A year of Italian cooking

[Kevin72]

Thank you, Chufi. Feel free to weigh in if you do cook any of these.

[hathor]

Ciao Kevin! Its fun to see what you are doing in Puglia, while we were studying it!

Although I was underwhelmed by the tiella we made, here's a good tip: instead of steaming the mussels open, toss them in a pan with hot olive oil and a couple of crushed garlic cloves and take them out as soon as they open. There is a problem with this method....a lot less mussels make it into the tiella!

As usual...it all looks good to me, especially the shrimp with the salt!

[Behemoth]

Is it me or is each month looking more and more like something a professional kitchen would turn out? You started out on a pretty high level, but there is really a sense of increasing confidence in how it's all laid out and photographed as you go through the pages. It's really fun watching it develop...

Also, now I am REALLY hungry.

[Kevin72]

Thank you, Behemoth. I think part of it too is that my camerawork has gotten a little more "professional" as well . . . going to Italy and taking 50 pictures a day with our digital really got me to know the ins and outs of that contraption! I look back on the earlier out of focus stuff and cringe.

Also, I'm pretty familiar with Puglia and Roman cuisines and have cooked them extensively, so there's a bit more confidence in those dishes. But I'm glad you're enjoying it.

[Kevin72]

Ciao Kevin!  Its fun to see what you are doing in Puglia, while we were studying it!

Although I was underwhelmed by the tiella we made, here's a good tip: instead of steaming the mussels open, toss them in a pan with hot olive oil and a couple of crushed garlic cloves and take them out as soon as they open.  There is a problem with this method....a lot less mussels make it into the tiella!

As usual...it all looks good to me, especially the shrimp with the salt!

←

Tiella's a very subtle, simple dish, in my experience. Outside of the Barese-style, not lots of big flavors in there, but comforting. What happened with your tiella, or is that going to be on your thread? Why does opening the mussels in olive oil and garlic lead to less mussels: do they look to good to resist eating?

[Kevin72]

Sunday night was another antipasto-style spread, centered around the dish near and dear to every Pugliese's heart, 'ncappriatta (foreground).

'Ncappriatta is nothing more than dried fava beans (get the kind that are peeled and dried, or you will have to peel them yourself once they have reconstituted), cooked in a little water and olive oil until they just fall apart from periodic stirring. Some parts of Puglia also add potatoes, but I kept it pure: no herbs or aromatics, even. Off the heat, I emulsified in more olive oil (which we bought in Puglia at Il Frantoio), then sprinkled with coarse sea salt for a textural crunch. The little red bulbs on top are not onions but lampascioni, also brought back from Puglia. Lampascioni are the root of an edible variety of hyacinth. This is one of those items that fascinated from the moment I heard about it, since quite a few authors have pointed out its bracing bitterness is an acquired taste. I got quite a bit of Pugliese street cred with the proprietors of our hotel in Ostuni when I excitedly told them I had bought a jar of lampascioni to take back with us. The woman there told me about a recipe for fritters involving raw lampascioni, but I regrettably forgot all the steps and what the batter ingredients were. Should have taken notes. At any rate, they really aren't that bitter, at least this jar isn't, and the couple times I had them in Puglia they weren't. They are pickled, so maybe the vinegar tames their bitterness. They taste like onions without the horsebreath aftereffect, and really compliment the fava puree well.

Accompanying the 'ncappriatta in the background dish are traditional sauteed green peppers and braised bitter greens (which themselves were much more bitter than the lampascioni). I've really picked up a liking to bitter greens, specifically dandelion, and crave them most in the spring. The first time I bought them I used them raw in a salad and we threw them out because it was so bitter. Since then whenever I've cooked them I blanch them first to leech out the overtly bitter edge, so I'm probably not quite there yet. For the peppers, I used poblanos per Nancy Harmon Jenkins' instructions in Flavors of Puglia as the best substitute for the type of peppers used in Puglia. When we went to Osteria del'Tempo Perso in Ostuni, my wife had the 'ncappriatta spread as her primo with all of these accompaniments, and indeed the peppers did taste almost exactly like poblanos.

Also with this dish we had "green" meatballs and more Pane di altamura.

I have to confess that the green meatballs are not at all Pugliese. There is a dish for meatballs stuffed with a little mixture of herbs in the center, called "green meatballs". The first time I mad this dish, I didn't have the recipe handy and just winged it based on my presuppositions of Pugliese cuisine, and made the meatballs from equal parts ground lamb and pork, and once they were cooked through I swirled into the pan off the heat a paste of capers, mint, parsley, and almonds. We liked it so much that it's stayed in the repertoire, even after I found out how wildly I missed the mark on the traditional recipe.

