This article is about basil pesto, the second most famous Italian pasta sauce, of course after tomato sauce.
However, this is not about the traditional way to make “Pesto Genovese” – using a mortar; there are plenty of good resources on that (as greatly summarized on Food Lover’s Odyssey). This article is about the more modern way to make pesto – using a blender, a method which is quite common also in Italy.
Technically the word “pesto” comes from the Italian ‘pestare’, to pound. Therefore, the purists would argue that this sauce should be called differently when made in a blender.
Aside from how it should be called, does the pesto made in a blender taste the same as the traditional one? Absolutely not. But it does get close, and it’s much better than any pesto that I could ever buy in a jar.
But before we start throwing basil leaves into the blender, it’s important to know that chopped basil is prone to oxidation – it turns dark and deteriorates in flavor when in contact with the oxygen in the air. Luckily oxidation can be countered by allowing the basil leaves to dry completely before blending them so that the oil can create a seal around the chopped leaves, keeping the oxygen away.
Basil also deteriorates and changes flavor when heated too much. To help counter this, the blender must be activated in pulses in order to limit the overall blending time and the corresponding friction produced by the blades. It also helps to chill the blender bowl and blade in the freezer before use.
Pesto sauce is traditionally used on trenette, trofie (pictured below), but also on linguini, spaghetti (as in this post’s feature image), and even gnocchi.
Making Basil Pesto in a Blender
Yield: 4 servings as pasta sauce
Total Time: 15 minutes
Prep Time: 15 minutes
Ingredients
100 g fresh basil leaves (if you can find it, prefer the Genovese kind)
50 g Parmigiano (or a mix of Parmigiano & Pecorino cheese)
25 g pine nuts (possibly, from the Mediterranean)
½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 teaspoon of coarse salt
1 clove of garlic (optional)
Preparation
Gently wash the basil under cold running water and then lay it on a towel and let it dry completely (fig. 1). Do not bend or crush the leaves.
Meanwhile, put the blender's bowl and blade in the freezer for at least 10 minutes (fig. 2a).
Pour all of the oil in the blender, then add the crushed garlic (if using it) and the basil. Give it a few pulses until the leaves are roughly chopped up (fig. 2b).
Add the cheese, grated or cut in small bits, and the salt (fig. 2c). Give it a few more spins.
Add the whole pine nuts (fig. 2d).
Give a few last spins and extract from the blender (fig. 3).
Notes
If the sauce is not used immediately, it can be preserved in the fridge for up to two to three days. Store it in a tall and narrow container (e.g.: a glass) and top it up with an extra tablespoon of olive oil. Before using it, leave the sauce out of the fridge an hour - don't warm it up, or you'll cause the cheese to lump together and separate from the oil. Pesto can also be frozen, in that case some recommend not to add the cheese until the sauce is thawed.
Paccheri are undoubtedly the most majestic kind of short pasta one can find! With a diameter of 1 ½ inch (4 cm), thick walls, and a rough surface, each guarantees an unbeatable bite, or two!
The Paccheri shape originates in the Campania region of Italy, which is also where you find Gragnano – a town near Naples recognized as the capital of dried pasta. As you can imagine, when I stumbled upon a box of Paccheri made in Gragnano, I couldn’t resist!
However, I was still waiting for inspiration for the right sauce that would bring out the fantastic character of this pasta. As a northern Italian, now that it’s colder outside, I naturally drifted towards creamy mushrooms. But that wasn’t enough. So I added Gorgonzola for a pleasant blue kick and Mascarpone for extra creaminess and depth. The resulting recipe is very straightforward, quick to make, and very forgiving in the amounts, even in the timing.
Ingredients for 2 servings
5 oz Paccheri (150 g) (can also use Rigatoni or other short dried pasta of sufficient presence)
3. Add the sliced mushrooms to the pan and roast them at high heat.
4. Continue sautéing the mushrooms until they have softened.
5. Start boiling the pasta for the time written on the box (usually around 14 minutes), which corresponds to an al-dente cooking level.
6. Add a splash of white wine to the mushrooms and let evaporate completely.
7. When the pasta is 5 minutes from ready, go back to the mushrooms, remove the garlic, and season lightly with salt.
8. Add the Mascarpone, Gorgonzola, and cream.
9. Still keeping very low heat, add ½ of the grated Parmigiano and mix everything into a creamy sauce. Note: should the sauce become too thick, add some of the pasta water.
10. When the pasta is ready, drain it quickly and add it to the pan with the sauce. Note: save some of the pasta water by draining the pasta back into the pan where it was boiled.
11. Finish cooking the pasta in the sauce for a couple of minutes, adding some of the pasta water to ensure the sauce remains silky smooth. This won’t overcook the pasta.
12. Plate gently into preheated bowls, then sprinkle with the rest of the Parmigiano.
Paccheri with Mushrooms, Gorgonzola, and Mascarpone Cream
Yield: 2 servings
Total Time: 30 minutes
Prep Time: 15 minutes
Cook Time: 15 minutes
Ingredients
5 oz Paccheri (150 g) (can also use Rigatoni or other short dried pasta of sufficient presence)
In a large nonstick pan, heat up oil and butter, add the crushed garlic.
Add the sliced mushrooms to the pan and roast them at high heat.
Continue until the mushrooms have softened.
Start boiling the pasta for the time written on the box (usually around 14 minutes).
Add a splash of white wine to the pan and let it evaporate completely.
When the pasta is 5 minutes from ready, go back to the mushrooms pan, remove the garlic, and season them lightly with salt.
Then add the Mascarpone, the Gorgonzola, and the cream.
Still keeping very low heat, add 1/2 of the grated Parmigiano and mix everything into a creamy sauce. Note: should the sauce become too thick, add some of the pasta water.
When the pasta is ready, drain it quickly and add it to the pan with the sauce. Note: save some of the pasta water by draining the pasta back into the pan where it was boiled.
Finish cooking the pasta in the sauce for a couple of minutes, adding some of the pasta water to ensure the sauce remains silky smooth. This won't overcook the pasta.
Plate gently into preheated bowls, then sprinkle with the rest of the Parmigiano.
Butter and Sage sauce is often what comes to mind when showcasing ricotta-filled ravioli, and especially spinach and ricotta ravioli. In Italy, meatless preparations like this are sometimes called “di magro” (literally, “of lean”), with reference to the foods that are allowed during lent according to the Christian tradition. Really, though, this dish is anything but lean – it’s a decadent buttery and cheesy delicacy that is technically not even vegetarian due to the presence of Parmigiano (made with rennet).
As a gentle twist to the common spinach flavoring, this herb and ricotta ravioli recipe makes use of Swiss chard (“bietola” in Italian), which is slightly more bitter, flavored with more sage, parsley, and a touch of garlic.
As for the origin of ravioli themselves, we need to go all the way back to the Middle Ages. Over the centuries, these early preparations have produced several regional staples, from Anolini and Cappelletti, to Tortelli, Tortellini, Tortelloni, Agnolotti, and Casoncelli, just to name a few!
