Sicilian long zucchini and its greens with tomatoes / cucuzza e tenerumi al pomodoro

tenerumi e cucuzza / IMG_2546

flavors of Sicily: cucuzza e tenerumi
(placemat by La FABBRICA del LINO)

Italian author Andrea Camilleri died on 17 July, 2019, aged 931. The novels he wrote narrating the adventures of detective Salvo Montalbano are one of the main reasons Novel Food came to exist and it is therefore fitting to dedicate to il maestro (the master), as he was respectfully called in Italy, this post.

In the archive of briciole there are several posts dedicated to Montalbano and dishes from his (and Camilleri's) native Sicily2. Montalbano likes to eat well, though he is not a cook, so he relies on his housekeeper Adelina, the chefs of his favorite restaurants and a small number of friends, to delight his palate. He hates to talk while eating and prefers to eat alone. After having lunch in his favorite trattoria, to help the digestive process he walks down the pier to a special rock, where he spends quiet time considering the various elements of the case at hand and sometimes talks to a crab.

In The Terracotta Dog, the second novel of the series3, Montalbano, while dealing with a modern crime, discovers a 50-year-old one: in a cave, he finds two skeletons guarded by a terracotta dog. The mystery of the burial pulls Montalbano and he can't let go until he solves it, in quite a creative way. The story behind the two dead people allows Camilleri to describe a page of Sicilian history, around the time of the Allied invasion of the island (1943). I don't want to divulge more of the story: it is quite fascinating and you can read the book then watch the TV movie based on it4.

tenerumi e cucuzze / IMG_2104

tenerumi e cucuzza at the Berkeley farmers market

During the investigation, Montalbano is invited to dinner by headmaster Burgio, whose wife Angelina cooks a traditional Sicilian vegetable: tinnirume (also called tenerumi):

The soft vegetables, which consisted of the leaves and flowers of Sicilian zucchini — the long, smooth kind, which are white, lightly speckled with green — had come out so tender, so delicate, that Montalbano actually felt deeply moved. With each bite he could feel his stomach purifying itself, turning clean and shiny.

The vegetable reappears in The Voice of the Violin5 (the fourth novel of the series), where its original name is kept in the English translation, and where it is said to "cheer the stomach and intestines."

I tasted pasta with tenerumi when I first visited Sicily many years ago. Besides prepared as a side dish the way signora Angelina did, tenerumi are also used to make soup. When I saw tenerumi at the Berkeley farmers market a recent Saturday, I could not believe my eyes. I felt I had been tele-transported to Sicily. The zucchina lunga (Lagenaria siceraria) called cucuzza in dialect, does not belong to the same species as other zucchini6:

Lagenaria siceraria (Cucuzza longa, Bottlegourd, Calabash gourd) is an ancient cucurbit… The plant has white flowers and fruit size and shape can be very variable… There are two common types: a short necked ornamental type, var. a fiasco, and a long edible type, var. longissima. The long fruits harvested at immature green stage were a popular vegetable in antiquity (cucuzza longa), but they were replaced by various immature fruits of Cucurbita pepo from the New World where various types are known as zucchini. However, the cucuzza longa is still a common vegetable in Sicily… The shoots, called tenerumi, are very appreciated in Sicily and they are very popular in summer season in local markets.

zucchina lunga / IMGP4164

zucchina lunga sold at the Vucciria market in Palermo

The specimens of cucuzza sold at the Berkeley farmers market7 are shorter than to the ones I saw in Palermo, at the famous Vucciria market, some years ago. That was fine with me as I ride my bike to the market and it would have been awkward to pedal with a yard of cucuzza sticking out of my backpack. I bagged a bunch of tenerumi and two short cucuzze and rode home.

tenerumi e cucuzza / IMG_2540

fresh from Sicily Marin County to my table
(placemat by La FABBRICA del LINO)

The leaves, flowers, blossoms and tender stems are edible and are eaten, an example of efficiency in the use of available food resources. The raw leaves have a distinctive consistency: they feel like fabric. In fact in dialect they are referred to as pezzi or pezze (meaning, pieces of fabric).

tenerumi e cucuzza / IMG_2543

preparation in progress

I cooked cucuzza e tenerumi simply, with sweet onion and some fresh Early Girl tomatoes from the same farmer. I can confirm the vegetable's cleansing properties extolled by Montalbano.

Print-friendly version of briciole's recipe for Sicilian long zucchini and its greens (cucuzza e tenerumi) with tomatoes

Ingredients:

  • 12 ounces / 340 g Sicilian long zucchini (cucuzza)
  • A bunch of tenerumi, Sicilian long zucchini greens (8 ounces / 225 g clean weight)
  • 6 ounces / 170 g small Early Girl tomatoes
  • 4 tablespoons / 1/4 cup / 60 ml extra-virgin olive oil
  • 6 ounces / 170 g onion sweet onion (like Walla Walla or cipollini), finely diced
  • 1/4 teaspoon fine sea salt
  • A pinch of freshly ground black pepper

Trim the zucchini top and bottom, quarter each lengthwise, then cut crosswise into slices 1/8 inch / 3 mm thick.

