For the longest time, I refused to visit Venice. Once I learned that there is only one Venetian for every hundred tourists, I had no desire to be apart of that statistic. Tourists are a necessary good in the world, but in cities like Venice and Florence, we become exhausting to the locals. Can you imagine living in a city that is a disneyland with people blocking your commute with their wanderlost stuck in a map or drooling with their heads cocked up at some random monument? Blocking the paths while posing for their obsession with documenting every single detail (um, has anyone ever tried to guess how many millions of other people have that same token shot off the Rialto bridge?) GOSH! C’mon!
I decided to break my boycott.
What I took away: Spritz and cichèti! YUMMM!!!! I discovered the glorious world of cichèti! Cichèti is Venetian finger food (like tapas!). It’s the revolution of the tavola calda, the mecca of the happy hour, the game changer of the aperitivo and paradise for seafood lovers and the hell for anyone with shellfish allergies. I feel so sorry for those people.
Drink: Spritz is a Venetian cocktail comprised of a bitter liqueur (campari, aperol, cynar, etc) prosecco and soda water.
Cost? In Florence, a spritz can be like 6€ (screw that!!!) in Venice, if you get out of the crap tourist traps, you’ll pay no more than 3€ and they are the best in Venice. My favorite was the Cynar variety (a bitter amaro liqueur made from artichoke, so good for your liver?).
A cynar spritz is served with one of those delicious fatty green olives and a slice of lemon. Perfect for potato chips and general sipping. Or, for many Venetians, perfect for that 11am pick-me-up. 😉
What I found most odd was the Venetian style of gazzosa, which is usually a soft drink like a lemon soda, etc. But what I drank in Venice included a light local red wine with sprite. EWWW you might think (as did I) but on a warm day on the lagoon, it’s not so bad.
Basically, cicheterie have a drool worthy spread of various first courses and fishy dishes like stuffed octopus, calamari salad, baccalà and polenta, baccalà mantecato (a puree of cod), baked mussels, scallops, pine nut and raisin laced sardines…the list is making me hungry just re-hashing it.
Do you have any favorite nibbles and sips from Venice? Share! 🙂
Until next time,
Want some restaurant and general travel advice for visiting Venice? Perhaps tips for a culinary tour in Venice? Contact me.
Do you know how to pick out fish from the market? Do you even buy fish?
I was recently sitting around the dinner table with friends and we were discussing fish and how asian cultures fight over who gets to eat the fish eyes and camp out at their local fish monger to get 1st dibs on the fish heads. And we also discussed about how ones Sicilian grandma used to know a good fish by how its liver felt or how its eyes were glazed. And how now his mom (his grandmothers daughter) can just barely pick out the freshest whole fish, having lost that knowledge from her mother on how to judge a fish by its gallbladder.
Being American, I was fascinated by this discussion. Most of us go to the shop to buy filets. Or frozen breaded packaged stuff. If we even eat the stuff at all. As much as I love food and want to deepen my relationship with it by gardening and cooking from scratch, fish intimidates me. As I suspect for most people. The only fish I know how to prepare well is salmon, and that’s because it is from my culture being from the Pacific Northwest where salmon defines our culinary identity.
My mom taught me how to buy salmon whole. How to cook it, skin it and de-bone it. This is a small beginning to American gastronomic heritage. This is what I fear we are loosing, all over the world. Gastronomic heritage.
I don’t know how to shop for good fish, and there should not be a manual. This post is not a series of top ten tips or even the 7 things you must know about fresh fish. What I think people need to do is to talk to people. Talk to your grandma or grandpa. Meet your fish monger. Find the nearest fishing terminal/port. Get to know your favorite restaurant staff. Hell, even talk to the barman at your local fisherman’s pub. These things in gastronomic heritage are things we must pass down by story telling. We must pass down through our relationships, not with some sterile blog who the author behind it you will never meet. Make a fish bake date with your grandparents or someone elses. Even if you don’t like fish, it’s probably a good idea to hang out for dinner with your Nan.
Also, I think it is important to understand how much fish are at risk. Fish are at pathetic populations, swimming in polluted seas. You must also understand how farmed fish is not the answer, at least industrial chemically farmed fish. I sometimes can’t believe how people put things in their mouths without understanding the whole story behind it, or at least part of it.
These are a few great resources about fish and fishermen.
Last time I was in London, I ragged pretty hard on the food culture in this post. How can you blame me- I live in Italy ferchrissake. However, I returned in May to be greeted with a brand new view. I realized, the food culture in London is better in certain ways than in Italy. GASP!!!! HOW DARE I??? The English??? Better food culture??