Ingredients for two servings
For the dough
– 100 g flour
– 1 egg
– pinch of salt
– bit of water
For the filling
– 125 g ricotta, drained
– 1 egg yolk
– 20 g Parmigiano, grated
– 150 g Swiss chard
– 25 g fresh sage
– some parsley (optional)
– 1 clove garlic (optional)
– some olive oil
– pinch of salt
To boil
– 2 Tbsp coarse salt
For the sauce
– 30 g butter
– 10 sage leaves
For the plating
– More grated Parmigiano
Preparation
Let’s start with the dough! Put the egg, the flour, and a pinch of salt into a mixing bowl. Mix into a dry crumble, then add a tiny bit of water – just enough so you can knead it into a firm but elastic ball. Cover and let it rest for 1/2 hour.
Meanwhile, wash the chard and put it into a large pan. Put the lid on and cook at high heat, stirring occasionally, for about 5 minutes until it almost disappears!
Next, put the cooked chard into a potato ricer and squeeze out as much water as you can. Then, chop it coarsely.
Now, wash and dry sage and parsley and chop them finely. Heat up some olive oil in a frying pan. Roast the sage and parsley for a couple of minutes, then discard the garlic.
In a mixing bowl, add the well-drained ricotta, the egg yolk, the grated Parmigiano, the cooked chard, and the crispy sage and parsley. Mix well.
Once a half-hour has elapsed, roll the dough until very thin (max 1 mm thick). Using a sharp round container (about 5-6 cm diameter), cut circles out of the dough. Re-knead the offcuts and re-roll the remaining dough to cut more circles. This is also a good time to start bringing a large pan of water to a boil.
Fill each raviolo with a teaspoon of ricotta mix. Fold the dough onto itself and press around the edge. Continue until all ravioli are filled. Lay them out on a wooden surface or on a floured tray.
Then make the sauce by melting the butter and adding fresh sage leaves. Let it simmer for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, boil the ravioli in plenty of salty water for about 4 minutes.
At this point, plate the ravioli on preheated dishes. Drizzle them with the sage butter sauce, and sprinkle them with some more Parmigiano.
Herb and Ricotta Ravioli with Sage Butter Sauce
Yield: 2 portions
Total Time: 1 hour
Prep Time: 50 minutes
Cook Time: 10 minutes
Ingredients
For the dough
100 g flour
1 egg
pinch of salt
bit of water
For the filling
125 g ricotta
1 egg yolk
20 g Parmigiano, grated
150 g chard, can also use spinach
25 g sage
some parsley (optional)
1 clove garlic
some olive oil
pinch of salt
To boil
2 Tbsp coarse salt
For the sauce
30 g butter
10 sage leaves
For the plating
More grated Parmigiano
Preparation
Put the egg, the flour, and a pinch of salt into a mixing bowl. Mix into a dry crumble, then add a tiny bit of water – just enough so you can knead it into a firm but elastic ball. Cover and let it rest for 1/2 hour.
Meanwhile, wash the chard and put it into a large pan. Put the lid on and cook at high heat, stirring occasionally, for about 5 minutes until it almost disappears!
Put the cooked chard into a potato ricer and squeeze out as much water as you can. Then, chop it coarsely.
Wash and dry sage and parsley and chop them finely. Heat up some olive oil in a frying pan. Roast the sage and parsley for a couple of minutes, then discard the garlic.
In a mixing bowl, add the well-drained ricotta, the egg yolk, the grated Parmigiano, the cooked chard, and the crispy sage and parsley. Mix well.
Once a half-hour has elapsed, roll the dough until very thin (max 1 mm thick). Using a sharp round container (about 5-6 cm diameter), cut circles out of the dough. Re-knead the offcuts and re-roll the remaining dough to cut more circles. This is also a good time to start bringing a large pan of water to a boil.
Fill each raviolo with a teaspoon of ricotta mix. Fold the dough onto itself and press around the edge. Continue until all ravioli are filled. Lay them out on a wooden surface or on a floured tray.
Then make the sauce by melting the butter and adding fresh sage leaves. Let it simmer for 5 minutes. Meanwhile, boil the ravioli in plenty of salty water for about 4 minutes.
Plate the ravioli on preheated dishes. Drizzle them with the sage butter sauce, and sprinkle them with some more Parmigiano.
Among all vegetables, peppers arguably have the most unique flavor! Romano peppers are sweeter and caramelize wonderfully when roasted, which makes them a great addition to a tomato-based soup, balancing its acidity and gaining depth in return.
If this isn’t enough, like most Italian soups this recipe makes use of the classic celery/carrot/onion soffritto both as a thickener and for its flavor. Again, roasting is key to cause browning and the development of the many aromatic compounds that go with it.
The predictable addition of chili powder adds yet another layer of complexity and, of course, the nerve endings stimulus that we perceive as heat (please check out my very first podcast titled Salty and Spicy to hear more about the chemistry involved.)
Oh, this recipe happens to be vegan 🙂 Enjoy!
Romano Pepper Soup
Total Time: 1 hour, 20 minutes
Prep Time: 20 minutes
Cook Time: 1 hour
Ingredients
1/4 onion, chopped
2 celery sticks, sliced
1 carrot, cubed
2 red 'Romano' peppers, sliced
200 g 'passata' strained tomatoes
20 g tomato paste
2 cups vegetable stock
olive oil
salt
chili powder
black pepper, ground
Preparation
Roast the peppers in olive oil, with some salt, in a frying pan at medium heat until tender - 15 minutes (add a splash of water from time to time if the peppers start to burn).
Meanwhile, roast the other veggies in olive oil for 10 minutes at high heat in a medium pot.
Add the roasted peppers, the strained tomatoes, the tomato paste, and the veggie stock to the pot with the vegetables. Bring to a boil.
Lower the heat and cook for 1/2 hr stirring from time to time.
Strain the soup using a strainer or a food mill with a fine mesh.
Re-add the strained soup to the pot and resume cooking for another 1/2 hr stirring occasionally.
Add chili powder to taste and adjust the salt.
Serve with a sprinkle of freshly ground black pepper.
Wine, cheese, and olive oil sommelier Benedetta Bianchini and pastry chef Valeria Bianchini talk about their family company Local Aromas, which specializes in walking tours, cheese & wine tasting, and cooking classes in Rome, Italy, as well as online cooking classes.
During the episode, we discuss the four famous Roman pasta dishes, the Florentine Lampredotto, sweet wine and cheese pairing, the Roman dish called Suppli`, and the three kinds of Roman pizza.
If you are interested to join the online cooking school Italian Home Cooking (made simple!), Valeria and Benedetta have kindly offered a special discount for Disgraces on the Menu readers. Use the discount code DISGRACESONTHEMENU for a 15% discount on the monthly subscription to the entire school!
Never would have thought I could obtain these results in my regular oven and without special equipment. But after 11 months of weekly baking, fresh sourdough loaves have become a reliable tradition in our family.
I’ve been thinking of posting my method for a while, but only now feel confident that it’s sufficiently streamlined and repeatable–hence this blog post today!
It all began when my co-worker, Jules, kindly gave me part of her sourdough starter, which came from a restaurateur she knew along with their recipe. Baking bread, though, is very much something that one has to tune to their own equipment, method, and of course liking. Over time, I’ve been refining my technique to the point where I’ve been getting consistent results. But by no means is this the only way to bake bread at home and it can certainly be improved.