Edited May 24, 2005 by Kevin72 (log)

[Kevin72]

Last night we had a few seafood items.

The pasta was spaghetti with mussels and capers, from an intriguing recipe from Marlena di Blasi's book Regional Foods of Southern Italy. She specifically calls for the mussels to be cooked "unfettered by garlic" so that they can taste "like their sweet, turgid selves . . . " Told ya her prose gets flowery at times. But in this case, she was right (and to be fair, alot of her recipes are first class, just ignore the elaborate intros). No garlic, onions, or chilies went into the condimento: the base is capers, olives, rosemary, and fennel seed (hi, Hathor!), along with white wine and just a dish of vinegar. Very unusual, but pleasant and satisfying dish. Highly recommended.

The secondo was mackerel poached in a spicy fennel-spiked tomato sauce.

I bought all the ingredients for this dish and was on my way home before I realized that this was too much like I dish I had made when I was cooking from Rome. How to make it different? Don't use the fennel bulb, as I had done in the Roman dish, substituting sambucca instead, and to play up the sweetness, toss in some currants. Good stuff.

When I bought the mackerel at the fish counter, a woman working there asked me how I was going to cook it. "I'll poach it in a spicy tomato sauce with fennel." I replied.

"Great! Thank you! Customers never buy mackerel because they don't know what do with it. What's your name so I can tell them who came up with it?"

"Kevin".

"Mackerel alla Jeff it is, then!" She said and went on to help the next customer.

[Pan]

Sunday night was another antipasto-style spread, centered around the dish near and dear to every Pugliese's heart, 'ncappriatta (foreground).

'Ncappriatta is nothing more than dried fava beans (get the kind that are peeled and dried, or you will have to peel them yourself once they have reconstituted), cooked in a little water and olive oil until they just fall apart from periodic stirring.[...]

←

That looks pretty much just like hummus, except for the lampascioni.

[Behemoth]

Looks great, Jeff!

I grew up on and love bitter greens, but I have never been able to develop a taste for American radiccio. I love the treviso style, but I just don't understand what people are doing with the American stuff to make it palatable...grilling only seems to make it worse, braising in vinegar is about as close as I can get to making it edible -- but then it might as well be red cabbage. Maybe the kind my supermarket carries is just really bred for looks. I don't think I'm a supertaster or anything, I like other bitter greens and I love grapefruit. I should go back and read your veneto section, you were doing a lot of radiccio then, right?

edited for typo.

Edited May 24, 2005 by Behemoth (log)

[Pan]

Nadia, I like radicchio only when it's really fresh and of excellent quality. Then, I can have it raw or cooked and enjoy it.

[Behemoth]

Oh well, I try only to buy them when I notice a newly arrived batch at the grocery -- who knows how long they sit around before they get on the shelf though.

Did you know you are supposed to pick the bigger heads? Apparently smaller ones are a sign of age in a lot of supermarkets because the grocers will just peel off the rotting leaves so there is a strong chance the things have been sitting around for a month or so. Contrary to popular belief, this green does not have a long shelf life, even if it still looks good. Again I wonder, who in town is buying this stuff? Besides me a couple of times, I mean.

I guess I will just stick with the mediocre endive and escarole until the farmer's market opens. (Thank God, next week -- I am so burnt out on supermarket produce!)

[Pan]

I really couldn't help you in picking out really high-quality radicchio, as I don't like it enough to buy it for its own sake, but I've had some really good stuff in some Italian restaurants that used it as part of a salad, etc. (I'm actually thinking of one place in particular, Li'l Frankie's, just about 6 blocks from my apartment.)

I'm with you on endives, though; those things are great!

[Kevin72]

That looks pretty much just like hummus, except for the lampascioni.

←

Hmm, maybe that's why I've been known to serve this with pita other times I've made it . . .

[Kevin72]

Looks great, Jeff! 

I grew up on and love bitter greens, but I have never been able to develop a taste for American radiccio. I love the treviso style, but I just don't understand what people are doing with the American stuff to make it palatable...grilling only seems to make it worse, braising in vinegar is about as close as I can get to making it edible -- but then it might as well be red cabbage. Maybe the kind my supermarket carries is just really bred for looks. I don't think I'm a supertaster or anything, I like other bitter greens and I love grapefruit. I should go back and read your veneto section, you were doing a lot of radiccio then, right?

edited for typo.

