Pontormo

Daniel: Google delivers! Here's one recipe. I am sure you could find other advice....looks as if there's a lot out there in English. Trippa alla fiorentina.

Would you believe I have a bright yellow tray that makes ice cubes in the shape of Australia, sent all the way from Oz in a food blog package? I could pretend the wind outside isn't rattling the window panes and make iced tea, but it's time to shop for groceries. Now for my wool coat, scarf and thick lined gloves...

References to good cookbooks and other resources crop up here and there on this regional forum, with Kevin's food blog providing interest in cookbooks that focus on specific regions that hathor and orte (? sorry if I don't recall name correctly) have also traced in their cooking. Is there any interest in collaborating here on eGullet to assemble an annotated bibliography* of books, periodicals and other sorts of resources that feature Italian cooking and food history? An emphasis could be placed on items in English, in print and accessible here in North America. However, online international resources are rich, including library catalogs such as the one for the Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale di Firenze. This is to the Schlesinger Library and the New York Public Library Links to other online resources, including blogs that focus on Italian food might also be added. *Members could write short blurbs detailing contents, or evaluating features of the resource.

P.S. I know that sea cucumbers were mentioned above, but I meant to ask if you found your sea urchins there. Different locations for this store are mentioned, too. Does this kind of store reflect a growing development in fishmongering? Does jamiemaw have an opinion?

I remember throwing out a sturdy ricer from my mother's kitchen some time ago, thinking it would rarely be used. It is something I now regret, especially after eating mashed potatoes mixed with fennel or buttermilk. It wasn't until fairly recently that gingerbread started to appear in bakeries and supermarkets. Focaccia, kiwi, chocolate mousse, bubble tea... When something exotic first gains recognition, sometimes it endures. At other times, its disappearance makes us seem fickle. Do you have an opinion about certain foods or dishes that go in and out of fashion in the United States, or the roles that restaurants and the media play in creating or observing trends?

WOW!!! Thanks for the reports!!!

Maybe someone other than a shiksa should be replying, but in case you didn't know, fish gelatin is substituted for gelatin made from the customary animals for kosher products; they are generally accepted as pareve if not by all. Marshmallows from Israel containing fish gelatin are found in greater frequency in natural food stores and supermarkets because there are vegetarians who consume fish...and shoppers who like the nice short list of natural ingredients on the packaging.

Sources available online suggest there are all sorts of way to make this delicious salad. Perhaps the most vivid image can be provided first by a souvenir pin from Salt Lake City rather than a photograph. Go down to the third row, first object on the far left. Note the white chunks suspended in the green cubes. Next, Kraft has another suggestion for ways to eat your fruited gelatin and cottage cheese as a dessert instead of a salad. Finally, I am not sure the questions about the dish were inspired by the cookbook about the Bush family meals, or if we were all just talking about the kind of recipe this represents. If you're curious and wish to make it yourself, it takes less effort and fewer ingredients than that chili recipe that inspired an amusing thread earlier in the fall. Here's a recipe from a different source.

When I advised mzimbeck that she might enjoy Siena more than San Gimignano if she had never been there, I meant no disrespect to members of eGullet who have had a good time in San Gimignano. That part of my post was an opinion. I happen to love Siena, although not for culinary reasons. When my reference to Disneyland was understood in terms of the greater number of tourists in town during the summer, I explained that I meant something else. I pointed out the fact that the tourist experiences a modern recreation of an earlier twentieth-century notion of what a medieval town ought to look like. The towers erected in the twentieth century are modern concepts of what the original medieval towers of the city might have looked like rather than careful restorations based on historical evidence, including archival research or archaeological evidence. I was speaking as someone somewhat familiar with the research who has spent time in the communal library, if not investigating architectural history. I studied with, worked beside, and listened to those whose expertise in both medieval architectural history and modern restoration supersedes my own. I believe one of the recognized experts on San Gimignano came to a dinner I cooked on New Year's Eve. I made a stuffed polenta. Like you, I have enjoyed the time I have spent in San Gimignano where I confess one of my favorites is a moralizing cycle of frescoes about the dangers of women painted on the interior of what might be called the "mayor's" office. The ceramics are beautiful; I bought a lovely espresso tray with two little cups as a Christmas gift. One recent scholarly book that touches upon the political forces behind the reconstruction of San Gimignano while addressing a broader historical context is The Renaissance Perfected. Its historiographic approach reflects an exciting, ongoing line of inquiry as well as a re-evaluation of the filters through which we as contemporary beings must view the distant past. Our inability to grasp that past fully may be frustrating at times when the one telling document or piece of physical evidence that would answer all of our questions remains elusive. Yet, I am sure many of us are grateful for living in an age of modern plumbing, modes of transportation, cell phones, internet booking sites, ATM machines...and even more so, for restaurants and gelaterie.