First, though, you may be wondering – okay, where do I get my own starter? Well, unfortunately, I can’t really help you with that. It is possible to grow it from scratch, but it’s not easy because it is made of a stable symbiotic mixture of yeast and lactobacilli. My friend Mark Preston describes the process in detail, but as you can read it’s a very difficult route that will take a lot of time (and money!) Instead, I recommend asking a baker if they can sell you a piece of their levain starter – or a piece of their uncooked, unsalted sourdough. Speaking of which, there are different kinds of sourdough, each with a different flavor and level of sourness. I like a very mildly sour sourdough, but more sourness (possibly an acquired taste), is appreciated by many (famous is San Francisco’s sourdough, which also names its bacterial culture).
So, say you were able to get a hold of some good sourdough starter, what should it look like? The starter is made of living microorganisms that need feeding and produce by-products. The metabolic process is slower at low temperatures and accelerates with heat. If kept in the fridge, after 5-7 days your sourdough starter will be hungry–it will look bubbly, may have liquid on the top (left image below), and it will smell a bit like beer.
Ripe sourdough starter ready to be fed (left). Feed consisting of 100 g of strong flour and 100 g of water (right).
If you forget to feed your starter, after a couple of weeks it will start to go bad. It’s possible to rescue a starved starter by repeated splitting and feeding, but sometimes it may be too late. If one knows they’re not going to be able to feed for ten or more days, it’s possible to slow down the starter’s metabolism almost completely by freezing it. However, freezing, just like starvation, causes some damage and the thawed starter will need some repeated splitting and feeding to fully come back to life. If at all possible, I recommend treating your starter like a pet and either taking it on vacation with you or arranging for someone to care for it during your absence.
FEEDING
Equipment
Plastic mixing jar.
High precision kitchen scale.
Air-tight tub for storing.
Ingredients
100 g starter to be fed.
100 g high-gluten ‘strong’ flour.
100 g regular tap water, or non-carbonated bottled mineral water if your tap water is especially soft, or very chlorinated. The recipe below assumes water at room temperature.
Instructions
Use or dispose of all but 100 g of starter.
Mix 100 g flour and 100 g water and stir energetically.
Incorporate the 100 g of starter into the mix, stirring from bottom to top.
Put the mix in an air-tight container and keep it in the fridge for 5-8 days undisturbed.
Now that your starter has been fed, you are left with some excess starter that is ripe and ready to be used! The instructions below assume you have about 150 g of ripe starter. If you don’t have enough, keep feeding your starter weekly until you have enough feed leftover to bake with.
BAKING BREAD
Equipment
Proving basket. Using a wooden (rattan) banneton is essential to allow the dough to undergo its final slow rise without drying out while forming a “skin” – the beginning of your bread’s crust. I use a 20 cm round basket, similar to this one. If the basket comes with linen lining, the latter can be used to smooth out the basket’s walls. Since I like seeing the basket rings in the final product, I use the lining as a lid during proving.
Cast iron casserole, a.k.a. Dutch oven. A 4.7 liters one will work perfectly for the recipe I’m about to describe. A casserole is essential when baking in a standard oven because it creates an enclosed space that fills with steam during baking, allowing the bread to do its final rise and cook through without burning. A double-dutch oven (resting on its shallow pan) or a spun-iron baking cloche can also be used and are preferable to the casserole because they allow easier access.
From left to right: cast-iron casserole, double-Dutch oven, spun-iron baking cloche.
Scoring blade (optional), similar to this one. A very sharp paring knife can also be used.
Cooling rack (optional). Two wooden spoons placed flat on a cutting board can also be used to support the loaf while it cools down.
Ingredients
NOTE: These quantities make a ~800 g loaf (about 20 cm in diameter, 12 cm tall) that fits in a 4.7 l casserole.
150 g ripe sourdough starter.
150 g strong flour and 150 g water for the first rise.
330 g strong flour and 150 g water for the second rise.
1 tablespoon rice or semolina flour as a coating for the proving basket.
NOTE: The quantities above correspond to a 67% hydration (the ratio between water and flour). Higher hydration (e.g.: 80%) results in a lighter sourdough with a thinner and crunchier crust. However, high hydration also means a stickier dough during preparation which requires a lot of technique! Since I posted this article, I have been practicing increasing hydration to 72% by reducing the amount of flour for the second rise from 330 to 300 g. The improvement is noticeable, but the proportions above still yield a fantastic product that is also very easy to obtain.
Instructions
NOTE: I’m presenting the slow-rise version of this recipe. It can be shortened by reducing or removing the resting time in the fridge, replacing it with a shorter resting time outside of the fridge (8 hours in the fridge equal to about 1 hour outside of it). However, I should warn you that, for reasons beyond my understanding, slow-risen bread will look and taste better!
Day 1
Mix 150 g flour + 150 g water then incorporate 150 g starter and leave out of fridge 4-6 hrs (4 hrs on a hot summer day, 6 hrs in winter). After this time, the mix should look quite bubbly and have roughly doubled in size. Put it in the fridge overnight in an airtight container.
The first rise, before and after.
Day 2
In a large mixing bowl, combine 330 g strong flour and 10 g table salt. Then add 150 g water and the risen mix from Day 1. Mix as best as you can in the mixing bowl by using a big spoon (can use a food processor as well for this step.) Let it rest at room temperature for half an hour.
Strong flour and salt are weighed and combined. Then, the risen dough from day 1 is added, along with more water.
Place the dough on a stainless steel or stone worktop and knead every half hour for 2 additional hours.
Roll the dough onto itself to create surface tension as demonstrated in the video below.
Brush the proving basket generously and thoroughly with semolina or rice flour. These are preferable to regular wheat flour as the latter tends to become moist and stick to the basket during proving (a quite unfortunate event!)
Put the dough in the basket upside down (seam up), and leave in the fridge for 8 hrs or overnight to prove covered with a towel or linen lid. After this time, the dough should have increased in volume by about 50%.
The folded dough is placed in a proving basket. Then, after a slow rise at a low temperature, the dough is ready to be baked.
Day 3
With the proofing basket still in the fridge, preheat the oven with the cast-iron casserole inside for about 30 mins at 250℃ (480℉).
Take the proving basket out of the fridge, and flip it on a sheet of grease-free parchment paper.
Score the top with a sharp knife or razor blade. These cuts will expand during cooking allowing excess CO2 to escape and the crust to expand for the final in-oven rise. I like to make one big cut, at least 5 mm (1/4”) deep, and shallower cuts as a decoration. Bread scoring is a difficult and fascinating art, I only lately have started to obtain decent results – don’t be upset if your bread breaks in all the wrong places!
Before baking, the risen sourdough is scored with a sharp blade.
Lifting by the parchment paper, place the dough into the super-hot casserole. This operation is easier if using a baking cloche or a double Dutch oven because they have a shallower bottom.
Immediately, put the lid on, put the casserole back in the oven, and bake for 40 minutes at 250℃ (480℉).
Remove the lid and bake for 10 more minutes lowering the temperature to 230℃ (450℉) if you have a fan oven, or maintaining 250℃ (480℉) otherwise.
The sourdough ball is placed in the hot casserole. After baking, the sourdough loaf is ready!
As an easier alternative, the dough can be baked in a cast-iron double-dutch oven (using its deep pan as a lid). The parchment paper is then optional.
After baking, lifting by the parchment paper, place the loaf on the wire rack to let it cool for at least half an hour before cutting into it. If the rise was sufficiently uniform, the scoring cuts will have uniformly expanded.
The baked loaf cools down on a wire rack.
