Italian culture – Page 3

Lakes Entrance Seafarers’ festival 2013.

“Are we there yet?” That’s me in the passenger seat, in between texting everyone I know.

A trip to Lakes Entrance from Melbourne seems to take forever. There are a few unscheduled stops along on the way, a quick $15.oo meal of flathead tails at the Trafalgar Hotel, a visit to an Op Shop or two on route, a stop at the Thorpdale Potato Shed for some fresh Nicola or Dutch Cream potatoes. And what about that Turkish Magic shop in Stratford for an exotic ottoman? No wonder the trip to the Lakes seems to take forever. Mr Tranquillo is a patient driver: I justify the stops in the interest of leg stretching.

Lakes Entrance is 318 kilometres from Melbourne and in theory, the trip should take 3.5 hours. In your dreams!

Each year this seaside town holds a Seafarers Festival, which occurs on the Saturday following December 6, the feast day of St Nicholas of the Seas. The festival commences with a march through the main street, the green statue of St Nic leading the way. He is then carried to the sea and watches silently while a group of pastors conduct the Blessing of the Fleet, a simple Christian event, preceded by an Aboriginal tribute.This year’s Aboriginal welcome to country included a remarkable didgeridoo performance, the melancholic sound silencing the gathered crowd. Today both Lakes Entrance and LakeTyers retain a strong Aboriginal community and presence.

Three large marquees were set up for the day’s entertainment. The first cooking demonstration was conducted by Mark Olive, or the black olive, as he calls himself. Mark is really funny and engaging: he introduces us to indigenous foods as we taste a huge variety of peppers and herbs from the Australian bush. He is a great advocate for local produce, and sees the day when our herbs and animal meats become mainstream.Although St Nicholas was known for his abstinence, this doesn’t deter us from indulging in a full wine tasting. This year only one wine company tempted us with their goods: in previous years, the Gippsland wine industry was better represented.

With a glass in hand, we moved on to the next event, conducted by Mark Norvoyle and his handsome apprentice Samuel Smith. Within 40 minutes Mark and Sam deftly pin boned a side of fresh salmon, making one simple gravlax, some salmon and eggplant spring rolls, salmon confit, and a sashimi and tofu salmon. They made it look all too simple.Salivating from the food demonstartions, we headed off in search of tucker, finding a wondrous Paella stall. The serves came in small buckets, with a generous supply of calamari, scallops and mussels for $8.00. We scoffed these down as we watched a troupe of Greek dancers spinning around in the big marquee.

Off to another cooking demo by Matt and Mike, from My Kitchen Rules fame. These two were hilarious. Not cooks, these entertainers gave us an insight into the world of MKR.

A quick rest, then off to the Lakes Entrance Bowling club for an Italian Buffet night, with all you can eat pasta and pizza. The food was so- so, and that’s being kind, but the main attraction was the band, I Viaggiatori. Kavisha Mazzella and her troupe, performed beautiful Italian folk songs and ballads from the album, ‘Suitcase Secrets’.Included was the Australianised version of Mamma Mia Dammi Cento Lire, one of my favourites, and Canzone della Lega, the radical womens song from the rice growing area of the Po Valley. Kavisha is a Melbourne legend, having initiated and led Le goie delle donne, an Italo- Australian womens choir, in the 90s. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jse5tqHTIdc

And then on Sunday we rested and ate more fish.

The Panettone Invasion

Have you noticed that the Christmas Panettone are marching into our shops, like a colourful Italian brigade, their tall boxes full of sweet promise. Originally from Milano, they are popular at Christmas and New Year all over Italy and throughout the Italian diaspora. It is often served with a frizzante wine, such as Moscato d’Asti or a liquor such as Amaretto or coffee.

But I have a Christmas confession to make. I find them quite dry and boring. As far as I am concerned, a Panettone needs all the help it can get, so dunking slices in anything wet is a plus.

But I can’t resist the beautiful boxes and if I buy one before Christmas, I display it as decor. Then, after New Year, when the prices come down,I buy a few more- usually the plain, fruit studded varieties – to stash in the freezer to make Panettone bread and butter pudding.

