Pontormo

Judith: Thank you! I think the saying means something like the following: When foreigners* smell or taste pesto, it's as if they instantly know how to speak the native tongue." *people from places other than the city of Genoa, including Italians. Zena=Genoa's local dialect

Adam: I would recognize John Dory even if it's wearing sunglasses. However, what's that fat, flat glistening fish in the lower left corner? * * * I haven't done my cooking yet; disappointed that there were no bluefish or makerel for an old Geonese stand-by. (Thanks for the tip on recipes in MH's Cucina, Klary, which I managed to borrow from the library again today.) However, eG members from the United States will appreciate the following most: I decided to track down a bottle of authentic Ligurian olive oil without spending extravagant amounts of money. Taking the Metro (subway train) to a shopping district to run a few errands before I picked up my groceries, I went into T.J. Maxx, a place known primarily for ghastly plaster-cast figurines (I still could kick myself for not buying a bookend in the shape of the nose of Michelangelo's David a few years ago), discounted clothing and odds and ends for the home at bargain prices. They have a limited number of luxury food items way in the back: maple syrup from Canada bottled in the shape of a maple leaf, that sort of thing. Well, one and only one of the bottles of olive oil had a name that looked like the kind of olive grown in Liguria, though I had no idea where Ama-Taggia was. Sure enough, I got something from these guys. I doubt I will be able to track down Italian pine nuts, but will get a chance to compare the taste of pesto made with different olive oils. T.J. Maxx!!!!

