Chestnuts, chestnuts, chestnuts for lunch

Are we sick of chestnuts yet? As the last day of the month, castagna season is officially over, but I'm sure that the delicately flavored treats will continue to make a welcome appearance in roasted or candied form at least until the end of the year. Of course me being ME, I can't let October disappear without preparing an all-out, go-for-broke, antipasti to dessert chestnut feast, which is exactly what happened yesterday after clearing the last of the withering plants from the vegetable garden. There are no recipes because I was mixing, creating and improvising as the ideas popped into my head. All I can say is that we are so very VERY spoiled in this day and age to be able to shop for ingredients instead of starting from absolute zero. That would just take all the fun out of checking the weekly sale items.

First the antipasti: roasted chestnuts, smoked Trentino ham (speck) and preserved veggies. I don't bother with making a cross or "x" like most suggest and do a simple 3/4-inch slit down the flat side. Roast at 200°C about 30 minutes. The 3rd photo is my Messy Mont Blanc! Not having a meringue base, I dipped some ladyfinger cookies in cold espresso and lay them atop whipped cream. Made a quickie chestnut puree (chestnuts boiled with milk, sugar and vanilla then blended til smooth), spooned the cooled mixture into a plastic bag, snipped a corner and made a mound of squiggles over the coffee-soaked cookies.

Hand-rolled, hand-cut, homemade chestnut tagliatelle with smoked pancetta, chestnuts and porcini. There's no color contrast but all those earthy flavors together with some fresh thyme really came together nicely with some grated parmigiano on top. We inhaled this dish!

Braised rabbit with chestnuts, lardo (seasoned fatback), rosemary and honey. It sounds so simple, maybe even too simple (compared to a classic like Hasenpfeffer), but when we had something similar in Liguria, I was really enjoying the element of sweet surprise from a light touch of honey.

Where to find corzetti pasta stamps

If you don't have the convenient mobility of a set of wheels, you can train it to Chiavari and visit Franco Casoni at Via Bighetti 73. According to what I've read, he'll create a stamp to your specifications. But if you really want to see something extraordinary, I suggest that you seek out Pietro Picetti in Varese Ligure. His works are exquisite. Even the elite go there.

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Part of the reason for a weekend in Liguria was to find the wooden stamps to make corzetti or croxetti, those flat discs of pasta that come embossed with a design. The stamps are, in my opinion, one of those "absolutely must have" kitchen tools for devoted cooks here and abroad. It so happens that sometimes my enthusiasm for an object will grow to the point where I might lose some sleep over it, but it has never risen to a level where I turn into a complete goof. That day came when I walked into Mr. Picetti's workshop. My exuberance for meeting the man in person suddenly exceeded the boundaries of my mouth.

“Lei ho visto su youtube!!” (I saw you on youtube), I said in excitement. To which he replied, “Lei è giapponese?” (are you japanese?) There was a brief moment where I giggled because I was aware of the great interest that japanese visitors had taken in his stamps - I just didn't know right at that moment how recently they had been there. I tell Mr. Picetti that I'm from Hawaii, and was ready to babble away about how much I adore italian food and italian cooking until MotH cut in and stopped me short, of well....talking Mr. Picetti's ears off for the rest of the morning. I decided to focus my attention on the stamps that were on display.

The stamps are 2 and 5/8-inches in diameter (6.5cm) with the exception of a slightly smaller one (shown in the middle). It takes approximately 3 hours to complete a set. Each has a different design on both pieces, so that the surface of the pasta will display a uniqueness on either side. Mr. Picetti gets right to the heart of the matter when you enter, and this video shows exactly how it went when he explained the history of his handiwork and the process of using them to make croxetti at home. Pulling out a blueprint of precise sketches that looked like the head of one of those sleek racing hounds, he inquires if we know of Trussardi. The MotH perhaps, but I didn't have a clue. We learn that Trussardi restaurant had commissioned a special request and I look it up on the net. What do I find? A post by a japanese blogger who had visited Picetti earlier in the month, and right there was a photo of the Trussardi stamp! [If using google translate just be aware that the part "while eating leopard" should really be how it was raining in the morning then how it turned to hail while they were eating. Thank you Kat for being such a great translator on the fly!]

