This has been a busy several weeks, and I am also dealing with Dread Swine Flu, which isn't an excuse for tardiness though it does provide some sort of explanation. To begin with, a number of additions to the Italian Wine Review: Barolo, Barbaresco, Gavi, and Bolgheri. All sorts of wines, some of which are well suited to the upcoming Thanksgiving for those living in the US.
On Italian food, instead, I have continued to work on the Galleria delle Verdure (we're up to 84 shots as of today) and have also done a quick article on white and red cabbage, what Italians call Cavolo Cappuccio. And posted a number of recipes. In short, lots of writing since last time.
And now, for something I haven't done before: A reprint. During the period between when I stopped posting issues of Cosa Bolle on Italian food and started posting them on the Cosa Bolle blog, I wrote a long piece on olive oil that seems quite apropos now, seeing that we're in the midst of the olive harvest in Tuscany, and those with olive groves (or even just trees in their yards) are spreading parachutes under the trees and picking them prior to carting them off to the presses. So here we go:
Olive Oil: Tasting and Thoughts on Quality
The Fattoria di Morello is a pretty estate on the flank of Monte Morello, the mountain northwest of Florence that Florentines use as an impromptu weather service (Se Monte Morello Mette il Cappello, Fiorentin Prende L'Ombrello, If Monte Morello Dons his Hat, The Florentine grabs his Umbrella). Rather than make wine, they have about 15,000 olive trees and make an excellent oil eagerly sought out by connoisseurs the world over. A few years ago they held a conference entitled Incontro con l'Olio Nuovo, Meeting the New Oil, which examined the relationships between terroir and technological advancements in the production of quality olive oil.
We were given a fair number of statistics, for example that 90% of the world's olive groves are in the Mediterranean Basin, primarily in Greece, Italy, Spain, and Tunisia, and that 60% of all olive oil produced is of European origin. The per capita consumption in Greece is 20 kilos (this is about 20 liters), in Italy it's 12, though more oil is consumed because the population is higher, and Spain is catching up with Italy; in other parts of the world consumption is considerably lower -- 400 g/person -- but increasing: per capita consumption has doubled worldwide, and tripled in the US, Japan, and Northern Europe.
It also turns out that much of what the rest of the world consumes is funneled through Italian olive oil processing plants that procure from a variety of sources, mix, and resell. Unfortunately, a huge percentage of this oil is extravirgin, in other words, its acidity is less than 1% and it has been tasted by a panel of experts who (presumably) say it's free from obvious defects.
I use the words "unfortunately" and "presumably" because though extravirgin oil is supposed to be the best, it varies tremendously in price, from 3 to 30 Euros/liter (in Italian supermarkets), and it's quite obvious that what costs 3 Euros is going to be very different from what costs 30. The former will be made primarily from imported oils, cut as an industrialist sees fit, and will likely be quite bland, whereas the latter will, one hopes, be made from olives picked in an individual grove somewhere in Italy -- most likely Tuscany, though Umbria, Liguria, and Lake Garda are also famed for their oils, and likely be quite flavorful.
Something is seriously amiss when two very different products are being sold with the same name, and the obvious solution would be to tighten the criteria an oil need meet to qualify as extravirgin -- there would be a lot more virgin oil (which is perfectly adequate for cooking) and only what really is superior (and is best used as a condiment) would be extravirgin.
Alas, any attempt to demote the cheap extravirgin oil to virgin status would meat with tremendous political resistance on a pan-European scale, and therefore the more practical solution would likely be to create something superior to Extravirgin, along the lines of the Laudemio consortium that many of the top Tuscan olive oil makers belong to. Its requirements are more stringent than those for Extravirgin oil; oils that qualify have the word Laudemio on the label, and are bottled in a distinctively shaped bottle that does stand out.
The statistics were interesting, and they do trace a path one hopes the legislature will follow to help producers differentiate and define their products.
The most interesting, and most sobering part of the conference, was Marco Mugelli's speech. He's a world-renowned expert on olive management and olive oil production, and began by saying that as a whole olive oil extraction is a low-yield proposition: The best one can do is about 18% (a kilo of olives yield 180 g of oil), and this with techniques that allow oxidation of the oil during the pressing -- a significant part of the oil in an olive is trapped between membranes composed of sugars, and to free it the olive presser oxidizes the sugars, and as a result exposes the oil to oxidation.
There is another technique that doesn't collect this "trapped" oil; since there's no oxidation the resulting oil is distinctly superior (Mr. Mugelli says the two kinds are not comparable), but the yield is so much lower that the technique is not used.
