The Definitive Pasta Directory

A flow chart for all you pasta lovers out there...What's your favorite?? 
Posted from www.charmingitaly.com 

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What kind of pasta is on your plate? by Charming Italy

Italian Food: Worth licking your plate over

Over the holidays, when they bring onto the front burner those desultory articles of seemingly low import, some major bombshells were dropped about Italians and their eating habits.  As a 'sloppy seconds' American, these came on like tsunamis in my world view.

We know that Italians conquered the food world, right about the same time that poor man's polenta became so chic, it was priced at about $5 per sliver.  Baloney, or Bologna's melt-in-your-mouth mortadella was something you only dreamed of finding on your plate at Happy Hours.  Then, they did it again when they won over the American FDA in the 80s, and were allowed to ship over their prosciutto by the ton.  Competing ferociously for the American dollar, Italian wines -- and my favorite, prosecco, still carry the day, if not the entire evening as well.

In the 90s, we were treated to the Slow Food Movement.  Italy's singular response by a great visionary to the encroachment of McDonald's on its shores.  And in 2010, Eataly took New York by a storm.  So, what could they ever do for an encore?  Ancora! (More!) that's what.

Incredibly, Italians, by their own admission, have reignited yet another passion (for all us food lovers with peasant hearts):  La Scarpetta.  My favorite way to eat food.  I'm not even sure of the etymology here, but, it translates to...ripping off that sumptious corner of delectable bread, and scraping your plate with it until you've soaked up the very last drop.  Let's just say that in finer households, this is say, frowned upon.  But it would seem of late...that people are getting caught - shall we say, red wine-handed??  Food has never tasted more delizioso.

                               You can take the kid out of America... but can't take the American outta the kid, especially if brownie batter is involved

But then, no sooner had you scraped that last bit of walnut cream sauce off your plate than it happened. First one table, then another, at your favorite ristorante.  Not just ugly Americans were actually - ohdiomio - asking to bring home their leftovers.  People in the know say Italians leave behind upwards of 30% of their meal -- and now, and especially with the prices at record levels, and perhaps the lack of time to prepare good food like mamma used to make, a taboo has been wrapped up just like your Penne all'arrabbiata to be reheated next day.  Incredibly, these morsels of goodness go even in 'doggy-bags', in English.  Could eating with your fingers be far behind?

I had a boyfriend break up with me after I ordered a pizza to go - in a pizza box (it was half the pie, hardly just one slice).
Do you think there's anything wrong with bringing home the bacon?

Happy International Pesto Day!

According to today's papers, January 17th marks Int'l Pesto Day.  That's the day in which we all can have garlic breath...I've said it once, and will say it again, Pesto even on old shoes will taste good.  And, although this treat has its origins in northern Liguria, it's pretty much standard fare on tables around the world.

http://www.wickedfood.co.za/blog/basil-pesto-recipe.html

This picture and accompanying recipe comes from all the way in New Zealand - Wicked Food Cooking school and TV.  And while I'm sure it's absolutely amazing, alas, they suggest Parmigiano and not the traditional, Pecorino as in the original.

In fact, while 70 cities in Italy are hosting chefs in 'make-offs' (versus bake-offs) today, another article caught my eye:

According to the food czars in Italy, 9 out of 10 pestos do not respect the original and real ingredients of pesto, as Dio commanded and Mamma intended.

That's true.  I've found pretty much everything in my store-bought pestos, including nuts (not pine nuts, and if you're allergic...) and all kinds of flavorings.  So read labels, or...better yet, make your own.  And, if you're really in for a fabulous treat, try a red pesto as well...

And, here's a helpful hint from my very own mamma -- take that pesto and scoop it into ice cube trays and freeze as single-serving portions for later.  That way, every time you get a pesto rush, you won't have to grind up the basil right there & then.  It's as good as fresh.  Of course, that would imply you don't then unfreeze the entire tray for your own single serving of linguini...as some of us - ahem! - may do...

Post links to your favorite pesto dishes below...

Italian Cooking - Don't say 'Cheese'

There are so many amazing food blogs about Italian food in particular out there, that I tend to avoid the topic.  But every so often, an occasion introduces itself and I feel compelled to address one of my favorite topics: food and eating.

An American friend called while I was immersed in the preparation of one of my absolutely favorite dishes – stuffed zucchini flowers.   

A dish so heavenly that you never forget the first time…I was hot and hungry in Milan, and came across a deep dark ristorante.  I entered, and found true love. I still also recall the price tag of that experience, but let’s just say, the ride with this great dish was truly worth the fall.

So he asked, “What are you stuffing them with?” 

