Italian food

farrecchiata: polenta di roveja

| Simona

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versione in italiano

farrecchiata / roveja
a personal take on a traditional Umbrian dish
(dish by @fem_pottery, placemat by La FABBRICA del LINO)

Our current Cook the Books Club selection is The City Baker’s Guide to Country Living by Louise Miller1. The novel tells the story of Olivia Rawlings, pastry chef in an exclusive club in Boston, who, after losing her job, takes refuge in the town of Guthrie, Vermont. The connection to Guthrie is her friend Hannah, who lives there with her husband.

Olivia is hired as pastry chef at the local inn and quickly gets involved in town’s activities. She also meets a number of residents, a colorful cast deftly described by Miller. Adventures ensue, some in the professional field, others in the personal one. The seasons, particularly winter, play a role as well, with the traditions tied to them. The novel is an easy, pleasant read, possibly something to immerse yourself into during the upcoming winter Holidays.

As you can imagine, given Olivia’s job, there is a fair amount of food in the book, mostly desserts. I don’t have a sweet tooth and we don’t eat dessert at home, so I looked for inspiration elsewhere, namely in the weather: it’s cold in Guthrie in the winter, and it snows a lot. Growing up, my father would describe a cold day as “polenta day,” a not-so-subtle hint to my mother to prepare one of his favorite dishes.

roveja and its flou
rovejaa (Pisum arvense) and its flour
(dish by @fem_pottery, placemat by La FABBRICA del LINO)

Traditional polenta is made with cornmeal. In Valtellina, a splendid valley in the Italian Alps, polenta taragna2 is made with a blend of cornmeal and buckwheat flour (farina di grano saraceno). In my home region of Umbria, the local legume roveja3 (Pisum arvense) is ground and cooked into a nutritious type of polenta called farrecchiata.

I brought the ingredient back from Italy and the reading inspired me to prepare the traditional dish, which I never ate at home as my parents were originally from the neighboring region of Lazio, so farrecchiata was not part of their culinary heritage. Neither was roveja, but I was introduced to it some years back and wrote a post about it.3

farrecchiata / roveja
a dish to warm and nourish
(dish by @fem_pottery, placemat by La FABBRICA del LINO)

I make farrecchiata with my usual method for making polenta. According to recipes I read, the traditional way of serving farrecchiatia is with a simple sauce of garlic-infused olive oil and anchovies (alici). Much as I like anchovies, I did not enjoy the result. Farrecchiata has a slightly bitter note to be balanced, so for my next experiments I used my favorite polenta pairing: cheese (formaggio). That made my taste buds happy, particularly when I used fresh chèvre (caprino fresco).

Fundamentally, polenta of any type is a blank canvas that invites the cook to choose their preferred pairing. This is also the case for leftover polenta, which is firmer than the freshly cooked one, can be sliced and pan-fried, grilled or baked and enriched with the topping of choice.

Print-friendly version of briciole’s recipe for Farrecchiata with cheese

Ingredients:

  • 2 cups / 480 ml cold water
  • 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
  • 1/2 cup / 3 ounces / 85 grams roveja flour
  • cheese of choice, to taste, crumbled, cut into small pieces or grated, depending on consistency
    • I use crumbled Cypress Grove Meyer Lemon and Honey4: 1 ounce / 28 grams mixed in at the end of cooking plus to taste as topping on individual servings

    Pour the cold water into a saucepan and add the salt. Slowly add the roveja flour in a thin stream, while whisking. Place the saucepan over medium heat. Continue whisking as the water warms up. As soon as the water reaches boiling point, turn down the heat to low to maintain a simmer. Keep stirring with the whisk for the first 10 minutes or so, then switch to a wooden spoon as stirring implement.

    Cook the farrecchiata for 35-40 minutes, stirring often to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the pan and to avoid the build-up of steam that results in bubble explosions.

    Add the chosen cheese to the farrecchiata at the end of the cooking time, and stir to incorporate it. Serve immediately, possibly with additional cheese as topping or on the side.

    Makes 1 1/2 cups. Serves 3-4 as a side dish.

