Measuring - italian style

My first attempts at trying to decipher recipes written in italian was a bit of a wreck. I already knew that I would need to start thinking in metric amounts, but apart from learning cooking terms, the idea of adding a spoon of (aggiungete un cucchiaio di), a glass of (un bicchiere di), or as needed (quanto basta/q.b.) was something entirely foreign to me. Is there no such thing as measuring utensils?

There were two kitchen 'must haves' that I brought over with me: a 1-cup dry measure and a set of measuring spoons. These, I've found, weren't necessary in the italian kitchen as there are everyday items with which to measure small amounts. If you need a liquid cup of something, one uses a bicchiere or italian drinking glass (not to be confused with the tall american tumblers). The amount equals to just about 8 fluid ounces. Mezzo bicchiere means half a glass, therefore, half cup. Un bicchiere e mezzo equals 1½ cups. *When cooking with wine, I like to fill up a glass, use whatever amount necessary, then drink the rest! A recipe requiring a larger amount of liquid is measured in liters. As for smaller quantities, in both dry and liquid ingredients, one uses a cucchiaio (soup spoon) or a cucchiaino (coffee spoon). The soup spoon is equivalent to 1 tablespoon whereas the coffee spoon equals to 1 teaspoon. If measuring dry ingredients, keep it rounded, not leveled. I have never come across any recipe requiring a 1/8, 3/8, 5/8, or 7/8 of anything, but I suspect that the style of cooking here is to round things off. Easy!

Speaking of spoons, remember the Mary Poppins tune?
Just a spoonful of sugar and the medicine goes down...
the medicine goes down...
the medicine goes down...

In italian, the literal translation would be:
Solo un cucchiaio di zucchero e la pillola va giu'
la pillola va giu'...
la pillola va giu'...

But when actually sung in Italy it goes like this:
Basta un poco di zucchero e la pillola va giu'...
la pillola va giu'...
la pillola va giu'...

Enough a little of sugar and the pill goes down...

You say tomato, I say tamarillo

This photo does not do justice to the actual fruit, whose color looks more like a deep purplish red. I found these at IPER supermarket ($6 for the two) about 10 days ago and had been wondering what to do with them until I found a curious recipe for tamarillo ratatouille. Bitter is the first word that immediately came to mind upon biting into a raw slice. And it left a slightly sour aftertaste on the tongue. To remedy, I just added a bit of dark brown sugar to round out the flavors and it went really well with the roasted free-range chicken and patatine da forno (tiny oven potatoes).

Tamarillos, also known as tree tomatoes, are relatively new in world markets as this is the first time I've seen them here in Italy. It's a good thing that italians in general, love to eat fruit and are open to any new and unusual flavors (litchis are quite popular for example). I am only too pleased that the exotic imports are available to satisfy my fruit lust...

Spaghetti with bottarga and radicchio

One of my ongoing kitchen experiments includes trying different spaghetti recipes, ranging from the simplest to the most unusual. The original idea was to someday open up a spaghetteria (spaghetti eatery) and offer 50 tasty variations on our favorite pasta, but now it's become more of a way to get creative with the weekly menu.

At this point I will also admit to liking bitter greens, whether it be mustard greens, arugula, or radicchio — a ruby-colored, lettuce type of vegetable which I've always associated with italian cooking. Radicchio seems to be found, or otherwise grown, in the northeastern region of Veneto. There are so many varieties on the market, I couldn't resist trying several of them in a few recipes, and the following is quick and easy to make.

The image shown below is of bottarga di muggine - the salted, dried roe sac of the mullet fish. It doesn't come cheap at 99.00 euros/kilo (about $60.00/pound), but you need only a couple of ounces. I tried a recipe in an italian food magazine which called for the use of bottarga, leeks, and radicchio, which to my surprise was really good. Now it's become one of our regular pasta dishes; the saltiness of the bottarga contrasting with the mild onion flavor of the leeks and the slightly bitter taste of the radicchio.

