traditional

torciglione

| Simona

torciglione

As I mentioned in my recent post on dolci delle feste, every region of Italy has specific traditions: torciglione is a tradition of my region, Umbria. As a child, I ate occasionally the one made by a family friend.

When Jeremy of DoBianchi wrote a comment on fagiolina del Trasimeno  mentioning the anguilla (eel) traditionally fished in the lake, I was reminded of torciglione. I knew that its shape is supposed to represent the snakelike fish. I was also reminded of the fact that, unlike eel, I liked torciglione a lot, so I decided to try to make it for the upcoming holiday season. (As an aside, it is actually possible to buy torciglione during the year.)

The main ingredients of torciglione are almonds (mandorle), sugar (zucchero) and egg whites (albumi). I looked for some recipes, then made up my first version using 300 g of almonds and 200 g of sugar (in the recipes I read, the quantity of sugar was higher). I then made a second version with even less sugar, 170 g. I liked that better than its predecessor. At this point, I read a post on torciglione by Salsadisapa of qualcosa di rosso: her recipe had even less sugar, so I felt justified in further reducing the amount I would use for my third version. Another important characteristic of her recipe was the lack of flour, an ingredient that I had also reduced to a couple of tablespoonfuls. I am very thankful to Salsadisapa for this detail and for the exchange we had on the topic.

A handful of bitter almonds is added to the sweet ones, but I cannot find bitter almonds, so I skip that ingredient. I like to use vanilla sugar (i.e., sugar that is stored in a jar with vanilla beans) and just a hint of grated lemon zest to add nuanced flavor.

Ingredients:

  • 300 g (10.5 oz.) almonds, blanched, peeled, dried in the oven at 300 F and cooled
  • 125 g (1/2 cup + 2 tablespoons) [vanilla] sugar
  • a bit of grated lemon zest
  • 2 large egg whites
  • pine nuts (pinoli), two coffee beans (chicchi di caffè) and an almond slice for the decoration 

torciglione (detail) Preheat the oven to 350 F and line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat or parchment paper. Chop the almonds in the food processor, together with a couple of tablespoons of sugar and the lemon zest. Do not pulverize the almonds: the granules give a nice varied texture to the final product. (I hope that the close-up gives a sense of what I mean here.) Place almonds in a bowl, add the remaining sugar and mix. Beat the egg whites until stiff peaks form and gently fold them in the almond mix (the latter will become wet and sticky). Pour on the baking sheet and shape into a snake. Decorate as you like. This is the fun part. In my version, coffee beans become the snake’s eyes and an almond slice its tongue, rigorously, and impertinently sticking out of its mouth. I use a spatula to make short slits on both sides and finally align pine nuts on the back of my torciglione. I guess that makes it vaguely reminiscent of an iguana.

Bake until golden. Check after 30 minutes and gauge the remaining baking time. I usually need about 35 minutes. Let the torciglione cool thoroughly before slicing it. The outer layer is crisp, the inner core softer, with texture provided by the crunchy almonds: each morsel is a delight.

I would like to thank Jeremy of DoBianchi for inspiring me to replicate this small piece of my childhood. As I was finishing the writing of this post, I received news regarding Jeremy and his group’s (Nous Non Plus) new record Ménagerie: congratulations!

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

torciglione

or launch the torciglione  audio file [mp3].

Related articles
torciglione

rocciata

| Simona

rocciata

A thin layer of dough envelopes pieces of apple (mela), nuts and raisins. It looks like a strudel, but it isn't: It's my rendition of rocciata, a dessert that I used to eat at the house of family friends in Foligno (Umbria).

To create my own version of rocciata, I started with the recipe on the Accademia Italiana della Cucina site, then did some experiments, based on my personal taste. I had my mother confirm with our friend that she uses an egg in the dough. She also adds to it some mistrà, an anise-flavored liqueur. I sprinkle semi di anice (anise seeds) on the apples instead. There are many variations on the basic theme of this traditional dish. Some of them include a rich filling: I prefer a simpler ensemble that lets each ingredient shine.

The dough for rocciata needs to be rolled really thin. I am sure that if I saw an expert making it, I would then make a better rocciata, but I am happy with the way it is — even though it is not as faithful to the tradition as it could be — because it allows me to bring to life a delicious memory.

