We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Stay for lunch. It'd just be a bite, she said. Scraps, mainly. The manservant with the striped jacket came and went. He brought meaty moist proscuitto crudo slices and a dark rucchetta salad. Rich Venetian oxtail stew with slices of fried polenta. I like it best like that, said Marta Marzotto, heaping our plates. Slices off a huge pink Mortadella. You must have some of this, said Marta. A present from Pavarotti. The mortadella looked not unlike its donor, minus beard and teeth. There was a subtle chicken and lemon casserole. The most beautiful gorgonzola I'd ever seen. Entire, hacked open and voluptuously spilling out its creamy blue guts. The countess offered wine from an unlabelled bottle. A fine fruity white wine that was drunk even less than the food was eaten. We ate with massive, weighty cutlery made for real hands, and drank from Marta's fantastical colored goblets of Murano glass. Then a gloriously substantial coffee semifreddo. Have some more, said the countess generously, shovelling semifreddo on to my plate. It's warming up.
That is an Italian luncheon. Until halfway through the book when I decided to google her, I had thought that Marta was fictional. Nope. She befriended the author. While married to Count Umberto Marzotto, she managed a long affair with Sicilian artist, movie-maker and famous Communist Renato Guttoso who figures prominently in the book. A close pal of Picasso. Colorful people, adding a lot of life to life. La dolce vita, so different from life in Yankeeland.
Garum was a condiment made from the drippings of fermented fatty fish that was popular in Ancient Rome. Many of the anchovy-based condiments that we use today—including colatura di alici and Worcestershire sauce—can trace their development back to the popularity and flavor profile of garum.
They needed something tangy.
Italian, and European food in general, was bland stuff before Columbus' followers brought good plants from the New World. It is funny to me to imagine Asian food without peppers, especially chiles, but that's the history.
My list of some the imports to the Old World and Asia from Central and South America:
Maize (corn), potato, all squash (summer and winter squash, including pumpkin), all peppers, peanut, avocado, every kind of bean (except Fava), Sunflower, Cocoa (chocolate), Tomato, Pineapple, Papaya, Vanilla, Sweet Potato. Also, turkeys.
Of course, the New World brought plenty of good foodstuffs from the Old World: Most grains, cattle, sheep and goats, pigs, Strawberries, apples, Honey Bees, etc etc.
I learned from one of those Italian cuisine Youtubes that "fresh" pasta, ie still not fully dried and packaged, is a waste of money. The comment was that "You're paying extra prices just for the water weight."
Not a big fan of pasta, really, because it feels like filling, empty calories to me. Sure, rare exceptions like when in Italy. Come to think of it, though, I do eat Thai noodles about monthly in noodle soup or Pad Thai, so there's that.
The point remains, though, that pastas were invented for food storage, carb storage like dried beans. They are made to be dried. Sheesh, years ago Mrs. BD and I made fresh homemade lasagna with a pasta machine. Worth doing it once to see what it's like, but after that a waste of time.
It has an interesting and pleasant flavor. There is no alcohol in it. All you do is to put a splash into plain bubbly water, with some ice. Very refreshing.
When I grew up, "Italian food" meant various forms of wheat (no egg) pasta with red glop on top, and maybe meatballs or eggplant. That, plus pizza and Italian grinders. Also, Lasagna I guess, made from an American cookbook.
They don't make grinders in Italy, and their pizzas aren't any good in my view. (I gave up on them. American wood-cooked pizzas can be pretty good, though. Crust has to be half-burnt.)
This was because most of the Italian immigrants to America were from a poor southern Italy with Neapolitan food traditions. To tell the truth, I do not care too much for that stuff but I am willing to eat it if I am starving. I do like a good Pasta Fagiole but I can make the best one you have ever had, and I will have a Bolognese on Tagliatelle. Call me a food snob.
Our best Italian meals have been in Umbria, which is where Romans take dining expeditions by the busload - so they can drink and gorge on wild pig, and get a ride home. No good Italian food tastes wonderful without wine. If you're on the wagon, it's not so wonderful unless it includes truffles or Balsamic. They do not use much wine in their cooking because you are supposed to be sipping it as you eat. Wine is expected to be an accompaniment, blending in your mouth.
I had a fine Lasagna in Verona for lunch, in a sidewalk cafe near the Arena. No red sauce, heavy on the nutmeg which makes sense, given the history of being part of the Venetian Empire for a while. One Italian dish I really wanted to try in Italy was Vitello Tonnato - Veal with Tuna Sauce. Mrs. BD makes an excellent version, but somehow we missed it on our last trip. Also wanted to try their Chicken Liver with Balsamic, but missed that too. That's OK - food isn't everything - and we know some great Italian restaurants in NYC.
Serious chefs travel with a packet of their personal knives, but the all-purpose knife is the Chef's Knife, aka Cook's Knife. My chef friend only uses Gunter Wilhelm knives, but chefs are cooking all day.
I guess the high-carbon, high-maintenance ones are the best, but whatever. I like the ones with a curved blade so you can rock it when chopping garlic, parsley, etc. Maybe you only need two knives: a bread knife and a chef's knife.
You can sometimes find used high-carbon chef's knives on eBay.
Except for Blueberries. There is no reason to even think about this topic unless you want to lose weight, or unless the physiology is interesting to you. Fruit is a fine dessert because its main nutritional ingredient is sugars. Especially Fructose. There is nothing "healthy" about fruit or fruit juice.
Fructose is metabolized in a different way than is Glucose.
