Tag: sweet

[Thoughts on the Table – 96] What makes a dish Italian? With Eva from Electric Blue Food

In this new episode of Thoughts on the Table, Eva from Electric Blue Food is back to help me break down a massive topic: What makes a dish Italian?

To non-Italians, Italian food may be what appears on the menus of Italian restaurants or anything tagged as Italian that goes viral on social networks, like Carbonara, Amatriciana, Neapolitan Pizza, egg-yolk ravioli. To the Italians, Italian food is what they naturally cook at home, and maybe the only thing they are able and equipped to cook. These are potentially two very different things!

With many cuisines, we see a set of iconic dishes that become famous around the world through some kind of selection (like Pad Thai, Chicken Vindaloo, Salmon Teriyaki). Despite helping to make those cuisines accessible to many, these dishes are really just a small sample of the foods originating in their native regions. Eva and I argue that the (often ill-formed) quest for “the original” or “the authentic” version of these recipes may contribute to weeding out all variations of those dishes except for their dominant ones. This is probably why abroad there tends to be only one kind of Tiramisu (the coffee/cocoa one), whereas in Italy important spin-offs happily co-exist.

Join us in this episode to hear more about the true cuisine of Italy by going over some unexpected Italian dishes, such as Mostarda, Bagna Cauda, Prosciutto and Cantaloupe, as well as evidence of many dishes sometimes labeled as “non-authentic” that are eaten daily all around the Peninsula, like Spaghetti alla Bolognese, Gnocchi al Pesto, Lasagne al Pesto, Carbonara with Pancetta, and Strawberry Tiramisu.

Finally, Eva describes her experience with the Polish cuisine of her grandmother and her encounter with Blueberry Pierogi, a sweet variation of the iconic potato dumpling that is equally unexpected outside of Poland.

You can learn more about Eva by visiting her website Electric Blue Food. You can also follow her on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. Please also check out Eva’s interview in episode 87!

Listen now!
   

Italian Words Gone Wrong – 6 Mistakes Native Italians Don’t Make

For a narrated version of this article, please check out: Italian Words Gone Wrong – Mistakes on the Menu

Even though Italian food is prominent in North America as well as other English speaking countries, restaurant menus often use Italian words in ways that are not even remotely close to what would sound natural to a native Italian. And it isn’t just because of spelling mistakes, the grammatical and logical use of Italian words is also frequently incorrect.

This post started as a chat with two Twitter friends, Cecilia Razelli (@cocci_ge) and Carlo Settembrini (@csettembrini.) Cecilia found it amusing that I titled one of my articles “Formaggio Cheese,” given that she had noted a similar trend with constructs like “salsiccia sausage” and “prosciutto ham” (if you don’t see why Italians can find this amusing, keep reading!) Then Carlo joined the conversation, expanding to other types of mistakes that English speaking people make when using Italian words. We kept chatting on Twitter for a bit, then we moved the conversation to a shared Google Document, which eventually became the outline for this article. I would like to thank Cecilia and Carlo for engaging in this collaboration – literally, this post wouldn’t have happened without you!

To help illustrate the variety of errors that are commonly made when non-experienced Italian speakers use the Italian language, we grouped the mistakes according to their nature into six distinct families. So, let’s get started!

1. Spelling

When native Italians look for authentic Italian restaurants abroad, they often assess their authenticity merely on the number of spelling mistakes they can spot on the menus. Since the Italian language is mostly phonetic (i.e. written as pronounced,) there are no spelling competitions in Italy – spelling is generally not an issue over there(1)! This is why spelling mistakes stand out even more to the Italians.

Some spelling mistakes seem to reflect the way Italian words tend to be pronounced by English natives. Take ‘focaccia’ as an example: its misspelled counterpart ‘foccacia’ is gaining popularity because it’s closer to how it sounds in English. At other times, alternate English spellings appear to reflect the dialect of the first Italian-Americans. Words like ‘Cappicolla’ and ‘Macaroni,’ for instance, bear clear signs of a southern Italian heritage as opposed to their national counterparts: ‘Capicollo’ and ‘Maccheroni.’ Other words, like ‘linguini’ and ‘zucchini,’ reflect a combination of causes: their dialectal origin and the way the correctly spelled ‘linguine’ and ‘zucchine’ sound when read with an English accent.

To a native Italian, it’s bad enough to hear a misspelled word, but things get even worse when the alternate spelling has a different meaning in Italian. For instance, ‘panini’ is sometimes misspelled as ‘pannini.’ Now, while ‘panini’ is a diminutive of “pane,” which means ‘bread,’ the word ‘pannini’ is a diminutive of ‘panni,’ which is equivalent to “items of clothing” or “rags.” So now you know why a native Italian may get a giggle when they read that the chef’s special is the “house pannini.”

2. Plural vs. singular

Even when spelled correctly, Italian words may be misused in the context of a sentence because of an incorrect “grammatical number.” A classic example of this mistake is using the word ‘panini’ (which is the plural of ‘panino’) to refer to a single sandwich. It’s not clear why the plural ‘panini’ entered the English language instead of the singular ‘panino,’ although one theory is that ‘panini’ is assonant with other Italian-sounding words like ‘linguini’ and ‘zucchini.’ Regardless, a sentence like “I’d like a panini” sounds to a native Italian as wrong as “I’d like a sandwiches.” And it goes without saying that the word “paninis” doesn’t make any sense to a native Italian since it’s a double-plural. The same mistake occurs when ‘biscotti’ is used to refer to a single cookie (in Italian it’s the plural of ‘biscotto.’) The word ‘gelati’ instead is often used interchangeably with the word ‘gelato,’ when in reality it’s its plural form and should be used when referring to two or more Italian ice creams.

When using the English language, however, nobody is expected to use Italian grammar. Therefore, words like ‘paninos,’ ‘gelatos,’ and ‘pizzas’ are perfectly acceptable. In fact, Italians do the same with English words: they adopt the singular form and use it interchangeably both as singular and as plural (“un computer, due computer” = ‘one computer, two computers.’)

3. Feminine vs. masculine

In the Italian language, nouns have gender. Moreover, articles and adjectives must match the gender of the nouns they are used with. Because of this, besides knowing if nouns are plural or singular, in order to write proper Italian one must know the gender of nouns. Luckily, most of the times it’s easy to tell if a word is masculine or feminine: if it ends in ‘a’ it’s feminine; if it ends in ‘o’ it’s masculine (this for singular words, for plural words it’s ‘e’ for feminine, ‘i’ for masculine.) So, for example, because ‘pizza’ is feminine, one should say ‘pizza classica,’ not ‘pizza classico.’ And it’s ‘pasta ai gamberi,’ not ‘pasta alle gamberi.’ Consistency is important!

4. Adjective vs. noun

Many Italian dishes bear colorful names also thanks to the use of descriptive adjectives. As an example, ‘Bolognese’ means “from the city of Bologna.” When native Italians use words like ‘bolognese’ to refer to the famous kind of ragù (a generic word for meat sauce), they say “alla bolognese,” meaning “in the style of the city of Bologna.” Although it’s acceptable to say “Bolognese sauce” (“salsa bolognese,”) it doesn’t make sense to say: “I’ve had pasta with Bolognese” (leaving out the noun.) The sentence: “I’ve had Bolognese pasta” is also likely incorrect since it means “I’ve had pasta from the city of Bologna” with no reference to its sauce. Worse yet, if you order “a Bolognese” in a restaurant, it will sound like you are ordering a person from Bologna – that would be a very dubious kind of meat sauce!

