briciole

gelato al tè verde e mochi con gelato

green tea ice cream and mochi ice cream

For the current edition of Cook the Books, we are reading Victoria Abbott Riccardi’s book Untangling my Chopsticks: A Culinary Sojourn in Kyoto. Ms. Riccardi spent a year in Kyoto studying kaiseki, the cerimonial tea cuisine. Kaiseki uses seasonal ingredients to create small plates intended to accompany the heart of the ceremony, tea made with matcha, finely milled Japanese green tea. The production of matcha follows a specific process (you can read the details here) and the preparation of the tea during the ceremony follows a traditional ritual.

For part of the time, Ms. Riccardi lived with a Japanese family, a fact allowed her to get a closer view of the culture, the food, the rituals that mark the passing of the seasons. When I reached the point where she gives a recipe for green tea ice cream, I decided to make this dessert. The recipe in the book is similar to the one I had used in the past, made up by myself using that for vanilla ice cream (gelato alla vaniglia) as a blueprint. After reading Riccardi's recipe, I made two adjustments to my earlier recipe:

1. I mixed matcha with some water before adding it to the rest of the ingredients given by Riccardi was different.
   
2. I used more matcha.

Printer-friendly version of briciole's recipe for gelato al tè verde e mochi con gelato

For the occasion, I purchased some matcha of good quality, and also the traditional bamboo scoop, called chashaku (visible in the photo below), and bamboo whisk, called chasen. Also, as mentioned previously, the quality of the ingredients is key in making gelato, so I always use organic milk and cream and fresh, pastured eggs.

Ingredients:

• 2 (30 ml) tablespoons matcha of good quality
• 2 (30 ml) tablespoons boiling water
• 1 large of extra-large egg and 1 yolk
• 1/2 cup (100 g) granulated sugar
• 1 cup (240 ml) heavy whipping cream
• 1 and 1/4 cup (300 ml) non-fat milk

In a small bowl, mix matcha and water: the result is a dense paste. Let it cool. In a bowl, whisk together egg, egg yolk and sugar. In the meantime, heat milk and cream in a saucepan until quite hot, but not boiling. Temper the eggs with a bit of the hot liquid, then slowly add the rest, while whisking.

Whisk in the matcha: It takes a bit of patience to dissolve the matcha into the liquid. Place a tea strainer over the saucepan and slowly pour most of the liquid through it. The last half cup or so may show some undissolved matcha. I used the chasen to do a bit more whisking here; you can use your whisk. Pour the remaining liquid through the strainer. The matcha should be totally dissolved.

Put the saucepan over gentle heat, and stir the ice cream base almost constantly. You will notice a thickening. When a film forms over the back side of the stirring spoon (I use a wooden one), draw your finger across. If the line stays clear, the custard is ready. (If it overheats, it will curdle.) Remove the pan from the heat and place in a cold water bath, while stirring the custard. Once cool, cover and place in the fridge until thoroughly chilled. Churn in your ice cream maker until it reaches the consistency of gelato. Serve immediately and enjoy.

This ice cream has a bold matcha flavor and both my husband and I loved it. We obviously did not finish it, so what was left over went into a lidded container (the surface of the ice cream protected with a layer of wax paper) and then into the freezer.

My favorite chapter of the book is the one titled "Making Mochi," where the author talks about the tradition of mochitsuki, the making of mochi, which is part of the New Year's celebration (Oshogatsu). Here's a description of mochitsuki from this source:

After the [sweet glutinous] rice is cooked, it is dumped into the usu, or mortar, made from a wood stump, stone or concrete form. The hot cooked rice in the usu is pounded with a kine or wooden mallet... until the mass of rice is smooth and shiny, with no discernible individual grains of rice.

Ms. Riccardi participates to the tradition by operating the wooden mallet (a rather intense workout). The two sentences that most impressed me in this chapter are excerpted here:

The Japanese believe that pounding rice brings out its sacred power, and that mochi contains the grain's spiritual essence. [page 148]

Sadly, making mochi is a dying tradition. [page 153]

I had seen mochi, but never tasted it and had no idea of the rich tradition behind it. My interesting reading, however, would have remained without consequences had I not stumbled, the day after making green tea ice cream, on this article by Anita Chu about making daifuku mochi (stuffed mochi balls) and the related recipe. The article mentions a green tea ice cream filling. At that point, I knew I had to try the whole process. I followed the recipe halving the quantities and using agave nectar instead of corn syrup. The result was acceptable, considering that I had no experience to use as a reference. The difficult part was trying to make a dumpling using a warm wrap and softened ice cream. I needed to be better prepared.

