Pontormo

Sauce or usage of the word "marinara"? While a quick tomato sauce sounds quite Italian, Anna Del Conte's reference book seems to support the citation that launched this thread even if it is neither the last word nor a direct acknowledgment that some people call tomato sauces "marinara".

For a while in college, I belonged to a rather elaborate dining co-op—or did we call ourselves a collective? I forget. At any rate, we consulted charts to see where we were supposed to eat that night and once every ten days or so, we were in charge of cooking ourselves for a group of five others. One of the worst blizzards ever hit right around a time when there was one deadline after another and it was my turn to cook. I wasn't about to hike a mile or two to the supermarket as the snow was coming down thick. There was a small grocery store close to campus, run by one of the many families from Sicily who fled to this particular spot in New England. There was meat, there were cans of tomatoes, there was spaghetti and there were boxes of frozen broccoli. I was in love with a guy from Brooklyn who made a mean sausage sauce and I thought I knew a thing or two by that point myself. What I hadn't counted on was Michael. Michael had perfect hair and he was from Long Island. A Good Family. He walked into the room, smelled the dried oregano in the air and froze. I don't think he said a word during dinner, but when our paths crossed again on campus, I got to hear about his grandmother rolling out her sheets of dough and real Italian food. It was not about red sauce. It was not about dried or frozen ingredients and it was not about bulbous, fatty sausage. I don't remember what he was wearing while this conversation took place, but I picture him in a beige cashmere sweater and myself in a fuchsia velour pullover, on route to my work-study job. It's been a long time since I've thought about that day. What a reminder. * * * As far as marinara sauce is concerned, there are no references to it in any of the Italian cookbooks I own, although Lidia M Bastianich includes a tomato sauce that she calls Marinara in her Italian-American Kitchen. (She probably knew that word before "tomato;" ditto for Marcella.) It seems to be very much a North American thing, derived largely from Southern Italian food. Since Italians got tomatoes from this part of the world and took centuries to adapt them into sauces for pastas, it only makes sense that as more centuries go by, Italian culinary terms and traditions are freely transformed over here, often by children of an Italian Diaspora who learned how to speak English before they learned how to cook. Call it Hegelian dialectic, reciprocity, symbiosis. Food sometimes alters when it alteration finds. In Gastronomy of Italy, Anna Del Conte provides a brief entry on the word, calling "marinara" a cooking style (sailor's) as opposed to any particular dish. She provides examples, including spaghetti with oil, garlic and chili or rice with seafood. Pizza marinara, according to this Northern Italian who married a Brit, is the original Neapolitan pizza, topped with tomatoes, oregano and garlic and nothing else. What is implied is something you appear to assume yourself: that this became the source for the all-purpose Italian-American sauce, one supposedly cooked for a briefer period of time without adding meat or allowing the tomatoes to dissolve. In The Food of Southern Italy (1987; foreword by Angelo Pellegrini), Carlo Middione writes of marinara without any sort of cultural or historical self-consciousness. A Sicilian himself, he calls marinara one of the mother sauces of Italy. His recipe calls for an entire onion, generous amount of garlic, oregano, basil and tomatoes. Cook for 15 minutes. Add crushed red chili flakes or use it as the base of a fish stew. This publication is an anomoly, as far as I can tell, though my public library has many pre-Hazan/Del Conte cookbooks by authors of Sicilian heritage. I have just started to read a translation of Italian Cuisine. A Culinary History by Alberto Capatti & Massimo Montanari. They refer to mss. dear to you, of course, but gloss over the development of tomato sauces rather quickly in the sections I've scanned so far. No marinara. No sailors. I think the thread that ghostrider quotes is worth reading. Credit is due to Henry Lo for bumping it up and bringing it to our attention.

Oh, I almost forgot Via Tintori, the guys with black t-shirts proclaiming divine preference of wine over water as the beverage of choice for his human creatures. Their arista is excellent and they'll cross the street to their own friggitoria to fetch some really fried zucchini blossoms.

Best? Best???? Great, indeed. Yes! But them's fighting words. Depends upon how much fat you're in the mood for. I am partial to the arrista sold over a small counter in a narrow little place once occupied by the esteemed S. Piero Maggiore where the Abbess Mother housed the newly elected archbishop of Florence overnight and ceremoniously married him the next day to seal his fidelity to the city. More modest even is the Dottoressa Silvia at the Bar degli Amici, down a ways on a long street to the left of Piazza San Marco. The orange peel in the olive tapenade with the thin slice of veal is pretty damn good and sometimes, I am sorry, sometimes, spinaci e mozzarella is just the thing and don't make me cry thinking about the fried zucchini blossoms with prosciutto cotto at that fru-fru little joint facing Palazzo Rucellai.