As the weather in the southern hemisphere is too hot to consider making this yummy treat, I am considering the summer options. After all, once that big castle shaped bread is cracked open, something needs to be done. Toasted, spread with marscarpone, drizzled with Amaretto? Layered as part of a Tiramisu?

Further summer ideas from readers would be most welcome.

Lentil Bolognese. Pasta Comfort food.

Two years ago, my favourite little Italian restaurant closed. Joe and his wife ran “Cafe Mingo”, located in Sydney Road, Brunswick. Their pasta dishes were so satisfying and cheap. Each night they would chalk up a new pasta dish or two. I remember having this vegetarian pasta one evening and I have played with it ever since. If you asked Joe where his recipes came from, he would just shrug and say “from the back of a Barilla packet!!” At the end of a meal, Joe would surreptitiously slide a bottle of home-made grappa across the table, along with a plate of wafer biscuits. It was like visiting their family home. How dare they retire!

This following is my vegetarian version of a Bolognese sauce, in the style of Cafe Mingo. The Bolognese would be horrified! What, no meat?

The soffritto

Three tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

one onion, finely chopped

one celery stick finely chopped

1 carrot finely chopped

2 cloves garlic finely chopped

salt.

The sauce

100 grams of Puy lentils

100 g of portobello or swiss brown mushrooms

10 grs of dried porcini mushrooms

2 Tablespoons tomato paste

one large tomato, seeded and finely chopped

oregano

salt and pepper

The pasta

100 g per person Casareccia or any other pasta that holds the sauce

grated parmesan, reggiano or grana padano, to serve

Cook the lentils in a heavy based saucepan with plenty of water and a bay leaf. Do not add salt as this toughens lentils. Cook for around 20 minutes, so that the lentils still hold their shape and aren’t mushy. Drain.
Soak the porcini mushrooms in boiling water, around 3/4 cup, to soften for 20 minutes. Remove the re-hydrated mushrooms, chop roughly and reserve liquid.
In a large heavy based saucepan or deep sided frying pan, heat the olive oil, then add the soffritto ingredients, adding the garlic last. Stir well and cook over medium heat for five minutes until softened. Adding a pinch of salt helps the onions sweat. Do not let the onion colour.
Then add the finely chopped portobello mushrooms, cook for 5 minutes, lowering the heat, then add the chopped porcini mushrooms and stir for a further 3 minutes.
Add the drained lentils, stir, then the mushroom soaking liquid, leaving behind any sand or grit, and continue to cook on low.
Bring a large pot of pasta to the boil, add salt, then add casareccia or other pasta and cook as directed on the packet.
As the pasta is cooking, add two tablespoons of tomato paste, and a finely chopped tomato (optional) to the lentil mixture.
Season well, add herbs, such as dried oregano, and check that the sauce is ‘wet’ enough.
When the pasta is ready, scoop out a cup of cooking water before draining. ( I always retain a cup of the cooking water in case the sauce needs it- a good habit to get into.) Add a little to the sauce to loosen the sauce.
Serve the Bolognese through the pasta, with grated parmigiana.

Tagliatelle with Broad Beans and Smoked Salmon

What the Fava! The Broad bean glut is on. One week they look nice and petite, ready to be eaten raw with a chunk of Pecorino cheese. Blink, turn around, and suddenly they are huge and in plague proportions.

Broad Beans or Fave have a fascinating history but none more so than for our local Italo- Australiani, many of whom migrated here in the 1950s, with broad beans sewn into the lining of their suitcases or hems of their coats. Fava beans played a important role in the Sicilian tradition. When dried, roasted and blessed, they became lucky beans. Some believe that if you keep one in the pantry, there will always be food in the kitchen. Given the size of our broad bean crop, we will be very fortunati this month.

I collected another basket load today and enlisted the help of young chef Daisy, who was happy to shell them for our lunch. Today’s recipe is an old favourite, using bits and pieces from the garden- broad beans, dill, and spring onions. It serves four, or three very greedy people, and is quick to prepare, once the beans are shelled, cooked, then peeled, the only tedious part.

Tagliatelle with Broad Beans and Smoked Salmon, serves four for a starter or 3 as a main course.