Ingredients for the dough:

  • 1 and 1/2 cups unbleached white flour
  • 1/3 cup whole-wheat pastry flour
  • 1 extra-large egg
  • a pinch of salt
  • 2 tablespoons granulated sugar (or more, to taste)
  • 2 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1/2 cup lukewarm water

Ingredients for the filling:

  • 1 lb and 3-4 oz peeled apples, cut into eights and then into 1/8-1/4"-thick slices
  • 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon (cannella)
  • 1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest
  • 1/2 teaspoon anise seeds (a small quantity goes a long way in providing flavor)
  • 3/4 cup raisins (uvetta)
  • 1/2 cup finely chopped walnuts* (noci)
  • 2 tablespoons pine nuts (pinoli)

* To prepare the walnuts, I bring a pan of water to the boil, add the walnuts and let them stand for one minute, then drain them and absorb the excess moisture with a towel. I spread the walnuts on a baking sheet and place them in the oven at 300 F until they have dried out, 15 minutes or so (instructions from "Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone" by Deborah Madison). I use a knife to chop them.

On a kneading board, combine flours and make a well in the center. Push aside a tablespoon of flour for later. Break the egg in the well and, with a fork, mix it with the surrounding flour. Add salt and sugar, then 4 tablespoons of the water and the olive oil. Mix with the flour to form a dough. Add more water (1-2 tablespoons) as you knead to make a soft dough. Use the flour set aside at the beginning to keep the surface non-stick. Shape the dough into a ball, cover it with a cloth and let it rest in a cool, dry place for 1/2 hour.

To prepare the filling, cover the raisins with lukewarm water. Put the apple slices in a mixing bowl and sprinkle them with cinnamon and lemon zest, then stir. Mix pine nuts and walnuts in a small bowl. Preheat the oven to 350 F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or a silicone baking mat. Drain the raisins. Roll the dough into a rectangle (or an approximation of it). I do this on a well-floured, creaseless patterned piece of cloth. If you skip the well-floured step, you'll regret it. Being able to see the pattern on the cloth gives me a measure of the thinness of the dough. Distribute the apple slices evenly over the dough, making a single layer and leaving a bit of space between each piece and its neighbors. Leave a 3/4" clear border around the perimeter. Sprinkle the anise seeds over the apple pieces, then scatter the nuts evenly, and finally the raisins.

rocciata

Roll up the dough, starting from one of the long sides, tightly but without tearing it. Press the flap gently and roll the two ends to seal. The cloth may be helpful for the transfer on the baking sheet. I shape my rocciata, which my husband calls "the sea cucumber" (cetriolo di mare), into a sort of horseshoe. It may be bent further, very gently, into a spiral. Bake for 40 or so minutes until golden. Let cool, slice and enjoy the way the concentric layers of ingredients play in your mouth.

This is my contribution to Think Spice… , a monthly event founded by Sunita of Sunita’s World. The November edition is titled …Think Anise and is hosted by historical recipe discoverer extraordinaire Manuela of Baking History.

This page contains the roundup of the event.

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

rocciata

or launch the rocciata audio file [mp3].

fagioli all’uccelletto / beans “little bird” style

| Simona

If you are thinking the name of this dish sounds cute, you are not the only one. There is actually no bird in this Tuscan dish, which I had never cooked before. The inspiration to try came from finding fresh beans still in their pods (fagioli da sgranare, literally: beans to be shelled) at the farmers' market: somehow that sight evoked in my mind the name of the dish heard of old, and it became imperative to make it come alive in my kitchen.

There is a good dose of irony in my getting excited about fresh shelling beans. As a child, I dreaded them, because shelling was a task assigned to me and I disliked beans, so there was no consolation in my toil. Now, being older and at least somewhat wiser, I approach tedious tasks like the shelling of beans with a meditative frame of mind and, of course, my taste buds welcome beans.

I forgot to write down the name of the beans when I bought them, so that piece of information is missing but thanks to my friend Carol I retrieved the missing piece of information: speckled bayo. I just bought some fresh borlotti (cranberry beans) that will be made all'uccelletto soon, and the dish can be made with dried beans as well. Before describing my rendition of this dish, I will give you the link to the recipe from La scienza in cucina e l'arte di mangiare bene (Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well) by Pellegrino Artusi, the classic cookbook first published in 1891. 