As usual, Hathor, your wicked sense of humor infuses your prose. Thanks. I'm interested in the pit-roasting especially since it evokes one memorable hiking trip in Girl Scout camp (meets Lord of the Flies) and New England clambakes. I wonder how extensive the practice is in Italy or how far back it can be traced. Andrew? I know classical archaeologists find seeds, etc. during digs, but are there signs of deliberate burial of animal parts, bones charred with traces of myrtle? Far from altars? As for the blood pudding, one thing that I believe I read in Del Conte is that chocolate is mixed in. Please excuse this morning's propensity for associations, but this sounds a bit like the chocolate filled & glazed eggplant timbale of Naples. Arab roots? * * * Anna Del Conte divides the cuisine of Sardinia into coastal and inland practices, arguing the two do not mix. And Pan, I think Hathor was referring exclusively to the lack of interest that medieval Sardinians displayed in venturing far asea. Depending upon your definitiion of the medieval period, that represents a time span of more than a millennium, so who knows if conflicting evidence of some journeys survives? A land that suffers one invasion after another may develop a strong dose of xenophobia. Shaya: I am so sorry about the fate of your beautiful pasta. You said that you've had success in the past, but I wonder if the semolina grains weren't fine enough. And finally, while scrolling below to check previous posts, I now see Kevin's pictures, including the zucchini I intend to make tonight (ADC calls Sardinian feta "fetta" and says it's virtually identical to the Greek cheese), also from the same source if with mozzarella, red vs. yellow peppers and golden & green squash. I'm glad to see the malloreddus turned out well with adjustments to the recipe. They also look perfectly formed...I see the tip of the coveted mold there on the left, Kevin.

Good points and interesting thread. Never say never, though. As a general rule, cheese is not sprinkled on Italian primi such as pasta with seafood. However, there's a Sicilian main course in which swordfish is treated like thin slices of meat and rolled up with mozzarella before frying (Braciole di Pescespada). Cf. Ada Boni's Italian Regional Cooking. I am not sure how "authentic" Mario Batali's recipe for tuna and ricotta fritters is, but, there you go. Besides, Italy's a diverse country and the problem of an authentic Italian cuisine is similar to the one for Indian or Chinese. There are different local traditions, not everyone subscribes to same belief systems... 1) One of the problems with the label "authentic" is that you need to determine what establishes the norm and when it is fixed in time. There are lots of recipes for coq au vin and let me tell you the one about tomatoes and osso buco. Home cooks get bored with the same-old, same-old. So do chefs. Daughters rebel against mothers and so on. You gotta be creative sometimes, make do with what you have or use up all the blanched fava beans before they spoil. It's a bit like the dilemma Alan Lomax faced when traveling through southern regions of the United States trying to capture true, authentic "folk music" before it got corrupted by outside forces. Each of his musicians offered a variation on the songs passed down to him or her, so what was the true, authentic song? If that musician lived in a swamp without a phone or car or TV or record player, was his music authentic folk music? If he went off to college and started to visit blues clubs and listen to the radio, and wrote his own songs, were his original compositions not authentic folk music, but his recordings of his mother's lullabies were? 2) Should a chef be bound by laws that home cooks are free to break?

Alberto, have you ever baked Sardinian breads? Or anyone else, have you come across any recipes for Sardinian loaves, that is, bread other than the carte da musica, or other flat/cracker-like breads that seems to be used in cooking the way matzoh is during Passover? I found this recipe & this site, but... * * * One of the non-DOP Sardinian cheeses available here is a relatively mature, nutty goat cheese called Pantaleon. I highly recommend it.

Cf. the article linked in the first post of this short thread on Ikea.

Wondered if you'd pick up on the challenge, Andrew, but had no idea you'd do so so quickly! (I also love those speedy little lizards; great blog! ) Shaya : Gorgeous!!!! Now I have mold envy. I can't wait to see the finished dish, but can't imagine anything more beautiful than your perfect rows of pasta. The malloreddorus are like plump dusted butter curls. Mike : You win the prize for the first complete Sardinian meal, inspirational at that. I am heading out to the farmers's market and looking forward to the first local zucchini. As for Italian desserts, well, Andrew's post is the best reply: Gelato !

