by Maureen | Jun 15, 2011 | Featured Articles, Food!, Incredible Locations, Journal, Meals, Milano, People, Photos
Such dear, dear people. I feel so welcomed by Agnese, Ninni, their son Erik and Ninni’s sister Bea. They greeted me so warmly and then said goodbye with hints of visiting Seattle this year!
It was three years ago that I had “Warm Octopus with Potatoes and Olives” for the first time at the Carlotta Café here along the Naviglio Pavese canal in Milano. I’ve been dreaming about it ever since and longed to know how to make it myself. Almost a year ago, on Friday, the day before leaving to return to Seattle, I had hailed a cab to go to the restaurant for an Octopus-cooking lesson. Ninni and Agnese had offered to teach me sometime.
When I arrived, they were closed up tight. I didn’t know they were away on vacation.
Back here in Milano for these two months, I’ve been traveling quite a bit, and have only gone to the Café for one meal, with a big group of friends. With my departure imminent (next week!), I just had to get down there for my Octopus Lesson!
Today was the day. I packed my apron, hopped on my bike and was there in 10 minutes to hang out in the kitchen for the afternoon. I had called ahead and arrived during a quiet lunch hour. Ninni immediately asked his son, Erik, to pour me a glass of prosecco. Bea, (short for Beatrice), Ninni’s sister, works at the restaurant and showed me step by step what I needed to know.
Piovre Tiepida con Patate e Olive
Warm Octopus with Potatoes and Olives
Octopus – previously frozen, thawed. 2.5 – 3 lbs. each.
Have a BIG pot of water boiling and ready. Put the octopus into the boiling water, tentacles up, with two fistfuls of coarse salt. The octopus will cook for an hour to an hour-and-a-half until it has the tenderness of a cooked roast when poked with a 2-tined fork. No other ingredients are added to the water. (No onions, celery, pepper, etc.)
These octopus are bigger than the ones I’ve found at the Pike Place Market in Seattle.
THE OCTOPUS SHOULD BE COOKED AND THEN COOLED THE DAY BEFORE SERVING (or at least earlier in the day). This is a big key toward its tenderness. (Today, to show me the preparation, Bea used octopus that had been cooked yesterday.)
Potatoes – Moist, yellow potatoes, such as a Yukon Gold, are best.
Cook the potatoes ahead of time and let them cool to room temperature. When ready to prepare the dish, peel the potatoes, cut them into chunks and set them aside.
Italian Parsley – Take a handful of Italian Parsley and chop it finely.
Oil/Vinegar Dressing – 1 liter Extra virgin olive oil, about 1/2 cup of red wine vinegar, 1 large clove of garlic, about a Tbsp. of salt. Put all of these ingredients into a deep, narrow mixing jar and use a hand blender (or similar) to pureé it into a smooth dressing. This dressing will suffice for quite a while and can be stored in the fridge for later use.
Olives – Use the very small, distinctive, taggiasche olives (from Liguria).
Assembly – When ready to prepare the meal, take the octopus from the fridge and cut the body/head away from the tentacles and set it aside. If it hasn’t already been cleaned out, at the junction of the body and tentacles is a round sack about the size of a quarter (depending on the size of the Octopus) and the beak, both of which should be removed and thrown away. Cut the tentacles apart from each other up at the thick ends. The skin is NOT peeled off. The thickest part of the tentacle can be cut crosswise if desired. Cut into 1/8″ thick rounds, cutting the whole tentacle, suction cups and all. Take the body/head, like an empty pouch, and peel away the outer skin. Cut into bite-sized pieces.
(The body/head is the rounded, fist-sized piece sitting at the edge of the cutting board in the picture below.)
Depending on the number of people being served, gather octopus chunks, potato chunks and a good handful of olives and place them into a sieve. With a pot of water already boiling on the stove, place the sieve and its contents, into the boiling water. Allow the food to heat for only about 3 or 4 minutes just to warm through.
Remove from the water. Drain well and toss everything into a bowl. Add a handful of chopped parsley and a good glug-glug-glug of the prepared oil/vinegar dressing. Serve with a wedge of lemon, if desired.
Bea finished prepping the octopus, Ninni plated it and gave me a delicious lunch. Out of this world. So very tender. From now on, everyone that comes to my house for dinner will be served octopus.
Surrounded by such kind people: Ninni, Erik, Bea and Agnese
by Maureen | Dec 8, 2010 | Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Incredible Locations, Journal, Meals, Photos, Seattle, Shopping & Markets
Saturday. Past 10:00 in the evening and the house smells good of octopus cooking since 9:26. A few garlic cloves, a dozen peppercorns, a tablespoon of salt and maybe a gallon of water in a pot with an octopus that stretches out a couple of feet.