Wait, wait just hear me out! I have a few reasons. Some of the most celebrated chefs have come out of the UK. Nigella, Jamie Oliver, Gordon Ramsay, just to name a few big wigs in the food world. 2nd reason: The youth is leading and taking charge of the artisan, slow food movement in the UK. In Italy, everyone talks about the cute mom and pop bakeries that start rolling out dough at midnight in order to have fresh breakfast pastries and bread by dawn. But key word: mom and pop. Pay attention the next time you are in Italy in these wine shops, veggie stands, bakeries, banco mobili (food carts) selling lampredotto or porchetta. They are sadly mostly in a similar (older) age bracket. Due to the idea that there is little opportunity left for the Italian youth, a large percentage (of the youth) are fleeing this country at an alarming rate and not following behind their parents slow food from scratch ways. Instead, the food supply is increasingly becoming monopolized by questionable entities, and in come regions affected by polluted water ways from illegal dumping and improper municipal waste management (by more questionable entities) which eventually seep into the food system. Afterall, water is the principle ingredient in the feed for crops and livestock. You have polluted water, you have polluted soil. If given a choice, I would much rather purchase mozzarella di bufala produced in Devon (UK) than from Campania (Southern Italy).
This time in London, I was refreshed by the amount of youth working at these artisan food markets. Even delighted that I found various young Italians as slow food purveyors, too. Struck by this reality, I returned to Florence only to notice I was one of the few young people on the morning commuter bus. But also discovered how fortunate I am to have a job in Italy and even more determined to not give up on Italy and the necessity to the positives or else if I do, with everyone else, many things that the world loves about Italy will be flushed downstream, just like toxins polluting the precious mozzarella.
That being said, here is a slideshow of what I found during my last trip. Enjoy:)
A lot of people I know who like Italian food love pasta. It is the cornerstone of Italian cuisine, it is what makes Italian cuisine, at least modern-day Italian. I go through phases of shunning carbs and gluten but during the winter months like January and February- I can’t seem to help myself.
Recently I have had to attend some culinary dinner events which included pasta making top chef-like challenges. So after one weekend of an event I borrow a pasta maker because I’m really curious if I can do it on my own after observing it at these events. All I gotta do is look up a recipe, give me a machine and I’ll figure it out, right?
So I call a pal to see if she is game for an afternoon of pasta making. She trumps my request by adding that we make our fresh pasta with a ragù of cinghiale (aka wild boar ragù). The game is on.
The night before I was excited. I told some Italian friends about my plans for the next day, they seemed impressed and respond by saying basically how weird is it that a couple of Americans are making something that Italians themselves are forgetting about. Italy is being colonized by the Big Mac meanwhile American foodies teach themselves how to make the traditional dishes their grandparents used to make. Incredible.
After some trials and tribulations of finding wild boar meat in the city of Florence, my trusty sidekick succeeds in finding some from a local butcher and marinates it overnight with garlic, rosemary and wine.
We spend about 3 hours simmering a wild boar ragù– which is basically a red meat sauce starting with a battuto of carrot, celery, onion, peeled tomatoes, red wine and ground marinated cinghiale.
While the sauce is simmering we mak’ala pasta!
Start with 1 cup of all purpose flour and a cup of whole grain flour (believe me the consistency and texture is real nice- plus the fiber will make you feel less guilty for eating pasta! score!) mix it in a bowl with a pinch of sea salt. Pour it on a dry surface and stick your fingers in the middle to form a volcano
Then when you get a deep valley in your lump of flour, crack 4 eggs into it, careful to not let the lava spill quite yet.
Then you put a few drops of olive oil in your egg lava nest and try to whisk the mix without letting it spill of the sides. But if it does, don’t worry. I did and the pasta came out just fine. Once the lava is all mixed, start incorporating flour in little by little with a fork.
Then just say screw it with the dainty fork and just get your hands all up in it and capture all your flour and knead like crazy- pasta dough is very kneady process and needs a lot of kneading care. get it…get it??!!! It’s a PUN!!!! No? Just me? Okay moving on….
Once your dough has got all it has kneaded..(okay, I promise to stop…) Tada! Let it rest, it’s taken quite the beating. For about a half an hour. In the meantime, feel free to eat chocolate, drink coffee and sip on wine. Yep, that’s Italy!
After the rest and by now I hope you’re buzzing and cracked out on caffeine…it’s the perfect time to do something time consuming and somewhat tedious- and that’s rolling out the pasta dough and cutting it! Good thing we were making a slow cooked ragù…maybe that’s why it was discovered! Maybe someone left some meat sauce on the stove while making fresh pasta and it turned into a delicious melt-in-your mouth wonder!
Be sure to keep your surface nice and floured as you are slicing your dough and flattening it out a bit.