1) Some kinds of chili at the peak of tomato season make me crave the stuff even if it's muggy outside. A/C units have changed my seasonal diets now that I'm not just sitting in front of a tiny fan carried to the dining table. 2) Cake? Have to agree with you there, for the most part, though the one exception was tomato-soup cake on picnics for July 4 (haven't had that for years! New England's response to tuna hot dish?). However, summer means peach and berry pie. Now is the time for Mayham Man's thread to be bumped up again.

Any idea why, Sara? What makes Bittman's books "brilliant'" and the others less attractive?

Yes, I agree with you about the value of Greens and the difference between this "break-out" book vs. later books designed expressly for home cooks. In many ways Moosewood & Anna Thomas (esp. VE, Book 2) did the groundwork by appealing, first of all to idealistic younger consumers who identified with some aspects of CA/Counter culture. Both books were very different from the boring British Penguin PB or earlier US publications motivated either by faith (7th-Day Adventists?) or health (Adele Davis). Madison elevated vegetarian food to the level of "gourmet cuisine" and made it more attractive to omnivores at the same time that options for buying produce were expanding. Chard at the time the book came out was something I never bought. Now? It's readily available and familiar. As for what you say about your friend's professional growth vs. the publishing career of St. Marcella*, I have to think about that. Both authors serve similar didactic purposes for the English-speaking public. Both are proselytizers, too, if with utterly different personalities and approaches. However, Hazan's mission introducing unfamiliar Italian cuisine does not offer as much flexibility as Madison's does, especially now that the vegetarian is an omnivore and is focussing more on the Waters/Slow Food/farmers' market foundation of her cooking. Because specialization or "micro" approaches in cookbooks are selling, Hazan provides variations on traditional, regional Italian dishes in her most recent books, but...well, this is material for a different thread. *Beata? Proof of public veneration is essential for official canonization, but at least two--formerly three--posthumous miracles are required for papal approval of a cult.

Geoff, I have a feeling your observations apply to a lot of us. What draws us to foods outside of our own up-bringing tends to be based on personal experiences, whether travel, studies, profession, or of course, the desire to please someone dear to us. The first "exotic" tradition I turned to was France, not because of Julia Child, but the fact that my public school system USED to introduce foreign languages in fourth grade and it was easiest to continue in the same language later, ultimately leading to classes with remarkable cooks in high school and college and then study abroad where I lived close to a market street, Lenotre and had access to a kitchen. Hooked. A used book by Diane Kennedy sat on my shelves for ages before I read through Docsconz's thread on his trip to Mexico. Between that and the eG obsession with pork, I ended up cooking one fine recipe and found the book far less intimidating than it first appeared to be. I also recall being a little disappointed in David Downie's book Cooking the Roman Way, having used it primarily for three recipes, one of them extraordinary. Nothing else really appealed to me until April when some of us cooked the regional foods of Rome and the book just proved convenient. I think in this case, time was a factor, too, although the prospect of buying expensive artichokes, throwing away most of the leaves and then frying them in lots and lots of oil also was off-putting. I ended up making an amazing vegetarian stew with braised artichokes that proved more economical than I anticipated, something I would not have produced earlier when fava beans were hard to come by. Now they're fashionable, so the book's more useful, too.

Nathan: Your brand of Sardinian dried pasta looks superior to the brand available at Balducci's (see my post at the beginning of the thread). The fregola seems to have been toasted, i.e. the individual balls of grain are a variety of colors from pale yellow to black. There were also bags of malloreddus, but I didn't buy them since they were made without the traditional saffron (and also weren't as photogenic as yours) and they just didn't seem all that different from Puglia's orchiette except in shape. Are they? I understand from the recipe at epicurious that the ridges were traditionally formed by rolling the pieces of dough in a basket, as opposed to using the prongs of a fork. * * * Something else Sardinia is known for is Miele Amaro, honey produced from the "arbutus-berry" whose flowers bloom from October through February. Check out the Gelato di San Crispino, the first flavor listed at this gelateria in Rome. Perhaps Andrew Fenton could investigate and give us a report?