Originating from the French word, ragout, the Italian ragu, from what little I know, has come to distinguish a meat sauce from any region from a sauce based on vegetables, or a sugo. I am a little skeptical when it comes to assuming that the very first reference to a ragu in a published cookbook would mean that the city or region of the publication produces the only authentic ragu. It may be that is the first appearance...if this is true...of the foreign word adapted by Italians. However, the kind of dish that ragu represents just makes a whole lot of practical sense to produce from scraps of this and that, well before the introduction of the tomato to Italian cooking. By the 19th century, I am guessing--but do not know for a fact--there were probably many regional versions of a meaty thing one plopped on top of pasta...or flattened bread dough, polenta...or stuffed into rice balls, etc. Again, I lack the expertise to do more than guess. Therefore, I would be interested in learning more about the source of your knowledge, P.N. Now as to the use of lamb in ragu in Naples, what I found in a google search was a cookbook by Arthur Schwartz: Naples at Table Perhaps someone familiar with the book might wish to address its reliability.

Ah, you're Chaucerian! The tale is about its teller! How about BOTH, though? There must be something in those recipes and pages that is about the powerful families that employed the cooks. The book would not have been published if they had worked exclusively as personal chefs for one wealthy but obscure family. The authors derive pride from the nature of the families who ate the meals...and exchange of respect that ignores partisan issues, a major point of your post. Barthes would say the voice in the text is yours or ours, i.e. that of the readers, since it is what we bring to the book that defines its meaning. The legitimacy of that position seems to be proven in the different positions taken by those who are posting here. P.S. Cute, Megan. Cute, JohnL.

What I meant is that San G is a made-up medieval town. It was in ruins in the modern era and all those quaint towers are recently sort of restored in a rather modern tourist-minded sense of what might look medieval and charming to modern sensibilities. (Sort of like the Victorian facades of the Duomo and Santa Croce in Florence as opposed to the facade of Santa Maria Novella which dates to the medieval and early modern/Renaissance era.) Historical accuracy was not a priority. In Lucca and Siena you get real medieval buildings and neighborhoods...and a feel for the past that respects that past. Edited to be nice: San G has nice blue and white ceramics to buy as late presents or for yourself. ...or sort of nice: Siena which captured San G during the late medieval period, is the more interesting city simply because it had greater wealth and greater power....and therefore, more was constructed, woven, carved, painted, and so forth. That is, if you are going to this region for more than meals, you might find the city more interesting. I wrote before knowing you've been before & that there is a place to eat that was recommended to you in San G.

Charles: What you write about this book is fascinating...and seems to me to suggest that the book has great value as a cultural and historical document. I personally don't think a cookbook is ever just a cookbook, nor a cigar merely a cigar. This particular book, as you say at the beginning of the post, does seem to be especially interesting because it links political history to food and (arguably--I haven't seen the book) probably has more value regarding the former than the latter. Certainly, it is interesting to me because you are starting to answer some of my early questions about the context in which the Bush cookbook was published. I was ignorant of this particular genre (?) of cookbooks written by chefs to political leaders in the U.S. I wonder if the practice is international...and how far back it goes. 19th-C France? Earlier? Elsewhere?