Wash the tenerumi, discard the thickest stems and tendrils. Cut the leaves in 1-inch / 2.5 cm ribbons and the tender stems into short lengths.

Halve the tomatoes and cut each half into 3-4 slices, depending on size.

Warm up the olive oil in a large skillet or deep sauté pan over medium heat. Add the onion, stir to coat and let cook on medium-low heat for 5 minutes, stirring often.

Add the zucchini and tenerumi and stir well. Turn up the heat to medium-low and cook for a couple of minutes, then cover the skillet and turn the heat to low. After 5 minutes, add the tomatoes and stir well. Cover and cook gently until the zucchini and tenerumi are tender, stirring every  now and then. The last 5 minutes or so, cook uncovered to let the extra water evaporate.

Remove from the heat and serve immediately.

Serves 4-5 as a side dish. (The photos do not show the whole yield.)

tenerumi e cucuzza / IMG_2547

variation with cheese
(placemat by La FABBRICA del LINO)

A couple of way to enrich the simple side dish: sprinkle some grated cheese on top (in Sicily I would have used caciocavallo, but at home I used some sheep milk cheese) and/or make a nest with it and cook an egg on top.


1 Andrea Camilleri's obituary in The Guardian
2 From briciole's archive, posts that mantion Montalbano: caponata di melanzane, cipollata, four kinds of bread, reginelle (sesame seed cookies)
3 The book's page on the publisher's website
4 Alberto Sironi, the director of the Montalbano TV series (some 34 movies!), died 3 weeks after Camilleri: this obituary includes also an interview (with subtitles) of Luca Zingaretti, the actor protagonist of the series.
5 The book's page on the publisher's website
6 Traditional vegetables of Sicily by Ferndiando Branca and Giuseppe La Malfa
7 Thanks to La Tercera farm in Bolinas for growing special produce


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

cucuzza e tenerumi al pomodoro

or launch the cucuzza e tenerumi al pomodoro 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 contribution to the 37th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I started 12 years ago and that I continue to host.

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.


tomatoessweet onionzucchiniside-dishItalian food

recipe: Sicilian long zucchini and its greens (cucuzza e tenerumi) with tomatoes


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reginelle / sesame seed cookies

reginelle sesame cookies

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.

Reginelle

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:

  1. The whole-wheat pastry flour is my way of making cookies a bit more nutricious.
  2. 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.
  3. 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.
  4. 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. 
reginelle sesame cookies

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).

reginelle sesame cookies

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.

reginelle sesame cookies

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.

reginelle sesame cookies

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.

Small_NFlogo 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.

CtB 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

Novel Food #8: quattro tipi di pane / four kinds of bread

IMGP8745

He realized that, despite his fatigue, which was aggravated by the phone call, he felt hungry as a wolf. It was ten past six, not yet dinnertime. But who ever said you have to eat at an appointed time of day? He went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Adelina had prepared a dish fit for a convalescent: boiled cod. On the other hand, they were huge, extremely fresh, and six in number. He didn't bother to reheat them; he liked them cold, dressed with olive oil, a few drops of lemon, and salt. Adelina had bought the bread that morning: a round scanata loaf covered with giuggiulena, those delicious sesame seeds you are supposed to eat one by one as they fall onto the tablecloth, picking them up with your forefinger moistened by saliva. He set the table on the veranda and had himself a feast, savoring each bite as though it were his last.

As you may have guessed, "he" is Inspector Montalbano, the protagonist of novels and stories written by Italian author Andrea Camilleri. I had read Il giro di boa (Rounding the Mark), the novel from which the excerpt above is taken, shortly after it was published, in 2003, and recently I read it again. I lingered over this passage for several reasons. The first one is that it reminded me of my first visit to Sicily, many years ago now. I tasted bread covered with sesame seeds for the first time and loved it. Then, there is the great choice made by the novel's translator, Stephen Sartarelli, of leaving some of the original Sicilian words, especially giuggiulena, which sounds just lovely. I have read that the word comes from the Arab giulgiulan, meaning sesame seed. Sesame seeds (semi di sesamo in Italian) are used in two other delicious Sicilian specialties: reginelle and cubbaita. Finally, there is the philosophy behind Montalbano's approach to eating: savoring each bite as though it were his last. Words to live by.

Montalbano does not cook and does not ask Adelina (his housekeeper) to prepare for him a specific dish. He is happy with whatever he finds in the fridge or in the oven, and when he decides to eat, he devotes to the meal his full, undivided and loving attention: he sets the table, sits down to eat and savors each bite "as though it were his last." Eating on the run is a concept that does not have any place in Montalbano's world. As I wrote in my very first post on this subject, sometimes Montalbano supplements the food prepared by Adelina "with aulive, passuluna and a piece of caciocavallo (green and black olives and a typical southern Italian dream of a cheese)."

