Aroma Cucina

Fall Touches Montone

  “I am a camera with its shutter open, quite passive, recording, not thinking.” –Christopher Isherwood, Goodbye to Berlin. 

My camera went on the fritz and had to go to the hospital. I found I didn’t want to blog without my camera; it’s as if I’ve lost my ability to see.  The camera isn’t really passive, the camera operator chooses what is shown, how it shown, what tale the photo should tell.

To share Montone life with you, I’ll have to tell my tale with words and maybe some old photos. 

As always, Italian life is dominated by the weather. Last week, a fresh breeze blew in and the general consensus was that summer was over. Michele, our Aries barman extraordinare, was convinced the tide had turned. Then it got hot again, and summer returned like a snarling, angry old man eager to take one last swipe and show us his burning fury. This turned into oppressive, steamy heat that made the walls of our house feel like an incubator, a warming oven. The cat took to laying on the stone steps, his eyes squeezed shut, you could see him willing summer to leave and be gone.

 

The leaves on the trees have turned withered and brown. I don’t think there will be a glorious fall showing of colors; there is too much crispy brown already showing in the hills.  The intense heat of the past few weeks has done its damage.  Bunches of grapes are hanging on the vine with uneven ripening: withered raisins at the top, a few ripe grapes and some still budding green, all on the same bunch.  There was a severe hailstorm in Friuli and word is that some of the vineyards lost 100% of their grapes.

 

The olive trees are eternal; they don’t seem to be as bothered by heat. When you are a couple of hundred years old, what’s one hot summer?

I did a tomato harvest this morning. The weather looks threatening and I didn’t want to lose ripe tomatoes to wind and rain.  The plants have that withered look, as if they are ready to give up the ghost. They didn't look like that a few days ago. Now there are as many brown leaves as there are green leaves.

The fennel stalks are tall and yellow and full of pollen and flavor. It’s time to bring them in and dry them. One of the mysteries of life is why this essential seasoning is so under-used in the States. Fennel and bay make seafood sing. Fennel and rosemary make a roast chicken or a guinea fowl finger-licking good.  Fennel and pork were made for each other.

 

Looks like we’ll have another round of beets pretty soon, and I’m hoping our two adorable cantaloupes will actually grow up to be at least the size of a soft ball before we eat them.

 

The soil in our ancient orto is tired and we have endless debates and discussions about how to nourish it. My guess is that this discussion about our little orto has been going on since about the 12^th century.

 

There is the tiniest whiff of cool fall air in the morning and just that little tinge of fall is making me hungry for truffles. I know they are out there...and I can’t wait.

 

Happy Labor Day to all our friends and family in the States! Enjoy! BBQ! And be happy!

 

Kitchen Garden Gazpacho

Happy World Kitchen Garden Day! 
Here’s hoping that all our family, friends and everyone else can ride out Hurricane Irene with not too much damage.

Is there a more appropriate way to celebrate International Kitchen Garden day than by making a Garden Gazpacho? I don’t think so!

Our tomato plants never grew very high this year, but they have been yielding a ton of delicious fruit.  We’ve got all shapes, sizes and flavors out there, and that’s plenty to choose from when you want make a gazpacho.

Gazpacho is another one of those unclassifiable dishes; everyone has a version. If we can all agree that gazpacho is a pureed salad, served cold, then no one needs to quibble about what an ‘authentic’ gazpacho should be.

This version is a riff off that Ancona baccala dish we were served in Portonovo. Baccala,  salt-cured cod fish, is delicious teamed up with tomatoes and olives, so it made sense to feature a little baccala in the gazpacho.

Garden Gazpacho with Crisped Baccala
Ingredients:
1 small piece of skinned, and soaked baccala, about 6 oz
1 basket of tomatoes, about 1 lb.
2-4 small green and red peppers
1 small red onion
2 cloves of garlic
1 peeled carrot
2 stalks of celery
Salt, pepper, Olive Oil, Balsamic Vinegar

For garnish:
2 T thinly sliced red and green peppers
2 T pitted and thinly sliced black olives


Instructions:
Clean and chop the tomatoes and place in a bowl. Lightly salt the tomatoes, stir and let stand for 1 hour.
After an hour, when the tomatoes have softened and given up some of their juice, pass them through the food mill on a fine setting so that the pulp of the tomato passes through, but all seeds and skins remain behind. Discard the seeds and skins.