I am so glad to see that others are interested and generous enough to post! Thank you one and all. Kevin, I have not done your blog justice having joined eGullet later than your resolution began, so I really am grateful for the link to the soup and dishes from Friuli. Karen, I appreciate your generous sharing of something from the family. The recipe is very close to something I have made from Marcella Hazan's books where I pencilled in "God must speak to Marcella a lot!" the first time I tried it. [Disclaimer: I speak in cultural discourse, not being religious myself.] She specifies fresh rosemary at the end. I love the practice of adding an herb-infused oil as a finishing touch, especially when it comes to rosemary, a flavor I find overwhelming and monotonous sometimes when incorporated into a dish that I eat throughout the week. Linda: I recently discovered how good chestnuts are in bean soups and cavalo nero is one of my favorite greens in the world, so thanks for the link!!!! And Jaymes, I am glad that I inspired you to buy Wasserman-Miller's book. I suspect it may not have sold well initially because many North Americans only know one kind of minestrone & straciatelli, perhaps. Also, the author is fond of using Italian terms for different stages of preparing a soup and that might have been off-putting to novices. As I said, though, the book has a wonderful range of soups and I intend to invest in my own copy soon. Nothing to post of my own at this point, though I will return later.

In response to your question about lunch, do consult Divina Cucina's personal Web site where you'll find recommendations organized by location. The following includes places you may also find on her site. It's slightly modified from something I wrote in response to frequent requests from a younger set headed off to Florence in the summer, so please forgive anything that may strike you as a little too "maternal" in tone: Osteria del cinghiale bianco Borgo San Jacopo, 43/r [r = red; street #s are red for commercial establishments or n (nero/black) for residential addresses]. The White Boar. This is my personal favorite if the neighboring Cammillo is the more elegant (pricey) establishment. On the Oltrarno, a street running parallel to the Arno, right behind the bank of the river. Fairly close to Ponte Santa Trinita, to the left, heading toward the Palazzo Pitti. (On the corner is a high-class "deli".) While their Web site says they accept Visa cards, I seem to recall they require cash only, at least in summer. Staff very warm and helpful, especially when your party includes a 5-year old Chinese girl. Great ragu made with wild boar. Great spinach. Almost as friendly with women dining alone. Reservations. Acqua al due Via Vigna Vecchia, 40/r To left of Santa Croce's belltower. One of two co-owned restaurants across from one another. Fairly new and popular. When figs are in season, their antipasto salami con fichi is incredible. Best known for pizza and very good primi [1st courses, though it is perfectly acceptable these days to order pasta as a main dish in all but the most elegant restaurants]. Gilda Bistro Piazza Ghiberti 40-41r. Next door to Cibreo, also off San Ambrogio Market. Small. Reservations at night. Fabulous grilled porcini (these mushrooms are eaten like steak in Tuscany). Ravishing desserts if you have room. La Capponcina Outside of the city in Settignano, Bus #18. Some take cabs. FYI for future reference since best in warm weather at end of day; very beautiful at night. Foccaccia con rucola e prosciutto crudo is a specialty. (Haven't gone for years but enchanting.) Santo Spirito area: At least four very good places to choose from just around the piazza. The phenomenon is starting to spill into the Piazza Camine (in front of church with Brancacci Chapel) where you'll find a night spot called La Dolce Vita on one side and a good little trattoria on the other. Very unimposing, inexpensive good place called La Casalinga (the housewife) is on the little street leading directly into the piazza SS, via Michelozzo 9. (There's a nice place close enough to the Uffizi to have been affected by a bomb that exploded some time ago--very old-fashioned, traditional Tuscan fare where they also do wonderful porcini. I love their ribollita (hearty, filling soup). Perhaps someone can help me out with its name.) QUICKER/CHEAPER OPTIONS Italian bars are essentially cafés, places to get cappuccino ed una pasta (pastry) in the morning or as a late afternoon snack. Stand up at the counter; it's usually 2-4x cheaper. Decide what you want and pay first, showing your receipt (scontrino) to the barrista. While the very best was destroyed by Roberto Cavalli, there are still lots of fine old places and then