Italian Cooking School

Today on my morning run I noticed a subtle change in the seasons. The streets of late August that had been teeming with beachgoers in bathing suits are now replaced by fully clothed individuals.

The tawny bodies basking in the sun while their children built sand castles are replaced by people back to working and life. Meals that were a light summer fare of linguini with clams and served with a sparkling wine are replaced by the hearty dishes of fall. Thoughts of pumpkins, deep rich stews, apple pie and cinnamon spiked desserts start to fill our minds.

This morning, even though it was sunny and beautiful, had a crispness in the air that encouraged a light jacket and jeans. This Autumn look has replaced the light gauzy look of summer. In place of the peaches and tomatoes featured in the heaps of produce at the fruit stand, I am starting to see pumpkins (zucca) and squash. Heaps of walnuts (noce) and wild mushrooms (porcini) are starting to grace us with their presence along with pears and apples.

I stop my run at a veggie stand in the main square and eye a pumpkin that looks perfect for my needs. I am still timid about buying fresh produce from the stands because it requires that I leave my comfort zone of the glossy grocery store that advertises the cost per kilogram right above the vegetable in question. At the grocery store I pick up the veggie using a disposable plastic glove (proper ettiquette requires it, otherwise it is rude to touch the vegitables!) I then place the vegetable in a plastic bag, weigh it on the scale, select the number of the bin and a label emerges that I attach to the produce bag. This way they know what to charge you at the check out stand.

Of course we figured this out the hard way on our first trip to the grocery store. We had a couple of apples in a produce bag and the male clerk (who gets to sit down on the job by the way) holds the bag up and looks at us incredulously with a look of irritation, “Why no lable? I can’t scan an apple!” Was what he seemed to be saying, we got the point but we will never really know what he said. A line was forming behind us, whom we felt all must think we are idiots, so we just made a motion that we don’t want the Apple after all and pay for the other items. As we walk away Jeff says “oh man, I really wanted those apples…” Oh well, lesson learned.

Now that I have mastered the ways of the grocery store and the proper handling of produce and printing of labels and converting kilogram to pound and converting Euro to the Dollar value, it is time I move on to the little markets because I really prefer to eat farm fresh and locally. So at the little fruit stand this morning, I point to the pumpkin and ask “Quante e?” I think that is correct for “How much is it?” The woman understands, puts it on the scale and says “Una novanta” Of course I don’t know what that means so I motion with my finger “one?…” she motions back “one ninety” Ok, sounds good to me, almost two Euro for my pumpkin.

I decide to make pumpkin raviolis out of it and I had heard that there was a store in the main square that sold fresh pasta that you can take home and cook. They roll it out right there on the spot and cut it the way you want it. Its too tempting a thing to pass up, so I ask a woman at the veggie stand, “fresca pasta, dove?” That was my attempt at “fresh pasta, where?” She tries to point it out but realizes it is too difficult to describe and motions that she will take me there. She is an attractive woman in her 60’s and is dressed very nice with a black dress and little heals. We walk together through the square and wind down several streets until we end up a back street, but sure enough, I see a shop this is still closed (its not even 9 am yet) but the name is Pasta all’Uova (Egg Pasta) . I am going to try to remember how to get back here, but for now, I must continue on my run, so I say “Arrivedercci” to the friendly woman who showed me the way and try to continue running but now I am carrying a pumpkin. Soon I approach another street that has potted plants for sale and I select a sage plant for 1 Euro that appeals to my “fall” cooking mood, I will add this to my burgeoning herb garden on my balcony. Now I really cannot run, holding a pumpkin and a potted sage plant in its cheery orange pot. So I am content to walk with my new treasures and dream about what I will make with them.

Even though I pride myself on my cooking, I am apprehensive about trying to cook Italian food in Italy, especially for Italians because everything has a specific method according to region that you dare not improvise on. I have contented myself with making my old standbys at home like Broccoli Beef over rice or Shrimp tacos or even Burgers. In fact, last night we made burgers, they were so delicious using the fresh warm bread from the bakery around the corner! Jeff has been more active in the kitchen as our roles reverse. He has cooked up chicken, rosemary potatoes and delicate fresh green beans. We have enjoyed the lovely cured meats and olives that have livened up our Americana cuisine. But my grace period is over and its time to learn to cook the Italian way while I have all of these scrumptious ingredients surrounding me. So armed with the new Italian cooking app that a friend encouraged me to download and my fresh fall ingredients, I am ready to start!

