Foods For When things Are Tight, Thoughts About Varietals and More: Being the 142nd issue of Cosa Bolle in Pentola

Greetings! This week I've been thinking about Bollicine, Bubbles, which those in Franciacorta would like to have us associate exclusively with their sparkling wines, but that can actually be applied to just about any kind, including Prosecco and Gavi. On the IWR I've just posted my complete tasting notes for the bollicine I tasted this fall at Spumantia, a fascinating event held in Viareggio (on the Tuscan coast). On Italian Food, a variety of recipes, which are mentioned in the blog entries from the home page, http://italianfood.about.com.

More about Italian Incomes
Returning to Cosa Bolle, Scott, who is trying to compare Italy and the US in light of the income figures I gave last time, sent me a note asking about taxation. I'll have to do a bit of research, but the quick and dirty answer is that the figures I gave are net, after taxes.

As for taxes, if the worker is a dependent they are withheld (from what I understand; I am not a tax person); professionals instead have to make payments, and the primary income tax, which is called IRPEF, is on a sliding scale, ranging from 23% for those earning up to 26,000 Euros, to 43% for those earning more than 75,000. If you are a dependent worker the company you work for also makes payments into INPS, the pension system (the payment for dependent workers is about 9%, and is detracted from taxable income). I'm not sure how pension plans for professionals work, nor what the percentage they pay is, but they again pay directly.

The other thing self employed professionals have to do is take out a an IVA (value added tax) number and include the IVA in every bill they emit, paying what they have collected quarterly to the State (people can and do get squeezed if the billee hasn't paid yet by the time the VAT comes due). VAT is collected for anything that's paid for, and varies depending upon what one is paying for; for most foodstuffs (and primary non-luxury homes, among other things) it's 4%, for many necessities, including electricity, it's 10%, for most professional services it's 20%, and it's higher for luxury items, for example jewelry or villas. The bottom line, a friend who does PR work for wineries as an independent professional (with IVA number) told me, is that if she wants to take home 5 she has to charge 10.

There are some local taxes, for property, garbage, watershed protection, and so on, but they are relatively low, certainly much lower than the State income taxes one has to deal with in the US. And then there is the gasoline/kerosene tax, which I shouldn't mention but will because it affects everyone: Much of the roughly 8 dollars a gallon of gasoline costs in Italy goes to the government. A percentage of this windfall is earmarked for the road network, but I'm not sure anyone knows where the rest of it goes.

One thing we don't have which Scott counted as an additional expense, is health insurance: Italy has socialized medicine, which means part of our tax bite goes into the Ministero della Sanità, and we get care back. When we have needed the system it has worked fine, and I will stop now before I become polemical.

Foods For Tight Days
As if the news week about how little the majority of Italians bring in every month weren't enough, yesterday ISTAT, the State's statistics office announced that the salaries of dependent workers have stayed just about flat for the past 6 years. Since prices certainly haven't been flat over the past 6 years, this means that most people's purchasing power has declined drastically, and this brings us to Olindo Guerrini (1845 - 1916), who is best known for a collection of poems entitled Postuma (Posthumous) that he published under the pen name Lorenzo Stecchetti in 1877, attributing them to a cousin who'd died of consumption. The book comments scathingly upon the political issues of the times, such as sending farmers to struggle and die in Colonial Africa rather than practice agrarian reforms at home, and casts a penetrating glance at the social customs as well. It raised a scandal and was immediately attacked as erotic and blasphemous; more recently people have decided it's enjoyable. If you're curious, you'll find the text several places, including http://www.rodoni.ch/busoni/bibliotechina/stecchetti.html.

But Postuma isn't why we're here. Rather, shortly before his death in 1916 Olindo Guerrini finished a manuscript entitled L'Arte di Utilizzare Gli Avanzi della Mensa (The Art of Recycling Leftovers), which was published under his own name in 1918. He covers all the major kinds of foods, some of which he felt more promising (as leftovers) than others. For example, he's enthusiastic about the possibilities offered by leftover firm-fleshed boiled or grilled white fish, but thinks leftover small fish, especially when stewed, for example Alla Livornese (with a zesty tomato sauce) is best suited to becoming "the joy of the cat."