The problem with the high production philosophy, Mr. Mugelli says, is that though the oil can be of high quality if the olives were picked and handled with care and carefully pressed, the technique masks the differences attributable to different production areas and cultivars.
In other words, high quality oils now being made in various parts of the world, for example Chile, Tuscany, and Greece, closely resemble each other. To drive the point home, the organizers of the conference called a recess during which they set up a blind tasting featuring oils from Tuscany (Fattoria di Morello), Sardinia, Spain, Puglia, Greece, Chile, California, and Argentina. One was slightly off, but I found the rest to be quite good and quite similar, to the point that I would have been guessing had I tried to say where they were from. I am not a trained oil taster, so this is perhaps not a complete surprise, but a number of the participants at the conference (primarily journalists and agronomists) do specialize in olive oil, and they had a tough time too -- one guy identified Tuscany, Sicily, and Sardegna, and then stopped, while Mr. Mugelli also identified Spain because he consults for the producer and recognized the cultivar.
Some people identified others, but nobody got them all. It was a sobering experience, and provides a fine argument for adopting the low-yield technique for the best oils, which would therefore be much richer and more distinctive. One would have to establish a new classification to distinguish them from the current extravirgin oils, but it would be worth it.
Establishing a new high-quality oil is something for the future. What does this tasting mean now, for the average consumer? Buy olive oil with care, and remember that you get what you pay for. The cheap stuff that comes in a 5-liter screw-cap can is going to be uninspiring, and though you may want to cook with it, you will likely not want to drizzle it over your soup or salad because it won't contribute those wonderful olive oil aromas and flavors one gets from better oils. In terms of quality oil don't overlook a (relatively) conveniently priced local olive oil if you live in an area where oil is produced -- if it was properly made, our tasting showed that it will rival just about anything imported. And if you live in a non-producing area, don't feel you must buy the most expensive European import to enjoy olive oil. Taste the various possibilities with an open mind, and you may find yourself preferring something from a less renowned area that's less expensive.
Never tasted olive oil?
You'll not want to taste more than 6-8 oils at a sitting because palate fatigue sets in quickly, and you'll want a glass of cool water to sip between samples. The glasses we were given were clear glass and small, about half again larger than a shot glass, and each contained a couple of tablespoons of olive oil.
You begin with the color: Intensity, hue, which varies from green to gold, and transparency, which varies from cloudy (not necessarily a defect) to quite clear. And you continue with the aromas, gently shaking the glasses and sniffing deeply. As is the case with evaluating a wine, you identify the primary aromas and then concentrate on the secondary aromas that emerge as you continue to sniff; in tasting an olive oil, I was told, the aromas play a greater part than they do in a wine, and I tend to agree.
Once you are done sniffing, you taste -- just a drop, initially on the tip of the tongue, and you work it around the rest of your palate, analyzing the tastes and textures you perceive. A sip of water to clear the palate, and on to the next oil.
So what are you looking for?
According to the key we were given, olive oil can display three positive attributes:
- Fruity -- olive fruit aromas and flavors
- Bitterness -- characteristic of oil from green (unripe) olives
- Spiciness -- Pepper, specifically, and characteristic of oil made from olives picked at the beginning of the harvest
There are many more defects; these are the major ones:
- Riscaldo (heated) -- characteristic of olives that began to ferment before they were pressed
- Mold/dampness -- moldy aromas and flavors from olives that were stored where it was damp, and got moldy.
- Muck -- a flavor characteristic of oils that remained in contact with the olive pulp after pressing
- Winey/Acidic -- The oil has overtones reminiscent of wine or vinegar. This happens when the olives fermented before pressing, forming acetic acid.
- Metallic -- A metallic taste derived form the oil's being in contact with metal surfaces too long during the production phases.
- Rancid -- Characteristic aromas and tastes caused by oxidation
- Cooked -- this happens when the olives or olive paste were overheated during pressing.
- Grass or wood -- characteristic of olives that were dried out (this is a lot of grass; a little is all right).
- Coarse -- a dense, chewy sensation found in some oils.
- Lubricant -- when the oil brings to mind motor oil or diesel fuel.
- Vegetation water -- a flavor the oil acquires if it's not separated from the water component soon enough after pressing.
- Briny -- brings to mind olives that were preserved in brine
- Dirt -- earthiness from olives that sat on the ground
- Wormy -- from olives that were infected with the larvae of the olive fly
- Cucumber -- typical of oils that have been stored too long, especially in cans
In short, there are lots of problems to look out for, and many are more common than you might think. Indeed, I once attended a comparison of artisinal and mass-produced commercial oils, and the master taster found defects, in particular brininess, in almost all the commercial oils.
