Pontormo

Wasn't there just an article on this very topic somewhere?

Probably because of the availability of fresh Italian pasta, or because some of us make it ourselves. However, I've noticed that stores that only used to carry De Cecco's dried flour & water based-pastas are now carrying dried nests of egg pastas, too. Maybe PDEN's will have a comeback. Meanwhile, here's something Armenian that a friend used to make all the time: Yogurt Soup 3 c yogurt 2 c water 1 t salt 1 egg beaten Mix together in a saucepan for 3 minutes with heat on high, stirring constantly, until boiling. Add 1 c egg noodles and cook until tender Sauté 1 small chopped onion in 2 T butter until clear and soft. (Garlic's okay too.) Add 1 to 1/2 t crumbed dried mint to onions. Mix and add to yogurt mixture. Cook all together for an additional 10 mins. Serve. N.B. Thickens dramatically in fridge, so if there are leftovers, lots of water may be required with adjustments to seasonings made. I like adding spinach, according to notes, cooked separately and added to individual bowls.

Thought I said I used a digital thermometer, Pounce, maybe not. I've read the thread thoroughly, so temperature wasn't the problem. * * * Change this time: I used whole milk and since I had the powdered milk, I added 3/4 of a cup to a little over 6 cups of milk. My starter was my own last batch of yogurt (2 %), but thickened by draining. My oh my! Wonderful. Sour. Rich. Left in oven (up to 129 F is okay; mine ranges between 110-120) for more than 12 hours. Beaten, then mixed with fresh cranberry sauce, it's about as good as can be. I'll use less powdered milk next time and also try it without.

What intrigues me about this description is that the monks see an element of divinity--at least in a metaphorical sense--in their food. Food incites passion, a fervor that can intermingle with religion. ← As for this citation, you gotta wonder how much those monks were just being good marketers and using the kind of analogy they expect the public wants to hear from them. It's a clever way, indeed, to describe antithetical, but otherwise complementary qualities of an unpleasantly odorific ripe cheese that tastes delicious. Christians aren't the only ones who isolate feet as the body part that signals divine presence on earth, though it's usually in the form of an imprint. Krishna and Buddha left footprints, too, that are preserved in the form of cult objects we Westerners display as cultural artifacts or art in museums. The intersection of holy feet and food, however, is a curious one. The closest thing I know is a sign of the skepticism the cult of the saints aroused among the reform-minded in late medieval Italy. Fra Salimbene of Parma denounced the rapid devotion heaped upon the corpse of what he considered just an ordinary local guy whose toe was ceremoniously processed through the town and up to the altar with much Latin intoned, incense, etc. The scoundrels behind the promotion of the cult were exposed when it was discovered that the relic was a forgery. Turns out it was merely a clove of garlic.

Interesting Freudian slip, Susan! If once in a blue moon you decide to use this book might I suggest the following: -Chili-orange oil This is the only infusion I bothered to make; takes a while, like ragu & stock, and just as worthwhile if you're going to try any of the recipes from China Moon. Last bottle got used regularly one hot summer, oh maybe 2-3 years ago. Not sure. It's been sitting in the back of the refrigerator since then despite its reported versatility. -Stir-fried orange beef with chilis and wild mushrooms As with every dish (five?) I've prepared from this book, I made lots of substitutions for ingredients I didn't have, buy or like. I modified amounts and noted that the red peppers and red onion were the best of the tons of vegetables required to counter-act a tendency towards soupy results that one achieves with many of the recipes unless your stove has professional-level heat or far-reaching flames that will flare over the broad flat surface of the pan you use instead of a round wok. Made with flank steak, this is a delicious dish nonetheless. -Stir-fried pork ribbons with asparagus, orange and hot bean paste My favorite. The only recipe I've made over and over again, with many, many omissions, adding red peppers, though. -Chili-orange cold noodles The reason I made the infused oil in the first place. I've made variations with rice noodles and slivered Chinese BBQed pork. As is the case with so many cold Asian noodle dishes, I ate it so many times that I can never again. Thus, the bottle of untouched chili-orange oil in my fridge. * * * We're told recipes are merely guidelines, so you're supposed to not feel inhibited by meticulous, wordy instructions or long lists of ingredients divided into sections for different components of the dish. However, it's hard not to feel that there's a wide divide between the author's approach to food and your own when recipes appear more daunting than fun. Cf. what Russ Parsons says about Madison's Greens vs. VegC4E. This is Tropp's restaurant book, too.

