Aroma Cucina

Giro Straordinario!

The plan was to get up early, load our bikes on the truck and head to the Monti Sibillini National Park; we were going to go have ourselves a ‘giro’.

Our destination was going to be the famed town of Castellucio.  The town is famous for its lentils, faro, chick peas, it’s the highest inhabited village in Umbria at 4700 ft, but it’s dwarfed by Mont Vettore that is over 8,000 feet, and the town the Piano Grande spread out before like some crazy flowered skirt.  The mysterious and mythical Sibille or Sibyls were said to have lived in the mountains around Castellucio.

We reached the small town of Viso just in time for a little mirenda that pick me up snack before lunch. In our case, we were extremely lucky that the smiling pastry man showed up in his little truck just as we sat down, and he unloaded some outstanding palmiers for us to eat. You know, those elephant ear curled up pastries that explode into a shower of crumbs when you bite into them. These were as good as any I’ve had in Paris.
Viso is a hopping little town, right on the edge of the mountains, with clear, bubbling mountain streams and a huge fountain in the very green park. It seemed unnatural to us to see all this abundant water flowing, as water is a scarce commodity in our part of Umbria.

We left Viso and started climbing up to Castellulcio and the road is gorgeous, we’ve got the windows open and cool mountain air is filling our lungs! And bad Italian pop radio filling our ears….why are these songs allowed to be on the radio??

Fast and Slow

After my Saturday rant regarding Slow Food and it's ambiguous message....we noticed this doorway as we were leaving  an official Slow Food recognized Osteria in the small city of Norcia. Apparently at least they have a sense of humor!

Slow Food Flap

Slow Food Nation is for Snobs?

Kim Severson, of the NY Times, has written an article about the upcoming Slow Food Nation festival that will be held in San Francisco over Labor Day weekend, and once again the angst bells are ringing, and once again Corby Kummer is angering people with a quote.
“I don’t know if it’s going to be the youthful, happening Woodstock they want it to be, but it certainly has the potential,” said Corby Kummer, a food columnist, book author and Slow Food board member. “It will be a failure if it is only well-dressed people over 35 from the Bay Area treating it as if it’s another Ferry Plaza Farmers Market” — a reference to the place where well-fed San Franciscans and celebrity farmers chat over perfect peaches and soft, ripe cheese.”  The Severson article is trying to be even handed in the discussion of the pros and cons of the Slow Food movement, but gives much more prominence to the supporters than to the skeptics.  I can’t decide if she was trying to be sarcastic or admiring of the cashmere truffle-hunting vest on sale at the Bra main office.

If well dressed, well-heeled people aren’t their target market, then who is? Who is going to dish out the $80 bucks or $130 bucks to attend a special dinner, or even $20 for a workshop if it’s not someone with a least a little disposable income?  I can’t get a handle on this Kummer guy; he comes off as a pompous know-it-all who is biting the hand that feeds him.

Steve Sando, of Rancho Gordo, is blogging about it, and the commenters on his blog are concerned that they won’t fit into the necessary demographic to make the event a success. Steve has also reopened a thoughtful discussion on eGullet.  I just saw a post come in on eGullet that says the NY Times got their facts wrong and Kummer isn't on the Slow Food Board of Directors. This guy is getting under my skin!

I also have to worry about an organization that hires a ‘justice director’ so that they can be more racially inclusive. Justice director?? That’s a bit too Kafka for my taste.

The comments on the NY Times article are telling about US attitudes towards Slow Food. There seems to be resentment that anyone would actually have the time, money or inclination to ‘slow cook’.  And there’s an equal contingency that completely embrace, with the passion of the smug, the glories of eating local and organic.

This is a loaded topic and one that really strikes a nerve in many people, but there are so many aspects to consider, that to me, it’s impossible that anyone should ever feel smug or superior about the way they cook or eat.

And is anyone else wondering if those folks in the  Colbert Nation know about the Slow Food Nation? And if they do...will they get along???  Let's all hope for peace in the Nations. 

Sausage Stuffed Peppers

Sausage Stuffed Peppers

Seriously good.