Well, that it until I realize that the cooking app is in Italian, I try to download an English version but there are only half as many recipes. I realize if I am going to learn to cook “real” Italian food I am going to have to learn to read a recipe in Italian. So armed with my translation app, my cooking app and a window open on how to convert metrics to American measurements, I am ready to go!

Wow, this is really going to be hard.

I selected a a recipe for pasta con la zucca (pumpkin pasta) and tortelli di zucca (pumpkin raviolis). I carefully read the recipe and then using Google translater I translated it into English, then using my Google search engine converted the milliliter measurements into cups. I purchased my ingredients, some were easygoing find, some were difficult. I got fresh ricotta from the cheese store on the corner and fresh pasta from the fresh pasta shop. The two brothers running the pasta shop, Massimo and Marco, must have thought I was a little crazy as I gleefully snapped photos as they removed the fresh pasta from off the machine, rolled it out and ran it though the fettuccine slicer attachment. I told them between giggles that we don’t have a shop like this in California. I felt like a kid in a candy shop.

I searched carefully for the Mostarda di frutta, a type of preserved fruit that has Essence of mustard in it, it is a specialty of Northern Italy. Then I got to work cooking up my zucca (pumpkin) and sautéing the onions and garlic, snipped my herbs and prepared my pastas.

I wish I could tell you that it was a glowing success but it wasn’t. One of the dishes, the fettuccine di zucca was edible. It had pancetta (similar to bacon), rosemary and zucca, sautéed together and then blended. I served it over the fresh fettuccine. It should have been good but looked like baby food poured over pasta. It really just ruined the fresh fettuccine that would have been awesome by itself. But that dish was good compared to the ravioli which should have been fabulous. I had the fresh pasta, fresh ricotta, mostarda from North Italy, fresh zucca….but unfortunately the recipe called for Amaretti (almond flavored cookies) So the raviolis tasted like amaretti instead of ravioli. I made a butter sage sauce and sprinkled it with fresh Parmigiano Reggiano. If only I would have made the raviolis with just pumpkin and ricotta I’m sure it would have been fabulous.

However there were many lessons learned from this experience, one is you must buy fresh pasta right before you want to use it, not the day before because it will dry out and be very difficult to work with. Two, fresh ricotta goes bad in two days so use it right away. Three, trust your own gut instinct. For instance, if I am a good cook at home what makes me think I suddenly can’t cook in Italy and I must learn all over again? If you don’t put ameretti cookies in raviolis at home why would it suddenly taste good here? Fourth, make what you have already had, are the restaurants serving wierd ameretti raviolis? No.

So I needed to get my cooking confidence back. I decided to invite some friends over and revert back to my tried and true. I invited three couples over for tortilla soup, chili rellenos and refried beans. The guests sat on the balcony while Jeff ladled the rich broth of carmelized onions, tomatoes and chicken into their bowls. He showed them how to assemble the soup with tortilla chips, green onions, avacado, cheddar cheese and a squeeze of fresh lime. They happily slurped up the TexMex soup while I fried up the chili rellenos.

We served up the plates of roasted green chilis stuffed with mozzarella, dipped in whipped egg white and fried up like a fluffy soufflé. A side of refried beans and a generous ladle of smokey spicy red chili sauce completed the plate. A table of happy guests delighted with my meal helped me get my courage for cooking back.

Next I invited a few other couples over for beef bourguignon served over mashed potatoes. The very essence of fall cooking, beef simmered with wine, mushrooms, onions and carrots. I set Jeff loose on making the mashed potatoes because he always does so with abandon that I can’t seem to muster when it comes to the addition of butter and cream. It’s best to just turn a blind eye and enjoy the results.

