Wednesday, December 01, 2010

Riccardo Falchini, Colatura & More: Being the 168th issue of Cosa Bolle in Pentola

Greetings! As promised, I have begun to put the images from my new camera to good use, and on Italian Food have posted a step by step dedicated to Recco's fabulously cheesy focaccia. On the Italian Wine review, on the other hand, I have put up a look at Supertuscans and an overview od the Antica Casa Vinicola Scarpa, which -- in addition to classic Barolo & Barbaresco -- makes some excellent and unusual wines in Monferrato.

Returning to Cosa Bolle, we begin some sad news. Riccardo Falchini, the man behind Casale Falchini, one of the first Vernaccia producers to emphasize quality over quantity, died suddenly last week. He presented a rather gruff front to the world, but there was a very kind man behind it, and though I didn't see him that often (my fault, not his) I will miss him.

One of the first travel-related things I wrote for About.Com when I was doing the Tuscany travel site was an exploration of San Gimignano, which included notes on several wineries including Casale Falchini, and here is what I wrote after talking to him:

Back in the 1960s Riccardo Falchini enjoyed driving out into the country to buy wines (he operated a business in Prato, not far from Florence), but realized what the farmers were selling wasn't their best.

So in 1964 he decided, much against the advice of the rest of his family, to purchase a farm outside San Gimignano, which had once been monastic. It's hard to fault his relatives; because of the political situation landlord-tenant relationships were extremely tense, and most people who had land were trying to get rid of it. Moreover, the tenants who lived on this particular farm were herdsmen from the Maremma whose primary interest was their 22 cows.


"It was desolate," he recalls, adding that the neglect of the herdsmen was only the final insult: During the unrest of the 1800s farmers living in the area had planted things that required little supervision, since they never knew when they would have to hide from an invading army. In terms of vineyards, this meant Sangiovese, which is resistant and long-lived, but not necessarily noble, and Trebbiano, which gave large volumes and thus provided much needed calories for the winter (wine was seen primarily as a food), but again, not quality. The enological culture of the Renaissance was gone, and when the new Vernaccia DOC came into being in 1966 many people were not sure what to do next.


Riccardo rolled up his sleeves and got to work, replanting vineyards and studying enological treatises. In 1976 he rebuilt the winery, installing temperature-controlled fermentation tanks and temperature control throughout, and in 1979 began making a Vernaccia based sparkling wine as well; along the way he also began experimenting with non-indigenous grape varieties, including Chardonnay, Riesling, and Cabernet Sauvignon. The results have been spectacular, and Casale Falchini is one of the best bargains in San Gimignano, with excellent wines made even better by the quality/price ratio.


If you like older vintages and are in the area you should by all means visit, because you'll find crates of all sorts of marvels, including decade-old vinsanto and wonderful Chardonnay, all stored under perfect conditions. You'll also enjoy the vinsantaia, which has some of the barriques that yielded first successful vintage of Sassicaia, in 1968, and the view from the estate is of course pretty -- the view of San Gimignano's towers is hard to beat. Small groups only, contact them before setting out, and don't arrive at lunch time, which is from 12 to 1.


To reach Casale Falchini turn right at Piazza dei Martiri, circle around san Gimignano's walls and down the hill, and turn right again onto the road for Ulignano. Fattoria Casale will be to the left, after about 2 miles.


And what of the winery, you wonder? Riccardo's sons Michael and Christopher had worked with him for a number of years, and operations will continue under their able direction.


Moving in another direction: Colatura di Cetara

Torino's Salone del Gusto is full of surprises, and as I was wandering among the booths of the Regione Campania, I came across what I first thought was a large tilted can of canned anchovies, with a little brownish brine that had settled into the slant. Wrong, the can was there for display purposes, and the true subject of the stand was the brine, which is a pretty amber when bottled, and is called Colatura di Acciughe di Cetara, or, well, anchovy drippings from the town of Cetara.

In other words, an anchovy sauce, and they told me it's made by filling a tub with a mixture of anchovies and salt. The salt draws liquid from the fish and with time settles through them as well, and is drained from the bottom of the tub via a spigot. At which point the fish, which has rendered its essence to the brine, is discarded, while the brine, or Colatura, is bottled.

As you might guess, there is more to it than this. The town of Cetara's site goes into much greater detail, saying that the anchovies caught between March and July are beheaded and cleaned, and salted for 24 hours in a tub. After which they are removed, and layered in wooden tubs, with salt between the layers, and covered with a weighted wooden disk; the salt draws moisture from the fish, which is gathered and put in glass bottles that sit in the sun during the summer months, while the fish continue to ripen (in cool, well ventilated rooms) in their salty containers, giving off more brine that added to that already collected. After 4-5 months, in mid autumn, the brine is returned to the tubs and allowed to filter through the fish, emerging from the spigots at the bottom of the tubs.

How, you wonder, did Colatura develop? It's a derivative of salting anchovies, dating to the days when everything, even the brine (which is removed and discarded when the goal is to make salted anchovies), was too precious to waste. Luciano Pignattaro recently discussed it, saying that it was originally something the fishermen made and set aside, using it to season pasta or vegetables when they had nothing else, and also giving it to close friends. He also says its current popularity (Cetara now organizes a Festa della Colatura in December) dates to the 1990s, when Gennaro / Gennaro, who operated a hole-in-the-wall eathery called L'Acquapazza, began to offer spaghetti alla colatura to vacationers. And enjoyed such success that they had to expand the restaurant.

So, what to do with it Colatura?

The folks at the Colatura di Cetara stand at Slowfood suggest making pasta sauce:

  • 8 tablespoons olive oil
  • 1-2 cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped
  • 1/4 cup minced parsley
  • A fresh hot pepper, seeded and chopped
  • 4 tablespoons colatura
  • A scant pound (400 g) of the pasta of choice; I would likely go with spaghetti

Set pasta water to boil, and cook the pasta -- given the saltiness of the sauce no need for salt in the water. In the meantime combine the other ingredients in a bowl and mix well. When the pasta reaches the al dente stage drain it into a serving bowl and mix the sauce into it. Serve at once, with a white wine, and I might go with a Fiano here.


Last thing: The can of Colatura pictured here was made by Delfino Battista, a company that makes Colatura di Cetara.

Frittelle di Patate e Noci Per Hanuccá

Winding down, Hanukah begins today. Since it commemorates the miraculous oil that kept sacred flame of the Temple alight, it is custom to prepare fried foods, and Giuliana Vitali Norsa says these potato-walnut fritters are of oriental origin.

  • 3 fairly large potatoes, steamed until a skewer penetrates easily and peeled
  • 3/4 cup chopped walnut meats
  • 3 eggs, lightly beaten
  • Oil for frying
  • Salt and pepper to taste

Put the potatoes through a potato ricer, and mix into them the walnuts and the eggs. Season the mixture with salt and pepper to taste and make flattened patties of it. Fry them in the hot oil, turning them so both sides brown, and serve them hot.


A note: Ms. Vitali Norsi calls for a mixture of rendered lamb's fat and olive oil. Which you can of course use, though I would be tempted to use just olive oil.


I had planned to also discuss American influences in Sardegna, but that will have to wait until next time.


This time's proverb is Neapolitan: Se te vuó 'mparà a pregà, và 'ncopp' ô mare - If you want to learn how to pray, go to sea.

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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