The peaceful image of food savored to the last sesame seed picked up from the tablecloth is in sharp contrast with the horrible crimes that are the subject of Montalbano's investigation in the novel, which contains references to current political problems and events. I won't give you more details, otherwise I may spoil your pleasure. Because you are going to read the book, aren't you?

Reading the excerpt and remembering the bread I ate while in Sicily inspired me to make bread with giuggiulena (sesame seeds). Also, Montalbano's love for olives (olive) suggested to me that he may like them in his bread. The end result is a set of four breads and references to their recipe.

Looking for a recipe for bread with sesame seeds, I found two on the King Arthur Flour's web site. The first one (called lunetta) uses mostly semolina flour (which comes from durum wheat). I suggest that you follow this recipe by weighing the ingredients, not measuring their volume (you can view the ingredients by weight on the recipe page). Also, make sure you get fine-textured semolina flour. To be on the safe side, I put the flour in the food processor and run it for a while before mixing it with water, then let the mixture rest for 15 minutes before proceeding with the rest of the preparation. Based on one of the comments on the recipe page, I used a whole egg to make the wash and baked the bread on a pizza stone (for longer than stated). Below there is a photo of the bread sliced1.

IMGP8525

The second recipe has less semolina flour and more white flour (I happen to have Italian-style flour, which I use in a recipe for pizza dough). The braid shape is not very evident in the photo. I chose this recipe, because I seem to remember that the bread I ate during my first visit to Sicily was shaped in a braid (treccia) a bread I also found in the atlas of Sicilian breads. In this case, I added a quarter cup of sourdough starter to the ingredients, as a personal touch.

black olive cheeks

Black Olive Cheeks (puccia) from Local Breads by Daniel Leader. You can read the recipe here. The only change I made is using less olives (1 cup), half of them oil-cured and half kalamata. I pitted and chopped the olives the evening before making the bread, after preparing the biga, so the morning after all the ingredients were ready. Don't be surprised if these panini (literally, small breads) disappear fast: they are delicious2.

whole-wheat challah

Finally, something special to surprise Montalbano: a challah bread made with mostly whole-wheat flour, compliments of Peter Reinhart. This was my first try at challah and in honor of the fact that when I buy challah, I usually get one with poppy seeds (semi di papavero), because it is my husband's favorite, I decided to devote half the surface to each kind of seed. A first challah experience and a very satisfying one.

IMGP8435

Each of these breads has a different personality, due to the different ingredients. As my next step of my Montalbano-inspired exploration of the world of breads, I would like to try a recipe I found in a recently-purchased bread-making book, but first I need first to get some durum flour. More on this in a future post.

I wanted a photo showing sesame seeds ready to be picked up "with your forefinger moistened by saliva," so here you can see the S-shaped bread sliced and spread with foods whose identity will be revealed in the near future.

IMGP8743

On May 23, 2009, Camilleri uncovered la statua di Montalbano (Montalbano's statue) in his home town (Porto Empedocle Vigata, see my first post for details on this name). If you follow the link and then click on the word avanti (forward) you can see a close-up. A month prior to the unveiling of the statue, Camilleri had written an article about it for the Italian newspaper La Repubblica in which he described how one day he had met a person strikingly resembling his Montalbano. The article ends with a reference to Luigi Pirandello's novel One, No One and One Hundred Thousand (Uno, nessuno e centomila), preceded by this words:

So già che molti diranno che non somiglia a Montalbano. E che altrettanti diranno invece che gli somiglia. È inevitabile: ogni lettore si crea un suo Montalbano.

I know that many people will say that it doesn't look like Montalbano. And just as many will say that it looks like him. It's inevitable: each reader creates his or her own Montalbano.

Nf_chef_100px_2

This is, as you may have guessed, my contribution to the eighth edition of Novel Food, a literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I cooked up a few seasons back and have been co-hosting ever since.

My portion of the roundup is here and Lisa's portion is here.


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

quattro tipi di pane

or launch the quattro tipi di pane  audio file [mp3].


1 I had never heard of a bread called lunetta, so I did a bit of search on the web. I found an atlas of Sicilian breads, which includes a reference to lunedde, votive breads with the imprint of a hand. Here I read that these panini are spiral-shaped and that the hand imprint symbolizes Our Lady of Sorrows. Unfortunately, I could not find a photo of lunedde nor a mention of sesame seeds on their surface, so I am not sure whether there is a connection. On the other hand, the pane casereccio di Lentini is S-shaped and covered with sesame seeds. There is also a crescent-shaped bread called laddu or ladduzzu, and the reason I looked at it is that the Italian lunetta means lunette. On this page there is a bread called lunetta that is crescent-shaped and seedless. In summary, I am still not sure about the Italian connections of KAF's lunetta. If anybody is able to provide information, I would be very grateful. 

2 In the book, Leader says that he first saw these rolls in Lucca (Tuscany). A web search points to Puglia as the origin of a bread called puccia, a version of which is puccia with olives. Readers from Puglia, would you like to comment on this? There is also a bread called puccia in Veneto, made with rye flour.