After reading this post from Chocolate & Zucchini and watching the video it references, I felt ready for my second attempt. I used the recipe given in Clotilde's post with a couple of adjustments, and used the microwave method.

• 100 grams (3 1/2 ounces) sweet white rice flour (also called glurinous rice flour)
• 50 grams (1/4 cup) granulated sugar
• a pinch of matcha (I will use a bit more next time)
  
• 150 ml (2/3 cup) cold water 
• tapioca starch for dusting (corn starch can be substituted)

The mochi felt softer and was easier to handle. I kept the green tea ice cream in the freezer until I was ready to assemble the mochi ice cream. With the help of a melon baller, I carved out small half spheres of ice cream. This time, the mochi was a bit cooler and the ice cream was very cold, which gave me enough time to form the dumpling before the melting core started to make the operation difficult. Honestly, it was fun. Though I had not replicated the traditional mochitsuki, I had made mochi from scratch and that was satisfying.

As each dumpling was done, I put it in tray in the freezer. I should specify that I made more than ten (since I wanted them smaller), though I am afraid I forgot to count them. I hope you understand from the description of the process that inserting in this tight schedule a photo op was not an option. The video is really helpful and you can see my end result. Sure, my daifuku mochi making technique will need to improve, but that will happen, as ice cream mochi has already become a household favorite.

Given the nature of what they hold, the ice cream mochi must be stored in the freezer. Take them out about 10 minutes before you plan to serve them so that they have time to soften.

If I ever visit Japan, I will be looking for people practicing the ancient art of marbling called suminagashi, meaning floating ink. I learned this marbling techniques several years ago from Robin Heyek, who went to Japan to research it. Making suminagashi requires concentration and attention and it is, in a sense, a ceremony. For me, it is also a meditation practice that makes me focus on the moment and on my breath. The images composed on the surface of the water are elegant and fragile. They are also of delicate colors. The artist needs to decide when it is the right moment to freeze them on paper. I have a photo of one of my creations and I placed it on a page of its own, where you can also read about this truly beautiful technique.

This is my contribution to the current edition of Cook the Books, hosted by Rachel The Crispy Cook. You can find the guidelines for participating in the event here, and here is the announcement.

This post contains the roundup fo the event.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

gelato al tè verde e mochi con gelato

 or launch the gelato al tè verde e mochi con gelato audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

Update (May 27, 2011): I have submitted the recipe to the contest

zuppa di fagiolina del Trasimeno

cowpea of Lake Trasimeno soup

Fagiolina del Lago Trasimeno, or, commonly, fagiolina del Trasimeno, is one of the Slow Food presidia in Italy. I first talked about this special legume from Umbria, my home region, in this post. From the Slow Food page on fagiolina:

È un fagiolo con forma ovale e minuscola e può essere di vari colori: dal crema al nero passando per il salmone e per tutte le tonalità del marrone, anche screziato. In bocca è tenero, burroso e particolarmente saporito.

This tiny bean,... exists in colors ranging from ivory white to salmon pink to brown to black. Soft, buttery and flavourful,...

Growing fagiolina is a long, hard and all-manual process. Together with roveja, fagiolina del Trasimeno is a precious product from my home region that not long ago ran the risk of disappearing. Where roveja has a kind of simple, rustic beauty, fagiolina is rather dainty, with a smooth skin of pastel color (when not elegant black)¹. The two legumes remind me of the two main characters of The Aristocats (Gli aristogatti): roveja (on the left in the photo below) is Thomas O'Malley (Romeo, "er mejo der Colosseo," as he says in the Italian version of the movie, declaring in both words and accent that he is from Roma²), and fagiolina (on the right) is Duchess (Duchessa).

Following the Italian tradition, I made lenticchie di Castelluccio for New Year's Day (for being such a small region, Umbria certainly produces some important legumi) and I thought about sharing that recipe, but then I got sidetracked by the idea of adapting the recipe for Vegetarian Cassoulet to use fagiolina. My enthusiasm for the latter recipe was described in a recent post, where I talked about the three renditions of it that I made.