4 small to medium sized red peppers
½ pound sausage meet
1 small onion
2 cloves garlic
Salt, Pepper, Fennel powder to taste

Bulgur Wheat
1 cup Bulgur Wheat
Thinly sliced, diced or chopped vegetables like onion, carrots, celery, fresh fennel, zucchini, tomatoes, and chili peppers if you like a little heat.

Pre-heat over to 180C/350F.

Wash the red peppers, carefully cut the tops off and remove the seeds and ribs.
Coarsely chop the onion and garlic and mix with the sausage meat, adding some salt, pepper and fennel powder to the meat mixture.  Fennel powder is widely available in Italy, and when I am in NY, I take fennel seeds and grind them up into powder. It’s a great flavoring for all sorts of roasted meats.

Loosely pack the peppers with the sausage mixture and place in a roasting pan and roast for about 45 minutes. Timing will vary depending on how tightly you’ve packed the pepper and how big it is. If you are worried that the sausage may be underdone, use a probe thermometer inserted into the middle of the stuffed pepper to determine if it is properly cooked.

About 15 minutes before the peppers are done, slice up every fresh vegetable that you have in the house, toss in a saucepan and with a little olive oil, salt and pepper, cook the vegetables. We like the heat so there were a few chilies added to the mixture.  The smaller and finer the vegetables are cut, they more they will blend together and add an overall vegetal taste. If you want to taste the individual flavors of the vegetables, cut them into larger chunks. When they are all soft and mellty, add ¾ of a cup of water to the pan, let it come to the boil and then add the bulgur and cover the pan. The bulgur will be completely cooked in about 10 minutes.  If it seems a little dry, add more water or a touch of olive oil. The water quantity is approximate here because bulgur comes in all different qualities, so read any info that may be printed on the label or box to give you a better idea of how much liquid to use.

When the peppers are done, fill a bowl with the bulgur and vegetable mixture and place the sausage stuffed pepper on top.  A nice crisp white wine like a Verdiccho or Tokai, and a piece of bread and you are all set. Enjoy.

Valle di Mezzo, Goat Cheese in Tuscany

Here in Northern Umbria, right near the Tuscan border, we eat a lot of sheep cheese, or pecorino. And now, along comes Brent Zimmerman of Valle di Mezzo, who is trying to expand our palates with goat cheeses. Brent and his partner Alessandro own an impressive goat farm and cheese making operation right outside the town of Anghiari, just over the border in Tuscany.

Brent’s enthusiasm is contagious as he drops whatever it is that he’s been doing and takes us on a tour of the cheese making operation and goat farm.
Disclaimer: I really love goats, I think they are very cool animals and I would have one or two as pets in a heartbeat, but I can’t imagine them traveling back and forth between NY and Montone. And here’s another secret: I don’t like goat cheese. I’m fairly certain that I have a damaged cheese tasting chromosome, as it’s the only possible explanation why I wouldn’t like a whole category of cheeses! My sister, who also loves all things cheese, hates blue cheeses, so there has to be some familial genetic flaw. But, at a dinner party in NY, our friend Will brought some tasty goat cheeses, and now Brent is starting to make me a fan of the formaggi di capra as it’s called in this part of the world.

We started our tour in the cheese sauna. It was a seriously hot and steamy room that Brent took us into, where there was this huge vat of goat milk that he was reducing and caramelizing. It had this delicious sweet and nutty flavor and while the cheese was only half way through the reducing process, I can just imagine the final product.

We refreshed ourselves in the cool and much drier aging room. There is nothing quite like that sort of moldy, yeasty, cheesy smell, it’s really seductive, you immediately go ‘ooohhhh’ and ‘ahhhh’ like children looking at a wall of wrapped Christmas presents.  Brent explained all the different types of cheeses that he’s been making: brie, blue, round wheels wrapped in tobacco leaves, other wheels that were destined to be wrapped in grappa soaked chestnut leaves, little fingers of cheese that were coated in lavender ash. It is quite impressive to see all these varieties of cheese especially as Brent is pretty much a one-man operation tending his goats, milking them and then making the cheese.

