reginelle / sesame seed cookies

March 15, 2013 | Simona

reginella à la Simona

Sicily smells of sesame seeds. Not the actual island, but the Sicily of my memory. I close my eyes, I whisper "Sicilia" and I smell toasted sesame seeds. The same thing happens if I read about Sicily: I open one of my Montalbano books and my nose smiles.

My first visit to Sicily, the summer before I turned 18, overloaded all of my senses in a joyous way: the beauty of churches and other buildings in Palermo, the sticky smell of the hot July days, the pleasant coolness of the sea, the sound of the dialect (of which I learned a few words), the taste of new foods. Of all the novelties my senses encountered, the smell of sesame seeds (semi di sesamo) is the one with highest emotional content. I had never tasted sesame seeds before, not even set my eyes on them. I only knew the name and that they were small.

First, I ate bread with the surface sprinkled with sesame seeds and I was amazed at the amount of flavor the small seeds packed. So, when I saw reginelle, cookies covered with sesame seeds, I did not need any special encouragement to pick one up (gently, to avoid seed loss) and bring it to my mouth. As each bite crumbled in my mouth, sesame seeds were scattered around. The cookie softened but retained a bit of crunch and the seeds teased my teeth into chasing them. A light swetness supported the pleasure without distracting the taste buds. One reginella was a dose of pure and simple pleasure, the memory of which lasted a long time.

I have vivid memories of other foods I tasted during that vacation, from rich gelato eaten in a soft, sweet bun, to fresh fish, from light mini cannoli to intense cheeses, but it's reginelle that feed my nostalgia. When I visited Palermo with my husband a few years ago, I carefully chose the bakery in which to purchase reginelle: I wanted the very best. A bite, stolen when hardly out of the store, sent me back to that summer of many years before, when I first discovered the pleasure these cookies provide.

brought back from Palermo

Until recently, I had never tried to bake them at home, afraid, I suspect, of taking out of the oven something so different from the original that the disappointment would be crushing. Reading again The Shape of Water by Andrea Camilleri (1994), the first of the novels that have as protagonitst police inspector Salvo Montalbano, brought me back to my first visit to Sicily and back to the yearning for reginelle, so this time I didn't skirt their calling and set about to make them. First, a note on vocabulary. In Sicilian dialect, sesame seeds are called cimino or giuggiulena. Just let this word tingle your ears: giuggiulena. It comes from from Arabic جلجلا (juljulān, "sesame").

I made several batches, trying a slightly different combination of ingredients each time, in search of the elusive bite of recognition. As I expected, none were exactly the same, and some were further from the archetype than others. The recipe I settled on is good: it makes reginelle that are a pleasure to eat and that have already made a couple of converts to their cause.

Ingredients:

200 g all-purpose flour
50 g whole-wheat pastry flour or 50 g all-purpose flour
70 g ultrafine sugar
a pinch of salt
2 g baking ammonia
40 g cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
20 g cold strutto (rendered pork fat) or 20 g cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1 large egg (possibly from pastured poultry), lightly beaten to mix white and yolk
1-2 tablespoons milk
flavoring of choice: a pinch (1/16 teaspoon) saffron powder + grated zest of 1/4 Meyer lemon; or vanilla sugar + 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract (see Notes)
plenty of sesame seeds (I used unhulled ones)

Notes:

The whole-wheat pastry flour is my way of making cookies a bit more nutricious.
I had my homemade strutto and pretty much finished it due to all the batches of reginelle I baked. It makes the cookies friabili (crumbly), but it also has a bit of a flavor and that is why I mixed it with butter. You can use all butter.
Based upon my reading, baking ammonia is the leavening agent traditionally used in reginelle. I have some I bought in Italy, where it is easy to find it in grocery stores. As you can read on this page, baking ammonia has advantages over baking powder when used in baked goods like cookies.
The recipes I read used various flavorings, from saffron powder to lemon zest to vanilla. In my first batch I used a small amount of saffron powder (1/16 teaspoon) I had and liked the result, but then I could not find more in the store and using saffron threads did not give me the same result. I then used a combination vanilla and lemon zest and was not happy, so I removed the lemon zest and used my vanilla sugar plus a bit of vanilla extract.

If using saffron powder, dissolve it in a tablespoon of warm milk.
Put flours, sugar (vanilla sugar, if using), salt, and baking ammonia in the food processor and pulse a few times to mix.
Add butter and strutto, and pulse a few times, until the mixture has the consistency of coarse meal.
Empty food processor's bowl onto your work surface.
Make a well in the center of the mounded flour and butter mixture and pour the beaten eggs into it.
Add the vanilla extract or lemon zest (whichever using) to the well.
Add 1 tablespoon of milk or the milk and saffron powder mix (if using).
Use a fork to incorporate the liquid into the solid ingredients, and then use your fingertips.
Knead lightly just until the dough comes together into a ball. Add a bit more milk, if necessary.
Shape the dough into a flat ellipse and wrap in plastic wrap. Place the dough in the refrigerator and chill while you get ready for the next phase.

shaping the dough

Take a kitchen towel, spread it on your working surface and pour some water over it, so about half of it gets wet, but there is no pool of water. Take a round cake pan and pour sesame seeds in it so you have a nice layer. Preheat the oven to 400 F (or 350 F, see below). Line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat.

Halve the dough and keep one half in the fridge. The following is how I decided to shape the reginelle and to roll them in the sesame seeds. Place dough on your working surface and pushing on its surface with the rolling pin, flatten it slightly (about 1/2 inch / 1.25 cm thick). With the bench scraper, cut strips (3/4 inch / 2 cm wide) and then cut each strip into pieces (1.5 inch / 4 cm long).

prepping the surface

Place a piece of dough on the towel and lightly roll it with the palm of your hand so its surface becomes slightly damp, then deposit it on the sesame seeds. Shake the pan so the dough rolls around and covers itself with seeds. Gently pick up the seeded piece of dough and place it on the lined baking sheet. Leave at least an inch (2.5 cm) of space all around each reginella. When you become comfortable with the process, you can work with a few pieces of dough at a time. And of course, you can come up with your own version of how to do all this.

I have read two schools of thought in terms of baking: one starts at high temperature (400 F) and then drops to lower 10 minutes after the start and one uses the same temperature (350 F) throughout. I think I prefer the result of the first version, while my husband prefers the result of the second: you can be your own judge. Either way, I follow the advice of leaving the oven door slightly ajar (1/8 inch / 3 mm) to let the ammonia escape but without letting too much heat dissipate.

If starting at 400 F, 10 minutes after the start, lower temperature to 320 F
If starting at 350 F, keep the same temperature throughout

Either way, check the reginelle after 20 minutes from the beginning and estimate the amount of time still needed. The reginelle are ready when the surface is golden. Check the bottom as well: it should be brown but not dark brown. Take the baking sheet out of the oven and move the reginelle to a rack to cool. While the first batch is baking, prepare the second batch as above.

Store reginelle in an airtight container and enjoy. You probably won't think about Sicily when you bite on one, but you should still have a pleasant, crunchy experience.

Final note: reginelle shed sesame seeds throughout their life cycle. I have been collecting them and used them for a second time: the second baking did not affect their flavor, in part, I think, because I used unhulled seeds. I will not use them a third time for reginelle, but I have already used them as toasted sesame seeds on salads.

rolling in the sesame seeds

I have not visited Porto Empedocle Vigata, where the novels are set, but years ago, I spent a month working at the Club Med Kamarina and have been to Ragusa, Vittoria and other places in the area, so I have a sense of the landscape Camilleri describes in his Montalbano novels.