The thought that the delicate flavor of fagiolina would go well with that of the vegetables and aromatics called for by the recipe set in motion the fourth realization. Fagiolina does not need to be soaked before being cooked, and I decided to cook it with the vegetables, so I increased the amount of liquid with the idea of turning the dish into a soup. To make all this clear, here is the list of ingredients I used:

• one long leek (white and pale green parts only), corresponding to one and a half leeks of more normal length, cut in half lengthwise, washed well and sliced into 1/8" half moons
• 8 oz baby carrots, sliced no thicker than 1/4"
• one and a half celery ribs, cut lengthwise into thirds and chopped rather finely [don't forget that fagiolina is a tiny legume]
• 2 garlic cloves, finely chopped
• olive oil
• 2 thyme sprigs
• 2 parsley sprigs
• a small bay leaf
• a scant 1/8 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1 cup fagiolina del Trasimeno, rinsed
• 1 quart liquid: about 3.5 cups of homemade vegetable stock (recipe from Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone by Deborah Madison, made with the addition of corn cobs: when I roast corn to make this soup, I set aside the cobs and add them to the pot when I made vegetable stock, as I learned from my friend Christine of Christine Cooks) and the rest water [Updated³]

I followed the instructions given in the original recipe, with these changes:

• I cooked the vegetables 10 minutes before adding the fagiolina
• I covered the pot
• I cooked until the fagiolina was ready (which was more than the 30 minutes specified in the original recipe)
  
• I did not mash the fagiolina
• I omitted the garlic crumbs

I ate the soup as is, while my husband's portion included a serving of toasted and cooked hulless oats (in the photo, you can see the oats before being added to the soup). As usual with me, the soup was rather thick, a feature that can be adjusted by adding water to reach the desired density. I really liked the result: the vegetable medley complements well the flavor and texture of fagiolina, a legume that is indeed "tenero, burroso e particolarmente saporito" (soft, buttery and flavorful).

¹ The fagiolina I have used so far was ivory in color, but I have a package of fagiolina of varied colors that I will use in a future recipe.

³I had neglected to specify that the stock was diluted a bit, and added it after publishing the post: apologies to the early readers.

This is my submission for My Legume Love Affair 31, the current edition of the popular, legume-centered event created by Susan, The Well-Seasoned Cook, and hosted this month by Simona of briciole (that would be me). This post contains links to the two-part roundup of the event.

This is also my submission for Souper (Soup, Salad & Sammies) Sundays, a weekly event created by Deb of Kahakai Kitchen. This post contains the roundup of the event.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

zuppa di fagiolina del Trasimeno

or launch the zuppa di fagiolina del Trasimeno audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

² I hope you'll enjoy watching the video: I have written down the first couple of sentences and the translation.

 

Pe' arrivacce qui da Roma ho fatto l'autostop, e in Francia è già 'n ber pezzo che ce sto. Ma pure da emigrato, mica so' cambiato: io so' Romeo, er mejo der Colosseo.
To get here from Rome I hitched a hike, and I have been in France for a while, but even as an emigrant, I haven't changed: I am Romeo, the best of the Colosseum.

Edizione speciale: Novel Food #12

Special Edition: Announcing Novel Food #12

What are you reading now? I am reading a book by Italian historian Massimo Montanari, titled Cheese, Pears, and History in a Proverb. (I am actually reading the original version of the book, in Italian.) The starting point of the interesting research conducted by Prof. Montanari is described in this post. The book is really fascinating and I am planning to talk more about it.

Today, I will definitely talk more about the new edition of Novel Food, the culinary/literary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I started a 3+ years ago and have been co-hosting ever since, much to our delight.

Lisa and I correspond regularly, and often tell each other what we are reading and whether the literary work is a candidate for Novel Food. We both like to read and talk about what we are reading. Hosting Novel Food is a great way to widen the circle of sharing. Every edition is a little voyage of literary discovery, besides being a delightful banquet.

Are you eager to join the party? Lisa and I hope so. We are looking forward to learning about a published literary work (a novel, novella, short story, memoir, bio, poem, etc.) that provided you with culinary inspiration.