    I have served and eaten farrecchiata as a side dish, together with roasted or stewed vegetables. A particularly pleasant pairing is with roasted winter squash, whose sweetness complements farrecchiata‘s pleasant bitter note.

    1 The book’s page on the publisher’s website
    2 From briciole’s archive: polenta taragna
    3 From briciole’s archive: roveja
    4 Cypress Grove Meyer Lemon and Honey

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

    Cook the Books logoThis is my contribution to the current selection of our Cook the Books hosted by Claudia of Honey from Rock. (You can find the guidelines for participating in the event on this page.)

    The roundup of the event.

    FTC disclosure: I have received the table linen free of charge from the manufacturer (la FABBRICA del LINO). I have not and will not receive any monetary compensation for presenting it on my blog. The experience shared and the opinions expressed in this post are entirely my own.

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    graph divider

    farrecchiata (polenta di roveja)

    farrecchiata / roveja
    una tradizione della mia regione d’origine (ceramica di @fem_pottery, tovaglietta di La FABBRICA del LINO)

    Arrivati alla lettera R del nostro viaggio nel mondo degli ingredienti ho scelto di preparare un piatto umbro: la farrecchiata (polenta di roveja). Della roveja, dal 2006 Presidio Slow Food dell’Umbria, ho scritto in passato.1 Confesso che non ho mai mangiato la farrecchiata in Umbria. I miei genitori erano originari del Lazio e mia madre faceva la polenta classica di mais. Durante una recente visita ho comprato della farina di roveja e finalmente ho preparato la farrecchiata.

    roveja and its flou
    la roveja (Pisum arvense) e la sua farina (ceramica di @fem_pottery, tovaglietta di La FABBRICA del LINO)

    Le ricette che ho consultato descrivono una salsa di olio infuso d’aglio e alici sciolte per condire la farrecchiatia. Le alici mi piacciono, ma non ho gradito il connubio con la farrecchiata. Questa ha una nota amarognola da bilanciare. Quindi successivamente ho usato il mio condimento preferito: il formaggio (polenta taragna2 docet). Il mio palato ha apprezzato, in modo particolare quando ho usato del caprino fresco di produzione locale.3

    farrecchiata / roveja
    un piatto nutriente e che riscalda (ceramica di @fem_pottery, tovaglietta di La FABBRICA del LINO)

    Ingredienti:

    • 480 ml di acqua fredda
    • 1/4 cucchiaino di sale fino
    • 85 grammi di farina di roveja
    • formaggio a scelta, in quantità a piacere, sbriciolato o tagliato a pezzetti o grattugiato, a seconda della consistenza
      • io uso caprino fresco sbriciolato: 30 grammi mescolati alla farrecchiata al termine della cottura, più a piacere sopra le porzioni individuali

      Versate l’acqua in una pentola e salate. Aggiungete lentamente a filo la farina di roveja, mescolando col frullino a mano. Mettete la pentola su fuoco medio e portate l’acqua ad ebollizione, sempre mescolando, poi abbassate il calore al minimo che mantiene un leggero bollore. Continuate a mescolare col frullino per 10 minuti poi passate ad usare un cucchiaio di legno.

      Cuocete la farrecchiata per 35-40 minuti, mescolando spesso per evitare che si attacchi al fondo della pentola e anche che accumuli vapore e poi provochi piccole esplosioni vulcaniche.

      Al termine della cottura, aggiungete il formaggio scelto e mescolate bene per incorporarlo. Servite immediatamente la farrecchiata, magari con dell’altro formaggio da aggiungere a piacere.

      Porzioni: 3-4 come contorno.

      Servo la farrecchiata come contorno insieme a verdire arrosto o stufate. Una combinazione che apprezzo in modo particolare è quella con la zucca, la cui dolcezza si bilancia bene la nota amarognola della farrecchiata.