←

I have to agree with you. Sitting down to a plate of raw radicchio salad is way too bitter even for me. When I did radicchio for the Veneto, it was slivered fine and used as a garnish, almost like an herb, or cooked. And, acid really does seem to cut the bitter quality more (*remembers High School Chemistry*), and cooking it for a long time helps get rid of its bitter edge as well. I wonder if it's as bitter in Italy. That makes sense that our varieties might be older and more "concentrated". The bigger, elongated heads are $6 a pop down here, so I never buy them.

[Kevin72]

Wednesday night I made focaccia with a filling of caramelized leeks, cod, and olives.

Yep, another dialectical variation: as opposed to the more common conception of a flatbread that people have when you use the word "focaccia", in Puglia it is more like what in America we think of as a calzone. In fact in Puglia there is also a similar item called a "scalcione", but it is only applied to a very specific dough recipe and the filling can only be caramelized leeks and anchovies, according to Jenkins.

Last night I made an interesting variation on the classic eggplant parmesan, using artichokes instead of eggplant.

I'd always wanted to make this dish since I first saw it: eggplant parmesan is one of my wife's favorite dishes, and artichokes are one of our favorite vegetables, so it seemed a natural. The artichokes are battered and fried (I used again a paste of egg white, water, flour, and pecorino) then layered with tomato sauce, fiore di latte, and parmigiano cheese. Highly addictive, in fact we ate it all up.

Edit: Got ingredients in focaccia wrong.

Edited May 28, 2005 by Kevin72 (log)

[albiston]

The artichoke parmigiana sounds incredibly inviting.

That's one parmigiana twist I hadn't tried yet. I've had the classic zucchini one and one with chard stems before, both also delicious. So I'm wondering: any other takes on the dish out there?

[Kevin72]

Didn't know about the chard variation, but the zucchini version brings back foggy memories of running across it back when I hated it. I always feel bad when I throw out the chard stalks, but the couple of times I've saved them "for later use" I'm tossing out a bag full of a slimey substance from my veggie drawer a few weeks later . . .

Edit: And these were made with the new purple artichokes that have finally made their way to Dallas this year. Both of our local gourmet chains started carrying them. Man I wish people would get into aritchokes more . . .

Edited May 27, 2005 by Kevin72 (log)

[Kevin72]

One more thing Alberto, or anyone familiar with the language: is it proper to call it eggplant (or whatever vegetable) parmigiano or parmesan? I switch back and forth. The only reason I ask is that in Jenkins' book, she calls everything by its proper Italian name, but then does in fact call this dish "parmesan", leading me to wonder if such a spelling has been accepted in Italian vernacular.

[albiston]

Never heard anyone call the dish "parmesan" to be honest. It might be so in a specific dialect, but none that I know of I must admit.

BTW regarding the zucchini variation: I like the eggplant version better, but if you have zucchini that actually taste of something it's a nice change.

I perfectly know what you mean with the "for later" story . For the parmigiana I had the stalks where coated in batter and fried. Another nice thing to do with the stalks is to braise them like you would do with Belgian endive. OK it doesn't taste of much, but I hate to throw stuff away.

BTW, do you always coat the eggplant with batter? That's what I do too, at least when my wife lets me , but I know of many who don't (my mom for one). I was just wondering what other people do.

[Kevin72]

So probably parmesan is an english translation. Here in the US we do call parmigiano parmesan, or did until the real cheese became much more readily available, but the name "parmesan" for dishes cooked this way always stayed the same.

Actually, I usually don't batter or fry the eggplant for parmigiano ( ) dishes. A vegetarian cookbook I have has a recipe to grill them instead, which I like a lot more. With these I knew I needed to do a pre-cook so frying became more of a necessity, though I considered blanching in hot water first.

Edit: And with the Swiss Chard stalks, again, here's where shoddy produce in Dallas comes into play. Had the stalks left over once and thought I was really clever and made a salad out of them with some apples. They were inedible: tough, stringy, unpleasantly tart and bland. I do know of a recipe (Marcella, I think) where you layer them with besciamella and bake them, but then of course I'd have the leaves left over and not know what to do with them instead!

Edited May 27, 2005 by Kevin72 (log)

[M. Lucia]

Sunday night was another antipasto-style spread, centered around the dish near and dear to every Pugliese's heart, 'ncappriatta (foreground).

←

This looks amazing. Could it be because I adore anything made with any kind of fava bean?

I'm learning all the time...

[Kevin72]

Have you ever tried dried fava beans? Very different from fresh. Earthy and homey and comforting. But be sure to get the peeled dried fava beans (they'll be yellowish colored, those with the peels will be brown) or they'll never fall apart as they need to for this dish. First time I made this I made that mistake and got impatient when it wasn't coming apart and pureed it in a blender, so the whole thing had the rough skins in it. Completely different flavor as well.

