The heatwave in London has finally passed and it is bearable to use the stove again. I’ve been saving this minestrone recipe for a grey day, when tucking into a steaming bowl isn’t a tortuous exercise but rather a comfort. My prayers were clearly heard because when I saw the little icons for glorious summer showers and lightening in the weather forecast, I knew it was time.
For this issue, I wanted to explore Italian cuisine. It will come as no surprise that I love all food containing the word ‘pan’ and Italy has the best share. Think panzanella, panettone, pancetta and pannacotta. Where to even begin? The food of Italy is so diverse and varies vastly region to region. Therefore, before I delve any deeper, I’ll admit that this issue doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of Italian cuisine and I can only hope that it provides a little food for thought.
It also deviates from the usual format as I did not take a recipe and plug it through Google Translate (shock horror). I pray it is still an interesting read nevertheless and in accordance with previous issues, let’s first hear from someone who actually knows what they’re talking about when it comes to regional Italian cuisine…
I met Alessia in Beijing when we were both studying Mandarin at Peking University. She was the one that inspired all the lockdown fresh pasta endeavours; the self-imposed 7 days of pasta challenge would not have occurred but for her words of encouragement and guidance.
She hails from a town called Castellammare di Stabia in Naples. Through her words, you can get a taste of Neapolitan cuisine. She aptly titled it “Uè aro’ vaj ch’ mo arrivn e’ past”. Neapolitan dialect for “Where’d you think you’re going? We still have the desserts”.
The full English translation she provided is below.
IT: Ma dove vai che adesso ci sono i dolci!
Sarei scontata e ripetitiva se mi limitassi a raccontarvi cosa c’è di buono nella cucina regionale italiana, chi non conosce la pizza margherita o il ragù alla bolognese?
Come napoletana trovo invece più difficile raccontarvi cosa davvero mi manca quando sono lontana da casa, potremmo forse chiamarlo quel “rituale del cibo” diffuso tra le famiglie napoletane.
Per noi napoletani “mangiare” non significa solo nutrirsi, dietro la preparazione del cibo c’è una storia che molti conoscono e ricordano da quando sono bambini… la nonna che dal sabato sera inizia a preparare il ragù della domenica … la zia che la settimana di pasqua inforna 25 pastiere di grano in un forno minuscolo… la mamma che ti consola con un bel piatto di pasta fumante con il sugo… e potrei andare avanti all’infinito.
Per noi napoletani le feste e le domeniche in famiglia sono scandite da interminabili pranzi, dagli antipasti con salumi e mozzarella, alle due portate di pasta al forno, e se provi ad andare via dopo la carne grigliata c’è sempre qualcuno che ti richiama dicendo “Uè ma aro’ vaj che’ mo arrivn e’ past!”, fermati che adesso arrivano i dolci! (Si avete capito bene: dolci al pluarale).
Per noi napoletani la pizza non è solo un impasto con il pomodoro e la mozzarella, è un vero e proprio collante sociale, può unire popoli e guai a nominare la pizza con l’ananas.
Per noi napoletani la cucina è fatta di segreti e ricette che si passano da generazione in generazione, di interminabili discussioni fatte su se è più buona la parmigiana di melanzane con l’impanatura o senza, su la lasagna di carnevale con o senza uova sode…
O almeno questo è per me la cucina napoletana: famiglia, carboidrati e tanto amore!!
I would be predictable and repetitive if I just told you about all the tasty things we have in each one of the Italian regional cuisine, everybody knows what a pizza Margherita or bolegnese sauce is.
As a Neapolitan it would be more difficult to explain to you what I really miss when I’m far from home, I’d probably call what we have in our Neapolitan families as a “ritual of eating”.
Neapolitans think that “eating” is not all about feeding yourselves, but there is something more behind the natural act of cooking food, it is more like a tale that many of us remember since we were kids…our granny who on a random Saturday evening would already start preparing the ragù for the day after…our aunt who would pass all Easter week baking tons of pastiera in a tiny oven…our mum comforting us with a hot dish of tomato sauce pasta….
Neapolitans think that when we spend the Sunday together it should be all about eating, beginning with starters made with charcuterie and mozzarella, passing to a huge portion of stuffed baked pasta, and when you try to sneak out after the grilled meat, there is always someone stopping you by saying: “Uè ma aro’ vaj che’ mo arrivn e’ past!” Where’d you think you’re going? We still have the desserts! (Yeah, not just one dessert).