In the event of an error message, the video can be viewed here:
http://youtu.be/RtsuVMBLRkI

“Mai lavare!” he warns me - never wash them - because it'll ruin the finish of the wood. I guess that the best option would be to use a soft brush or moist cloth. As he was preparing to wrap my purchase, I asked him if he had a biglietto da visita - a business card - to which he responded with a warm smile and said that it was right there on my new stamp. You can find Mr. Picetti most likely during normal business hours, at Via Pieve 15 right behind the Red Cross building and next to a beauty treatment center. The cost? 25 euros. Well worth the care and skill that goes into making them.

A chestnut roast in Liguria

Having missed out on a few chestnut roasts earlier in the month, it was only natural that we find a ligurian sagra or sagre to make up for the lost fun. The region enjoys its own share of castagnate like everywhere else in Italy, and upon nearing our farmstay in Beverino (La Spezia), I spied 3 different announcements within minutes. All of them were scheduled for the following day, and so far the heavy rains up north did not follow us to the coast. We figured on checking out as many as we possibly could, buttons and belts permitting.

As it turned out, going to all of them isn't necessary if the goal is to have a taste of typical ligurian dishes. The menus were pretty much the same - pasta, polenta, grilled meats and a few local treats such as sgabei, castagnaccio and chestnut flour fritters. At the first village we didn't see much of anything that resembled a feast in the making until we stopped an elderly woman that was coming out of church after Sunday's mass. We asked her if there was to be a castagnata and in a flurry of hand gestures, she explained that the event was moved to a sheltered area because of the unstable weather. “Che cavolo!” (what the hell!) she exclaimed. The villagers were so looking forward to a castagnata the weekend before but the lousy rain! Funny hearing a sweet little old lady swearing like that, but fortunately for everyone there, it barely drizzled that afternoon. As a matter of fact, it was a nice cozy feeling while digging into plates of food in a tiny schoolhouse down the road.

Sgabei (s'gah-bay-ee) are simply fried pieces of dough sprinkled with a bit of salt. It came plain or filled with Nutella, I think. [Fern of Rapallo has a post on the Festa degli Sgabei.] There were chestnut flour fritters as well, served with or without fresh ricotta, and they were dense in texture but on the sweeter side. It was just the right amount of food to fuel up and after washing it all down with some red wine, we were ready to visit the Cinque Terre.

Testarda per i testaroli

Crossing over from Emilia-Romagna into Toscana on the A15, it suddenly became apparent that we were on low fuel (read: hungry). We were in the region of Tuscany that is known as the Lunigiana, an area for which I believe promises excellent seasonal dishes in the fall, and the town of Pontremoli seemed as good a place as any to stop in for a bite. Slow Food listed Trattoria "Da Bussè" as a likely answer for an afternoon snack (spuntino), but when we asked for a plate of cheese and salumi, we couldn't even get that. The daily menu was recited by voice, and the first word that caught my attention was testaroli. Testaroli? You mean those boiled pieces of skinny pancakes? (I did not say this to the waitress but I was already thinking that, okay, boiled pancakes qualifies for a snack, so there.) I ordered it.

The testaroli, as it turned out, was an absolute lick-your-plate-clean experience because the pesto that it came served with was incredibly delicious. How is it that pesto in that area of Italy always tastes better than anywhere else? The air or something? I failed to take a photo of the dish as it was so plain looking, but on every restaurant menu thereafter I was on the hunt for testaroli. With pesto, with walnut sauce, with any other condiment imaginable, you serve it I eat it. Testarda per i testaroli - stubborn for testaroli - and here I thought it would be nothing but a chestnut weekend.

This is the scope of me being a "testarda" when I want to eat like one. I just made this for lunch. All-purpose flour (tipo "00" in Italy), a good pinch of salt, and enough water to make a pastella, a batter that is neither too liquid (crepes) or too thick (real pancakes). Cook it on a hot griddle (cast iron is best) at about 1/8-inch thickness, without flipping it over. I've read that the side facing the griddle should turn a light brown color, but this won't happen with a nonstick pan unless you coat it with a little oil or butter. I skipped the oil and just left the testarolo in until it achieved a few brown spots. To cut: slice into 1½-inch strips then cut on the diagonal to achieve diamond shapes, about 3 inches in length. To serve: drop into lightly salted boiling water just long enough to soften and heat up. Drain and blend with prepared pesto. E' la morte sua.