Similarly, ‘Parmigiano’ or ‘Parmigiana’ means “from the city of Parma” (referred to a masculine/feminine subject respectively.) As for the famous eggplant dish, however, it’s equally correct to say “melanzane alla parmigiana” (“parmesan eggplants”) or “parmigiana di melanzane” (“parmesan of eggplants,”) the latter using ‘parmigiana’ as a noun.

And to conclude this category of mistakes, let’s not forget that the word ‘balsamic’ is an adjective, and it means “curative,” or “having the same properties of a conditioner” (‘conditioner’ = ‘balsamo’ in Italian.) It makes no sense to an Italian to use ‘balsamico’ without a noun or a pronoun. So, you can’t have anything like “I’ll have balsamic on my salad.” Balsamic what?

5. Generic vs. specific

‘Formaggio cheese,’ ‘salsiccia sausage,’ ‘prosciutto ham’ don’t make sense to a native Italian because they are redundant. ‘Formaggio’ is Italian for cheese, ‘salsiccia’ is Italian for sausage, ‘prosciutto (cotto(2))’ is Italian for ham. So, in Italy, all you are saying when you say ‘salsiccia sausage’ is “sausage sausage,” or “‘ham ham,” “cheese cheese.” We know the prospect of Italian food is exciting, but just one term will do!

As for the origin of this construct, it may come from the North American practice to use generic product names combined with specific adjectives. For instance, people say “cheddar cheese,” or “tuna fish,” when really ‘cheddar’ or ‘tuna’ can’t be anything other than ‘cheese’ and ‘fish’ respectively.

Interestingly, however, ‘gelato ice cream’ is technically correct since gelato is not exactly Italian for ice cream: it’s a particular kind of ice cream (denser, less sweet, and less fat.) Because of this, it may be justifiable to use ‘gelato ice cream’ as a marketing strategy to indicate a specialty product (likely to be sold at a higher price.)

Also technically correct is ‘espresso coffee’ since ‘espresso’ is indeed descriptive of a distinct kind of coffee extraction. In Italian coffee bars, however, people just call it ‘espresso,’ or even simply ‘coffee’ since the coffee sold in coffee bars is almost exclusively espresso. When ordering a coffee, Italians also often shorten the name when they order an espresso variation, which comes with its own descriptive adjective. Examples are ‘corto’ (short), ‘macchiato’ (stained or spotted with steamed milk,) ‘corretto’ (corrected with liquors or spirits,) etc. Sometimes they even leave out the noun altogether and order directly a ‘macchiato,’ which ironically also happens in North America.

The construct: ‘ricotta cheese,’ instead, is completely wrong since ricotta is technically not even cheese (being it made from whey, and therefore considered just a dairy product, or ‘latticino’ in Italian.)

In the Italian language, the following are generic names as well:

  • ‘Panino’ is the generic name for ‘bread roll’ or ‘sandwich,’ whether grilled or not.
  • ‘Biscotto’ is the generic name for ‘cookie,’ though Italian cookies tend to be crunchy, rather than chewy.
  • ‘Antipasto’ is the generic translation of ‘appetizer.’ Not a particular kind of appetizer made of pickled vegetables, olives, and often tuna, or (worse) this “invention” from Kraft.
  • ‘Latte’ is the generic name for milk, cold milk to be precise – which is what you would get if you ordered a ‘latte’ in Italy. The proper name for the espresso-based drink is ‘latte macchiato’ (steamed milk stained or spotted with coffee.)

6. Food vs. preparation

To end the list of mistake families, we can’t leave out one of the most mysterious ones exemplified by the Italian-American dish called Shrimp Scampi. Scampi, plural of scampo, is a crustacean similar to a small lobster. For some reason, it also became the name of a preparation (based on tomato, garlic, and white wine) that is generally used for shrimp and other crustaceans. But if “Shrimp Scampi” makes no sense to a native Italian because it’s essentially “Shrimp Shrimp,” Olive Garden’s Chicken Scampi makes even less sense, since it’s like saying “Chicken Shrimp.”

Sometimes Shrimp Scampi is instead used to refer to a crustacean, possibly just to make a dish sound more mysterious, or “elevated,” and definitely more “Italian.” Dishes like “Linguine with Shrimp Scampi” from “Barefoot Contessa” Ina Garten are a clear indication of how mainstream this misconception has gone. It goes without saying that actual Scampi are nowhere in the ingredients.

To make matters worse, dictionaries such as the Merriam-Webster define ‘scampi’ as “a usually large shrimp; also: a large shrimp prepared with a garlic-flavored sauce,” also reporting ‘scampi’ as a singular noun with an invariant plural form. Fortunately, heroic bloggers like my friend Frank Fariello set the record straight by correctly explaining the naming issue behind this dish.

To end the category and this article, ‘Calamari’ is another example where non-native Italians may confuse an ingredient with its preparation. Whereas in Italian it generically means ‘squid,’ outside of Italy, and especially in North America, it refers to its deep-fried ring-shaped slices.


(1) In some regions of Italy, Italians make certain kinds of spelling mistakes due to how words sound in their dialects. As an example, those who speak a Venetian dialect tend to drop double consonants. In southern Italy, instead, double consonants tend to be added where they don’t belong (e.g. Carabbinieri instead of Carabinieri.)

(2) In Italy, there are two kinds of prosciutto: ‘cotto’ (“cooked” similar to ham) and ‘crudo’ (“raw, cured.”)

Squash Risotto, a Comfort Dish for Winter

Squash risotto (or risotto con la zucca), is a traditional risotto common in all northern Italy. The squash gives an especially mealy texture, and a sweeter flavor to it, along of course with a beautiful orange color. But what is squash, exactly?

Along with melon, watermelon, cucumber, zucchini, pumpkin, and gourd, squash belongs to a plant family called cucurbitaceae. Even though they’re all fruits, with the exception of melon and watermelon, the cucurbitaceae are used as vegetables. There are two kinds of squash: summer squash (e.g.: zucchini, straightneck squash), harvested as they ripen in the summer, and winter squash (e.g.: acorn squash, butternut squash, spaghetti squash), harvested in fall, when they are fully mature, their seeds have dried out, and their skin has hardened. Winter squashes have historically played a significant role in the kitchen because they can keep for several months (lasting well through winter) and because when cooked they develop an agreeable flavor, and a starchy, mealy texture similar to sweet potatoes*. Out of the various kinds of winter squash, the sub-family called ‘cucurbita maxima’ is particularly notable because of its size. In Italy, it’s generally called zucca gialla o dolce (yellow or sweet pumpkin), an example of which is the zucca mantovana (Mantua’s pumpkin) used to make the renowned tortelli con la zucca (pumpkin tortelli). In North America, cucurbita maxima includes several common squashes: hubbard, turban, kabocha, buttercup, and banana squash. Banana squash is especially suitable for this recipe because of its moderate sweetness and firm texture.