It was interesting to read again the first one of the series. We meet Montalbano and see his charming human touch at work. For example, he lies about his identity to the mother of a young man he wants to question to avoid alarming her. He understands immediately that Ingegner Luparello's wife is a smart woman and the two of them develop a mutual esteem. He may be a bit rough, but his first instinct is to try and connect to the person he is dealing with.

The most memorable part of the novel is probably the improbable friendship that blossoms between Montalbano and Ingrid, a beautiful Swedish woman accidentally married to an absent Sicilian. The story moves forward to reach the solution. We never doubt that Montalbano will figure out what happened. But the process of uncovering the truth includes also making sure that innocent Ingrid is not dragged into the mud, that the Luparello widow's wish is respected, that Saro gets some money to cure his little boy, in sum, that the chaos of the world in general and of that corner of Sicily in particular, for at least a brief time, is organized in a sort of just order that allows Montalbano a few hours of quiet sleep or a long swim in the sea in front of his house in Marinella.

a cookie from the heart

In an interview (in Italian), Camilleri says (my translation of the transcription):

I wrote the first, then the second [The Terra-Cotta Dog], and said: the end. I wrote the second to better define the character, but then what happened happened.

"What happened" was that The Terra-Cotta Dog was a huge success. Nineteen years after the publication of The Shape of Water, readers around the world still wait impatiently for the next Montalbano to come out. Long live Andrea Camilleri.

This is my contribution to the 18th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I started some time ago and that I continue to host.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

This is also my contribution to the current edition of Cook the Books, hosted by Rachel of The Crispy Cook. You can find the guidelines for participating in the event here, and here is the announcement.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

reginelle

or launch the reginelle audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

cookie, sesame-seeds, Italian recipe

intervista a Marisa Churchill / interview with Marisa Churchill

April 13, 2012 | Simona

oatmeal-raisin cookies from Sweet & Skinny

Prepare a cup of tea or coffee, grab a cookie (besides oatmeal and raisins, the cookies in the photo have pieces of chocolate and of walnuts), make yourself comfortable, and read on.

On March 24, I attended the Women's PowerStrategy Conference in Marin County, CA. What I have to tell about that day won't fit into one post, so I'll start by talking about meeting Marisa Churchill, pastry chef and author of the dessert cookbook Sweet & Skinny, 100 recipes for enjoying life's sweeter side without tipping the scales. Readers of this blog know that my recipes tend to be light on both sugar and fat. That's the way I like to eat. Listening to, and then conversing with a pastry chef that challenged herself to create 100 light desserts that are generous in flavor and satisfaction, was a special treat.

Before meeting Marisa in person, I read about her career as pastry chef, her Greek heritage, and her passion for swimming. And before sitting down for a one-to-one conversation with her, I listened to her lively presentation at the conference. Marisa organized her talk around the main ingredients of desserts: butter, eggs, sugar, chocolate, cream, flour, oil. For each ingredient, she discussed lighter alternatives that do the job, provide nutritional value and/or satisfy the requirements of people with special dietary needs. An example Marisa referenced in her presentation is her Chocolate-Buttermilk Cake, in which a finely shredded red beet disappears into the batter in terms of texture leaving behind its sweetness, while creamy buttermilk and yogurt enrich the cake and keep it light. Other examples I found particularly interesting are: a lighter version of whipped cream that uses gelatin, the use of crushed pineapple as sweetener (for example, in the macaroons that conference participants tasted during lunch), and browned butter.

Marisa told the story of a particular tough challenge she faced in creating a light version of kourabiethes, traditional Greek butter cookies. When Marisa's grandmother was a young woman, the king of Greece visited her town. For the occasion, she prepared a batch of kourabiethes. Upon tasting them, the king declared them the best he'd ever eaten. In thinking how she could win the challenge, Marisa had the idea of using browned butter, which is more intensely flavored and of which therefore she could use less. Pasta with browned butter and mizythra cheese is a dish her grandmother used to prepare for her and the flavorful memory put her on the right track.

solidified browned butter

As soon as I got home that day, I made a small batch of browned butter and used some to prepare scones (more details when I write a post about them). I hereby declare that I am a convert. Marisa explains how to make browned butter and other "sweet foundations" in the first chapter of "Sweet & Skinny", which then goes on to cover, among other topics, American classics, sweet treats, and Holiday favorites.

For Marisa, creating the recipes for the book was a nice challenge at a point in her career when she was looking for one. She worked in her own kitchen to develop and perfect all the recipes, some of them taking longer than expected to obtain the desired balance of lightness without sacrificing flavor and texture (for example, this PB & J cookies). Besides the ones already referenced, two more recipes are available on this page.

My conversation with Marisa flowed easily and I can see how we could have continued chatting for a long time, as you'd expect if you bring together Greek and Italian blood over the topic of food.

I know I have readers in Greece, so I want to let them know that Marisa has been featured in the press and on television there, as you can see on her website's home page.

A few words about the cookies in the top photo. The originals are called Oatmeal-Sour Cherry Cookies (page 47) and are included in the chapter dedicated to Americal classics. The alternative use of raisins is included in the recipe, while the use of finely chopped chocolate instead of chocolate chips is my idea. The book does not show a photo of the cookies as they came out of Marisa's oven, so I don't know how my rendition fares next to them. I hope Marisa will be satisfied. During our conversation, we talked about the use of flax meal and water as egg substitute, something with which I have just started to experiment and which I used in this recipe.

Oops! I'd better bake more cookies: those are all gone.

FTC disclosure: I have purchased the copy of the book mentioned in this post. I have not and will not receive any monetary compensation for discussing the book on my blog. The views expressed in the post are my own.

Novel Food #15: zaletti (gialletti dell’Artusi I) / Artusi’s cornmeal cakes (I)

March 18, 2012 | Simona

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

It was a long, long ride. But toward evening, as we sat silent and hardly conscious of where we were — subdued into that meditative calm that comes so surely after a conversational storm — some one shouted —

"VENICE!"

And sure enough, afloat on the placid sea a league away, lay a great city, with its towers and domes and steeples drowsing in a golden mist of sunset.

Thus ends chapter 21 of Innocents Abroad (1869), Mark Twain's account of his 1867 trip to Europe and the Holy Land. "The book began as a series of travel letters written mainly for the Alta California, a San Francisco paper." In chapters 22 and 23, we see Twain exploring Venice, meditating on its present and past, and enjoying his gondola rides.

Twain approached Venice the same way I have done many times, by train. My most recent visit, however, started differently. After landing at Venice airport, I took a boat that slowly crossed the lagoon north of the city, stopping briefly in Murano on its way, and giving passengers ample time to admire the setting sun embracing the city in warm colors.

As soon as I dropped my suitcase in my lodging, I went out again. At night, Venice acquires a contemplative mood and it is easier to connect with it when the tourists have magically disappeared. Twain also discovered the magic of Venice by night:

In the glare of day, there is little poetry about Venice… But in the moonlight, her fourteen centuries of greatness fling their glories about her, and once more is she the princeliest among the nations of the earth.

I respectfully disagree with Twain's first statement, though. It may be more difficult to find the poetry of the city under glaring light and surrounded by many people, but it is possible: just step outside the fixed itineraries, go roaming around and chances are you'll find interesting and quieter corners. When I visit Venice, I usually have a rough plan of action, but mostly I let chance encounters set the agenda. I make use of the waterways very rarely, preferring to find lose my way around on foot.