Next we headed out to the fields and followed the beautiful tinkle-tinkle sound of the goat bells until we found the herd munching away, enjoying life. Back at the barn were some of the young girls and the stunningly handsome stud billy goat.  These are happy, well cared for goats and Brent’s delicious cheeses make a great addition to the great cheeses of this area.

We made our cheese choices, which was not easy, and then headed home for a proper tasting. So, up on the roof, with a glass of good wine, some home made bread, we tasted and enjoyed. Our hands down favorite was the brie, which was the most complex of the bunch, but they all had their merits.

Brent has generously offered to let me watch the cheese making process right from the milking, and I’m looking forward to that, even if it means getting up at 4:00 in the morning! I guess I’m learning how to overcome my goat cheese disability after all!

Gentleman Gardener: No Sweat!

The NY Times is running an article, by Kim Severson, entitled “A Locally Grown Diet With Fuss but No Muss”. The gist of the article is summed up in this sentence, ““The highest form of luxury is now growing it yourself or paying other people to grow it for you,” said Corby Kummer, the food columnist and book author. “This has become fashion.”

OK, first it was no knead bread that took the country by storm, and now we hire a gardener to tend our vegetable garden and then we go to our guru, or shrink, or medicine man to wonder why life feels so unsatisfying?   I’m sorry, I just don’t get the point of having that nice young man leave a basket of ‘my’ tomatoes on the back porch. The fun, the satisfaction comes from seeing it grow, nurturing the plant and then picking it. Right?  If you eliminate the work, where does the pleasure and the satisfaction come from? You are still disconnected from the food chain while pretending it’s all clean and natural and wonderful, and you never even broke a sweat. 

I’m having enough trouble justifying supporting green markets and local markets, because there is no way that individual farmers, bringing small loads of vegetables to one tiny market is leaving a smaller carbon footprint than the big producers who economize on every step of the distribution process. 

I’m guilty. I shop at the local market because I like the experience of interacting with the farmers, and most of the time, the produce tastes better. But, is it greener and carbon cleaner than what is on sale at the COOP (an Italian grocery store chain)? Probably not.

We’re trying to plant our own orto (vegetable garden) and so far we’ve used up a tank of Roderigo’s fuel on the weed whacker, and made 3 trips to town for tools, and we haven’t even turned the earth yet, let alone planted anything.

Trust me, I don’t have any answers for the green market conundrum, but sure as hell, I know that the tomato I coaxed along myself is one that I’ll honor and cherish much more than having Trevor do the work for me.

The Ravioli Experiment

The Ravioli Experiment

I’m fascinated, ok; obsessed with the idea of ravioli that contains it’s own sauce. Ristorante San Griorgio, in Umbertide does this incredible ravioli with a light, buttery, almost frothy carbonara sauce that spills out when you cut it open.

Elaine and I decided we would try replicating that ravioli, and then some. I made up a batch of pasta while Elaine tinkered with the fillings. We were going for:
a)    carbonara
b)    gorgonzola
c)    tomato anchovy

Once you get going there’s no reason to not make a complete mess of the kitchen.
The carbonara filling was mostly egg, with some cheese and a little cream that got whipped. The gorgonzola was a mix of gorgonzola dolce (mild and quick melting) and gorgonzola piccante.  The tomato anchovy was fresh tomato, tomato puree, salted anchovy and a touch of cream.

The biggest mis-calculation we made was our capacity to eat all three varieties of ravioli in one sitting.

First up was the carbonara, which we paired with crispy guanciale (cured pork jowl) and frizzled onions.  I made the pasta too thick for this ravioli because I was afraid the pasta would leak which resulted in the pasta being under done, so we threw them back in the pot. When they came back out, the eggs in the filling had hardened and I think we created the first ever breakfast ravioli. I think we need to add more fat or butter to the mixture and let it freeze firmer before trying to use it as ravioli filling. It liquefied from the heat of my hand, and I was working pretty quickly.