Roughly chop the peppers, onion, garlic, carrot and celery, and put them in the blender. Add the tomato puree, add a few tablespoons of olive oil. Taste..and add salt and pepper as needed and a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar. 

Pour the soup into a container and chill until it’s time to serve.

I’ve gone native...Italians don’t like freezing cold anything unless it’s gelato.
Even water is negotiable; beyond determining if your dinner partners like still or bubbly water, you then have to determine if they would like it ‘fresca’ or ‘ambiente’.  In Italy, just ordering water can require the negotiating skills of Henry Kissinger.

So, I didn’t actually put the gazpacho in the fridge, just in a cool, dark part of the kitchen. I think the flavors are more mellow and expansive if the soup isn’t served very cold. But, that’s just me...you serve the soup the way you like it.

To serve:
Crumble the cleaned, soaked, ready to be cooked baccala and saute in olive oil until there is some brownage and crispy edges.
Salted baccala needs to be soaked for 6 hours or even over night to remove the salt. If I don’t have much time, I’ll soak it for at least 4-6 hours with frequent changes of water. Then give the cod fillet a very quick poach in boiling water to remove the remaining salt.
It’s easier to add a little salt than to try and deal with excessive curing salt.

Mound the crisped baccala in the center of the plate, scatter the shreds of pepper and olive around the bowl, and gently pour the gazpacho into the bowl. 
Now mangia and enjoy the taste of your garden!

Buon Appetito!

Authentic Montone Mexican

What does ‘authentic’ mean? People exult in finding an authentic Indian restaurant, or Chinese or Mexican or Italian, but what does that mean?
Bufalo mozzarella, shipped to the US, is absolutely made in Italy, but by the time it gets to the States..it’s old mozzarella. Wouldn’t it be more true to the Italian spirit to find a good local mozzarella maker and eat super fresh cheese?  I think so.

The reason people travel is to experience new places, new flavors. If you eat a delicious  linguine made with clams from the Adriatic while you are in Italy, then go back home and make the dish with clams from the North Atlantic, is the dish no longer authentic? The recipe is authentic, but the ingredients aren’t from the Adriatic. More importantly, does it matter? Not if it’s delicious.

Which means the Montone-Mexican dinner John and Libby made on Sunday night was completely authentic in spirit because it was delicious, casual, noisy, festive and did I mention delicious?

Jeff shook up some frosty cold Margurita’s on the roof, just as the sun went down.

Hand made tortillas, made from masa carried over from the States.

A richly flavored pork and guajillo chile stew, accented with charred tomatoes and onions. YUM.

Saffron rice and black beans. Green and red chili peppers from our orto, stuffed with a mild Italian caciotta cheese and prosciutto...surely that’s Mexican in spirit?

Was our dinner authentic? If Mexicans enjoy a tasty, casual, raucous dinner...then our dinner was Mexican in every respect.

When to Eat A Caprese Salad

When the tomatoes are ripe on the vine and you bring them home still warm from the sun.


When the buffala mozzarella is so fresh that each slice of the cheese releases a creamy surge of goodness.

When the basil is dark, dark green and the basil plant is now a basil bush.

When the olive oil is fragrant and peppery and reminds you of the days we spent picking those olives.

When the you can mound the plate so full it’s a meal all by itself.


Buon’Agosto. Buon appetito.

Roasted Quail & Spiced Peaches: A Recipe from the Gods

Our knowledge of flavor is the sum of all things we have ever tasted. A recipe is not a free standing list of ingredients and instructions; it’s the result of experience, memories, and desire.
You are never, ever alone in the kitchen.

There is always a noisy crowd of tastes clamoring for attention, like a Greek chorus in the background. Last night they were chanting, “You love chili peppers. Jeff loves chili peppers. Spice tonight.”

