briciole

torta soffice con frutta mista

sponge cake with mixed fruit

raspberries, mango and cherries on a soft cake

This delightful page comes from the novel A Mind to Murder by P.D. James (1963), the second of the Adam Dalgliesh novels. In my announcement for the current edition of Novel Food, I mentioned that I was reading it:

I read the first one Cover Her Face and liked it a lot, so now I am on to the second one. "In 1962 P.D. James' first novel, Cover Her Face, was published. In that novel she introduced the sensitive, taciturn, and hardworking Inspector Adam Dalgliesh" (source).

The murder to which the excerpt refers occurrs at the Steen Psychiatric Clinic, in London. An interesting detail is that at the beginning of the story, Superintendent Dalgliesh (of Scotland Yard) is asked to visit the scene of the crime while he is at a party:

At the other end of the square Superintendent Adam Dalgliesh of the Criminal Investigation Department was attending the ritual autumn sherry party given by his publishers which had coincided with the third reprint of his first book of verse. He didn't overestimate his talent or the success of his book. The poems, which reflected his detached, ironic and fundamentally restless spirit, had happened to catch a public mood.

Dalgliesh is a published poet: see, I told you that he is an interesting character. And P.D. James is a skillful and sensitive writer. I hope that the excerpts give you a glimpse of her art. With both novels, I had difficulty putting down the book, the traditional hallmark of the deeply absorbed reader.

The passage about the tea offered to Dalgliesh by Mrs. Fenton struck me particularly, since we are told in detail what was prepared for Dalgliesh and his reaction to the feast. Having recently presented two recipes for scones, I decided try my hand at something different to offer Superintendent Dalgliesh. I started my search using "iced sponge" as a trace, and, after looking at a number of recipes, I chose the one for Lemon Sponge Cake with Mixed Berries.

For Superintendent Dalgliesh, in the case at hand the conclusion does not come easy. In fact, in the lead up to the novel's denouement, he voices his uneasiness. This being a mystery, saying more would put me in the difficult position of revealing important details of the story and I'd much rather pique your curiosity and make you reach for the volume.

a nice, light cake

And now for the cake that I contribute to the tea prepared for Superintendent Dalgliesh. It a lightly sweetened cake with an soft texture that is just perfect for a proper English tea. I halved the quantities of the original recipe, halved again the sugar and made a couple more adjustments. I also used a mix of fruit, rather than jsut berries: raspberries (lamponi), mango and cherries (ciliegie). Instead of honey, I drizzled some fruit syrup on the top. The syrup is a by-product of macerating fruit for making preserves. At a preserve-making class I took from June Taylor, I saw her drain some of the juice produced by the fruit, when it was too much, which can happen, depending on the kind of fruit used. I boiled the syrup to reduce it slightly, and jarred it with the intention of using it in situations like the one at hand. It is lightly sweetened and very fruity.

Ingredients:

• 3 large eggs, separated
• 1/2 teaspoon cream of tartar
• 1/4 cup (50 g) superfine sugar: take 1 tablespoon of it after measuring
  
• 1 tablespoon hot water
• 1/2 tablespoon freshly grated lemon zest
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
• Pinch of salt
• 1/2 cup cake flour
• Mixed fruit
• 2 tablespoons fruit syrup

Follow the instructions as on the original recipe with the following adjustments:

• Add the tablespoon of sugar you separated to the egg whites.
• Use an 8-inch springform pan and line the bottom with parchment paper.
• If your oven allows it, use the convenction bake option.
• Check the cake after 30 minutes in the oven.
• Drizzle fruit syrup over top of cake; however, if you don't have syrup, use the honey and lemon juice blend as in the original recipe.

Considering the challenge I face every time I decide to decorate something, I am proud of myself for how I was able to keep my inner genie under control here. I think that a Kandinsky-influenced decoration would not have been appropriate in the case of Mrs. Fenton's tea.

This is my second contribution to the 16th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I have started some time ago.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

And I am submitting this recipe, bookmarked on the Prevention magazine website, to the July edition of Bookmarked Recipes, an event originally started by Ruth of Ruth’s Kitchen Experiments and now hosted by Jacqueline of Tinned Tomatoes.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

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

torta soffice con frutta mista

or launch the torta soffice con frutta mista 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.]

cake, fruit, raspberry, lemon, mango, cherry

crema di fave e scapi florali d'aglio

fava bean and garlic scape spread

a creamy shade of green

For the current edition of Cook the Books, we are reading The United States of Arugula by David Kamp (2006). I don't think I can add much to the many reviews the book has received since its publication. It is undoubtedly an important book, very interesting and pleasant to read. Kamp's book paints a complete and complex picture that helps the reader understand how certain aspects of the food world in the US evolved to be the way they are now.

My perspective in reading the book is that of an outsider-insider: I am an Italian who moved to the San Francisco Bay Area (theater of a number of the developments narrated in the book) as an adult (18 years ago), with well-established food roots. I learned not only to cook but to enjoy doing so, and, as a result, I eat out only very rarely. Finally, I don't watch television. From this special perspective, the story told in the book is fascinating, and also puzzling. I am very much Italian in my approach to food and totally immune from the obsession with French cuisine depicted in the book. Such obsession puzzles me.

Kamp dedicates some thoughtful paragraphs to Italian cuisine. You can read an example here. This excerpt brought to my mind two things. First, the 1996 movie Big Night, which shows very nicely the tension between Italian regional cuisine and Americans' perception of it influenced by the Italian-American community. Then, an episode from my previous life. Before moving to the US, one summer, I worked at a Club Med resort in Morocco. The guests came from France, Italy, Belgium, Germany, the UK. One evening, the dining room was divided into two sections: in one, guests would be served a French menu, in the other, an Italian menu. At dinner time, things did not quite go as expected: almost everybody wanted to go into one section — and it was not the one where French food would be served. As Marcella Hazan says in the passage referenced above with regards to Italian food, "it's food that you eat with pleasure... You don't have to analyze it, you just enjoy that it's so."

The recipe that follows is connected to another page of the book, where Ms. Betty Fussell's comment on food hype is reported, within the context of an assessment of Alice Waters' contribution to the discussion on food ways. (You can read the page here.) These Fussell's words made me smile: "little tiny Italian fava-bean grower down the road." I am actually happy that nowadays I can find fresh fava beans at the farmers' market (and fava greens too), a food that is quite common in Italy and that I ate often as a kid.

The other element of the recipe is garlic scapes. The scape is the elegant leafless "stem from which the seed head of the garlic bulb is formed" (source). Garlic scapes are a relatively recent entry in my kitchen: they have gained in popularity in recent years and are now easily found at farmers' market, appearing at the same time as fava beans, a coincidence that I interpreted as a suggestion.

Most recipes I have seen use scapes to make a variation of pesto, or as a side dish, roasted. My spread tastes of fresh fava beans, of aromatic garlic scapes and of pungent fiore sardo cheese. In this small dish, I bring together my Italian heritage and my experience with interesting ingredients I find in Californian farmers' markets. More than an exact recipe, this is an invitation to play with the main ingredients. It is also a variation on the classic Italian combination of fava beans and pecorino cheese.

Note: Savory has a flavor reminiscent of thyme, with mint and pepper tones. I have a bush of winter savory (santoreggia montana) in my herb garden, and I like to experiment with it. If you don't have it, try using one or two leaves of fresh mint (menta).