One of the best represented foods is beef, and specifically boiled beef. Mr. Guerrini justifies this by saying, "the habit of eating soup, which some say is responsible for the decadence of the Latin races, makes broth necessary, broth that can only be obtained by boiling meat… families driven by need or taste to consume broth frequently are condemned to a lifetime of boiled meat."

The word I translated as "need" is actually hygiene in the Italian, and is a reference to the fact that doctors commonly prescribed broth for those with weak constitutions. I used need because the other reason (which Mr. Guerrini doesn't mention) behind the commonness of boiled meat a century ago was economic: meat was a luxury, and the most those who weren't well off could afford, especially if they wanted to eat meat more than once a week, was the cheapest cuts, which included those from older, tougher animals suited to boiling.

A Few Suggestions, but first a couple of words:
Mr. Guerrini's recipes are by modern standards incomplete; he goes largely by eye and assumes the reader will have a good enough cooking sense to bridge the occasional gap or jump in his instructions. On the other hand, when one is cooking with leftovers, one works with what one has. I have filled fleshed things out some, but feel free to adapt the recipes as you see fit.

Lesso col Risotto
Clean gristle and fat from 1 kilo (2.2 pounds) of boiled beef (if you also have roast beef, so much the better) and cut it into pieces the size of a walnut. Heat a half cup of unsalted butter and 2 ounces of finely chopped cured lard [if you cannot find cured lard use fatty pancetta] in a deep saucepan. Peel an onion, quarter it, and cook it, turning the pieces about in the fat until they are nicely browned but not burned. Remove and discard them, and add the boiled beef. Stir well and simmer the meat for 15 minutes in the drippings, stirring occasionally. Pour 1 1/2 quarts (1.5 liters) of boiling broth over the meat, and stir in a pint (2 cups, or 1/2 liter) of good rice [he doesn't say which; I might go with Roma or Rive rather than a really short-grained rice]. Cover and cook, taking care lest the rice stick and burn, until the rice is done, by which time the dish will be almost dry.

If you want, you can add a little saffron, a grating of fresh nutmeg, or some freshly ground pepper to the rice as it cooks. And, come time to serve it, Mr. Guerrini says to sauce it with meat sauce, or tomato sauce, or whatever else you prefer -- he doesn't say how much, but you'll want at least a cup, and perhaps more -- and then to add a handful of freshly grated Parmigiano, and mix well.

Lesso Colla Crosta (Au Gratin) - Boiled Meat with Crust
Here you'll need a serving dish that can stand up to heat, because you'll be serving the meat where you cooked it.

Heat thin slices of pancetta sufficient to line the bottom of the serving dish (you don't want to really fry them, rather just heat them) and line the dish. They will serve to grease the bottom of the dish and add flavor to the drippings. If you don't have pancetta, make due with a bit of broth, or some butter and a little water. Coarsely chop some fresh mushrooms, or steep and chop some dried mushrooms, and sprinkle the pieces over the bottom of the pan, together with finely chopped onion and parsley, and -- if you like it -- garlic. Cover the mixture with finely ground dry bread crumbs seasoned with salt and pepper, and lay slices of boiled beef (I'd figure 1/4-1/2 inch or 3/4-1.2 cm) over the bread crumbs. Cover the slices of beef with another layer of pancetta, mushrooms, bread crumbs, and so on, and moisten everything with a little broth to which you have added some white wine or rum, if you like. Heat over a gentle flame, and when the dish is heated through well run it under a broiler to brown the top.

Note: Mr Guerrini, who was writing before broilers (even now they are uncommon in Italy) says to cover the pot and put hot coals on the lid to apply heat from above. This technique of applying heat from below and above, called fra due fuochi (between two flames), was common and you often find it in older Italian cookbooks.

Fritto di Avanzi di Manzo Lessato - Fried Leftover Boiled Beef
"This is a variation on many other recipes, but I include it because of its simplicity," he says. Slice and onion and sauté it in butter in a sauce pot. Cut your leftover boiled meat into pieces the size of a hazelnut, add them, season everything with salt and pepper, and continue sautéing for 15 minutes. Serve piping hot.