Ingredients

700 g young broad beans

25 gr butter

100 ml dry white wine

6 spring onions

a generous handful of dill

200 gs of Creme Fraîche or Cream

300 grams of egg pasta such as Tagliatelle

100 gr of smoked salmon cooking pieces. ( Smoked trout is also good)

Method.

Shell the beans. Bring a pot of water to the boil, then add beans, bring back to the boil then cook for a minute or so.

Drain, refresh with running cold water, and slip the beans from their outer skins.

In a large, heavy based pan, melt the better and add the chopped spring onions. Cook these for a few minutes, then add the wine. Reduce down to 2 tablespoons. Then add the creme fraiche or cream, lower heat and allow the mixture to thicken.

Bring a large pot of water to the boil and add salt. Cook the Tagliatelle for the required time. Before draining, scoop out one cup of the pasta cooking water. ( a good general habit). If the cream sauce seems thick and needs loosening, add a little pasta water, Season. Then stir through the broad beans and cut salmon bits. The salmon needs warming, not cooking. Add the drained pasta to the pan, toss about, adding the dill at this point. Serve in heated pasta bowls.

Vittorio the Vegie Man

Vittorio is from Sicily but has lived in Melbourne for most of his adult life. Like many other Italo- Australiani who migrated here in the 1950’s and 60’s, he is getting on in age. He is now 84 years old, is stooped and in pain but this doesn’t deter him from hardwork. In fact, it keeps him going.

He sells vegetable seedlings and plants at weekend and country markets which are grown under shade cloth in his inner suburban backyard. He nurtures thousands of seedling plants like children, each one individually tended and cared for.

They are strong and resilient- just like Vittorio himself. He speaks a crazy mixture of two languages- Sicilian dialect and Australian English. It’s a strange mixture, making conversation quite difficult, but we get by.

These tomatoe bushes were given to me as a Mother’s Day bunch of flowers. Why not mother’s day in November? Vittorio è un angelo.

Spring Soup – Tutto Fa Brodo

It was about twenty years ago. I was sitting in my first class of Italian B ( B standing for Beginners). I was terrified! The introductory class was mostly in English, sprinkled with bits of Italian here and there. The lecturer, Walter ( say this with a V ) suddenly planted an explosive seed in my brain when he said, ‘Tutto Fa Brodo’. This was an epiphanic moment, the lightning bolt: a simple Italian proverb that swept me into the wonderful world of Italian language and its culture. Tutto fa brodo literally means ‘everything makes soup’, or, ‘whatever you put in soup will work’, or metaphorically, ‘a little bit of everything is good for you’. Italian proverbs invloving food and wine are innumerable and often humourous, highlighting times of need, frugality and seasonality. When I gather bits and pieces from the orto, my vegetable garden, the mantra begins anew, ‘Tutto Fa Brodo, Tuttto fa Brodo’. No vegetable soup is ever the same. That’s the lovely thing about soup, the recipes are always so flexible. Use what’s on hand.

Today’s late Spring garden provides the last of the cavolo nero; it’s a bit woody and needs to be used, silver beet (chard), a perennial in the garden, early season broad beans, side shooting brocoli, leeks, spring onions and all sorts of herbs.

I always start with a little soffritto or quick fry of a few ingredients to give the soup a base on which to build. A typical Italian soffritto includes finely diced onion, celery and carrot. I often make one with garlic, anchovies and chopped rosemary, a little trick I learnt from Marcella Hazan years ago. As the anchovies melt, they give a salty earthiness to a soup. Of course they can be omitted.

This is not so much a recipe, but an ode to Spring in the form of soup. It’s so green, it makes you feel holy!

The Soffritto

3 or more garlic cloves, finely chopped.

1 small branch of rosemary, leaves stripped, finely chopped.

6 anchovies, chopped

3 tablespoons of Extra Virgin Olive oil.

Other soup ingredients.

2 leeks, finely sliced across, pale parts only. ( save other bits for stock)

2 waxy potatoes, eg Nicola or Dutch Creams, diced.

5 leaves Cavolo Nero or Tuscan Kale, remove centre stem if tough, then shred.