*Harold McGee. On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen. 2nd edition (2004)

Squash Risotto, a Dish for Winter

Yield: 2 servings

Total Time: 25 minutes

Prep Time: 10 minutes

Cook Time: 15 minutes

Squash Risotto, a Dish for Winter

Ingredients

  • 250 g winter squash (e.g. banana squash)
  • ¼ white onion, sliced
  • 1 tablespoon of butter, olive oil, or a mix of the two
  • 2/3 cup Arborio rice
  • 2 ½ cups vegetable stock
  • ½ glass white wine, at room temperature
  • 20 g Parmigiano, grated
  • Salt and black pepper

Preparation

  1. Finely chop onion and dice the squash.
  2. Bring the vegetable stock to a simmer in a small pan.
  3. In a larger pan, roast the onion in butter, oil, or a mix of the two until translucent, then add the squash.
  4. Season with salt and cook until the squash is soft. Put a couple of tablespoons of it aside and keep warm, mash the rest with a ricer (or in the blender).
  5. In the pan where the squash was roasted, add a bit more butter or oil, then toast the rice for a couple of minutes at medium heat until translucent. Add the white wine and stir until it fully evaporates.
  6. Add the mashed squash and stir in the stock, one ladle at a time, allowing it to be absorbed before adding more stock.
  7. Continue stirring and adding stock ensuring that the risotto and the stock continue boiling gently throughout the process.
  8. After 15 minutes of cooking, at a time when the risotto is quite moist, remove it from the heat, stir in the Parmigiano, and let it rest for a minute.
  9. Serve the risotto in bowls and decorate with the cooked squash and a sprinkle of black pepper.
https://www.disgracesonthemenu.com/2016/01/squash-risotto.html

 

[Thoughts on the Table Transcript] Frank Fariello from Memorie di Angelina

Back in March 2014, I had the pleasure of having Frank Fariello (Memorie di Angelina) on a podcast. In the episode, we discussed the differences between Italian-American cooking and the food of Italy, a topic on which Frank is remarkably insightful, being a third generation Italian-American who lived in Rome for 10 years.

This post presents the same interview in textual form as an enjoyable read, and as a searchable reference.

 

Listen to the original episode

 