-- “My favorite – fresh mozzarella and anchovies.” 

“Hang on a minute – you emphatically told me that Italians never – never ever – combine cheese & fish.” 

And, as my thoughts stretched back to the innumerable plates of shrimp dishes, clam sauteés, and untold ‘frutta di mare’ all peppered with grated cheese – the wait staff too aghast to even look at the rape…I ventured forth:  

“Well, I think it’s this dish and like one other one that it’s okay to combine the cheese with the fish. But no others.”

He was unconvinced.  And as we debated the anchovies-on-pizza tradition, I know for sure this is one dish that the two flavours combined make for the most mouthwatering marvel.

I still can’t think of the other one, but I know it’s out there.  But, as far as ‘La Cucina Italiana’ is concerned, it’s one rule followed by everyone – everyone – north to south.  A rule so carved in stone, that you’d think it was the predecessor of the muslim/pork law: 

Just because it’s pasta, never grate that parmigiano on that dish with fish.  A gastronomical no-no to the nth degree. 

And one I think might have some health and taste value.

Now back to deep-frying my zucchini flowers. Buonissimi.

Food Fight

Just when we thought it was safe to enjoy ethnic cuisine…It wasn’t so long ago that you couldn’t find a thai eggroll or a piece of anago anywhere in the boot.  The Italians with their fine gastronomic sense, liked it so much, they even ate Italian whenever they were abroad – complaining between courses that it just wasn’t ‘buono’ like home. 
And so it comes as no surprise that in this age of intolerance for things ethnic (think: economic immigrants), that the battle would rage right in one’s pasta plate.  Not long ago, the fascists decided to purify the Italian language, using propaganda and posters in order to convince the population to follow suit (much like they do in France and Quebèc today).  Today, the poster child for this new intolerance is a McDonald’s burger no less.  But, hang on -- that’s American! 

Yes, but the burger pictured – just in case you didn’t read the writing – has the map of Italy seared right onto it.  Telling us that the meat at mickey d’s is red white and green (which, after that fine meat is added to all the mixings – well, there might be some truth in advertising after all).

Next thing you know, falafel and kebab (think: gyro) shops are being banned from city centers.  With all the flack about how they are ‘un-Italian’, people forgot that those juicy Italian burgers have been banned from many a centro storico for a long time.  Mostly, for the bright fluorescent lights, ubiquitous advertising but, even more so, the odours. Although I’m all for it, frankly, I think it’s more for the fact that they take away business from the panini shops nearby.

What Italians have forgotten altogether is that back in the day, Italy was a very diverse country with people flocking here from all ends of the empire.  You would probably have seen a falafel guy cooking right next to the burger dude – kind of like a New York City street corner.  Spices, meats, heck, even people were traded all over the empire.  And, where did those traders stop when they got a bit peckish?  At one of the many ‘take away’ stands lining the streets. 

So maybe someone needs to spin this story the right way.  It was Ancient Rome who brought us ethnic food and take away service.  And in a country that loves its traditions, what can be more traditional than that?

The Roman Calendar: Through its desserts

Now that it’s a new year, and everyone is hanging up every version of their calendars, I came to the realization that I really didn’t need one.  Living in Italy, you can practically set your clock to the food cycle. And I don’t mean just the in-season fruits and vegetables:  I’m thinking desserts.

It’s January and nary a Panettone can be found far and wide.  All windows and grocery aisles are filled with the wonderful sights of Castagnole (donut holes, by any other name still smell as sweet) and Chiacchiere or Frappe (in Rome) baked or fried, in preparation for February’s carneval festivities.

By March, we’re treated to the Easter dove of peace, in the form of a sort of panettone without the raisins—if it weren’t for the great care in making these Colomba, you’d have thought they just took the leftover Pandoros and kind of squished them down just so.  They’re so delicious, though, they bring you right into April licking your lips from that chocolate frosted or cream filled treat you bought for dinner, but eat for breakfast instead. 

The Colomba cake has a curious history:  they showed up in medieval times just after the Barbarians tried to take Pavia.  I don’t know what this means.  Did the locals resist by living off of yeast-type bread?  Did they make and throw large versions at their would-be conquerors?  Did they offer them up as a sign of peace? No matter, the rest, as they say, is history.

Starting in May/June, you have to start hoarding all of the Mars Bars and little Lindt chocolates like a squirrel readying for winter.  When that sun starts to melt sidewalks, well, no retailer will be carrying black gold.

Summertime of course means only one thing:  gelato to your heart’s content.  You have come to see it as both a life-saving remedy for its cooling down factor, as well as something dietetic; It surely must have fewer calories than Ben & Jerry’s chocolate chip cookie dough or Haagen-Dazs’ dulce de leche.  Every day I cop a gelato cup, I thank my lucky stars they haven’t started posting calorie counters like in New York City Starbucks.

