Italian Country Cooking by Loukie Werle

Title: Italian Country Cooking: The Secrets of Cucina Povera
Author: Loukie Werle
Photographer: Alan Benson
Publisher: Fall River Press (owned by Barnes & Noble, which would explain why I found this lovely book in a remainder stack for $12.98)
Copyright: 2007

Although I spend quite a bit of time reading and daydreaming about France and Paris when it comes to food (especially cheese), wine, fashion, art, history and scenery, when I read a book like this, I can't help thinking that perhaps I should daydream about using Italy as a home base for visiting France rather than the other way around.  Not that I haven't also long been a fan of Italian food, wine, fashion, history, art and scenery, but the daydreams usually have me somewhere in Paris and/or rural France.

The first section of Italian Country Cooking is devoted to pasta, which is probably my second favorite food after cheese, so I was hooked right from the start, and I want to make just about every recipe in the chapter.  Meanwhile, the gorgeous photographs make me want to shop for vintage rimmed soup bowls in which to serve these fabulous dishes.

The recipes in the second section focus on rice and grains.  Another win, given that I love risotto, with the bonus of a few farro recipes I want to try out with the farro I purchased before I really had any idea of what I would do with it.  Polenta falls into that category too, and now I have ideas for that as well, namely Lasagna di Polenta (polenta lasagna with three cheeses).  The Bomba di Riso (rice cake with provolone and sausage) is also on the "to try" list, once I figure out which pan I can use.

Moving on to beans and legumes, the Pasta e Ceci (chickpea and pasta soup) is a beautifully written example of how to really build a soup, layering in the flavors for a hearty result, and while I am very proud of my "improv" lentil soup, the Minestra di Riso e Lenticchie (lentil and rice soup)looks as if it could be equally good.  (Incidentally, I have discovered that the secret to really good lentil soup is to cook it longer than you think you should.)

Salads and vegetables are up next, and I dare you to resist the Asparagus Gratinati (asparagus and provolone gratin).  You will probably learn a thing or two about leafy greens.  I know I did.

La Vignarola (Roman springtime stew) has a detailed description for preparing artichokes which almost has me convinced that I can do it, but they still scare me a little, especially since the author does not offer suggestions of what to do with the outer leaves and so called "hairy choke."  I am wondering if I could maybe cheat and just buy artichoke hearts, except that I really want to try to cook something starting with a whole, raw artichoke.  If the artichokes do get the best of me, I could always console myself with Torta di Patate (potato pie with smoke mozzarells and salami).

Having cleansed the palate with salad and veggies, it's on to eggs and cheese.  Frittata al Forno (frittata with scamorza) offers incentive to (learn to) use the broiler, even in the midst of summer when tomatoes are at their peak.  Or perhaps try the recipe for a baked omelette which sounds more like a crepe.

Moving from the land to the sea, recipes for fish and other seafood, especially mussels and clams, are up next.  There is a swordfish recipe which promises to be "very lemony, herby and garlicky," and all I could think was "Sign me up!"

As an aside, the author does show a strong penchant for rosemary, which I don't care for, but I think a substitution could be made without undermining the recipes.  The same is true for chiles.  In fact, I think that almost all of the recipes could be adapted with ease to individual preferences and tastes, not to mention to what is actually available to hand.

Other meats follow in the next two chapters -- chicken, beef, veal, lamb, including several recipes for offal, and even a couple of recipes for rabbit and one for oxtails.  The final two chapters round out the meal, er, book with bread and pizza and desserts.

There are recipes simple and complex, vegetarian and meat loving.  Anyone with a love of hearty, classic Italian food should find recipes in this book to make, enjoy and share.

Small rant

Part of me is still hasn't recovered from the abrupt realization that the FDA is owned/run by massive pharmaceutical companies, and when I drove by a large, almost billboard-sized sign in a local farmyard (on my way to pick up some yummy, organic, locally grown produce) telling me that the country was going the wrong way and that I should do something about it come November 6th or God help us all, I risked driving off the road as I blinked in disbelief.  It was another "Seriously?!?!?!?" sort of moment.

I guess it is a sort of backwards way of saying God helps those who help themselves, but somehow I doubted that was the message intended by the sign.  Perhaps I should drive back and ask.

