briciole

minestra di fave e piselli

fava bean and English pea soup

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

a flavorful soup

Fresh fava beans and English peas (a.k.a., garden peas) were among the purchases I made last Sunday, at the Temescal Farmers' Market (Oakland, CA). By the time I had finished my shopping, I had already decided they would be married in a soup. I had to laugh aloud, considering how much I disliked both fava bean soup and pea soup, when my mother prepared them.

It wasn't only that I did not like either legume, but that I also had to shell them, a task hardly enjoyable for a child or teenager. Now, I don't mind doing it and since I don't like the skin of fava beans (which was the reason why I did not like the soup made with them), I also remove that.

The soup I made was inspired by this Tuscan recipe for onion soup on the Accademia Italiana della Cucina site (in Italian). In my soup, the balance of ingredients is different, so the result is a spring legume soup where the flavor of the fresh legumes shines brightly.

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for minestra di fave e piselli

Ingredients:

• 1 1/4 lb. [570 g] fresh fava beans
• 1 lb. [450 g] fresh English peas
• olive oil
• 8 oz. [225 g] red onion (cipolla rossa), finely chopped
• 2 scallions, sliced into thin rounds
• 1 celery rib (costa di sedano), finely chopped
• 1 carrot (carota), scrubbed and chopped
• 1.5 cup [355 ml] homemade light chicken stock or vegetable option
• 1 cup [240 ml] water
• 4-5 basil leaves, slivered
• sea salt and freshly milled black pepper
• slices of rye bread (pane di segale), or of other bread of choice
• freshly grated fiore sardo

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

Warm olive oil in a soup pot and add onion and scallions. Stir to coat and let cook for a few minutes. Add carrot and celery, stir and cook for 5-7 minutes, stirring often. Add the broth and water, cover, bring to a boil, then lower the heat and gently cook for 20 minutes, until the onion is soft.

Add the peas and basil, and cook for 5 minutes, then add the fava beans. Cook until the legumes are tender to your liking. Taste after 5-7 minutes and evaluate how much more time is needed. Adjust salt and pepper. When the soup is almost ready, toast the bread and line the bottom of soup bowls. Pour hot soup over the bread and let sit for a minute, then sprinkle cheese on the soup and serve immediately.

This soup is totally worth the effort needed to prepare the legumes.

This is my contribution to edition #334 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 Brii of briggishome.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

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

minestra di fave e piselli

or launch the minestra di fave e piselli audio file [mp3].

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soup, fava beans, English peas

Per i lettori italiani

una minestra saporita

Al Temescal Farmers' Market (Oakland, CA) domenica scorsa ho comprato fave e piselli freschi. Non mi ci è voluto molto per decidere che avrei fatto sposare i due legumi in una minestra. Mi è venuto da ridere, considerando quanto detestassi sia la minestra di fave che quella di piselli che preparava mia madre.

Il problema non era solo che non mi piacevano i due legumi, ma che toccava a me sgranarli, un compito non proprio divertente per una ragazzina. Adesso la cosa non mi dispiace affatto e dal momento che non mi piace la buccia delle fave (il motivo per cui non mi piaceva la minestra di fave), tolgo anche quella.

Per la minestra che ho preparato mi sono ispirata a questa ricetta toscana per una minestra di cipolle che ho trovato sul sito dell'Accademia Italiana della Cucina. Nella mia minestra l'equilibrio degli ingredienti è diverso e il risultato è una minestra di legumi primaverile nella quale splende il sapore dei legumi freschi.

Ingredienti:

• 570 g fave fresche
• 450 g piselli freschi
• olio d'oliva
• 225 g cipolla rossa, tagliata a pezzetti
• 2 cipolle verdi, tagliate e rondelle fini
• 1 costa di sedano, tagliata a pezzetti
• 1 carota, tagliata a pezzetti
• 355 ml brodo di pollo leggero fatto in casa, o brodo vegetale
• 240 ml acqua
• 4-5 foglie di basilico
• sale fino e pepe macinato fresco, q.b.
• fettine di pane di segale o di altro pane a scelta
• fiore sardo macinato fresco

Sgranare piselli e fave. Sbollentare le fave per un minuto, scolarle e versarle in acqua fredda. Scolarle di nuovo e sbucciarle.

Scaldare dell'olio d'oliva in una pentola e aggiungere i due tipi di cipolla. Mescolare e far cuocere alcuni minuti, poi aggiungere carota e sedano, mescolare e lasciare cuocere per 5-7  minuti. Versare il brodo e l'acqua nella pentola. Coprire, portare ad ebollizione e poi cuocere a fuoco dolce per 20 minuti, fino a quando la cipolla sia tenera.

Aggiungere i piselli e il basilico a pezzetti, e cuocere a fuoco dolce per 5 minuti, poi aggiungere le fave. Cuocere fino a quando i legumi siano teneri in accordo al vostro gusto. Assaggiare dopo 5-7 minuti e valutare quanto tempo sia ancora necessario. Condire con sale e pepe a seconda del gusto. Quando la minestra è quasi pronta, tostare il pane e disporlo sul fondo dei piatti da minestra. Versarci sopra la minestra bollente e lasciar riposare per un minuto, poi spargere del formaggio sulla superficie e servire immediatamente.

Questa minestra ripaga dello sforzo necessario per preparare i legumi.

Questo post è il mio contributo all'edizione numero 334 di Weekend Herb Blogging, un evento creato da Kalyn di Kalyn's Kitchen, organizzato ora da Haalo di Cook (almost) Anything at Least Once, la cui versione italiana è organizzata da Brii di briggishome, e ospitata questa settimana da A.B.C. di Fragoliva.

Questo post contiene la raccolta dell'evento.

minestra di cicerchie

cicerchia soup

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

minestra di cicerchie

Cicerchia (Lathyrus sativus) is a legume that, according to this page (in Italian), was once widely consumed, while nowadays, it is grown only in central Italy.

before (bottom) and after soaking

Cicerchie are available only dried: prior to cooking, they must be soaked for 24 hours and the soaking water must be eliminated because it contains a neurotoxic amino acid (ODAP or BOAA) that can cause lathyrism. This condition was and remains a problem when and where lack of alternative food sources led to consumption of large quantities of Lathyrus. As Hank of Hunter Angler Gardener Cook says in this post: "Make these beans a special treat, not a staple, and you’ll be fine." Our consumption of cicerchie has been occasional and I follow the preparation instructions.

I got the cicerchie in the photo at Bavicchi, the store in downtown Perugia that I mentioned in this and other posts. The reference to Perugia in not accidental. In fact...

Perugia: Fontana Maggiore

our tour of the 20 regions of Italy organized by Trattoria MuVarA brings us to my home region: Umbria. If you're familiar with my blog, you know that I was born and grew up in beautiful Perugia. (This post has a few more photos of the city in the heart of Italy.)