      1 Dall’archivio di briciole: roveja (in inglese)
      2 Dall’archivio di briciole: polenta taragna (in italiano, oltre che in inglese)
      3 Cypress Grove Meyer Lemon and Honey (in inglese)

      Un mondo d'ingredienti logolettera R logoContribuisco la mia farrecchiata (polenta di roveja) dall’Italia alla lettera R di Un mondo d’ingredienti evento creato dall’instancabile Aiu’ di Trattoria Muvara

      FTC disclosure: Ho ricevuto gli articoli di lino gratuitamente dall’azienda produttrice (la FABBRICA del LINO). Non ho ricevuto e non riceverò alcun compenso per presentarli sul mio blog. Le opinioni espresse nel post sono interamente personali.

      Copyright © 2007 – 2026 Simona Carini. All rights reserved.

tomato, cucumber and radish salad / insalata di pomodori, cetrioli e ravanelli

| Simona
tomato, cucumber ad radish salad / IMG_1977

light, refreshing, colorful, flavorful: perfect!
(placemat by La FABBRICA del LINO)

Three months ago, I listened to an interview1 with science writer Christie Aschwanden2, author of the book Good To Go: What the Athlete in All of Us Can Learn from the Strange Science of Recovery3. I was so intrigued by what I heard that I purchased the book and learned a lot by reading it. While I am not a competitive athlete, I exercise regularly and a year and a half ago I started running regularly. Regardless of how far you push yourself, recovery is a fundamental component of physical activity.

Aschwanden's writing kept my attention throughout the whole book as I followed description of her experiences, interviews with experts and athletes, and the summary of her extensive research. If you want a taste of what the book is about, besides listening to the interview, you can read a five-point summary4. Aschwanden supports some things I have done for a long time, like not skipping sleep and drinking when I am thirsty. I do my best to listen to my body, because our body is really good at adapting to challenges and also at signaling when adjustments are needed. This active listening is often hard for us to do, pushed as we are by fads and unscientific claims.

cherry tomatoes / IMG_1973

cherry tomatoes means summer is here!
(bottom row: red and yellow tiger stripe)

Just as I was reading the book, summer arrived and with it produce I like, including tomatoes, corn, melons (meloni), green beans5. Running in warmer temperatures means sweating more and with it comes the desire to eat water-rich vegetables, like tomatoes and cucumbers. When I was a child, we would spend the day at the beach (if on vacation) or at the swimming pool (if in Perugia): in either case, it was nice to come home to a big salad made with pomodori da insalata (salad tomatoes, slicing tomatoes harvested while still a bit green) and slicing cucumbers, the kind with dark green skin. I now favor cherry tomatoes for salads and the array of cucumbers available is quite rich, including lemon, Boothby's blond, Japanese, to name just a few.

Armenian cucumbers / IMG_1973

Armenian cucumbers

I am currently fascinated by the pale green, deeply ribbed, long Armenian cucumbers (cetrioli armeni), whose flesh is mild- and sweet-tasting. Genetically they are a musk melon (Cucumis melo var. flexuosus), rather than a cucumber (Cucumis sativus). The addition of peppery radishes creates a pleasant contrast of flavors, accented by fresh basil (basilico), indispensable companion.

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for Tomato, cucumber and radish salad

Ingredients:

  • 12 ounces / 340 g cherry tomatoes (in the photo are red and yellow tiger stripe), preferably organic
  • 10 ounces / 280 g Armenian cucumbers OR cucumbers of another slicing variety, preferably organic
  • 4 ounces / 112 g radishes, preferably organic
  • 1/2 tablespoon / 7.5 ml sherry vinegar
  • 2 tablespoons / 30 ml extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
  • 6-8 fresh basil leaves, shredded

Prepare the salad shortly before serving it.

Cut the tomatoes in half lengthwise and, if they are long, cut each half in half or into thirds crosswise. Place in a salad bowl.

Quarter the cucumbers lengthwise and slice them into the salad bowl. 

Grate the radishes using the extra-coarse side of your grater and add to the salad bowl.

Put the vinegar, olive oil and sea salt into a small glass jar. Screw on the lid and shake well. Distribute on the salad and toss gently. Sprinkle the basil, then toss again. Taste and adjust the seasoning to your liking, then serve.