How DOES one cook an octopus? Yearning for my favorite dish at the Carlotta Cafe in Milano, the Piovra con Patate (Octopus with Potatoes. Octopus is also called “polpo“.), I set off on my first octopus-cooking experience. I’ve been watching videos on YouTube to get a sense of technique and the general consensus is, like squid, either cook it really short, or cook it really long. In between would be like eating rubber bands.
I trundled into holiday crowds at the Pike Place Market today to my favorite fishmonger, Pure Food Fish. (Ask for Rich and tell him I sent you.) For $3.99 per pound, I went home with a small octopus and excitement to try my hand at the simple, yet delicious, Sicilian dish. (When I got home and unwrapped my catch, I found a tiny little octopus in the bundle.)
While at the Market, I bought Yukon Gold Potatoes and Italian Parsley at a vegetable stall. I had a wonderful conversation with Theresa, the seller, and we exchanged some contact information and wild stories about my bold decision to pick up and move to Italy for a year.
Next, I went to Seattle’s Italian food fixture, DeLaurenti, and bought a few other ingredients. I needed taggiasche olives, which they didn’t have except in a jar, so I bought the celina olives instead. I stepped upstairs and sampled vibrant, green olive oils at their tasting bar and selected the Partanna Sicilian oil for its full flavor. While I was at the store, I couldn’t help but buy two fresh mozzarella balls… (even though they’re from Wisconsin.)
It’s now 10:37 and the octopus has cooked for a little over an hour. I put the timer on for another 15 minutes. Better tender than not. What I’m thinking is that I’ll pull it out of the cook pot and let it cool. Tomorrow, I’ll cook the potatoes, and will cut up the octopus parts and maybe sauté them a bit. (Yes? No?) Then I’ll toss everything together and hope that it looks and tastes something like what I had at Ninni and Agnese’s fabulous little café, named after their daughter, Carlotta.
Ninni and Agnese had offered to let me come into their kitchen to learn how to cook this, my favorite meal. Friday, the day before I left Milano to return to the U.S., I hired a taxi to take me to the café. (It’s not very walkable.) When I arrived on Friday at lunchtime, they were closed! I was so disappointed, and rode the same taxi home. I never got my chance for a lesson from them but will always remember their incredible meal.
11:06 p.m. The octopus is out of the pot after about an hour and 15 minutes. It cooked down to not much, really. I think I could select a bigger octopus next time, or one-per-person. It’s tender and perhaps needs only one hour. The outer skin is loose and slippery, so I’ve fingered most of it away.
Guess what’s for dinner tomorrow? I’ll cook my potatoes, lightly warm my octopus in a sauté pan, drizzle my oil and some fresh-squeezed lemon, and add my olives and parsley. A little sea salt and some pepper. Done! Maybe it’ll approximate Ninni and Agnese’s dish, and if I close my eyes I’ll think I’m at their cafe alongside the canal, sipping a Sicilian wine and whiling away the time.
Wednesday morning. Post-Octopus…twice! I prepped the octopus as I described, for my dinner late on Sunday. A girlfriend stopped by just in time and we both relished it.
My hunch-of-a-method approximated that of the Carlotta Café enough so that I decided to cook it for two friends on Monday night, too. I went back to the Pike Place Market, got two octopus from Rich and started all over again. This time I threw more veggies into the cooking broth and cooked the octopus whole. It ended as a deep aubergine color, but the skin was more troublesome this time. I may need to do more research, but my friends devoured it, nonetheless. Piovra con Patate may be my new “potluck dish”.
Mark Bittman, “The Minimalist” chef for the New York Times, wrote a concise, yet thorough, ditty on buying and cooking octopus, “Octopus Demystified”.
And here are guide on Cooking Small Octopi and Cooking Large Octopi including cooking charts with times and results.
Here’s a recipe, in Italian: Insalata Tiepida di Polpo e Patate
or, roughly translated into English: Warm Salad of Octopus and Potatoes
A little side note:
One friend was puzzled by the long, pale gray, glistening octopus that I bought (seen above) and the deeply-colored, ruddy-purple, curled, firm octopus seen below. It’s “before and after”! Before cooking, the octopus is limp and pale. One web site recommended holding it by the head and dipping the tentacles a few times into the boiling water so that they curl uniformly, then dropping the whole animal into the pot to cook. Almost immediately, the skin color darkens, and by the end of cooking, (in this case about an hour), the octopus has taken on this dark coloration. Some enjoy eating the skin, some do not. Depending on the length of time in the boiling pot, the dark skin can be brushed or scrubbed off, ideally leaving white cylinders of meat. Personally, I like to have the suction cups remain because they are the clue to the meat on the plate! But the skin at the top of the tentacles and around the body/head is thick and viscous and I haven’t developed that preference yet.
by Maureen | Jul 24, 2010 | Introspection, Journal, Quips
One week from today, at this time, I will have schlepped my bags by taxi and train to Milano Malpensa airport; checked in, with machine gun carrying guards in the mezzanine above me; gone through security; waited; flown over the Alps to London two hours north; gone through security again; eaten an airport meal; wound my way through Heathrow; boarded, gotten settled and begun my 9 hour flight back to Seattle.