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for crema di fave e scapi florali d'aglio

Ingredients:

• 1 1/4 lb. fresh fava beans in their pod (about 1 1/4 cup shelled)
• 2 1/2-3 oz. [70-85 g] garlic scapes
• 1 teaspoon fresh winter savory, optional (see note above)
• 1/4 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley leaves
• 3 tablespoons freshly grated fiore sardo
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
• Fine sea salt, to taste

Shell fava beans and blanch them for one minute, drain them and plunge them into a bowl of cold water. Drain them again, then remove the skin from the beans to bring their bright green core to light. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 425 F. Cut thinner portion of garlic scapes (above the bulge); if they've yellowed, discard. Spread all the scapes onto a baking sheet lined with a silicone baking mat and sprinkle with olive oil and a bit of sea salt. Bake for 12 minutes, then remove the thinner pieces. Bake the rest for another 3-4 minutes. Let cool slightly, then coarsely chop scapes. (This seems complicated, but the top of the scapes ends up charred and I am trying to avoid that. If it still happens, snap off the charred portion and discard it before proceeding with the recipe.)

Put fava beans and scapes in the food processor and pulse to chop. Add herbs and process some more, then add the cheese and process briefly. While pulsing, dribble the oil into the feeding tube, then the lemon juice. Finally, sprinkle a bit of salt and process to a smooth paste by pulsing for several seconds at a time.

I have found that it is better to allow the ingredients to influence each other for a bit before changing the balance, so let the spread rest for 20 minutes or so, then taste and adjust seasoning (salt, lemon juice). Refrigerate until ready to use and take out of the refrigerator in advance, so that the spread in not cold when you serve it.

In the top photo, I am using a grissino as a vehicle for some of the spread.

This is my contribution to the current edition of Cook the Books, hosted by Jo of Food Junkie, Not Junk Food. You can find the guidelines for participating in the event here, and here is the announcement.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

I am also sending this to My Legume Love Affair 47, the current edition of the popular, legume-centered event created by Susan, The Well-Seasoned Cook, and hosted this month by Priya of Mharo Rajasthan's Recipes. This post contains the roundup of the event.

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

crema di fave e scapi florali d'aglio

or launch the crema di fave e scapi florali d'aglio 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.]

fava bean, garlic scape

intervista a Marisa Churchill

interview with Marisa Churchill

oatmeal-raisin cookies from Sweet & Skinny

Prepare a cup of tea or coffee, grab a cookie (besides oatmeal and raisins, the cookies in the photo have pieces of chocolate and of walnuts), make yourself comfortable, and read on.

On March 24, I attended the Women's PowerStrategy Conference in Marin County, CA. What I have to tell about that day won't fit into one post, so I'll start by talking about meeting Marisa Churchill, pastry chef and author of the dessert cookbook Sweet & Skinny, 100 recipes for enjoying life's sweeter side without tipping the scales. Readers of this blog know that my recipes tend to be light on both sugar and fat. That's the way I like to eat. Listening to, and then conversing with a pastry chef that challenged herself to create 100 light desserts that are generous in flavor and satisfaction, was a special treat.

Before meeting Marisa in person, I read about her career as pastry chef, her Greek heritage, and her passion for swimming. And before sitting down for a one-to-one conversation with her, I listened to her lively presentation at the conference. Marisa organized her talk around the main ingredients of desserts: butter, eggs, sugar, chocolate, cream, flour, oil. For each ingredient, she discussed lighter alternatives that do the job, provide nutritional value and/or satisfy the requirements of people with special dietary needs. An example Marisa referenced in her presentation is her Chocolate-Buttermilk Cake, in which a finely shredded red beet disappears into the batter in terms of texture leaving behind its sweetness, while creamy buttermilk and yogurt enrich the cake and keep it light. Other examples I found particularly interesting are: a lighter version of whipped cream that uses gelatin, the use of crushed pineapple as sweetener (for example, in the macaroons that conference participants tasted during lunch), and browned butter.

Marisa told the story of a particular tough challenge she faced in creating a light version of kourabiethes, traditional Greek butter cookies. When Marisa's grandmother was a young woman, the king of Greece visited her town. For the occasion, she prepared a batch of kourabiethes. Upon tasting them, the king declared them the best he'd ever eaten. In thinking how she could win the challenge, Marisa had the idea of using browned butter, which is more intensely flavored and of which therefore she could use less. Pasta with browned butter and mizythra cheese is a dish her grandmother used to prepare for her and the flavorful memory put her on the right track.

solidified browned butter

As soon as I got home that day, I made a small batch of browned butter and used some to prepare scones (more details when I write a post about them). I hereby declare that I am a convert. Marisa explains how to make browned butter and other "sweet foundations" in the first chapter of "Sweet & Skinny", which then goes on to cover, among other topics, American classics, sweet treats, and Holiday favorites.

For Marisa, creating the recipes for the book was a nice challenge at a point in her career when she was looking for one. She worked in her own kitchen to develop and perfect all the recipes, some of them taking longer than expected to obtain the desired balance of lightness without sacrificing flavor and texture (for example, this PB & J cookies). Besides the ones already referenced, two more recipes are available on this page.

My conversation with Marisa flowed easily and I can see how we could have continued chatting for a long time, as you'd expect if you bring together Greek and Italian blood over the topic of food.

I know I have readers in Greece, so I want to let them know that Marisa has been featured in the press and on television there, as you can see on her website's home page. 

A few words about the cookies in the top photo. The originals are called Oatmeal-Sour Cherry Cookies (page 47) and are included in the chapter dedicated to Americal classics. The alternative use of raisins is included in the recipe, while the use of finely chopped chocolate instead of chocolate chips is my idea. The book does not show a photo of the cookies as they came out of Marisa's oven, so I don't know how my rendition fares next to them. I hope Marisa will be satisfied. During our conversation, we talked about the use of flax meal and water as egg substitute, something with which I have just started to experiment and which I used in this recipe.

Oops! I'd better bake more cookies: those are all gone.

FTC disclosure: I have purchased the copy of the book mentioned in this post. I have not and will not receive any monetary compensation for discussing the book on my blog. The views expressed in the post are my own.

Novel Food #15: the finale

Welcome to the roundup of the 15th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I created in 2007. Novel Food is about literary works (prose or poetry) that inspire the preparation of dishes.

Like all its predecessors, the current edition of the event includes an lovely set of readables and edibles. Please, follow me on a short literary/culinary tour. For each contribution, I will offer a small bite to whet your appetite for more: follow the link to read the details of the inspiring work of literature and of the inspired recipe. I hope that by the time you reach the end of this post, you will have a nice reading and cooking list to be used in the near future.

---

Ruhama of rumahama presents Monsoon Summer by Mitali Perkins,
which inspired her to parepare Chicken Tiki Masala

Jasmine leaves behind "the comfort of knowing who she is" to spend a summer with her family in the country of her mother. She also leaves behind a business and her love. She resists the challenge of the new environment, but not its food.

---

Jo of Not An Everyday Circumstance read  At Home: A Short History of Private Life by Bill Bryson and prepared Chocolate Wafers then used them to make an Icebox Cake

"In each chapter, the reader is taken through each room of the house and regaled with its evolution and history of use, the various materials and inventions that adorn them, and the colorful characters that invented them."