Serves 4-5

tomato, cucumber ad radish salad / P1040021

this salad makes it easy to eat your daily quota of vegetables
(placemat by La FABBRICA del LINO)

Light, refreshing, colorful and flavorful: this salad is perfect for lunch and dinner. Your body will thank you.

1 Recording of the interview (on the same page you can access an excerpt of the book)
2 The author's website
3 The book's website
4 The Greatest Tool for Recovery Might Be Common Sense (from Outside magazine)
5 See my previous post with a recipe for Green bean and torpedo onion salad

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

insalata di pomodori, cetrioli e ravanelli

or launch the insalata di pomodori, cetrioli e ravanelli 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.]

Small_NFlogoThis is my second contribution to the 36th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I started 11 years ago and that I continue to host.

The roundup of the event.

Souper Sundayslogo I am contributing my salad also to Souper (Soup, Salad & Sammies) Sundays, a weekly event created by Cook the Books club co-host Deb of Kahakai Kitchen.

The roundup of the event.

FTC disclosure: I have received the table linen free of charge from the manufacturer (la FABBRICA del LINO). I have not and will not receive any monetary compensation for presenting it on my blog. The experience shared and the opinions expressed in this post are entirely my own.

tomatoes, Armenian cucumbers, cucumbers, radished, salad, Italian food

recipe: tomato, cucumber and radish salad

| Simona

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green bean and torpedo onion salad / insalata di fagiolini e cipolla rossa di Tropea

| Simona
green beans / snap beans / IMG_1963

a simple seasonal side dish with a lot of flavor
(placemat by La FABBRICA del LINO, cheeseboard by BHVwoodworks1)

The memoir Blood, Bones & Butter by Gabrielle Hamilton2 had been on my to-read list for a while. I had read good reviews and was intrigued by the title. Hamilton's writing and storytelling style makes for an easy reading and the events she narrates with more details are well chosen. The three parts of the title corresponds to the three parts of the book and three periods of her life: childhood-early adulthood, chef/owner of a restaurant, marriage and motherhood.

My favorite part is when she describes her boss and mentor Misty for which she worked while in graduate school in Ann Arbour, MI3.

Working with her at Zanzibar taught me how to run a restaurant. It was the first time in 20 years I'd heard a chef say "I don't know, let me look it up." It was the first time I'd seen a chef solicit the opinions or ask about the experiences of her staff. If the dishwasher's mother made posole for every family reunion, Misty would ask him about it. She ran her kitchen without insults or humiliations or fraternity-like hazings.. There is so much anger and so many crises I can handle, particularly as my reading time is at the end of the day, after I have had my own share of problem solving to do.

Once the book moves to Italy, a lot of what Hamilton recounts sounded familiar. For example, when she describes people stopping by her mother-in-law's masseria (farmhouse) in Puglia to drop various produce, she could have described my childhood experience while staying with my aunt in my father's village: we would get figs, green beans, peaches, tomatoes, etc., delivered to our house in wicker baskets. They were mostly barter (my aunt  hemmed and mended clothes for friends and neighbors). I assume some were actual sales, but I don't remember money ever appearing. "Facciamo i conti la prossima volta" (we'll settle next time) was the usual phrase.  

green beans / snap beans / IMG_1974

farm-fresh green beans are irresistible

The family of Hamilton's husband lives in Rome most of the year then moves to Puglia for the summer, so she experiences the difference between the city and the countryside of another region also in terms of food. As I was reading Hamilton's adventures, I remembered my first vacation away from my family, a fortnight spent with a friend in her hometown of Rossano, in Calabria4. A lot of the foods I ate were either new or prepared differently from the way my mother prepared them.

torpedo onion / IMG_1956

so pretty and sweet!

The latter group included green beans (a.k.a., snap beans and a few other names5), which my friend's mother boiled and dressed like a salad, but with the addition of red onion from Tropea6 (cipolla rossa di Tropea). I had never eaten a raw onion before and did not think you could. I quickly fell in love with the mild, sweet onion, elongated in shape, which is recognized at the EU level with the IGP (Protected Geographical Indication) label7.

