albie

Of course, the coarse-ground black pepper is the basis for this dish's name, since they resemble flecks of coal. One method of treating the eggs is to temper them with a bit of the pasta water before dressing the dish. I recall that Batali sets an unbroker yolk on the past in his presentation.

It might be useful to check back on the Food TV website, as Alton Brown recently devoted a half-hour to the subject.

Giuliano Bugialli and Michele Scicolone, among others, are major contributors to the genre.

So I see that Il Mulino gets a 27 food rating; it's always puzzled me that Zagat lionize the place, yet it seems to never elicit much comment, much less praise from anyone else. Having eaten there twice-- the second time to determine whether my disappintment over the first experience was an anomaly -- I fail to see the justification for so high a rating. Granted, there's a definite commitment to quality in the produce/ingredients and the portions are robust; but the the menu is for the most part unimaginative --a lackluster litany of standard Italian-Italian-American standbys-- all decently executed but with no discernible inclination to innovate or to satisfy the public's current fascination with exploring authenticity and regionality in Italian food. Add to that the noisy, overcrowded ambience and exorbitant prices, it's a mystery to me that such a place can thrive, much less survive, in a city that boasts such alternatives as Babbo, Felidia, San Domenico, San Pietro, L'Impero, etc. etc.

CK's Steakhouse in the Renaissance Hotel near the Meadowlands is an excellent steakhouse, but the real star here is the world-class wine list. It's owner, developer Charles Klatskin, is one of the country's great wine aficinados.

How about The Saddle River Inn?

I see where Sgnr. Mangieri, who had quite a local cult following but somehow managed to stay under the radar of most pizza fanatics, is going to open a place in NYC sometime in October. He is a native of Naples and he replicates exactly the Neapolitan tradtion he learned as an apprentice at some of Naples most renowned pizzerie.

The meatballs I grew up on were very close to Batali's (naturally since I'm of Campanian extraction); in our case, a bit of coarsely chopped raisins were added to the mix, along with the pine nuts.

You'll find Chris, the former chef/owner of Les Copains, doing business as Mezzaluna, across the street on Witherspoon.

In Jackson, of all places, a really creditable brick-oven pizzeria -- The Green Lantern -- has opened. (in the Brookwood Plaza). And, although it's not the easiest to find, as well as being closed more often than it's open, Una Pizza Napoletana on Route 35 in Point Pleasant Beach is, I would venture to say, the one place (maybe in the country) that replicates the true Neapolitan pizza (which to many folks raised on Italian-American variants, may not be to their taste).

I've been intriqued by ads recommending the Jaccard Meat Tenderizer, in which a series of pins set in rows purports to tenderize by piercing the meat. Inasmuch as so many experts advise the use of tongs over forks precisely because the latter causes the loss of flavorful, moistening juices, I'm skeptical as to whether piercing by any method may be beneficial or desirable as an alternative to pounding meat -- (I'm totally against the use of commercial tenderizers). Have you any experience or comments? These would be greatly appreciated.

So Arthur's been asked to compromise his ``integrity as a journalist?" He is immensely knowledgeable, but frankly it was often hard to distinguish where the commercials left off and his own personal remarks began. That was the program's biggest-- maybe only -- flaw.

What were the reigning Italian eateries back then? Romeo Salta? Orsinis? The Italian Pavilion? Barbetta? It seems that although NYC may have more Italians than Rome, Manhattan was pretty much of a culinary desert for the genre before Lidia and Tony May? Anyone recall a French place named Henri V? It's hard to believe that Le Veau d'Or was ever rated that highly.. I used to love the bistros that lined W 46th's Restaurant Row in those days.. joints like A la Fourchette, Chez Cardinale (prop. Gino Mularoni), Jack's Epicure....again, does anyone remember these places?

It's lost its way many years ago, and is a cariacature of what it was. It seems that itinerant purveyors of overpriced, mediocre food vastly outnumber the locals, and the food plays to the lowest stereotypes of what Americans consider to be ``Italian." For me, it's only DiPalo, Alleva and maybe Ferrara's that offer any reason to go there; the Bronx's Arthur Avenue, Brooklyn's Carroll Gardens and 18th Avenue, and even parts of Greenwich Village (west around Bleecker/Cornelia and east around First Avenue) are more deserving of the description.

``Lobster tails" are another example of an Italian-American hybrid, unknown in Italy, but an amalgamation of sfogliatelle pastry (a puff pastry made with lard, I believe) and stuffed with a ricotta-based cannoli-type filling.

Incredible... as I slog my way through these pizza threads here, I marvel over the volume of words and depth of passions inspired by, and devoted to, this humble, elemental, universally adored product of peasants! Sublime simplicity; simply sublime .... that's pizza.