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Rachel of The Crispy Cook read  Frankie's Place: A Love Story by Jim Sterba
and prepared Vanessa's Beans (or Frankie's 'n Beans)

Reading the book, "makes you feel like you are visiting friends at their summer camp on Maine's Mount Desert island." It is "an atmospheric account" of the author's "courtship of, marriage to and many felicitous summers spent with fellow author Frances "Frankie" FitzGerald."

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Deb of Kahakai Kitchen was inspired by the modern Gothic novel The Lantern by Deborah Lawrenson to bake Warm Lavender Almond Cakes

"A curl-up-in-a-comfy-chair-on-a-stormy-night kind of story, and a lovely escape to the south of France. If you enjoy Provence, beautifully descriptive writing, Gothic tales and ghost stories, and/or have a sense of mystery, you will like this book."

---

Brii of briggishome read Leonard Walsh a San Vigilio by Claire Sargint
and baked special cookies connected to the inn of the book: San Vigilini

The book tells the story of Leonard Walsh and the Locanda San Vigilio of which he was host for 50 years. It "also gives a romantic and fascinating glimpse of the life in Garda during the same time. There are photos, newspaper clips and letters received by Leonard from the more or less famous people that came to visit the Locanda during all those years."

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Paz of The Cooking Adventures of Chef Paz read The Patience of the Spider by Andrea Camilleri (one of the Montalbano novels) and made Trapanese Pesto

"Inspector Montalbano is good at his job of solving crimes that come his way in Sicily. In addition to the way he does his job, I like the way he enjoys his food. He doesn’t mind company when eating, however, he prefers silence during the meal, so that he can concentrate on it."

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Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook, was inspired by The Silence of the Sea by Jean Bruller 
to prepare a steaming bowl of Café au Lait

"An impassioned and compassionate study of the mandate of French resistance played out in a provincial village with only three main characters: von Ebrennac, an idealistic and naive Wehrmacht officer billeted in the home of an elderly man and his niece, whose names remain hidden from the reader."

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Ana of Sweet Almond Tree read The Cat's Table by Michael Ondaatje and prepared three Sri Lankan dishes: Sri Lankan aromatic rice, Vegetable curry with cashews and Tropical salad

The novel is about an 11-year-old boy, “green as he could be about the world,” on a sea voyage in the early 1950s. "If the captain's table is the place to sit on a sea voyage, then Ondaatje's cat's table is just the opposite: one of the least privileged dining assignments aboard the cruise ship Oronsay."

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Ambika of Ambika's Kitchen was inspired by the story The Luncheon by Somerset Maugham
to prepare Barley and Vegetable Skillet Salad with asparagus

In the story, the protagonist learns that the advice "never eat more than one thing for luncheon" is subject to personal intepretation. Her guest's interpretation costs him a whole month's savings.

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Libby of Libbysbookblog contributed three posts

People of the Book by Geraldine Brooks and Waves of the Danube Cake

"The novel is about is an actual book: the Sarajevo Haggadah. A Haggadah is a book that everyone uses to follow along and read from during the seder, the Jewish ceremony held during Passover." While in Vienna, the protagonist tastes "is served coffee and Waves of the Danube Cake."

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo and Matelote

"This classic French fish chowder is not as well known as Bouillabaisse, but it is wonderful--often known as the fisherman's coq au vin. Coming from an inland region of France, it traditionally uses eel or other fresh fish--and either red or white wine."

Islands in the Stream by Ernest Hemingway and "Islands in the Stream" cocktail

"Try to find coconut water that has 'pulp.' The pulp is little cubes of young, soft coconut... Hudson says that the angostura should make the drink look "rusty." So, you need three good 'glugs,' I think."

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Inspired by North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell, Simona of briciole
prepared Coconut and mango friands

In the novel, Gaskell takes a close look at labor tensions in Milton, a (fictional) industrial city in the north of England... The two protagonists, John and Margaret are on a collision course every time they meet. Still, their relationship evolves towards the satisfying novel's final scene.

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Simona of briciole was also inspired by Mark Twain's perspective on Venice in Innocents Abroad  to bake some unusual zaletti (cornmeal cakes)

"And sure enough, afloat on the placid sea a league away, lay a great city, with its towers and domes and steeples drowsing in a golden mist of sunset."

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My special "thank you!" goes to the event's participants. The next edition of Novel Food will be in the summer: I will announce it here and on The Food Blog Diary, so stay tuned. The Food Blog Diary is the lovely event announcement site created and maintained by Jacqueline of Tinned Tomatoes. Visit the site to read about current events and let her know about your event and she will post it on her well-organized site. Thank you, Jacqueline!

In the meantime, read good books (maybe with the next Novel Food in mind), cook good foods, and otherwise savor life's local and seasonal offerings.

Arrivederci!

Novel Food #15: zaletti (gialletti dell'Artusi I)

Artusi's cornmeal cakes (I)

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

It was a long, long ride. But toward evening, as we sat silent and hardly conscious of where we were -- subdued into that meditative calm that comes so surely after a conversational storm -- some one shouted --

"VENICE!"

And sure enough, afloat on the placid sea a league away, lay a great city, with its towers and domes and steeples drowsing in a golden mist of sunset.

Thus ends chapter 21 of Innocents Abroad (1869), Mark Twain's account of his 1867 trip to Europe and the Holy Land. "The book began as a series of travel letters written mainly for the Alta California, a San Francisco paper." In chapters 22 and 23, we see Twain exploring Venice, meditating on its present and past, and enjoying his gondola rides.

Twain approached Venice the same way I have done many times, by train. My most recent visit, however, started differently. After landing at Venice airport, I took a boat that slowly crossed the lagoon north of the city, stopping briefly in Murano on its way, and giving passengers ample time to admire the setting sun embracing the city in warm colors.

As soon as I dropped my suitcase in my lodging, I went out again. At night, Venice acquires a contemplative mood and it is easier to connect with it when the tourists have magically disappeared. Twain also discovered the magic of Venice by night:

In the glare of day, there is little poetry about Venice... But in the moonlight, her fourteen centuries of greatness fling their glories about her, and once more is she the princeliest among the nations of the earth.

I respectfully disagree with Twain's first statement, though. It may be more difficult to find the poetry of the city under glaring light and surrounded by many people, but it is possible: just step outside the fixed itineraries, go roaming around and chances are you'll find interesting and quieter corners. When I visit Venice, I usually have a rough plan of action, but mostly I let chance encounters set the agenda. I make use of the waterways very rarely, preferring to find lose my way around on foot.

Twain, on the other hand, enjoyed going around on a gondola and was fascinated by it.

The Venetian gondola is as free and graceful, in its gliding movement, as a serpent. It is twenty or thirty feet long, and is narrow and deep, like a canoe; its sharp bow and stern sweep upward from the water like the horns of a crescent with the abruptness of the curve slightly modified.

The stern of the boat is decked over and the gondolier stands there. He uses a single oar--a long blade, of course, for he stands nearly erect. A wooden peg, a foot and a half high, with two slight crooks or curves in one side of it and one in the other, projects above the starboard gunwale. Against that peg the gondolier takes a purchase with his oar, changing it at intervals to the other side of the peg or dropping it into another of the crooks, as the steering of the craft may demand -- and how in the world he can back and fill, shoot straight ahead, or flirt suddenly around a corner, and make the oar stay in those insignificant notches, is a problem to me and a never diminishing matter of interest. I am afraid I study the gondolier's marvelous skill more than I do the sculptured palaces we glide among.

forcola

The "wooden peg" is called forcola: each one is a work of art, crafted to fit the individual gondoliere and hence unique, one of the approximately 280 pieces that make a gondola.