Here are the simple rules for participating in Novel Food:

1. Prepare a dish of your choosing that has a connection to a published literary work (novel, novella, short story, memoir, bio, poem).
2. Publish a post about it on your blog by the end of Sunday February 13, 2011 (midnight, Pacific Time), referencing the Novel Food event. Include a link to this or to Lisa's announcement. If you wish, you can use the brand new beautiful Novel Food logo designed especially for us by Lisa's husband (thank you, Keith!).
3. Send an e-mail to Lisa (champaigntaste AT gmail DOT com) or to me (simosite AT mac DOT com) and include your name, blog name and blog address, and a permanent link to your post. Please, include the words "Novel Food" in the email subject, so we can more easily retrieve the message in our inbox.
4. Non-English submissions are fine. If possible, include an introduction in English.

If you don't have a blog, send us an email telling us about the dish, the literary work that inspired it, and, if you have it, a picture of what you made: we will add it to the roundup as well.

Lisa and I are planning to do the roundup shortly after Valentine's Day.

Note #1: If you don't receive an answer to your email or a comment on your post within two days of sending me or Lisa the email, please contact us again: sometimes email messages get lost in cyberspace.

Note #2: If you follow this link, you will be able to browse my portion of the roundup of all previous editions. In each post, you will find a link to Lisa's portion of the roundup.

cassoulet vegetariana

Our January 2011 Challenge comes from Jenni of The Gingered Whisk and Lisa from Parsley, Sage, Desserts and Line Drives. They have challenged the Daring Cooks to learn how to make a confit and use it within the traditional French dish of Cassoulet. They have chosen a traditional recipe from Anthony Bourdain and Michael Ruhlman.

You can find information on cassoulet, details about the challenge and the recipes provided on this page. Among the options offered, I chose to make the Vegetarian Cassoulet, which is basically a bean stew. The recipe from Gourmet is excellent, so much so that I made it three times in the span of a couple of weeks. And I also made the Leek Confit (more on this below).

For the cassoulet, I always started with dry beans (fagioli secchi). I haven't been using canned beans for years and there is no coming back. The beans I cook are much tastier than the canned ones and cooking a pot of them is no trouble at all. Plus, there are a limited number of bean varieties that are available canned, so purchasing dry beans allows you to expand your horizon. If you have not yet decided on a New Year's resolution, I suggest this one: preparing beans from scratch at least once a month.

My three renditions of the vegetarian cassoulet had some variations. However, in all cases:

• I roughly halved the original recipe
  
• I used one cup of beans, soaked overnight in 4 cups of water, then cooked with aromatics (see this post for details on how I cook dry beans)
• instead of water, I used the bean broth, adding water to it as needed to obtain the specified amount of liquid
  
• I used my own homemade bread to make the breadcrumbs instead of a baguette (sfilatino)
  

Here are the variations (the numbers refer to the relevant rendition of the recipe):

1. I used canario beans
   
2. I used black-eyed peas (fagioli dall'occhio) and cut the vegetables (leeks, celery and carrots — porri, sedano e carote) into pieces smaller than specified in the recipe; I did not mash the beans once they were cooked and forgot the breadcrumbs when I served the dish to our guests (sorry, Christine!)
3. I used canario beans again, and again cut the vegetables into pieces smaller than specified; also, I used baby carrots (1/2 lb.) instead of adult ones

The two photos portray the third incarnation of the recipe. 

I personally prefer the dish without breadcrumbs, with a side of polenta. (I am playing with the cornmeal that I received as part of my most recent grain CSA share, and I may soon tell the story.)

Back to cassoulet, the word itself intrigues me for its definite resemblance to cassoeula, a dish typical of Lombardia, the region where Milan is located. The two dishes contain different ingredients. According to the Larousse dictionary, cassoulet is:

nom masculin
(languedocien cassoulet, de cassollo, terrine)
Ragoût de haricots blancs secs avec de la viande de porc, du confit d'oie ou de la viande de mouton.

Cassoeula is made with pork meat (ribs, feet, a type of small salami, rind, etc.) and verza (Savoy cabbage), besides onion, carrots and celery (no beans). If you are interested, on this page there is a recipe.

As it has happened to me before, close to the deadline, I realized I misread the challenge and missed the confit requirement. The recipe I followed did not ask for a confit, so it was easy to overlook that part. Last night, I made Leek Confit. I adapted the recipe given for the challenge to our household's dietary needs using olive oil instead of butter to cook the leeks. I don't have a photo of the leeks, so I will share a recent image of sky and ocean instead.

The days around the Holidays were stormy along the California coast. We did not have snow storms like elsewhere in the country, but we had our kind of winter weather. In between fronts, the sky (cielo) can be remarkably beautiful and the ocean (oceano) amazingly calm, like on the first morning of the New Year.

