I like to eat in Italy.

I like to eat in Italy.

Oh, how I love to eat here in Italy. What is it that makes it all so delicious? Unlike the misconceptions, “Italian food” is NOT all “pizza and pasta”. There’s so very much more!

The freshness of the ingredients is a big part. Also, the regional traditions and specialties, changing every 50 kilometers, makes exploration so tantalizing.

And, my trust in the food origin and quality makes a huge difference (…but perhaps I’m naive and mistaken?). I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten raw beef in the U.S. I wouldn’t trust it! But it was absolutely delicious yesterday, and I had no hesitation. The provenance of the meat is important and known here. I don’t find that in the U.S. except in very refined restaurants or meat sources.

Part of my reason for posting images of what I’m eating is to inform about the very broad world of what constitutes “Italian Food”. If you come to Italy, I encourage you to order the regional specialties… order something even though you don’t know what it is. It’s a great, wonderful, edible world here.

After you’ve devoured the images below, here are a few additional food smorgasbords to drool over:

Italian Food: Hungry? Eat this!

Italian Food: Eating the South

Still Life with Toilet Paper

Still Life with Toilet Paper

First day in town required some grocery shopping. A few things to eat (favorites I’ve missed), and a few things for the house.

Starting from the back, left to right:

  • Cherry tomatoes – sugar sweet and full of flavor. Who needs candy?
  • Fresh Mozzarella di Bufala – the real thing
  • Whole milk for my coffee
  • Granola
  • Toilet Paper
  • Balsamic Vinegar
  • Fazzoletti – Tissues
  • Cutting Board – from the “Euro Store”
  • Rucola – Arugula, for my salad
  • Romano Green Beans
  • Gorgonzola Dolce – I can’t find this in Seattle. It’s gooey, creamy and very mild with random streaks of Gorgonzola goodness
  • Yogurt – Plain, nonfat
  • Liquid Hand Soap
  • Beet/Cabbage Kraut – from the Austrian-influenced deli
  • Balsamic Vinegar Cream – A reduction of vinegar. I like LOTS of it on my salad! $17.00 at De Laurenti’s in Seattle. 3,40 Euro here.
  • Red Pepper – big and luscious
  • Plastic bags – 20, to line my sorting bins for paper, plastic, glass and trash
  • Bresaola – Thin sliced cured beef. (Also available in horse meat.) Can’t get this in the U.S. because of fears of Mad Cow Disease.
  • Nespole – Fruit about the size of an apricot, with a bi-lobed seed in the middle.
  • Scamorza Affumicata – Smoked Scamorza cheese, tied with a cord for hanging in the smoking process.
  • Bread – also from the deli. Dense, moist, hearty. Atypical Italian, but more common in northeast Italy.
  • Pears

Today’s shopping cost 48 Euro ($61 U.S. at the current exchange).

Here’s my “Still Life with Toilet Paper”
(click for a larger view)

And then I had to arrange things in a decorative manner:

Ciao da Milano!

Ciao da Milano!

Friday, April 29. The Milanese are still wearing their winter jeans, puff jackets and scarves. I’m wearing black linen capris and sleeveless blouses. I arrived in Milano Wednesday at 9:00 a.m., to a morning warmer than Seattle… yet I’m glad to have brought a little summer jacket.

Robin-like birds started singing early this morning. By the time I looked at the clock, it was 5:00 and they had already roused a chorus. I slipped back into sleep, and when I awoke, it was then the doves I heard, cooing in the courtyard trees.

The sky is overcast. There’s a bit of a breeze, and we had both sprinkles and sunshine by day’s end. The church bells just started chiming. It’s a quarter-til-6:00 in the evening. Why aren’t they waiting ’til the hour?

– – – – –

On Wednesday, the short train ride from the airport brought me to Cadorna Station in central Milano. I caught a cab to the apartment I’ve rented for this week, in the hip-and-artsy Navigli district, just blocks away from my old apartment and one of the grocery stores I always used to shop at.