As far as I'm concerned, McCormick can go to Hell. I mean that in the most respectful way, of course. However, this kind of Fashionspeak when it comes to food is both annoying and bogus. Still waiting for guys to start wearing pointy-toed mules with stiletto heels. By that, I mean guys dressed as guys in business suits on their way to the meeting to talk about the next thing they're going to get the general public to believe in order to sell them their same, old usual product as if it were something spanking new...

Yes, thank you. I admire what you and your husband are doing. What a great way to be in the world.

Nishla, thank you for this report. Fascinating. I love the pictures from the markets, especially: fruits AND creatures from the sea.

Just came across the following recipe from Anna Del Conte in conjunction with the Italian forum's cooking thread on the region of Trentino Alto Adige. I am paraphrasing (and abbreviating) text for the sake of including the information here: Stinco di Maiale alla Tirolese 4-6 servings 2 fresh ham hocks (should weigh around 1 1/2 # each) S & P 2 T EVOO 1 celery stalk 1/2 chopped onion 1 sm carrot 1 clove garlic 5 sage leaves (fresh) 1 rosemary sprig's leaves 2/3 c dry white wine 3 T Grappa 2 juniper berries 2/3 c stock [italian is combo beef & chicken, so use either] Oven 400 F* Chop celery, onion, carrot, garlic, sage and rosemary very finely, together. Burn hairs off rind of hocks (which you took out of fridge 2 hours ago). Wash and dry them. Season all over. Brown hocks all over in olive oil in enameled Dutch oven (or something that can go in oven, too), then remove and reserve. Now throw the herb & veg mixture into pan with 1/2 t salt and saute low for 5 mins. Return hocks to pan, placing them on top, and turn up heat. Pour wine and Grappa in, over meat, and let boil rapidly for minute. Turn hocks over once during this process. Throw in juniper berries after this and add 1/3 c of the stock. Cover with lid and place in oven for 1 1/2 hours*, turning meat over a couple of times and adding stock if it's drying up. It's ready when meat is tender. Remove rind which Del Conte says is good and should be cut into strips and fed to people who like this sort of thing. Cut meat into chunks and spoon cooking juices over and around it. Should you prefer, you might, instead, puree the cooking liquids and put in pan. While they're simmering, little by little, add a beurre manie made with 1 T butter and 2 t flour into the simmering stuff; it may require a bit more stock. I am guessing that someone from this alpine region would serve the hocks with polenta. Don't you just love the name: Stinco? (dee my-AH-lay). The author calls them "pork shins", too, and clearly distinguishes them from trotters. This is from revised edition of Classic Food of Northern Italy. *I would personally try a lower temperature and longer time period. I'd also think about using more stock than required.

Sigh. Tim has a genuine flair for cheeky writing that provokes a lot of passionate commentary from smart people. Speaking as one of those D.C.-based liberals, might I suggest a story on world hunger for the author's next submission? In the pages of feedback, I think we just might be able to stop famine for good.

