Bill Klapp

OK, Jeffrey, but if you don't answer this question by week's end, there will be hell to pay! The "telling the truth" question may have dropped to the bottom of the second page. In this cynical age, I was apparently the only one who gave a rat's ass whether you are truthful or not...

JJ, I am a firm believer that Michael Moore got it right in Bowling for Columbine (and nowhere else, by the way). The Times, as well as all other American media, is merely perpetuating the climate of fear that has given us road rage and makes us buy guns and kill each other arbitrarily and senselessly. But it sure does sell newspapers and garner ratings during sweeps weeks! I would prefer to die by my own Casaba...

I found something on-line, to the effect that "Parmigiana" is a corruption of "Palermitani", meaning "people from Palermo" (as in Sicily). Seems plausible to me. And now, I want to exit the parmigiana sidebar before Sam comes after me for irrelevance!

Monica and Chef: A wonderful job! A question: I don't have a tandoor, but I do have a wood-fired pizza oven with a clay interior and floor, which I would love to use for Indian breads. Part of the reason for the success of that oven is the fact that it gets very hot (up to 900 degrees F.!), and cooks the moisture out of the dough quickly. For extra crispness, I use a spray bottle of water, and squirt the pizza a couple of times as it cooks. Could this work for Indian breads, and if so, is the spraying a good or bad idea?

Adam, a truly superior piece of work. In particular, the balance between history and recipes is perfect.

Not in the north, to my knowledge. The Italians have a miraculous gift for light breading and greaseless frying, but I don't see it applied that often to meats. I have seen a recipe involving multiple, alternating dredgings of a thick, single slice of mortadella in egg, Parmignano and bread crumbs and then frying the thing in butter (I'm dying to try it, actually--it sounds like the world's greatest fried bologna sandwich!), which would seem to be "Parmignana" in nature, without the tomato sauce. In the Piemonte, they pickle fried veal cutlets, along with fried eggs and cooked vegetables, in a cold summertime dish called carpione, which is actually quite delicious. Sam, is the pizzaiola native to Italy? If so, where?

I suggest footsteps, yes, but shoes, no. I believe that Amanda Hesser has written that Mr. Steingarten wears those "ugly-ass" Bruno Magli shoes that were so famous a few years back...

Veal Parmignana. A breaded (heavily, in the worst versions), fried veal cutlet (chopped veal, or chopped beef passed off as veal, in the worst versions) with cheese (usually mozzarella, rather than the implied Parmesan) melted on top which is then smothered in tomato sauce. The industrial versions are often plopped on a sub roll and thus, turned into a hero sandwich (possibly the highest and best use of veal Parmignana--Jason Perlow would think so, and maybe me, too).

Pan, of course. Just having a little fun. I allude to the fact that Mr. Steingarten thinks nothing of going halfway around the globe in search of a single arcane ingredient.

Yes, but unlike your situation, she does not know enough about me for me to have to issue blanket public denials! I hesitated to involve her in these sordid goings-on, but she is a Piemonte true believer, which is all that I require to accord her my respect and good will! And by the way, lest I forget to mention it, one can now buy fresh buffala, trucked in daily from Campania, on Corso Langhe in Alba (along with excellent Sardinian flatbread and spicy salume from Abruzzo that make Hormel pepperoni cower in shame). I know this because your fine essay recounting one man's quest for the perfect pizza outside of Napoli (the Holy Grail of the post-modern age, in my view, and the highest and best use to which your considerable skills could be put) led me, not to New Haven for a pie at Frank Pepe's, but to Neive in the Piemonte, where I converted my children's inheritance from ready cash to a wood-fired pizza oven! (Actually, it is a combo unit the size of an upper middle-class mausoleum (and to me, far more attractive) which includes a wood-fired grill vaguely reminiscent of the spit at Da Cesare, if not large enough to handle an entire baby goat.)

Roz, I simply cannot believe that you read Jeffrey's work and yet would not travel a great distance WITHIN THE SAME STATE to eat the best possible dates! Just think of the distances he has traveled and the sacrifices he has made for lesser foodstuffs!

Jeffrey, for what it's worth, the FDA has stated publicly that its new rules are not likely to be enforced before next March or April.

I share your professed love of the Piemonte (to the point of having purchased a retirement home in nearby Neive), and I blather about it regularly on the Italy board here. Have you been back lately, and if so, what exciting finds can you share with us?

Albie and Craig, I would love to take exception with your perceptions, if only for the sake of my own palate, but alas, it is not possible...