My presentation of legumes that are traditional of Umbria already includes lenticchie di Castelluccio, fagiolina del Lago Trasimeno and roveja. To prepare cicerchia, today's legume, I consulted the repository of traditional Italian recipes, the Accademia Italiana della Cucina and there I found an Umbrian recipe for minestra di cicerchie. The English version of the recipe is available in the book by the Academy called La Cucina: The Regional Cooking of Italy. According to the recipe headnote, cicerchie were a popular legume among Umbria peasants. As always, I altered the recipe to adjust it to my taste and then prepared a variation of it. If you don't have cicerchie, the soup can be made with chickpeas (ceci).

Ingredients:

• 1 cup cicerchie
• olive oil
• 6 oz. roasted strained tomatoes (thawed, since they were made last year and frozen) [the original recipe calls for strained tomatoes]
• one large clove of garlic, or two small, minced
• 2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley (prezzemolo)
• 6 mint (menta) leaves, broken into small pieces with your hands (I used my orange mint)
• water
• 1 cup [240 ml] homemade light chicken stock or vegetable option
• sea salt and freshly milled black pepper, to taste

For the variation:

• quadrucci (see below)
• freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano

Soak the cicerchie for 24 hours in 4 cups of water then drain and discard the water. Put in a saucepan and pour water to a level above the cicerchie. Bring to a boil, then lower the heat. Simmer, covered, until tender. The original recipe mentions a long cooking time (roughly 2 hours), which does not match my experience (less than half that time), so check the progress periodically. Also, during cooking, some of the cicerchie lost their skin and I discarded it.

Warm a bit of olive oil in another saucepan, then add garlic and herbs. Cook for a minute or so, until the garlic smells fragrant, stirring, then add the strained tomatoes. Cook into a sauce. In my case, about 8 minutes. Add the cooked cicerchie and let cook in the tomato sauce for 10 minutes, then add the stock plus enough water to make a soup of desired consistency. Continue cooking for 10 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste and serve immediately.

I served the soup with lightly toasted slices of homemade rye bread (pane di segale), as shown in the top photo.

minestra di cicerchie with Parmigiano-Reggiano

I made a batch of tagliatelle alla borragine and cut into quadrucci (small squares) the pieces of pasta too short: my mother used to do this when she made tagliatelle, which was pretty much every Sunday.

I cooked the quadrucci in the soup (this only takes a few minutes). Before serving it, I enriched the soup with Parmigiano-Reggiano. Either way, it was a nice dinner soup, the flavor of cicerchie earthy and unique, reminiscent of both chickpeas and lentils.

This is my submission for the sixth 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. F come Foligno (representing Umbria) is hosted by Cristina of La cucina di Cristina. This page has the list of all dishes prepared for the event.

This is another nice soup for Souper (Soup, Salad & Sammies) Sundays, a weekly event created by Deb of Kahakai Kitchen. 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.

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

minestra di cicerchie

 or launch the minestra di cicerchie 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.]

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soup, cicerchia, Italian recipe

Per i lettori italiani

minestra di cicerchie

La cicerchia (Lathyrus sativus) è un legume che, secondo quanto scritto su questa pagina una volta era molto consumato, mentre oggi viene coltivato solo in Italia centrale .

prima (in basso) e dopo l'ammollo

Le cicerchie si trovano solo secche: prima di cuocerle occorre tenerle in ammollo per 24 ore e l'acqua deve poi essere eliminata, poiché contiene un amminoacido neurotossico che può causare latirismo. Tale condizione era e rimane un problema dove e quando la mancanza di fonti alimentari alternative porta al consumo di sostanziali quantità di Lathyrus. Il nostro consumo di cicerchie è molto occasionale e io seguo le istruzioni per la preparazione.

Le cicerchie nella foto le ho comprate da Bavicchi, il negozio di Perugia dove faccio la mia spesa di legumi menzionato in questo e altri post. Il riferimento a Perugia non è accidentale. Infatti...

Perugia: la Fontana Maggiore

il giro delle regioni italiane organizzato da Trattoria MuVarA ci porta nella mia regione nativa: Umbria. Sono infatti nata e cresciuta a Perugia. (Questo post ha altre foto della città.)

In post precedenti ho parlato di legumi tradizionali umbri: lenticchie di Castelluccio, fagiolina del Lago Trasimeno e roveja. Per preparare un piatto a base di cicerchie ho consultato il sito dell'Accademia Italiana della Cucina e ho trovato una ricetta umbra per minestra di cicerchie. Come al solito, ho adattato la ricetta ai miei gusti e poi ho preparato una variazione. Se non trovate le cicerchie, potete preparare questa minestra con i ceci.

Ingredienti:

• 180 g cicerchie
• olio d'oliva
  
• 170 g pomodori arrosto passati (scongelati, dal momento che li ho preparati e congelati l'anno scorso) [la ricetta originale prevede passata di pomodoro]
• un grosso spicchio d'aglio (o due piccoli) tritato
  
• 2 cucchiai di prezzemolo tritato
• 6 foglie di menta (io ho usato la mia menta arancio) spezzettate con le mani
  
• acqua
• 240 ml brodo di pollo leggero fatto in casa o brodo vegetale
  
• sale fino e pepe nero macinato fresco, q.b.
  

Per la variazione:

• quadrucci
  
• Parmigiano-Reggiano grattugiato fresco
  

Mettere le cicerchie in ammollo in un litro d'acqua. Dopo 24 ore, scolare le cicerchie e scartare l'acqua. Mettere le cicerchie in una pentola e aggiungere acqua fino a coprirle bene. Portare a bollore poi abbassare il calore. Cuocere a fuoco dolce fino a quando le cicerchie sono tenere. La ricetta originale parla di un tempo di cottura lungo (circa due ore) che non coincide con la mia esperienza (meno di un'ora), quindi il mio consiglio è di controllare periodicamente le cicerchie. Durante la cottura, un certo numero di cicerchie hanno perso la buccia e io l'ho scartata.

Scaldare un po' di olio d'oliva in una pentola, poi aggiungere aglio ed erbe aromatiche. Cuocere per un minuto circa, mescolando, fino a quando l'aglio sprigiona il suo aroma, poi aggiungere i pomodori. Cuocere fino ad ottenere un sughetto (nel mio caso, 8 minuti), poi versare nella pentola le cicerchie e farle cuocere nel sugo per 10 minuti. Versare nella pentola il brodo e abbastanza acqua da formare una minestra della consistenza desiderata. Continuare a cuocere per 10 minuti. Salare e pepare a seconda del gusto e poi servire. 

Ho servito la minestra con delle fettine di pane di segale fatto in casa leggermente tostate, come si vede nella foto in alto.

minestra di cicerchie with Parmigiano-Reggiano

Ho fatto le tagliatelle alla borragine e ho tagliato a quadrucci i pezzi di pasta troppo corti: mia madre faceva così quando faceva le tagliatelle, quasi tutte le domeniche.

Ho cotto i quadrucci nella minestra portata. Prima di servirla, ho aggiunto del Parmigiano-Reggiano. In entrambi le versioni, questa è un'ottima minestra. Il sapore delle cicerchie è particolare, e ricorda sia le lenticchie che i ceci.