Paolo Rigiroli
Hello, and welcome to the audioblog. Paolo here again for another episode. Today I have a special guest with me, Frank Fariello from the fantastic blog, Memorie di Angelina. Hi, Frank. Good morning.
Frank Fariello
Hey Paolo, how are you doing?
Paolo Rigiroli
Good. Thanks so much for accepting to connect with me. It’s an honor.
Frank Fariello
Oh, it’s my pleasure.
Paolo Rigiroli
Frank accepted to be interviewed, and I have prepared a lot of questions. I’m sure, like me, you’ll be very interested to know his answers. We want to know a lot more about you, Frank.
Frank Fariello
Uh oh…
Paolo Rigiroli
So let’s start from, of course, from you. Do you want to introduce yourself to our listeners?
Frank Fariello
Sure, why not? My name is Frank, as you know. I’ve got an Italian last name, Fariello. I am from New York originally. I was born in New York City actually, but lived in the suburban part of New York for most of my childhood. I am a lawyer by training and by profession, and still continue to practice law, but I’ve spent a great deal of my adult life outside of the United States. I actually took some time off [from the profession]. I was thinking about leaving the law at a certain point in my life. I had about ten years under my belt as a corporate lawyer in New York and was kind of tired of the rat race.
Paolo Rigiroli
I see.
Frank Fariello
So I took some time off. I was thinking about becoming a professional chef. Cooking has always been my passion. I went and lived for a few years in Paris. There are great hotel schools, as you probably know, in Switzerland, in the French speaking part of the country. So my plan was to go to France, perfect my French, and then go on to [the Hotel School in] Lausanne. As you know, that was [where] one of the great Italian chefs of the time… a Milanese, named Gualtiero Marchesi [had been trained].
Paolo Rigiroli
Oh yeah, of course. Super famous.
Frank Fariello
Do remember him? Very famous. A little bit controversial, I understand, among some Italians. They called him “Il Francese” because he had a certain different way of approaching Italian cooking, but I had studied his work and found him quite inspiring. I knew that he had gone to Lausanne, to the [hotel] school there and wanted to kind of follow in his footsteps.
Frank Fariello
In any event, [I never made it to Lausanne.] I was [in Paris] for a couple years, then lived in Vienna for a couple more years. At that point, I had returned to the practice of law. Some old colleagues from New York had convinced me to get back into the profession, and they were based in Vienna and Moscow, so I was doing some work there. Then, in about 1995, so this is going back a few years, I saw an ad in the paper for an international organization based on Rome. Of course, I’m an international lawyer by trade, [but my practice had been in private international law]. I had always been interested in [practicing public international law] in an international organization. I applied [for the job] and “only” 9 months later, I was hired. I went down there and spent 10 years living in Rome.
Paolo Rigiroli
In Rome, in the city.
Frank Fariello
Yeah. That was a fantastic thing. I had always kind of wanted to… It sounds like a cliché of course, but wanted to sort of discover my roots. Actually, my roots are not in Rome, they’re farther south in Campania and Puglia. But still, it was a great opportunity. So I took it.
Paolo Rigiroli
Very interesting that you were at one point pursuing the career of becoming a chef, and considered changing [job] entirely. You know, it takes a lot of courage to do that. I’m not surprised that you were pulled back…
Frank Fariello
Yeah, well it takes a lot of courage, and maybe that’s why I didn’t do it ultimately!
Paolo Rigiroli
Yeah, but you did do something else. You started writing this blog that has become the most popular blog about Italian food today. So it is a fantastic achievement, and it obviously speaks to the quality of your work. I’m not surprised to see that your interest went as far as to bring you to Paris. So that really makes a lot of sense now.
Frank Fariello
Yeah. Thanks. Yeah, it is a great… That’s one of the great things about the blog. It allows me to enjoy the [culinary] world without, of course, the back breaking work and the horrendous hours of actually being a restaurateur.
Paolo Rigiroli
I see. Well, I’m sure it takes up a lot of time anyway, but certainly it is a different activity. Yes, I can see that. So when did you start Memorie di Angelina?
Frank Fariello
Well, it actually started out when I joined Facebook.
Paolo Rigiroli
Oh.
Frank Fariello
I didn’t set out to be a blogger, to be honest. I joined Facebook and, like a lot of people on Facebook, I started discovering old friends from high school and college and law school and all the rest of it. I decided I wanted to share some recipes with my friends, so I started posting recipes to my profile. That was a lot of fun and people were enjoying the recipes, but I was frustrated by the platform. It wasn’t really as flexible as I wanted it to be, so I cast around [for ideas] and decided to start a blog. Just for my friends, initially. That was the only ambition I had was to continue sharing those recipes, but to do it in a way that was easier to get the point across. And… the rest is history. The blog got some attention and, next thing I know, 5 years later I’m still blogging!
Paolo Rigiroli
Yes, and thank you for that. It’s a great resource for me as a cook, and of course a great point of reference (that I often quote) to talk about what I talk about, which is authenticity and Italian food of Italy today, which is something that has become sort of my battle – so to speak – to try and fix Italian food in North America. As you know, my battle is against the type of Italian-American food that is not advertised as such. I have respect for Italian-American cuisine, but I really think it should be called for what it is. I’m all for certification as well to try and, whenever possible, certify Italian food – continental Italian food of Italy today – as such. And I applaud any kind of certification like Pizza Verace, which is a great association based in Naples that certifies around the world, and Tuscanicious, which by the way you were just recently awarded. Congratulations.
Frank Fariello
Yes. Well thank you. That was a tremendous honor for me. It’s a great validation of the work I’m doing… My blog is about Italian cooking of all kinds, not really focused on Tuscan cooking in particular, so the award was, in a sense, a surprise. But a wonderful one.
Paolo Rigiroli
Yeah, it is a great honor, and you deserve so much. So yeah, authenticity is important, but I also find that many of those self-proclaimed Italian restaurants simply serve food that is just plain bad food. That is really sad to me. I really think that there is such thing as good food and bad food in general, and in fact a lot of my friends who actually have been to Italy told me that they really liked the real Italian food so much better. Which may signify that there is an absolute value to flavor. I don’t know how you feel about that.
Frank Fariello
I certainly agree. All kinds of cooking can be good, and I enjoy all different kinds of cooking. But I firmly believe there is such a thing as good food and bad food. Even as a kid, I remember comparing the Italian food that you might have in a restaurant with the food that my grandmother made, and I knew liked my grandmother’s food a lot better! To some extent, Italian food is a victim of its own popularity. And unfortunately restaurateurs-some of them who should know better, others who perhaps don’t-take advantage of that popularity to frankly make a buck on the cheap. I hate to put it that harshly, but I think in some cases that’s what it is.
Paolo Rigiroli
It’s marketing.
Frank Fariello
Yeah.
Paolo Rigiroli
Following a popular trend. When you say “Italian,” it seems to sell more. Right now they’re starting to say “Tuscan” or you know, “Sicilian,” trying to go down to the region which makes it [sound] even more authentic.
Frank Fariello
Yes, indeed. I don’t know if you know Nicoletta Tavella – she’s a fellow blogger. She also has a cooking school in Amsterdam, and I heard an interview with her with an Italian radio or TV… I can’t remember which. She was talking about some of the funny products that they sell in Holland, like “Tuscan pesto”, whatever that might be! So this is not just North America where this kind of thing happens. As you say, “Tuscan” has that caché. Never mind that there is no such thing as Tuscan pesto. But anyway…
Paolo Rigiroli
So Frank, speaking of authentic food, I would like to go back a little bit to your grandmother. Because you’re a third generation Italian-American, but yet you seem to have such a precise image of Italian food. Yours is not distorted at all. I’m Italian born and raised there. I spent my first 30 years there. I read you… I really cannot detect any difference in how I would describe it. You just describe it better than I would. It’s true.
Frank Fariello
That’s very kind of you to say. I think I have two advantages maybe over other Americans or other foreigners who are pursuing [the study of Italian cuisine]. One is I actually grew up with Italian cooking. My grandmother is the reason why my blog is called the way it is. It’s a tribute to her, because she really imprinted those flavors on my palate, if I can put it that way.
Paolo Rigiroli
That’s a good way [to put it].
Frank Fariello
At a very tender age, it’s so natural. She was special because she did not [compromise on authenticity]. Of course, she was first generation, and there’s a big difference as the generations proceed, in terms of assimilation and adaptation. She made her dishes just as she learned them growing up in Italy, in that small town in Campania. I verified that when I went to Italy and ate those same dishes, some of which I didn’t realize existed outside of my grandmother’s kitchen, by the way. I was almost shocked to see them on menus, in store windows. I remember once, it was around Christmas time, and we went down to the Amalfi coast for a vacation to get away from Rome for a bit, and I looked in a pastry shop window and found my grandmother’s honey balls: Truffoli! I had no idea they actually existed other than as an invention my grandmother had made. But she recreated all of those things, and quite well, I think, given what she had to work with. Of course she had to make some compromises, because not all ingredients were available in the US, especially back in those days. The other thing, of course, is that I spent 10 years living in Italy. That’s irreplaceable, too.
Paolo Rigiroli
Yes.
Frank Fariello
You know, getting to know Italian cooking, especially Rome because that’s where I was. But I liked to travel a lot, all throughout the country. And being a foodie, the first thing I wanted to do was try the local dishes. I used to ask people, “What should I try?” and “How do you make this?” And I’m an avid collector of cookbooks.
Paolo Rigiroli
Oh, I see.
Frank Fariello
Anywhere I went, I always bought a little local cookbook to find out what the local dishes were and try to recreate them when I get home and all of that.
Paolo Rigiroli
Yeah, and I love how you put these cookbooks as reference in your blog posts whenever you can, because… you can quote them, and use the collective knowledge that they accumulated into themselves. So we were talking about adaptation and the fact that Italian food sometimes, as generations go by, changes. Evolves. Why do you think this is happening? Is it a matter of adapting to the local palate, or is it more the fact that the ingredients are not available, or that the ingredients are different?
Frank Fariello