Below is that seminal salad revisited to add two ingredients that bring additional flavor: whole-grain mustard (senape in grani) and dried cherries (ciliegie secche)8. Please note that the latter are not in the bowl I used for the photographs. If I get a nice image later I will add it to the post.

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for Green bean and torpedo onion salad

Ingredients:

  • 1 pound / 450 g green beans (snap beans), possibly organic
  • 1 1/2 tablespoon chopped dried cherries (unsweetened and unsulphured), optional
  • 2 tablespoons finely sliced and chopped torpedo onion
  • 1 tablespoon / 15 ml fresh lemon juice
  • 1/2 teaspoon whole grain mustard
  • 2 tablespoons / 30 ml extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt
  • A touch of freshly ground black pepper

Trim the beans (I only top them) and wash them. Steam the beans until tender to your liking (my preference is for softer beans). Cool the beans quickly in a bath of iced water. Drain and place the beans in a salad bowl to cool thoroughly. 

Place the cherries in a small bowl and add 1 tablespoon / 15 ml of lukewarm water. Stir then stir again 15 minutes later. Set aside until ready to use.

Cut the beans into bite-sized pieces (approximately 2 inches / 5 cm long). Add the onion and toss.

Put the rest of the ingredients into a small glass jar. Screw on the lid and shake well. Distribute on the salad and toss gently. Sprinkle the cherries, if using, then toss again. Taste and adjust the seasoning to your liking, then serve.

Serves 3-4

green bean and torpedo onion salad / P1040011

a bowl to dive your fork into

As green bean season has just started, I know I will make this salad a lot in the near future.

1 I purchased the cheese board from BHVwoodworks: I like what Brian does with wood
2 The book's page on the publisher's website
3 In this article written for Food & Wine, Hamilton describes "Misty Callies, my reluctant mentor, who inadvertently shaped me into the chef I am now"
4 The Codex Purpureus is one of the treasures of Rossano
5 Snap beans, green beans, string beans (though modern varieties are stringless), haricot vert all refer to the same vegetable. "Green snap beans are categorized into two different groups, bush or pole beans, based on growth characteristics. If the bean plant needs support to grow, they are classified as pole beans; if the beans can grow on their own without added support, they are classified as bush beans." [source]
6 Notes on torpedo onions and the cipolla rossa di Tropea consortium's website (in Italian)
7 Definition of Protected geographical indication (PGI, IGP in Italian)
8 At the Downtown Berkeley farmers' market, I recently found sun-dried Brooks cherries with no additives from Frog Hollow farm.

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

insalata di fagiolini e cipolla rossa di Tropea

or launch the insalata di fagiolini e cipolla rossa di Tropea 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.]

CtBThis is my contribution to the current selection of our Cook the Books hosted by me, Simona of briciole. (You can find the guidelines for participating in the event on this page.)

The roundup of the event.

Small_NFlogoThis is also my contribution to the 36th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I started 11 years ago and that I continue to host.

The roundup of the event.

Souper Sundayslogo I am contributing my salad also to Souper (Soup, Salad & Sammies) Sundays, a weekly event created by Cook the Books club co-host Deb of Kahakai Kitchen.

The roundup of the event.

FTC disclosure: I have received the table linen free of charge from the manufacturer (la FABBRICA del LINO). I have not and will not receive any monetary compensation for presenting it on my blog. The experience shared and the opinions expressed in this post are entirely my own.

green beans, snap beans, torpedo onion, salad, Italian food

recipe: green bean and torpedo onion salad

| Simona

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artichokes, fava beans and sausage / carciofi, fave e salsiccia

| Simona
artichokes, fava beans and sausage / IMG_1894

satisfying spring flavors (sapori di primavera)
(placemat by La FABBRICA del LINO, cheeseboard by BHVwoodworks)

Reading Buttermilk Graffiti1 by Edward Lee, the current selection of the Cook the Books club, was a pleasure from the first to the last page. Lee is a great storyteller: he brings the readers with him in his travels, inside every eating establishment he visits, next to every person he talks to. Together with the more factual details of his 16 stories, each centered around a place with specific food traditions, he shares doses of personal opinions, memories, experiences.