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. F come Foligno è ospitata da Cristina di La cucina di Cristina. Su questa pagina trovate la lista dei piatti preparati per l'evento.

Questa minestra va anche a Souper (Soup, Salad & Sammies) Sundays, un evento settimanale creato da Deb di Kahakai Kitchen. Questo post contiene il riepilogo dell'evento.

Contribuisco questo post anche a My Legume Love Affair 47, edizione corrente del popolare evento "leguminoso" creato da Susan, The Well-Seasoned Cook, e ospitato questo mese da Priya of Mharo Rajasthan's Recipes.

minestra di verdure stile ribollita

ribollita-inspired vegetable soup

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

ribollita stage

Our tour of the 20 regions of Italy organized by Trattoria MuVarA brings us to Toscana (Tuscany). Though I like Firenze (Florence) and have been there many times, my favorite Tuscan city is Siena, which I featured in this post written after our most recent visit. (Siena is relatively close to my home town of Perugia.)

Siena: il Palazzo Comunale in Piazza del Campo

Siena was the second Italian city my (now) husband visited with me and we both have vivid memories of that occasion. I have always liked the famous Piazza del Campo, but seen my husband's jaw drop when, at the end of a narrow street, the view opened upon it, was a reminder of just how unique the place is.

To prepare something in honor of Tuscany, I went to my wish list and got to the letter "r", where I found ribollita, the famous Tuscan soup. The word ribollita literally means "boiled again." One day you make a pot of soup, then you add bread slices. The day after, you reheat it and it becomes ribollita. There is a bit more to it, but that is the basic idea.

In her cookbook Cucina Povera, Tuscan Peasant Cooking, Pamela Sheldon Johns has a recipe for ribollita that includes a timetable suggesting what to do with the soup on day 1 through 4. Here you can read Sheldon Johns' headnote and recipe, here is the version given by Kyle Phillips, and here is the version by Frank of Memorie di Angelina. Finally, this is the recipe on the Accademia Italiana della Cucina site: it is in Italian, but I am putting the link here anyway, so you can see that no quantity is given for any of the ingredients.

I never had ribollita when visiting Tuscany, which freed me from memory-based constraints. I had the intention to stay close to the tradition, but in the end I took liberties, so, I decided to call the soup I made for the event "ribollita-inspired." However, by using some things I had in the vegetable crisper (mostly from my vegetable patch), I was true to a philosophy that is dear to my heart: you use up everything you have, trying to turn it into something flavorful and healthy.

dry pinto beans

As part of my most recent grain CSA share, I received some local dry pinto beans  and decided to try them: most recipes I read use cannellini beans, while one uses zolfini beans (I have some of those, but that's a story for another day).

fava bean leaves

At the farmers' market, I found fava bean leaves (foglie delle fave), also called fava greens, which I had never tasted and had to try so I used those instead of cavolo nero (a.k.a., dinosaur, Tuscan, or black-leaf kale).

Once again, I make no claims about my rendition, but the spirit is there. This being a popular dish, recipes tend to be family-based and also seasonal. And in true popular cuisine style, I didn't weigh anything, so the recipe is a list of ingredients — which makes me laugh since such a behavior used to upset me when I asked my mother for one of her recipes.

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for minestra di verdure stile ribollita

Note: the non-leafy vegetables are cut into small pieces, a mix of sliced and diced, while the leafy vegetables are sliced into ribbons. In the list of ingredients I indicate this as "chopped."

1. olive oil
2. 1/4 large onion, chopped
3. 2 scallions, sliced into thin rounds
4. 1 large carrot, chopped
5. 1 small celery rib, chopped
6. 2 garlic cloves, minced
7. 2 small icicle radishes, chopped
8. a bunch of chard stalks, chopped (left over and/or from ingredient #15 below)
9. a mix of herbs (e.g., chopped parsley, leaves of thyme, chopped rosemary needles)
10. 1/2 cup dry pinto beans, cooked as explained in this post
11. 4 cups homemade light chicken stock, or vegetable alternative
12. 1 medium-small cabbage, divided into six wedges and shredded
13. water as needed
14. 1/4 lb. fresh fava bean leaves, chopped
15. a handful of greens for braised mix (chard, kale, mustard greens, etc.), thick ribs removed where necessary, chopped
16. sea salt and freshly milled black pepper, to taste
17. a squeeze of lemon juice
18. bread of choice: I baked this rye bread (without flowers but with caraway seeds), because I thought it would go well with the soup (and I was right); slices of country-style bread, possibly Tuscan (saltless) bread, are traditional

Warm olive oil in a soup pot (a terracotta pot is ideal, but I don't have one — yet) and add onion and scallions. Stir to coat and let cook for a few minutes. Add carrot and celery, stir and cook for a few minutes. Add garlic, then radishes and chard stalks (or whatever you want to use here) and finally the herbs. Let cook for a few minutes and in the meantime, mash the beans.

The recipes I have read instruct you to drain half the beans, and set those aside, then to mash the rest with the cooking liquid. I mashed all the beans in their broth, using a potato masher (so the result was not smooth), then added everything to the soup pot.

Next, pour the broth into the pot and then add the cabbage. Pour some water as well, but not quite to cover, since the cabbage will shrink as it cooks. Cover the pot, bring to a boil and cook gently for 50 minutes or so, until the cabbage is tender. Add the leafy greens, bring back to a boil and cook gently for 10 minutes or so, until everything is nice and just perfect in texture. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

vegetable soup stage

You can serve the soup at this point, by itself (as in the photo above), or ladled in bowls in which you have previously put a layer of thin bread slices. If you do the latter, cover each bowl and keep warm. Let the bread soak up the broth for 15 minutes or so, then serve. In this case, we can call it minestra di pane (bread soup). You can skip this part and go for the ribollita stage.

Put a layer of bread slices in another pot (again here, a terracotta one would be great), and pour soup on it. Depending on how much soup you have, make another layer of bread plus soup. Let the bread soak up the broth for several hours or overnight. When you want to serve the soup, reheat it. If you want a less dense soup, add a bit of water. Gently stir while reheating (this will break the bread), then serve hot with a bit of olive oil drizzled on top.

The splash of green in the top photo is a sort of pesto I made with the leftover fava bean leaves. It is not necessary of course, but it looks nice, doesn't it? The soup was excellent in all versions. 

If you become a fan of ribollita, you can learn to sing this song. Here are the words of the first part:

com'è squisita, com'è squisita la ribollita
e specialmente se ribollita l'è più squisita
se vuoi star bene qua nella vita
mangiati spesso una ribollita
e quando poi l'avrai finita
potrai leccarti pure le dita

how delicious, how delicious is ribollita
and if reheated, it's even more delicious
if you want to be healthy in this life
eat some ribollita often
and when you've finished it
you can also lick your fingers

This is my submission for the fifth 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. E come Empoli is hosted by Cinzia of Cindystar. This post contains the list of contributions and a slide show.

I am also sending this to My Legume Love Affair 46, the current edition of the popular, legume-centered event created by Susan, The Well-Seasoned Cook, and hosted this month by the creator herself. This post contains the roundup of the event.