some. Rivoire is opposite the Palazzo Vecchio, famed for hot chocolate in winter but also a fine purveyor of flaky pastries. Scudieri leads into Piazza San Giovanni (Duomo) and is quite popular. Robiglio on via dei Servi is a good place to stop between the Duomo and Santissima Annunziata or the Ospedale degli Innocenti; a nice bakery is close by on the opposite side of the street & sells pizza by the slice. If it's early on a Sunday morning, cross the Ponte Vecchio and head towards the Pitti Palace. On the left, past the shoe stores, there is an oldish looking bar with lots of colorful fruit salads and panini set out to attract your eye. They make great cornette (Italian croissants; budini are oval cakes made with rice and in the winter bambolini alla crema make custard-filled donut lovers swoon) that are sometimes still warm from the oven. Open daily. At lunch many bars produce dishes from their kitchens in addition to the salads and sandwiches in the counter display cases. Sometimes a bowl of pasta at one of these places is cheaper than buying bread, cheese and a yogurt at an alimentaria or corner food store. Bar degli amici (??? something like that) is across the street from the Palazzo Ruccellai, on left, towards the Arno and has fabulous panini & salads for lunch. Coquinarius Via delle oche, 15r. Near Duomo. Fairly new wine bar, great for large salads (gorgonzola con noci!) during a leisurely lunch or light dinner. American cheesecake. According to Divina's Web site, though, they're open for brunch on Sundays, so you might have to check hours and fare. Tavola Caldo da Roco inside Mercato di San Ambrogio. Lunch only. Boisterous. Gorge at lunch for hardly any money. Enoteca Balducci Via dei Neri, right near piazza and close to Arno. Not far from Santa Croce. Wonderful place owned by Donatello & wife. Packed after one with daily specials (not ready at noon). Check out cases inside first and see what the Florentines are eating. Big with the Biblioteca Nazionale crowd. Via dei Neri is a great street for even cheaper lunches. Across from a good Japanese restaurant (Eito) is a narrow little place whose black tee-shirts tell you why God wants you to drink wine and not water. Great roast pork sandwiches plus (big w/ Florentines; another funkier spot w/ more limited offerings is under arch where the city's most important nunnery, San Pier Maggiore used to stand. Way back when each new bishop ceremoniously married the convent's abbess; now short old men stand around smoking, laughing, scowling and drinking wine). Across the street is the proprietor's friggitoria where you can point at roasted vegetables and other goodies to eat seated at one of their tables or on the street. While it looks as if your trip is too short this time around, I strongly recommend another to Umbria in the late fall through winter. The region's food--as witnessed by Kevin's blog I seem to recall, but also Hathor's posts--truly suits the season. For me, there's nothing like waking up in Assisi in the winter time when most of the tourists and student groups are elsewhere...or some of the other less well known towns. As for your plans to visit San Gimignano in the day time and Siena for dinner, a gentle nudge: San G. is a made-up modern fantasy of medieval Italy. It is charming, but it's a bit of a Disneyland. With Lucca (THE Florence of the earlier Middle Ages) you get the real thing combined with an elegant touch of the 18th century, and Siena, Siena is a wonderful place where most of its riches date to the late thirteenth and early fourteenth century (i.e. when Paris was becoming Paris). I don't have strong recommendations for places to eat, but encourage you to see the city itself during the day if you haven't gone and check out the Museo del'Opera del Duomo (next to the cathedral) and the Pinacoteca, the "picture" museum in life between meals.

Ms. Reichl: Thank you for mentioning John Haney's piece, an essay that still haunts me and remains my favorite of all that I have enjoyed reading in Gourmet. I also remember how warmly you introduced his contribution; I am pleased to learn the author has gained recognition for his work. A member of my family is from that part of London and I almost sent her a copy, but then stopped myself. Her feelings about her childhood are mixed, especially when it comes to matters of class. The gesture might have been viewed as an insensitive reminder of the difficulties she has managed to escape. Another strong memory from reading Gourmet was the decision to substitute the word "canned" for "tinned" long before your tenure. It is gratifying to see how much the magazine has moved away from a rarefied position in the publishing world, accommodating so many different kinds of voices.