Twain, on the other hand, enjoyed going around on a gondola and was fascinated by it.

The Venetian gondola is as free and graceful, in its gliding movement, as a serpent. It is twenty or thirty feet long, and is narrow and deep, like a canoe; its sharp bow and stern sweep upward from the water like the horns of a crescent with the abruptness of the curve slightly modified.

The stern of the boat is decked over and the gondolier stands there. He uses a single oar–a long blade, of course, for he stands nearly erect. A wooden peg, a foot and a half high, with two slight crooks or curves in one side of it and one in the other, projects above the starboard gunwale. Against that peg the gondolier takes a purchase with his oar, changing it at intervals to the other side of the peg or dropping it into another of the crooks, as the steering of the craft may demand — and how in the world he can back and fill, shoot straight ahead, or flirt suddenly around a corner, and make the oar stay in those insignificant notches, is a problem to me and a never diminishing matter of interest. I am afraid I study the gondolier's marvelous skill more than I do the sculptured palaces we glide among.

forcola

The "wooden peg" is called forcola: each one is a work of art, crafted to fit the individual gondoliere and hence unique, one of the approximately 280 pieces that make a gondola.

During my last visit, I arranged my plans so that I spent three nights in Venice and since I was staying in a quiet corte off Riva degli Schiavoni, every evening I walked along the wide and relatively uncrowded Riva, took in the view across to San Giorgio Maggiore, reached St. Mark's Square, passed by the Caffè Florian then crossed towards the Caffè Quadri on the other side, then retraced my steps via a different, quieter, and darker route.

And at midnight… we have lonely stretches of glittering water –of stately buildings–of blotting shadows–of weird stone faces creeping into the moonlight–of deserted bridges–of motionless boats at anchor. And over all broods that mysterious stillness, that stealthy quiet, that befits so well this old dreaming Venice.

In the windows of pastry shops in Venice, you can see zaletti, their elongated shape dusted with powdered sugar, raisins peeking out here and there with a promise of more once you take a bite. (I don't have a photo, but you can see a nice one in this post by Kathy of Food Lover's Odyssey.) Twain does not mention any food in the chapters about Venice, so I don't know if he ate any zaletti (or zaeti). These baked goods are also known as gialletti: the name reportedly refers to the yellow color (giallo) given to them by the cornmeal (farina di mais) with which they are made. My memory of zaletti is very vague, hence totally unreliable as a base for working in the kitchen, so I looked around for recipes: they are all rich in butter and sugar and I wanted something simpler.

I then checked Artusi's cookbook Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well (1891) and there I found two recipes for gialletti, the first of which uses yeast. I decided to explore this path further. None of the modern recipes I read uses yeast, relying instead on baking powder as leavening agent. However, an article on cookaround (in Italian) mentions a cookbook older than Artusi's and the recipe for zalletti alla veneziana (Venetian-style) in it uses leaven and no sugar. The book is called La nuova cucina economica and was authored by Vincenzo Agnoletti. The first edition dates to 1803 and the second, titled La nuovissima cucina economica, to 1814. At the end of my search, I felt good about my determination to make zaletti with yeast according to Artusi's recipe. I am planning to follow Agnoletti's recipe, which differs from Artusi's in several ways, for the next phase of my exploration of zaletti.

Artusi's recipe is fairly detailed but it does not provide pieces of information like the amount of water and the time for leavening and baking. I also decided to experiment using all cornmeal (from my CSA share, hence locally grown and freshly milled) and then substituting part of it with corn flour, which is more finely milled than cornmeal. The gialletti made with only cornmeal are a bit more rustic. My husband favored them, while I had a slight preference for the ones with also corn flour. The original recipe calls for half butter and half lard. I have some homemade lard, so I used a bit of it. Overall, I halved the quantities given by Artusi and obtained eight gialletti.

Ingredients:

50 g / 1 3/4 oz. all-purpose flour [as usual, I used King Arthur Flour all-purpose flour], divided into two
2 tablespoons / 30 ml of water at room temperature
1 teaspoon instant yeast
150 g / 5 1/4 oz. cornmeal [or 50 g / 1 3/4 oz. cornmeal and 100 g / 3 1/2 oz. corn flour]
1/3 cup + 2 tablespoons / 90 ml of hot water
1/2 tablespoon sugar [I used ultra-fine sugar]
1 oz. / 2 tablespoons / 30 g butter, softened [once I used 1/3 lard and 2/3 butter] (see Note at the end)
a pinch of salt
50 g / 1 3/4 oz. raisins

In a small bowl, mix half of the wheat flour, the yeast and the water at room temperature. Let it ferment until bubbly. I did it for 45 minutes. In the meantime, in another bowl mix the cornmeal, the remaining wheat flour, the sugar, and salt. Pour the hot water in the bowl, add the butter and mix well.

Add the pre-ferment to the flour mixture and knead to combine well. Add a bit of water, as needed, to make a dough that is easy to knead. Finally, add the raisins and knead a while longer to incorporate them.

Cut the dough into eight pieces and give them oblong shapes (see photo below). Place on a baking sheet lined with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper. With the back of a knife blade, make a grid on the top of each gialletto. Cover with a cloth and let leaven in a warm place (I did it for 1 1/2 hour). They will rise a bit, but not a lot, given the flour mix.

Pre-heat the oven to 350 F. Bake the gialletti for 15 minutes or so (I baked them for 16 minutes). Transfer to a rack to cool.

I enjoyed eating Artusi's gialletti with some of my homemade cheese and they also pair well with chocolate. My husband likes them au naturel.

Note: you can find the English version of the recipe in the translation of Artusi's book that I have referenced in the past. The translation shows "50 g (about 1 ounce)" of butter. Based on the original and the conversion value, 50 appears to be a typo: it should be 30. Also, the translation directs you to make a pre-ferment with half the cornmeal and the yeast. The original uses half of the wheat flour.

This is my second contribution to the 15th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I have started some time ago.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

This is also my submission for the third installment of the Abbecedario culinario d'Italia (Italian Culinary ABC), an event organized by Trattoria MuVarA that will bring us to visit all the 20 regions of Italy using the alphabet as guide. C come Chioggia is hosted by Marta of Mangiare è un po' come viaggiare. Chioggia is a town south of Venice and in our tour it represents the region Veneto.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

zaletti (gialletti dell'Artusi I)

or launch the zaletti (gialletti dell'Artusi I) audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

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cornmeal, raisins, Italian recipe

Novel Food #15: zaletti (gialletti dell'Artusi I)

Al termine del capitolo 21 de Gli innocenti all'estero (1869), l'autore, Mark Twain, arriva a Venezia nell'ambito di un viaggio in Europa e Terra Santa compiuto nel 1867. Nei due capitoli successivi, vediamo Twain esplorare Venezia, meditare sul passato e presente della città e godersi i giri in gondola.

Twain arriva a Venezia in treno, come ho fatto anch'io tante volte. Ma per la mia visita più recente sono arrivata in aereo e dall'aeroporto mi sono goduta la lenta traversata della laguna al tramonto. Appena arrivata al mio alloggio, ho lasciato la valigia e sono uscita a fare una passeggiata per Venezia di notte. Anche Twain è affascinato dalla città in versione notturna.

Quando visito Venezia ho una vaga idea di quello che voglio visitare ma per la maggior parte del tempo lascio che sia il caso a dirigere il mio cammino. Raramente uso i trasporti sull'acqua, preferendo girovagare e perdermi a piedi.