Allow the proving basket to dry in warm air (I leave mine near the oven as the bread bakes), then brush off the excess flour using a dedicated hard brush. If some of the dough is stuck to it, the basket can be washed in cold water without any detergents and then allowed to air-dry.
The resulting sourdough should have a spongy texture.
If things go well, your loaf should be fragrant, slightly chewy, and should have air bubbles of varying sizes trapped in it.
Using flour that is not very strong or mixing in whole-wheat flours will produce smaller, more uniform bubbles and a mealier texture. Small bubbles and a tougher, denser loaf may also result from an under proved or over proved fermentation, or the effect of machine kneading.
Home-Baked Sourdough Bread – At Last!
Total Time: 2 hours
Prep Time: 1 hour, 10 minutes
Cook Time: 50 minutes
Ingredients
150 g ripe sourdough starter
480 g strong flour
300 g water
A generous tablespoon of rice or semolina flour (recommended).
If the loaf is left whole, the crust will provide a natural barrier that will keep the bread fresh for a day. A slightly stale loaf will regain its fragrance if warmed up in the oven, or in a toaster if sliced. If the bread is not going to be consumed within the day, I recommend freezing it in halves or quarters as soon as it has cooled down. Allow the frozen loaf to thaw at room temperature for one hour, or for 5 minutes in the microwave set to the lowest power setting before consuming it.
Other Sourdough Recipes
The recipe I described is very much like a blank canvas! Different kinds of flours can be mixed in (e.g. whole wheat, spelt, sprouted grains), as well as other ingredients added (olives, nuts, dried figs, shredded cheese.) A tablespoon of olive oil will result in a softer loaf that will stay fresh for longer.
One of my favorite variations is to add half a cup of shredded sharp cheddar into the last fold!
What about sourdough pizza, pretzels, waffles, donuts? Yes, please! All of those and more are possible and delicious. I’ve been using my coworker Zoe’s pizza recipe with great results, please see below for the instructions. I’ve also experimented with other sourdough preparations, but my results are still inconsistent. I’ll report back when I’ll know more–please continue to send me your recipes!
Zoe’s Sourdough Pizza
Ingredients: – 30 g mature starter – 380 g strong flour – 250 ml water – 10 g olive oil – 10 g salt
Mix the starter, the water, and the olive oil together separately first. Whisk together.
Add to the flour and the salt.
Mix and leave uncovered for an hour or two.
Fold it a bit.
Cover and leave out of the fridge for ~24hrs.
Shape the dough into 2 balls and leave to rise for 2 hrs before cooking.
Stretching – it literally falls right out into a pizza shape.
Cooking:
If using a pizza stone, leave it in the oven for it to heat up slowly to 250℃ (480℉). Slide the stretched dough with toppings onto the stone. Bake for 2-3 minutes, turn it around, bake for another 2 mins.
If using a perforated pizza tray, bake for 7-8 minutes at 240℃ (460℉) or until the cheese is bubbly.
Sourdough Breadsticks
Breadsticks, or ‘grissini’ in Italian, are another, quicker, preparation that can make use of a sourdough starter.
Ingredients: – 150 g mature starter – 300 g strong flour – 50 g butter, melted – 5 g salt – 2 g sugar – 1 Tbsp rosemary (chopped, optional) – 1 tsp dried oregano (optional) – 1/4 tsp black pepper (ground, optional) – 1 Tbsp milk or beaten egg (optional) – 1 Tbsp coarse salt (optional)
Feed the starter with 150 g of flour and 150 g of water at room temperature.
Let it grow for 3-4 hours outside of the fridge until it almost doubles in volume. Can rest overnight in the fridge if unable to bake on the same day.
Add the rest of the flour, the salt, and the sugar, mixing as much as possible in a bowl.
Work in the melted butter, then continue kneading by hand on a working surface. If desired, add chopped rosemary, or oregano, and/or black pepper.
Divide the dough in half, then in half again, and again until you obtain 8 balls of roughly equal size. Roll them into cylinders.
Warm up the oven to 225℃ (430℉).
Let the cylinders rest for 10 minutes for the gluten strands to relax, then pull them gently to make them thinner and longer, and cut them in half.
Lay the cylinders on a baking sheet previously covered in parchment paper.
If desired, brush them with milk or beaten eggs, then sprinkle with coarse salt.
Bake for 15 minutes until the tips darken considerably.
Cracked pepper and oregano breadsticks, brushed with milk and sprinkled with coarse salt.
During my last Italy trip, I got a chance to document the making of a dish that has become a staple in my family: potato-crusted sea bream. Based on a quick search, it appears to be quite popular in Italy and it has started to be featured internationally on restaurant menus.
Quite possibly, the diffusion of this preparation follows the increased popularity of Orata (Gilt-head sea bream) and Branzino (European seabass), two kinds of marine white fish that are delicately flavored and low in fat, but still moist and tender.
This is my mother’s take on the dish, a festive second course that showcases its simple but noble ingredients.
Potato Crusted Sea Bream (Orata in Crosta di Patate)
Yield: 3 servings
Total Time: 1 hour
Prep Time: 25 minutes
Cook Time: 35 minutes
Ingredients
3 sea bream fillets, skin on, can also use seabass
3 yellow potatoes, sliced 3-4 mm (1/8 inch) thick
3-4 rosemary twigs, needles detached and finely chopped
olive oil
salt & white pepper
Preparation
Mince the rosemary needles, we used a 'mezzaluna' knife, but a chef knife will do.
Peel and wash the potatoes.
Slice the potatoes. We used a food processor with a slicing blade, but a mandoline slicer works too. It's important that the slices are not too thin and not too thick, therefore slicing them by hand is not advisable.
Allow the slices to rest on a towel and pat them dry with some paper towel.
Line the bottom and sides of a large bowl with potato slices and dress with a sprinkle of olive oil, salt, pepper, chopped rosemary.
Then add another layer of potato slices and repeat the seasoning. Continue until you've used all potato slices, then gently slide them around in the bowl to complete the seasoning. Preheat the oven at 200 C.
Put the fish fillets, skin down, on lightly oiled parchment paper, season them with salt, pepper, and rosemary.
Cover each fillet with partially overlapped potato slices.
For the first time in this blog, I have the pleasure to feature a guest post. This article is by enologist, writer, and photographer Melinda King. To know more about Melinda, check out The Premise of Italian Cuisine podcast.
Melinda King
Italian culture is special in ways that are delicately combined, tangible and intangible. It would be impossible to disconnect Italian culture from the topic of Italian food, and the entire nation is formed by connections of things grown and eaten. Eating evokes emotional, memory, sensory, spiritual, and gustatory reactions, which are born from chemistry and imagination. This is a proud food system made from thousands of years of place-specific combinations; exceptional raw ingredients, combined and shared at tables, are traded in markets and perfected with love. Italian flavors are a stunning collection of colorful stories that grow from field to city, within regions—after all, the country was a collection of nation-states until unification in 1861. The subject of authenticity is constant to hungry Italians, who does it best, according to the way it is supposed to be done. Although they are talented innovators, tradition is the mark of excellence and respect. Thus, we are left to wonder: what is Italian food? What is Italian? Now, the country that has been a historical crossroads is asking serious questions about identity. Thoughts on the Table is the brilliant work of a worldly Italian (Paolo Rigiroli) who is brave enough to explore these themes. What Italians eat (and how), he reminds us, is every bit who they are.