That’s a good question. I think originally, of course, it was about availability of ingredients. I think if you look at first generation, Italian Americans in particular, that was a big thing. [And then some differences reflect an expression of the diaspora community.] I sometimes talk about Italian American cooking as a sort of celebration of plenty. This is immigrant cooking, so it was made by people who came from very humble backgrounds. Certainly in my family that was the case. [They celebrated] the fact that they now could afford to have meat any time they wanted. So Sunday dinners were often kind of “meat fests”: We’d have the pasta dish, dressed with Neapolitan ragu`, with sausages and beef and all these other things… And then yet another meat course would come after that, usually roast chicken or something of this kind. So it’s a lot about just kind of enjoying the fact you can afford to have all of this food that perhaps back home you couldn’t. That’s of course the first generation.
Frank Fariello
I think the second generation is a bit different. And I saw this also, by the way, in reverse when I was living in Italy. Children of immigrants put a huge premium on fitting in and assimilating, and feeling that they were part of the country they were born in. Sometimes even almost in opposition to their parents’ generation.
Paolo Rigiroli
Oh yeah.
Frank Fariello
You’ve seen this probably–
Paolo Rigiroli
I have seen this. I know a lot of Italians. They have Italian last names so I approach them in the workplace, and often they actually… reject their origins. They don’t speak Italian, pretty much by choice. Yeah. It’s strange, but in a way, it’s assimilation. It is forcing yourself to stop being typecast, because I suppose it happens.
Frank Fariello
Absolutely. I think that that goes for the cooking as well, and eating habits and the rest. You kind of, you want to be kind of more American than the Americans.
Paolo Rigiroli
Right.
Frank Fariello
Of course, when you try to go back and recreate the dishes, that’s going to have an influence. And then there’s the third generation… I’m third generation – I think there’s a bifurcation here, because there’s some, like myself, who kind of want to recapture something.
Paolo Rigiroli
Mm-hmm (affirmative).
Frank Fariello
Then there are others who just kind of keep on going and proceed with further Americanization, to the point where basically, other than the name, they are more or less indistinguishable from any other Americans.
Paolo Rigiroli
Yeah, absolutely. The problem is that some of them own a restaurant…
Frank Fariello
Yeah. Yes. That’s when things go awry!
Paolo Rigiroli
I saw this thing just yesterday. We were in this Italian café, I’m not going to say the name, and they had “Italian burgers”, okay? (You don’t see Frank, but he’s shocked!) With a side of pasta, of course (!) And I really like the place, actually. I go back there because they make really good omelettes, actually. They cook something that is not really an Italian dish, but they do it really well, and I really like them. But then they do these things… Just because they call themselves Italian, I think.
Frank Fariello
Yeah, that’s the marketing thing again. You sprinkle a little oregano on top of it or a little melted mozzarella or whatever, and suddenly it’s Italian this or that.
Paolo Rigiroli
Yeah, I know. What’s even worse is when you throw in ingredients that totally don’t fit in with a dish. You just posted today your carbonara, and you talk about cream as a common addition in North America, into carbonara. Obviously, that does not belong in the dish. It’s totally unnecessary, it changes it entirely. You know, in this case, the addition of ingredients is done in the attempt to… I don’t know, make the dish more rich. To make it more flavorful. I don’t know. What do you think?
Frank Fariello
Well… I think that’s often very true, and I agree about the cream. I think it actually, if anything, takes flavor away. But yeah, it’s probably meant to make the dish richer and more [appealing]. Again, this celebration of plenty that I talk about, and it can go a bit too far. It becomes almost an overdoing- extravagant. That’s true for example, in the use of herbs and spices and so on, which in fact is, as of course you know very well, not at all typical of good Italian cooking. Just the opposite. It’s all about discretion and balance.
Paolo Rigiroli
And balance. And I think, you know, the problem probably is that the fewer ingredients you have, the more they have to be right. They have to be flavorful, and they have to have the correct flavor. So maybe I’m thinking it could be that sometimes one adds more ingredients to try and compensate for the lack of flavor of local produce, which… wasn’t grown in the same sunny lands of Italy. I’m thinking tomatoes, as an example.
Frank Fariello
That’s the classic example, of course. It’s the bane of any Italians I talk to who come to the States, and I’m sure Canada is the same way… They always ask me: “Where are the good tomatoes?” It’s an endless search. Of course, you can find them if you go to a farmer’s market, but you have to really make an effort. The great thing about Italy is any old supermarket will offer you wonderful produce. Of course, it’s even better if you’re growing your own… I was very lucky because although I spent most of my stay in downtown Rome, for the last three years, we lived outside of town.
Paolo Rigiroli
I see.
Frank Fariello
In a kind of a rural area. I grew my own vegetables, my own tomatoes, my own zucchine. We even had hens, a hen house, and we got the eggs. If you’ve ever eaten eggs right from the hen, it’s just something incredible.
Paolo Rigiroli
And I have. My grandmother had eggs from her chickens. You’re right. It was incredible.
Frank Fariello
And we had peach trees, too. The peaches off the tree were something else. Of course, if you have a peach like that that’s dripping and sweet and lovely, you don’t need sugar on it. You don’t need anything on it. It’s just beautiful the way it is. I think you’re quite correct about how best quality ingredients makes lots of different extraneous flavors unnecessary. But if you don’t have that kind of quality ingredients, then of course, the temptation is to make up for it in other ways.
Paolo Rigiroli
Yeah. I can see that. Frank, I wanted to also talk a little more about you as a food blogger and the food blogging activity itself, and becoming as popular as you have become. The question that I have for you is, did popularity change you? Do you feel the pressure of having so many viewers to keep up and produce always more interesting [posts] and continue the volume of production?
Frank Fariello
Well, yes and no. I do try to blog once a week, [although lately I’ve been so busy it’s been more like once every two weeks]. I try to keep to that rhythm and not go beyond it, in part because I don’t want to raise expectations of people. In the middle of the week, or on off weeks, I will post old posts on my Facebook page. The great thing about cooking is, of course, nothing goes out of date. You can take a post from two years ago and send it out there, and people who haven’t seen it before will enjoy it. This posting schedule is realistic for me. I have a day job, like many bloggers. I kind of envy those who are dedicated full-time to the food business. That would be fantastic, but I’m not, so this is kind of a hobby for me. But I do try to stick to this schedule because I know that there are people who occasionally, if I slip, will send me messages like, “What happened? Where is this week’s installment?” Of course, I feel awfully guilty about that!
Paolo Rigiroli
I’m hungry. What happens?
Frank Fariello
Yeah. Right? But I try to keep it realistic. So you know, once a week is a realistic level [of commitment] for me.
Paolo Rigiroli
Mm-hmm (affirmative). Do you get a lot of requests? Do people ask you for a certain dish?
Frank Fariello
Yes. Yes. I do get requests from time to time. I try to put them on my list but I have a blog plan, so it can be a while until I get around to them. I’m trying to hit all the major dishes in the various regions. The vision I have for Memorie di Angelina is, more than a blog, as kind of an online cookbook.
Paolo Rigiroli
Mm-hmm (affirmative).
Frank Fariello
So I am trying to be, if not comprehensive-because that’s practically impossible when you’re talking about a subject as vast as this one-but as complete as I can make it over time. So I do have a plan that I’m following, and if a request falls well within the plan, I’ll do it. Occasionally, it’ll be a request for something that’s actually Italian-American rather than Italian. That’s the other thing.
Paolo Rigiroli
Right.
Frank Fariello
I keep those requests on the “back burner”, because once in a while, usually on Columbus Day, I do like to feature an Italian-American dish.
Paolo Rigiroli
So you have a plan. Do you think you can just go on forever, just because it’s such a vast world?
Frank Fariello
Yes. Well, forever, perhaps not. But I won’t live forever, either, unfortunately. I think it’ll be a while until I run out of [dishes to write about]. I don’t really need “ideas” in the sense that, unlike other bloggers, I don’t really try to do creative things too much. But occasionally, I’ll feature my own take on a classic dish. Dishes generally have lots of variations, especially the more famous ones, so I’ll express my preference.
Paolo Rigiroli
I see.
Frank Fariello
I bring that much of my own personality to the dish, but I try to be faithful to the classic recipes. That makes it easy in a way. I don’t feel the need to invent things.
Paolo Rigiroli
I see, I see, I see.
Frank Fariello
Of course the repertoire of Italian dishes is so enormous that it’ll be awhile until I run out of recipes.
Paolo Rigiroli
Which is really fantastic. I guess there are also many other ways to present your work. I saw you have a Flipboard, I think it’s called, now.
Frank Fariello
Yes. Yes, my Memorie di Angelina Flipboard has become quite popular. It’s really taken off, and I’m pleasantly surprised. It was kind of a lark. We had a snow day once, and I said, “Let me put one together.” And the response has been excellent.
Paolo Rigiroli
Fantastic. I saw it. It’s really nice. It’s like a digital cookbook, a recipe book. I love the format. It’s awesome. Yeah.
Frank Fariello
I’m quite pleased with it.
Paolo Rigiroli
Have you ever thought about publishing an actual book?
Frank Fariello
I get that question quite a bit. I guess my answer is I’d love to, but when would I possibly find the time? This is the thing. Again, having a day job makes it difficult. But if I ever feel like I can take a couple months off, sabbatical, maybe. Why not?
Paolo Rigiroli
Why not? Looking forward to that. I just want to end this interview – thanks so much, Frank, it was amazing, of course – with one last question about your time spent in Italy.
Frank Fariello
Mm-hmm (affirmative).
Paolo Rigiroli
If I were to ask you now, you’ve been back for a few years now, what do you miss the most?
Frank Fariello
Wow. That’s an interesting question. I guess, I mean… the food, I guess, would be one big thing. Probably the biggest, I mean, from the point of view of someone who is so obsessed with eating and food as I am. As we were talking about, the excellent quality of the raw ingredients you have to work with. It makes cooking so… In a way, almost too easy. You know?
Paolo Rigiroli
I know. I do know.
Frank Fariello
There’s so little you have to do to those ingredients to make them taste good. It’s fantastic. And beyond the food, of course the beauty of the country. And the warmth of the people. That’s a cliché, but I think it’s true. Well, Romans can be rough, too. But they’re always honest. I think the thing is that they may not always be polite, but they’re always themselves, and I appreciate that.
Paolo Rigiroli
Fantastic. Thanks, Frank. It was a great pleasure having you here. Well, we’ll keep in touch, and–
Frank Fariello
Absolutely.
Paolo Rigiroli
Maybe later on, we’ll have another chat together.
Frank Fariello
Look forward to it. Take care, now.
Paolo Rigiroli
Fantastic. Thanks so much again. Bye-bye.
Frank Fariello
Bye-bye.