Jay, I hear you, but I am a lawyer, as it turns out, and WS is not going to be found guilty of intentionally perverting truth or fact, for the simple reason that the truth or fact at issue is a totally subjective impression of the quality of a given wine. I will offer this tidbit as well--I am certain that WS undertakes a sufficient number of ratings each year to enable them to refute any argument you might want to make about skewed ratings. If I say that they give the highest ratings to simple wines that drink well young, WS can no doubt point to a closed, tannic wine or two that received "96s" from them. The same is true of their ability to point to some highly rated wines whose producers have never advertised in the WS. Those exceptions, however, could never swallow the rule for me, the rule being that WS is there to serve its advertisers and its neophyte, relatively unsophisticated readership, not widely read, experienced wine drinkers. Although my latter point sounds rather effete, my personal experience also bears that out, in that the WS is usually the first wine publication encountered by wine newcomers, as well as the first to be disregarded by those who go on to become serious students of wine, rather than casual drinkers. I could bury the hatchet altogether with the WS if the banner on its cover read "Wine Spectator: The Magazine for Newcomers to the World of Wine" or words to that effect, or if they changed the name to "Wine Travel and Leisure"...

I believe that the question, properly phrased, is: "How many "ways" did you have your chili?"

Come on, Your Fatness, get with the program! The red-orange quality of the Italian eggs IS the big deal. The color reflects what the hen ate, i.e., polenta or something close to it. And the point that many on this thread have been trying to make is, yes, indeed, MOST Italian restaurants of any quality at all DO use those fresh eggs, and recently pressed olive oil, and whatever is fresh, in season and close to them, because that is what Italian diners expect. And generally, they accept no less. You are right about the dried Italian pasta. Now try to make some carbonara in Hackensack with those red-orange eggs and imported pancetta! Also, take a survey in, say, February of next year. Survey 25 of your friends. Ask if the olive oil they are using is freshness-dated. Ask if ever occurred to them to LOOK to see if their olive oil is freshness-dated. Go to Dean and DeLuca and see how many of their $50 bottles of olive oil bear a "November 2003" production date in February, 2004. (Not "2002/03", by the way. That stuff is over a year old.) Do not let the subtle nature of such things escape you, Steve. We all think that you are better than that...

Point 1 is absolutely correct. The quality of foodstuffs in Italy is not about Italy alone. I would starve to death amidst all of the abundance in Italy if it were not for the superior (and relatively inexpensive) Spanish jarred tuna, upon which so many classic Piemontese recipes depend. Point 3 confirms my worst suspicions about the bad bread in Italy, the subject of a recent post. It's the damn North American flour! (Just kidding!)

Did you really?! You are the only other American I know, besides me, who has eaten asino. What did you think? Personally, I could live without it. It is quite popular for large dinner parties and is served all the time at local festivals - alway on huge mounds of steaming polenta. Actually I think it is quite tasty, but a bit rich. I believe that the Mexicans have a similar festival--"Stinco de Mayo"! Or is it "Stinco de Cinco de Mayo"? "Stinco d' Asino de Cinco de Mayo"? It will come to me...

Ludja, you are absolutely right about tradition and the knowledge of regional cuisine. And while I was having some fun with the last post, a great many of the dinners that I have attended with Italian friends were not far off what I invented. I am convinced that my acceptance by Italian friends is based primarily upon my unexpected (for an American) knowledge of Piemontese foods and wines. And I guess that as an American, I am as susceptible to this as anyone else. It may not be how I select a tomato, but, God knows, that's how I wound up with my first ex-husband. In the midst of all of this high-minded, spirited debate, I did not want this gem to be overlooked! I am considering that quote for my tombstone, and even debating whether or not to change "ex-husband" to "ex-wife"!