You will see many variations of the theme of cassoulet, when you browse the creations of my fellow Daring Cooks. A special thank to Jenni and Lisa for an interesting and fun challenge.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

cassoulet vegetariana

or launch the cassoulet vegetariana audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

il parco nazionale di Yellowstone

Yellowstone National Park

A little while ago, I wrote a post on Grand Teton National Park. During the same trip, we also visited Yellowstone National Park.

Established in 1872, Yellowstone National Park is America's first national park.

Yellostone was not the main destination of our trip and therefore I consider our visit only an appetizer (antipasto). I would like to go back and explore the park further. Grand Teton was absolutely beautiful. Yellowstone, however, was almost unbearably magnificent.

Yellowstone Caldera is one of the largest and most active calderas in the world. The spectacular geysers, boiling hot springs, and mud pots that have made Yellowstone famous -- and even the strikingly beautiful Grand Canyon of Yellowstone through which the Yellowstone River plunges -- owe their existence to the tremendous volcanic forces that have affected the region during the past 2 million years. Cataclysmic eruptions 2.0, 1.3, and 0.6 million years ago ejected huge volumes of rhyolite magma; each eruption formed a caldera and extensive layers of thick pyroclastic-flow deposits. The youngest caldera is an elliptical depression, nearly 80 kilometers long and 50 kilometers wide, that occupies much of Yellowstone National Park.

My first taste of the volcanic phenomena that occur in Yellowstone was during an afternoon drive from Grand Teton to Old Faithful. (Grand Teton is south of Yellowstone: here is a map.)

Old Faithful at the end of one of its eruptions

"despite the myth, this geyser has never erupted at exact hourly intervals, nor is it the largest or most regular geyser in Yellowstone. However, it does erupt more frequently than any other of the large geysers."

Castle Geyser

Untitled Punch Bowl Spring [I believe]

The beautiful Yellowstone River.

Bison grazing along the Yellowstone River

Seeing bison was one of the highlights of the trip.We actually saw many up close and personal, as they share the road with cars. As far as I could tell, they know about driving walking on the right. However, they are not ready to change their speed to accommodate cars, so you must be ready to slow down to their pace.

I get very emotional when I approach animals, so my close-up photos are not very good. The most thrilling encounter was with a wolf (lupo) that crossed the road and ran alongside our car for a brief moment. I was driving and could not take a photo. We also saw a couple of grizzly bears having fun in the woods, lots of deer, a beautiful male elk proud of his antler and pretty pronghorn (no moose, which was a disappointment and another reason I want to go back).

The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone was another highlight of the visit.

The Lower Falls (cascate) viewed from Uncle Tom's Trail
"The trail drops 500 feet (150 m) in a series of more than 300 stairs and paved inclines."

Clepsydra Geyser (Fountain Paint Pot)

Throughtout the park there is signage explaining what causes the different phenomena visitors can observe, from geysers to mudpots, to hot springs.

Celestine Pool (Fountain Paint Pot)
"As in many of the pools around Yellowstone, the water in this pretty pool is usually within a few degrees of boiling."

Grand Prismatic Spring (Midway Geyser Basin)
Microorganisms called thermophiles cause this incredible display of colors.

Excelsior Geyser Crater (Midway Geyser Basin)

"Yellowstone contains approximately one-half of the world’s hydrothermal features. There are over 10,000 hydrothermal features, including over 300 geysers, in the park."

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

il parco nazionale di Yellowstone

or launch the il parco nazionale di Yellowstone audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

uovo col pomodoro

egg and tomato

During my childhood in Italy, at home tomatoes were used in three ways:

1. fresh in salads (by themselves or with other ingredients)
2. strained and bottled for year-round use (mostly to make sauce for pasta)
3. halved and stored in glass jars (for use on pizza)

For #1, round tomatoes were used. On this page there is a photo of what we called pomodori da insalata. Fresh tomatoes were on our table only in the summer, and often they came directly from the producer's basket. As a child, I loved fresh from the vine tomatoes and would roam the tomato fields of acquaintances to indulge my preference.

For #2 and 3, San Marzano tomatoes were used. Once a year, my mother bought tomatoes by the case and for a couple of days her kitchen became a preservation workroom. In my earliest memories, I strain tomatoes through a food mill. Then, my mother bought an electric tomato strainer (passapomodoro), but I would still use the food mill to squeeze out the last bit of pulp before discarding the skin. My mother was in charge of preparing the glass jars of halved tomatoes.