And this hearty soup is perfect 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:

minestra di verdure stile ribollita

or launch the minestra di verdure stile ribollita 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.]

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soup, cabbage, fava-bean, Italian recipe

Per i lettori italiani

la mia ribollita

Siena è la seconda è che mio marito ha visitato con me. Vedere i suoi occhi pieni di meraviglia al nostro arrivo a Piazza del Campo mi diede un senso ancora più intenso di quanto sia bella.

Per preparare un piatto in onore della Toscana, ho consultato la mia lista d'attesa e alla letter "r" ho trovato ribollita, la famosa minestra Toscana. L'idea di base è la seguente: il primo giorno si prepara una pentola di minestra. Poi si aggiungono delle fette di pane. Il giorno dopo, si riscalda e diventa ribollita.

Non ho mai mangiato la ribollita quando sono stata in Toscana, il che mi ha reso libera di fare un po' quello che volevo. Sono partita con l'idea di rimanere vicina alla tradizione, ma alla fine ho fatto un po' quello che volevo, in base agli ingredienti che avevo a disposizione (in gran parte provenienti dal mio orticello) e quindi ho chiamato la mia minestra "stile ribollita."

fagioli pinto

Nella mia cassettina di granaglie più recente ho trovato dei fagioli pinto e ho deciso di usarli, invece dei cannellini. (Una ricetta che ho visto usa i fagioli zolfini, che ho e che userò quanto prima.)

foglie delle fave

Al farmers' market ho comprato un sacchetto di foglie delle fave, che avevo visto l'anno scorso ma non avevo ancora provato e le ho usate invece del cavolo nero.

Presumo che in Toscana ogni famiglia abbia la propria ricetta per la ribollita. La mia è tradizionale nello spirito, nel senso che utilizza ingredienti di stagione e di produzione locale. Da notare anche che la ricetta sul sito dell'Accademia Italiana della Cucina non specifica le quantità degli ingredienti: come vedrete, io farò altrettanto.

Nota: le verdure non a foglia sono tagliate a pezzetti, mentre quelle a foglia sono tagliate a nastri. Nella lista degli ingredienti, utilizzo per tutte l'aggettivo "tagliate."

1. olio d'oliva
2. 1/4 cipolla grossa, tagliata a pezzetti
3. 2 cipolle verdi, tagliate e rondelle fini
4. 1 carota grossa, tagliata a pezzetti
5. 1 piccola costa di sedano, tagliata a pezzetti
6. 2 spicchi d'aglio tritati
7. 2 piccoli ravanelli ghiacciolo, tagliati a pezzetti
8. una manciata di coste, tagliate a pezzetti (avanzate e/o dall'ingrediente numero 15 qui sotto)
9. un misto di erbe (per es., prezzemolo tritato, foglioline di timo, aghi di rosmarino tritati)
10. 1/2 tazza (120 ml) di fagioli pinto o cannellini, cotti come spiegato in questo post o come fate di solito
11. 4 tazze (950 ml) brodo di pollo leggero fatto in casa, o brodo vegetale
12. 1 cavolo cappuccio medio-piccolo, diviso in 6 spicchi e tagliato a nastri fini
13. acqua, q.b.
14. 120 g foglie delle fave, tagliate a nastri
15. una manciata di verdure a foglia (bietola, cavolo nero, cavolo riccio, ecc.), costa centrale rimossa, se necessario, tagliate a nastri
16. sale fino e pepe macinato fresco, q.b.
17. un po' di succo di limone
18. pane a scelta: io ho fatto questo pane di segale (senza i fiori ma con semi di cumino tedesco), perché pensavo che sarebbe stato perfetto con la minestra (e avevo ragione); tradizionalmente si usa il pane toscano

Scaldare dell'olio d'oliva in una pentola capiente (possibilmente di terracotta) e aggiungere i due tipi di cipolla. Mescolare e far cuocere alcuni minuti, poi aggiungere carota e sedano, mescolare e lasciare cuocere alcuni minuti. Aggiungere aglio, ravanelli e coste (o le verdure che volete usare qui) e le erbe aromatiche. Lasciare cuocere per alcuni minuti e nel frattempo schiacciare i fagioli.

Le ricette che ho consultato dicono di scolare la metà dei fagioli e metterli da parte e di schiacciare o ridurre in purè il resto nel loro brodo. Io ho schiacciato tutti i fagioli nel loro brodo usando questo tipo di schiacciapatate, quindi il risultato non era omogeneo, e ho aggiunto tutto insieme alla minestra.

Versare il brodo nella pentola e poi aggiungere il cavolo. Versare dell'acqua, ma non fino a coprire del tutto, dal momento che il cavolo cuocendo diminuirà di volume. Coprire la pentola, portare ad ebollizione e cuocere a fuoco dolce per circa 50 minuti, fino a quando il cavolo non sia tenero. Aggiungere le verdure a foglia, riportare a bollore e cuocere a fuoco dolce per circa 10 minuti, fino a quando tutto sia ben cotto e piacevole al palato. Condire con sale e pepe a seconda del gusto.

minestra di verdure

A questo punto potete servire la minestra da sola (come nella foto qui sopra) oppure versarla in piatti fondi nei quali avete messo uno strato di fettine di pane tagliate fine. Se fate questo, tenete in caldo i piatti. Fate riposare un quarto d'ora circa e poi servire. In questo caso, la minestra di verdure si pu&ochiamare minestra di pane. Potete saltare questo passaggio e andare diritto alla ribollita.

Disporre uno strato di pane in fondo ad un'altra pentola (possibilmente di terracotta) e versarci sopra della minestra. A seconda di quanta minestra avete, fare un altro strato di pane e minestra. Lasciar riposare per diverse ore o durante la notte. Quando volete servire la minestra, riscaldatela. Se preferite una minestra meno densa, aggiungere un po' d'acqua. Mescolare con delicatezza mentre la minestra si scalda, poi servire ben calda con un pochino d'olio spruzzato sulla superficie.

Il tocco di verde brillante nella foto in alto è una specie di pesto che ho fatto con le foglie delle fave che mi sono avanzate. Non è necessario, ma ci sta bene, non credete? La minestra è eccellente in tutte le versioni. 

Se diventate dei fan della ribollita, potete canticchiare questa canzone.

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. E come Empoli è ospitata da Cinzia di Cindystar. Questo post contiene la lista dei contributi e uno slide show.

Contribuisco questo post anche a My Legume Love Affair 46, edizione corrente del popolare evento "leguminoso" creato da Susan, The Well-Seasoned Cook, e ospitato questo mese da Susan stessa. Que sto post contiene il riepilogo dell'evento.

E questa minestra è perfetta per Souper (Soup, Salad & Sammies) Sundays, un evento settimanale creato da Deb di Kahakai Kitchen. Questo post contiene il riepilogo dell'evento.

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 experiencelife 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 some 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: funghi, fagioli e castagne

 mushrooms, beans and chestnuts

What are you reading now? I am finishing The Dante Club by Matthew Pearl, a very interesting novel. It brought back memories of studying Dante's Divine Comedy in school. I have not read it since, but episodes from it came back to mind easily while reading the novel.