During my last visit, I arranged my plans so that I spent three nights in Venice and since I was staying in a quiet corte off Riva degli Schiavoni, every evening I walked along the wide and relatively uncrowded Riva, took in the view across to San Giorgio Maggiore, reached St. Mark's Square, passed by the Caffè Florian then crossed towards the Caffè Quadri on the other side, then retraced my steps via a different, quieter, and darker route.

And at midnight... we have lonely stretches of glittering water --of stately buildings--of blotting shadows--of weird stone faces creeping into the moonlight--of deserted bridges--of motionless boats at anchor. And over all broods that mysterious stillness, that stealthy quiet, that befits so well this old dreaming Venice.

In the windows of pastry shops in Venice, you can see zaletti, their elongated shape dusted with powdered sugar, raisins peeking out here and there with a promise of more once you take a bite. (I don't have a photo, but you can see a nice one in this post by Kathy of Food Lover's Odyssey.) Twain does not mention any food in the chapters about Venice, so I don't know if he ate any zaletti (or zaeti). These baked goods are also known as gialletti: the name reportedly refers to the yellow color (giallo) given to them by the cornmeal (farina di mais) with which they are made. My memory of zaletti is very vague, hence totally unreliable as a base for working in the kitchen, so I looked around for recipes: they are all rich in butter and sugar and I wanted something simpler.

I then checked Artusi's cookbook Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well (1891) and there I found two recipes for gialletti, the first of which uses yeast. I decided to explore this path further. None of the modern recipes I read uses yeast, relying instead on baking powder as leavening agent. However, an article on cookaround (in Italian) mentions a cookbook older than Artusi's and the recipe for zalletti alla veneziana (Venetian-style) in it uses leaven and no sugar. The book is called La nuova cucina economica and was authored by Vincenzo Agnoletti. The first edition dates to 1803 and the second, titled La nuovissima cucina economica, to 1814. At the end of my search, I felt good about my determination to make zaletti with yeast according to Artusi's recipe. I am planning to follow Agnoletti's recipe, which differs from Artusi's in several ways, for the next phase of my exploration of zaletti.

Artusi's recipe is fairly detailed but it does not provide pieces of information like the amount of water and the time for leavening and baking. I also decided to experiment using all cornmeal (from my CSA share, hence locally grown and freshly milled) and then substituting part of it with corn flour, which is more finely milled than cornmeal. The gialletti made with only cornmeal are a bit more rustic. My husband favored them, while I had a slight preference for the ones with also corn flour. The original recipe calls for half butter and half lard. I have some homemade lard, so I used a bit of it. Overall, I halved the quantities given by Artusi and obtained eight gialletti.

Ingredients:

• 50 g / 1 3/4 oz. all-purpose flour [as usual, I used King Arthur Flour all-purpose flour], divided into two
• 2 tablespoons / 30 ml of water at room temperature
• 1 teaspoon instant yeast
• 150 g / 5 1/4 oz. cornmeal [or 50 g / 1 3/4 oz. cornmeal and 100 g / 3 1/2 oz. corn flour]
• 1/3 cup + 2 tablespoons / 90 ml of hot water
• 1/2 tablespoon sugar [I used ultra-fine sugar]
• 1 oz. / 2 tablespoons / 30 g butter, softened [once I used 1/3 lard and 2/3 butter] (see Note at the end)
• a pinch of salt
• 50 g / 1 3/4 oz. raisins

In a small bowl, mix half of the wheat flour, the yeast and the water at room temperature. Let it ferment until bubbly. I did it for 45 minutes. In the meantime, in another bowl mix the cornmeal, the remaining wheat flour, the sugar, and salt. Pour the hot water in the bowl, add the butter and mix well.

Add the pre-ferment to the flour mixture and knead to combine well. Add a bit of water, as needed, to make a dough that is easy to knead. Finally, add the raisins and knead a while longer to incorporate them.

Cut the dough into eight pieces and give them oblong shapes (see photo below). Place on a baking sheet lined with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper. With the back of a knife blade, make a grid on the top of each gialletto. Cover with a cloth and let leaven in a warm place (I did it for 1 1/2 hour). They will rise a bit, but not a lot, given the flour mix.

Pre-heat the oven to 350 F. Bake the gialletti for 15 minutes or so (I baked them for 16 minutes). Transfer to a rack to cool.

I enjoyed eating Artusi's gialletti with some of my homemade cheese and they also pair well with chocolate. My husband likes them au naturel.

Note: you can find the English version of the recipe in the translation of Artusi's book that I have referenced in the past. The translation shows "50 g (about 1 ounce)" of butter. Based on the original and the conversion value, 50 appears to be a typo: it should be 30. Also, the translation directs you to make a pre-ferment with half the cornmeal and the yeast. The original uses half of the wheat flour.

This is my second contribution to the 15th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I have started some time ago.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

This is also my submission for the third installment of the Abbecedario culinario d'Italia (Italian Culinary ABC), an event organized by Trattoria MuVarA that will bring us to visit all the 20 regions of Italy using the alphabet as guide. C come Chioggia is hosted by Marta of Mangiare è un po' come viaggiare. Chioggia is a town south of Venice and in our tour it represents the region Veneto.

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

zaletti (gialletti dell'Artusi I)

or launch the zaletti (gialletti dell'Artusi I) 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.]

[jump to Comments]

cornmeal, raisins, Italian recipe

Per i lettori italiani

Al termine del capitolo 21 de Gli innocenti all'estero (1869), l'autore, Mark Twain, arriva a Venezia nell'ambito di un viaggio in Europa e Terra Santa compiuto nel 1867. Nei due capitoli successivi, vediamo Twain esplorare Venezia, meditare sul passato e presente della città e godersi i giri in gondola.

Twain arriva a Venezia in treno, come ho fatto anch'io tante volte. Ma per la mia visita più recente sono arrivata in aereo e dall'aeroporto mi sono goduta la lenta traversata della laguna al tramonto. Appena arrivata al mio alloggio, ho lasciato la valigia e sono uscita a fare una passeggiata per Venezia di notte. Anche Twain è affascinato dalla città in versione notturna.

Quando visito Venezia ho una vaga idea di quello che voglio visitare ma per la maggior parte del tempo lascio che sia il caso a dirigere il mio cammino. Raramente uso i trasporti sull'acqua, preferendo girovagare e perdermi a piedi.

Twain, invece si muove in gondola ed è affascinato dai movimenti del gondoliere tanto da confessare di prestare più attenzione a studiare la maestria del gondoliere che ad ammirare i palazzi. (I passaggi ai quali mi riferisco sono riportati in originale nella versione inglese del post. Perdonate l'assenza della versione italiana: non ho trovato una traduzione di Twain online e a farla io non mi sento qualificata.)

forcola

Durante la mia visita recente, durata purtroppo solo un giorno, ho focalizzato la mia attenzione e la mia macchina fotografica sulla forcola. L'ispirazione mi è venuta dall'essermi trovata di fronte ad un laboratorio di remèr. Ho imparato che ogni forcola è fatta a misura del gondoliere ed è un pezzo unico nonche un'opera d'arte. Se osservate una gondola parcheggiata, potete notare che c'è un foro rettangolare dove va posizionata la forcola. Quando la gondola è a riposo, la forcola viene rimossa sia perché essendo sporgente può essere urtata e sia perché è un pezzo prezioso e non viene lasciato incustodito. Questo me lo ha spiegato un gondoliere.