Come September, you can meet your favorite chocolate again in its every manifestation.  You buy double just in case there’s ever another run on chocolate again; you consider making a makeshift chocolate-filled bomb shelter pantry. You just never know when the shelves will go barren again.

In November we find the first Marrons Glacé, which, they’ve now decided to wrap in cute little one-mouthful mini-packs.  Again, you believe that if you only eat a few mini-packs a day, it surely cannot be like eating a king-sized Butterfinger!  After all, aren’t chestnuts fruit?

Which brings us into December, when Panettone and Pandoro have free reign.  Not good enough to simply eat as is (with the powdered sugar ritual poured over top), Americans have come up with “Italian” French Toast (wouldn’t eat be easier to just rename it ‘Italian Toast’?  Like French fries, I doubt either group truly eats their eponymous treats).   

So slice the pieces, dip in egg batter, and fry up those cakes before dousing them with maple syrup – making sure not to forget the powdered sugar over top - it's tradition.  Other serving suggestions are, swimming in chocolate fondue, or smothered in zabajione sauce. I swear it’s the Italian equivalent of Krispy Kremes.  And nothing gets better than that.

So, now that you have your calendar, you might as well start considering the New Years’ resolutions -- Now how is it that Italians stay so fit and trim?

* recipes posted on many of the hyperlinks

Making Oranges out of Orangeaid

I remember back in the day when I taught nursery school, and each year, we’d ask the kids, ‘Where does orange juice come from?’ And we were invariably met with, ‘A Can. The Freezer,’ or some other variant [ask ‘em where money comes from…and you’ll always get, ‘A Machine.’]. We’d then proceed to make fresh squeezed o.j. with them. In Italy, where bottled fruit juices are the next best thing to drinking the actual fruit with a pour spout inserted, you know exactly where your juice comes from. Nothing comes closer to ambrosia than this.

So, it is not without some controversy that Italy’s government decided that orange or lemon drinks (aranciata) no longer has to include the actual fruit juice. As a staunch capitalist, I think this is wise. But, as someone who loves the pure juices without having them tainted with sugar, corn syrup and all of the other insidious ingredients which creep into American beverages, well, it’s a travesty. And the outcry has been huge.

One of my favorite columns, Lapis in fibula, from Epolis, penned by a satirist who calls himself Chicco Gallus weighed in on the subject. Here’s his take:

It’s just like an Aranciata – with Oranges

It is about to be permitted to sell orange flavored beverages without oranges, or rosé wines by simply mixing red and white wines together. It’s one of those curious laws that reenter into laws that everyone was happily living without.
I’ve never come across someone who was left horrified after having drunk an aranciata, only to be overcome with the horrible suspicion that inside, there might have been a trace of fresh squeezed something or other.
Foods proudly produced in order to avoid affecting those suffering from food allergies usually write, in bold letters, NO SALT!, Contains no glutens!, or Without fill in the blank. And obviously, they make you pay more for them.
Here we have instead the exact opposite taking affect:
It's up to the consumer to discover whether or not that which they just gulped is in some way related to what they perhaps originally wanted in the first place.
With the wine debacle, the issue is even more subversive; because, to make a rosé wine, you need an elaborate and costly system; cultivating the red grapes in a particular way. Mixing red and white wines together simply takes a split second.
In reality, however, this new way of making rosé even works in our favor: After all, up 'til now, to make a nice rosy wine out of your reds, all we needed to do was add a little tap water.
So now, we have to look forward to new permits of creative manufacturing, like, orange wine with no oranges, or fake aranciata rosé wine (all it takes is removing the fake yellow out of the fake arancione).
Heck – it could even turn into a new profession: not producing inventive beverages but, getting someone to drink them.

The Michelin Guide to Italy

Italy is seeing stars -- Michelin stars that is. The infamous guide to the best restaurants just came out, and, just like the prices they're now charging for a plate of pasta, Italy's rankings have gone up. But, according to Leonardo Romanelli, food critic, this doesn't mean that the French have turned up the gas, so to speak, on the Cucina Italiana.

In fact, according to Romanelli (in Epolis), the renowned chef Gualtiero Marchesi, the first in Italy to receive the coveted triple star rating, after stating he should no longer be critiqued given his contribution to the world of food, had the book literally thrown at him along with the kitchen sink; they listed his place as a lowly hotel eatery.

And even though any Italian worth his sale grosso will tell you that the French, with all their creamy sauces and over-stuffed geese do not deserve all those stars, Italy is now proud to boast 236 1-star ristoranti (versus 217 from the year before), and 34 with two (up from 29).