Twain, invece si muove in gondola ed è affascinato dai movimenti del gondoliere tanto da confessare di prestare più attenzione a studiare la maestria del gondoliere che ad ammirare i palazzi. (I passaggi ai quali mi riferisco sono riportati in originale nella versione inglese del post. Perdonate l'assenza della versione italiana: non ho trovato una traduzione di Twain online e a farla io non mi sento qualificata.)

forcola

Durante la mia visita recente, durata purtroppo solo un giorno, ho focalizzato la mia attenzione e la mia macchina fotografica sulla forcola. L'ispirazione mi è venuta dall'essermi trovata di fronte ad un laboratorio di remèr. Ho imparato che ogni forcola è fatta a misura del gondoliere ed è un pezzo unico nonche un'opera d'arte. Se osservate una gondola parcheggiata, potete notare che c'è un foro rettangolare dove va posizionata la forcola. Quando la gondola è a riposo, la forcola viene rimossa sia perché essendo sporgente può essere urtata e sia perché è un pezzo prezioso e non viene lasciato incustodito. Questo me lo ha spiegato un gondoliere.

Nelle vetrine di forni e pasticcerie a Venezia, tra i vari dolci in mostra, ci sono gli zaletti, dalla forma allungata e la superficie imbiancata di zucchero a velo dal quale fanno capolino acini di uvetta. (Non ho una foto ma ne potete vedere una in questo post di Kathy del blog Food Lover's Odyssey.) Twain non parla di quello che ha mangiato a Venezia quindi non so se ha assaggiato degli zaletti (o zaeti). Chiamati anche gialletti, il nome pare si riferisca al colore giallo dorato che viene loro dalla farina di mais con cui sono fatti. La mia memoria di zaletti è vaga e inaffidabile come base per prepararli e quindi ho guardato in giro alla ricerca di ricette. Quelle che ho trovato sono ricche di burro e io volevo qualcosa di semplice.

Mi sono quindi rivolta all'Artusi, nel cui libro ci sono due ricette per gialletti la prima delle quali usa il lievito di birra. Ho deciso di esplorare questa alternativa. Le ricette moderne usano tutte il lievito chimico. Un articolo su cookaround menziona un libro di cucina che precede quello di Artusi e la ricetta per zalletti alla veneziana che esso contine utilizza pasta lievitata e non contiene zucchero. Il libro si intitola La nuova cucina economica ed è opera di Vincenzo Agnoletti. La prima edizione risale al 1803 e la seconda, intitolata La nuovissima cucina economica, al 1814. Al termine della mia ricerca, sono soddisfatta della mia determinazione a preparare gli zaletti con il lievito naturale. Ho intenzione di provare a seguire la ricetta di Agnoletti, che è diversa da quella dell'Artusi, per la prossima fase della mia esplorazione degli zaletti.

La ricetta dell'Artusi (che riporto in fondo al post) è piuttosto dettagliata, ma non fornisce informazioni quali la quantità di acqua e il tempo di lievitazione e cottura. Le prime due volte ho usato tutta la farina di mais tipo fioretto che ottengo come parte della mia cassettina di granaglie (e che quindi è macinata fresca), mentre la terza volta ho sostituito una parte con della farina di mais macinata più fina (fumetto). I gialletti fatti solo con il fioretto sono un tantino più rustici e mio marito li preferisce. Io invece ho una leggera preferenza per quelli fatti anche con farina più fine. La ricetta originale usa metà strutto e metà burro. Io ho dello strutto che ho fatto e quindi ne ho usato un pochino. In totale, ho dimezzato le quantità date dall'Artusi e ho oattenuto così otto gialletti.

Ingredienti:

50 g farina di grano (medio-forte, dal momento che useremo il lievito secco o di birra)
30 ml acqua a temperatura ambiente (o tiepida)
1 cucchiaino (5 ml) lievito di birra secco istantaneo [Artusi userebbe 10 g di lievito di birra]
150 g farina di mais tipo fioretto [o 50 g di fioretto e 100 g di farina di mais fumetto]
90 ml acqua bollente
1/2 cucchiaio (7.5 ml) zucchero fine
30 g burro morbido [o 10 g strutto e 20 g burro]
un pizico di sale
50 g uvetta

In una tazza, mescolare metà della farina di grano, il lievito e l'acqua a temperatura ambiente. Lasciar fermentare fino a quando si vedono bollicine in superficie. Per me, 45 minuti. Nel frattempo, in una ciotola, mescolare la farina di mais, il resto della farina di grano, zucchero e sale. Versarci sopra l'acqua bollente e mescolare bene.

Aggiungere la pasta fermentata e impastare bene. Aggiungere poca acqua, se necessario, per ottenere un impasto che si lavora bene. Aggiungere l'uvetta e impastare fino a quando sia ben distribuita.

Tagliare l'impasto in otto pezzetti e formare dei fusi / mandorle (vedi foto in basso). Adagiarli su una lastra da forno coperta con tappetino di silicone per forno o carta da forno. Con la parte dietro di una lama di coltello, incidete una griglia sulla superficie. Coprire con un canovaccio e lasciar lievitare in luogo caldo (per me, un'ora e mezzo). I gialletti lieviteranno leggermente, ma non in modo spettacolare, dato il mix di farine.

Scaldare il forno a 175 C. Cuocere i gialletti per 15-16 minuti (Artusi dice che devono rimanere morbidi). Trasferire su una griglia e lasciar intiepidire.

I gialletti dell'Artusi accompagnano bene il mio formaggio fatto in casa e anche il cioccolato. A mio marito piacciono al naturale.

Questo è il mio secondo contributo alla 15ima edizione di Novel Food, l'evento culinario/letterario che Lisa di Champaign Taste ed io abbiamo creato qualche tempo fa.

Questo post contiene il riepilogo dell'evento.

Questo è il mio contributo all'Abbecedario culinario d'Italia, un evento organizzato dalla Trattoria MuVarA che ci porterà a visitare tutte le regioni italiane utilizzando come guida l'alfabeto. C come Chioggia è ospitata da Marta di Mangiare è un po' come viaggiare

Questo post contiene la lista dei contributi: che buon menu!

592. GIALLETTI I

Signore mamme, trastullate i vostri bambini con questi gialletti; ma avvertite di non assaggiarli se non volete sentirli piangere pel caso molto probabile che a loro ne tocchi la minor parte.

Farina di granturco, grammi 300.
Detta di grano, grammi 100.
Zibibbo, grammi 100.
Zucchero, grammi 50.
Burro, grammi 30.
Lardo, grammi 30.
Lievito di birra, grammi 20.
Un pizzico di sale.

Con la metà della farina di grano e col lievito di birra, intrisi con acqua tiepida, formate un panino e ponetelo a lievitare. Frattanto impastate con acqua calda le due farine mescolate insieme con tutti gl'ingredienti suddetti, eccetto l'uva. Aggiungete al pastone il panino quando sarà lievitato, lavoratelo alquanto e per ultimo uniteci l'uva. Dividetelo in quindici o sedici parti formandone tanti panini in forma di spola, e con la costola di un coltello incidete sulla superficie d'ognuno un graticolato a mandorla. Poneteli a lievitare in luogo tiepido, poi cuoceteli al forno o al forno da campagna a moderato calore onde restino teneri.

croccanti / a family recipe for a special sweet treat

December 23, 2011 | Simona

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In the days leading up to the Holidays, my aunt Lucia would bake special cookies and apportion them among family members: my uncle, my father, my cousins. My father visited her before Christmas and brought back the package allocated to our family. I never saw my aunt making the content of that eagerly awaited package, but in my mind’s eye I can reconstruct the scene: the kitchen, the table, the fireplace, my aunt and my father chatting. What came out at the receiving end were diamond-shaped torzetti and half-domed croccanti (croccante means crisp, crunchy).

