here since you have such a way with anything made with flour or grains. I love the chalkboard and the fact that you made this particular ragu! Kevin's lobster and your duck... And as we turn to Le Marche, I would like to remind us all that we ate a lot of our meals Venetian style this month, that is, with forks!