And it is the Italians who have the hardest time answering these queries. The food is a source of incredible comfort and passion, and it is very difficult to reach conclusions. In an effort to distill one singular definition for the entirety of “Italian food,” one might say it is agriculture. This reminds us that the cuisine is an honorable and humble form of hard work. It is the superlative expression of microclimate, microbiology, and sunshine. It is the Italian people, respecting the gifts of their land, who proceed to turn wheat fields into toothsome vermicelli, lemons to acrid limoncello, winter cabbage into soothing ribollita, and 140-kg pigs into rose-leather prosciutto. Wine is further example of Italian agricultural genius.
How is it possible to organize such an enormous, magnificent topic? Taking into consideration so many places, dialects, seasons, and details, what is Italian food, and where does it come from? Are we being too precious about what we eat? Does place truly matter? And how can an entire nation be world-known such a thing as flavor?
Recently, a friend of mine traveled to Rome, and wanted to buy a bottle of “authentic” Italian olive oil, to take with him back to Sweden. He found a large store, and assumed it would be a simple purchase. He tells me that it took forty minutes for him to decide on a single bottle, after asking three employees for help and making various searches on his cell phone. “There were so many bottles!” he exclaimed. “So many oils, from so many places, and so many different prices! Why do they do this?” In the end, he bought the smallest one, and left. Italy is very proud of its products, and olive oil is an incredibly critical topic. I imagine my friend saw bottles from Puglia, Veneto, Sicilia, Toscana, and Umbria, at the least, as each claims its olives to be the best. There are then the categories of oils (virgin, extra virgin, cold press, organic, biodynamic, gold label, etc.) and sizes (1 oz. flavored with pepperoncini or truffle) to 5 kg. The oils are sacred to the places they come from, and one would use local oil for local dishes. Moreover, every Italian olive has different compounds (peppery, golden, green, honey, smoky, juniper), that is tied to the environment it was grown and processed in. Hundreds of such compounds have been identified which contribute to the distinctive organoleptic characteristics that make Italian olive oil so exceptional.
Added to that, there are currently some issues in the worldwide olive oil industry, as origin is not easy to certify. Olives may be grown in Tunisia, and bottled in Spain. California olive oils companies used to quietly fly their products to southern Italy, where the plane would touch down and fill with gas, only to return to California for sale. This meant the oil bottles could be labeled with the words “From Italy.” Confusion is rampant in the marketplace, considering the brand of Italian foods.
How can Italian food protect and promote itself, and guarantee quality? This is important, more than ever, with the increasing global economy—and with new technologies (it is easier to mass produce foods, or copy ones already existing). What about Italian traditions? The individual state governments of Europe have, for the past few decades, been dealing with these issues within their own cultures. How to protect the integrity of Bulgarian cheeses, Greek wine, or German blood sausage? Italy was the second country, after France, to take action on certifying its natural food products. It was both a post-war reaction to economic and land issues, as well as a way to acknowledge the most important pieces of lifestyle. European states have since cooperated under the umbrella of the European Union, recognizing one another’s specialized products. Italy has been a tremendous example in this movement, to certify traditions in and out of its borders.
This does not mean that Italy published a list of official foods. Protected status does not cover lasagna and tiramisu. The topic is Geographical Indications (GI), and means that certain food products are trademarked as Italian, and cannot be impersonated or misrepresented. To be certified, the item must have a specific place of origin, a historically documented meaning, and production methods that adhere to exact steps and standards. They are the ingredients (animal products, herbs, fruits, vegetables, legumes, and dairy products) that make Italian food “Italian,” that they are raised in Italy, by Italians, where taste represents what cannot be verbalized. It is also a way to maintain identity, while earning a decent income. This applies to small-time producers, as well as the entire industries.
Geographical indications (GIs) is a legal status, represented with a visual package or label symbol, that identify a food as having originated from a specific place where a given attribute, reputation, or other characteristic of that good is attributable to its geographical home. GIs act like a trademark–once established, they confer certain exclusive rights to the owner. Unlike other intellectual property rights (patents, trademarks, copyrights), GIs are owned collectively by all producers in a region, rather than by an individual or a single company.
Note: there are Geographical indications are over the world (China, India, Sweden, Australia, South Africa, etc.). The United States is currently trying to garner support for their own system of GI (Georgia peaches, Idaho potatoes, California avocados), but the reputations of such products, and a strong system of capitalism, prevents the need for place/product protection. This article seeks to concentrate on the Italian context.
France was the first to certify national butter, cheese, and wine products (Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée, AOC). Roquefort cheese was regulated by a parliamentary decree in the year 1411; the modern system was reinstated in France in 1919. Italians followed with their own GI organization, post-war, as a way of naming and protecting cultural property within a delicate economic structure. Geographical indications were created by the European Union with Regulation 2081/921, seeking to solve communication problems between and within countries, for consumers and producers, while promoting rural development. Italian GI goods earned €15.2 million in production value in 2018, contributing 18% of the national agricultural economy.
There are 550 Sicilian growers certified for Sicilian arancia rossa (blood red oranges, IGP); each farm cultivates the same three arancia rossa varieties (there are three) according to the same rules, and is overseen and organized by a central ruling body called a consorzio. Each consorzio reports to the Ministero delle Politiche Agricole Alimentari, Forestali e del Turismo (MIPAAF), (Ministry of Agricultural, Food and Forestry Policies). These fruits are monitored by the Italian government, and have protection within the European Union.
The GI system has broad and precise stated objectives:
To promote foods, beverages, and wines with specific characteristics, particularly those coming from less-known or rural areas;
To improve the income of farmers who make “genuine effort to improve quality”;
Sustaining populations in rural areas;
Providing clear and “not-misleading” information to consumers regarding product origin;
Preserving cultural and historical identity.
Place-defined products connect value between food and territory, thus guaranteeing the quality for which a consumer pays a premium. The idea is to further prevent unwanted third parties from using terms, tactics, and marketing that mislead and misrepresent. Italian pride and livelihoods remain in the balance.
There are currently three European Union schemes for geographic preservation:
The EU Protected Geographical Status logos. [Fair use of copyrighted logos]
Protected Designation of Origin (PDO, red symbol): the entire product must be traditionally and entirely manufactured (prepared, processed and produced) within the specific region.
Protected Geographical Indication (PGI, blue symbol): the entire product must be traditionally and at least partially manufactured (prepared, processed or produced) within the specific region.
Traditional Specialties Guaranteed (TSG): food must be of “specific character” and either the raw materials, production method, or processing must be done in exact area (consistent for a minimum of 30 years).
The PDO logo applied on “Val di Non” apples, which are coincidentally brand-named ‘Melinda’.) [Photo by Melinda King]
Gorgonzola DOP sold in the United Kingdom, branded with both the PDO and the Consorzio logos.
Protected Italian Foods
Many of the GI items are known to anyone interested in Italian eating. The names of these items are synonymous with the places they come from, and the name alone acts as an Italian ambassador. Some of the expected items on the list: PDO Chianti Classico olive oil, PDO Lago di Garda olive oil, PDO Mortadella, Asiago cheese, PDO Basilico Genovese (think pesto), PDO Mozzarella di Bufala Campana, IGP Nocciola Piemonte (hazelnuts famed for chocolates).