I regret that I did not ask my aunt for any of her recipes. I guess in my mind I thought I had time, until one day, time suddenly ran out. For years I had been making meringues (meringhe) enriched with walnuts inspired by my aunt’s croccanti, but I knew they were different. A few years ago, I asked one of my cousins whether a record of the recipe existed. A few days later, I received an email with the list of ingredients and a set of instructions that provided a starting point to develop my own version of the beloved croccanti, a variation on a theme of egg whites (albumi) and walnuts (noci) dedicated to my aunt.

Print-friendly version of briciole’s recipe for croccanti

Ingredients:

2 extra-large egg whites at room temperature
1/2 cup super-fine or granulated white sugar (zucchero)
8.5 oz. (240 g / 2 and 1/2 cups) shelled walnuts
2 tablespoons (30 ml) all-purpose white flour, sifted
1/2 teaspoon (2.5 ml) vanilla extract

My aunt started with walnuts still in their shells, and I often buy whole walnuts, because I enjoy cracking them. Shelled walnuts are readily available and also convenient. However, they should be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator, as they are prone to become rancid, due to their high fat content (including nutritionally-valuable alpha-linolenic acid, ALA, an omega-3 fatty acid).

In her “Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone”, Deborah Madison gives instructions on how to treat walnuts to improve their flavor when they aren’t freshly cracked, and make them less irritating for people who are sensitive to their skins. Bring a pan of water to a boil, add the walnuts and let them stand for one minute, then drain them and absorb the excess moisture with a towel. Finally, spread the walnuts on a baking sheet and place them in the oven preheated to 300 F until they have dried out, 15-20 minutes. Remove them from the oven as soon as they are dry.

After you take the walnuts out of the oven, let them cool, then spread them on a cutting board and chop them finely using a knife. At the end you should have a bit more than two cups of fragments.

Place two egg whites (I use pastured eggs) in a mixing bowl and let them rest until they reach room temperature. Place a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 350 F.

Beat the egg whites until stiff peaks form. Slowly add the sugar to the egg whites and continue beating until it is well incorporated. Sift flour over the egg whites and fold it in with a spatula, using light, slow movements. Add the chopped walnuts in a few batches and fold them into the batter with the spatula, again using light movements. Add vanilla extract and gently stir in.

Line one large baking sheet or two small ones with parchment paper (in this case, a silicone baking mat is not recommended). Drop the batter on the sheet by spoonfuls (i.e., use a soup spoon to scoop up the batter and let the spatula help you in the dropping phase), leaving 3/4-1 inch between mounds. You should have 24 of them, of 1.5-2 inch diameter.

Bake for about 20 minutes, carefully overseeing the process. Check the cookies after 18 minutes. They are ready when you can pick one up delicately with two fingers without a disappointing structural failure. The bottom should be a light tan color and upon applying a little pressure, the surface should feel delicately crisp. If otherwise, bake for an additional two minutes, then check again. Be careful because it is easy to burn the cookies. Do not touch the cookies when they come out of the oven, but let them cool on the baking sheet. To accomplish this, you may consider closing the kitchen door to prevent the sweet smell to waft out and become an irresistible magnet on other inhabitants of the house.

When you bite into a croccante, you hear the light crackle of the crisp outer layer. Your teeth sink into finely chopped walnuts supported by a framework of egg white and sugar. The latter dissolves and creates a substrate over which the walnut bits dance and overlay their nuttiness on the prevailing sweetness. As you chew, the nuts’ crunchiness is slightly offset by a stickiness that encourages slow motion.

This original family recipe, made mostly of white ingredients, is my submission to the White Christmas Challenge on Very Good Recipes. Follow the link to see all the recipes submitted to the event… and also to see that my croccanti were selected for 5th place: Thank you!

White Christmas in Italian is bianco Natale.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

croccanti

Or launch the croccanti audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

White Christmas Challenge, cookie, walnut

recipe: croccanti

December 21, 2011 | Simona

Croccanti: an original family recipe for a special sweet treat

by Simona Carini

Ingredients:

2 extra-large egg whites at room temperature
1/2 cup / 100 g super-fine or granulated white sugar
8.5 ounces / 240 g / 2 1/2 cups shelled walnuts
2 tablespoons / 30 ml all-purpose white flour, sifted
1/2 teaspoon / 2.5 ml vanilla extract

Shelled walnuts should be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator, as they are prone to become rancid, due to their high fat content (including nutritionally-valuable alpha-linolenic acid, ALA, an omega-3 fatty acid).

After you take the walnuts out of the oven, let them cool, then spread them on a cutting board and chop them finely using a knife. At the end you should have about two cups of fragments.

Place two egg whites in a mixing bowl and let them rest until they reach room temperature. Place a rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 350 F.

Go to the full post on croccanti

granella di fave di cacao / cacao nibs

December 18, 2011 | Simona

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

In the beginning there is the cacao tree, Theobroma cacao, “a spindly understory tree” which, with very few exceptions, “refuses to bear fruit outside a band of 20 degrees north and 20 degrees south of the Equator.” (Sophie and Michael Coe, The True History of Chocolate)

The fruit of the cacao tree is called a cacao pod (cabosse): It contains almond-shaped seeds, called beans (fave di cacao), surrounded by a juicy pulp. The Coes explain that once the pods are opened, and the beans and their surrounding pulp extracted, there are four principal steps which must be taken to produce the cacao “nibs” (kernels) that are to be ground into chocolate: (1) fermentation, (2) drying, (3) roasting (or toasting) and (4) winnowing. No matter what the level of technology, this sequence has been in force for at least three millennia and still is followed in the modern world.

Soon after the cacao pods are harvested, seeds and pulp are extracted and piled up. Fermentation ensues and lasts several days. “Cacao fermentation is a fermentation of the pulp, not the beans, but it transforms the beans as well… Right out of the pod, the bean is astringent, bitter, and essentially aroma-less… Properly conducted fermentation converts the astringent but bland beans into vessels laden with desirable flavors and flavor precursors.” (Harold McGee, On Food and Cooking).

Once the fermentation is complete, the seeds are dried in the sun, cleaned, bagged, then transported to locations where they will be processed. There, they start their journey to become chocolate by being roasted (to develop their flavor and aroma). Temperature and duration of roasting are the first of the chocolate maker’s secrets and vary based on the bean variety and provenance. The roasted cacao beans are cracked into pieces and then winnowed. The result of the winnowing process is a separation of the cacao nibs from the chaff. The cacao bean husks can be composted, while the nibs proceed to the next step.

The preceding paragraphs are excepted from an article I wrote earlier this year, which goes on to talk about the processing of cacao nibs into chocolate (on this page, you can see a photo I took of "the next step"). In this post, I'll stop here because the protagonists are the cacao nibs themselves.

I remember well the first time I saw a package of cacao nibs by Scharffen Berger on the shelf of a store in Berkeley, some years ago. I wondered what they tasted like and how to use them. Our local grocery store carried cacao nibs in the bulk section, a sign that they have become an item consumed by enough people. I made my most recent purchase of cacao nibs during a visit to the chocolate makers mentioned in the article: Dick Taylor Chocolate.