I'm with Busboy both on these cookbooks and his theory. To this category I'd add early Deborah Madison cookbooks, Greens and A Savory Way, still gathering dust on my shelves. Maybe a second question is: about which food porn books can we honestly say "no, really, I read it for the articles, not the pictures!" ?? ← Both of you bring up books and authors I had in mind. Paul Bertolli's book for ChezP seems far more useful to me than AW's Menu cookbook, the latter purchased long after I knew that citrus works nicely with butterleaf lettuce in salads, etc. There's a good eggplant soup and fish cooked in parchment in those pages, I think, though otherwise, it's just the composition of menus that interested me enough to buy the book, but not enough to use it. As for Judy Rodgers, I purchased her book because of the buzz and rank the introduction to The Zuni Cafe Cookbook up there with some of the best autobiographical food writing ever, though I know I am biased. (You, Busboy, ought to appreciate the story about the pig's head!) I've made a total of eight recipes and consider the book a worthwhile investment because of the recipe for (BRINED) roasted chicken with bread salad and the simple kale soup with egg. I also learned from its pages that I prefer chicken stock without all the extras I used to add (bay leaves, peppercorns, parsley...). I'd have to look through it again to figure out why I don't look through it more often. As for Deborah Madison: there seem to be VERY strong opinions on both sides of the camp on that one. I made a good friend in grad school in a town known for its potlucks and vegetarians. She hates Greens and thinks it's too fussy (and this is a person who bakes her own VERY good baguettes) and for that reason, never bought anything else by the author. James Peterson is HER man. While I never attempted the cannoli with beet greens and walnut sauce as described by the fat, bearded Russian specialist who sold me on the book, I have made more than 3 dozen things and own two other later books by Madison. Over time, she simplified as many of us do. I probably have made more things from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone than I have from any other book excluding those by Marcella Hazan...or maybe James Beard (my teething ring) or possibly Bittman. Local Flavors is one of those 7-recipe books, but the roasted tomato and pepper soup made last summer is the one of the few things that is going to get me through the prospect of a hot, muggy summer. As for comment made about the Thomas Keller books, there goes my theory about restaurant-affiliated cookbooks, although this is an exceptional figure and the two mentioned may be exceptional books. In a cable-free household, I am relatively immune to the chef-celeb aspect of cookbook culture. I bought Molto Italiano mostly because of a cover article in Gourmet some time ago and know I will make a lot despite the fact that a few of the recipes have seemed a little sloppy--i.e. instructions don't make sense, steps are omitted, etc. On the other hand, I resented Lidia Matticchio Bastianich's public profile since Marcella Hazan was my demi-god and wished that TV didn't have such an influence on those who purchased cookbooks, overlooking the unfamiliar pioneer for the woman they recognized. I caught one of LMB's shows on PBS, tried one of her published recipes, bought one of her terrific books and learned something about overcoming prejudice. * * * Thanks for all the interesting posts here. I hope to learn more.

So, two patterns here: 1) Esoteric Ingredients If you don't shop with a recipe in mind, but turn to cookbooks as sources of inspiration once you have done your shopping (something recommended over and over again in basic cookbooks: let what's available and of high quality determine what you buy), your pantry lacks the spices, oils or exotic flour required. This would be particularly true in certain parts of the country. I confess I couldn't be bothered ordering anything by mail and would rather turn to a different recipe or book. 2) Expense 3 pounds of prosciutto and 2 of morels to stuff and sauce veal chops for eight, anyone? Then, there is the equipment you need to buy. The special pans. Sometimes, for the weak, these are incentives. Very good point. After shopping, I will often consult several books and then combine ideas gleaned from multiple sources, myself. Major culinary figures constantly tell home cooks to think of recipes as sources of inspiration, not Mosaic Law. However, there are some cookbooks that do inspire you to follow instructions to the letter because they sound so good and worthwhile, while others do not. When the book was a present or a freebie, it's understandable that the book just sits on the shelf. Then there are the books you order online that you think are going to be great, but prove less than thrilling once unwrapped and in your hands. What's more intriguing is the book that looked so tempting in the bookstore that you had to buy it then and there...and then, once owned, proves disappointing. It's harder for me to distill these observations into points 3, 4, and so on, so I'm going to stop trying. The second intention is echoed in this thread. That's the phenomenon that O'Neill could not understand; it was the source of the "titters" I mentioned. Her fans confessed they just like to read cookbooks for pleasure...or even edification, I'd argue, though the lessons might not involve a superior way to bake a proper loaf of bread. 3) Who says you need to follow recipes to the letter? Cookbooks are sources of inspiration or pleasure. (OK, combo srhcb & mizd) 4) If at first you don't succeed, give up. The chef needed a co-author or a better editor (as do I).

