Aroma Cucina

The Sensual Seduction of Fall

Mother Nature is giving us one last sensory overload before the dark and quiet of winter.  Colors are vibrant but tinged with decay. The air carries the scent of earth and smoke; the smell of sunlight and freshness is relegated to the back of the closet along with t-shirts and sandals.

Our Umbrian fall smells of abundance. Chestnuts, mushrooms, truffles, grapes, fresh olive oil, the last bits of the orto, the calming, restful smell of the heavy morning mists all beg you to slow down and get ready for winter.

It also means it’s time for us to go back to NY. I’m saving up all these smells so I have something to remember when we go back.

The prickly smell of wood smoke, that little tickle it makes in the back of the throat, this defines the smell of Montone once the days are cool and the nights long. It’s what people talk about when they remember Montone, ringing bells and wood smoke.  Some people still heat their houses and water with wood fires because they never joined the community gas line when it was put in, so we still need our wood cutters. The thunderous rattle of a tractor load of wood being dumped in front of Carla’s house is a famliar sound in town.

When I open the bottle that holds our freshly pressed olive oil, I’m back in the olive grove, I’m back at the mill inhaling that strangely euphoric smell. We were at the mill last week, and I swear that smell releases endorphins. Everyone is happy, the workers are smiling, the people waiting are excited to get their oil, there is a contagion of happiness and expectation.



Of course there is the earthy, sexy, urgent smell of truffles. Citta di Castello’s annual “Tartufi Bianchi”, “White Truffles” festival is an olfactory bacchanal. Greedy eyes and noses suck up the wanton wafts of truffle drenched air that linger and seduce as you walk by. “Hurry up, smell me, I’m perfect right now, eat me tonight.” You know the temptress truffle is right, and you empty your wallet and bring her home.


Building a fire and grilling meat seems like the proper way to welcome guests to dinner.  We’re drenching grilled bread with our fresh, bright, green olive oil, It’s time for sipping new wines, and then going back to drinking an aged wine because how much youth can one tolerate? 


My finger tips are blackened from cracking open roasted chestnuts, and cleaning fall artichokes; Jeff’s fingers are rough and grubby from cleaning out the orto.

I suppose it really is time for us to clean up, put on our fancy clothes and head back to city life. Of course, Raffaello is already packed and ready.
Viva la differenza!

Eating Alberto Il Magnifico: from beak to tail.

Alberto Il Magnifico was a capon, raised with loving care and surrounded by our growing appetites.
In case you are wondering, a capon is a castrated rooster. According to Wiki, the Romans ‘invented‘ capons as a way to get around grain rationing for chickens. Those crafty Romans would snip the little testicles off their roosters, feed them grain and they would grow to be twice the size of a chicken.  And here is your word for the day: caponization. Yup, that means snipping off of the balls. Now, use it in a sentence and report back.

Our friend Paddy struck a deal with me one extremely hot evening in July: he would raise the capons, and I would cook them. Seeing as how I was getting the far better part of this deal, we shook hands and Paddy raised Alberto from scruffy chick to Il Magnifco status.

Last week, the phone call came: it was time for Alberto to serve a higher purpose.
Put sentimentality aside for the moment. It costs money and time to raise birds; it’s been raised to be eaten, and there comes a time when the investment must pay off. If you are of the sentimental type, don’t name the animal. We cried for weeks when it was time for Cream Puff the bull to be made into short ribs.


Alberto was dispatched quickly with one shot, so there was no fear, anxiety or adrenaline rushing through his body. Paddy’s beautiful wife Tita did the plucking, and I must say, she is a master plucker. Not a stray pin feather to be found. (Jay..are you paying attention?)

Alberto was handed off to us in a plastic bag in a parking lot. What an ignoble setting for such a magnificent bird; he should have come to us on a silver platter surrounded by cooing doves who spoke of him in soft tones. Actually the plastic bag worked just fine because we’d never be able to fit a covy of doves into the trunk of my little roadster. In fact, poor Alberto had to ride home wedged in the front seat between my legs because he couldn’t fit in the trunk.

Paddy and I had gone back and forth on how to roast him, and we finally settled on a Renaissance-inspired glaze of honey and spices with a shot of whiskey.