[Thoughts on the Table – 2] Sweet

Jason and Paolo are back for another episode on flavor. This time, it’s all about sweetness: cultural attitudes towards it, the purpose of sugars in the diet, and the reason why desserts end the meal. Finally, as a bonus, don’t miss Paolo’s disgusted response to ice cream floats!

Listen now!
   

Gorgonzola – The Italian Blue

If you like blue cheese, but you haven’t tried Gorgonzola (), you’re going to love it. If you don’t like blue cheese, and you try Gorgonzola, you might very well start to like blue cheese! In fact, next to the traditional Piccante (pungent) variety, the milder Dolce (sweet) variety meets the palate of those who are not too fond of ‘blue’ flavors.

The characteristic pungent aroma of Gorgonzola Piccante is due to the aromatic molds that, over a 6 month aging period, grow to fully inhabit it. As the cheese ages, it becomes compact or even crumbly because of its natural loss of moisture (down to 30-40%). This transformation also intensifies the flavor.

A slice of Gorgonzola Piccante
A slice of Gorgonzola Piccante

The Dolce variety instead (shown in the feature image) is only aged 2 to 3 months: it has only partially established molds and still contains high amounts of moisture (45%). This results in a cheese that is only mildly blue, and that is also creamy and spreadable.

Both the Dolce and the Piccante varieties are made from whole cow milk, and they have similar percentages of fat (around 25-30%).

Cheese production makes use of specific kinds of molds (Penicillia) that over the centuries were discovered capable of improving the flavor and the texture of the product. We now know that these molds are aerobic fungi that produce enzymes capable of metabolizing the milk fats and proteins, therefore completely transforming the cheese. These molds are perfectly safe to eat since they don’t release any toxins and even have antibacterial properties. The antibiotic penicillin, in fact, derives from a mold that belongs to the same family.

Out of all of the different kinds of Penicillia, only two are responsible for the characteristic flavor of the countless varieties of blue cheese: Penicillium glaucum and Penicillium roqueforti. Gorgonzola is traditionally made using the former, but the latter can also be used.

A drum of Gorgonzola
For easier distribution, the drum of is generally cut into 4 pieces.

Molds are often associated with cheese, but in most kinds of cheese, they grow only on the rind. In blue cheese, instead, the mold is encouraged to grow deeply into the cheese paste. Since Penicillia need at least minimal levels of oxygen to survive, in the production of Gorgonzola, the uncooked curds are left unpressed to favor the formation of fissures and cavities through which the mold will be able to breathe. In order to get an even more uniform growth of the mold within the paste, when the cheese is 3-4 weeks old, the rind is perforated deeply with metal needles. The mold ends up thriving on the walls of the holes, forming the characteristic green veining. In Italian, this process is called Erborinatura from the word ‘erburin’, which means ‘parsley‘ in northern Italian dialect, in reference to the similarly green color.

Origins

The exact origins of Gorgonzola are unknown, but they certainly revolve around a city that bears the same name, 15 km East of Milan, in the core of Lombardy.

Location of Gorgonzola in Italy
Milan (green dot) and Gorgonzola (red dot) in the region Lombardy.

As early as in the 9th century, Lombardy was known for the production of a soft cheese called stracchino(1). There is evidence that the stracchino made around the town of Gorgonzola developed special characteristics that made it unique – likely it was contaminated with a particular mold which is naturally present in the caves where the cheese was ripened. The “stracchino of Gorgonzola” started being appreciated as a different kind of cheese, a delicacy that then became known in all of northern Italy.

Over time, the production of Gorgonzola expanded to other parts of Lombardy, but the city of Gorgonzola maintained its prestige until the middle of the 19th century. In 1840 writer Luigi Cattaneo wrote in his Milanese publication: Il Politecnico that “while the cheesemakers of the town of Gorgonzola kept the secret of the peculiar circumstances that make this cheese special, this cheese remained their almost exclusive privilege. But nowadays this cheese is produced in several other locations in Lombardy with the same good success, although the one that is made in the surroundings of Gorgonzola maintains higher commercial regard.”(2)

Since 1970, the production of Gorgonzola is regulated by its Consortium, and it’s limited to specific areas of Lombardy and Piedmont, as stipulated by its designation of Protected Geographical Status.

Uses

Gorgonzola and mascarpone "cake".
Gorgonzola and mascarpone “cake”.

Gorgonzola is commonly eaten by itself, usually spread on bread. The aged variety (Piccante) is sometimes paired with honey to counterbalance its intense body. For those who prefer more delicate flavors, a modern preparation exists that is even milder than Gorgonzola Dolce: a “cake” made by layering sweet Gorgonzola with mascarpone.

Gorgonzola is also widely used in cooking. The main examples see it used:

  • as a sauce for pasta or gnocchi, sometimes with the addition of walnuts;
  • in risotto, simply added when the rice is nearly cooked;
  • on pizza, alone or as one of the 4 kinds of cheese in quattro formaggi;
  • with polenta, especially baked in layers.
Gorgonzola Piccante with chestnut honey.
Gorgonzola Piccante with chestnut honey.
Pasta with Gorgonzola.
Pasta with Gorgonzola.

The wine pairings of Gorgonzola are somewhat difficult and a source of lengthy debates. There seems to be consensus, however, that the Dolce variety goes with fruity wines (Riesling, Pinot bianco, various novelli). The Piccante variety, instead, needs a stronger, sweeter wine, even fortified: various kinds of passito, as well as Port and Marsala. All agree that Gorgonzola goes well with beer, especially the Trappist kind.

Notes

1) Stracchino is a fat cheese whose name derives from the word “stracco” (“tired” in Milanese dialect), in reference to the fact that it was made with the milk of cows that were “tired” because of having just returned to the valley after spending the summer on higher pastures.
2) Luigi Cattaneo, On the way to produce the fat cheese called Stracchino of Gorgonzola, Il Politecnico 3 (1840), p. 309-322.

Addendum – Bloggers Recipes (from comments)

Thanks to my friend bloggers who accepted my invitation to share their best Gorgonzola recipes! Here is a clickable list compiled from their comments. Enjoy!

Simona (Briciole)

Roz (La Bella Vita)

Manu (Manu’s Menu)

Frank Fariello (Memorie di Angelina)

Pola (An Italian Cooking in the Midwest)

And my own:

Pasticcini, Italian Fine Pastries

Pasticcini are exquisite Italian fine pastries which have been perfected over the centuries to achieve the best flavors, textures, and fragrances. In the Italian tradition, assorted pasticcini are served as a dessert, as a treat to accompany coffee, tea, or hot chocolate, or as a cake alternative for celebrations and other special occasions (in which case they are usually accompanied with ‘spumante’, the Italian sparkling wine).