Here was a local farmer growing food and selling it to local consumers, which is a grand and glorious thing.  And yet this farmer thinks that a politician, any politician is going to improve his lot in life?  Really?

When did the amnesia epidemic break out?  Was it when elections weren't really won but rather decided in the courts after much wrangling and hemming and hawing and noise and bluster?  Every four years, and often it only takes two years, there is all of this screaming about how those who are in office are terrible and horrible and never did anything worthwhile and we should throw the bastards out.  And then if the bastards do get thrown out, they seem to only be replaced by new bastards.

Federal and possibly even state level government has ceased to be effective in any kind of widespread way.  What is good for or works in Maine is not necessarily good for Nebraska or Arizona or Hawaii.  It just can't be.

Olive Tapenade

Making my own olive tapenade has been on my list for a while, and had I known just how easy it is to make, I wouldn't have waited so long.

I'm not sure where I got the idea that olive tapenade was complicated.  Probably the price.  Little jars have price tags much higher than a regular can of olives, so I figured that there had to be special secret ingredients.

Today I picked up a store brand jar of olive tapenade, and when I was finished shuddering at the sodium content (46% for the green olive tapenade and 38% for the black per serving), I read the ingredients list, which turned out to be olives, olive oil, garlic, mushrooms, spices and salt. Since I already had everything else, I bought two six-ounce cans of pitted olives, one black and one green.

When I got home, I did a little research to find out what the "spices" might entail and looked at a few different recipes -- some called for sun dried tomatoes and others for capers and anchovies.

It turns out that this is one of those fabulous recipes where you pull out the food processor, throw in the ingredients, pulse to desired consistency and voila!  Yumminess.

I decided on:
6 ounces each of black and green olives, pitted and drained
4 or 5 small portabella mushrooms
1 small jar of oven dried organic sunburst tomatoes (somewhere between 1/4 and 1/2 cup) and their associated 3 roasted garlic cloves, seasonings and coating of olive oil (which I had made about a week ago but had not yet figured out how to use)
1 anchovy filet packed in olive oil
1 tsp (total guess) Pasta Sprinkle

Once everything was pretty well blended, I added a little bit more olive oil, maybe a tablespoon.  There is enough moisture and oil to be had in the ingredients that you really don't need much.  If you prefer the spread to be a little more chunky and crumbly (think tabbouli salad), you could omit it all together.

I didn't feel a need to add any salt beyond what was in the ingredients, although a little flake salt sprinkled over the top after spreading the tapenade on bread or cheese (or both) would not be untoward.  Also, for those who like pepper, by all means grind in as much as your taste buds desire.

I considered adding my favorite magic cheese, but decided I could sprinkle a bit on later if the mood struck me.

Spread on freshly baked Italian bread, and yum!  No, let's make that YUM!!!  Also very tasty on Brie, with or without the bread.  Or stuffed into a small mushroom.

The difference between homemade and store bought is on an order of magnitude similar to that of making your own marinara sauce with organic tomatoes rather than opening a jar.

And did I mention how simple it is?  Open a couple of cans or jars, and the food processor does the rest.

If you like olives, you will be hooked in a heartbeat and thinking about the possible variations -- Kalamata, Spanish, California, etc., alone or in combination, with or without sun-dried tomatoes, capers, anchovies.  Play with the seasonings to see which olives like which herbs.  Maybe even add a chile for kick, if you are in to that sort of thing.

Now I need to go learn about olives.

Cooking with Cookbooks

http://www.thedailybeast.com/articles/2012/10/19/food-friday-why-do-we-buy-cookbooks.html

For some reason this article irritated me.  For several reasons, actually.  I thought about ranting against each point, but instead I have decided to wish the author inexpensive gadgets, extra long battery life and a stable high speed internet connection so that she never need consult another paper cookbook again.

Me, I love cookbooks.  I love the Better Homes & Gardens Cookbook I inherited from my grandmother.  I love the old, battered, much used paperback edition of The Joy of Cooking which sits on the shelf next to a shiny, less stained hardcover copy of the 75th edition of the same book.  I love my well used copy of The Enchanted Broccoli Forest.  I love the newer acquisitions such as How to Eat Supper and Hot, Sour, Salty, Sweet.