Thus began the announcement I wrote for edition #14 of Novel Food, the culinary/literary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I started in the fall of 2007. Reading about Dante means thinking about Florence, the city where he was born, that he loved, and from which he was banned for political reasons, an event that forced him to be a guest elsewhere and learn "how salty other people's bread tastes" (Par. XVII, 58-59).

I honestly have not taken Dante in my hands after finishing high school. I am still not sure that making students spend hours over the poem is the best way to make them appreciate it. What is certain is that while my memory of pages from Purgatorio and Paradiso is nil, I can recite lines from Inferno, where the characters are deeply human in their frailties and sins. In particular, it is difficult to forget the opening words:

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita,
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
ché la diritta via era smarrita.

Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost.

or the ominous words Dante reads upon the entrance to Inferno, which ends with the famous line

Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch'intrate.

All hope abandon, ye who enter in!

(Longfellow's translation comes from this page: for each section of the original, click on Current English link at the bottom to see Longfellow's translation. What I like about this site is that you can also see the illustrations for the poem from Gustave Doré, Salvador Dali and Sandro Botticelli, and also maps of Inferno, which is divided into circles.)

One more word on Dante. In an enjoyable article published earlier this year on the English newspaper The Independent, the poet is number 13 among Italy's top 15 cultural exports. (However, I must correct the Italian in #2: it is Il dolce far niente.)

On to the novel: The Dante Club is set in Boston and Cambridge, MA, almost 600 years after Dante's birth (1265) and the protagonists are well-known literary figures of the time, starting from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, at work on the first translation of Dante's Inferno (the first book of the Divina Commedia) for the American public. Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr., James Russell Lowell and publisher James Thomas Fields are the other main characters, together with Nicholas Rey, the first black Boston policeman and of course the murderer, who, as the book proceeds, gets nicknamed Lucifer.

The Dante Club revolves around a series of gruesome murders. The author does a great job in maintaining the suspense, even when pieces of the puzzle start to get clear to the reader. The cold Boston winter contributes to the creation of a nightmarish atmosphere that keeps the reader hooked until the last chapter.

The story is gripping and well-told and the cast of characters includes interesting men and women. The underlying thread is the completion of the translation in time to be submitted to the celebration of Dante's anniversary. As always, when I choose a mystery for my post, I am afraid to reveal more and in so doing spoil the enjoyment. (This page has the full plot, so don't go there if you plan on reading the mystery.)

Inspired by the book, I first thought of replicating a medieval recipe (like I did with a Roman recipe in the previous version of Novel Food), but instead, as I was thinking about Dante in exile, wandering around in the fall and winter, I thought about chestnuts (which, turned into flour, are used in Tuscany to make a cake called castagnaccio), gathered in the woods of central Italy and mushrooms, another product of the woods. And so I decided to share here a dish that is a personal rielaboration of a recipe a dear relative described to me a few years ago. The most important change I made to it was substituting the original chickpeas (ceci) with beans. Instead of using Italian cannellini, I reached for locally grown canario beans, but cannellini would of course work just as nicely.

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for funghi, fagioli e castagne

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup of dry beans (canario or cannellini), soaked overnight and then cooked as described in this post
• 1/2 lb chestnuts
• a bay leaf
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 large onion (about 3/4 lb), chopped 
• 3 cloves of garlic, minced
• 2 tablespoons minced fresh rosemary needles (rosmarino)
  
• 1 lb white mushrooms (or a mix of various kinds: it would be great if it included some wild mushrooms), cleaned and sliced
• sea salt and freshly milled black pepper, to taste

Besides the beans, cook the chestnut in advace. Place chestnuts in a saucepan, cover abundantly with water and add the bay leaf. Bring to a boil and simmer until they are tender. Peel a large one and verify that it is cooked. Keep the chestnuts in the cooking water and take out one at a time to peel. Use a sharp knife with a pointed blade to remove the shell, then the skin. Set aside. (If a chestnut breaks, while being handled, it is fine, as it will be chopped later anyway.)

To prepare the dish, generously spray a deep sauté pan with olive oil and warm it up. Add the onion, garlic and rosemary and cook gently for 12-15 minutes, stirring often. When the onion is soft and translucent, turn up the heat slightly and add the mushrooms. Cook for 10 minutes, stirring a few times. Add the drained beans and 1/4 cup of their broth, cover and continue cooking for 5 minutes. Coarsely chop the chestnuts and add them to the pan. Simmer, uncovered, for 5 minutes. Sprinkle with salt and pepper, mix thoroughly and serve hot.

I always serve this dish alongside polenta. And I will soon fulfill my promise to devote a post to this traditional Italian dish. I start making polenta before I start cooking the dish, so that, by the time the former is ready, about 50 minutes later, the latter is also ready. In the photo above, the accompaniment is leftover polenta, sliced and warmed up in an oiled skillet on both sides, so a crisp skin forms.

Dante could not have eaten polenta as we know it, since during his lifetime corn (mais or granturco) was yet unknown in Europe. However, the Greeks, Romans and others who lived in Italy in ancient times made puls by cooking farro, millet (miglio) and other grains or chestnut flour in water or milk, then added legumes, vegetables, eggs and cheese for a nutritious meal. I imagine Dante ate versions of those dishes, so here is another connection.

This is my contribution to the 14th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I have started some time ago (this time I am hosting solo as Lisa is taking a break from blogging).

This post contains the roundup of the event.

The lovely canario 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

funghi fagioli e castagne

or launch the funghi, fagioli e castagne 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.]

beans, mushroom, chestnut

cucinare in trasferta: fagioli pinto freschi al pomodoro

cooking while away from my kitchen: fresh pinto beans in tomato sauce

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

In my previous post, I talked about our trip to Milwaukee and visit to the Milwaukee Art Museum and Fondy Farmer's Market.

At the market, among other items, we bought fresh shelled pinto beans. As you can see from the photo, they were sold next to borlotti (cranberry beans), and in both podded and shelled version (pinto in the pink buckets, borlotti in the purple ones).

The plan was to prepare the beans with a tomato sauce and I could have bought some tomatoes at the market for that, but they were sold is largecontainers  and I was also not sure I would find a grater in the apartment where we were staying to make crushed tomatoes, so I relied on a can of fire-roasted diced tomatoes¹ to help me prepare the dish. What I made is losely related to fagioli all'uccelletto.

I like the depth of flavor of the fire-roasted tomatoes, which I think goes very well with beans. The bowl in the background contains a mix of polenta and corn meal (farina di mais) that I brought from home to prepare polenta. It was one of the food items I packed. Others were two containers of homemade cookies (more on those in an upcoming post), my homemade caciotta cheese (already mentioned in this post) and a supply of chocolate.