If you want a more flavorful dish, add several blanched, peeled, seeded and chopped tomatoes, some hot wine, rosemary needles, sliced boiled potato, etc, at which point you'll have roughly a fritto alla cacciatora, which will want to be well peppered and should not be swimming in liquid. If the beef is too firm, marinate it before adding it to the pot.

Lesso Fritto Con Le Cipolle - Boiled Meat Fried with Onions
This is quite similar to the above: Slice two or three onions, and sauté them in butter over a gentle flame until golden. Add the beef, finely sliced, a clove of garlic, and season with salt and pepper. Cook over a brisk flame, and when the meat is heated through and steaming finish it with a good dusting of minced parsley and some lemon juice.

This dish has many variations. You can use lard or olive oil instead of butter, and can also add potatoes, wine, or other herbs and spices. It is also more flavorful if you add a few blanched, peeled chopped tomatoes, before you add the meat because they take longer to cook than it does to heat.

And finally, something summery:

Lesso Freddo Alla Giapponese - cold Boiled Meat Japanese Style
What this has to do with Japan is beyond me, but that's what Mr. Guerrini calls it:
Simmer a number of peeled potatoes in broth until a skewer penetrates easily, slice them, and season them while they're still hot with olive oil, salt, pepper, and vinegar, followed by a half glass of strong wine. Dice your boiled meat and put the pieces in the middle of a serving dish, arranging the potatoes in a ring around them. Finely slice a truffle over all, let the salad rest for a few hours, and serve it chilled.

"It's obvious," he says, "that in this recipe and others that call for them are not a requirement, though they do a fine job of adding class and flavor to leftovers."

If you omit the truffle the last recipe will be frugal, as will the others, and given the times this is a good thing.

Varietals Lost, and Varietals Found
Winding down, some thoughts on varietals. If you're interested in agricultural history, you probably know that wine as we know it now was almost wiped out in the mid-late 1800s. Not intentionally; Europeans have always taken vines with them when they travel, and brought them home as well. So long as the travel within Europe this was good. However, in the early 1860s a shipment of American vines was delivered to the banks of the Rhône, where they were planted and did very well. Then, a curious thing happened: Nearby European vines sickened and died.

The blight spread inexorably, quickly where soils were moist and more slowly where they were sandy or the climate dry, until all of Europe was under its pall and somewhere between 60 and 90% of the vineyards had been wiped out.

Botanists soon understood what was wrong -- the roots of the American vines were infested by a lymph-sucking aphid called phylloxera, which they were able to tolerate, but that was fatal to European vines. Devising a solution, however, took time.

The simplest, to replace the European varietals with American varietals, was unacceptable because the wines made from American grapes are very different, and (to European palates) vastly inferior. Then a French botanist had an idea: Why not graft the vulnerable European vines onto American rootstock that's immune to the bug?

The idea worked, and now, with a few exceptions, all the grape vines in Europe (and most everywhere else) grow on American rootstock. Of course it didn't happen overnight, and this brings us to Predappio, in Romagna: I was having dinner with several other journalists at the Vecia Cantin D'La Pré (which I heartily recommend), when we were joined by Giuseppe Nicolucci of the Azienda Casetta Dei Mandorli. We were talking about the differences between Tuscan and Romagnan Sangiovese-based wines when he said, "Of course you know just about all Tuscan Sangiovese is actually Romagnan."

I looked at him -- I may not be Tuscan, but I live in Tuscany, and the faces of a great many Tuscan producers proudly discussing the merits of their "strictly autochthonous" Sangiovese flipped through my mind.

"Yes," Mr. Nicolucci continued, saying one of the first Italians to learn how to graft European vines to American roots was a Romagnan named Angelo Sansoni, known as Esciop, the gun, because he was so quick with his hands: With the help of a couple of assistants, who handed him the materials, he replanted vineyard after vineyard in Romagna, and also worked extensively in both Chianti Rufina and Chianti Classico, planting cartload after cartload of Sangiovese vines from Romagna.

This was of course several generations ago by now, and has faded from memory. However, if the vines gave good results they, or cuttings propagated from them, are still there. In short, the pedigree of some of the finest Tuscan Sangiovese vines may not be as pure as we think it is.