I used to buy cookbooks because I thought I needed recipes in order to cook, and quite a few of them were pretty much collections of recipes without a lot of pictures or context and narrative.  I have since learned that I do not so much need the recipes themselves as I do the skills which they teach.  One of my long-term hopes and goals is that this self-directed culinary education will help me figure out how to prepare and update the recipes in the family recipe boxes.

If I want to try a new recipe, find out what to do with an unfamiliar ingredient or learn a new skill, however, I look in a cookbook.

I love reading cookbooks written by restaurant chefs -- even if the recipes aren't exactly designed for home cooking -- because they include their philosophy and process.  While the results of some of their experimentation don't appeal to me, they are still educational.  They tell me that I probably wouldn't like things it would never occur to me to put together, but they also encourage my own mind to think "off menu."  Sometimes way off menu.

Nor do I read only cookbooks when it comes to learning about food and its preparation.  I read memoirs and books of food writing and even food-centric novels.

Cookbooks can be delightfully specialized, and I am not talking about the latest diet or nutrition craze.  (One of the many joys of living without television reception or cable is that I tend not to hear about such things.)  You can get books such a Bones, Meat, Fat , Roots and Salted.  If you want to be more inclusive, there is the Nose to Tail approach.  There are new (or maybe not so new -- again, no tv) and different genres -- whole foods, raw foods, sushi, miso, tofu.

If cookbooks are on their way out, why are book deals part of the up and coming chef's road to celebrity?  People want to connect with or associate themselves with these celebrities, and what better way to show your connection than a shelf full of books by Giada or Emeril?  By purchasing all of the other merchandise they endorse, of course -- pots, pans, knives, bakeware, and even foodstuffs.

(I will confess to owning several books by Giada and two Martha Stewart enameled cast iron pots, but I actually use the books and the cookware regularly.  Giada has some great recipes which I make often, and those Martha Stewart pots get the job done without the Le Creuset price tag.  In fact, last weekend, I made a modified version of Giada's basic marinara sauce in the larger of the two Martha pots.)

At the other end of the spectrum, there are cookbooks that aren't really cookbooks, such as Heston's Fantastical Feasts and Notes from a Kitchen.  Just today, Too Many Chiefs and Only One Indian caught my eye.  The last two are gorgeous works of art, not only for the food which they feature but also graphic design, typography and photography.  (One of my favorite things about them is that they cannot be had from amazon.com or Barnes & Noble.)  A little less extreme but still impressively visually appealing is What Katie Ate, written by a commercial photographer with a passion for food.  She wrote the recipes, cooked the food, and styled and shot all of the photography in the book.

With all of the options offered by computers and other technology these days --digital photography, graphic design, vibrant soy-based inks, non-traditional paper fibers, typefaces, and even page size -- the possibilities for creative publications are more numerous than ever.  Why would you want to stare at a digital screen, when you can get a more complete sensory experience by holding one of these fabulous books in your hands and making a new discovery every time you turn a page?  After all, aren't the best meals the ones which engage all five senses?  So why not start the experience with the recipe source?

It's not that I do not look for recipes online, but I have gotten away from the ubiquitous cooks.com and allrecipes.com and epicurious.com.  They are too noisy.  Too many choices.  Too many recipes and reviews by people I don't know.  Instead I read cooking blogs and follow links found in the Twitter feeds of cooks and food writers.  The only time I use recipe focused sites anymore is when I am trying to find a recipe I saw in a magazine and can't remember which issue.  (If anyone has a way of collecting and organizing recipes from magazines so that they can be easily found and used again in the future, I would love to hear about it.)

These cookbooks and blogs inspire me to not only work on my own cooking but also my writing and photography.  The more I read and the more things I try, the more things I want to learn and the more convinced I become that I can actually cook and write and photograph and have fun doing it.

Finally, there is my most recent discovery: cookbook stores.  Apparently there are loads of them if you just look.  Not only are they independent booksellers, but they are specialized independent booksellers.  (Take that, RAMJAC!!)

Maybe the cookbook publishing business isn't growing by leaps and bounds.  Maybe it is even shrinking, but constant growth isn't a sustainable course.  Maybe, as should be with food, there is a trend toward quality and time well spent rather than quantity and speed disguised as efficiency.