Nelle vetrine di forni e pasticcerie a Venezia, tra i vari dolci in mostra, ci sono gli zaletti, dalla forma allungata e la superficie imbiancata di zucchero a velo dal quale fanno capolino acini di uvetta. (Non ho una foto ma ne potete vedere una in questo post di Kathy del blog Food Lover's Odyssey.) Twain non parla di quello che ha mangiato a Venezia quindi non so se ha assaggiato degli zaletti (o zaeti). Chiamati anche gialletti, il nome pare si riferisca al colore giallo dorato che viene loro dalla farina di mais con cui sono fatti. La mia memoria di zaletti è vaga e inaffidabile come base per prepararli e quindi ho guardato in giro alla ricerca di ricette. Quelle che ho trovato sono ricche di burro e io volevo qualcosa di semplice.

Mi sono quindi rivolta all'Artusi, nel cui libro ci sono due ricette per gialletti la prima delle quali usa il lievito di birra. Ho deciso di esplorare questa alternativa. Le ricette moderne usano tutte il lievito chimico. Un articolo su cookaround menziona un libro di cucina che precede quello di Artusi e la ricetta per zalletti alla veneziana che esso contine utilizza pasta lievitata e non contiene zucchero. Il libro si intitola La nuova cucina economica ed è opera di Vincenzo Agnoletti. La prima edizione risale al 1803 e la seconda, intitolata La nuovissima cucina economica, al 1814. Al termine della mia ricerca, sono soddisfatta della mia determinazione a preparare gli zaletti con il lievito naturale. Ho intenzione di provare a seguire la ricetta di Agnoletti, che è diversa da quella dell'Artusi, per la prossima fase della mia esplorazione degli zaletti.

La ricetta dell'Artusi (che riporto in fondo al post) è piuttosto dettagliata, ma non fornisce informazioni quali la quantità di acqua e il tempo di lievitazione e cottura. Le prime due volte ho usato tutta la farina di mais tipo fioretto che ottengo come parte della mia cassettina di granaglie (e che quindi è macinata fresca), mentre la terza volta ho sostituito una parte con della farina di mais macinata più fina (fumetto). I gialletti fatti solo con il fioretto sono un tantino più rustici e mio marito li preferisce. Io invece ho una leggera preferenza per quelli fatti anche con farina più fine. La ricetta originale usa metà strutto e metà burro. Io ho dello strutto che ho fatto e quindi ne ho usato un pochino. In totale, ho dimezzato le quantità date dall'Artusi e ho oattenuto così otto gialletti.

Ingredienti:

• 50 g farina di grano (medio-forte, dal momento che useremo il lievito secco o di birra)
• 30 ml acqua a temperatura ambiente (o tiepida)
• 1 cucchiaino (5 ml) lievito secco istantaneo [Artusi userebbe 10 g di lievito di birra]
• 150 g farina di mais tipo fioretto [o 50 g di fioretto e 100 g di farina di mais fumetto]
• 90 ml acqua bollente
• 1/2 cucchiaio (7.5 ml) zucchero fine
• 30 g burro morbido [o 10 g strutto e 20 g burro]
• un pizico di sale
• 50 g uvetta

In una tazza, mescolare metà della farina di grano, il lievito e l'acqua a temperatura ambiente. Lasciar fermentare fino a quando si vedono bolicine in superficie. Per me, 45 minuti. Nel frattempo, in una ciotola, mescolare la farina di mais, il resto della farina di grano, zucchero e sale. Versarci sopra l'acqua bollente e mescolare bene.

Aggiungere la pasta fermentata e impastare bene. Aggiungere poca acqua, se necessario, per ottenere un impasto che si lavora bene. Aggiungere l'uvetta e impastare fino a quando sia ben distribuita.

Tagliare l'impasto in otto pezzetti e formare dei fusi / mandorle (vedi foto in basso). Adagiarli su una lastra da forno coperta con tappetino di silicone per forno o carta da forno. Con la parte dietro di una lama di coltello, incidete una griglia sulla superficie. Coprire con un canovaccio e lasciar lievitare in luogo caldo (per me, un'ora e mezzo). I gialletti lieviteranno leggermente, ma non in modo spettacolare, dato il mix di farine.

Scaldare il forno a 175 C. Cuocere i gialletti per 15-16 minuti (Artusi dice che devono rimanere morbidi). Trasferire su una griglia e lasciar intiepidire.

I gialletti dell'Artusi accompagnano bene il mio formaggio fatto in casa e anche il cioccolato. A mio marito piacciono al naturale.

Questo è il mio secondo contributo alla 15ima edizione di Novel Food, l'evento culinario/letterario che Lisa di Champaign Taste ed io abbiamo creato qualche tempo fa.

Questo post contiene il riepilogo dell'evento.

Questo è il mio contributo all'Abbecedario culinario d'Italia, un evento organizzato dalla Trattoria MuVarA che ci porterà a visitare tutte le regioni italiane utilizzando come guida l'alfabeto. C come Chioggia è ospitata da Marta di Mangiare è un po' come viaggiare

Questo post contiene la lista dei contributi: che buon menu!

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592. GIALLETTI I

Signore mamme, trastullate i vostri bambini con questi gialletti; ma avvertite di non assaggiarli se non volete sentirli piangere pel caso molto probabile che a loro ne tocchi la minor parte.

Farina di granturco, grammi 300.
Detta di grano, grammi 100.
Zibibbo, grammi 100.
Zucchero, grammi 50.
Burro, grammi 30.
Lardo, grammi 30.
Lievito di birra, grammi 20.
Un pizzico di sale.

Con la metà della farina di grano e col lievito di birra, intrisi con acqua tiepida, formate un panino e ponetelo a lievitare. Frattanto impastate con acqua calda le due farine mescolate insieme con tutti gl'ingredienti suddetti, eccetto l'uva. Aggiungete al pastone il panino quando sarà lievitato, lavoratelo alquanto e per ultimo uniteci l'uva. Dividetelo in quindici o sedici parti formandone tanti panini in forma di spola, e con la costola di un coltello incidete sulla superficie d'ognuno un graticolato a mandorla. Poneteli a lievitare in luogo tiepido, poi cuoceteli al forno o al forno da campagna a moderato calore onde restino teneri.

fatto a mano con amore

handmade with love

You may have noticed a new badge on briciole's sidebar

It was created by the wonderful people at TypePad and offered to bloggers whose interest is in handmade things. As you know, briciole is mostly about things handmade in the kitchen (cucina), but I like to make things with my hands also outside of it, and I thought this would be a nice way to meet new bloggers and learn new things.

Let me introduce you to three of them whose blog I visited this past week:

Molly of Molly Hashimoto is an artist and teacher in Seattle. On her blog, you can see her beautiful illustrations, bird and landscape paintings, and prints. After "meeting" online, Molly and I have corresponded and have a little project ongoing that I will describe in a future post.