Regional Specialties of Italy For those interested in sending Kevin their choices for the third quarter of 2006 (July-September), here is a brief account of the remaining regions. I've used blue font to highlight names of regions that I personally think would be best to postpone until cooler months. Red is used for Southern regions with an emphasis on vegetables in their cuisines, green for the remainders. • Trentino-Alto Adige Northern-most region with strong ties to Austria. Rye flour. Buckwheat polenta. Mushroom polenta. Apples. Pig. Strudel. Perfect for winter. • Veneto Squid ink strands and bigoli, thick noodles made with a special form or press; otherwise, polenta and rice are favored over pasta, as in risi e bisi, rice with peas. Radicchio. Fish. Poultry, including duck with pomegranates. Padua, Vicenza and Verona as well as Venice. Region's Pinot Grigios are big among US drinkers who feel obligated to have wine instead of beer when invited to a dinner party. • Emilia-Romagna Sigh. Lasagna, tortellini and in general fresh pasta made with eggs, stuffed or not, in timbales, light broths, cream sauce. Controversy surrounds its Ragu Bolognese—here on EGullet and elsewhere. In addition to the importance of Bologna, there's also Modena with its balsamic vinegar, Ferrara with its bread, and Parma with its cheese (best in the world; this is NOT an opinion, but fact) and ham. Fruits are excellent, especially cherries, peaches and now kiwi. Region is well represented in cookbooks written in English, most notably The Splendid Table which Kevin featured in his blog last year. Warming, filling dishes suggest that November would be the first month I'd recommend for returning to this region. • Toscana Celebrated for the wines of Chianti, especially, and unpretentious foods simply prepared such as grilled porcini glistening with olive oil and steaks high in the hills, squirted with lemon. Florentines are known as contrarian bean-eaters who gorge on tripe in the streets. Tourists usually buy paneforte, a dense fruit cake, when visiting Siena; they should then take the train to Lucca for some olive oil, a major component of Tuscan cuisine and go on to Prato for biscotti to dip into Vin Santo. Soups are great, especially ribollita made with beans, bread and cavolo nero. Arista, a luscious, herby pork roast; salami with figs; boar. Chestnut flour and walnuts. (For these reasons, I personally would prefer waiting until October.) Along the coast: eels. Again, the region is a popular subject for Anglo-cookbook authors. • Le Marche Seafood! Its brodetto, a great fish soup may be best known, but mussels are also important here. Braised beef. Porchetta. Pecorino. Cauliflower. Apples, peaches and cherries. A great antidote to some of the regions with heavy, filling food. • Umbria Hathor's beloved region, a place to gawk, and in Assisi, a goal of pilgrims, tourists, scholars and high school students from France. Grilled meats in the open air. Salami flavored with wild fennel. Head cheese from piggies. Norcia's pig butchers and products are of renown. Boar. Black truffles and squab. Wonderful lentils. Polenta, pasta (including thick, hand-rolled strands) AND pizza. Soup called blò blò represents the rustic cooking of this region well…but there is also chocolate in Perugia should you care to indulge. HATHOR? Are you there yet? When would you like us to cook along with you? • Abruzzi Del Conte unites this region with Molise, claiming that while political administration separates the two, their cuisines are indistinguishable. Coastal areas, of course, known for fish. In mountains and inland, pork, some sheep and poultry. Chili peppers tell us we are moving south on the Italian peninsula, most notably in dishes diavoliacchio. Ventricia, as the beginning of the name implies, is made with pig's stomach, using chili peppers, wild fennel and oranges! Brodetto also prepared here, without saffron. Another soup called Le Virtu is traditionally prepared at the beginning of May, using up the vegetables left over from the previous season as one looks ahead to the riches of the next harvest. • Molise See above. Inexpensive wines from these two regions increasingly available in North America. • Puglia Major agricultural center on the southeast coast, thus vegetables dominate. Tomatoes, fennel, peppers, chicory. Raw fava beans dipped in EVOO. While some critics cannot get over what they perceive as an overpowering "burnt" taste, its red wines are now being more widely distributed worldwide. A summer month seems ideal. • Campania Home of Naples and the birthplace of pizza…and [some would say THE] ragù. One of the first regions where Indian buffalo were introduced, the prized source of mozzarella, object of a heart-wrenching moment (set in Rome, though) shared between father and son in the great masterpiece of Italian Neo-Realism, The Bicycle Thieves. Vegetables reign, with the crown perhaps worn by the tomato of San Marzano, though it should be noted that locals are sometimes called mangiafoglie, or leaf-eaters. Fritto misto. Veal rolls. Torte di vedura are made with escarole, artichokes, etc. Cheese is essential as well. Since its Christmas traditions were honored last year, it would be interesting to turn to this region in a warmer month this time around. • Basilicata Arguably the poorest region in Italy. Pig—especially in sausage. Ragù. Chestnuts. Chickpeas (ceci). Bread. Peperonata. Chilies. Hard, salty ricotta. • Calabria Natural surroundings stunning if also an area of poverty. Vegetables dominate cuisine. Chestnuts. Grapefruit and oranges. Eggplant Mushrooms. Chilies. Pasta is extremely important. Cheese is made from sheep's milk. • Sicilia Another sigh. Pastry!!! Gelati! Eggplant! Tomato! Pasta! Seafood, especially sardines, octopi and the lamentably endangered swordfish. Watermelon jelly. Elusive pistachio paste. Almonds. Apricots. The best oranges in the world, streaked with fuschia, wrapped in thin, crinkly, colorful papers as if candy. Other wonderful citrus fruits. Artichokes. Ties to Greek, Arab (spices!) & Norman worlds make this region especially interesting. Major impact on Italian-American cuisine.

Something else to consider are the different attitudes towards home-baked vs. store-bought goods in Italy and in countries such as the United States where good bakeries are a relatively new phenomenon. It's hard to generalize, but Italians in villages and urban centers have been purchasing baked goods at least since the Middle Ages when there were massive communal ovens even if there's a great cook in the family. Bread is cheap, its price regulated by law to ensure sustenance of even those of little means. Moreover, as I am sure you know, elegant pastry shops in Italy, as distinct from bakeries carrying bread, have been around for a long time, thus, all the ones that stay open until around 1 or 2 on Sundays so that families can pick up a nice cake on the way to the grandparents for dinner. I imagine that these cultural practices endured even with the advent of supermarkets like Essalunga and mass production of cakey breads at Christmas and Easter.

Klary: Gorgeous meal? Now you live up to your name as the Sea Bass Lady. You said you thought the dessert might be too sweet given its filling. How did you like it?

I think an avocado cake would be MUCH better than an avocado pie!

First part of quote: If people thought merely that you get food from the grocery store--or the restaurant kitchen--they wouldn't have any problems with eating foie gras. Second part: Now what exactly did you do to your lawn to entice it to produce those morels? About those morels: Have you killed them yet?