As for the triple star restaurants, there are five (versus 30 in - ahem - gastronomically superior (?) France):

Enoteca Pinchiorri (Florence) - I've eaten there - and can tell you the meal will run about 1 euro per person per minute you are seated, and that's without the wine tab. I'll let you decide whether the memory of your menu degustazione is worth one month's rent.

Dal Pescatore a Canneto sull'Oglio (Mantova) - I'm pretty sure I've eaten here, too, but, I don't remember.
Il Sorriso di Soriso (Novara) - heck, I'd go just for the name!
Le Calandre a Rubano (Padova)
La Pergola at the Hotel Cavaliere Hilton (Roma) - which is, in fact, a hotel restaurant if you like that atmosphere.

It's a Dog Eat Dog World

While it may be that in Japan, 7% of dog owners eat dog food, that number in Italy rises to a steep 100% of Italians. In fact, the figure includes all Italians, even those who don’t own dogs.

That’s because, in Italy, dogs eat pasta. Not exactly DeCecco or Barilla, but, walk into any supermarket, and you will find enormous bags of cute twirled pasta -- for dogs. In the Japanese survey, 50% bought dog food based on tastes a dog likes. Let’s be clear: did Fido actually tell them what he truly likes? Because, if it were up to him, the flavors on offer would not be beef, chicken or turkey with vegetables. If our dogs could choose, it’d be more like squirrel, pigeon and fox varieties (that’s especially for Setters in the UK).

But what kills me is that in the end, each population chooses what they, themselves eat. I had an aunt who made her little dachshund a breakfast of eggs, toast and sausage every single morning. Needless to say, he died of hardening of the arteries. But, aside from those who give their dogs human food, the Italians will have you convinced that it's okay for dogs to eat pasta...But ask any Vet stateside, and they'll tell you pasta expands in the stomach and the carbs aren’t good for them. I'm sure the ones promoting this feature are the same ones backing the 'no swimming after eating' rule, too.

Back in Japan, dog food contains that seaweed you find wrapped around your sushi. I’ve tried feeding sushi to Trevor, who takes one whiff of that and literally runs and hides. Perhaps he’d be more turned on by the new Japanese fad for using excess whale meat in the food. Certainly he’d fare better than the dogs in the U.S. or China who are getting poisoned by the melamine in their food.

And so it is, each night, you not only have to prepare pasta for the family, but for your furry friends as well. Perhaps with the cost of basic pasta going up so much, even regular Italians may start to turn to those huge bags of pasta-for-dogs in aisle 9.

Centro Isterico

I just came back from a quick jaunt to Puglia. Having traveled the entire swathe of the boot these 20-odd years, I can honestly affirm (and at the risk of causing great controversy amongst my readers), that Puglia boasts the best cuisine in all of Italy.

Certainly, it’s a hard choice: I am the proud owner of a Piedmontese cookbook, I can’t wait for forays into Florence, I love those sweet red onions of Tropea, Ligurian pesto, and truffles on even old shoes will taste terrific. My favorite foods on earth come from Sicily.
But, if the way to a person’s heart is through the stomach, Puglia wins my affection hands down.
This could also be due to the ‘comfort food’ factor of Pugliese cooking. Although my relatives did not hail from this part of the country, their food always tastes like ‘granma used to make’. The baked ziti, the fava beans, the ham in the ragù, the unbelievable bread.

But, I think the food tasted better too, due to the fact that you were finally settling in to be treated with unlimited hospitality and a fantastic bottle of Primitivo, in order to calm, no, numb those nerves from the drive in and around the City Center (the Centro Storico) trying to find the darn ristorante.

There were one way routing systems that went up only (we had to go downhill). Most streets, even major thoroughfares, were without names, cars darted into traffic, blatantly ignoring the stop signs, 420 cars vied for 12 spots. My British friend and rattled driver (whom, I might add, was also driving on the wrong side – at least from his point of view -- adding to our collective angst), kept muttering that he felt like he was in India. I tried pointing out that there were far fewer people and no bony cows roaming down the middle of the streets, but, couldn’t get that out, as at that moment he’d be swerving to miss our 19th stray dog walking down the middle of the street.

Our GPS navigator whom my nephews had christened Lizzy, threw an absolute tizzy-and just gave out. It was the modern day equivalent of “If you don’t slow down/stop and ask directions/find the right turn I’m getting out and walking!!”
My father always quipped that 'Hunger was the Best Sauce'. After a trip to Puglia, I think it’s Road Rage that makes for excellent three course meals, wine included.