Whatever the case, I will keep reading (and buying) cookbooks.

Pizza Post

Saturday night -- sometimes Friday night -- is usually pizza night, and the local delivery options definitely vary in quality.  Over the summer, I happened to stop by a local bakery on a day that they had fresh pizza dough, which led to this:

I rolled out the dough, spread some homemade sauce over it, and basically cleaned out the refrigerator.  Yum!

Since then, delivery has just paled in comparison, but I have not been quite organized enough to make my own dough, and the local bakery where I found it for my initial experiment can't always sell it, so they don't always make it.  Trader Joe's had some, but the ingredient list was too long.  Then, about a week ago, I found organic pizza dough at a local grocery store for about a dollar, so I brought home a couple of pounds and stuck them in the freezer. One pound makes a decent-sized pizza, as long as you like thin crust, and it turns out that it only takes a couple of hours to defrost (another concern I had about buying pizza dough to have on hand).

I thawed out some sauce cubes and sliced up veggies (again, cleaning out the fridge).

I oiled my largest rimmed cookie sheet with a small amount of canola oil.  Yes, you can use cooking spray, but you don't need much oil to cover an entire pan -- I would guess less than a teaspoon -- and you get the benefit of knowing what you are using, as opposed to whatever additives and propellants are in the spray.  If you are really worried, check out one of those pump sprayers that you can fill with the oil of your choice.  In this case, I used canola oil because it has a higher smoke point than the much beloved olive oil, and pizza does well cooked at high temperatures.

Then I rolled out the dough with a little flour, put it in the pan and spread the sauce.

After the sauce comes cheese -- I like a mixture of finely shredded mozzarella and mild cheddar cheese -- and then veggies -- thinly sliced summer squash, red onion, baby portabella mushrooms, yellow sweet pepper and kalamata olives -- followed by a little more cheese -- in this case my favorite "magic cheese" blend of parmesan, romano and asiago.

After about 20 minutes in a 435-degree oven (yes, 435), voila!  

Crispy, thin crust pizza with very little edge.  Again, I say, yum!

Yes, delivery is quicker (maybe) and requires less effort, but making it myself is not only far less expensive but also more satisfying on a number of levels, including taste and nutritional value.

Non-toxic non-stick?

While I love my fabulous stainless steel pots and pans, as well as the much used cast iron skillet which is older than I am, every once in a while I just don't want to worry about my food sticking to the pan, so despite my aversion to continued Teflon ingestion, I hide a small non-stick frying pan in the drawer under my stove.

Today I encountered Hydrolon.

I am suspicious that it may be one of those things which is too good to be true, but I am going to experiment anyway with this pan.

Further bulletins as events warrant.

Field Trip

It started with a photograph with the tagline "essential summer reading."

The two books on the bottom of the pile did not immediately surface in search results lists on various bookselling sites, perhaps because they have a web site of their very own.

The site has a description and videos and a blog.  It also has a list of retail establishments -- all of them independently owned and many of them devoted exclusively to food -- where they can be purchased.

Rabelais - Fine Books on Food and Wine in Maine is a place I have heard of and have wanted to visit for a while, but then I saw Stir Boston and decided to check that out instead.

I don't think that Julia Child would even fit in that kitchen, and I wish that I had more time to explore the surrounding area, because it is in an interesting area of Boston.  I am already planning a return trip when I have a bit more time.

The book selection is small, but impressively diverse if a bit more on the gourmet or high end or ... advanced end of the shelf.  No television celebrities that I could see.  There was even a copy of Modernist Cuisine on the shelf, which I think might make an appropriate subjective bookend to Notes from a Kitchen, because it is as technical and scientific and structured as Notes is freeform, organic and alchemical -- two ends of the spectrum or two sides of the same coin.  In between I found The Art of Fermentation by Sandor Ellix Katz and Blue Eggs and Yellow Tomatoes by Jeanne Kelley and Spice: Flavors of the Mediterranean by Ana Sortun and Heston's Fantastical Feasts by Heston Blumenthal, as well as Blumenthal's cookbooks and all of the River Cottage books.