I no longer wonder how to use them, but maybe you do, so here are some ideas.

Cacao Nibs… are the essence of chocolate (cioccolato). Nibs add crunchiness and subtle chocolate flavor to baked goods and savory dishes. They make a great substitute for roasted nuts or chocolate chips, without added sweetness. [source]

I have added my cacao nibs from my most recent purchase to my homemade yogurt (more on this in a future post) and also to my pasta frolla to make special frollini (cookies). Add some cacao nibs to the dough after the egg and the vanilla extract by distributing them on the surface of the dough-in-progress. You may start by adding 2 tablespoons; then, if you enjoy the result, try increasing to 3 (which is the amount I use).

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for frollini (with and without cacao nibs)

My next suggestion is homemade Bel Paese cheese with cacao nibs. Bel Paese (literally, beautiful country) cheese was created in 1906 by Egidio Galbani and is produced by Galbani, the company he founded. The name came from the title of the 1876 book by Antonio Stoppani dedicated to the geophysical beauties of Italy. Dante and Petrarch had used the expression to refer to Italy. Bel Paese is a semi-soft cow cheese with a mild, sweet, milky flavor. [As an aside, the modern label on the cheese is different from the one it had when I was a child, shown on the right.]

When I made the cheese, following the recipe in Debra Amrein-Boyes' 200 Easy Homemade Cheese Recipes¹, I hit a bump on the road: kind of a long story, which in the end did not impact the ripening of the cheese in the way I feared. The big unknown was how would the cacao nibs interact with the ripening cheese. After six weeks of aging, I cut it and we tasted it: I am pleased by the result. The cacao nibs softened and donated some of their nuttiness to the cheese, while still creating a contrast in texture and flavor.

The big question is: will I be able to reproduce it? Ask me again in a few months. For now, I am enjoying my creation, shown in this photo in the company of a couple of Lavash crackers (a favorite baked good with my husband). I had some for dinner with slices of my pane alla zucca (pumpkin bread).

This is my contribution to edition #314 of Weekend Herb Blogging, an event started by Kalyn of Kalyn's Kitchen, now organized by Haalo of Cook (almost) Anything at Least Once and hosted this week (the last one of the year) by Haalo herself.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

¹ I refer you to the book for the recipe details (some apply to cheese making in general, some to the specific cheese).

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

granella di fave di cacao

or launch the granella di fave di cacao audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

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cacao, cookies, cheese

granella di fave di cacao

Il frutto dell'albero del cacao si chiama cabosse e contiene semi a forma di mandorla, chiamati fave di cacao, circondati da una succosa polpa biancastra. Sophie and Michael Coe nel loro The True History of Chocolate, spiegano che una volta che le cabosse sono aperte e fave e polpa estratti, la produzione di granella di fave di cacao (che viene poi macinata per fare il cioccolato) avviene attraverso quattro passaggi: (1) fermentazione, (2) essiccatura, (3) torrefazione e (4) vagliatura. Questo processo viene seguito da almeno tremila anni (certo, con mezzi che sono cambiati nel tempo!).

Dopo il raccolto delle cabosse, polpa e fave vengono estratti e ammucchiati. La fermentatione che segue dura diversi giorni. A fermentare è la polpa, non le fave, ma il processo influenza anche i semi. Appena uscite dalla cabosse, le fave hanno un sapore amaro, astringente e praticamente nessun aroma. La fermentazione converte le fave in contenitori di sapori e precursori di sostanze aromatiche (libera traduzione da Harold McGee, On Food and Cooking).

Al termine della fermentazione, le fave vengono essiccate al sole, pulite, messe in sacchi e trasportate nei luoghi di utilizzo, dove cominciano il viaggio per diventare cioccolato con la tostatura, processo che sviluppa sapore e aroma. Temperatura e durata della tostatura sono il primo dei segreti del cioccolatiere e variano in base alla varietà di cacao e alla sua origine. Dopo la tostatura, le fave vengono frantumate e vagliate per rimuovere il tegumento che le riveste.

I paragrafi prcedenti sono tratti da un articolo che ho scritto qualche mese fa, nel quale poi parlo del processo che trasforma la granella di fave di cacao tostate in cioccolato (su questa pagina, potete vedere una foto dell'inizio di tale processo). In questo post, mi fermo qui, dal momento che la protagonista è la granella.

Mi ricordo bene la prima volta che vidi, alcuni anni fa, una confezione di granella di fave di cacao (prodotta da Scharffen Berger) in un negozio di Berkeley. Mi domandai che sapore avesse e come usarla. Nel negozio dove faccio la spesa più spesso, la granella si trova sfusa, da acquistare a peso, segno che è richiesta da abbastanza persone. Il mio acquisto più recente di granella l'ho fatto presso la fabbrica artigianale di cioccolato descritta nell'articolo di cui sopra: Dick Taylor Chocolate.

A questo punto so come utilizzare la granella di fave di cacao, ma se voi non siete sicuri, eccovi alcune idee.

La granella di fave di cacao… è l'essenza del cioccolato. La granella contribuisce un elemento croccante e dà un sottile sapore di cioccolato a prodotti da forno e piatti salati. È un ottimo sostituto di frutta secca tostata e gocce di cioccolato e non contribuisce zucchero. [origine della citazione]

Ho aggiunto granella di fave di cacao al mio yogurt fatto in casa (maggiori dettagli in proposito in un post futuro) e anche alla mia pasta frolla che uso per fare i frollini. Qui di seguito riporto la ricetta della pasta frolla con l'aggiunta della variante con granella di fave di cacao.

Preparare la pasta frolla con i seguenti ingredienti:

85 g burro freddo tagliato a pezzetti
65-70 g zucchero
65 g farina integrale per torte
70 g farina bianca
30 g farina d'orzo integrale (o la stessa quantità di farina di frumento)
25 g farina di mandorle
un uovo
1/4 cucchiaino di estratto di vaniglia
2 o 3 cucchiai (30-45 ml) di granella di fave di cacao

Distribuire la granella sulla superficie della pasta frolla "in progress" dopo aver incorporato l'uovo e l'estratto di vaniglia, prima dell'azione di impasto finale. La quantità dipende dal vostro gusto. La prima volta consiglio di aggiungere due cucchiai, poi magari aumentare a tre (che è la quantita che uso io).

Far riposare la pasta frolla in frigorifero per almeno due ore (io di solito la preparo di sera e poi cuocio i biscotti la mattina dopo. Stendere la pasta frolla fino ad uno spessore di 4-5 mm e ricavare i biscotti. Disporli su una lastra da forno foderata con tappetino di silicone o carta da forno in modo che ci siano diversi centimetri di spazio tra un frollino e l'altro. Mettere in frigorifero mentre si scalda il forno a 175-180 C. Cuocere in forno controllando di frequente che i frollini non diventino scuri. Io metto il timer a 15 minuti e poi seguo da vicino il resto della cottura. Togliere dal forno, trasferire i frollini su una griglia e farli riposare prima di assaggiarli. La ricetta produce abbastanza frollini da fare due infornate.

Il mio secondo suggerimento è formaggio Bel Paese fatto in casa con granella di fave di cacao. Il Bel Paese fu creato nel 1906 da Egidio Galbani fondatore dell'azienda omonima. Il nome deriva dal titolo di un libro del 1876 dedicato alle bellezze geofisiche dell'Italia scritto dall'abate Antonio Stoppani. (Dante e Petrarca avevano usato l'espressione in riferimento al paese.) Presumo che tutti abbiate assaggiato il Bel Paese. Però forse non tutti sapete che l'effigie sull'etichetta di una volta è quella di Antonio Stoppani. (Confesso che nemmeno io lo sapevo prima di averlo letto sul sito della Galbani.)