At some point in my life, I learned that tomatoes arrived in Europe from America. I found it interesting that they had taken hold so well in Italy as to become an integral part of the culinary tradition in the regions where they were grown. However, I never asked myself how this happened historically. It is an interesting question and one that Prof. David Gentilcore has researched and answered in the recently published book Pomodoro! A History of the Tomato in Italy.

We might naturally assume that Italians liked tomatoes right away, but in fact quite the opposite is true. The tomato took more than three hundred years to enter Italian mainstream cultivation and consumption. What took so long? Of all the New World plants in Italy — which include maize, potatoes, tobacco, American beans and chilies — only the potato took as long as the tomato to catch on. In any case this is the wrong question. The real mystery is why the tomato caught on at all.

To shed light on "the real mystery" Gentilcore starts from the first record of tomato in Italy (in the mid-16th century) and follows the fruit's fortunes across the centuries using a variety of sources. The story, a kind of adventure novel with the tomato as protagonist, makes for a pleasant and interesting read. At some point, records show that the momentous marriage between pasta and tomato sauce had taken place. What impact did that event have on my life! You see, I grew up eating pasta with tomato-containing sauce (usually sugo di carne) five to six days a week. 

Back to the book, the history of tomato preservation — from sun-dried tomatoes to conserva di pomodoro to passata di pomodoro to canned pomodori pelati (peeled tomatoes) — is also very interesting. Then there is the story of Italians migrating to America and bringing with them their culinary traditions, including pasta al pomodoro. Gentilcore ends the book with a look at the present. You may or may not know (before reading the book, I didn't) that China is currently the biggest tomato producer in the world, followed by the US. [This page on the Economic Research Service site has a lot of information on US tomato production.]

The sources Gentilcore consulted range from personal correspondence to medical treaties to government documents to cookbooks. A number of recipes are scattered among the pages. One that particularly intrigued me is from Elizabeth David's "Italian Food" and is called Uova al piatto con pomidoro. When I read the title, I thought that I had come across a record of a beloved dish from my childhood. However, her recipe differs from mine, though it testifies to a marriage between egg and tomato. The word pomodoro comes from pomo d'oro (literally, golden fruit). Among various spellings, pomodoro (singular) and pomodori (plural) have prevailed in Italian. The recipe shows an alternative spelling of the plural.

You can follow the link to check David's recipe. Here, I will share my rendition of the one from my childhood, when I sometimes asked my mother to prepare this simple dish: an egg with some tomato from one of her bottles. The quantities given below can be halved or doubled, for solitary, pairwise, or group enjoyment. When using more than one egg, the recipe should be more appropriately called uova col pomodoro. However, at home we always called it uovo col pomodoro, even when my mother prepared it not just for little me.

Printer-friendly version of briciole's recipe for uovo col pomodoro

Ingredients:

• 1/2 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 garlic cloves, peeled
• a cup of strained roasted tomato (see below for details) [or 1/2 of a 15 oz. can of tomato sauce (choose organic if possible and one that has a minimum of added ingredients]
• 2 eggs of good quality (pastured eggs, if possible)
• salt, to taste

In a saucepan, warm up the oil over low heat, then add the garlic cloves. Let the oil absorb the garlic’s flavor for a minute or so, making sure the cloves do not turn brown. Add the strained roasted tomatoes and stir. Cover the saucepan and simmer for 10 minutes over low heat. In a small bowl, lightly beat the eggs with a pinch of salt. Pour the eggs into the tomato and turn up the heat to medium-low. Stir with a wooden spoon. Let the eggs cook, uncovered, for about 5 minutes, stirring often and turning down the heat when the tomato starts bubbling again. Retrieve the garlic cloves and discard them. Adjust the salt and serve immediately, accompanied with a slice of rustic bread, which can be used to scoop up the creamy uovo col pomodoro. This was one of the comfort foods of my childhood and I am pleased to report that my husband loves it too.