How high will the biddings go? Walk, don't run.

An interview with Eric Schlosser serves as one of the supplements to the DVD of Supersize Me. He says that after what he learned in researching Fast Food Nation, he still indulges in hamburgers occasionally, but only when purchased from one of the more "upscale" places he favors. However, he will never, ever let his kids eat hamburgers.

Yetty, your picture is gorgeous!! Is the tahu simply deep-fried naked as in Red-Cooked Tofu or is this battered?

The very last piece of pumpkin pie! It was made with the last of the organic gingerroot that a Swiss farmer grows locally and brings to the farmers market. The pumpkin was baked and pureed on the morning of Thanksgiving. Otherwise, the recipe was barely altered from the family's traditional one, down to evaporated milk from a can. One piece of advice picked up from NPR this year: take the pie out of the oven when it is just about but not yet fully solid. That evening after the pie had been left out to cool, the filling seemed a tad too soft. However, after refrigeration, the texture was utterly sublime. The best I have ever made, and honey, this is my favorite pie in the world and I am the queen of the pumpkins !

When I was still a graduate student, I would leave the library just before it closed. Winding down Via Sant'Antonino where four little pigs sat stuffed, clutching forks and knives, checkered napkins tied around their necks like the ropes that suspended prosciutto from the ceiling of the shop behind their table, I headed toward the bus at Santa Maria Novella. Often it was one of those accordian monsters, the front of the vehicle attached to the rear by pleated folds of a substance that resembled vinyl. If the bus was really packed, there was nowhere to stand but on the metal platform between those folds, pitching and adjusting your balance with every turn down narrow streets while the space around you expands and then contracts over and over until it stopped beside the lumber yard far from the city center. From there, the walk home was through twisting, dark passages lit by electric candles set before Madonnas enshrined within the towering walls. At the end: a club for working men; above, my apartment. Behind that, fields where the rooster crowed just before the light returned to us once more. I shared the space with three other students. We would collect in the kitchen when it got really cold which it did that winter. Instructions on the wall advised us to turn on the heat only in the evening and only until we went to bed. Even when the heat was on, it was barely enough for the two of us from the U.S. We wore layers upon layers and walked around with hands wrapped around mugs of tea. We sipped lots and lots of soup. Kevin's thread on ragu has gotten me to think about that nourishing soup. If you are also as grateful as I am for thick, substantial winter soups from Italy, I would love to hear from you, whether it is a recommendation of a favorite restaurant, or recipe or advice you'd like to share based on soups you have made yourself. Since this post is rather lengthy, I will mention only two sources very briefly: 1) in Lidia's Italian-American Kitchen there is a recipe for ribollita that strikes me as amazingly Tuscan and authentic. It is now a favorite. 2) Wasserman-Miller's Soups of Italy is now on sale at JessicasBiscuit. Based on what I have made from a copy checked out at the library, I highly recommend the book.

Cf. the question regarding cookbooks in the ongoing conversation with Ruth Reichl. The editor mentions ragu and Marcella Hazan if not at length.

Brands? Anyway to get to the source before they cut it into thin slices?

While it does not answer all questions, I strongly recommend that eGullet members pick up Something from the Oven. Reinventing Dinner in 1950s America by Laura Shapiro if they are not already familiar with the book. It's available in paperback, published by Penguin. Quote from blurb on back: "In a captivating blend of culinary history and popular culture, award-winning author Laura Shapiro shows us what happened when the food industry elbowed its way into the kitchen after World War II, brandishing canned hamburgers, frozen baked beans and instant piecrusts. Big business waged an all-out campaign to win the allegiance of American housewives, but most women were suspicious of the new foods--and the make-believe cooking they entailed." These two sentences evoke many, many of the threads, issues and names, such Sandra Lee, that appear on this Web site.

I am actually referring to an incident that occured well before ongoing international situations. Please.