 On the other side of the kitchen is experience and memory. LIke salt and pepper, they work in tandem: always there, always needed.  I thought of how well chili peppers play with sweet, like two friends running down the street, sometimes one leads, sometimes the other.

And finally, there is the great goddess Serendipity, and she controls the random fact that you have a lot of ripe peaches on hand, and some quail, and both need to be eaten.

I have another kitchen god, a benevolent, but demanding, randy little fellow who keeps an eye on me. I don’t know his name, he’s sly that way, but watches over all the comings and goings, and smiles the most when the kitchen is humming with noise and people.

So, you see? You’re never alone in the kitchen. Which is my long winded way of explaining how we ate Roasted Quail with Spiced Peaches, and Chili Crusted Potatoes for dinner.
I heeded the chili siren song, and paid homage to Serendipity, so all was delicious in our house last night.

Roasted Quail & Spiced Peaches
4 quail, cleaned, washed and ready
1 t of “Ras el Hanout” *see note
1/2 t of powdered chili
2 gorgeous, full, ripe, juicy peaches, cut into slices.
1 drizzle of olive oil
1-2 dried chili peppers (optional)
1 knob of butter
1 glug of whiskey.

Preheat oven to 350F/180C
Lay the sliced peaches on the bottom of a small roasting pan. They should cover the bottom of the pan.
Combine the Ras el Hanout spice mix, chili powder, and salt and rub the quail on all sides.
Place the quail on top of the peaches.
Roast until the quail are done, brown and crispy on the outside and the juices run clear when you tip the bird over. Approx 30-40 minutes.

Remove the birds from the roasting pan and keep warm.
Place the roasting pan, with the peaches on the stove and reduce the liquid. If the peaches start to fall apart, remove them from the sauce. 
Taste the liquid, if you like more heat, add 1-2 crushed, dried, whole chili peppers.
Reduce the cooking liquid until you have only 2-3 tablespoons of liquid. Add a short glug of whisky, cook for 1 more minute, then swirl in the knob of butter.
Arrange the quail on top of the roasted peaches and serve with sauce on the side.

*Ras el Hanout, or Rasel Hannout is a North African blend of ground spices. Spice shops make their own variation and the one that I use has: ground anise, fennel, allspice, cardamon, clove, black pepper, cinnamon, coriander, cumin, ginger & nutmeg. It’s the kitchen sink of aromatic spices and is widely considered to be an aphrodisiac. Use generously.

Chili-Crusted Potatoes
2-3 medium potatoes, cut into thick wedges
1/2 t chili powdered
1/2  t smoked paprika
1/2 t salt
2-3 cloves of garlic, peeled and sliced
Olive oil

Wash the potatoes, cut into wedges and par boil in salted water for 3-5 minutes.
Add the sliced garlic to the boiling potato water right about a minute after the potatoes have come to a boil. 
Drain.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and mound the spices on the paper.
Place the drained potatoes and garlic slices on the mound, and using the paper, roll the spuds around until they are coated with the chili/salt mixture. Spread the potatoes out in a single layer, drizzle with a teeny tiny amount of olive oil and roast until crispy. This will take about 30 minutes, or about as long as the quail takes to roast.

Serve with a smile and remember to thank the God, Goddess and Chorus for keeping you company.

Buon’Appetito!

More Mushrooms Than You Can Imagine

As I’m walking into our local grocery store, the Euro Spin, AKA “The Spin”, an elderly, hunched over lady is staggering out of the store lugging a massive flat of white mushrooms.
 Of course, I’m thinking, “What the hell is she going to do with all those mushrooms??”

I cruise into the produce section, which in Italy is still front and center in most grocery stores and is at least 95% untouched, unsliced, unadulterated produce, and I see a wall of mushrooms.
They are selling whole flats of gorgeous, fresh white mushrooms for 2,50 euro (or about $4 US bucks).  They are practically giving them away!

 Holey camoley, now I know why that lady bought so many mushrooms and we’re buying them too.  I bring the flat to our grocery cart, and Jeff gives me the raised eyebrow, what-are-you-doing-now look.  I tell him the price and he makes a secure spot for the flat in our grocery cart. And, that’s one of the reasons why I love him.