One of my guests brought fresh mozzarella from his home town to make the perfect compliment to our antipasta course. Boy am I learning a lot about mozzarella here. For one thing, I have NEVER seen our regular mozzarella here. It is always served and sold fresh in water, never outside of the water. Even when purchased it is put in a bag with the water and sent home with you. When a host goes to serve it, they pour the whole bag and water into a bowl for serving. It has not been missing from the first course anywhere I have eaten. One ball, probably about four ounces is considered a serving size. You put the whole ball on your plate and eat it with bread and fresh tomatoes. When you slice into it with your fork milk appears to ooze out. It is absolutely delicious. We also learned that you should never refrigerate it, rather it should sit in the bowl of water on your countertop covered until you finish eating it, within a day or two. Wow, who knew? But so perfectly simply good.

When I am in the company of Italian friends who can also speak English I ask them to impart their Italian cooking knowledge to me. They describe how not to over power food with garlic, not to add too much sauce, but let each ingredient stand out on its own, the simple joys of olive oil and garlic sautéed with clams until they open up, a fresh squeeze of lemon and parsley. It needs nothing else. A friend described how to cook beans: always use fresh or dried, never canned. Sautéed with olive oil, celery and carrots, he makes the sign of fingers to his lips kissing them, perfection. Frank Sinatra sang about it “When the stars make you drool just like Pasta Fazool…” wow, a bean dish that makes you croon like Frank Sinatra? Pasta Fazool is another way to say Pasta Fagiolo (Pasta with Beans), can beans and pasta really taste that good? I think maybe you have to be raised on that dish to want to sing about it like Frankie. The same friend told me we don’t cook food, we I kill it. He meant Its overcooked, cooked on too high of heat and too many ingredients added. No, it must be slow, gentle, simple. You must taste each ingredient and let its freshness and good quality stand on its own.

Another Italian friend asked me what Italian food I have eaten, when I started to describe the food I have eaten, she said “No, not restaurants, what food has been cooked for you in an Italian home?” She said until I have had that I have not eaten Italian food. She says for it to be a true example it cannot be made by a foreigner, only by an Italian. When Jeff protested and said many people cook good food she said “No. There are many bad things about Italy, you can complain about our transportation, you can say it is dirty here with trash and graffiti, but the one thing we have is Italian food. It is the best, no one can touch it”. It’s true, it is one of the reasons for coming to Italy, but we are enjoying many other things Italy offers as well. The history…the buildings and fountains and art and museums and of course the Italians themselves. They are gregarious, social and friendly, it’s a joy to experience everyday life with them.

So I still haven’t learned to cook Italian food like an Italian, but I have learned that Mostarda (the preserved pears with essence of mustard from my ravioli cooking failure) is delicious with fresh ricotta served on a cracker and enjoyed with a glass of locally grown Cacchione (a white wine from from this region). I have learned to put together a pretty amazing antipasta platter with spicy salame, prosciutto, grapes, cherry peppers, Gorgonzola and marinated artichokes. I have learned not to shoot for the moon when I cook, but instead to enjoy the simple perfection of Italian Ingredients.

Oh who am I kidding? I will always try to shoot for the moon when I cook and I may never learn to slow down or cook on low but a girl can keep trying, right?

I am learning that Italy must be explored like an onion, layer by layer. One cannot come to Italy and try to experience it and learn its ways in a three week marathon. Rather, one week you may discover how to buy wine and one week you will discover where the local fresh pasta shop is. One day you are schooled in the art of the perfect mozzarella and the next day discover the joys of fresh porchini. We having been studying deeply the art of cappuccino, espresso and macchiatos. When you order an espresso they should serve you a short glass of sparkling water before, not after. Only order cappuccino before lunch, espresso or macchiato after lunch. We have ducked into many coffee bars to learn these valuable lessons and spent a night or two tossing and turning because we studied this topic too late into the afternoon. Don’t try to keep up with Italians when it comes to drinking espresso, you will pay the price.

Next up is the art of the Apertivo (Italian Happy Hour). I look forward to studying this deeply while I continue to be schooled by Italians in the art of La Dolce Vita.