Spaghetti with bottarga and radicchio  serves 4
Ingredients:
320 grams (11 oz.) spaghetti
2 heads radicchio
1 leek
40 grams (1 1/2 oz.) bottarga di muggine
1 dl (1/2 cup) white wine
salt and pepper

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil, lightly salt the water and cook spaghetti according to instructions or until al dente.
2. Rinse and slice the white part of the leek into rounds, discarding the dark green leaves. Rinse and chop the radicchio crosswise into 1/2-inch
strips. Cut the bottarga into thin slices.
3. In a large pan over medium heat, lightly saute the leeks in a little bit of olive oil, add the radicchio and continue to cook for about 3-5 minutes. Stir in the wine and allow to evaporate. Add the bottarga and season to taste with salt and pepper. Remove from heat.
4. Drain the spaghetti and toss with the cooked vegetable/bottarga mixture. Serve hot with a drizzle of good olive oil over the top.
***An image of the final dish.

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At the very top: Radicchio Treviso
I prefer this for the spaghetti recipe, but the Veronese type is ok too.

Above: Radicchio Veronese
Used this in risottos, farrottos, and grilled.

Left: Radicchio Variegata
Tender leaves [click image to enlarge] with a nondescript flavor. Wilts quickly if not used immediately.

That's one funky looking fruit!

Once again I'm amazed to have found yet another tropical fruit in the large supermarkets — and this time it's the Pitahaya, or Dragon Fruit. The price was a little high at 12.90 euros/kilo (about $8.00/pound), but I still had to try it anyway! Slice the fruit in half and the interior is a white color with tiny black seeds. The texture resembles kiwi fruit with a flavor that I can only describe as bland. Maybe it was the fruit itself (or maybe it's just me?), but there wasn't much of a distinctive sweetness that I could taste.

It is interesting to note that these are being shipped in from Thailand, whereas in the islands, you pretty much get tropical fruit from your own backyard, if not someone else's. An unusual thing to see is from where some of these incredible edibles originate: pomegranates from Israel, mangos from Brazil, persimmons from Spain, dates from Tunisia. So far, I've been fortunate to come across a few of my favorites: sweet apple bananas, coconuts (already husked), mangos, avocados, lychees, passion fruit, papayas, and pineapples! I would dare say that the quality does not rival the fruit that I can find in Hawaii (this goes for the mangos and papayas), but for the most part, the imported fruit is good enough for my palate.

CASSOEULA (kah-soh-OO-lah)

The main reason why I'm posting the recipe to this dish is because I'm sure it's something that my family in Hawaii would like. It contains pig's feet — and what immediately comes to mind is the pickled pig's feet that my mom occasionally cooked for dinner. The two aren't anything alike however, since casseoula (or cazzoeula), is a heavy pork and cabbage stew from the region of Lombardia. This past Sunday I ate this for lunch, as my mother-in-law made her version of cassouela without the pig's feet, using extra pork skin (cotenne) instead. My husband claims the only way to eat this dish is when it's piping hot, with polenta. Personally, I would go for hot white rice...but then that's just the 'local' in me.

Cassoeula serves 4-6
Ingredients:
1 pig's foot
butter
olive oil
1 lb. pork sausage, sliced into 1/2-inch rounds
1 lb. pork ribs
1/2 lb. pork skin, cut into bite-size pieces
1 medium onion, diced
2 carrots, chopped
2 stalks celery, chopped
2 large, ripe tomatoes, chopped
3 lbs. savoy cabbage, cut into strips and rinsed
salt and pepper

1. Place the pig's foot in a large pot of water; cover and bring to a boil, allowing to boil for 45 minutes. Skim off the foam that accumulates on top. Drain and set aside.

2. Melt a bit of butter together with a little olive oil in a large stewing pot. Brown all of the meats, including the pig's foot. Add the onions and saute until golden brown.* Add the carrots, celery, and tomatoes. Continue to cook over medium-low heat for another 20 minutes. Add the cabbage; salt and pepper to taste; and cook for another 40 minutes, stirring occasionally to keep from scorching. You can add a little water if it gets too dry. Serve with polenta (or white rice).

3. *At the point when the onions are golden brown, you can add a splash of italian grappa, cognac, or 1/2 cup of wine if you like.

Among Autumn Leaves

photo titled:  Among Autumn Leaves

I was able to get the image above by climbing onto a stonewall that was next to the tree. It was an odd sensation to be there among the gold-colored leaves, because as a kid in the islands, I would scamper up flowery plumeria or fruit-laden mango trees... which is another thing altogether. To really understand the contrast though, you need to see this photo of my husband climbing a coconut tree in Hawaii. A silly act done in jest, but for him it was something that he could tell the folks back in Italy. Mamma! Look! I'm climbing a coconut tree!