Then we get home and I realize this is really A LOT of mushrooms. So the first thing I do, is bag some up for our Orto-Mates. And that still leaves me with 5 or 6 pounds of mushrooms.  

It’s another use it or lose it moment, so I start cleaning mushrooms. I cut the spongy stems off, cube the mushrooms into chunky quarters, go harvest a pile of parsley from the orto, slice up a head or so of garlic and toss everything into a very large pot with equal parts butter and olive oil. And the house smells wonderful!

Here’s the recipe scaled down to a 2 to 4 person serving.

Sauteed Mushrooms
1/2 lb or 500g mushrooms, cleaned and quartered
3-4 cloves of garlic, thinly sliced
1 small clove of garlic, minced
1 heaping tablespoon of finely chopped parsley
1 T butter
1 T olive oil
1 glug of wine
1 3 finger pinch of bread crumbs
lemon juice, 1/2 half of a juicy fresh lemon
salt, pepper

Melt the butter in a saute pan big enough to hold the mushrooms in only one or two layers. Add the olive oil and over medium heat add the mushrooms, sliced garlic and a sprinkle of salt. Cover the pan and let the mushrooms release their juice. Stir frequently.

When the mushroom pan is full of juice, uncover the pan and add a good glug of white wine. Cook until all the moisture is gone. This will take about 15 minutes.

The mushrooms will turn a deep, golden brown. Right before serving the mushrooms, generously pepper them, add the minced garlic, parsley, breadcrumbs and finish with the juice of half a lemon. Cook for no more than one minute and serve with a smile.

You can serve these as a side dish with roasted pork, or chicken or use as a pasta sauce.
If you are using them in pasta: about a minute before the pasta is cooked,  spoon a ladle full of the salted pasta water into the pot. Drain the pasta and add to the mushroom sauce pot. Cook until the pasta is done and the cooking liquid has been absorbed. Serve with some extra olive oil and grated cheese on the side.

Buon’ appetito!

PS I went back to the Spin the next week, and there wasn’t a mushroom in sight.

A Few Hot Tomatoes

And the canning season begins.
 A walk over to the orto to get some basil and I’m hit with the realization that there are a ton of ripe tomatoes that need to be dealt with...NOW.
On one hand a kitchen garden is forgiving; if you don’t need any onions, you can leave them in the ground for a few days and no harm done. On the other hand, there is a use it or lose it urgency to ripe  tomatoes.
 
So much for a lazy Saturday afternoon.
The harvesting is fun, the tomatoes are warm from the sun; there is a satisfying weight to the basket as I lug it home.

An hour into peeling the tomatoes, the warm fuzzy glow has been washed away by the steaming hot tomatoes, burned finger tips, and that itchy feeling I get from being submerged in tomato acid. I ruefully realize the Pioneer Woman has staff to do this kind of stuff, and here I am only halfway through the peel and grind process.

Once the ground, peeled, and mostly seeded tomatoes are in the pot, bubbling away, my mood improves considerably. The tomatoes smell delicious and they are crazy sweet.

 
I have a fancy pair of canning tongs that makes lifting the boiling bottles out of the sterilization bath a breeze. They are more like elongated, scissored grippers than tongs, and they allow you to pick up the bottle by the neck or the body.  Regular tongs have a channel for the boiling water to run directly onto your arm, so you either scream and drop the jar or suck it up and let the water flow. My gripper tongs make bath time fun.
Once the bottles have boiled for a good half hour, out they come to cool. Now I wait for the "POP" sound as the lids contract, and I know I have a good seal on the jar. As I’m making dinner for our orto-mates, the crimson colored jars are cooling by the window I know they are filled with nothing but tomatoes and satisfaction.

OK, like childbirth, all pain is forgotten, and I’m ready for the next batch of tomatoes.

(PS The idea that childbirth pain is forgotten is rubbish. I remember it ALL..it’s just the price you pay for a kid or for a batch of canned tomatoes.)