Hearing about Esciop set me to thinking: Italy now boasts more grape varietals than any other country in the world. Some are outstanding, e.g. Sangiovese and Nebbiolo, some are excellent supporting actors who complement the stars (and are called uva complementari for this reason, for example Canaiolo, Colorino, or Negrara), and the vast majority are simply there, growing untested and unevaluated in old vineyards. Some of this unevaluated majority may be superb, and some may not, but it was all good enough that someone in the distant past thought it worth grafting onto American root stock.

I can't imagine how rich and varied the Italian ampelographic (a fancy word meaning the classification of grape vines) panorama must have been before phylloxera wiped almost everything out. Actually, I take that back:

During my trip to Romagna we visited La Sabbiona, a winery not far from Faenza that is bringing back from the brink of extinction a varietal known as Sauvignon Rosso. Not Cabernet Sauvignon, which is a cross between Cabernet Franc and Sauvignon Blanc, but a red Sauvignon that survived the phylloxera outbreak thanks to a guy known as Centesimino, who liked the vine enough to plant it in a pot on his balcony. There it survived, until the folks at La Sabbiona heard about it, and were intrigued enough to try propagating it, grafting it onto American rootstock, and planting a vineyard of it. Since the name Sauvignon Rosso is used as an alternate name for some other Italian varietals, they registered it as Centesimino, and now some other wineries are beginning to take an interest in it as well.

And well they should; La Sabbiona's first few vintages were variable, with some wine that was very good and some that was nondescript, and then they realized that the good wines came from cold falls and tried cooling the must during fermentation, a practice used to maintain the freshness of the bouquet that's more generally associated with white wines. The result is most impressive:

La Sabbiona Sauvignon Rosso IGT Ravenna 2006 is deep ruby and has an eye opening bouquet that unleashes an extraordinary blast of black currants and gooseberries mingled with black currant jam and some strawberries. It's got the same sort of impact one gets from a Rosenmuskateller, combining great power with seductive grace. On the palate it's rich, and fairly sweet, with powerful black currant fruit supported by smooth sweet tannins that gain direction from some India ink and graphite bitterness, while the finish is long and clean. It's an extraordinary discovery, of the sort you'll be happy to serve friends who don't mind conversation grinding to a halt and people concentrate on what's in their glasses.
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This wine is aged in steel. There's also a Centesimino that goes into oak:
La Sabbiona Rifugio Ravenna IGT Rosso 2004 is deep black cherry ruby with brick rim. The bouquet is fairly intense, with black currant fruit supported by cedar and airy sea salt with some greenish vegetal notes and spice. Very nice, though it doesn't have the explosive impact of the 2006 Sauvignon Rosso -- If I hadn't tasted the other first I would have been very impressed, and as it was I was nodding my head. Grows nicely in the glass, too, with the fruit gaining in intensity. On the palate it's full and rich, with powerful black currant fruit supported by deft sweet tannins that gain direction from India ink bitterness, and flow into a rich black currant finish. Most impressive, and perhaps a little better balanced on the palate than the unoaked wine, which is instead more opulent. But both are captivating and fascinating, and well worth a detour if you're a wine lover and happen to be visiting Romagna. For that matter, La Sabbiona also has a nice agriturismo.
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Bottom line: In Italy, we think we're rich, enologically, and we undoubtedly are. But we don't know what we lost thanks to phylloxera. Nor, for that matter, do any of the other European countries with longstanding winemaking traditions.

This time's proverb is from Bassano Romano, in Lazio, and is earthier than some: Pe' cchi nun se ccontenta da' zzinna da' vacca, c'è quilla do' toro - For those unsatisfied by the cow's udder, there's always the bull's (ahem). In other words, be happy with what you have.

A presto,

Kyle Phillips
Editor, The Italian Wine Review
http://www.italianwinereview.com
Want to comment? Drop me a line at Kyle@cosabolle.com

PS -- Please forward this to anyone you think would enjoy it! If you would like to read past issues (nothing in them really gets stale), you'll find recent ones at Cosa Bolle.Com, http://www.cosabolle.com, and older ones at http://italianfood.about.com/blbol.htm.