The best part is that not only do places like Stir and the other establishments on the list exist, but they are thriving.  At least, I hope they are thriving.  Based on the call I heard the employee take while I was paging through cookbooks, Stir certainly is.  Cooking classes and private events are booked well in advance, and the business is preparing to celebrate its fifth anniversary next month.

Equally encouraging is the success of grassroots creative endeavors.  I'm sure that they have always been around, and I am sure that there are still quite a few that never see fruition, much less success, but there are projects such as Notes from a Kitchen which have found a niche and a market without being sold through major outlets.

It is certainly inspiring, potentially motivating ... contagious, even (in a good way).

Food meet wine, live happily ever after

Since I have been experimenting with and learning about wine, I have heard about the wonder that is food and wine pairing.  I have even experienced a bit of it myself -- a tannic red wine mellowed by a creamy blue cheese, for example.

Last night I attended a wine dinner and experienced the true wondrous possibilities of combining complementary wine and food.  The food was delicious.  The wine was excellent.  The two together transported everyone gathered around the table to an entirely new dimension.

Four "small plate" dishes, each paired with a complimentary generous sample of wine.

First course: Truffle Lobster Purse paired with Louis Latour Pouilly Fuisse 2010, Burgundy, France
From the menu: "Claw and knuckle mean with a portabella cream sauce baked in spring roll wrappers and topped with white truffle oil."

This is the only dish I photographed because once
the eating began, I forgot all about photography.

I am often not one for cream sauce, but mushrooms in cream sauce is a classic, the ration of mushrooms to cream was generous, and the way that these little "purses" were assembled, the lobster ended up nestled in a bed of the sauce, neither overwhelming the other.  The spring roll wrappers brightened the dish with a bit of crunch, while offsetting the richness at the same time.

The wine was a Burgundian chardonnay.  Generally, I am not a big fan of chardonnay, although I have been introduced to a few that I have been willing to bring home with me.  I'm pretty sure that this was the best I have tasted so far -- smooth, almost creamy, mellow, lightening up the rich food.  The French just know how to make wine.  That's all there is to it.  Even more so than the Italians (but that may be because I tend to prefer lighter wines and have become rather fond of bubbles).

As soon as I tasted it, I couldn't help wondering what effect the simple, gorgeous, spacious, delicate feeling, probably actual crystal wine glasses had on the taste.  The wine glasses in my house are fairly basic and functional (although I did make a point of buying flutes from which to drink sparkling wine), and as wine glasses go, not very large, or at least the bowl of the glass is not very tall.  They certainly get the job done, but now that I have had wine in the "right" glass, I can appreciate how the appropriate vessel opens up a wine and allows it to reveal greater complexity and depth of character.  (That being said, my cupboard space is limited, so I am going to stick with my current drink ware for now.)

Second Course: Wild Mushroom and Confit Duck Crepe paired with Byron Pinot Noir 2010, Santa Barbara, California
From the menu: Tender confit duck leg blended with porcini and shiitake mushrooms, cram and demi-glaze rolled in fresh herb crepes.  Topped with creme fraiche and a blackberry port reduction."

This was my first experience with duck -- rich, but not as fatty as I expected.  The tang of the blackberry complemented the richness of the meat, and the crepe added a touch of sweetness, all of which were enhanced by the pinot noir.  Since I tend to like sour cream or cheese on just about anything and everything, the creme fraiche was a lovely touch.  Meanwhile, the slight tannic qualities of the wine complemented and were complemented by the mushrooms.  I think that the cream almost made the wine taste creamy.  Or maybe subtly velvet.  (I don't speak wine, yet.  I only speak yum.)

Third Course: Korean Short Rib paired with Brazin Old Vine Zinfandel 2009, Lodi, California
From the menu: "Marinated and slow braised, served with scallion jasmine rice and braising liquids."

This was the piece de resistance, with the strongest aromas promising delectable things to come.  The meat fell right off the bone and readily disintegrated into shreds of meaty goodness.  The scallion jasmine rice was more of a garnish, adding subtle hints of flavor in the background.  The braising liquids were savory, until you sipped the wine and the peppery chile flavors popped out.  I don't care for sharp spice, but in this case it was a pleasantly surprising new experience.  This combination offered the most layers and variations, distinct but woven into a cohesive whole -- a culinary example of the whole being so much more than the sum of the parts.