In The Washington Post some time ago, an even purer version of this recommendation was offered in a short, evocative essay that made it sound wonderful: Toast one slice of your favorite bread. Mash half or all of an avocado over it. Sprinkle with very good, crunchy salt. Drizzle with olive oil. I do this now, sometimes adding a squeeze of lemon first. I find the olive oil's fat complements the avocado's richness. Try a milder, Ligurian olive oil (ROI) and see if it changes your mind about pairing the fruit with the oil. * * * While you said you're not interested in recipes that include avocado, the following can be prepared so that avocado stars. Just add more avocado than anything else. This is a little more typical of what graduate students out in the midwest eat: CARMEN'S TORTILLA SOUP Plum tomatoes Chicken broth Avocado (pluralize if so desired) Corn tortilla Fry the corn tortilla. Crumble when cool. Heat broth. Add chopped tomato, mashed avocado and tortilla pieces. Simmer just a few minutes. Eat. See if you'd like to add scallions, garlic, cilantro, lime juice, bacon or anything else next time.

The post by Jamie Maw (#349) in this thread would provides information about the production of foie gras in Canada (some is imported to the US). There is another post elsewhere about a California operation that I couldn't find in my quick search. ← Anne: Thank you for alerting me to this informative, well-written post. I urge others who have not read it to do so.

Actually, this is a cooking thread...we're just warming up. No one has ventured a first report just yet. I hope you'll find more than one recipe for trofie--a type of pasta you're right to single out--in one of the links as well as the bibliography introducing the thread. Anna del Conte says that the dough is made with flour, water, a little olive oil and only sometimes an egg, and cut into small squares before being "dragged over the work surface so that they take the shape of a spiral."* She also says this specialty of Genoa and nearby coastal villages is extremely difficult to make; it's customarily boiled with potatoes and green beans before it is mixed with pesto. *Gastronomy of Italy, 1st ed., p. 357.

Thank you! The link to last year's wonderful Ligurian meals is inspirational. (I have that little ravioli mold, too, a g-d-send for me since I can't draw a straight line. The only problem I have is that my old hand-crank Atlas pasta machine does not always provide sheets wide enough for the mold.) * * * When I lived in St. Louis, Missouri, I was appalled to learn that deep-fried ravioli was one of the local specialties. Never tried it, though I meant to. I can't remember where I saw the reference, but I read that fried ravioli are made in Liguria. I'd assume that the frying occurs in the region's olive oil instead of a vat of lard. However, Kevin or anyone else, do you know more?

Yes, this is one of the major lessons I learned from a friend in college who spent a semester studying in Rome. I didn't believe her at first, but listened and learned. What puzzles me here in the States is the success of Barilla, now ubiquitous. The pasta is no better than Ronzoni. When I lived in Italy, and my housemates didn't realize that De Ceccho was imported to the U.S., one of them picked up a box of Barilla and said "Never, ever buy this, it's no good," and then recommended the De Cecco instead. * * * Klary, you spoke about your friend coming back from Rome with his presents in your recent food blog. What's puzzling to me, at least, is the fact that the meat isn't rolled the way pancetta usually is. Thus, the question about guanciale.

Actually, having just read the most recent posts on the thread concerning Chicago's ban, I see I am not the only one here who has voiced discomfort.

Preamble, including disclaimers: 1) There are several other recent threads on this topic, including one that features Charlie Trotter and another even more recent thread on Chicago's ban. 2) I was a vegetarian for approximately three months in high school. I would include myself in the "pork dork" contingency here, except I don't like being called a "dork." Let's just say my favorite food in the world is prosciutto. 3) I wear leather shoes. My wallet's leather, just prefer my jeans made out of denim, please. I do not advocate throwing paint on people for wearing fur, breaking into labs to rescue animals or seizing lobsters from restaurant tanks and running...or snatching plates of foie gras from diners. 4) I have caught fish whose deaths were probably painful; the worms on the hooks were not wiggling with delight either. Skinned them, gutted them, fried them over a campfire. I have plunged live lobsters into water without the humane step that Julia Child is famous for demonstrating. Okay, that bothered me a little, but I quickly walked away and it didn't bother me too much. I have never slaughetered animals or seen them slaughtered, though I found the shots of cows and carcasses in the film Memories of Underdevelopment as disturbing as they were supposed to be. I accept the fact that the meat I eat several times a week comes from animals that were raised by humans to make pastry creams, steak or to deep-fry potatoes. 5) I enjoy healthy debate as much as the rest of you who are reading this thread, however, I am not posting this out of any masochistic desire to be berated. * * * I have not read long explanations about the way foie gras is produced. I just know what I've been told. It sounds dreadful, like prolonged torture. Am I the only one who is troubled by this? I am not advocating a ban on foie gras. People who are not troubled by foie gras have the right to eat it. People who are not troubled by the wearing of madras plaid patchwork pants on the golf course have the right to wear them, too....not that they're at all comparable. I am just trying to be tolerant. Better analogy, perhaps: I would not ban conventually raised produce were organic farming proven to be vastly superior in imparting nutritional benefits and prolonging life. Would someone with more knowledge about foie gras and its production please respond and tell me why it is just part of the chain of life and not any more gruesome than what goes on when pigs, poultry, cows or sheep are raised as food?