Quando ho fatto il formaggio, seguendo la ricetta nel libro di Debra Amrein-Boyes 200 Easy Homemade Cheese Recipes, ho avuto un problema tecnico: storia lunga da spiegare ma che alla fine non ha avuto un impatto negativo nel processo di maturazione del formaggio. avrebbero interagito la granella di fave di cacao e il formaggio. Dopo sei settimane di maturazione, ho tagliato la forma e l'abbiamo assaggiato: sono soddisfatta del risultato. La granella si è ammorbidita e ha trasferito parte del suo sapore "noccioloso" al formaggio, nello stesso tempo creando un contrasto di consistenza e sapore.

Sarò in grado di riprodurre quello che ho fatto? Potrò rispondere tra qualche mese. Per ora, mi gusto la mia creazione, che nella foto posa con dei cracker Lavash (che piacciono molto a mio marito). Io ho mangiato la mia porzione con un paio di fettine del mio pane alla zucca.

Questo post è il mio contributo all'edizione numero 314 di Weekend Herb Blogging, un evento creato da Kalyn di Kalyn's Kitchen, organizzato ora da Haalo di Cook (almost) Anything at Least Once, la cui versione italiana è organizzata da Brii di briggishome, e ospitata questa settimana da Brii stessa.

Questo post contiene il raccolto dell'evento.

panna cotta al tè verde matcha e biscottini / green tea panna cotta and cookies

February 27, 2011 | Simona

matcha panna cotta / panna cotta al tè verde matcha e biscottini

a pastel green panna cotta

The February 2011 Daring Bakers' challenge was hosted by Mallory from A Sofa in the Kitchen. She chose to challenge everyone to make Panna Cotta from a Giada De Laurentiis recipe and Nestle Florentine Cookies.

If it weren't for the DB's challenge, I don't think I would have ever tried making panna cotta. How come?, you may ask. You are Italian, you should love panna cotta. Let me explain. Panna cotta is a dessert typical of Piemonte, a region quite far from Umbria, where I grew up — panna cotta-less, as it happens. The first time I tasted panna cotta was after I moved to Milan: I was underwhelmed, so our relationship did not develop. But I think it is important to go past first impressions and so I welcomed Mallory's choice for the challenge. The recipes she suggested for the challenge are available here.

I wanted to find a lighter recipe than the one suggested. After some roaming on the web, I landed on a recipe from Epicurious that satisfied my requirements: small quantities, less cream (panna), just a little gelatin (gelatina) and sugar, and matcha. As I recounted in a recent post, I bought some good quality matcha, so using it to make panna cotta sounded perfect.

I made the recipe twice, using the observations made during the first attempt to get a prettier result the second time. The original recipe is on this page and these are the changes I made:

2 tablespoons of vanilla sugar (I then omitted the vanilla extract)
1 1/4 teaspoons matcha
[decreasing the sugar and increasing the matcha are changes suggested by a reviewer]

Sprinkle gelatin over water, making sure the grains absorb water (based on this recommendation by David Lebovitz). Heat the liquid to a fairly high temperature (though below boiling point). I used the traditional bamboo whisk, called chasen (shown in the photo above) to mix well matcha and half and half. I divided the liquid into three portions and instead of pouring it into custard cups, I used my vintage ice cream glasses, so later I didn't need to unmold the panna cotta to serve it. After the panna cotta set, I could see from the outside a bit of the matcha deposited on the bottom of the glasses. However, that did not seem to affect the flavor of the dessert.

To accompany the panna cotta and fulfill the challenge's requirements, I got tempted to make fiorentini closer to the tradition, as shown in this post (in Italian), but then decided to try the given recipe to see how the quick oats (fiocchi d'avena) would taste in this context. I divided the quantities by four, because I wanted a small number of cookies and then halved the sugar to bring the sweetness to an acceptable level. This is the list of ingredients I used:

3 tablespoons unsalted butter (1.5 oz or 40 g)
1/2 cup (120 ml) quick oats
1/4 cup granulated sugar (50 g)
25 g (a scant ounce) all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon (30 ml) agave nectar (there is no corn syrup in my pantry — and never will be)
1 tablespoon (30 ml) milk
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
a mini-pinch of salt
a small quantity of 70% cacao chocolate (cioccolato), chopped finely

I followed the instructions in the given recipe and obtained nine cookies, which I let cool on the baking sheet. When ready, I melted the chocolate and drizzled it on top of the cookies, then let it set.

I decided to call the cookies I made biscottini (literally, small biscotti), because they are approaching the realm of pasticcini. In Italian, the word biscotto has a different meaning from that in the US, as explained in this post. Pasticcini (singular pasticcino) are either small pastries (of which you can see an example in this photo) or rich cookies usually served as an accompaniment to tea (pasticcini da tè, of which you can see an example on this page).

I have since seen recipes for panna cotta that use agar or egg whites instead of gelatin and I am planning to try those next.

A special thank you goes to our host for her choice and her efforts. It was a nice challenge. I hope you will take the time to go around and look at the creative output of my talented fellow Daring Bakers.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

panna cotta al tè verde matcha e biscottini

or launch the panna cotta al tè verde matcha e biscottini audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

recipe: frollini (cookies)

November 29, 2010 | Simona

Frollino

by Simona Carini

A frollino is a biscotto di pasta frolla, a cookie made with sweet shortcrust pastry. Frollini are popular in Italy, one of the kind of biscotti that Italian eat for breakfast or a snack. I usually make pasta frolla to make crostata (tart) and use the leftover dough to make cookies, but sometimes I make a batch just to bake frollini.

Ingredients for Simona’s variation on the pasta frolla theme:

1/3 cup (superfine) vanilla sugar [65-70 g]
1/2 cup regular flour [65 g]
1/2 cup whole-wheat pastry flour [65 g]
1/4 cup whole-grain barley flour [28 g]
1/4 cup almond meal or almond flour [28 g]¹
3 oz (6 tablespoons) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces [85 g]
1 large or extra-large egg, lightly beaten in a small bowl
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract (if you don’t have vanilla sugar)

For the variation with cacao nibs:

2-3 tablespoons cacao nibs

Put the sugar in the food processor and, if it is not superfine, let it run for a little while, then add the flours and mix briefly. Add the butter and pulse a few times, until the mixture has the consistency of coarse meal. Empty the food processor’s bowl on your kneading surface. Make a well in the center and pour the egg in it. With the help of a fork incorporate the egg into the flour mixture.

If you didn’t use vanilla sugar, add vanilla extract. If you are making the variation with cacao nibs, add them now by distributing them on the surface of the dough-in-progress.

Knead lightly just until the dough comes together into a ball, shape it into a thick disk, wrap it in plastic, and put in the fridge until well chilled. I usually do this in the evening and let the dough rest in the fridge overnight.

When you are ready to bake the cookies, prepare a baking sheet lined with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper. You will have enough cookies to make two baking shifts, so take a bit more than half the dough and put the rest back into the fridge. Roll the dough to 4 mm thickness (1/6 inch) and cut as desired. Put the baking sheet with the first batch of cookies into the fridge for 10-15 minutes, while you heat the oven to 350 F.