We opted for the tomato ravioli next and it was an absolute success. This was plated with a parsley and breadcrumb sauce that perfectly complimented the creamy tomato anchovy filling. The only problem here was that we froze the filling in a small ice cube tray, and frozen cubes and round ravioli wraps makes for some weird looking star shaped ravioli.

The gorgonzola ravioli was paired with fresh pears and toasted hazelnuts and is divine but incredibly rich. I threw down my fork in defeat; I could not eat another bite.   We talked about all sorts of variations and ways to lighten the overall ravioli, but in the end decided it was damn good just as it was, but coming after the other raviolis it was more than three humans could handle.

The mind reels with all the other possibilities for raviolis with secret sauces.

Summer Day in Montone

Sometimes you meet someone, and everything clicks, it's like you've known them for a long, long time. Elaine and I are molti simpatici in the ktichen and that flows over into life in general.  Elaine Tin Nyo, artist and cook extraordinaire recently spent a few days with us, and she sent me this lovely e-mail describing one of the days.

I love the photo of the scouring brushes!


'We're having coffee on the piazza. Join us," said the note on the kitchen table. The two couples were there plotting the orto that had been offered them the day before by Sr Bruschi. How would they clear all the hip-high weeds? Clearly it was left to Jeff and Jude to decide since the other couples would not be in town most of the summer.

We shuffled about and made some lists. The bells in town were going crazy. People were shouting in the streets. It was Saturday and it seems two local kids were getting married in the church on our street. Everyone looked splendid. Everyone sounded happy as we headed down the hill.

Down we went to Umbertide to the mulino (the mill) and the farm supply store beside it. Now I have a confession: as a traveler, I am always happy to see the great cultural sites and treasures (the painting by so-and-so, the such-and-such stolen during this-or-that war) but what I really love is running errands with the locals. I like going to buy a bunch of carrots, picking up a pair of contact lenses, choosing a pair of shears and a hand scythe, and browsing the beekeeping department while having some keys made. Before I know it we are back in Montone and peering over the fence at the orto.

scouring brushes

Jude makes vitello tonnato and I make a green salad. Trying not to let on that I have no idea what it is she is making, I sneak sideways glances. She is making a divine tunafish salad, starting with her own freshly made mayonnaise. Capers are involved. Then she pulls some meat from the frigo and slices it thin. Jeff sets the table on the roof of the house. Wine, food, some chatting, the cats join us too. The meat is spread in a single layer on a plate the tuna stuff is spread on top. The whole thing is cold. I confess that I have only had this dish once in a terrible Italian restaurant in Germany. This is not even in the same food group. this is crazy delicious. More wine and stories. All the roofs of Montone are spread out around us. There are two bell towers in town. One that is rung by the cloistered nuns, the manner in which the rung the bells is a topic of speculation. The bells ring and ring. There is a wedding feast happening somewhere in town. There is a band and drumming. It is joyously hot here. Pretty soon I am stretched out on the seat staring up at the drying tablecloth flapping in the wind and I have dosed off.

after lunch

Ristorante San Giorgio, Umbertide

Eight years age, when we first moved into the area, I had a guidebook that said Umbertide was a gourmet mecca.  That statement was pretty much of a mystery to us because there were only a few restaurants in the town of Umbertide and they pretty much stuck to the Umbrian Government Issue Menu: tagliatelle with porcini, a stuffed pasta with black truffle sauce, grilled meats, etc. All of this food is good, but simple and basic and except for atmosphere and little nuances, the food was pretty much the same at every restaurant.

In all fairness, we come from New York City where knowing about the latest, greatest restaurant is a blood sport. Here, the people like their food familiar. Their palates are incredibly sensitive to the slightest variation on any particular dish.

About two years ago, Ristorante San Giorgio opened up in the main piazza in Umbertide. It’s a lovely space, with outdoor seating under an arch, and a pleasant, but modest dining room. When we first went, the food was good, a little notch up from others in the area, but not remarkable.  Well, I’m happy to say that they have really improved; the food is delicious, with innovative flavor and texture combinations.