Thank you Twiggles, Fou de Basson & err, I guess, Ghostrider, though I hope my solution does not involve an accident or frustrated hurling fit. I especially appreciate the new vocabulary word ("grommet") the day after the Scripps Spelling Bee here in Washington, D.C. If only I could see what requires tightening....

Thank you for your replies, Robin. On one of those rare unsteamy Saturdays this summer, I intend to visit your highly praised market. I am definitely curious. Cibola participates in the Dupont Circle Market, too. I admire what they do, but confess I was looking for something less expensive. The borage sounds promising. Since I understand it is sometimes recommended as a plant to grow next to tomatoes, I hope I will be able to find someone who could sell me enough fully grown borage to fill a batch of ravioli.

My public library had a few more relevant books: The Mondadori Regional Italian Cookbook by Anna Martini (NYC: 1982) The Food of Southern Italy by Carlo Middione (NYC: 1987) which is organized not by region, but by category of food with representative recipes for each region, beginning with all recipies for pizzas and breads. I also found a couple of recipes in the second cookbook by Danny Meyer & Michael Romano of Union Square Cafe, including ravioli made with chard and fresh Sardinian pecorino. The other lists bottargo as an ingredient, another local specialty which should be interesting tracking down.

Fiore Sardo is ideal for pesto. It's by definition, aged. Click on wheels of cheeses at the bottom of this site for better picture with more detailed information. (I could not find a site in English, though, I am sure something exists.)

What cookbooks do you rarely use? Why? Molly O'Neill begins "Food Porn" by recounting an experience in a bookstore in Santa Barbara that made her feel as if she'd just eaten a very bad clam. Her mother stood nearby as she greeted gushing fans waiting to have copies of Cookbook Number Three signed. Unaccustomed to seeing her daughter as the object of such adulation, she blurted out "'Do you actually cook that stuff?'" The embarrassed titters gave the author pause. Why, she asked, do people buy cookbooks that they don't actually intend to use? What made her chosen genre more akin to fantasy literature or entertaining essays than instructional manuals, designed for practical use? If you're reading this, you probably hoard cookbooks, too, flipping through recipes in bed at night as if they were chapters in the latest novel by Michael Chabon or Zadie Smith. However, you also consult your books as guides, bringing them into the kitchen to cook from them, out in the backyard to cure and grill from them, photographing and discussing the results. There are not only threads on eGullet devoted to individual cookbooks, but threads that ask you about your favorite voices, the kinds of general cookbooks you favor and which cookbooks you turn to again and again. There is also a thread devoted to cookbooks you want to let go. I recognize one of them: Greene on Greens, a paperback I purchased when it was the only book of its kind in the small town where I was living. I liked the organization of the book, one vegetable after another, the chatty tone. Nearly a decade later, I think I've cooked two or three things from those pages. Too much butter and cream. Monotony. Information more interesting than the recipes. Someone once told me that, on average, we tend to prepare only seven recipes in each cookbook we buy. Who knows how that figure was calculated? However, I began to keep penciled lists in the back of new purchases each time I tried something new, just to make sure I didn't conform to that pattern. What about you? Which books do you neglect? I'd be interested in your perspective on what you think keeps you from reaching for these books again and again. What about specific genres of cookbooks? Any patterns there? For example do you cook from books affiliated with specific restaurants (Zuni, etc.) as much as you do from others? Or are they more like souvenirs and just a bit intimidating? Recipes too time-consuming for the home cook?

I had assumed erroneously that this was a link to a photograph of the cheese. What a great thread!

Indeed. I think you and Ling should open up a patisserie together!

Yes, WOW, I could not imagine making these little things! The brand is La Casa del Grano and bag weighs 500 g. ETA: web site is included on back.

Let me know what you think of the book, Klary since I haven't seen it and having just purchased three new books that haven't arrived yet (two relevant to this thread), I am holding off a bit. If you're off to tend your flocks, here's the bread. A feature on Sardinia at epicurious. And the ever-reliable entries at About.com. ETA: I am not the only here who bought a package of fregola in advance! Mine came with a recipe for clams on the back.