Put the cookies in the oven. I check the cookies after 15 minutes and then carefully monitor them, as they can easily become overbaked. Cool the cookies on a wire rack. Repeat with the second batch of cookies. If you have two baking sheets, you can cut and chill the second batch of cookies while the first one is in the oven.

¹ I have also used coconut flour and the result was very good.

Back to the post on frollino

or Back to the post on granella di fave di cacao / cacao nibs

frollino

September 27, 2010 | Simona

The September 2010 Daring Bakers’ challenge was hosted by Mandy of What the Fruitcake?! Mandy challenged everyone to make Decorated Sugar Cookies based on recipes from Peggy Porschen and The Joy of Baking.

The recipes Mandy provided for the different elements of the challenge can be found here.

What I made looks different from what you see on the Daring Bakers web site due to our household's dietary needs. Before I move on to describe what I did and why, I'd like to say a few words about icing. The Italian expression that corresponds to the English "the icing on the cake" is la ciliegina sulla torta (literally, the glacé cherry on the cake). To me, this is emblematic of the differences between English and Italian pastry traditions. One day, I will explain my thought in more details: for now, I will concentrate on my frollini.

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for frollini

A frollino is a biscotto di pasta frolla, a cookie made with sweet shortcrust pastry (or sweet tart dough). Frollini are popular in Italy, one of the kind of biscotti that Italian eat for breakfast or a snack, as I explained in this post. I usually make pasta frolla to make a crust for a tart and use the leftover dough to make cookies. This time, I made only cookies, and had fun cutting them in various shapes. The recipe for my variation on the pasta frolla theme is in this recent post.

When you are ready to bake the cookies, prepare a baking sheet lined with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper (carta da forno). You will have enough cookies to make two baking shifts, so take a bit more than half the dough and put the rest back into the fridge. Roll the dough to 4 mm thickness (1/6 inch) and cut as desired. Put the baking sheet with the first batch of cookies into the fridge for 10-15 minutes, while you heat the oven to 350 F.

The challenge required us to decorate the cookies with the theme of September, "whatever that means to you." September is when my husband and I celebrate the anniversary of the day we met. So, I started by making heart-shaped cookies (biscotti a forma di cuore). I then made turtle-shaped cookie. As I recounted in a previous post, my husband loves turtles, especially the sea turtles (tartarughe marine) that we are fortunate enough to have seen many times in their natural habitat (swimming, eating, or taking a nap). I also made cat-shaped cookies, since my husband is a cat lover and he taught me to love cats (gatti).

I recognize the great qualities icing has for decorating, but iced cookies are not eaten in our household. I therefore decided to use some white chocolate to add a touch of decoration to some of the cookies. I melted a small amount of white chocolate in a small bowl over a pot of steaming water, making sure the bowl did not touch the water, as explained in the book "Chocolate" by Linda Collister (a gift from a friend).

I didn't want to dip the cookies into the chocolate, and my attempts at creating some sort of design by spreading the melted chocolate did not go well. Still, one can interpret the small dot in the middle of the heart-shaped cookie in the photo as a stylized ciliegina sulla torta. I really like my frollini plain. You can eat them as a snack, or dip them into tea or caffelatte. Grab one or two, sit down, relax and concentrate on every bite: it's a celebration of the present moment.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words and expressions mentioned in the post:

frollino

or launch the frollino audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

offelle di marmellata

December 21, 2008 | Simona

Offella is an ancient name meaning focaccia dolce (sweet). It comes from the Latin offa, a small focaccia made with farro. The recipe for these cookies was inspired by the one in La scienza in cucina e l’arte di mangiare bene (Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well — this and the other two links below go to an English translation of the book) by Pellegrino Artusi, first published in 1891. In Italy, we refer to this seminal cookbook as L’Artusi.

I have no childhood memories of cookie-baking at our house in preparation for the Holidays. However, that has not prevented me from engaging in cookie-baking in my adulthood. In preparation for that undertaking, I flipped through the good old Artusi, and the offelle di marmellata caught my attention. They are not traditional Christmas cookies, but I decided to co-opt them to become part of my own personal tradition.

I had several jars of my homemade marmellata and was looking for a way to use it besides the one I already know (for example, to top my tartarughe di pasta frolla). I have a round scalloped cookie cutter and decided it would work, though it is not exactly like the one shown in the book. I also have my burro fatto in casa (homemade butter), which just screamed to be used for cookies.

I recommend you read the interesting introduction Artusi writes to his recipe for offelle di marmellata. In the audio file I pronounce for you the saying mentioned: dar l’offa al Cerbero.

I did not use the recipe for apple filling given by Artusi, but indeed, one of the marmellate I made has apples and grapes, so it is similar. I also used other types of marmellata for the several batches of offelle I baked. I make marmellata with a relatively small quantity of sweetener (as you can read here), so it is more of a fruit spread than a jam.

I developed a variation of Artusi’s recipe A for pasta frolla (sweet shortcrust pastry), which I will give below. I decided to make a smaller batch of pasta frolla than the one in the book, and distributed the offelle immediately to the intended recipients. I even mailed some, but I don’t yet know how they fared during their trip. One thing I often do is prepare the pasta frolla in the evening and keep it in the fridge until the next morning, when I bake offelle for breakfast. My husband likes that.

Ingredients:

1/3 cup sugar
1 cup regular flour (farina)
1/2 cup whole-wheat pastry flour
3 oz (6 tablespoons) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1 large or extra-large egg
a bit of grated lemon zest or 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract (optional)
1 egg yolk diluted with 2 teaspoons water (egg wash)
marmellata (a thick kind with low sugar content works better)

Put the sugar in the food processor and let it run for a little while, then add the flours (minus one tablespoon of the regular one) and mix briefly. Add the butter and pulse a few times, until the mixture has the consistency of coarse crumbs. Empty the food processor’s bowl on your kneading surface. Make a well in the center and break the egg in it. With the help of a fork incorporate the egg into the flour mixture. Add optional flavoring of choice (I use vanilla sugar). Knead briefly to obtain a soft dough, shape it into a thick disk, wrap it in plastic and put in the fridge until well chilled.

Preheat the oven to 375 F. Divide the dough into 2-3 pieces and keep the one(s) you are not rolling in the fridge until needed. Roll the dough to a thickness of 3 mm (1/8 inch), using the tablespoon of flour set aside above to keep your surface and the rolling pin non stick. Cut the dough using your cookie cutter and put the excess dough in the fridge to chill it before reworking it. Spoon some fruit spread in the center of a cookie and cover it with another, pressing all around the edge to seal. Place on a baking sheet lined with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper. Repeat until you use all the dough.

I usually bake two batches, so I can let the excess dough chill before rolling it again. With a pastry brush, paint a bit of the egg wash over each cookie and put the baking sheet in the oven. Check after 16 minutes and gauge the remaining baking time. The offelle are ready when golden. Let them cool for a few minutes on the tray before trying to move them. It is better to bake the second batch on another sheet, so the first batch can rest undisturbed. Forget about storing the offelle: share them and eat them as soon as possible. And since they are not tied to the Holidays, you can bake more offelle afterwards, whenever you feel like. That is definitely what I’ll do.

This is my contribution to season 2 of Eat Christmas Cookies, an event mixed and baked by Susan of Food Blogga. She has been gathering a host of delicious recipes from around the world, 228 of them, to be precise. You can see them all in part 1 and part 2 of the roundup.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

offelle di marmellata

or launch the offelle di marmellata audio file [mp3].