Alberto was given a soothing brine bath for about two hours to let the salt do its magic and seal in the juices. I stuffed the cavity with a small, sweet orange and bunches of thyme, rosemary and sage from our garden. The skin was generously salted and Alberto was ready for roasting.

In the meantime I roasted some potatoes, made a fennel gratin, a large green salad and heaps of artichokes, so that Alberto would have plenty of company on the dinner table.

About half an hour before Alberto was done, I began painting him in 10 minute intervals with the glaze until his skin turned a dark, crackling mahogany color.

There were many glasses of wine drunk in his honor and we still sing his praises.
His bones were turned into broth, the left over scraps of meat were fed to our appreciative feline friends Niccolino and Raffaello.

Since then we’ve had capon broth risotto, and a most outstanding tortellini in capon broth, the spices from the glaze still wafting through the soup in a tantalizing way.

Spiced Honey Glaze
1/2 cup honey
1/4 teaspoon strong cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon all spice
a few scrapes of nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon powdered ginger or a few slices of fresh ginger
4-5 juniper berries
1 chili pepper
1 shot whiskey

Over low heat, melt the honey and add the spices and chili pepper, let simmer for 5-10 minutes. Add the whiskey and let simmer for another few minutes until the glaze is dark and thick.

Let the bird roast until nearly done and then pull it from the oven and paint the glaze over the entire bird. Repeat two or three times until you have a dark crust on the bird.

Alberto, you were and always will be Il Magnifico!

Rustic Sausage & Peppers

Some flavor combinations are classic; and sausage and peppers fall into that category.

Remember the old cartoons where the vapor would rise from the dish,  and then beckon you to eat? That’s what happens when you saute peppers and sausage.

This dish is perfect just as the weather turns cool, and the last of the tomatoes are still on the vine.

Keep this dish simple, ok? Just be sure to use some good, fresh Italian sausage.

Rustic Sausage & Peppers
4-5 links of sausage, chopped into bite size pieces
1 ripe red pepper, chopped into bite size pieces
1 medium onion, thinly sliced
2-3 cloves of garlic, chopped
1 handful of chopped bitter greens like spinach or chard
1 ripe, red tomato, coarsely chopped
1 good glug of red wine

In a deep, flat bottomed frying pan, with just a tiny bit of olive oil, over medium heat, begin browning the sausage.
When the sausage has begun to brown, add the onions and peppers and saute until they are soft and little bit caramelized.
Now add the garlic and greens, the glug of wine and cover the pan.
Cook until the sausage is done. About 10 minutes
Taste and add salt as needed. Umbrian style sausages can be extremely salty so I never add salt until this stage.
Right before serving, toss in the raw, red tomatoes and mix thoroughly. Adding the tomatoes this late in the process will give them a texture contrast with the rest of the dish.
If you feel like it, add a tiny glug of red wine vinegar to the dish to give it a little boost.

Serve a big, hearty red wine and a hunk of bread with your sausage and peppers and relish a moment of good, honest, simple food.

Buon apetito!

Creamy Red Onion Soup, Truffles Optional

It’s soup season here in Umbria. Chilly days, wind and rain all mean it’s time to get out the soup pot.
Soup doesn’t have to be a long drawn out, multi-hour event.  You can make this creamy red onion soup in about half an hour. That’s about the time it takes for you to realize you are hungry and to have soup in your bowl.

Ingredients
2 large red onions, peeled and roughly chopped
1 small carrot, peeled and roughly chopped
1 celery stock, roughly chopped
1 bullion cube (optional)
2 T heavy cream
1 t truffle oil
salt, pepper, olive oil

Place the vegetables in your soup pot with a small amount of olive oil.
Lightly brown the vegetables. You want to see a little bit of caramelization on the onions and carrots.
Add 3-4 cups of water and simmer gently until the vegetables are soft (about 20 minutes...less time if you chop the vegetables smaller).

Puree the soup until it is super smooth.
Return to the heat and add the heavy cream.
Let the soup come to a light simmer. 
Add a bit of truffle oil right before serving.