The word ‘pasticcino’ is a diminutive of ‘pasticcio’, which in turn derives from Vulgar Latin pasticium, a dish made by mixing various ingredients, mostly wrapped in dough (‘pasta’).

A pastry shop display
A pastry shop display.

Pasticcini can be found in two sizes: standard (2-3″ in diameter) and mignon (1-2″). The latter has become increasingly popular thanks to its sampling size, a definite plus, given the great variety of pasticcini.

Since fine pastries are difficult and time-consuming to make at home (especially if a variety of kinds is desired), Italians prefer to buy them fresh in a ‘pasticceria’ (pastry shop). Although some bakeries also sell pasticcini, most pastry shops are independent specialized stores, have extended opening hours (they’re often open on Sunday mornings, for any last minute pastry pickup), and sometimes even double as coffee bars.

A small tray of paste da tè: chocolate and pistachio shortbreads, and'Baci di Dama' (Ladies' Kisses), a traditional Piedmontese cookie made of two crumbly hazelnut or almond halves held together with a layer of dark chocolate.
A small tray of paste da tè: chocolate and pistachio shortbreads, and ‘Baci di Dama’ (Ladies’ Kisses), a traditional Piedmontese cookie made of two crumbly hazelnut or almond halves held together with a layer of dark chocolate.

Along with pasticcini, pasticcerie often also sell shortbreads and other kinds of cookies and dry pastries. Those, however, are called ‘paste da tè’ (tea pastries) and are considered a distinct product. Nevertheless, pasticcini and paste da tè are often served side-by-side to appeal to every palate.

The Italians are traditionalists when it comes to food, and pasticcini are no exception. As an interesting consequence, it’s on traditional pasticcini that most pastry chefs showcase their best techniques. Every pastry chef needs to know how to execute them flawlessly since it is on them that they are evaluated by their customers.

There are several kinds of traditional pasticcini. Some are available all throughout Italy, some are exclusively regional, and some are only made during particular times of the year. The following can be found nationwide (although some have strong regional origins).

Cannoncini (cream horns). Among the most popular pasticcini. Made with a baked horn of puff pastry (‘pasta sfoglia’), generally filled with pastry cream (‘crema pasticcera’), which may be chocolate or hazelnut flavored. They are not to be confused with ‘cannoli’ (see below), although they sound similar because both of their names derive from ‘canna’ (reed), which they resemble.

Bigné (cream puffs). Also extremely popular. Made with choux pastry filled with pastry cream (vanilla, chocolate, coffee or hazelnut flavored), with Chantilly cream (vanilla-flavored whipped cream), or with zabaione.

Sfogliatelle Napoletane. Made of a shell similar to the Greek phyllo dough and filled with ricotta and candied peel. Originally from Naples.

Crostatine alla frutta (fruit tarts). A base of baked shortbread, with a layer of custard, topped with fresh fruit, often covered with gelatin.

Crostatine con Marron Glacé (Marron Glacé tarts).

Babà. A spongy cake dipped in sugar water and rum. Also traditional to Naples, though with Polish origins.

Cigni (swans). Bigné which have been cut in half and filled with pastry cream (on the bottom) and whipped cream (on the top). A small squiggle of puff pastry is then applied on the bigné to form the neck and head of a swan.

Cannoli. Made of a fried shell, with a ricotta-based filling and flavored with candied citrus peel or chocolate chips. Originally from Sicily.

Fiamme (flames). Drop-shaped mousse (thick foams, generally chocolate-based), on a wafer or a shortbread base, usually covered in chocolate.

Tronchetti (small trunks). Rolls of sponge cake and mousse, which are then sliced in cylindrical sections.

Tartufi al cioccolato (chocolate trouffles). Chocolate and coffee ganache covered in cocoa powder.

Mini strudel. A small version of the Austrian/German strudel, a kind of pastry filled with apples, raisins, and pine nuts.

Cassatine Siciliane. A small version of the Cassata Siciliana cake, a dessert made with sweet ricotta, sponge cake, almond paste, and candied fruit. Originally from Sicily.

Chiavi di Violino (treble clefs). Liqueur-drizzled sponge cake layered with cream, covered in dark chocolate and decorated with a treble clef made of white chocolate.

Diplomatici. Layered puff pastry, sponge cake, and custard, which is then cut in squares and sprinkled with confectioner’s sugar.

Meringhe(1). Two crisp meringues enclosing a heart of whipped cream.

A basket of pasticcini (2-3 mignon per person) is also a common hostess gift.
A basket of pasticcini (2-3 mignon per person) is also a common hostess gift.

(1) Contributed by Simona.

Summer Minestra

For a summer meal, soup is probably not the first thing that comes to mind. But it’s in the summer that we have the best local vegetables and that the body needs fewer calories and more hydration. A soup can actually make for a great summer dish, especially if served lukewarm.

This recipe is for a ‘minestra di verdure’, a soup of unstrained vegetables (and legumes), which can optionally contain pasta or rice. The well known ‘minestrone’ is just a kind of minestra, usually richer and thicker. In a ‘passato di verdura‘, instead, the vegetables are strained after cooking, either by hand or by using a food mill. The term ‘zuppa’ generically refers to any kind of soup, including broths.

Soups are considered by many as the simplest dishes to make, but making a good soup is not trivial. The ingredients have to be balanced, bringing the right amounts of sweet, salty and sour to the dish, and the right amount of fats. In a minestra, the texture and the appearance are also important – the ingredients need to remain distinct despite the prolonged cooking necessary for the flavor to develop.

Italian soups are sometimes served with a sprinkle of Parmigiano, or with a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil, and they may be accompanied by ‘crostini di pane’ (bread croutons).

Minestre can be made of countless vegetables and legumes combinations. Here is the recipe for the minestra in the picture above.

Summer Minestra

Yield: 4 servings

Total Time: 2 hours, 20 minutes

Prep Time: 20 minutes

Cook Time: 2 hours

Summer Minestra

Ingredients

  • 1 Tbsp olive oil
  • ½ onion, sliced
  • 1 carrot, finely diced
  • 2 sticks celery, finely diced
  • 3 or 4 leaves kale, coarsely sliced (a good replacement for 'cavolo nero')
  • 3 or 4 leaves cabbage, coarsely sliced
  • 2 small potatoes, diced
  • 3 Roma tomatoes, diced
  • 4 cups water
  • salt and pepper
  • 4 slices of hard crust bread, toasted and sliced

Preparation

  1. Stir fry the onion, carrot and the celery in olive oil at medium heat for 10 minutes until tender.
  2. Add the water, the kale, the cabbage, the potatoes and the tomatoes. Bring to a boil, then cover with a lid and lower the heat.
  3. Cook for a couple of hours, stirring from time to time. Ensure that the minestra simmers slowly and doesn't over-boil.
  4. Adjust salt and pepper to taste.
  5. Serve with bread croutons and a drizzle of olive oil (optional).