Each chapter of the book ends with a few recipes and some of them now are on my to-try list. Yet, as I was reading the book I knew I would make something that would represent my own move: from Italy to California, from a defined set of traditions tied to local food products, to a place where foods I had until taken for granted were not available or quite different, while foods unknown to me were waiting for me to discover them and incorporate them into my diet.

baby artichokes / IMG_1894

freshly harvested baby artichokes from Shakefork Community Farm

Last month I was in Italy: artichoke season was in full swing and fava beans were also in every grocery store. The artichokes I purchased in Perugia, my hometown, were purple (viola), unlike the ones I find in California. I am happy I can buy artichokes in both places, happy too that in my adoptive country I can purchase them directly from the farmers who grow them. Similarly fava beans, which were my father's favorite spring vegetable, were hard to find when I first moved to California, then they became available at the farmers' markets where I shop and now they are plentiful.

fava beans / IMG_1894

fava beans courtesy of Happy Boy Farms

One day during my visit, I was talking with my sister-in-law and she mentioned a dish of artichokes, fava beans and shelling peas (carciofi, fave e piselli). It is a spring vegetable combination with various names around Italy (e.g., vignarola). I brought the idea back with me to Northern California.

Shelling pea season being still early when I returned, I focused on artichokes and fava beans and added sausage meat to make a complete dish that can be eaten as is, used to dress some pasta, or topped with an egg (my favorite variation). Pork meat (carne di maiale), fresh or cured, is a staple in central Italy, where I grew up. Meeting Northern California farmers who raise pigs properly and artisans who prepare their meat with care has prompted me to try different types of sausages, some closer to those available in my home country (mild or hot Italian), others quite different (leek and white wine, or blueberry).

Like dishes Lee describes in his book, this recipe tells the story of an Italian dish transported by an immigrant to her adoptive country and prepared there with local ingredients, for which she is grateful. It is a pleasure to eat, which, in this case, is the most important thing.

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for Artichokes, fava beans and sausage

Ingredients:

  • 1 pound / 450 g fresh fava beans in their pods
  • 8 ounces / 225 g (2-3) small artichokes, possibly organic
  • 1 teaspoon / 5 ml fresh lemon juice
  • 2 ounces / 55 g sausage meat (like mild Italian)
  • 1 tablespoon / 15 ml extra-virgin olive oil, divided 
  • 1 garlic clove, peeled and halved (hopefully from the new crop)
  • 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt, or to taste
  • A pinch of freshly ground black pepper
  • 1/2 tablespoon minced fresh parsley

Shell the fava beans and blanch them for one minute, drain them and plunge them into a bowl of ice cold water. Drain them again, then remove the skin from the beans to bring their bright green core to light. Set aside.

Prepare a bowl with about 4 cups / 1 liter of water and the lemon juice.

For each artichoke: Detach and discard 3 rows of leaves, until you see the light green heart at the base. Cut off the stem and peel it to reveal the light green center and cut that into pieces. Toss them into the lemony water.

With a paring knife, peel away a thin ribbon around the base where the 3 rows of leaves attached. Cut off the top 1/2 inch / 1.25 cm of the artichoke and discard that top portion. Place the artichoke cut top down and slice off 1/2 inch / 1.25 cm all around at an angle (i.e., slice off the top portion of the external 2-3 layers of leaves).

Quarter the artichoke, carve out the hairy center (choke), if any (small artichokes may not yet have it) then quickly cut each quarter into thin slices (no thicker than 1/4-inch / 6-mm) and immediately toss them into the lemony water.

Warm up 1/2 tablespoon of olive oil in a skillet, add the sausage meat broken into small pieces and cook on gentle heat for a couple of minutes. Move it to a small bowl, leaving behind the rendered fat.

Add the rest of the olive oil to the skillet, warm it up, add the garlic and stir. After a minute, drain the artichokes, add them to the skillet and stir well. Arrange the artichokes into a single layer, cover and cook on gentle heat for 15 minutes, stirring every now and then. If needed, add a bit of water, to prevent artichokes from sticking to the pan.