Still, most of the items may be called peculiar or even uninteresting to those outside the places they are made. Some unexpected items: IGP Acciughe sotto sale del Mar Ligure (anchovies), IGP Carota dell’Altopiano del Fucino (“A carrot? That’s not sexy!”), Pane di Matera (specialized bread loaves from the Sassi cave town), three kinds of saffron, IGP Bresaola della Valtellina (dried horse meat is highly esteemed), four kinds of asparagus (Bassano, especially), five kinds of lemons, eight kinds of chestnuts, Bergamotto di Reggio Calabria essential oil, Kiwi Latina (an Italian kiwi? Yes, and it is magnificent!). Of course, this country is always surprising.
Asparagus, unexpected IGP. [Phtoto by Melinda King]It is quite common to see the PDO or IGP acronym in a restaurant or gelateria, where the pride of place ingredients is translated to the consumer, as a promise of something real and delicious to be had. And with the force of 0 KM eating, Slow Foods, Bio, Organic, and artisanal products, GI label status is not only economic, but “cool.”
The Italian McDonald’s featuring IG products. [Screenshot from www.mcdonalds.it]
Cin Cin
Italian wines have an exceptional portion of Geographical Indications to endorsement. GI wines are a vital element, though controversial, in the business and character of Italian winemaking. Autochthonous (native) grapes represent distinctive zones and methods of viticulture, each with unique climactic features. Nerello Mascaelese is a grape that only grows on Mount Etna, in Sicily; this grape is authorized as one of the grapes to be used in the Etna DOC red wine. Nerello Mascalese has been growing in this place for centuries. Popular international varieties such as Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, or Syrah need no protection–nor do they have such a significant history, cultivation, or sensory connection to Italian soil.
In 1964, Italy established a series of laws to safeguard the brilliance and authenticity of their wines. The directives define wines by characteristics such as: type of grape(s) used, alcohol content, bottling, labeling, how long the wine is aged, how and when to harvest, who can work the fields, machinery and tools, irrigation, naming, and sales promotions. In the last decades, several modifications and changes have been made to original legislation, as the numbers of wines and regions grow to the list. The last addition, made in 2010, established four basic categories that read consistent with concurrent European Union wine regulations (2008-2009) — Italian wines GIs are categorized as:
Vini (also known as ‘generic/table wines’): wines can be produced anywhere in the territory of the EU, label includes no certain indication of place origin (of grape varieties used or vintage); only the wine color is required to be listed on the bottle label (“Tavernello” often ‘house wine’). In some cases, however, table wines can have very high quality and be sought by connoisseurs that don’t need any official certifications (‘Super Tuscans’).
Vini Varietali (Varietal Wines): generic wines that derive mostly (at least 85%) from one kind of certified ‘international (grown in many places)’ grape variety (Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Chardonnay, Merlot, Sauvignon Blanc, Syrah) or entirely from two or more of them; grape used or vintage may be shown on the label (e.g. “Merlot-Raboso” blend from Veneto).
IGP (‘Protected Geographical Indication’ also known as IGT: ‘Typical Geographical Indication’): wines produced in a specific territory within Italy that follow precise regulations on allowed varieties, growing and vinification practices, organoleptic and chemical/physical characteristics, labeling instructions, among others (e.g. “Toscana IGT”).
DOP (‘Protected Designation of Origin’) which includes two classes:
DOC (Controlled Designation of Origin) These wines must have been IGP wines for at least 5 years, and generally come from smaller regions within a certain IGP territory; far stricter regulations and focus on territorial personalities; a DOC wine can be promoted to DOCG after 10 years.
DOCG (Controlled and Guaranteed Designation of Origin) In addition to fulfilling DOC requisites, DOCG wines meet tighter analyses before going to market; they must also demonstrate a superior commercial value, and are linked with historical development.
Currently, there exist 332 DOCs (e.g. “Aleatico di Gradoli DOC”) and 73 DOCGs (e.g. “Amarone della Valpolicella DOCG”) bringing total to 405 DOPs. The financial aspects of the wine GI are momentous; a single bottle of DOCG Brunello di Montalcino can sell for up to $550. A scandal shook the Brunello consorzio in 2008 (known as “Brunellopoli”), where select winemakers were suspect for mixing lower quality wine grapes from other regions with local Sangiovese. Vineyards were quarantined and hundreds of thousands of bottles seized by authorities, facing millions of dollars in fines and years in prison. The issue was potential violation of GI purity rules, written by the Brunello Consorzio ruling body, and approved by the Italian Agricultural Ministry. Charges were ultimately dropped, and agreements to reinforce production principles were made between the Consorzio and winemakers.
I spent a number of years working in a wine business in California. When customers asked about Italian wines, they asked for wines by company or grape. Furthermore, their purchase decisions were generally based on price; customers were fascinated anytime I gave them a back story to the makers of the wine, the place it was made, or the types of grapes used. A wine was Chianti or Prosecco, but they did not know why. I would point to the labeling below the cork, when appropriate—if the bottle had the DOC or DOCG certification. “So the government says this wine is the best?” they would ask. No, I would shake my head and give a brief description of what GI represents. “Oh,” they would continue, “so the Italian government says this wine is the best?” they would repeat. Every time.
No, the government has no sensory opinion on the wines being made. This is a label that a company pays for, in a group with other companies in the same place, in order to show you, the consumer, that they mean business. The bottle of Vino Nobile di Montepulciano comes from vineyard lands that were budding vines hundreds of years before the pilgrims even built their boat. That is what the GI system would like us to remember. Currently, I am working in a vineyard/winery on Mount Etna, in Sicily. The DOC here is exceedingly proud of its work, and place (terra) is the language spoken in every glass. The soil changes from sandy to limestone, then lava rock, within a few meters, and vines stand fierce tests of weather and volcano. Add the salt of the sea and the shine of the sun, and it makes for an extraordinary natural beverage. The GI labels struggle to describe these things to an American wine shopper: philosophy of terra in an island borough founded by Greek settlers in 734 B.C.E.
Although GIs may promote a food or wine’s reputation, the level of quality is not guaranteed above similar food items. The perception of GIs is a matter of personal consumer taste and company/brand marketing, and this is an important concept to understand. For example, there may be six options of lemons at the local market. Two are certified GI status, from Siracusa (Sicilia) and Sorrento (Campania), and one from Spain. The other three, local fruits, do not list variety, but are stamped with the farm and city of origin. The GI status lemons cost twice as many Euros per kilo. Would you choose a locally made lemon, a higher priced GI, or the least expensive Spanish one?
How much sway does GI play, in the eyes of a shopper? Does it shift our priorities–taste preference, price, or place of being picked? Would you scrimp on lemons but splurge on cheese? How is this any different from brand name luxury Italian Gucci, Ferrari, or Armani? Normal people buy according to experience and reputation. If it works, they buy again. Italy, itself, has become a brand. The Italian GI is represented on the food or drink label with a small circular symbol (red and yellow or blue and yellow, depending on legal status), so we see as we buy. But these certifications are very expensive, and they require a long and thorough vetting process.