Elise of Elise Blaha has a wide array of interests, and is currently working on completing 26 projects before she turns 27. Her most recent one is a nice wreath made of driftwood. I am not sure about the rest of the country, but if you live on the west coast, like Elise (SoCal) or Simona (NorCal), collecting driftwood on the beach (spiaggia) is an impulse difficult to resist: the possibilities are too tempting. I have a stash of small pieces of driftwood that I use in my book projects, like the one below (if you'd like to know more about artists' books, you can read a short piece I recently wrote on the subject)

Mine - photo by North Redwoods Book Arts

Cassie of You Go Girl writes about "fun stuff" and her blog is fun to read. Her recent post on crocheting (lavorare ad uncinetto) reminded me of another skill I have. (The last small project I did was used to make a Valentine card for my husband: I just saw it the other day in his office.) This post about a crime committed in her house is quite hilarious.

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It was very interesting to browse those three blogs and I will certainly do more of it. briciole is and will be for the foreseeable future about my experiments in the kitchen and my Italian heritage. However, one one the things I would like to do this year is to talk a bit more about other things I do when I am not generating dirty pots and pans (pentole e padelle) for my patient husband and dirty bowls and various other cooking implements for my dishwasher (lavastoviglie).

In that spirit, I am sharing a few photos from a recent project handmade with love for the January book exchange of the North Redwoods Book Arts Guild:

To see the caption and description of each photo, see the slideshow on flickr.

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

fatto a mano con amore

or launch the fatto a mano con amore 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.]

book , dinner

zuppa di verza e cavolo riccio per Anna

Savoy cabbage and kale soup for Anna

Savoy cabbage and kale soup

Since I started writing (mostly about food), I look at memories and memoirs with a different eye. I grew up with a father who was constantly narrating stories and a mother who basically never did. When I was a kid, I listened to my father, but I was not fully aware of how important such transfer of information was. Now I have a different perspective.

A little voice inside me has been saying that I should record my father's stories. The voice grew firmer after I read Anna, Heart of a Peasant, by Carol Marie Davis. Ms. Davis is Anna's granddaughter and is also Rachel's mother and Rachel writes The Crispy Cook and co-hosts the Cook the Books Club.

Anna's story is different from that of any member of my family, since none of them traveled half-way across the world and started a new life in a place utterly different from the one in which they had grown up. My maternal grandmother moved from Croatia next door to Italy after marrying, but I have no idea what she thoughts of her adoptive country. I guess I did move half-way across the world, and I can tell you that it was not an easy transition, although I had several advantages over Anna, not the least of them the fact that I spoke the language and I had someone waiting for me in California. Anna was sent away from her native village in Byelorussia (now Belarus) following a terrible accident (I am trying not to give away too much here) and after a brief interlude, she boarded a ship headed towards America.

In the first part of the book, Ms. Davis recreates the life of Anna's family in the countryside of Byelorussia, a life steeped in popular traditions that coexist with religious faith. In the second part, we see Anna holding on to the traditional knowledge her grandmother had transmitted to her, while adjusting to the ups and downs of life in the US (having arrived in 1914, Anna experienced, among other things, the Great Depression).

The book follows Anna as she gets married, starts a family, moves into a house, raises children and grandchildren in Hastings-on-Hudson (NY). The last chapter includes a moving photograph of Anna and her husband, saying goodbye to each other on the grounds of a nursing home. The photo was taken by Ms. Davis and I want to think that it represents how she remembers her grandparents: looking at each other, holding hands. Together, they've gone through a lot.

The last pages of the book contain a set of recipes, a tribute to Anna's cooking. When I read them, I had no doubts about my choice: cabbage soup. Interestingly enough, the same recipe caught the attention of other readers of the book. In particular, Rachel, Anna's great-granddaughter, has made the soup and I refer you to her post on the topic for the original recipe. I made a number of changes to adapt it to my taste and ingredients I have available. I used a lovely purple Savoy cabbage, locally grown, and Red Russian kale from my garden. I added a bit of celery and thyme to the garlic, onion and carrot base, used fire-roasted crushed tomatoes instead of puréed tomatoes, omitted the sugar and cut down the lemon juice. Finally, I topped the soup with homemade kefir instead of sour cream.

purple Savoy cabbage

Ingredients:

• 1 1/4 pound Savoy cabbage sliced into 1/2-inch ribbons
• 3/4 pound Red Russian kale, thick ribs removed and sliced into 1/2-inch ribbons
  
• olive oil
• 3 tablespoons minced garlic (aglio)
  
• 1 large onion (cipolla), chopped
• a few sprigs of fresh thyme
• 1 large carrot (carota), chopped
• half a celery rib (costa di sedano), chopped
• 1 quart (4 cups) homemade light chicken stock or vegetable option
  
• 1 28-ounce can fire-roasted crushed tomatoes
• 1 tablespoon of tomato paste (concentrato di pomodoro)
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• salt and freshly milled black pepper
• homemade kefir (optional)

In a large soup pot, heat oil and sauté garlic for a couple of minutes, then add onion and thyme and sauté for a few minutes, then add carrot and celery and cook for 5-7 minutes, stirring often. Add stock, tomatoes, tomato paste, and bay leaf and simmer for 10 minutes or so, until carrots are tender.

Take out the bay leaf and discard. Purée with an immersion blender. Add lemon juice, cabbage and kale, and 3 cups of water. Simmer until cabbage is cooked (in my case it was about 45 minutes). Add more water, if needed, to obtain a soup of the desired consistency. Adjust salt and pepper and serve topped with some homemade kefir.

kale everywhere

Kale grows plentiful in my little vegetable garden and it reseeds itself, mostly due to the fact that I always let one or two plants go to seeds and then the seeds end up in my compost, so spreading the compost means spreading kale. I am not complaining: above you can see a corner of the garden where kale is a cover crop.

I am adding my thoughts on Anna, Heart of a Peasant to those of other bloggers, as you can see in this post, where Rachel of The Crispy Cook has gathered all the reviews. Thank you, Ms. Davis, for a very interesting read, and thank you, Rachel, for sharing your mother's book with us.

And I am sending this hearty soup to Souper (Soup, Salad & Sammies) Sundays, a weekly event created by Deb of Kahakai Kitchen (another co-host of the Cook the Books Club).

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 verza e cavolo riccio per Anna

or launch the zuppa di verza e cavolo riccio per Anna 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. I have not and will not receive any monetary compensation for discussing the book on my blog. The views expressed in the post are my own.

cabbage, kale, tomato, soup

ful medames

Egyptian fava bean dish

For the current edition of Cook the Books, we are reading Outlaw Cook by John Thorne, with Matt Lewis Thorne (1992). I started reading the book from the beginning, but then decided to follow my interests and jump around, choosing chapters based on their subject.

I enjoyed the chapter on plowman's lunch, which includes various recipes, like those for Welsh rabbit (yes, rabbit, not rarebit), soused cheese, and bread and cheese pudding. Considering that various types of homemade cheese are always available in my kitchen, I could have chosen one of the recipes, but I discarded the idea, because I don't like beer (birra), my knowledge of alcoholic beverages is very limited, and my knowledge of ale or stout is nil, so choosing a pairing with my cheese would have been a wild guess.

I read the chapter Monet À Table, which is the review of a book about the cooking journals of Claude Monet, with a special perspective: by pure chance, we are watching the TV mini-series The Impressionists, where an old Claude Monet tells the story of his career and his relationship with Renoir, Bazille, Degas, Cézanne and Manet to a journalist, and at some point offers him some of his homemade plum brandy. From Thorne's piece I learned that Monet grew greengage plums for it in his two-and-a-half-acre walled kitchen garden.