Last summer, I roasted tomatoes quite often: I started with cherry tomatoes, which I used in various recipes (as you can read here and here), then moved on to the larger tomatoes that I got in my CSA box. I cut the tomatoes in half, distributed them, cut side up, on a baking sheet lined with a silicone baking mat, sprayed olive oil and sprinkled thyme leaves on them. I roasted the tomatoes for 70 minutes at 350 F. Once cooled, I used my food mill and elbow grease (olio di gomito) to strain the tomatoes. Only dry skins and seeds were left behind. I then used the end product to make several dishes, including my beloved uovo col pomodoro. I also froze some, for enjoyment during the tomato-less winter months.

A group of bloggers read Pomodoro! and Rachel from The Crispy Cook compiled the roundup of the posts they wrote with their thoughts and the dish they were inspired to prepare.

This is my contribution to edition #265 of Weekend Herb Blogging, an event started by Kalyn of Kalyn's Kitchen, now organized by Haalo of Cook (almost) Anything at Least Once and hosted this week by the organizer herself.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

uovo col pomodoro

or launch the uovo col pomodoro audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

FTC disclosure: I have received a free review copy of the book mentioned in this post from the publisher. I have not and will not receive any monetary compensation for discussing the book on my blog.

Annuncio: legumi che passione! (numero 31)

My Legume Love Affair #31 ¹

I have the honor of being the host for the January 2011 edition of MLLA, the popular, legume-centered event that is the brainchild of Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook.

Participation in the event revolves around a recipe that showcases one or more legumes, be it savory or sweet, with or without meat — no restrictions. The legume (or legumes) must be one of the main ingredients, not a minor character.

You can send me a new post or a post from your archive reposted for the occasion. You can submit the recipe to other events as well, and you can send me more than one post (in which case, though, only one submission will be counted towards the random drawing described below). If you have a recipe to share, but not a blog where to post it, send the recipe and other applicable pieces of information to me and I will add it to the roundup. You will also be entered in the drawing.

The post must include a link to this announcement and also to Susan's post containing the host lineup. Use of the beautiful logo, designed by Susan, is optional. (The legumes portrayed in it are black soybeans.)

Example of legumes include (but are not limited to):

• fresh or dried beans of any kind
• lentils
  
• chickpeas, ak.a., garbanzo beans (fresh or dried or their flour, a.k.a., besan)
• peas (fresh or dried or their pods)
• fava beans (fresh or dried)
  
• soy beans (fresh or dried, or their derivative products, like tofu)
• peanuts
• carob beans
• lupini beans

Not an exhaustive list, but it should give you a sense of the wide range of options. Note that in French the word légumes means vegetables, and also legumes. This event is about the second meaning.

To submit your post, send an email to simosite[AT]mac[DOT]com with MLLA entry in the subject and containing the following information:

1. Your Name
2. Name of Your Blog
3. Title and URL of Your Recipe Post
4. Your Location (necessary for the second prize described below; let me know if you prefer that I do not disclose it in the roundup)
5. Photo of the dish or legume(s) featured in it: Optional (but helpful) and maximum 400 px wide

If you don't have a blog, submit your recipe by sending me an email as described above (except for #2 and #3, which do not apply) with the description of the recipe.

The deadline is Monday, January 31 at noon PST.

If you don't receive an answer to your email or a comment on your post within two days of sending me the email, please contact me again: sometimes email messages get lost in cyberspace. Also, feel free to contact me should you have any questions regarding the event and its  rules.

The following prizes will be awarded to one winner via random drawing:

• Any cookbook or food-related book selected from Amazon U.S. valued at not more than 15USD for the book itself. This prize is offered by Susan at her expense, and she will also absorb worldwide shipping charges.  F.T.C. Notice: Susan does not receive any compensation from Amazon. 
• Hurst Bean Box - A case of six bags of the winner's choice of Hurst Bean products, suitable for every diet, sponsored by Hurst Bean. (Due to shipping restrictions, this prize can only be awarded if the winner is a U.S. resident.) FTC Notice: In May 2010, Susan, at her request, received two Hurst Bean complimentary products which are not available for purchase in her local markets. Susan does not generally accept free products from Hurst Bean nor is she financially compensated by them.
• Drawing Structure - If the winner is a U.S. resident, she/he will be the recipient of both Prizes 1 and 2 above.  In the event that an international winner is drawn, a second drawing will be conducted from the U.S. pool of entrants to ensure that the Hurst Prize is awarded every month.  In these instances, the international winner will receive the book, and the U.S. winner will receive the Hurst Prize.

¹ A note about the title of my post: legumi che passione! is not the literal translation, but my personal rendition of the original My Legume Love Affair.