A Culinary Traveller in Tuscany
A while ago -- longer than it should be, and I apologize -- Beth Elon sent me a copy of her book, A Culinary Traveller in Tuscany. She, like me, was bit by the Italy bug, though differently: She and her husband chanced upon an abandoned farmhouse in the foothills of the Appennini towards Pistoia, bought it, and gradually and casually restored it (too casually, she says in the introduction: "when you don't add a fireplace to the living room it never gets done.") And in time discovered the village just above their house, which had been a tenant farmer's podere in the midst of his lands, and became part of the village, learning to do things the traditional way -- canning by the phase of the moon, for example. Eventually the house stopped being a summer home, and became their permanent residence.
She is blessed with a beautiful way of stringing words together and a keen eye for detail, and her book, which is subtitled "Exploring & Eating off the Beaten Track," is a great deal of fun. And apt; she avoids the parts of Tuscany in which one is most likely to meet a foreigner (Chianti, for example), rather going up into the Casentino (the craggy highlands between Florence and Arezzo) and the Alta Valle Teverina, or to the Valle Del Serchio (behind Lucca), which is as wild and steep-sided as any valley you'll find in the Alps. The closest she comes to Florence is Montelupo, a town once known for its spectacular ceramics, but that many modern Florentines associate primarily with the Manicomio criminale, or Home for the Criminally Insane.
Of course Beth doesn't discuss the Home; rather, she starts out by noting that Montelupo is still a hotbed of ceramicists, and says it's her favorite place to buy wedding gifts, and after discussing several artisans, takes us along the winding back roads to San Miniato, a town whose stature as a white truffle capital rivals Alba's, and whose history is simply fascinating. From there we go to Montopoli Val D'Arno, which is now much sleepier than it once was, though there are flashes of elegance, and on to Palaia, another one of those pretty towns of the kind most people stumble upon (with joy) when they make a wrong turn and follow the road to see where it goes.
But there's more to the book; each itinerary is followed by a section dedicated to local specialties, and since San Miniato is a truffle capital we get to tag along as she accompanies a truffle hunter who is training a young dog to find the elusive tubers. And then there are notes on restaurants, and the dishes most noteworthy, with... Recipes.
All sorts of things, from mushrooms packed in oil to gnocchi with hazelnut sauce to risotto with apples and shrimp. And this is just one of the ten itineraries!
It's a beautiful book to read, and even if you're not planning to get into a car and drive (public transportation is not an option here) you will very much enjoy it. And, who knows? You may find yourself planning an unexpected trip...
Practical things:
A Culinary Traveller in Tuscany
Exploring and Eating off the Beaten Track
By Beth Elon, © 2006
The Little Bookroom
1755 Broadway, Fifth Floor
NY NY 10019
http://www.littlebookroom.com
ISBN-10 1-892145-36-7
On Amazon
Thoughts about Sediment in Wine
A few years ago I visited a winery near the eastern boarder of the Chianti Classico region, and, since it was near Christmas, I asked the cellermaster if he had any Riserva left. He said no, then hesitated. "Well, I do have last year's, but I don't know if you'd like it - we've had lots of people return it to us."
It turns out that he doesn't filter his wines, and for some reason that vintage gave off more sediment than usual. He must have seen something in my expression, because he ventured, "I can let you have it at 5 Euros per bottle - all sales final, you understand."
I tasted it and bought a case.
The sediment? Well, to be honest I'd almost rather that a well-aged red wine have some - it's a natural byproduct of the aging process, a mix of tartaric acid crystals and other chemicals that settle out as the wine matures. An old wine with no sediment at all would make me wonder what has happened to it that has kept it from developing in the bottle.
Has it been filtered, perhaps? Filtration will improve clarity, but at the expense of body, color and bouquet. Or has it received some other insult - a shot of sulfur dioxide? The compound works as a preservative, but can make the wine smell like a burnt match. Better to have a little bit of sediment, which indicates that the wine is still alive.
Note the word little - if there's a lot, there may well be something amiss. Also, the wine above the sediment should be crystal clear, not cloudy.
Returning to sediment, it is true that finding a dark deposit in the bottom of your goblet (we are talking about an aged wine here) is a bit off-putting. To avoid this, simply decant the wine.
Though the procedure looks complicated, it's easy to do: A day or two before you plan to open the bottle, stand it upright to give the sediment a chance to settle to the bottom. At opening time you will need a decanter (crystal or clear glass is best, because it reveals the color of the wine, but you could even use a pitcher if you had to) and a candle.
Remove the metal capsule and uncork the bottle gently. Light the candle and slowly pour the wine into the decanter, holding the bottle in front of (not over) the candle, and watching the candle flame through the neck of the bottle. When the sediment reaches the neck of the bottle it will appear as a dark stream silhouetted against the flame; at this point stop pouring. With practice, you will be able to pour all but the last half-inch or so before the sediment gets there. The trick is to be gentle. And then, enjoy!
Tartino al Cioccolato e Arance
Valentine's Day is nearing, and one of my favorite sweet combinations is orange and chocolate. Chocolate covered orange peel immediately comes to mind, but orangy chocolate tart will also be quite nice.
- 1 5/6 cups (220 g) flour
- 1/2 cup (100 g) unsalted butter
- 1cup (100 g) powdered sugar
- 3 eggs and 4 yolks
- 2/3 pound (300 g) baking chocolate
- The zest (orange part only) of 2 oranges, organically grown if possible -- that from one grated, and from the other cut into thin strips
- 2/5 cup (1 dl) heavy cream
- A pinch of salt
- 1/2 pound dried beans or chickpeas
Dice the butter and whir it briefly in a blender with the flour, half the sugar, the grated zest of one of the oranges, and a pinch of salt. Add the egg and continue whirring until the dough forms a ball. Wrap it in plastic wrap and chill it in the refrigerator for a half hour.
Preheat your oven to 360 F (180 C).
Roll the chilled dough out to a thickness of 1/4 inch (1/2 cm) and use it to line a round 9-inch (22 cm) cake pan or crostata pan (they're a little lower sided than cake pans). Cover the dough with oven parchment and fill the pan with the dried legumes. Bake the dough for 15 minutes, remove the legumes and the paper, and bake it for 10 more.
In the meantime, melt 3/4 of the chocolate over a double boiler. While it's melting beat the remaining eggs and the yolks with the remaining powdered sugar, to obtain a sweet frothy mixture. Add the cream and the melted chocolate and mix gently. Turn the mixture out into the pie shell and bake for 30 minutes at 320 F (160 C).
Let the tart cool. Decorate it with thin strips of orange zest and chocolate shavings made from the bitter chocolate you did not melt.
Happy Valentine's Day!
This time's proverb is Tuscan: Ama chi t'ama, e chi non t'ama lascia - love those who love you, and leave those who do not.
Kyle Phillips
Editor, The Italian Wine Review
http://www.italianwinereview.com
Guide to Italian Food
http://italianfood.about.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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