I just went grocery shopping. What favorite foods do I want to eat again (and again) before I go? I bought bresaola, and mortadella with pistachios, buffalo milk fresh mozzarella, fresh figs and sicilian tomatoes. One (or two) more meals of octopus? Who do I want to see and say goodbye to? How many more last hurrahs with my girlfriends? Where do I want to go? What will wish I had photographed?
As I buy groceries and supplies this week, I have to calculate how much I can use in six days. As I go for a bike ride, or subway ride, I have to realize it may be the last one (for a long while).
From a journal entry today:
“I have grown a sweet affection for this country. It’s not the starry-eyed, naive enthusiasm of a tourist’s love of the sights. But it’s a complex recognition of the quirks, an all-too-recent connection with individuals along my path, the creation for myself of a way of being, and as yet, merely a hint of who these people are. How can I stay away for long? I am leaving a part of myself here, and have lodged a part of Italy in my heart, to carry with me. Under what circumstances will I return, and for how long?”
by Maureen | Jul 19, 2009 | Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Meals, People
One of the Sunday street markets of antiques and collectables lines the narrow, crooked, cobbled Via Fiori Chiari. I had found the listing online and it seemed like a nice way to spend a Sunday morning.
Almost as soon as I came up out of the subway, I was faced with the Piccolo Theater and the public art that dominated the intersection. (I thought of Burien’s new Town Square.)
Two blocks later, at the entrance to Via Fiori Chiari, sat the mozzarella bar, Obika. I made a note to go back there, as I watched the woman prepare a broad flat disk of fresh mozzarella the size of a pizza! She laid the cheese out flat, piled it with fresh arugula and freshly sliced bresaola (my favorite cured meat). She rolled the whole thing to be later sliced into beautiful green, white and red spiral rotoli. The place looked sleek and hip, (The prices weren’t so sleek, however. Check out their web site for a lesson in mozzarella.)
Via Fiori Chiari is a mere alleyway, only two blocks long, narrow but spotless, and faced by antique and clothing stores. The restaurants along those two blocks set out their tables and table cloths, their menus written in either cursive or chalk, and umbrellas to shade all the hungry antique-shoppers.
I wandered the two blocks and bought 7 beads. Sure. Come all the way to Italy and buy beads from Thailand! But I liked them. They reminded me of folded paper, and their simplicity pleased me.
Lunch time. I perused the posted menus and the octopus at Il Kaimano kept sounding good to me, Polpetti alla Luciana. I stepped up and was seated with tables one inch away from either side of my own. The waiter handed me a menu, and when I said “grazie“, he looked startled and replied “Italiana?”. I said “si“, and he returned with a menu in Italian. (I was pleased again today.)
The table proximity was cozy… Indeed! And it was on this lovely, just-right-warm Sunday afternoon, sipping prosecco and spooning octopus out of my bowl that I met my first new friends in Milano! I can’t remember how the conversation began with Ewa and Piotr; I think it was that Piotr asked if I’m English, or if I speak English. “Americans speaking Italian usually don’t have such a good accent,” he said. The three of us ended up enjoying our meals together over the next hour or so, speaking with Italian and English blended so well I forgot what language was being spoken!
Ewa (Eva) is a doctor from Poland and has lived here for 30 years. Piotr is Polish and German, and a retired musical conductor. He was especially pleased by the music of the street musician just a few feet away, and thus their selection of this restaurant. He told of being a part of the musical production, Cinderella, at the Kennedy Center in 1962.
It wasn’t long into the conversation that Ewa suggested we get together so she could practice her English and I could practice my Italian! What fun. How perfect. We exchanged cards and numbers and plan to meet for coffee or pizza next weekend. We might make it a weekly language practice!
Just last night I was musing about “living” in Milano. Living in a city is not simply having an apartment and buying groceries alongside the locals. That’s just the mechanics and structure of living. Living in a city is about being a part of community in that city. That’s the heart of living and the key I was wondering how to create. Certainly, sitting in my apartment doesn’t do much to help me meet people, but I had thought, “What? Go to a restaurant alone and just sit there writing in my journal while I eat?” Well…no journal with me today and the tables were only an inch apart. How could we NOT have started a conversation?! It was all so fluid and easy.
Reflecting on friendships, I am so very grateful for the lifeline that NABA creates for me, and the gathering of wonderful people that I’ve met there. Without those friendships this move to Milano would have been an entirely different story. NABA has given me a community to dip my big toe into right from the start.
But since arriving here, meeting Ewa and Piotr began the first spontaneous, independent friendships outside of NABA that have a likelihood of continuing! And that prospect pleases me even more deeply than paper-like beads or being mistaken for an Italian! Grazie a Ewa e Piotr!