Notes

For a more filling minestra, 10-15 minutes before it's ready, add 80 grams (3 oz) of rice or small pasta (ditalini, quadretti, stelline, avemarie or regular spaghetti cut in small pieces) and ensure a steady boil.

https://www.disgracesonthemenu.com/2012/05/summer-minestra.html

 

Amaretti and Amaretto

Amaretti cookies and Amaretto liqueur are both well known in Italy and have been gaining popularity worldwide. The word ‘amaretto’ comes from the Italian ‘amaro’ (bitter) in reference to the sharp flavor of bitter almonds or apricot kernels. Despite the name, both products are predominantly sweet, and their bitterness only enhances the depth of flavor. Amaretti cookies are a treat to eat on their own, or they are used as an ingredient in desserts and even in some savory dishes. The Amaretto liqueur is a classic accompaniment to coffee at the end of a meal or used in cocktails, long drinks, and to flavor hot chocolate. This article considers both the cookie and the liqueur, starting from their key ingredients: bitter almonds or their close relatives, apricot kernels.

Bitter almonds differ from sweet almonds far more than in bitterness. Sweet almonds were born as a natural mutation of bitter almonds lacking amygdalin, a compound that is found in the kernels of many stone-fruits (apricots and peaches included). When such kernels are crushed, the amygdalin breaks down into glucose, the aromatic benzaldehyde (which is responsible for the sharp almond flavor), and the highly toxic hydrogen cyanide (HCN). Each bitter almond may contain an average of 6 mg of HCN, which, incidentally, is far more than the amount of HCN found in the smoke of one cigarette (0.01 to 0.4 mg) and which can seriously harm an adult.

Benzaldehyde

When amygdalin is not present, however, benzaldehyde is also missing – sweet almonds lack a lot of the flavor of their bitter counterparts and are impractical for use in the pastry and confectionery industry. In North America, bitter almonds are strongly regulated due to the cyanide content and are not commercially available; almond flavoring (extracted from a variety of other sources) is used instead. In Europe, moderate amounts of bitter almonds as well as apricot kernels (called ‘armelline’ in Italian), are used despite their toxicity after blanching, which reduces the HCN, making them safe (in small amounts) even as an uncooked paste, e.g. to flavor marzipan.

Almonds are native to western Asia and the Middle East and adapted well to the Mediterranean climate, where they still grow naturally. Sweet almonds, possibly identified by the early farmers, have been cultivated since the early Bronze Age (3000-2000 BCE). Nowadays, according to the FAO, California is the largest producer (1.4 million tons in 2010), with Italy coming in 6th (85.500 tons), after Spain, Iran, Morocco, and Syria.

Almonds with shell, shelled almonds, and blanched almonds

The best example of the use of apricot kernels is in the almond macaroons known as amaretti, of which they constitute 10-20% in weight. The earliest written recipes for amaretti (as early as 1725) describe them as crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside, and made with egg whites, sugar, sweet and bitter almonds, and no flour. Nowadays, different kinds of amaretti exist – some that follow similar recipes, and some that also contain flour (wheat, rice, corn, or potato) for added body. Texture-wise, amaretti range from soft and mildly chewy to light and crunchy.

Ricciarelli

Amaretti vary substantially throughout the Italian territory. In Sicily, Pasta di Mandorle (almond paste) is very popular and used in many kinds of pastries. In Sardinia, well known are Sospiri, made with sweet almonds and lemon rind. In Lazio, the Amaretti of Fiuggi and of Guarcino are made of sweet and bitter almonds, egg whites, and sugar on a disc of wafer paper. Also from Lazio, the Paste Reali are a typical Christmas cookie made with sweet almonds, sugar, and baking powder. From Tuscany, soft and sugar-coated Ricciarelli are popular in all of northern Italy. In Liguria, renowned are the soft almond cookies from Sassello (on the Apennines, at the border with Piedmont), made with sweet almonds and apricot kernels. In Emilia-Romagna, well known is the Amaretto di Modena, crunchy on the outside and soft on the inside, made with sweet and bitter almonds. In Piedmont, the crunchy Amaretti di Mombaruzzo are made with sugar, egg whites, sweet almonds, and apricot kernels. In Lombardy, the soft and irregularly shaped Amaretti di Gallarate are also made with sweet almonds and apricot kernels. Also from Lombardy is the famous Amaretto di Saronno (from the homonymous town). Particularly well known is the version commercialized by D. Lazzaroni & C. called Amaretti Originali and made exclusively of sugar, apricot kernels (19%), and egg white.

Amaretti del Chiostro Autentici

Recently, a different but related company: Paolo Lazzaroni & Figli (PLF) also entered the amaretti market with Amaretti del Chiostro Autentici. PLF was founded by Paolo Lazzaroni in 1851; in 1888, his brother, Davide Lazzaroni, started “D. Lazzaroni & C.” (better known as Lazzaroni). PLF historically focused on liqueurs (especially Amaretto, see below), whereas Lazzaroni mainly produced cookies (especially amaretti), both following the original recipe that belonged to the Lazzaroni family well before both companies were founded (since 1718, according to a legend). Despite the attempt of Lazzaroni to patent their amaretti recipe, PLF was authorized to market their cookies under a different name. Amaretti del Chiostro are advertised as made of apricot kernels, sugar, and egg white.

Amaretti di Saronno are used as an ingredient in several preparations, either whole, crushed, or crumbled. Among the many desserts, particularly famous is the Piedmontese Bônet, a chocolate pudding with crumbled amaretti and rum. Also well known are Pesche Ripiene (stuffed peaches), baked half peaches filled with crushed amaretti, egg yolks, sugar, and dark chocolate. Amaretti are also featured in important savory dishes, such as Tortelli di Zucca (Lombardy), Gnocchi di Zucca e Amaretti (pumpkin and amaretti gnocchi), and Fritto Misto alla Piemontese (Piedmontese mixed fry), which consists of fried entrails and fried Amaretti di Mombaruzzo (softened in milk and breaded).

Disaronno Originale

Just like the amaretti cookies, the Amaretto liqueur is also made with bitter almonds or with apricot kernels, this time in the form of an infusion. Since alcohol is particularly effective in extracting the benzaldehyde, there is no hydrogen cyanide in the liqueur, and even no traces of nuts in it, making it safe for those who have allergies. Amaretto has nothing to do with ‘amaro‘, a distinctly bitter herbal liqueur usually had as a digestive.

Being an infusion, the Amaretto liqueur can be easily made at home. Just like for Limoncello, many Italian families make their own by soaking minced bitter almonds (and/or apricot kernels) in pure alcohol (although brandy can also be used).

The historical origin of Amaretto is unknown, but the legend goes that it was invented in Saronno in 1525. According to the tale, a young innkeeper created a concoction of almond and brandy as a gift for the painter Bernardino Luini out of gratitude for choosing her as a model for the painting dedicated to the Virgin Mary, in the city’s sanctuary. The story is also endorsed by ILLVA Saronno S.p.A., the firm that makes the world-famous “Disaronno Originale” (28% vol.), an “Italian liqueur flavored with herbs and fruits soaked in apricot kernel oil”. The company’s name is the acronym of “Industria Lombarda Liquori Vini e Affini”, literally: Lombard Factory of Liquors, Wines, and Similar goods.

Less known outside of Italy, Disaronno’s main competitor is the “Lazzaroni Amaretto” (24% vol.) by Paolo Lazzaroni & Figli (PLF), which started being produced in 1851. PLF’s Amaretto owes its “delicate almond/apricot flavor” to an infusion of crushed amaretti cookies, which were made according to the Lazzaroni family’s recipe.

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