(OK, I confess. I didn’t use truffle oil. I used truffle butter; but outside of truffle areas, it’s hard to find. I know truffle oil is synthetic, but it’s a kitchen secret, just between us.)

Easy-peasy delicious, warm-up-the-body soup!

I served this soup with parmigiana crisps because they are tasty and super easy-peasy!

Preheat the oven to 180C/350F.
Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. 
In a small bowl combine the grated cheese with a pinch of cayenne pepper and smoked paprika powder.
Make a few mounds of the grated cheese on the baking sheet and flatten them out.
Place in the oven until the cheese is melted and bubbly, about 2-4 minutes.
Remove the crisps from the oven, but don’t try to move them off the sheet for a minute or two because they’ll fall apart.
You can also take them off the sheet and mold them into shapes while they are still soft. It’s always fun to play with your food.

Buon apetito!

Olio Novello Time is Here! 'Tis the season for fresh olive oil!

It’s olive picking time in Umbria. Olive picking, followed by pressing is fragrantly joyous; there is something comforting about knowing you will have oil. It means there will be food on the table and it will be good.

This past weekend, a small group of us were invited by Mario Ciampetti of Hispellum, Terre Rosse to participate in an olive oil weekend in Spello, Umbria. It was an eye-opeining experience to hear first hand why Mario is so committed and passionate about his particular olive oil.  Mario only grows and produces the ‘moraiolo’ olive, that is indigenous to Umbria. It’s a small olive, with a big pit, and big flavor.  He grows his olives under biodynamic conditions and believes that his oil speaks directly and passionately about where it comes from.

He is right. His oil is unlike any oil I’ve tasted before.  It is unique. The freshly pressed oil is an amazing bright emerald green color. When I first saw it on bread, I thought the bread had pesto on it, but it was just the oil. The initial flavor hints of artichoke leaves, and this eventually gives way to a spiciness that leaves a tickle in the throat.

Sunday morning Mario brought us to his olive grove to do a little olive picking. His experienced workers had already spread the nets on the ground. Thanks god, because net management is really a pain. It’s an ongoing battle to lay the nets so there are no holes or places for the olives to escape, and so you can channel those runaway olives to stream downhill into the crates.

The guys all got to use the ‘shaky’ machines to do their harvesting. Picture a long handled, long-tined pitchfork that does very fast 90 degree turns and literally shakes the olives out of the trees.
The girls were given small hand rakes to comb the lower hanging olives out of the trees.  That worked for me, it was a much quieter and more peaceful experience than going Olive Busting!

Olive picking is communal. My guess is that it has always been communal just by the nature of needing lots of olives, all picked at the same time. It feels like you are tapping into something mystical and eternal.

After picking our 143 kilos of olives, we headed down to the mill. The machinery or layout may change from mill to mill, but the process is essentially the same. Separate out the leaves and twigs. Wash the olives. Mash the olives into a paste, extracting the pits. Then a whirl around in a centrifuge to separate the water from the oil, and voila....extra virgin olive oil!  It’s a little more complex than that, and temperatures need to be carefully monitored, but that’s the basics.

I’ve said this before, but it is high time that chefs and cooks learn more about the olives in their olive oil. There are huge flavor differences from one variety of olive to another; from one region to another.
As part of the weekend experience, we had a guided tasting where we compared the Umbrian Terre Rosse oil to a Sicilian oil. It’s like the difference between tasting a merlot and a chardonnay...different planets, different reasons for using one or the other.

If you’ve read this far, you care about food.
So here’s your homework assignment...go out and taste olive oils. Pour a little bit into a cup, warm the cup with your hand. Then inhale deeply, take a sip, and bring some air into your mouth. Pay attention to what is going on in your mouth.  Now start imagining what dishes would work best with that flavor.

And if you are fortunate enough to find Terre Rosse olive oil..snap it up! You won’t be sorry..it speaks of wind swept hilltops, rocky soil, hot summers and cold winters. And you won’t be able to find this particular flavor anywhere else.

Grazie mille, Mario per un weekend incredibile!

Azienda Agraria Hispellum
Via Vitale Rosi 42, 06038 Spello (Pg) Umbria IT - Tel/Fax (+39) 0742 302274 - info@hispellum.com