Back from an extended chestnut weekend

When the visiting foreigners are long gone from the Cinque Terre and the color of the leaves begin to turn, Liguria's inland (entroterra) is a very peaceful area to visit in the fall. We arrived home late yesterday evening to the wet and the cold and the snow (already a lite dusting at the very top of the mountain!), but things will soon begin to warm up around here as I get to work on an all-chestnut menu. It was a thoroughly delicious mini-vacation for which local dishes of l'entroterra and the Lunigiana played a role, but I also gotta share the story about the man who thought I was japanese. More later...

American Donuts (and coffee)...in Milano

Mmmm...donuts.

If the weather could remain as beautiful as how it was yesterday in Milan, I could stand to go into the big city more often, especially for the occasional binge that is Homer Simpson's favorite breaktime snack. I was flipping through Pappa Mondo's ethnic restaurant guide to Milano when American Donuts caught my attention - get out! - I wish I had heard of them sooner. MotH had business to attend to in the center of town, so when he asked if I'd like to tag along, it was more husband-to-wife rhetoric than anything else.

I love this place!

Which pretty much sums up what I said straight out to the gal at the counter. What really threw me off was that everything was written in english, as if you had just stepped into a tiny shop off of Main Street in the USA. Shall we speak english? italian? how about both! The only type of donuts available are the yeast-raised variety, but they were really good with a scrumptious soft interior and no heavy coat of oily film on the outside.

The coffee center was another throwback to a familiar atmosphere as I haven't seen a Bunn setup since working at a bakery years and years ago. I tell you, it was an absolute kick to pour my own coffee (and yes it was as american-tasting as I can remember it ever being) into BIG, ceramic mugs. I love my espresso, adore my cappuccino, but nothing compares to that feeling when you heft a thick coffee cup to your lips. It's an emotion that equals to pure comfort, and the mugs are decorated in stars and stripes!

Donuts aren't the only thing on the menu so it was a bit of a shock to see a listing of other items on their website. And apart from the cheesecake, brownies, etc in the display case (all of which looked tempting), weekend brunches are said to be very popular so this gives me another reason to get breakfast in the city and power up for a full day of shopping. Reservations for brunch strongly advised.

Pizza Power Lunch

Rain, rain go away, Chicken Little wants to play.

Sunday was a total washout in terms of chestnuts and chickens, because when the person on the other end of the line in Piverone could not guarantee the scheduled Cursa dla Galina (Race of the Hens) due to inclement weather, I decided better to stay home and make pizza. Disappointment is one thing, but to be disappointed for a cancellation after 100 miles and 2 hours in the car is another. The last thing anyone needs is to see my feathers in a huff!

The bright side to all this was that yesterday was the one Sunday in the month when many of the major supermarkets were open for special business hours, making it a perfect antidote for a rainy weekend. I was set on putting chicken on my pizza, and ready-to-eat roasters in the hot deli case and some decadent cheeses saved the day.

On this pizza: mushrooms and gorgonzola piccante

The 808: chicken, pineapple, cilantro. The Fiesta: salsiccia piccante, red bell pepper, olives.

Castagnata in Coimo

There were so many local chestnut events this past Sunday that we could've done a veritable tour of festivals from as early as morning Mass and well into the night. But sometimes the only way to choose between them all depends on what's being served, aside from chestnuts naturally, and this time around the menu enticed us toward Coimo in the Verbania province of Piemonte. Here is where village bakers produce a very rustic-looking pane nero, a black (dark) bread that you can imagine being the epitome of solid sustenance during winter months of long ago, and I mean that in the most toothy way!

Coimo's castagnata is such a popular occasion that an impressive crowd of families were already present when we got there at noon. The two big draws are polenta and grilled meats - LOTS of it. Steaming yellow mounds of polenta were dished up in a variety of ways, and ribs, chicken and sausages sizzled over a makeshift grill that measured at least 15 feet long by 5 feet wide. On top of that, various stalls sold local food products. We picked up a round of black bread (plain) and a smaller one with nuts and raisins. This stuff is not made for a weak bite...it's a bread that demands a persistent jaw! Flavorwise it's very simple, maybe a tad on the salty side, with a slightly burnt taste. I'm thinking that it'll be great broken into chunks and served with a thick soup of beans and smoked ham shanks. The only item that I was not able to taste was a type of crepe or thin pancake called amiasc (ah-mee-ahsh). Made from a batter of both plain and buckwheat flour and water, it is cooked on a hot griddle and served with melted butter. Unfortunately it is something that you eat later in the afternoon and the 4pm hour was too late for us to stick around. All in all it was a well-organized castagnata, one that we wouldn't mind visiting again. http://www.castagnata.com

Sometimes bigger IS better

http://www.apple.com/displays

Especially when you're talking Apple. No, we did not get that beautiful setup above, although I clearly hinted to the MotH that it was the one I preferred. Pleeeease...that one! I must've spent a good 15 minutes in the Apple section alone, admiring that enormous screen from every angle and point of view. It's just gorgeous! Yet even if I were to be paid a measly 10€ for every sagra that I've written about, the lump sum still wouldn't be enough to afford it.