Printer-friendly version of briciole's recipe for fagioli pinto freschi al pomodoro

Ingredients :

• a cup of shelled fresh pinto beans
• a bit of olive oil
• a large shallot (scalogno), finely chopped
  
• a 14.5 oz. can of organic diced fire-roasted tomatoes
• sea salt, to taste
• basil (basilico) chiffonade, 5-6 leaves
  

Put the beans in a small saucepan and cover them with water (I used two cups). Bring to a boil, then turn down the heat and cook the beans gently until just tender.

Warm up a bit of olive oil in a saucepan. Add the shallot, stir well to coat, then cook for a few minutes. Cover and continue cooking until the shallot is soft and translucent. Add the tomatoes, stir, bring to a gentle bubble, cover and cook for 10-12 minutes. If you want, mash some of the tomatoes with a potato masher or spoon.

Drain the beans and add to the tomato sauce. Again, bring back to a gentle bubble and cook for 15 minutes, or until the beans are cooked to your liking. Take the pan off the heat. Adjust the salt, if needed (the canned tomatoes contain salt), then add basil, and stir well to distribute.

Serving option #1: place a portion of beans in a bowl and distribute on the surface thin slices of caciotta or similar cheese. Cover the bowl and let stand for a few minutes, so the heat from the beans softens the cheese. Serve accompanied with toasted slices of country-style bread (pane casereccio).

Serving option #2: serve beans with a side of soft polenta. I will write more about my polenta soon. Suffice here to say that I added to it some of my caciotta cheese at the end of the cooking time. Again here you can experiment with other cheeses.

This is my submission for My Legume Love Affair 39, the current edition of the popular, legume-centered event created by Susan, The Well-Seasoned Cook, and hosted this month by Cathy of What Would Cathy Eat?

This post contains the roundup of the event.

I am also sending this post to Tin Can Recipes, a monthly event that will run until the end of this year. The organizers are Ale, Fra, Sere and Paola of Il Giardino degli Aromi and Brii of briggishome. The rules for participating are detailed on this page.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

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

fagioli pinto freschi al pomodoro

or launch the fagioli pinto freschi al 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.]

¹ The can of tomatoes in the photo is for information only: it is not an advertisement. I do not have a business relationship with the product's company.

[jump to Comments]

bean, corn, tomato

Per i lettori italiani

Nel post precedente ho parlato del nostro viaggio a Milwaukee e della visita al Milwaukee Art Museum e al Fondy Farmer's Market.

Al mercato abbiamo comprato, tra gli altri prodotti, un secchiello di fagioli pinto freschi sgranati. Come potete vedere nella foto, i fagioli pinto erano in vendita vicino ai borlotti, sia nel baccello che sgranati (i pinto nei secchielli rosa, i borlotti in quelli viola).

L'idea era quella di preparare i fagioli coi pomodori e per attuarla avrei potuto comprare dei pomodori al mercato, ma erano in vendita in cestelli piuttosto grossi e non ero sicura che nell'appartamento dove abbiamo alloggiato avrei trovato gli attrezzi per preparare la salsa, quindi ho deciso di comprare una scatola di pomodori arrostiti sulla fiamma a pezzi¹. Il piatto che ho preparato si ispira ai fagioli all'uccelletto.

La ciotola in secondo piano contiene farina di mais per fare la polenta che mi ero portata da casa (di fatto è un misto di quello che qui chiamano polenta, a grana piuttosto grossa, e cornmeal macinato a pietra, a grana più fine). Altri generi alimentari che avevo messo in valigia sono: due contenitori di biscotti fatti in casa (prossimamente su questo blog), la mia caciotta fatta in casa (già menzionata in questo post) e una scorta di cioccolato (mai viaggiare senza!).

Ingredienti per i fagioli al pomodoro:

• una tazza (240 ml) di fagioli pinto freschi sgranati (vedi Nota in basso)
  
• un po' di olio d'oliva
• uno scalogno piuttosto grosso, tagliato fine
• una scatola da 410 g di pomodori arrostiti sulla fiamma a pezzi
• sale, q.b.
• 5-6 foglie di basilico tagliate a chiffonade

Nota: non ho pesato i fagioli per mancanza di una bilancia, quindi ho solo il volume.

Mettere i fagioli in una piccola pentola e coprirli con acqua (io ho usato 2 tazze, 480 ml). Portare a ebollizione, abbassare la fiamma e cuocere a fuoco dolce fino a quando i fagioli sono appena teneri.

Scaldare un po' d'olio in una pentola, aggiungere lo scalogno, mescolare e lasciar cuocere per qualche minuto. Coprire e continuare a cuocere fino a quanto lo scalogno è tenero. Aggiungere i pomodori e mescolare. Portare a lieve bollore e far cuocere per 10-12 minuti. Se volete, potete schiacciare parte di pomodori con un cucchiaio.

Scolare i fagioli e aggiungerli ai pomodori. Portare a lieve bollore e far cuocere per 15 minuti o fino a quando i fagioli non siano cotti secondo il vostro gusto. Togliere la pentola dal fuoco, correggere il sale, se necessario (i pomodori in scatola contengono sale), aggiungere il basilico e mescolare bene.

Ho servito i fagioli in due modi:

1. Mettere una porzione di fagioli in una scodella e distribuire sulla superficioe delle fettine fine di caciotta o formaggio simile. Coprire la scodella e lasciar riposare per qualche minuto, in modo che il calore dei fagioli ammorbidisca il formaggio. Servire con fette di pane casereccio tostate.

2. Servire i fagioli con della polenta morbida condita con caciotta. Anche in questo caso potete usare altro formaggio di vostro gradimento.

Con questo post contribuisco all'evento Tin Can Recipes dedicato alla celebrazione dei 200 anni del cibo in scatola. L'organizzazione dell'evento è di Ale, Fra, Sere e Paola del blog Il Giardino degli Aromi e di Brii che scrive briggishome. Le regole per partecipare le trovate su questa pagina.

Questo post contiene la raccolta dell'evento.

Contribuisco anche all'evento My Legume Love Affair 39, edizione corrente del popolare evento sulle leguminose creato da Susan, The Well-Seasoned Cook, e ospitato questo mese da Cathy di What Would Cathy Eat?

Questo post contiene il riepilogo dell'evento.

¹ La scatola di pomodori nella foto è solo a titolo informativo: non è una pubblicità. Non ho alcun rapporto commerciale con l'azienda produttrice.

piattoni al pomodoro

stewed romano beans with tomatoes

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

Italian flat beans or romano beans are a kind of snap beans that are wide and flat. In this context, piatto is Italian for flat, and the suffix -one indicates a large size, so fagiolo piattone (plural: fagioli piattoni) means flat and large bean. The word fagioli is usually omitted and that's how we arrive at piattoni.

My aunt Lucia used to prepare piattoni with tomatoes, so piattoni always remind me of her. The recipe below is my own, but when I put a forkful of piattoni in my mouth, I am transported back in time to the flavors and smells of my aunt's kitchen (in this village in central Italy).

If you have never had romano beans, I recommend you give them a try. In Italy, I always had the green variety, and the ones I bought at the Temescal farmers' market (Oakland) last Sunday were also green. However, at the Arcata farmers' market yesterday, I bought a mix of green and yellow ones. For the tomato part, I roasted some ripe tomatoes (of a kind locally grown called Trinity) and puréed them.