Add the fava beans, stir well, cover again and cook on gentle heat for 10 minutes, stirring every now and then.

Transfer the sausage meat into the skillet, stir well, cover again and cook on gentle heat until the artichokes are tender, stirring every now and then, 5 minutes or so.

Sprinkle the sea salt, black pepper and fresh parsley on top, stir well and remove the skillet from the heat.

Serve immediately.

Serves 3-4 as appetizer.

IMG_1894

Italian-inspired recipe realized with California products
(placemat by La FABBRICA del LINO, cheeseboard by BHVwoodworks)

As I started reading the book, I realized I had met the author in person at the LongHouse Food Revival, September 2014. The day before the event, I rode in a car with him and Carlos Gaytan, chef of the restaurant Mexique in Chicago3 I remember Lee as soft-spoken and smiling, a memory that matches his persona in the book, someone who enters an eatery, restaurant or bar, sits quietly for a while, then strikes up a conversation with other patrons, someone who listens and elicits stories from the people he meets.

1 I purchased the cheese board from BHVwoodworks: I like what Brian does with wood
2 The book's website
3 See my post on mole poblano

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

carciofi, fave e salsiccia

or launch the carciofi, fave e salsiccia 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.]

CtBThis is my contribution to the current selection of our Cook the Books hosted by Debra of Eliot's Eats. (You can find the guidelines for participating in the event on this page.)

The roundup of the event.

FTC disclosure: I have received the table linen free of charge from the manufacturer (la FABBRICA del LINO). I have not and will not receive any monetary compensation for presenting it on my blog. The experience shared and the opinions expressed in this post are entirely my own. 

artichokes, fava beans, sausage, appetizer, Italian food

recipe: artichokes, fava beans and sausage

| Simona

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artichoke spread / paté di carciofi

| Simona
artichoke spread / IMG_0018 (1)

creamy distillation of artichokes

A recent visit to the local bookstore resulted in the purchase of the novel The Goldfinch by the American author Donna Tartt.1 Published in 2013, The Goldfinch won the 2014 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction, among other honors.

Distinctly Dickensian in breadth, The Goldfinch grabbed my attention from the mysterious opening pages, and soon I found myself deeply interested in the adventures of the protagonist, Theo Decker, who reminded me a lot of Pip, the protagonist of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. The first person point of view works well in the story. The title refers to a small painting by Carel Fabritius (a pupil of Rembrandt) that the 13-year-old Theo takes while escaping the aftermath of a terrorist bombing at an art museum in New York City, where his mother dies. The painting accompanies Theo as his life gets buffeted by various events and is also behind some decisions he makes. 

There is a fair amount of food mentioned in the novel. The inspiring episode happens early on in the story. After his mother’s death, Theo moves in with his friend Andy Barbour, whose wealthy family lives on Park Avenue, NYC. The Barbours lead an engagement-rich life, and often host parties at their house. The children (Andy and his two younger siblings, plus Theo) are not included in the festivities, but when possible they partake of the food served:

Andy and I sat side by side on the lower bunk of his bed, eating cocktail shrimp and artichoke canapés from paper plates—or, rather, he ate, while I sat with the plate on my knees, untouched… From the living room: clinking glasses, smells of candle was and perfume, every now and then a voice rising brilliantly in laughter. Everything was lost, I had fallen off the map: the disorientation of being in the wrong apartment, with the wrong family, was wearing me down, so I felt groggy and punch-drunk, weepy almost, like an interrogated prisoner prevented from sleeping for days. Over and over, I kept thinking I’ve got to go home and then, for the millionth time, I can’t.  (page 88) 

For the next 45+ pages, Theo’s lack of appetite is mentioned often. Mrs. Barbour’s attempts at providing him enticing dishes even cause bouts of jealousy in the younger Barbours. On page 135, Theo meets a person that puts him at ease and offers him a dish he eats with appetite. The story goes on, but I got “stuck” on page 88 and the artichoke canapés. In my archive there is a post on canapés (tartine) with homemade bread (pane fatto in casa)2 and one on artichoke hummus3, which uses canned artichoke hearts (cuori di carciofo). For Theo, I decided to make a spread using fresh artichokes from the farmers’ market.

fresh artichokes / IMG_1763

beautiful artichokes from Earthly Edibles Farm (Korbel, CA)

The sight of artichokes always reminds me of Italy, where artichokes are popular and prepared in many ways. This spread captures the essence of artichoke’s flavor. While it requires more time than using canned artichoke hearts, the result is without comparison.