The symbol on the food (package, container, box, fruit seal, or wine label) will tell the buyer that it was made in according to the tradition of the area, by people who live there, with local or regional resources, in Italy by Italians. It will taste the way it is supposed to taste, according to history of the place, made flavorful by unique environmental conditions that only that place can provide. Terra, confirms that balsamic vinegar from Modena can only come from Modena. In this case, the Balsamic Vinegar Consorzio is a nearly secret society of older gentlemen who speak very little and carry out regular chemical “alchemical” analysis with small glass pipets and sensorial tastings. They meet in quiet rooms, and keep careful records. But they are extremely exclusive, and there is worry that the Modena vinegar community will soon disappear. It is not easy to pass on the legacy, or attract much excitement, as the work is difficult and unattractive to outsiders. This kind of work must be psychologically understood. But this is a common problem today, in Italy, with gentrification, separating family structures, and move towards tech jobs and city life.
The taste of Sicilian Pachinotomatoes cannot be reproduced. Heart-shaped Marostica cherries, from Veneto, are blessed by cool mountain breeze and warm sunshine. There is a cherry festival to honor the local fruits, as well as a famous chess game played with real-life human pawns in the Piazza degli Scacchi. The game dates back to 1454 when it was organized to settle a courtly duel between two noble lords competing for the hand of a lady. The history, the climate, and the science of place convene to create, in legal status, a true Italian flavor. Travelers can go to the game, enjoy the festival, and feel the life behind the GI, every September.
Parmigiano Reggiano cheese is a prime example of a Geographical Indication, demonstrating food as an art form. Outside Italy, “Parmesan” (originally a term from France to refer to Italian hard cheeses) is used as a generic name to identify a product (cheese-like, but not always cheese), that has a flavor reminiscent of the famed nutty bite that we know from true Parmigiano Reggiano. However, this copy food lacks the origin, and artisan producers. Parmigiano Reggiano has a singular history, taste, and identity that is unmistakably Italian. The Consorzio for Parmigiano Reggiano Cheese was formed in 1934; in 1996, Parmigiano Reggiano earned complete legal status in the EU. The Consorzio states that “the secret of its goodness originates in the place of origin, in the natural feed, our types of milk cows, the wind, the incline of our hills and goodness of grass, and in the high-quality milk with no additives.” The term “Parmesan” comes from geographical origin and means “of or from Parma.”
Parmigiano Reggiano is not only a good cheese, but also healthy and nutritious (named the official food of the International Space Station). After creation, the cheese wheels are subjected to a maturation period of at least twelve months (twenty-four for the most common version, thirty-six months and more for finer stravecchio), allowing Parmigiano Reggiano to gain its characteristic granular structure. It is made from raw cow’s milk (not pasteurized; there are 245,000 cows in the production area registered to make Parmigiano Reggiano) only grass and hay, not silage. After primary creation, the cheese is put into a brine bath of Mediterranean sea salt for about 22 days and then aged. At twelve months, each cheese is inspected by an expert grader who uses a hammer to tap the cheese and by sound detect undesirable cracks and voids. Cheeses that pass inspection are branded on the rind with an inspector logo. To guarantee each cheese and catalogue quality, each cheese wheel (40 kg) is stenciled by hand with:
The Parmigiano Reggiano DOP acronym and consorzio seal;
Identification number of dairy (there are 363 certified Parmigiano Reggiano dairies);
Production month and year;
An alphanumeric code identifying every single wheel.
Rounds of Parmigiano-Reggiano. [Photo: Myrabella / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0]Every cheese is inspected by the consorzio, to verify if they are worthy of the Parmigiano Reggiano title, then fire branded when PDO standards are satisfied. There is a well-documented 800-year history of production, as it was first made by Benedictine monks in the same hilly areas. The processes are fiercely controlled by the consorzio, and every cheese is crafted with care, for excellence.
The cultural meaning for this cheese is also economic: in 2018, 149,000 tons (3.65 million wheels) of it was made by 50,000 Italians in Parma, Reggio Emilia, Modena, Mantua (to the right of the Po river), and Bologna to the left of the Reno river). In the same year, the cheese had a €2.2 billion estimated turnover at consumption (51,900 tons of it being exported). This is a meaningful cheese! It is easy to understand how such powerful food would have imitators. The name, alone, is sacred to the Italian people.
In 2003, the EU responded to a complaint filed by the Parmigiano Reggiano consorzio concerning the improper use by certain German companies of the name “Parmesan” as a generic name, on cheeses that neither exhibited the peculiarities of Parmigiano-Reggiano PDO, nor came from the area of origin—thus manipulating consumers and damaging reputation. German authorities refused to intervene, and thus the case was taken before the European Court of Justice. However, the case was ultimately dismissed, as the EU court did not have enough evidence to demonstrate German misuse of the generic name.
However, problems arise when deciding which phrases to protect as GIs. For example, although “Parmigiano Reggiano” is a protected GI under U.S. law (in an agreement made with Italian authorities and the cheese consorzio), the name “parmesan” is not protected—and this term is ubiquitous in American grocery markets on products that Italians would find abhorrent and embarrassing. Shoppers might even see Parmesan Reggianito, a hard Argentinean cheese invented by Italian immigrants who left Italy for South America after the Wars. They wanted to make something that would remind them of their native Parmigiano Reggiano.
Every few years, the Italian Parmigiano Reggiano consorzio tries to file legal action against a company in North America, regarding “Parmesan,” but an outright purge of all such cheese products would be impossible, and expensive. The issue comes down to labeling, but mostly, quality.
In 2012, American FDA agents investigated a cheese factory in Pennsylvania, called “Castle Cheese.” They were making goods sold as “100% real Parmesan” across the country; the cheese was found to contain cut-rate substitutes, chemicals, and fillers, such as wood pulp and cellulose. The Castle Cheese president pled guilty and was spent one year in prison, with a fine of one hundred thousand dollars, but the case was made on health standards—not Parmigiano Reggiano GI name protection. Kraft, America’s well-known mass pasteurized cheese mass brand, has argued that their parmesan cheeses actually promote and encourage the Parmigiano Reggiano product, rather than compete with or mock it.
This is why a podcast like “Thoughts on the Table” is so important: there is a tremendous need for a cross-cultural conversation about Italian food, by Italians and non-Italians, in the name of taste, access, affordability, and integrity. I can only imagine what it was like for Paolo, experiencing his first visit to a Canadian grocery store. It would be like showing him a roller skate and trying to convince him it was a car. Food is passionate and evocative; what happens when it is reduced to a transaction? We want to talk about grandmother’s soothing pasta dishes, not packaging standards.
Place Matters
Food is grown, traded, prepared, and shared according to geographical context. What you eat, for most of human history, depends on where you live. This is a field of study known as the GEOGRAPHY OF FOOD, which includes complex patterns and relationships between “space” and “place.” Taste transforms during stages of preparation. Quality means safe and wholesome ingredients, and consistency. This is where Italy excels. It has a vast range of topography, proximity to water, varieties of microclimates, and brilliant, creative farmers and chefs. As one of my friends reminds me, “our government is terrible, jobs are hard to get, and our soccer team fails in the World Cup, but we have the best eating in the entire world to console these pains.” The Mediterranean hits the Alpine ranges, and leave centuries of collaboration, giving this nation gastronomical and agricultural superiority. Science proves this, as well as our own opinions. And while so many things did not “originate” in this country, they are respected and perfected here: tomatoes, wines, pastas, coffee, and chocolate.
Place does matter—very much. In terms of food and wine, terra is the philosophical combination of physical and spiritual “place” that gives flavor. By flavor, I mean “memory,” the kind of meal we remember years after the dishes have been washed.