Lucy: Beautiful series , thank you for sharing. While you seem to be a master of macaroni & cheese yourself, I hope you'll tweak Ling's recipe a bit to make it your own when you submit it in competition. * * * In one of her many novels about courtship between Americans and Parisians and its aftermath, Diane Johnson sets a scene out in the French countryside where the families of the mixed couple meet for the first time. The French go to great trouble, and with pride set upon the table a perfectly roasted, luxuriously priced bird. The American parents are insulted. "Hmmph!" "What's this? We rate only a chicken?" Such is the nature of cultural misunderstanding. I wonder if that dinner would make much sense anymore given the fact that a roasted chicken, lovingly prepared at home, has achieved a cult status among people like you, Dear Reader. Look at the cooking threads. Pork is remains the white meat of choice here, especially when it's red and/or fatty. Foie gras is for status and Rebel Creds. Yet, there is so much on brining, not brining, salting, Judy Rodgers... Since your chicken, Judith, is a work of art, and since I'm all for the Zuni chicken, but eager to try any approach to making an entire chicken taste as wonderful as yours sounds, please, would you share information so we might aspire to such heights?

I have found that most Italians frown upon pedestrians purging their meals in public spaces. I'd recommend eating moderately, instead, then strolling through those wonderful brick-valuted walkways that make Bologna seem so spacious.

...I have a question: what does the paper under the lid do? I used that technique for the first time making octopus over the holidays. I just followed the recipe, but I didn't understand why I was doing it. ← Not Shaya, but it's my understanding that 1) you're creating a stronger seal than you'll achieve with the lid alone; 2) especially with parchment paper vs. a paper bag, you'll find vapor collecting upon the inner surface, gradually building into globs of moisture that become so heavy they're destined to fall back into the braise. This kind of moistening circulation is behind the design of the cast iron lids on Staub whose stubby little stalactites do the same work for you, only for a lot of money. * * * Klary, I see you made Shaya-shaped tortellini. I hope you have a good cut-out form to speed up the process.

One of my culinary resolutions is not to waste space here with unnecessary quotes, so: Pounce: You'll find a description of my method in Post #174 above, most likely on this "page". The only deviations from Elie's recipe are 1) the use of a digital thermometer, 2) relying on my oven for incubation since it maintains the perfect temperature, and 3) finding my town and building far too warm to wear luxuriously thick double-brushed flannel pajamas, instead of a sweater, I use a pair to wrap my glass jars before putting them in the oven; the leg of one half of the pair is particularly convenient. This method results in sufficiently thick, creamy yogurt as long as one isn't expecting the texture to correspond to commercial brands laced with pectin. When I want to use yogurt in the place of sour cream for topping soups or desserts, I need to drain it the same way that you do for making yogurt cheese. Since so much whey seeps out during the process of draining, I figured I might get a thicker yogurt that didn't require as much draining by mixing in powdered milk. I did not. * * * Priscilla: It is a real pleasure to read your writing here, I must say. I remember browsing through some of those health-food books while baby-sitting in the college towns where I grew up. They were a favorite of graduate students and young couples who chose to teach in the inner city to effect social change. Blaugh. Ironically, that genre engendered the second vegetarian cookbook by Anna Thomas which I found crucial in changing the way I cooked and ate--for the better. No recipes with powdered milk, there. I believe an increased use of powdered milk is linked to one facet of those kinds of books: Bread-baking as a form of Simplifying and Improving Life. Of course, bread-baking is also fundamental to some devout groups that stress the importance of home and family. Thus, I could walk across the street to a strange hybrid of Food Co-op and religious store where bulk items were bagged and sold at incredibly low prices. Powdered milk was sold next to all the baking goods, far from the yogurt and milk in the dairy case. In the Pastry & Baking forum, I believe there are a few brief discussions of the benefits of using powdered vs. liquid milk when baking.

Here is the last group of links I gathered yesterday. There are overlaps in recipes and information about the region, but usually one or two things are unique to each site. Also, by the way, I checked the Library of Congress online catalog and there was little in the way of monographs on the region; the few studies date to the early twentieth century. One additional cookbook turned up in a search, but it follows the general pattern that Kevin observed since its focus is not Trentino Alto-Adige. It's Enoteca. Here's Food & Wine. Tango Italia. An Italian Restaurant Consortium. Rustico (recipes vs. step-by-step instructions). Virtual Italia: "Background" for tourists And the same site, on cuisine, with recipes.