It's wonderful to have someone from a panel speak up. Would you be willing to tell us more about the process of selection?

Moreover, you may also wish to read: 6) Recipes here. 7) or here 8) My beloved Zingerman's on pesto. N.B. Remember what Kevin said about different types of pesto in one of the books? Cf. Amazon.com and consult the "Look Inside" for a couple of versions. 9) There's Babbo on Liguria with a link at the bottom you should consult too (Faith Willinger). 10) And if you REALLY want to knock yourself out, there's Cap[p]on Magro, as Divina mentioned. If you're looking for the absent bird, do note that the name of the dish is a bit of a tease. Capons were served on special occasions, so this recipe suggests that it is an elaborate dish. One story has it that wives of sailors served it to their men when they returned from a long voyage at sea.

There are always lots of sources for recipes and information to be found on the internet should you not come across a copy of the book you'd like to own or sift through at the New York Public Library while your kids are doing their homework. Here are some of the best I found, but by no means all of them: 1) Micol Negrin's page on Liguria offers wonderful recipes and even a series of instructive photographs to guide you in preparing one of the region's specialties. Her book, Rustico is something I would consider purchasing. 2) A number of us have praised the About.com site, for information as well as recipes. 3) There's this. 4) And this. 5) And this too.

No doubt all fifty restaurants meet standards of excellence. Precisely identifying those standards is the issue. There seems to be a cultural bias. One of the reasons for criticism already expressed concerns the Eurocentric, or Euro-NORTH American emphasis of the restaurants chosen. I am sympathetic to this kind of skepticism. However, I would go further by inviting you to click on the original list and look at all the different judges and the regions they represent. There are two different committees representing France and Italy, both of equal, or at least, comparable size. The names in both groups appear to reflect the country members represent, at least their family roots and one presumes, culinary knowledge, although a few, understandable exceptions occur given the attraction both countries hold for others who love and live to eat. Now take a look at this panel: 1) The Far East? At least the word "oriental" is not being used, but consider the difference between the size of China and either France or Italy, and the range of the cuisines of China's various provinces, let alone gastronomic developments in Hong Kong, Taiwan... Then, what about grouping Japan with China? Surely if the symbiotic relationship between the cooking of France and Italy nonetheless results in two different categories, Japan and China deserve acknowledgement of their independent traditions. Korea, etc. 2) Not even half of this group bears a name in which at least the first or last name is Asian. It does not mean that Randy Weddle was not born and raised in Hanoi, but, it does raise questions about the panels. 3) Mario Batali and Charlie Trotter are on the panel representing the United States. They would be great, qualified judges, but they are not impartial. This raises questions about panelists whose names are unfamiliar. Of course, impartiality is hard if not impossible. The size of each panel should help create balance. 4) Speaking of the size of each panel and the different parts of the world they represent, just what method was used to create a short list? How many people, especially without economic means, are able to travel and eat at the fifty restaurants that made the final list, let alone others that did not make the list? If that is not how the finalists were selected, what was done?

Speaking of pigs and books from Knopf and generating buzz on eGullet: Heat. Note that there is at least one thread in this forum on the New Yorker author, Bill Buford, and his related article in the May 1 edition of the magazine.