Wow! An old guy takes 12 hours off for this decade's colonoscopy, and this thread goes to hell in a produce basket! Steve, the pasta thing is a canard if ever there was one, and in suggesting that great ingredients can be flown in from anywhere, you may have overlooked the chilling effects of cost and customs regulations. American wheat, Canadian wheat, who gives a damn. For dried pasta, it is the technique that counts, and that is what the Italians supply. Taste aside, the Italians pay close attention to the DIES they use for extruding dried pasta, in order to create a texture that will allow ragu to adhere properly to the pasta. Moreover, for fresh pasta, it's the eggs that count, and Sam Kinsey and I kicked that around earlier on this thread. The Almighty himself/herself delivers Sam's eggs fresh to Union Square each week, and Sam STILL cannot make his pasta taste like the genuine item in Italy. Your cheese and oil argument has a certain facile appeal, unless you take into account the difference between the fresher, artisanal Parmignano available in Italy, and the superb Lake Garda olive oil that you damn near have to sleep with a producer to buy versus the middle-market stuff you refer to. And frankly, pasta may have been your best point of attack. vserna said it all re: the ignorance reflected in the Ducasse list of better American products. Fennel? Honey? Zucchini? I will go on record as saying that, sure, there are some exceptional products available in America, but generally only for people like the denizens of this site, who will sacrifice entire weekends (or even weeks) to seeking them out. And while Craig makes a fair point that supermarkets and industrial products are beginning to blight the Italian landscape, it is still relatively easy to assemble the best fresh products on your dinner table. I have chosen bell peppers as a metaphor for this whole discussion, as follows: Dinner in America: Carl Betz: "Honey, these stuffed peppers are wonderful! What's so different about them?" Donna Reed: "Oh, Whole Foods had organic orange and yellow peppers imported from Holland this week. They're so beautiful, and if you cook them, they even get a little sweet. And on sale at $4.99 a pound, too!" Dinner at the Klapp Household in the Piemonte (translated from the Italian): Mr. Klapp: "Honey, these pepper rolatini stuffed with tuna, capers and mayonnaise are wonderful! Are these the first Motta (15 minutes away) peppers of the season?" Mrs. Klapp: "No, Bill, you idiot, you know that Motta gets less sun, and that we won't be seeing the first Motta peppers for a couple of weeks yet. These are the first Carmagnola (45 minutes away) peppers. Not quite peak of the season, but not bad. Actually, it might be the olive oil from Lake Garda that I used to make the mayonnaise." Dinner Guest: "Either that, or perhaps the salt-packed capers we brought you from Sicily last week. You did get fresh eggs from next door this morning, didn't you?" Mrs. Klapp: "Yes, I got the eggs from Olga this morning." Second Dinner Guest: "Absolutely the best rolatini I have had since that night at Da Guido last September. Last year was a great year for Motta peppers, and of course, Guido wouldn't think of using anything else." Third Dinner Guest: "Perhaps, but even the best Motta peppers cannot compare to the Carmagnola peppers that are harvested the week after the Carmagnola pepper festival. I still dream of the rolatini that Giuliana made from Carmagnola peppers in 1987. You remember, don't you? It was so warm during the pepper harvest, and there was no rain, but yet it was cool at night, too. Those were the sweetest, most flavorful peppers that I have ever eaten. It is true that the eggs and oil in the mayonnaise are important, and yes, the capers and tuna, too, but peppers like those come only a few times in a lifetime." And so it goes. It is both the quality of ingredients and the passion for food that make the difference in Italy, and there is a relatively small constituency for both in the U.S.

Since I am still taking heat from my wife for once having driven 90 minutes each way in the dead of the Piemontese winter for a taste of highly touted gelato, I am most empathetic with your travels and travails in search of the very best of certain foods. Nevertheless, the Mike Wallace in me wants to ask you, with his patented condescending sneer and arched eyebrow, "Oh, come on now, Mr. Steingarten! Do you really expect us to believe that you tried to bake the perfect pizza using the self-cleaning cycle of your home oven?" Actually, I cannot bring myself to do that, since I share your quest for the perfect pizza (and have long since concluded that there is no substitute for a wood-fired oven), and I personally see nothing the least bit implausible in that particular experiment. Likewise, being a lawyer myself, being critical of Type-A obsessions in others would be the proverbial pot calling the kettle anal-retentive. But you can be honest with us--do you not add a little yeast (and perhaps wheat gluten, too) to the truth now and again, in the interest of the well-told story?

Jeffrey, you are a lawyer (Harvard-educated, no less) turned food writer. That is a fact of particular interest to many of us at EGullet, as we harbor within our ranks a number of lawyers who have become professional or amateur food writers ( myself included in the latter category). (Thankfully, to my knowledge, we truck with no food professionals who are aspiring attorneys!) Please tell us how and why you made the transition. Was it something you ate?

tsquare, I take your point re: how long heirloom efforts have been around, but only as to timing. The efforts have been largely ineffectual in the U.S., in the wake of Luther Burbank and his gene-diddling progeny. How many times do we hear about heirloom products fin the media for every time we hear mention of genetically modified foods?

vserna, you have punctured my hyperbole! There may, indeed, be a few more quality American ingredients. But John has seized the spirit of my argument. Jason, all that I can say is "Nice Sangweech!". Sam, bless your soul, while I accept your "different" point, some of your "not better" arguments seemed to self-destruct before my very eyes. Sadly, there is ZERO chance that the eggs are not generally better in Italy than in Union Square. Most chickens are free-range, and most eggs organic, because most Italians do not understand the alternatives. And the chickens eat corn, which produces the miraculous red-orange yolk and contributes to a distinctly "egg-ier" taste. I, too, cannot duplicate Italian pasta dough here. And of "heirloom" tomatoes? How long do you suppose the concept of "heirloom" has existed in the U.S.? 10 years? Less? Slow Food USA appears to be the leading exponent of the concept here, and we know its roots! Most Italians have only a passing acquaintance with "heirloom", because the best strains of their produce have never been allowed to disappear. To be sure, all is not perfect. A fair amount of the produce I buy in my supermercato in Italy comes from somewhere else, especially in the winter. America does not have a monopoly on beautiful but flavorless produce. I will say, however, that I have adopted the Italian habit of eating whatever is in season, in favor of standard foods that are merely available. I will also say that Sicily's blood oranges make a much better glass of juice in the morning than my Florida oranges here!