Bravi Rob@Nice, Albiston! It gives me the shivers to comtemplate the emergence of a celebrity chef cult in Italy; from north to south, simplicity, integrity and unyielding commitment to the resourceful use of the best in local produce are the foundations of Italian cuisine. I think Batali hit the nail on the head when he said ``the secret to Italian cooking is that there are no secrets!" Nothing excites me more than happening upon an unprepossesing trattoria in an obscure hamlet in Italy, with mamma and daugthers in the kitchen, pappa in charge of the front the the house and the sons waiting the tables... no linen, gueridons or candelabra anywhere in sight and no ``menu turistico" in five languages on the windows.

Tempering: a technique designed to add a raw egg to a liquid, such as both or stock so as to avoid curdling/scrambling. Basically on stirs the liquid briskly with a whisk while slowly but steadily pouring a beaten egg.

There are several copies of Vincent Price's cookbook on eBay, generally priced at $50-$70.

Fresh pasta, usually tagliatelle or fettuccine (for the life of me I can't detact any difference between the two) alla bolognese is generally well-made and well represented in most of NYC's better Italian restaurants. Two of the best versions I've had recently were at Bravo Gianni on East 63rd and at Via Emilia, on Park Ave. South,

Has anyone mentioned Via Emilia, on Park Avenue South between 19th and 20th, and virtually next door to Patria? Scruffy, cash-only, no reservations, cheap and with some of the freshest, most authentic homemade pastas in the city. Its lasagne and tortelloni are particularly noteworthy.

...... and for divina: I recall in Saveur magazine they once profiled a character, ``Mario, il trippaio della Porta Romana." Know him?

Hi Lucy/bleudauvergne, I generally slice up the tripe after the first simmering, although there have been times when I purchased the tripe pre-cut into strips; it seems to work well; I usually use Turkish bay leaves since they're the most readily available to me; and the canellini beans are medium-small white beans (I've also used the larger cranberry beans-- the type the Italians call ``borlotti" ). best, albie

Nullo, here's one suggestion... Basic Tomato Sauce (with options marked by asterisk*) ¼ cup extra virgin olive oil (1 tablespoon oil variation) 1½ cups Spanish onion, diced about ¼” *One medium carrot, diced about ¼” *One medium red bell pepper, diced about ¼” Two 28-ounce cans of whole peeled tomatoes. ½ cup dry white wine, preferably unoaked *2 tablespoons concentrated tomato paste, imported in tubes *2 tablespoons (capfuls) of balsamic vinegar 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped 3-4 tablespoons fresh herbs, chopped (my favorites are basil and flat-leaf parsley, but thyme, marjoram, rosemary, and oregano are also used ) salt and fresh-ground black pepper, to taste In a dutch oven (heavy-bottomed, lidded, enameled, non-reactive cast iron pot, i.e. Le Creuset) or a saucepan of about six-quart capacity, begin by combining the onion, garlic and, if used, the similarly diced carrots and bell pepper with the olive oil, salt and pepper. Sauté these on medium-low heat for about ten minutes, until soft and the onions are pale but translucent. If using the tomato paste, turn up the heat that this point and stir the paste into the sautéed veggies until it cooks slightly; if necessary deglaze the pan, loosening and stuck-down bits of flavor with a wooden spoon or spatula, adding the optional balsamic vinegar at this point, any perhaps even a splash of the optional wine or a couple tablespoons of water to help out. At this point, pull the pot off the heat as you decide on the sauce’s texture. Like it silky smooth? If you want it really chunky texture, then simply add the tomatoes to the pot after having squished them by hand as finely—or as coarsely -- as you like. Like it silky smooth? Then puree a mixture of veggies and the canned tomatoes in several moderate batches in a blender or food processor, being careful not to overload as it can get messy. We’ve also learned that adding a bit of the optional wine, or a few drops of water can serve to lighten the mixture and facilitate the blending. Whatever its texture, we now get it all into the pot, add the wine (if desired) and simmer at medium-low heat, partially covered for at least 20 minutes. At this point we taste for salt and pepper, adjust if necessary, mix in our fresh herbs and decide whether to shut it down or simmer for a few minutes longer.

I love tripe, and never have found it too difficult to prepare. Felida, Babbo and Lupa are three places in New York that have outstanding examples on the menu. My favorite homemade preparation is with beans. Once parboiled for about an hour, with some aromactic vegetables and bay leaves. I cut it into 2-inch by 1/4 inch strips, add them to a Dutch Oven (mine's a Le Creuset) in which I've sauted a finely minced mirepoix in olive oil almost to the point of caramelization and deglazed with a bit of white wine vinegar, tossed in a small split pig's foot, a 14-ounce can of Italian tomatoes, 5 or six bay leaves, about two cups of pre-soaked cannelini beans and enough liquid (combination of chicken stock and white wine) to cover by a bit less than one inch, and then simmer at moderate-low heat for almost two hours, occasionally stirring and testing for salt and pepper. Some folks like to add a bit of grated nutmeg, a pinch of cinnamon and/or a clove or two. Alternately, one might omit the beans and at the very end stir in a cup or two of frozen peas.