Dessert:  Doughnut Bread Pudding with Espresso Ice Cream paired with Campbells Rutherglen Tokay NV, Australia (no vintage year given)

After the savory, spicy richness of the rib, something mellower and sweet was a welcome change and a delightful finish.  The doughiness of the pudding enhanced the raisin, honey and vanilla flavors of the wine, which was not so sweet as to be cloying.

The group was a fairly big crowd of a about twenty-five at one long table, but multiple conversations carried on with ease as people bonded over a shared love of food and wine and branched out into subjects of family and occupations and travel and hobbies.  Given that this event was such a success, the organizer has plans to make it a monthly offering, and I can't wait to do it again.

Tuna Benedict?

As I sat down to eat my tuna salad on tomato slices, I couldn't help thinking that while tasty, they might be missing something.  Perhaps a salad or a side of steamed vegetables.  Then I thought -- eggs!  An egg would be just the thing.  Initially I thought a few slices of warm, hard boiled egg, but then I thought "tuna melt meets eggs Benedict": toasted English muffin (or stick with the tomato slices), plus tuna salad, plus egg, plus hollandaise sauce and/or Swiss cheese or perhaps pesto, assembled and toasted or broiled until heated through and browned on top.

I'm salivating with curiosity.  Anyone else?  Yes?  No?

Tuna Salad on Tomato Slices
1 Medium to large tomato, sliced crosswise
(Mine was a little smaller than a softball, and I got four probably 1/4-inch slices after cutting off the top.)
1 5-ounce can Wild Planet Skipjack light tuna, *undrained*
1 Rib celery, finely chopped
Mustard to taste
(I used whole grain dijon, probably between 1/2 and 1 tsp.)
Mayo or Miracle Whip to taste
(I used about 2 tsp of Miracle Whip light.)
Small handful magic cheese
Sunny Paris seasoning

Arrange tomato slices on a plate and sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper or to taste.

Mix the tuna, celery, mustard, and Miracle Whip in a bowl until well blended.

Sprinkle in the cheese and a few shakes of Sunny Paris seasoning and mix again.

Taste for seasoning and adjust if needed.

Pile the tuna on the tomato slices until the bowl is empty.

Enjoy!

Food riff: Sprouts, baby spinach leaves, small leaves of lettuce, fresh basil or other fresh herbs of preference could easily be layered over the tomatoes before piling on the tuna.  A thin slice of Swiss or cheddar or Harvarti or mozzarella could be used in addition to or instead of the greenery.  Alternately, the cheese could go over the top and the lot could be toasted or set under the broiler for a few minutes and then perhaps even topped with a touch of marinara or salsa.  As with the salmon salad of a recent post, garlic and/or onions could add a bit of zing and relish a bit of crunch.  Maybe even mix the tuna with pesto rather than mustard and mayo.

Layered Omelette

Usually when I make an omelette, I beat the eggs, mix in whatever other ingredients I want to include and pour the whole mixture into a hot pan.

Today I decided to try layering instead.

I chopped up several slices of prosciutto and heated them in a pan.  Once they started to crisp, I poured two beaten eggs over them.  I let eggs and prosciutto cook for a moment and then sprinkled shredded cheese over the eggs.  I cooked the mixture with minimal disturbance until almost set before loosening carefully and flipping bravely.  (I must have had the courage of my convictions because everything stayed in the pan.)

After switching off the heat under the pan, I steamed some chopped zucchini separately and scattered it over the omelette once I had slid it onto a plate -- the plate which covered the bowl of zucchini while it was steaming, so it was nice and hot.

I'm not entirely sure that it was *better* than the way I usually prepare omelettes, but I could tell the difference, tasting layers of flavor rather than simply a blend of flavors.

As a side note, hot food really should be served on warm plates.  I remember my father putting plates into the oven to warm a few minutes before dinner was ready.  I remember warnings about hot plates from waiters in restaurants.  I never gave it a whole lot of thought or really made any kind of connection.  Only when I read The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry in which there is an instance when the author fails a test because she did not warm the plate did I put it together.  (Keeping a few glasses in the freezer for cold beverages is an excellent idea, too.)