IMGP6686

Once the shelling was completed, I had half a pound of beans. I cooked them slowly in plenty of water until just tender and drained them, reserving the liquid. I prepared a simple tomato sauce, warming up a tablespoon of olive oil in a saucepan and adding to it two garlic cloves, a few sage leaves (salvia – I used some of the pineapple sage from my herb garden) and the leaves of a couple of thyme sprigs (timo – this ingredient being my idea). After a couple of minutes, when the garlic was golden, I added a 14.5 oz can of diced tomatoes and cooked for a few minutes. I used the immersion blender briefly to make the diced tomatoes into more of a sauce, then added the beans and cooked for 12 minutes or so, until the beans tasted just right. Add some of the reserved bean liquid if the sauce becomes dry. I adjusted the salt, added freshly-ground pepper, and served the fagioli hot, topped with grated parmigiano – another idea of mine.

Addendum: Using fresh tomatoes
The borlotti I mention above were cooked all'uccelletto today and, for the occasion, I decided to make the sauce with fresh tomatoes. After all, 'tis the season. Another motivation was to give a try to this tecnique for crushing tomatoes. It worked nicely. I followed the same recipe as above until, instead of opening the can of diced tomatoes, I poured in the saucepan the result of crushing three tomatoes as in the video. I let them cook for 10 minutes, then added the beans, and followed the rest of the recipe. The sauce being more watery, there was no need for additional liquid.

Badge This is my entry for the September edition the lovely event My Legume Love Affair – Third Helping, brainchild of Susan, The Well-Seasoned Cook and hosted this month by Lucy of Nourish Me.

Here is the roundup.

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

fagioli all'uccelletto

or launch the fagioli all'uccelletto audio file [mp3].

spaghetti all’amatriciana

| Simona

Not long ago I made spaghetti alla carbonara and in that post I mentioned an article in the New York Times on guanciale. The article starts by mentioning pasta all’amatriciana: when I read it, I did not know that I would be soon making it.

The inspiration came from finding Niman Ranch guanciale at The Pasta Shop in Oakland. I bought some and decided that I would use it to make spaghetti all’amatriciana. I remember eating bucatini all’amatriciana, but I am not a fan of bucatini and prefer spaghetti. As mentioned in the NYT article, some people consider spaghetti closer to the tradition. The way I see it, you can choose. I don’t have a family recipe, but I am on the side of the onion-less party. My list of ingredients, besides spaghetti, includes guanciale, pomodori and pecorino.

image from briciole.typepad.com

For my rendition of the dish I cut 1/4 lb of guanciale (sliced to my specifications at the store) into pieces (see photo) and placed them in a frying pan previously sprayed lightly with olive oil and warmed up. I cooked the guanciale for a few minutes, then removed it from the pan with a slotted spoon and placed it in a small bowl. I then added a 28 oz can of chopped tomatoes [see update below] to the pan and 1/2 teaspoon of red pepper flakes. I cooked, uncovered, for 10 minutes, then added the guanciale to the tomatoes. I set the heat to low to keep the sauce warm while the pasta cooked. 

I brought a pot of water to a rolling boil, added some salt and tossed a pound of spaghetti in it. Shortly before the pasta was ready, I adjusted salt and pepper in the sauce and prepared 1/2 cup of freshly grated… I should say pecorino, but I had some aged goat cheese and experimented with that instead. I drained the pasta and poured it in a bowl that I had kept warm, added the cheese and then the sauce while mixing.

I was pretty happy with the result. The sauce made with chopped tomatoes was a bit too watery, so next time I will try a different kind of tomatoes. Also, I will use pecorino. Update: I made the recipe using a 28 oz can of ground, peeled tomatoes and the result was more to my liking.

The two photos that I took of the final result where unusable. Fortunately, Lisa of Champaign Taste made the same dish using pretty much the same recipe, just a different kind of pasta. You are therefore invited to read her post and admire her bucatini all’amatriciana.

Festa1_3 As Lisa and I were exchanging notes after discovering that, unbeknown to each other, we had both made pasta all’amatriciana, the invitation arrived to participate to Festa Italiana, an event organized by Maryann of Finding La Dolce Vita and Marie of Proud Italian Cook. It is a favored dish in my long list, sure to please the party crowd, and so that’s what I am bringing.

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

spaghetti all’amatriciana

or launch the  spaghetti all’amatriciana  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.]