3 large leaves of silver beet, (chard) rolled then cut across finely. I like to include the stem.

a few handfuls of young shelled broadbeans,

fresh herbs such as parsely, oregano

salt, pepper to taste

vegetable stock cube, optional, or stock.

grated parmigaino, reggiano or grana padano

Method.

Heat the oil in a large heavy based saucepan. Add the anchovies, rosemary and garlic, stirring the whole time so that the anchovies melt. *
Then add leeks and potatoes, keep stirring, then the Tuscan kale and silver beet, keep stirring, then cover well with stock or water.
Cook on medium heat until the potatoes are soft and the greens are cooked but still vibrant.
Add the baby broad beans (no need to double shell the young ones).
Cook for a few minutes longer. Add more hot stock if you prefer a wetter soup. Taste. Add a stock cube if needed. Season. Add fresh herbs.
Stir through some grated parmigiano. Serve with more parmigiana at the table, along with some very good bread.

For a more substantial soup, you could also add tiny pasta shapes towards the end of cooking, for example risoni or orzo, cooked to the required time.

Artichokes, to eat or to decorate

It’s artichoke season and I can’t find many people who love to eat them as much as I do. Our resident Italian guest, Albé, dislikes them, and my numerous family members, whose visits usually require a mass catering event, or the raiding of the cellar for a reasonable bottle of vino, don’t enjoy them. Mr Tranquillo hates them intensely.

Back in 2000, our travels took us to Naples to visit the brother of my dear friend Olga. During that time, we were invited to lunch at the apartment of her cousins, right near the Galleria Umberto. The table was set impeccably, the hosts were gracious and also quite ancient. The whole event was ” molto elegante“. But we forgot to mention the most important thing- that we were vegetariani , and along with the language, age and cultural divides, this would become an embarrassing hurdle.

First course was a simple Pasta Napoli. We were going well. Then came the polpettini di fegato. Liver meatballs, lightly crumbed and sauted. Mio Dio! Other expressions, involving the Madonna also came to mind. Mr Tranquillo turned a lighter shade of green and then quietly mentioned his dietary issues. A whole ball of buffalo mozzarella landed on his plate as a substitute. I ate the liver balls, with some trepidation, but found them quite tasty and tried to focus on the concept of bella figura.* Along came the next course – scallopini di vitello, veal schnitzels, served with a simple green salad. I also ate these, and focused this time on the Dalai Lama: I was almost enjoying this meat fest. Mr Tranquillo once again sheepishly declined, and was offered a freshly prepared giant carciofo. Knowing how much he hates artichokes, but also feeling very embarrassed and quite uneasy about insulting our gracious hosts, I gave him THE LOOK which indicated, “You will eat every bit of that maledetto artichoke and you will look like you are enjoying it!” He ate it.

Back to the back yard and my giant artichoke plants. My dear friend Helen looked at them admiringly as I cut two long stems of artichokes from the bush, complete with their soft grey/green side leaves. She mused, décor or to eat, examining them carefully, whilst pondering a far more sensible question than that of Hamlet. Décor she decided. Well, I’ve done decorating with artichokes, and no more waxing lyrically about the plants’ architectural beauty. Today I plan to eat them, by myself, just me.

La ricetta per carciofi in memoria della mia cara amica, Olga D’ Albero Giuliani – Artichoke recipe in memory of my dear friend Olga.

Leave a small portion of the stalk and peel it. Prepare the artichokes by removing all the sharp spiky leaves, pulling them off, one at a time. When the plant looks much smaller and no sharp bits remain, cut off pointy top half then cut into quarters and remove all the hairy choke from the centre. Drop each one into acidulated water as you go. When all are ready, choose a heavy based pan, big enough to hold the prepared artichokes. Add extra virgin olive oil, garlic, sauté for a few seconds, then add drained artichokes. Sauté again for a minute or so, add some lemon juice, a little water, and salt to taste. Cover and cook on low heat, making sure that they don’t burn or catch, until tender. Eat out of the pan, if desperate, or if you can find some friends to share them with, add to an antipasti platter.

My friend Olga many years ago. I miss her every day. *** http://www.ozpod.com/yarra/books/share.html

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