Last night I decided to make risotto with ramps. I consulted the entry on RAMPS in Elizabeth Schneider's Vegetables from Amaranth to Zucchini for a few ideas. Ended up separating the leaves from the white bulbs and red stems of the wild plant, slicing them into ribbons and sauteeing them in butter before adding a little heavy cream. Then took a bulbous mushroom from the farmers's market that resembles porcini in many ways except the pale brown cap is rather small. Diced it and sauteed it in a separate pan until cubes turned a pale gold and started to contract, seasoning it before squeezing on lemon juice It was SO good (and new to me) I almost ate it all on the spot. I blanched and shocked a few stalks of asparagus, reserving the tips and sauteeing small slices of the rest. Potentially a bit of an overkill, but last week I boiled the trimmed leaves of an artichoke in chicken stock so they wouldn't go to waste. I combined the results (less than a cup) with ordinary stock. The minced bulbs and stems of ramps were sauteed first before adding the rice. I didn't add the reserved vegetables until the end when they were accompanied by cheese and uncooked strips of prosciutto. I had heard ramps were powerfully strong and that the leaves, especially sweetened and tastes more subdued with longer cooking. This proved true. The leaves were a wonderful touch, great with the mushroom and prosciutto. The bulbs, however, may have lost too much flavor in the process. The asparagus was superfluous. **** One thing that has not been mentioned here is how good leftovers are as risotto fritters . Flatten them into pancakes. No need for binder. Wonderful fried as is, plain, on a bed of salad greens or topped with sour cream, tomato...

Bavila: Good luck on your crawfish boil! Please, please give us a report in the lunch or dinner thread. It took me a second to figure out what CSA stands for (Community Supported Agriculture). Brava! ******* Still have not made a poolish for bread-baking. I haven't been buying something novel every week, though I managed to pick up ramps, a new type of mushroom AND a magnificent long-stemmed artichoke this weekend. Not sure I am any better at avoiding waste than before, having just tossed about five small countainers of over-ripe sliced bananas in the freezer that seemed to have more frost-fuzz than fruit. Just could not bear to eat the last of a horrible up-scale bottled tomato sauce with porcini that was on sale. Yugh. On the other hand, I will be defrosting and recycling some cooked turkey from February 26 unless someone warns me otherwise.

Marketing is our friend. Otherwise consumers might not know what to do with these dear little tomatoes, so pretty in trifle or maybe strung on a necklace. What gets me is that there are so, so many heirloom tomatoes. This "new" type of tomato looks like a miniaturized version of striped varieties at my farmers's market (Striped Germans, green and yellow, red and green, pale and dark green....). Ho hum. Still, many shoppers would prefer to buy bright red hydroponic types in February than risk tasting something ripe, warm in the sun at the market in July, because it looks a little strange. Novelty seems to work better on chips and candy bars than it does on produce. Maybe these tomatoes are the new Smarties?

So, this is the reason I asked about mozzarella in carozza earlier in the thread. Vittorio de Sica's Bicycle Thieves (1948) is a favorite film that I probably will never see again in its entirity because it was so painful to watch. Just in case any of you reading this has not seen the movie, I will not spoil anything by even describing the scene where father and son share in the pleasures of this Southern Italian take on grilled cheese. Mario Batali gussies up the dish a tiny bit by adding thyme and nutmeg to the eggs and cream in the batter, and specifying mozzarella di bufalo which would have been too much of a splurge and therefore not in the spirit of the Neo-realist drama. However, I made a version that gets a nostalgic write-up here in Italian on the Slow Food site for Rome. The author, Andrea Monti, grew up in a northern part of Rome associated with di Sica's film. He includes anchovies in his version of the crustless sandwich, so I did too, although I was a little too hungry to press the assembled bread, fish and cheese in the batter for an hour to allow the flavors to merge.

So that's what happened! I always wondered why you stopped calling. Funny, they like the trifle here in D.C... P.S. I still have your bowl. Want it back?

Klary, I find the photographs taken at your own birthday celebration illuminating when the food's compared to the dinner party you prepared for your husband's 50th. From what I gather, each dinner made for Dennis is rather elaborate, if comfortably unfussy and also designed to share with lots of friends. Lots of work went into stuffing pasta and becoming Seabass Lady for 24. You gave yourself a relaxed, informal spread. I see how those sandwiches (do they look good!) relate to the homey food you introduce on your Dutch Cooking Thread or the pizzas on the day you turned 34. Am I reading too much self-expression into what you chose to cook in celebrating your own birthday? After all, you spent the entire week celebrating in lots of different ways, and not focussed on a single night.