I also read with interest the chapter on ful medames, "Egypt's national dish" (piatto nazionale egiziano). From reading this post by Kalinda of Wheat-Free Meat-Free, I knew that ful medames is prepared using a special kind of small fava beans, but I had other plans. The dish had been for a while on my to do list as a way of making use of the locally grown and dried fava beans (fave secche) that I get as part of my mostly-grain CSA and that I have mentioned in the post about macco di fave.

You can read the chapter and Thorne's recipe. I halved the quantity of fava beans, used the optional lentils (lenticchie) as a belated homage to the New Year, and then adjusted the other ingredients to my taste:

• 1 cup of dried fava beans, soaked for 16 hours (or as needed) in plenty of water, then skin removed
• 1/4 cup green lentils
• 1 1/2 tablespoon olive oil
• 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice, plus to taste
• a pinch of dried lemon zest (this was my idea)
• a generous pinch of ground cumin (from freshly toasted and ground cumin seeds), plus to taste
• a garlic clove (spicchio d'aglio), peeled and chopped
• salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
• two small sprigs of fresh parsley (prezzemolo)

Bring to a boil 3 cups of cold water in a saucepan. Add the fava beans and cover. Bring back to a boil, cook for 10 minutes then lower the heath, add the lentils, cover again and simmer until the legumes are soft and can easily be mashed. (I cooked them for 50 minutes.) Note: I realized afterward that this 10 minutes are planned within the context of fava beans still in their skin. The next time I prepare this dish, I will add fava beans and lentils to the boiling water at the same time. This may well affect the cooking time. Mash the legumes roughly with a potato masher and let cool. The mash will absorb the water as it cools.

Pour the legumes into the food processor and add olive oil, lemon juice and zest, cumin, garlic, a bit of salt and pepper and parsley. Process until garlic and parsley are well distributed, then taste and adjust salt and pepper. Refrigerate until ready to use. Adjust lemon juice and cumin after the ful medames has rested for a while (I added more cumin). I think that the flavor matures and improves with time (at least one day).

The photo shows a plate I prepared for my husband's lunch, which included, besides the ful medames, drained homemade kefir (think of labneh made with kefir instead of yogurt), a hard-boiled egg (uovo sodo) and slices of my homemade challah.

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

This post contains the roundup of the event.

The fave secche make this post suitable for My Legume Love Affair 43, the current edition of the popular, legume-centered event created by Susan, The Well-Seasoned Cook, and hosted this month by Claire of Chez Cayenne.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

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

ful medames

or launch the ful medames 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.]

fava bean, Egypt

fagioli monete del papa

Christmas Lima beans

For the current edition of Cook the Books, we are reading Harlot's Sauce: A Memoir of Food, Family, Love, Loss, and Greece by Patricia Volonakis Davis. The author falls in love with Greece — or, to be more precise, with her idea of it — then with a man of Greek origin, Gregori. Their marriage ends in divorce, but in the process, Volonakis Davis experiences life in her beloved Greece and gets to know herself and her capabilities. Throughout the book, the tone is delightfully self-deprecating, which makes the reading eminently enjoyable, even — maybe especially — when we recognize ourselves in the protagonist.

The book talked to me, so to say, on an additional level: In describing what it meant to grow up in an Italian-American family, Volonakis Davis shows that certain cultural values survived intact the Atlantic crossing. She does a great job explaining the concept of figura. I have an emotional — rather than intellectual — sense of what it means. It's a fundamental tenet of education in an Italian family: you are supposed to always fare una bella figura (literally, to cut a fine figure, in the sense of making a good impression), which then reflects well upon your family. The worst thing that can happen is fare una butta figura (literally, to cut a poor figure, in the sense of making a bad impression), which of course embarrasses the whole family. [Volonakis Davis also talks about malocchio (evil eye) and there, though I understand her, I have no direct experience: I don't remember anybody in my family ever mentioning it.]

Let me now move on to more lighthearted notes. At one point, Volonakis Davis talks about the beloved puppet mouse Topo Gigio and about calcio (soccer). One day, Topo Gigio was a guest at the Ed Sullivan Show. I honestly don't like that video for various reasons, so if you don't know who Topo Gigio is, I suggest you watch him sing Frank Sinatra's "Strangers in the Night" in this video. You can watch Topo Gigio on YouTube: I particularly like the videos where he is next to singer and dancer Raffaella Carrà. In talking about the soccer team (squadra di calcio) Cosmos, Volonakis Davis mentions the player Giorgio Chinaglia. I hadn't thought about Chinaglia in many years, but since my mother was a fan of Lazio, the team with which he played, I remember the brouhaha surrounding his move to the US (in 1976).

Back to the book, I read it with pleasure. I got very engrossed in the story, especially the part where Volonakis Davis builds a business while living in Greece. Food certainly plays a role: it could not be otherwise with an Italian family and a Greek one as protagonists. One of my favorite episodes of the book occurs in Crete, on the name day (in Italian, onomastico) of Gregori's uncle, who is a priest. Volonakis Davis describes the procedure followed to manage the visitors who come to the priest's house to offer well wishes: how visitors rotate in sitting with Papa Elias, what is served to whom, etc.

As the tension within the marriage grows, Patricia and Gregori express their unhappiness in various ways. For example, Gregori, called upon to prepare dinner, always makes beans, because his wife hates them (there is a bit more to the bean story, and you'll find out if you read the book). That reminded me of gigantes, the beautiful Greek giant beans (or elephant beans) I have admired in recipes by Ivy of Kopiaste and Peter of Kalofagas. I had never seen those beans, but I thought I would look for them, but then something happened that changed my plans.

In mid-October, I visited my hometown of Perugia and, as always when there, I went to Drogheria Bavicchi to get some legumes (see this post for more information). I was hoping to find more of the lenticchie nere ennesi that I described in this guest post, bu alas! no such luck. However, one cannot leave that store empty-handed: they have such a selection of legumes that I always find something new to me. This time was no exception. The first type of bean I got is quite large and really pretty, burgundy mottled. It is a type of lima bean that actually exists in this country too: it is called Christmas Lima or Chestnut Lima bean. I had in fact seen it in a store in the Bay Area and liked the way it looked.

The beans I purchased are called monete del Papa (literally, Pope's coins) and are not grown in Umbria, but they come from Piemonte, in the Italian Northwest. I was recommended to soak them for 24 hours. In terms of preparation, I decided to give the whole stage to the beans and their bold flavor reminiscent of boiled chestnuts (castagne, hence their name), with some onion (cipolla) as supporting cast. I prepared them the first time for my father and he liked them a lot. I bought more and prepared them for my husband in the same way.

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for fagioli monete del papa

Ingredients:

• 125 g / 4 oz. Christmas (or Chestnut) Lima beans (about 1 cup)
• 8 oz. cipollini onion (or other sweet onion), sliced into 1/8- to 1/4-inch thick half-moons
• olive oil
• several sprigs of fresh thyme
• sea salt and freshly milled black pepper, to taste

The way I cook beans for further use comes from "Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone" by Deborah Madison (Beans with Aromatics). Rinse beans well, then soak in 4 cups of water for 24 hours. Drain, place in a saucepan and add enought water to cover them by about one inch. Add a quarter of a large onion, halved, a bay leaf, a clove of garlic, quartered, and 3-4 sprigs of fresh parsley. Bring the water to a lively boil quickly, and keep it there for five minutes, then turn down the heat and let the beans simmer, covered, until they are ready. Note that these beans take quite a bit longer than smaller beans to cook. Taste them to assess when it is time to remove them from the heat. Let them cool in their broth, then remove the aromatics and discard them.