However, when it all works, and what you find is positive, the next step is to break out the bread to make bruschetta, together with a bowl of freshly sliced vegetables for pinzimonio (give each guest a dipping bowl to fill with oil, seasoned to taste with salt and pepper, and include bell peppers, artichoke hearts, celery, carrots, and whatever else you like that's firm enough to be dipped among the vegetables). Follow the antipasto with a bowl of minestrone or pasta e fagioli drizzled with a little more oil, and follow the first course with grilled spare ribs, served with plain white beans and chickpeas, both drizzled with oil and seasoned with salt and pepper. Who could ask for more?
Actually, since we're coming to the Season For Stuffed Birds, one could ask for one of those, and here are a couple of ideas:
Pollo Ripeno alle Noci, Chicken Stuffed with Walnuts
This stuffed chicken recipe is from Trentino Alto Adige, and will be quite nice in the fall, when freshly harvested walnuts come to market. Unlike many Italian chicken stuffings, this one does not contain meat. To serve 4-6:
- A chicken weighing 2 1/5 pounds, with its giblets
- The numeats from 12 walnuts, skins removed and chopped
- 1/3 pound (150 g) stale bread - in terms of volume, this should be close to 3 cups
- 1/3 cup (30 g) pine nuts, chopped
- 1/2 cup (25 g) freshly grated Parmigiano
- 2 eggs
- 3/5 cup (150 ml) meat broth; unsalted canned bouillon will also work
- A pinch of freshly grated nutmeg
- Salt and pepper to taste
Begin by setting a pot of water big enough to contain the chicken to boil.
Next, clean the gizzard and simmer it in boiling water for 15 minutes.
While it's cooking, crumble the bread into a bowl and sprinkle the broth over it.
Squeeze the excess moisture from the bread and return it to the bowl.
Chop the chicken liver and the gizzard. Add them to the bread, together with the walnut meats, pine nuts, and grated Parmigiano. Add a pinch of grated nutmeg and the eggs. Season with salt and pepper and mix well.
Fill the chicken with the stuffing and sew the cavity shut with string.
Salt the boiling water, and simmer the chicken for an hour. Drain it well, cut it, and arrange the pieces and the stuffing on a platter. Serve the chicken with the stuffing and vegetables of choice.
In terms of a wine, since the recipe is from the high Northeast, I might go with a Lagrein.
Pollo Ripieno al Pistacchio, Chicken Stuffed with pistachio Nuts
The above is boiled, and is something North Americans are less used to than Italians, for whom boiled Capon is one of the standard Christmas dishes. Here is a recipe for a roast stuffed chicken with pistachios and rice in the filling, which has a rather south Italian feel to it. To serve 4:
- A chicken, weighing about 3 pounds (1.3 k), cleaned, and with its giblets
- 1/4 pound (100 g) shelled pistachio nuts, peeled too
- 1 cup cooked rice
- 2 tablespoons minced parsley
- 2 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and crumbed with a fork
- 2 medium onions, peeled and chopped
- 6 tablespoons olive oil
- 1/4 cup (50 g) unsalted butter
- 1/3 cup plumped sultana raisins
- 1/2 cup broth overtones unsalted bouillon
- 1/4 cup (60 ml) heavy cream
- Paprika
- Salt and pepper to taste
Flame the bird to remove stray pinfeathers, if need be, and season it inside and out with salt and pepper.
Clean and chop the giblets. Drain the raisins.
Preheat your oven to 360 F (180 C).
Heat the butter in a saucepan and sauté the chopped onions and giblets for about 10 minutes, stirring constantly. When the time is up, combine them in a bowl with the pistachios, rice, hard-boiled eggs, raisins, and parsley. Season the mixture to taste with salt and pepper and use it to fill the chicken, sewing the cavity shut when you have finished.
Rub a little paprika into the chicken's skin, and put it in an oven pan that can also go over a burner. Add the olive oil too and brown the chicken for about 5 minutes over a brisk flame, turning it this way and that. When the 5 minutes has passed, transfer it to the oven and roast it for about 45 minutes or until done, basting it often, at first with a little hot broth, and later with pan drippings.
About 5 minutes before the chicken is done, pour the cream over it and return it to the oven. If your roasting pan is elegant, serve it directly in the pan. If it is less so, transfer it to a platter and serve.
The wine? Red, and I might be tempted by an Aglianico del Taburno here.
This has gone on longer than I expected. This time's proverb is Sicilian: Aceddru `nta la aggia `un canta p`amuri, ma pi raggia - A caged bird doesn't sing out of love, but out of rage.
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 them on the IWR site, through http://www.cosabolle.com.
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