[Kevin72]

Saturday night's feast with my family:

Antipasto: Taralli

Secondo: "Grigliata mista"

Contorni: Tiella of zucchini and potatoes; stewed artichokes and edamame

Dolce: Lemon tart

Taralli are Pugliese-type pretzel where after shaping, the dough is boiled, then baked. After the first rise, I split the dough recipe in half, and mixed fennel seeds in one half, and lots of black pepper in the second half. They can be eaten as-is, or dipped in wine for a snack. When Mario Batali made them on his show, he did an interesting way of serving them where they are dipped in olive oil, then vinegar, coarse sea salt, or caccio cheese, which is also how I did it.

I had made these a few days in advance and then brought them with us when we went to Austin for the family weekend. Initially, they were incredibly tough when I sampled them. I tossed them in a hot oven to refresh them a little and dry them out a bit, thinking that maybe they had gone stale? Now they were rock-hard and had to be broken up to be eaten. Embarassing. Good flavors but just not pleasant eating. I've made them before and served them that day and this was not a problem then, so I guess maybe they went stale sitting out? And I know part of the appeal is that they keep and "refresh" in some wine, but I can't imagine this was the goal.

The "grigliata mista" (as usual, apologies for mauling of spelling or terminology) is a "mixed grill" of assorted meats. Naturally this is not unique to Puglia, but a couple of authors and personal experience there have really captured my imagination for this dish. In Culinaria: Italy, there is a section on a couple of butcher brothers in the town of Martina Franca that serve various lamb and sheep innards wrapped in caul fat or intestinal casings that are then skewered and roasted in a large brick oven in the back of their store. Similarly, in Flavors of Puglia, Nancy Harmon Jenkins begins the meat chapter with a mouthwatering account of a visit to a butcher/osteria in the town of Sammichele. They went to the butcher first and picked out several meats (veal sausages, pork sausages, pork chops, and more of the lamb innard packets) under his watchful eye, then directed downstairs to a modest osteria where his assistant grilled everything up and served it to them only on butcher paper to eat off the table. This was particularly captivating to me since it is similar to the serving style of many of the barbecue temples we have in Central Texas.

So I decided this would be the centerpiece. I skipped out on doing the lamb innards (though briefly considered doing chicken livers wrapped in pancetta but figured it wouldn't fly), and went with pork chops, lamb chops, and handmade spicy sausage patties made of lamb and pork.

Before I get into trouble with the grilling police for Insufficient Grill Marks on the pork chops, let me say that this was a pretty temperamental grill. I had used it before and reduced a glorious four pound Fiorentina cut of porterhouse to a charcoal briquette in ten minutes, so I was leary and kept the heat down. All the meats turned out good, but the pork chops were a little too dry for my tastes after so much tinkering trying to get a better crust on them.

For contorni I did another tiella, this one of potatoes, zucchini, and olives:

and a braise of artichokes (more of those lovely purple artichokes!) and favas (pssst! they're soybeans) braised with bay leaves and onion.

Dessert was a lemon tart.

The lemon was basically a lemon curd (lemon zest, juice, yolks and sugar thickened in a double boiler) lightened by mixing in some beaten egg whites. The crust was standard pasta frolla variety with some almond paste and a little Amaretto.

Edit: I brought with us some Primitivo "dolce" di Manduria that we had purchased on our Puglia trip. We tried it first as a table wine with the meal, but found it way too sweet. After dinner, though, it was perfect.

Edited June 1, 2005 by Kevin72 (log)

[Kevin72]

Monday night I did ciambotta, a stew of vegetables and fish.

"Wait, Kevin, didn't you do something called ciambotta already, and say it was a vegetable stew?"

Well, yes, and again, here's micro-regional dialect (and generations of feuds) at play. In Bari and its surrounding province, this dish is what is meant by ciambotta. Southwards though, it is the stew of vegetables.

Also, this is more traditionally a condimento for spaghetti. But I knew pasta would be involved the next night, and we wanted something a little lighter after such a gutbuster weekend, so it was served more as a soup-type dish, garnished with large croutons of bread that had been fried (so much for "lighter" I guess . . . ).

Edit: Typing spaz.

Edited June 1, 2005 by Kevin72 (log)

[albiston]

Well, yes, and again, here's micro-regional dialect (and generations of feuds) at play.  In Bari and its surrounding province, this dish is what is meant by ciambotta.  Southwards though, it is the stew of vegetables.

←

In Naples it is a vegetable stew too, only it is often called cianfotta. Aren't Italian dialects fun ?