Pam: That is beautiful. Thank you. The following link directs you to a poem with shared sensibilities that is about buying peaches at a fruitstand. However, click on the biography of Li-Young Lee to find two other poems, "Eating Together" and "Persimmons". "From Blossoms".

Quick note because it's late: Wendy's cabbage tortelli looked so good that I used about a half a pound of leftover cabbage to try Lynne Rossetto Kasper's version with a filling that includes a baked russet potato, garlic and grated Parmesan. No egg since there's lots of olive oil left from sautéing the cabbage with onion and pancetta until all is deliciously caramelized, then mixed with other piping hot ingredients, a reduction of the sticky bits in the pan made with broth, then seasoned generously with black pepper and more than a pinch of nutmeg. Man, was the filling good! When only a bit more than a teaspoon is packed into tortelli, boiled, and then sauced with more reduced broth, butter and cheese, the results are disappointing. At least, I thought the greatness that was the filling got obscured by the pasta itself. I think tortelloni might be better, you know, with a bit tablespoon or two. Pasta Experiment #4 Cut back to only 1 T EVOO & same on water. Harder to knead. Perfectly fine and easy to work with after resting, but I still prefer double those amounts. Funny since so many recipes just include eggs and flour.

In Trentino Alto-Adige, a young, petulant nun flings out her arms, spins atop a Dolomite, and as violins soar, her voice rises in song: <<Canto ed i colli brulicante di vi-i-i-ta-a-a...>> Oder singen Maria auf Deutsch given ties to Austrian culture? For me, at least, it is hard not to conflate images from "The Sound of Music" (or Tutti insieme appassionatamente as it was known upon release in Italy) with the region given the fact that The Council of Trent is the principal reason I know anything at all about Trentino Alto Adige. Trent, or Trento, is the capital of the Italian-speaking, southernmost region that is now politically united with Alto Adige, or South Tyrol. Its ecclesiastical significance reaches back to the twelfth century, a time when the local bishop ruled his See, though it was the mid-sixteenth century (1546-1563) when Trent became the site where the Roman Catholic Church defended its tenets against the threat posed by Martin Luther and all those other German-speaking rebels. Since this is an era of Italian culinary history that we associate with banquets at courts, you have to wonder how all those stern and angry men soothed their hunger after citing one Latin text after another all day long. Buckwheat polenta? Surely, something better than that. Something with those tempting local apples and butter from all the grazing cows? While Barcelona is famous for its mushroom market, Trento sells more than 250 and up to 300 different specifies, none toxic presumably since they are on sale at a place where people shop for their food. Anna Del Conte therefore includes recipes for Schwammersuppe—a mushroom soup served with a dollop of sour cream; a layered cornmeal polenta stuffed with mushrooms, bechamel and all sorts of cheese; and what sounds even better, Funghi in Umido, a mushroom stew served with polenta. She also publishes recipes for venison and beef and pork, sigh, basta already, stews and an apple budino made with raisins, wine and cinnamon, topped with whipped cream. There's also a sweet buckwheat cake. Fred Plotkin demonstrates even more enthusiasm than Del Conte for a part of Italy that he treats as discrete regions in two separate chapters on Trentino and Alto Adige. He adds praise of the cheeses in Trentino given the cows one sees a lovely young man playfully hugging high in the alps while sticking his hand in one bovine mouth in the new issue of Gourmet. Apparently these herds produce summer cheeses lumped together under the name Malga. Then, there are olives in addition to the grapes that make wine bars as important to the region as its pastry shops filled with strudel and carrot cakes. This is the place to eat crisp potato pancakes with sausages, and with carne salada—raw beef cured with vinegar and spices, sliced very thinly—truly great breads. As for Alto-Adige, commonalities include a reputation for equally wonderful breads, if different types, included seeded ones. Soups are heavy and remind me a bit of some of our other explorations of the cold north: broths thick with barley; rye; chestnuts; cream, lemon and horseradish; sauerkraut or liver-filled dumplings! In contrast to the last item, herrengröstl sounds especially good: a skillet of potatoes and onions topped with thin slices of roast beef, with a vinegary cabbage dish on the side. After a nap and a vigorous walk, apple fritters with gelato and cinnamon. Plotkin details purchases at terrific sausage shops, pastry shops and wine bars. You may also recall Judith's ski trip in this region (right?) last year when we all talked about infused alpine flowers and their intoxicating properties. I can't find the report, so I wonder if I am confusing two different regions with one another, but I did find this old report from a different member: North of Verona. Many of you already know the major web sites, however, I will link a few with little commentary and let you see what you can see. One and a two and a Three! Bread balls, bread balls, bread balls. So you won't gag. Just a little reSpeckt. For Elie and Judith Something new.