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for piattoni al pomodoro

Ingredients:

• 1 lb ripe tomatoes (pomodori)
  
• a few sprigs of fresh thyme
• 1 1/5 lb. Italian flat beans, a.k.a., romano beans
• 4 oz. fresh red onion (cipolla rossa), either the round or the torpedo kind, thinly sliced (with a mandoline or other tool — I use the "thin" side of my mandoline)
• 2 oz. shallots (scalogno), thinly sliced (same as for onion)
• olive oil
• 1/2 cup (or as needed) homemade light chicken stock or vegetable broth
• sea salt and freshly milled black pepper, to taste

To make roasted strained tomatoes, cut tomatoes in half crosswise, distribute them, cut side up, on a baking sheet lined with a silicone mat, spray olive oil and sprinkle thyme leaves on them.

Roast the tomatoes for 70 minutes at 350 F. Once cooled, ran the tomatoes through a food mill. Make sure you squeeze out all the pulp, so that only dry skins and seeds are left behind.

Snap off the stem end from each bean, then slice beans into roughly 2-inch pieces. Warm up some olive oil in a deep sauté pan, then add onion and shallot. Stir to coat, and cook for 5 minutes, stirring often. Add roasted strained tomatoes and stir. Cover and cook for 5 minutes, stirring a couple of times. Add beans and 1/4 cup of liquid of choice. Bring to a lively simmer, cover and cook for about 30 minutes. Stir several times and add more liquid as needed to keep the beans moist.

When the beans are cooked (tender, but not mushy), remove from the heat, sprinkle salt and pepper to taste, give a final good stir, then serve.

Much as I like snap beans, I'd choose piattoni over them any time. They require a bit more work to bring them to the table, but they reward you with a satisfying flavor and texture. If you have never tasted this kind of beans, I hope I have piqued your curiosity. And if you want another suggestion on how to prepare them, check Haalo's recipe for braised romano beans.

My camera output was not as satisfying as the dish, so you'll have to trust me when I say that the piattoni in the photo are excellent. Here's my favorite shot of the day: the underside of the food mill (passaverdure), as I am processing the roasted tomatoes.

When you process the tomatoes, the liquid component goes through first and gathers in the bowl. Continue turning the blade and look underneath to see the thick tomato pulp. I scrape it with a spatula and stop milling when no more pulp is produced.

This is my contribution to edition #295 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 me, Simona of briciole.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

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

piattoni al pomodoro

or launch the piattoni al 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.]

beans, tomato

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Per i lettori italiani

Mia zia Lucia cucinava i fagioli piattoni coi pomodori, perciò questo piatto mi fa tornare indietro nel tempo ai sapori e agli odori della sua cucina (in questo paese del Lazio) ormai da diversi anni purtroppo vuota. La ricetta che segue è la mia, ma è ispirata a quella che mia zia faceva per me quando andavo a trovarla.

Negli USA, i fagioli piattoni vengono chiamati Italian flat beans (cioè, fagioli piatti italiani) oppure romano beans. Di recente li ho trovati in due mercati, sia verdi che gialli e mescolando i due colori viene una combinazione carina. Per quanto riguarda i pomodori, adoro cuocerli al forno per concentrarne il sapore.

Ingredienti:

• 450 g pomodori maturi
• alcuni rametti di timo fresco
• 700 g fagioli piattoni
• 115 g cipolla rossa tonda o lunga tagliata fine (con la mandolina tagliaverdure o altro utensile)
• 55 g scalogno tagliato fine (vedi il punto precedente)
• olio d'oliva
• 120 ml (o quanto basta) di brodo di pollo leggero o vegetale fatto in casa
• sale e pepe nero macinato fresco a piacere

Per preparare la passata di pomodoro, tagliare i pomodori a metà e adagiateli colla parte tagliata in alto su una lastra da forno foderata con un tappetino di silicone. Spruzzare un po' di olio d'oliva e le foglioline di timo sulla superficie dei pomodori.

Cuocere i pomodori in forno per 70 minuti. La temperatura in gradi Fahrenheit che uso io, 350, è un po' al di sopra di 175 C e un po' al di sotto di 180 C. Se usate pomodori piccoli, selezionate la temperatura più bassa, altrimenti quella più alta.

Qualche minuto dopo averli tirati fuori dal forno, passare i pomodori col passaverdure. Spremere bene la polpa in modo da scartare solo buccia e semi.

Mondare i piattoni e tagliarli a pezzi lunghi circa 5 cm. Scaldare dell'olio in una pentola bassa, poi aggiungere cipolla e scalogno. Cuocere per 5 minuti mescolando spesso. Aggiungere la passata di poodoro e mescolare. Coprire e cuocere per 5 minuti, mescopando un paio di volte. Aggiungre i piattoni e 60 ml del liquido scelto. Portare a leggero bollore, coprire e cuocere per mezz'ora. Mescolare diverse volte e aggiungere liquido quanto basta per mantenere i piattoni bagnati.

Quando i piattoni sono cotti (teneri, ma non sfatti), togliere dal fuoco, aggiustare sale e pepe a seconda del gusto, mescolare bene e servire.

I fagiolini verdi mi piacciono molto, ma se dovessi scegliere uno dei due come contorno, la mia preferenza va ai piattoni. Richiedono un po più d'impegno per portarli a tavola, ma ripagano col loro sapore.

Le foto che ho fatto non sono molto soddisfacenti, quindi dovete fidarvi della mia parola quando dico che i piattoni erano ottimi. Questa è la mia foto preferita del set: una sbirciata sotto il passaverdure mentre sto passando i pomodori arrosto.

Quando passate i pomodori, la parte liquida filtra rapidamente. Continuate a girare la lama e guardate sotto per vedere la polpa dei pomodori. Io la rimuovo con una spatolina e smetto di girare quando devo che non c'è più polpa.

Questo è il mio contributo all'edizione numero 295 di Weekend Herb Blogging, un evento creato da Kalyn di Kalyn's Kitchen, organizzato ora da Haalo di Cook (almost) Anything at Least Once e la cui versione italiana è organizzata da Brii di briggishome, e ospitata questa settimana da Simona di briciole (che poi sarei io).

Questo post contiene il raccolto dell'evento.

roveja (in bianco e nero)

East meets West (in black and white)

This week when I wanted to contribute a photo originally shot in black and white. Alas! other commitments took over my schedule and I had to leave my camera in its case. The second wish was to choose a photo of a dish, something that was the result of cooking ingredients. A dinner at a Japanese restaurant on Sunday, reminded me of this photo where roveja, a legume from my home region of Umbria, is served in a Japanese bowl and eaten with chopsticks.

This is my submission to week #4 edition of Black and White Wednesday - A Culinary Photography Event, recently launched by Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook.

The photo was shot in color and then converted to black and white.