Geographic Indication is a legally recognized certification of quality for place-driven taste. It happens by tradition–meaning what is produced, how, and by whom. The Italian government is very serious about protection and recognition. History is, in my opinion, based in agriculture, and agriculture reveals identity. GI status strives to keep identity, while preserving the taste of memory.
In the name of authenticity, GI hopes to maintain marketplace clarity. Every protected food is traced, tracked, and guaranteed. There are major efforts by law enforcement agencies to uphold the legitimacy of food products. Olive oil, wine, balsamic vinegar, cheese, and prosciutto are some of the Italian products that are most copied and sold by fraud, or produced in sub-standard ways. Livestock are RFID tagged, and documented from conception to market shelf, and full records of genetic breeding are kept by the consorzio. A vegetable, a cheese, or a grape can be tracked by DNA testing, to assure the place it has come from. Italy has 822 registered GI products, more than any other nation, of the worldwide total 3,036 (2018 ISMEA). “Made in Italy” is very big business.
Of course, the Geographical Indications are quite general, and work with ideals. It is basically a package of economic safeguards—copyright schemes made in a non-capitalistic system. The European Union oversees each country’s regulations, and promotes communication across the board. Italy does not always enjoy being a part of the Union, though it gains considerably from the Geographical Indication projects. Aside from the spiritual and cultural lauds from economic protection, the PDO and PGI symbols are basically there to pay people to make good raw materials (beans, sardines, and kiwis). Italy must also realize that certification means Italians competing with Italians, long before the rest of the world. As Italians are hungry for creative and economic innovation, they are, more than ever, hungry to strengthen the core of their traditions.
Cultural Meaning
Nostalgia is everything to an Italian palate. So are relationships. Although larger food chains and grocery stores are trending, there is still a strong and regular desire to shop locally. How do GI products interact with everyday eating? How can we trust that the story behind the label is true? Some Italians do not support the GI system; there are many barriers to entry (certification costs, registration, legal oversight, documentation, North versus South quarrels) that prevent many from participating. Others detest the European Union. In a conversation with my elderly neighbors, Don Donato and his wife, Luciana, I asked their view on Italian Geographical Indications. Don Donato was quick to answer: “We do it because France did it, and we always have to compete with France. We have Italian food in a French system. Even the supermarkets are from France (Carrefour, Auchan in Veneto)… the problem is that Italians are very bad organizers. We have the good food, and the government doesn’t trust us with it.”
His wife does the food shopping, and said she never really noticed the food labels until last year, when she read about it in the paper. She generally keeps to the butcher, bakery, and produce shop in our small village, but goes to the shopping centers once or twice every month with her children’s families. Two things regularly astonish her: the amounts of products in the aisles, and the prices. Having choices, she told me, is very expensive. “If I want lentils from Umbria, we will go there. I am not about to pay so much for a bag of lentils. These are things that are made very well in my own area.” She told me that food is only as good as the person making it, and she can make any lentil taste Italian.
GI brands advertisement in Italy.
Can you taste the difference between a GI product and a non-GI product When it is late in the evening, and someone has prepared a beautiful Italian meal, simple and warm—what is the role of Geographical Indications for regional foods?
If my Swedish friend had known, at the least, to look for red and blue symbols on olive oil labels, his search would have been much simplified. He was looking for the best representation of an Italian olive oil, and those certification marks would have spoken for the people, processes, and places that make the oil authentic—as so the label would ideally have us believe. Later, I curiously asked which bottle he had selected from the large Roman grocery store. He laughed when he told me, “I don’t remember the name, but I bought an expensive one.” He continued, “But when I got home, I went to use it and saw, written right there on the backside: 100% California Olives.”
These contradictions make Italian food fascinating. The conversation continues…
Top 15 highest value (by production numbers) Italian Geographical Indications, 2018 (source: ISMEA—Qualivita)
http://www.aicig.it/ – Aicig (Associazione Italiana Consorzi Indicazioni Geografiche, Italian Association Geographic Indication Consortia) is a non-profit association between the various Consorzi that are recognized by the Ministry of Agricultural, Food and Forestry Policies. It represents 95% of Italian GI producers.
“Brunellopoli: A wine scandal under the Tuscan sun” – Tourism Review International 15(3):253-267 · July 2012 by Alessio Cavicchi (University of Macerata) and Cristina Santini (University San Raffaele, Roma).
NOTE: This article’s featured image is a view of Govone, Cuneo, from its castle. [Photo by Paolo Rigiroli].
Restaurateur and Italian food ambassador Simon Pagotto is back for another great chat!
In the first part of the episode, Simon talks about commercial kitchens and how they differ with respect to domestic kitchens. For instance, he discusses timing, the benefits of professional equipment, dealing with large quantities, and achieving a consistent product.
In the second part, Simon goes through a list of 12 questions he’s been asking other Italian food ambassadors to test their knowledge. You can read the question below, join our chat to hear my answers! Do you agree? 🙂
Questions for Italian food ambassadors
What dairy is in a pasta Carbonara?
Is chicken acceptable in a pasta and if not, why not?
Is there a right way to eat spaghetti? Is the use of a spoon acceptable?
Why do they call Parmigiano Reggiano the king of cheeses?
What’s your favourite pizza excluding a Margherita?
Name another rice dish that doesn’t have the words risotto, arancini or suppli in the name.
Does the word Ragu belong to just one plate or place?
Do you know of a seafood dish that is served with cheese, if so what is it?
Do you consider an area of Italy food more pure than any others?
Do have a favourite region for food and what makes that region so special to you?
Do you know some of the other regions of food as well as your favourite region?
(Optional) Have you ever had a slightly warmed (so the fat just goes clear) salami sandwich on bread with an egg fried in the fat? Or a googy egg (just boiled eggs mashed with olive oil, s & p and fresh chopped parsley) bruschetta for breakfast? No need to answer that one, just try it sometime. LOL.
If you missed it, check out Simon’s first episode here.
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Gently wash the basil under cold running water and then lay it on a towel and let it dry completely (fig. 1). Do not bend or crush the leaves. 
![[Thoughts on the Table – 79] Introducing Valeria and Benedetta from Local Aromas](../wp-content/uploads/2020/09/tot-localaromas.png)
![Italian PGI olive oil sold in the UK.[Photo by Paolo Rigiroli]](../wp-content/uploads/2019/04/olive-oil-2.jpg "Italian PGI olive oil sold in the UK.[Photo by Paolo Rigiroli]")
Recently, a friend of mine traveled to Rome, and wanted to buy a bottle of “authentic” Italian olive oil, to take with him back to Sweden. He found a large store, and assumed it would be a simple purchase. He tells me that it took forty minutes for him to decide on a single bottle, after asking three employees for help and making various searches on his cell phone. “There were so many bottles!” he exclaimed. “So many oils, from so many places, and so many different prices! Why do they do this?” In the end, he bought the smallest one, and left. Italy is very proud of its products, and olive oil is an incredibly critical topic. I imagine my friend saw bottles from Puglia, Veneto, Sicilia, Toscana, and Umbria, at the least, as each claims its olives to be the best. There are then the categories of oils (virgin, extra virgin, cold press, organic, biodynamic, gold label, etc.) and sizes (1 oz. flavored with pepperoncini or 
This is why a podcast like “
![[Thoughts on the Table – 74] Commercial vs. Domestic Kitchens and Italian Food Knowledge, with Simon Pagotto](../wp-content/uploads/2019/03/tot-simon2.png)