Neapolitans think that pizza is something more than just oven-cooked dough with some sauce and mozzarella on it, it’s like social bonding, it can definitely unite a nation, but be careful to remember not to ask for pineapple topping.
Neapolitans think that cooking is made of many secretes and recipes passed down through generations, and sometimes we could even go on for hours arguing about on how to make proper parmigiana di melanzane or lasagna di Carnevale…
To be honest I cannot say what all Neapolitans think about food, I can only express what regional Neapolitan cuisine is to me: family, carbs and of course love!!
Photographic evidence provided by Alessia:
Now that has piqued your appetite, I will introduce a fella called Pellegrino Artusi. It’s interesting that Alessia mentioned how pizza can unite a nation. Artusi’s 19th century cookbook Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well played a role in defining “Italian cuisine” as he included recipes from all across the country. This is significant as Italy had only recently been unified when the cookbook was first published in 1891.
I’m ashamed to say I hadn’t heard of him until Emiko Davies helpfully suggested that I look into his whopper of a book with nearly 800 recipes. It is considered a bible of Italian cooking and takes the place on many Italian households’ bookshelves. Emiko has lovingly explored many Artusi recipes on her blog, which is a decade old this year (she credits the cookbook as one of the reasons she started food writing).
There are many reasons why Artusi is so beloved but here are a few of mine. He has a strong appreciation of garlic, dedicates a whole chapter to eggs and does not shy away from discussing bowel movement or flatulence, especially when it comes to onions. He also self-published the book at the grand age of 71.
His conversational tone inspires confidence and reassures the reader simultaneously. For example, with regards to zuppa di ovoli, he declares:
During mushroom season, you can serve this soup even at an elegant dinner and it will not embarrass you.
Let’s be real, we’re all looking for a solid soup recipe that doesn’t embarrass us in front of mates. He’s got us covered.
He is also often vague in stating quantities, pan sizes, cooking times and temperatures. In doing so, he teaches the reader to think for themselves and promotes a healthy dose of common sense rather than following overly precise instructions which often takes the fun out of cooking altogether.
When scouring through his recipes, it was hard to pick just one. However, Emiko recommended the minestrone and as I am a sucker for a good anecdote, it had to be it. In a nutshell, Artusi experienced a “frightening disturbance” in his body one night and thought the minestrone he ate in the trattoria was the culprit. Turned out, it was just cholera. Classic…
Looking beyond that golden anecdote, the dish itself also happens to be very adaptable. He tells the reader “to modify it to suit the tastes of your part of the world, and the vegetables locally available”. For my variation, I followed Emiko’s recipe and used frozen beef stock leftover from when I made borsch. I also added half a parmesan rind to simmer away for added richness. It was incredibly hearty and every last drop was mopped up with a hunk of sourdough bread.
To end this issue, I will leave you with a Roman expression I first came across when I read Rachel Roddy’s blog, I think it’s particularly fitting.
Sgargarozzare:
A Roman expression which means to “To consume or throw back with joy, and with no intention of stopping.” Mostly used in relation to wine and food, Sgargarozzare is a word to live by.
Further…
Reading:
The language of food - Emiko Davies
The perfect ode to Italian food and language. (The article I wish I wrote)
Useful Italian food websites: giallozafferano, cucchiaio d'argento
Listening:
Anna Del Conte’s Desert Island Disc with Kirsty Young
The cookery writer arrived in Britain in 1949 where her Italian ingenuity with food was sorely needed in a nation still facing rationing and no olive oil. Her books, starting with Portrait of Pasta in 1976, helped to change all that, and established her as a food hero for younger cooks like Nigella Lawson and Delia Smith.
Following:
Emiko Davies - based in Tuscany
Saghar Setareh (a.k.a. Lab Noon) – based in Rome
Skye McAlpine – based in Venice
Melissa King - winner of Top Chef, her fusion food combining Chinese and Italian blew my mind
Vanessa Miles (a.k.a The hungry chook)
Giulia Scarpaleggia – has a podcast about Tuscany
Next week, schedules allowing, I will video call my friend Sophie who is based in Berlin and we will make maultaschen together. This could be a shit show. Stay tuned.