On Sunday, with our visiting friend Elaine, we had a joyous lunch at San Giorgio. (I love the idea of a joyous lunch. At the Grande Hotel et di Milano, for many years, there was a poster in the elevator that promised a joyous lunch in their restaurant. That should be a standard criteria for all lunches.)  I think we made the waiter a little nervous with our picture taking, between my camera and Elaine’s, but as all of our plates went back to the kitchen licked clean, he took it all in stride and with good humor.

For me, the highlights of the meal were the beef carpaccio with a cool tomato jelly, a simple pea soup with a little roasted calamari and then there are those carbonara ravioli.  The ravioli is filled with the carbonara sauce, it comes to the plate looking all naked and innocent and then you cut it open and the liquid, buttery, cheesey, eggy sauce lusciously spills out. Totally decadent. I’ve become a little obsessed, ok, a lot obsessed by the idea of the sauce being contained inside the ravioli, but more on that later.  The baccala with porcini is an unusual flavor combo, and if the salt level on the baccala could be controlled a little better, this is a delicious pairing of flavors. The tagliata, sliced steak, is good, but a basic rendition of this classic dish.

The wine list is extensive, covering most of the regions in Italy and is well priced. We started with a fruity and complex Gewurtztraminer and moved on to the cleaner and lighter Salmagina verdicchio.

I confess we didn’t stay for dessert. After all that food and wine, we needed to take a walk. So we took a walk….straight to the gelataria! An excellent and joyous Sunday pranzo!

Ristorante San Giorgio
Via Mancini, 3
Umbertide, PG
075 941 2944
Reservations suggested, particularly if you would like to sit outside.

Orto Update: A Garden in Montone

Well the orto isn’t going to plant itself, and we’ve watched the sun patterns for enough days, it was time to bite the bullet and head in there and start whacking some weeds.  Jeff and I thought a small patch about a third of the way in would get the longest hours of sunlight. It’s too late in the season to be starting a garden, but enthusiasm and hope trump practical reality.
We were ready. We had on long pants, sneakers (to ward off snakes and scorpions), I made some ice tea for hydration, we brought our new sickle, clippers and rake. Then we stood in the middle of the plot, where the weeds come up to my chin and some of the big stuff is easily at eye level and it all seemed sort of hopelessly overwhelming.

So, we started to chop and cut and it was feeling like a very Quixotic mission. Maybe we weren’t fighting windmills but it seemed just as improbable that we could actually clear a space in the dense over growth. Of course, the instant we started, there was a steady stream of passer bys shouting encouragement and shaking their heads.  Italians are completely hot wired to give their opinion on all subjects, it’s in their DNA, so two sweaty Americans whacking at weeds in the middle of town is fine fodder for lots of comments. 

Then along comes Roderigo! He volunteered to get his weed whacker and give us a hand. The man is a maniac with his whacker! He can whack with the best of whackers.  A few hours later and about 6 huge trash bags later, we cleared a sizeable section of the plot. It was very satisfying, to say the least.

Then Roderigo wanted to know how we planned to actually turn the soil. The dirt here is unlike any dirt I’ve very seen, it’s hard clay clumps. So hard that you can’t tell a stone from dirt unless you smash it on the ground.  We have a little machine tiller, but that’s not going to cut through and churn the dirt, so tomorrow’s adventures may include going into Umbertide to see what the big boys use when they turn earth. Cutting weeds is just the first step, the earth turning step is going to be a lot harder.

Amazingly we found a fruit tree in the orto. It was laying on its side, but it’s now upright and our hope for the future. We think it might be a plum tree but no one is really certain. Roderigo votes for cutting it down, but we want to save it. Jeff also wanted to save this gorgeous poppy plant, but Roderigo was a little too quick with the whacker.
Although I had hoped to find some Roman or Etruscan coins buried in the ground, so far we only come across some plastic forks and a couple of clam shells. It is a medieval thing, a garden in the middle of a walled, fortified village. It feels pretty cool to be bringing it back to life again. This is going to be fun, but a whole lot of work and sweat.

(I’m fantasizing about artichokes in the fall, but that’s going to be a stretch.)