The funny thing is that the amount we've shelled out for our two dogs exceeds any Mac setup I could possibly desire. When my husband reads this at work I know he'll have a smug look on his face that says I told you so!

If you put a chestnut in your pocket...

It'll keep you from catching a cold. Naturally this is an italian old wives' tale but believe it or not, there's a chestnut in my pants or jacket pocket (tasca) every single day. So far, so good. What else would you expect coming from someone living in a chestnut forest?

But what would be even better is if this miracle chestnut could also do double-duty to ward off ear infections and other such minor illnesses in dogs. Make that sensitive westie dogs. No worries, there isn't anything that medication, supplements and visits to the vet can't clear up, but it would be so much easier to simply slip a chestnut in her pocket!

Pizza à gogo

Flour, salt, yeast, water. And a refrigerator full of leftovers that were threatening to host a microscopic colony if I didn't do something soon. Even the unopened pack of strawberries were rallying along with their organic compatriots - why do they always begin to get moldy as soon as you bring them home?

Recent soggy and glum weather wasn't doing us any favors, and the usual offset to cabin fever is a day of baking until I get all high and happy from the wonderful aromas enveloping every square inch of our home. Sometimes it's sweet rolls, sometimes it's bread or focaccia, but yesterday it was four 13-inch pizzas to last for lunch, dinner and breakfast in that order. Today, on the other hand, is nice and sunny so we're off on our 4-mile walk in the woods.

The Sud: grilled eggplant, 'nduja from Calabria, capers, tomatoes and mozzarella. Certainly not anything to do with the Nord.

The Persephone: the only way to explain this is that mushrooms grow above ground while beets grow below. Isn't that how Persephone split her time between earth and the depths of the underworld? Right now I'm hooked on eringi mushrooms sauteed in butter, garlic, thyme, white wine and sprinkled with a pinch of vanilla salt. In a word, sensuous. But couple those fungi with roasted beets and you have something...something that defies any sense of the term where everyday pizza is concerned. I put a scant amount of pizza sauce and mozzarella so as not to compete with Persephone herself.

The Fragodoro: strawberries (fragole) in balsamic and tomato (pomodoro) is nothing new across the pond (don't even think about it at a reputable pizzeria here) so I'm just going to say that it was "cute" but nothing to squeal about. The only fruit that I'll eat on pizza is pineapple with canadian bacon. At least MotH was nice enough to not spit the berries out.

Smoke-cured ham from Trentino is a gift from the gods. Praise the pig and dig in!

How do you like your chestnuts?

“I like mine roasted.”
“I like mine boiled.”
“I like mine with polenta taragna and sausages!”

Well, personally I like them steamed, but upon hearing that snippet of conversation between 3 elderly folk, I just knew that we had to sit down to our own meal of chestnuts...and soon. And since I've had Alto Adige's Törggelen tradition on my mind, this past Sunday saw a long and lazy feast of bratwurst, sauerkraut, speck, cornichons, black bread, cheese, mushrooms and other delicious bites on the table. To drink, a bottle of Teroldego, and in the end we were stuffed like chestnuts in a roasted goose.

Just for starters...sweet, salty, tangy, hot (the horseradish) flavors all on one plate.

These are purchased potato and buckwheat flour gnocchi. Firmer than the usual potato-based ones, with a solid, whole-grain taste from the buckwheat. Half served with meat ragu (beef) and half with brown butter and sage.

This was an experiment with eringi mushrooms as I have never seen them in the produce section before. Sauteed in butter, shallots, thyme and white wine until softened and fragrant. I had this sudden idea that vanilla and mushrooms would work well, and it does with Halen Môn's vanilla sea salt sprinkled on top.

Entirely different from yeast-risen krapfen/bomboloni pastries, this version is like fried pockets of sweet pastry dough with chestnut paste in between. They are GREAT! I'm still working on a recipe that suits my taste, and then there's the Mont Blanc dessert to deal with.