The very short story is this: All sugars are not created equal. Fructose is metabolized into fat. Glucose in moderate amounts is turned into glycogen for energy. Table sugar is Sucrose, which is metabolized first into its components of Glucose and Fructose.
It's a Primo. A platter like that is to serve at least 2 people, maybe 4. I can be an annoying stickler about Italian food but there is a tradition to it and a logic to it too.
A big bowl of pasta is not a meal and, in fact, it would be a terribly unwholesome meal. A small plate of pasta, like the Bolognese recipe (the correct recipe) featured today is an excellent Primo preceding a meat and vegetable course (the Secondo). Bolognese is a beef-flavored sauce. Some tomato sauce flavor. Typically, less sauce than shown in the photo.
Italians seem to reserve their 4-course meals (Antipasto, Primo, Secondo, Dessert - sliced fruit usually) for special occasions. It's just too much food and puts you to sleep.
However, when we are in a food paradise like Norcia, Mrs. BD and I do their 4-course dinner (around 1 pm is dinner there) we just order one plate per course and share so we get all the tastes. Restaurants don't mind that at all.
Main rule for pasta? Dump the wet undrained pasta into the pan with the sauce with the heat on, and swirl around. Add some pasta water if a sauce is too dry or not creamy enough.
The use of peanuts dates to the Aztecs and Incas. They supposedly made a paste out of them too. Wow. Another New World food that I missed on my list of European appropriations of native New World foods: Squash, corn (maize), all peppers, tomato, potato, sweet potato, beans, vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, avocado, cashew, walnut, etc.
That was Tiny Tim on Christmas Day. We got into a chat today at brunch with a Brit friend about Christmas Pudding.
Whether you like it or not (it's like Fruitcake), it is a necessary Brit tradition.
How to make it is below (recipe and video). Ideally served with flaming brandy, then something creamy on top. Funny thing about Christmas Pudding is that you can make it months in advance.
Even a year or two in advance. Just put it on a shelf. Even mice won't bother it.
One bottle vino Veronese, 1/2 cup sugar, some clove, cinnamon, nutmeg. Anise star, lemons, apples, skin, orange juice. Harvey’s Bristol Cream. Medium heat - don’t boil, for 20 mins. Slice of orange peel in glass for zest.
Not sure what Harvey's has to do with Venice, but whatever.
A friend tells me that this was James J. Hill's signature dessert.
4 eggs 2 cups milk 1 ½ cups sugar 1 tsp ginger 1 cup molasses ½ tsp cinnamon ½ cup butter melted 1 lb loaf of stale white bread, grated
Preheat oven to 350. Butter 9” x 13” baking dish thoroughly and set aside. In a large mixing bowl, beat eggs until light lemon color. Continue beating and gradually add milk, sugar, ginger, molasses, cinnamon and melted butter. Mix well. Add grated bread and stir until well mixed. Pour mixture into buttered baking dish and place dish in oven. Bake one hour, or until knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Spoon pudding into a serving dish and top with butterscotch sauce.
Butterscotch Sauce
4 tbsp. cornstarch ½ cup cold water 1 tbsp. sugar 2 ½ cups water 1 ¾ cup sugar 1 heaping tsp. powdered cocoa 5 drops vanilla extract 4 tbsp. butter
Dissolve cornstarch in cold water and set aside. In saucepan over medium heat, melt 1 tablespoon of sugar until browned to a golden color. Add water and remaining sugar. Bring to a boil and continue to boil for three minutes. Add cocoa, vanilla extract and butter. Stir to mix and simmer to a glaze. Slowly add cornstarch to boiling liquid and simmer until thickened.
I don't think the Irish in Ireland drink it. I think of it as a rare dessert treat, but one time I had it for breakfast at a shooting meet and I have never scored as well since then.
Britain is, rightly, not known for their cuisine. It's no wonder they prefer Indian cuisine. However, is there anything better than Roast Beast with Yorkshire Pudding?
This sandwich must feature thick, almost steaklike slices of aged cheddar. Cheddar cutlets, if you will. The aging adds tangy sharpness and a more crumbly rather than creamy texture. Then, a thick layer of Branston pickle, made from sweet gherkins, cauliflower, carrots, onions and rutabaga in a thick, sweet sauce which tastes somewhat like ketchup. We definitely don’t have an equivalent stateside, but plenty of supermarkets stock the most ubiquitous British foods — malt vinegar, Cadbury’s chocolate, tea biscuits and the like — and Branston pickle can often be found. Try the Indian store as a last resort, no joke.
I learned from one of those Italian cuisine Youtubes that "fresh" pasta, ie still not fully dried and packaged, is a waste of money. The comment was that "You're paying extra prices just for the water weight."
It has an interesting and pleasant flavor. There is no alcohol in it. All you do is to put a splash into plain bubbly water, with some ice. Very refreshing.
Pic is a Northern Italian classic: Veal Tonnato
Serious chefs travel with a packet of their personal knives, but the all-purpose knife is the 
Except for Blueberries. 
That was Tiny Tim on Christmas Day. We got into a chat today at brunch with a Brit friend about Christmas Pudding. 
One bottle vino Veronese, 1/2 cup sugar, some clove, cinnamon, nutmeg. Anise star, lemons, apples, skin, orange juice. Harvey’s Bristol Cream. Medium heat - don’t boil, for 20 mins. Slice of orange peel in glass for zest.
A friend tells me that this was James J. Hill's signature dessert. 