Cannelloni Crudo

Get your mind out of the gutter. Crudo means raw.
And no, the cannelloni wasn’t raw, the sauce was.  Actually the fresh tomato sauce was almost raw or “quasi crudo” as they would say in Italy.
The story goes like this: it’s summer, no one wants to spend extra time in the kitchen, and we have tomatoes coming out of our ears.
And thus, I’ve learned inspiration and abundance make excellent cohorts.

Crudo Salsa
1 or 2 cored whole fresh summer red tomatoes
1 small onion
2 cloves garlic
2 T soft white cheese like Ribiola Fresca
2 fingered pinch of salt
1 glug of olive oil
1 T red wine vinegar

Pitch all the ingredients into the blender. Blend until lumpy (or until you have a pleasing,  sauce like consistency).  I was liking the lumpy bits and that’s what pleased me. You can go smoother or lumpier depending on your mood.

Pour over cooked pasta: spaghetti, ravioli, cannelloni. If you’ve started with room temperature ingredients, this sauce warms up as soon as it is mixed with the pasta. 

I finished the sauce in the oven with a healthy sprinkle of grated parmigiano cheese, which is why my sauce is quasi crudo. 

This ‘crudo’ sauce is a work in progress. Next variation will include lots of basil, and I think a chili pepper/oregano version could be tasty.

If you have a blender, and some tomatoes, let your imagination inspire you in all things crudo!
Buon appetito.

And the Beet Goes On!

 
What do you do when a whole row of beets in the orto need to be eaten now? You yank those babies and throw a party!
 

We had Speecy-Spicy Pickled Beets. (Note to self: back off on the chili peppers from the garden! I wonder what would happen if I pickled hard boiled eggs in that spicy brine? Now that would truly be a deviled egg.)


Sweet Roasted Beets covered in Gorgonzola and Toasted Walnuts. (There was a small skirmish when it was down to the last few bites.)


Richly decadent beet consume’. (A rich meat broth laced with dried porcini mushrooms to give it an earthy zest. Recipe courtesy of our friend The Polish Countess. So named because you could always count on her in the kitchen).

And as a finale, pale pink beet panna cotta! (Relax. I just used the beets to color the cream, not flavor it!)  And no picture either, it was too dark and toooo late in the evening.

I’m getting worried though. The tomato plants have kicked into high gear...anyone up for  Tomato Fest...running from today through September??

Kitchen Garden Lunch: Spaghetti Ortolana

The dog days of summer are upon us.
"When the seas boiled, wine turned sour, Quinto raged in anger, dogs grew mad, and all creatures became languid, causing to man burning fevers, hysterics, and phrensies" according to Brady’s Clavis Calendarium, 1813.

Is it any wonder, when the world feels baked to a crisp, why three showers a day might not be enough, and the urge to howl at the full moon seems like a perfectly good idea, that a walk to our garden, and a chat with friends, seems like a mini-vacation after the torrid heat we’ve endured?

We’ve reached the harvesting point where lunch can be made by just visiting the orto, our kitchen garden. It’s so deliciously easy now, to walk over to the garden, with no plan in mind, just a “let’s see what needs to be eaten” attitude.  For all of us in the northern hemisphere, it is a time of lazy quick meals that taste of summer sunshine.

Here is today’s version of  Spaghetti Ortolano:
2-4 ripe, sun warmed vine tomatoes like San Marzano
1 chili pepper of unreliable heat (sometime killer, sometimes sweet, there’s no telling until you cut it open)
1 red Tropea onion (the first of the harvest)
Some fennel fronds, basil and parsley leaves
3 stalks of fresh celery

Not from the garden: a handful of olives, a big spoonful of capers, olive oil, oregano,and a big clove of garlic.

Put the pasta water pot on to boil.
Chop everything up and gently saute the vegetables.
A minute before the pasta is ready, ladle a spoonful of pasta water into the saute pot.
Drain the pasta.
Add it to the saute pot and cook for 1 minute.

Serve immediately with a cold glass of wine and enough time to have a lazy chat with your dining companion.

On Sunday, we’re planning on having our 1st Ever Beet Festival because the beets are ready to be eaten. We are eagerly requesting all music suggestions to accompany the Beet Festival. Tweet us @judithklinger or @jeffaromacucina because our music selection is in need of help!

Buon appetito!