When using a pasta machine and making sheets of pasta from the dough, start with the lowest setting and work your way up to your desired thickness/thinness. Once you make flat sheets of pasta, you put it through the cutting attachment as seen here in exhibit: z.
After you cut your pasta, you lay them on a flat plate-object like a plastic sheet or cutting board make sure they don’t stick together by adding a bit of flour, untangling the strands like hair.
And you must have a fun face on while you are doing it. Otherwise, you’re doing it wrong. In fact, in life you must always have a fun face on.
Your slow cooked ragù is almost ready. So boil up a large pot of water, add all your hard earned pasta in and cook for no more than 3 minutes. A spectator in the peanut gallery of this adventure said “how funny that something that takes so long to prepare takes so little to cook.” Deep thoughts about pasta, yes this is Italy.
When your pasta is cooked and drained, pile some on a few plates and dollop a nice ladle of your slow simmered wild boar cinghiale ragù on top. Grate some aged pecorino on top and you got yourself a plate of pasta that will knock Dante Alighieri’s socks off.
Don’t forget to stop and smell. Watch. Drool. Devour.
Don’t forget to pair with some red wine. Chianti Classico, Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, Brunello di Montalcino…heck just make sure you have some goddamn red wine, preferably from Tuscany. Oh and make sure it’s daytime. Drinking during the day is totally okay. Only in Italy can you drink all day and be called a wine expert. Back home we call that a lush or an alcoholic! What a relief to live with real culture!
I think I will use this post as blackmail to get my friends and family back home to come visit. You want this? Then come visit me. Mwahahahaha! I mean, hundreds of dollars on a plane ticket is sooooo worth a lunch like this…and with me- hello! Sheesh. NO BRAINER! See you soon! 😛
On a recent trip to the grocery store, I discovered a new sauce that has inspired a couple of new dinner ideas. I have been trying to cook more at home these days, and there is a cookbook on the traditional cucina fiorentina (Florentine cuisine) that is haunting me on the kitchen table with several bookmarks mocking me to venture and make traditional goodies like salsa tartufata (truffle sauce for pasta or meats), fegatino (chicken liver and heart pate) and ribollita ( 2X cooked peasant bread, tomato, veg and bean soup). But I am too intimidated. Every time I go to the butcher at my local farmer’s market to brave buying pure chicken hearts and liver, I get scatty as soon as I see the blood covered butcher howling “Prego” at me. I run away and just get my typical dainty fruit and veg and perhaps some cold cuts.
So I end up instead at the grocery store, reducing myself to the pre-made pasta sauces accepting my reluctance to make a salsa tartufata. I see a jar that looks interesting, it’s called Pesto alla Siciliana. It had a nice little picture of ricotta and tomatoes on it and I thought hmmmm this looks adventurous! Until I read the ingredients: Instead of olive oil, there is sunflower seed oil. Instead of pine nuts, there are cashews (anacardi).And to my great disappointment, there is glucose syrup AND sugar! I put my foot down (and the jar back on the shelf) and said: “this avoidance to cook is not to be tolerated any more!” I will make this myself!
So from the label, I gathered more or less what this recipe was asking for. Fresh tomatoes, tomato concentrate, garlic, ricotta, pine nuts, grated aged pecorino (sheep’s milk cheese), herbs and a touch of olive oil.
I looked up a recipe for Pesto alla Siciliana just to be sure and I got chopping and grinding away. I used a hand blender to put it all together and voilà! A thick creamy umami nutty goopy pink sauce that will make any pasta more cozy.
Fry up some sausage on the side and mix in with this red pesto. Boil up some pasta (ideally penne, rigatoni or tortiglioni tubular pastas for the sauce to coat and the sausage to stick to), mix in the red pesto BY adding the pasta to the pan with pesto sauce and sausage and jump/toss the pasta to mix all together.
I top this pasta with chopped parsley that comes in with my odori (herb) bunch from my veg guy Leo, who has a strange resemblance to the comic book guy on The Simpsons.
You can also cooked in chopped sage with the sausage, again from odori bunch from Leo. It came out extremely delicious to say the least. The sauce and bits of sage coated sausage coated and filled the big chewy hollow pasta tubes.
If I were drinking this month, I would have paired it with a glass of Negroamaro from Puglia, which is basically Italian for Zinfandel. It tends to be pretty basic yet full and slightly fruity while being high in alcohol. This pasta doesn’t need some complex aged wine with tons of structure. I wonder if a layered white like a Sauvignon from La Maremma (southern Tuscany) would have fared well. We will never know…unless you try.
This sauce is very simple to make and I highly recommend you make it to add some variety to your pasta routine. I think this would make an excellent lasagna base as well. Oh want a recipe? Here ya go!
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