So, this time I tried adding between 1/2 and 3/4 of a cup of powdered milk to a batch of yogurt made with 6 cups of 2% milk. It did not produce a yogurt thicker than what I normally make with milk and starter-yogurt. While this thread is not very active these days, if anyone out there advocates the addition of powdered milk to fresh milk, I'd be interested in hearing more.

Since you simmered them for an hour and are holding on to them for several days, you're talking about the beans, right? There are also clams.

Yes, I know that fuyus can be eaten both firm (e.g., as part of a salad) and softened, usually, in desserts, though steaming hadn't occurred to me. Great idea. And Janet, regarding drying the fruit, try to find Kristin's linked thread in the Japanese forum; the link is broken now. There is a labor-intensive process in which persimmons are massaged over a long period of drying to ensure skins gain a supple quality, etc. The results are supposed to be delicious--and expensive.

Hmmm. Since I've just started to eat and cook with persimmons, I wanted to make something without all the nuts, spices and dried fruits that are traditionally incorporated into steamed puddings, cookies and other sweet preparations of persimmons. I have no way to judge the quality of either the Hichiyas I just bought or the Fuyus I ripened until they were soft. Nonetheless, the flavor is not very pronounced. Thus, the flan, which I thought wouldn't overwhelm the fruit. I shared this information with Russ Parsons who said he's had similar "issues". I also passed my adapted recipe on to another eG member who reported back with the same results. In an online search for further information, I found a blogger who posted her persimmon flan--yes, with separated layers. I've got two more Hichiyas at home that are starting to turn into jelly beneath their skins. I was planning on baking a tea cake just for a change. I might try reserving a bit of the fruit to make one more small custard for the sake of advancing scientific knowledge.

QUESTIONS FOR THE SCIENTIFICALLY INCLINED: Why does puréed persimmon separate from the custard when baked into a flan? Would mixing baking soda into the pulp prior to baking a flan: -taste disgusting? -keep the ingredients amalgamated without adversely affecting texture or its ability to set? I've read what McGee says about persimmons, though his focus is primarily on color vis a vis use of baking powder vs. soda in traditional American steamed persimmon puddings. Deborah Madison refers to an enzyme that makes the puréed fruit collapse/ooze when mixed with baking soda. Does anyone here know a bit more?

Given the name you chose to use here, it's most appropriate that you participate in this challenge. I only wish Tammy had asked you to incorporate insects instead of vegetables. Since you bring up tomatoes which are fruit, it's only fair to point out that strawberries are vegetables. Jackal10 has already mentioned beets; I'll note that Martha Stewart's early little book on pies and tarts includes a beautiful tart made with beets. Three others that I don't recall seeing as I skimmed: -zucchini which have been baked into chocolate cakes long before there were blogs -sauerkraut, also found in Eastern European cakes, sometimes with the forementioned potato -eggplants, also combined with chocolate in Naples and Siciliy Note the celery candied with pears in January's Gourmet. The challenge would be to find a vegetable that HASN'T had much of a role sweetened, at the end of a meal.

Judith, this is also my favorite of the recent spate of posts. One of the things I really like about your meals is the simple elegance of your Italian home cooking. Nothing seems fussy or effortful even when we know how much time and work went into it.