This post contains the gallery of photos submitted to the event.

tagliatelle al pomodoro con le fave

tagliatelle with tomato sauce and fava beans

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

This is a story that starts with a 28 oz. can of organic ground peeled tomatoes that I had had in my cupboard for a while. After using the can a few times as a weight in the making of this cheese, I decided it was time to use its contents, so I opened it.

I warmed up some olive oil (olio d'oliva) in a pan, added 3 cloves of garlic (spicchi d'aglio), peeled, let them infuse the oil a bit and then added the peeled tomatoes (pomodori pelati) from the can. When they got to bubbling nicely, I turned down the heat and let cook for 10 minutes. I then removed the garlic cloves and used my immersion blender to get a smooth sauce.

I immediately used one cup to make uovo col pomodoro using two eggs. The following day, I made one egg of tagliatelle (recipe here) and dressed them with some of the sauce warmed up and flavored with slivered fresh basil (basilico) from the plant I have in my working room, which has not yet decided whether it likes its location or not, so I am not sure I will be able to harvest from it throughout the summer (growing basil outside is not possible for me, given our cool summer temperatures).

The grated cheese I used for the tagliatelle is my manchego (recipe in Ricki Carroll's Home Cheese Making), which I make with some goat milk and the rest cow milk. I aged this cheese two months before cutting it. This is a favorite pasta dish of mine, with a simple tomato sauce and cheese. The story could end here. However...

I had more sauce to inspire me. At the farmers' market, I bought a pound of fresh fave (fava beans). After shelling the beans, I blanched them for one minute, drained them and plunged them into a bowl of cold water. I drained them again and then proceeded to remove the skin from the beans to bring their bright green core to light.

As I was removing the skin from the fave, I thought that they would be a great addition to the sauce I had recently used for the tagliatelle al pomodoro. The day after, I added the fava beans to the tomato sauce, heated it up, added a few leaves of basil, slivered, and mixed well. I used half to dress an egg of tagliatelle, again using manchego to top the pasta. The cheese usually paired with fava beans is pecorino, a cheese I cannot make at home because I cannot find sheep milk where I live. My mixed-milk manchego went quite well with the fava beans.

Where are the quantities, you will ask? The can of ground peeled tomatoes makes a good quantity of sauce. You may get tomato sauce in other ways, especially as tomato season gets under way. The proportion I suggest is: one cup of tomato sauce and the fave from one pound of pods. You can use it all or only a portion, like I did, or double it, depending on the amount of pasta. And you can certainly use dry pasta instead of homemade tagliatelle.

The photo shows the various ingredients I have talked so far¹. Under the basil, there is garlic from the new crop.

This is my contribution to edition #219 of Presto Pasta Nights. The event was created by Ruth of Once Upon a Feast and is hosted this week by Simona of briciole (that would be me).

This post contains the roundup of the event.

I am also sending this post to Tin Can Recipes, a monthly event that will run until the end of this year. The organizers are Ale, Fra, Sere and Paola of Il Giardino degli Aromi and Brii of Briggis recept och ideer and Briiblog in English. The rules for participating are detailed on this page.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

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

tagliatelle al pomodoro con le fave

or launch the tagliatelle al pomodoro con le fave 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.]

¹ The can of tomatoes in the photo is for information only: it is not an advertisement. I do not have a business relationship with the product's company.

[jump to Comments]

Per i lettori italiani

Questa storia inizia da una scatola da circa 800 g (28 oz.) di pomodori pelati schiacciati bio che avevo da qualche tempo nella mia dispensa. Dopo averla usata un po' di volte come peso nel procedimento seguito per fare questo questo formaggio, ho deciso che era ora di usare il contenuto e l'ho aperta.

Ho scaldato un po' d'olio d'oliva in una pentola, ho aggiunto tre spicchi d'aglio pelati e li ho fatti andare un po', poi ho aggiunto i pomodori pelati. Li ho portati a bollore e poi ho abbassato la fiamma e li ho fatti cuocere per 10 minuti, poi ho tolto l'aglio e ho usato il mixer ad immersione per ottenere un sugo omogeneo.

Ho usato subito 250 ml per fare dell'uovo col pomodoro con due uova. Il giorno dopo ho fatto un uovo di tagliatelle (questo post contiene la ricetta che seguo) e le ho condite con un po' del sugo scaldato e aromatizzato con del basilico fresco dalla piantina che sto tentando di far sopravvivere nel mio studio (il basilico qui da me non posso piantarlo fuori, date le temperature fresche estive).

Il formaggio grattugiato che ho usato per le tagliatelle è il mio manchego (ricetta dal libro Home Cheese Making di Ricki Carroll), che io faccio con del latte di capra e il resto latte di mucca, invecchiato due mesi. Questo modo di preparare la pasta è uno dei miei preferiti: un sugo di pomodoro semplice e formaggio. La storia potrebbe finire qui, ma...

Avevo ancora altro sugo ad ispirarmi. Al mercato ho comprato 450 g (una libbra) si fave fresche. Dopo averle sgusciare le ho buttate nell'acqua bollente per un minuto, poi le ho scolate e messe in una ciotola di acqua fredda. Dopo averle scolate di nuovo le ho pelate.

Mentre ero intenta a pulire le fave, mi è venuto in mente di aggiungerle al sugo che avevo usato per le tagliatelle al pomodoro. Il giorno dopo ho aggiunto le fave al sugo, l'ho scaldato, ho aggiunto alcune foglie di basilico spezzettate e ho mescolato bene. Ne ho usato metà per condire un uovo di tagliatelle, usando di nuovo il mio manchego come formaggio. Con le fave ci sta bene il pecorino, che io non posso fare perché dove abito non trovo il latte di pecora. Comunque, trovo che il mio manchego di latte misto vada bene con le fave.

E le quantità, direte voi? Con la scatola di pomodori pelati ho fatto una discreta quantità di sugo. Voi potete ottenere la salsa di pomodoro in altri modi, specialmente ora che la stagione dei pomodori sta per iniziare. Le proporzioni che suggerisco sono 250 ml di salsa e le fave ottenure da mezzo chilo di baccelli. Potete usare tutta la dose o una parte, o raddoppiarla, a seconda di quanta pasta avete da condire e potete usare pasta secca invece di quella fresca all'uovo.

La foto mostra alcuni degli ingredienti¹. Sotto il basilico, potete vedere dell'aglio del nuovo raccolto.

Con questo post contribuisco all'edizione numero 219 di Presto Pasta Nights, evento creato da Ruth di Once Upon a Feast e ospitato questa settimana da Simona di briciole (che poi sarei io).

Questo post contiene il riepilogo dell'evento.

Contribuisco anche all'evento Tin Can Recipes dedicato alla celebrazione dei 200 anni del cibo in scatola. L'organizzazione dell'evento è di Ale, Fra, Sere e Paola del blog Il Giardino degli Aromi e di Brii che scrive Briggis recept och ideer e Briiblog in English. Le regole per partecipare le trovate su questa pagina.

Questo post contiene la raccolta dell'evento.

¹ La scatola di pomodori nella foto è solo a titolo informativo: non è una pubblicità. Non ho alcun rapporto commerciale con l'azienda produttrice.