Oil a skillet and add onion and thyme leaves, and cook gently until onion is nice and soft. Add some broth, as needed, to keep the onion moist. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Drain beans and place in a bowl, add cooked onion, season appropriately, stir well and serve warm or at room temperature, with olive oil (olio d'oliva) drizzled on top.

As mentioned in a previous post, I get the "cipollini" onions in the photo from my mostly-fruit CSA, Neukom Family Farm. These onions are excellent in flavor and keep very well, so I am partial to them.

Going back to the passage that inspired me, I was particularly struck by the fact that in the relationship between Patricia and Gregori, food became a way of expressing growing unhappiness. We usually use food in the opposite way. Now, of course, I wonder if Volonakis Davis still hates beans. Update (December 14): in this post, you can read the answer to my question. Thanks, Patricia!

This is my contribution to the current edition of Cook the Books, hosted by Johanna of Food Junkie not Junk Food. You can find the guidelines for participating in the event here, and here is the announcement.

This post contains the roundup of the event. Update (December 14): the recipes contributed by Cook the Book Club's members are now featured on a page of the author's website.

The bold colored and flavored chestnut beans make this post suitable for My Legume Love Affair 41, 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 is, me).

This post contains the first part of the roundup and a link to the second part.

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

fagioli monete del papa

or launch the fagioli monete del papa 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.]

bean, onion

Novel Food #14: the finale

First came the announcement, then the various contributions arrived in my mailbox, and finally, today it is time for the roundup of the 14th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I created in 2007. Novel Food is about literary works (prose or poetry) that inspire the preparation of dishes.

Like all its predecessors, the current edition of the event includes an lovely set of readables and edibles. Please, follow me on a short literary/culinary tour. For each contribution, I will offer a small bite to whet your appetite for more: follow the link to read the details of the inspiring work of literature and of the inspired recipe. I hope that by the time you reach the end of this post, you will have a nice reading and cooking list to be used in the near future. With the Holidays coming up, it's nice to have some books in your wish list.

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Rachel of The Crispy Cook read the China Bayles herbal mystery series by Susan Wittig Albert and prepared Gluten-free Cinnamon Basil Cupcakes (from book 2: Witches' Bane)

"China is a former high-powered defense attorney who shifts gears mid-career to open up an herb shop surrounded by gardens in a small town." Each book has a different herbal theme "and one can learn a lot about gardening, folklore, the medicinal use of herbs and even try out some delicious recipes from the back of many of the books."

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Ruhama of rumahama went "old school" with Homer Price by Robert McCloskey, a collection of short stories, one of which inspired her to prepare Doughnuts

"In this particular story, Homer is at his uncle's diner. At this diner is a doughnut maker. And this doughnut maker has decided to operate with its own mind and goes crazy. Silliness ensues and all must figure out how to fix the problem."

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Phil of As Strong As Soup was inspired by Jacques Prévert's poem 'Lanterne Magique de Picasso' from the book ‘Paroles’ to prepare Gâteau de Riz and Grape Syrup Verrine

A line of the poem and the British habit of adding jam to a rice pudding merged to direct the creation of this dessert served in glass. The topping follows the same process as making a grape jelly... but stops short of allowing the jelly to set... The gâteau de riz layer is perhaps a little less firm than many French versions and is flavoured with lemon rather than vanilla."

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Paz of The Cooking Adventures of Chef Paz read August Heat by Andrea Camilleri (one of the Montalbano novels) and made Pappanozza

"Pappanozza... I like the way it sounds – fun. I like the way it rolls off my tongue – Pap-PA-noz-za. Pap-Pa-noz-za!... I love the simplicity with which the food is described and the plainness of the ingredients involved, and the way it’s prepared... This was nothing fancy, yet it tasted delicious. Like Inspector Montalbano, that is all I ate. I, too, wanted to keep to light food. It was perfect."

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Jo of Not An Everyday Circumstance read The Bridges of Madison County by Robert James Waller and was inspired to prepare vegetarian Stuffed Peppers

"One of the points driven home by the book is the ability to be yourself. One of the ways that this is demonstrated is through the food. Robert is a vegetarian, and Francesca has never really liked meat... with Robert, she can experiment. She can do what she wants and cook food that makes her happy. One of those foods is stuffed peppers... I created a vegetarian option that made use out of what I had in the pantry."

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Sandi of Whistlestop Cafe Cooking found inspiration in Beyond the Pasta by Mark Leslie handy and prepared Frittata con Zucchine e Cipolla (Zucchini and Onion Frittata)

"This book is a fun read... especially if you are at all interested in travel, food, or Italy... My copy of Beyond the Pasta was sitting right next to my knitting basket, where I can thumb through my favorite parts of the book. Page 17. Day One of Mark's trip to Italy. He is talking about his arrival to Italy and welcome into the family," and frittata con zucchine e cipolla comes out of Nonna's kitchen.

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Adele of tales of the basil queen found inspiration in The Magicians by Lev Grossman and prepared Swiss Chard Ravioli

Inspired by "a story about college and growing up that shows how even being able to do magic does not make coming of age any less awkward," comes "a dish that reminded me... of wandering into the kitchen late on a Saturday afternoon and watching a meal evolve, unplanned and unrehearsed, as more people trickled in with thoughts of food on their minds... The ravioli dish below uses a little trick I figured out just this year."

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Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook, was inspired by The Elephant Man and Other Reminiscences by Dr. Frederick Treves to prepare No-Hassle Hasselback Blue Potatoes

"Dr. Treves' careful and kind recollections of his discovery of and subsequent enriching friendship with Mr. Merrick... shows the rewards of suspending such judgment until a measured and patient evaluation can be made... It is probable that Mr. Merrick and Dr. Treves had never encountered the anomaly of blue potatoes arranged on their dinner plates. But I know that given each man's remarkable character, and joy in living and giving, that neither would have refrained from a single mouthful."

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Inspired by The Dante Club by Matthew Pearl, Simona of briciole prepared funghi, fagioli e castagne (Mushrooms, Beans and Chestnuts)

The novel revolves around a series of gruesome murders that occur in Boston and Cambridge (MA) while Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is working on a translation of Dante's Inferno. The thought of Dante's exile from his beloved Florence inspired the preparation of a dish that includes popular ingredients, including two, mushrooms, and chestnuts, usually gathered in the woods.

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Simona of briciole was also inspired by Georges Simenon's short novel The Blue Room to prepare frittata con pere asiatiche arrosto & crostatine (Roasted Asian Pear Frittata & Tartlets)

The "story brings the reader into a quiet corner of France, where life goes on fairly steadily, but where nothing goes on unremarked... When I saw the two half crostatine on the plate, I thought they were an apt metaphor for the lonely halves in the story, whose leitmotif is the inability to communicate. This inability, which we see in every character, not just the main ones, has tragic consequences."

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My special "thank you!" goes to the event's participants. The next edition of Novel Food will be in the spring: I will announce it here and on The Food Blog Diary, so stay tuned. The Food Blog Diary is the lovely event announcement site created and maintained by Jacqueline of Tinned Tomatoes. Visit the site to read about current events and let her know about your event and she will post it on her well-organized site. Thank you, Jacqueline!

In the meantime, read good books (maybe with the next Novel Food in mind), cook good foods, and otherwise savor life's local and seasonal offerings. Arrivederci!