Print-friendly version of briciole’s recipe for Artichoke spread

Ingredients:

  • 1 1/4 pounds / 570 g (2-3) artichokes, possibly organic
  • 1 teaspoon / 5 ml fresh lemon juice
  • 2 tablespoons / 30 ml extra-virgin olive oil for cooking the artichokes
  • 2 garlic cloves, peeled and halved (green germ removed, if present)
  • 1/8 teaspoon fine sea salt, to taste
  • 1 teaspoon minced fresh parsley
  • 1 tablespoon / 15 ml extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1-2 tablespoons / 15-30 ml water
  • 1 tablespoon almond butter OR extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1 tablespoon finely chopped toasted walnuts or pecans, as topping

Prepare a bowl with about 4 cups / 1 liter of water and the lemon juice.

For each artichoke: Detach and discard 3 rows of leaves, until you see the light green heart at the base. Cut off the stem and peel it to reveal the light green center and cut that into pieces. Toss into the lemony water.

With a paring knife, cut a ribbon around the base where the 3 rows of leaves attached. Cut off the top 1 inch / 2.5 cm of the artichoke and discard that top portion. Place the artichoke cut top down and slice off 1 inch / 2.5 cm all around at an angle (i.e., slice off the top portion of the external 2-3 layers of leaves).

Quarter the artichoke, carve out the hairy center (choke), then quickly cut each quarter into 1/4-inch / 6-mm slices and immediately toss them into the lemony water. Repeat with the other artichokes.

Warm up the olive oil in a 10-inch / 25 cm deep sauté pan or similar skillet, add the garlic and stir. After a minute, drain the artichokes, add them to the pan and stir well. Arrange the artichokes into a single layer, cover and cook on gentle heat until tender (about 40 minutes), stirring every now and then. If needed, add a bit of water, to prevent artichokes from sticking to the pan.

IMG_1774 (1)Sprinkle sea salt and fresh parsley on top, stir and remove from the heat.

Let cool briefly then transfer the artichokes into a food processor or blender and finely chop them. Add the remaining olive oil and 1 tablespoon / 15 m of water. Continue processing, stopping at intervals to scrape the side of the bowl.

Add the almond butter or additional olive oil and 1 teaspoon / 5 ml of water and continue processing until you have a spreadable cream. If necessary, add 1 or 2 more teaspoons / 5-10 ml of water to reach a soft, creamy consistency.

Run the spread through a mesh strainer placed over a bowl, pressing on it with a spatula. With a flexible spatula, scrape the surface of the mesh on the side that faces the bowl: that is like artichoke nectar. When there are only dry strings left, discard them and scrape the bottom of the strainer one last time.

Adjust salt as needed, transfer the spread into a serving bowl, sprinkle walnuts on top and serve with toasted bread or crackers. Allowing people to make their own canapés works for a small gathering. For a party, you may want to prepare the artichoke canapés ahead of time and use different types of bread for variety. 

1 The NY Times review of the novel
2 My post on canapés  
3 My post on artichoke hummus

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

paté di carciofi

or launch the paté di carciofi 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.

Small_NFlogoThis is my second contribution to the 35th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I started 11 years ago and that I continue to host.

The roundup of the event.

Fr2019150I am also contributing to the March edition of Foodies Read the reading/cooking event hosted by Heather of Based on a True Story.

Visit the linkup page to see what others have read and cooked.

 

spread, artichoke, appetizer, Italian food

recipe: artichoke spread

| Simona

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recipe: stuffed zucchini

| Simona

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