Late morning, drowsy from the long travel and a little hungry, I went across the street to Trattoria Madonnina with its city-wide reputation… for coffee and lunch served by an unhappy waitress. I sat on the courtyard-side, jasmine-covered patio, with red-checked tablecloths and red, plastic chairs. (The WC is an old-style pit toilet with white, ridged ceramic foot pads for accurate positioning.) The morning was slow and relaxed with a cool, mid-spring sun and Milano’s classic hazy-blue sky. Neighborhood locals passed through the courtyard with their big, round “ciaos”.

I stopped in to the grocery to see my friend, Justine, cutting prosciutto in the meat department. She’s the meat cutter at the store and has the most beautiful smile. It touched my heart that her face lit up to see me and we gave each other an excited, european, two-cheeked kiss and chatted between customers.

It feels as if it’s only been 2 weeks since I was last here. As if I was back in Seattle just to check on a few things and see family, friends and clients. Actually, 9 months have passed since I packed up and left Milano, but it feels like I’ve come home, as I walk these familiar streets and hear the city’s sounds of sirens and courtyard conversations, soccer cheers and scooter accelerations.

In planning these two months, I gave myself the luxury of a fairly unplanned first week here in Milano. I haven’t even told all my friends that I’m here yet, because I haven’t wanted this week to be a full flurry of gatherings. I’ve taken my naps and slept as needed to get over the late-nights’ crush to leave Seattle, the long travels and resulting jet lag. I’ve focussed on getting systems up and running. I reactivated my Italian cell phone  with its rechargeable SIM card, unlocked my ancient (1st generation) iPhone (thanks to Luigi) and transferred the SIM card from one phone to the other. I was allowed use of the wifi at the Design School and have spent hours online, sitting amidst design students in the computer lab while I booked air and hotels for Sicily and Puglia for the coming two weeks.

Connectivity-hooked that I am, with no wifi in this apartment, and inconvenienced by only being online when the computer lab is open, I bought a “chiavetta” – little key – from TIM, one of the Italian carriers and the supplier of my cell phone SIM card service. Very patient Valentina at the TIM store on Corso San Gottardo explained my options and then waded through setup with me. I can now use the key modem independent of wifi availability throughout all of Italy (though it won’t work on my iPad because of device power issues).

Logistics. Though vastly less disruptive to my “life system” to come abroad for “just” 2 months rather than packing up and moving here, it’s still a big effort and taxing. How often do I figure on doing this? Once… twice a year? Would two weeks satisfy me? Will I always want a month or two or more? And to what end? Am I naive in feeling I have some sort of tie to Italy and her people, the friends I’ve made here? Am I holding a glamorized, fantasy of living partly in Italy? And where does that come from?

It’s Friday evening and there’s chatter in the courtyard, an enclosed canyon of a space between several of this big city’s 5-story apartment buildings.

Still moving slowly, I’m not compelled to go out tonight. Rather, I’ll make myself a salad of fresh greens, Sicilian tomatoes, long-missed bresaola, scamorza affumicata, some oil and vinegar. Maybe this weekend I’ll head down the bike path on an already-borrowed bike for some fresh ricotta cheese, and then later meet up with a girlfriend to check out the latest art museum show.

Here just two days so far, I’ve shopped for olive oil and intimates, cured meats and internet keys. At a quarter-til-eight in the evening, the doves are cooing again.

I’m back in Milano.
Ciao!

After La Montanara, Why Eat Again?

After La Montanara, Why Eat Again?

“I don’t have to eat anything the entire rest of my life. Nothing could be better than this meal”, said Sally.

It’s worth a trip to Bologna just to eat at Trattoria La Montanara. This small restaurant serves food that will make you swoon. (Be sure to reserve a table ahead of time so you’re not disappointed.)

Sally and I took the train from Milano to Bologna, just a little over an hour. After sightseeing, our day’s highlight was the delicious dinner, seated next to the open doors at the sidewalk’s edge.

The antipasti plate included a prosciutto mousse, quiche of zucchini and smoked scamorza cheese, eggplant pudding with olive tapenade, and a spinach/sausage combo (already devoured by the time I shot this photo.)

Creamy, cheesy, risotto of asparagus and zucchini flowers. Oh my!!! Divine.

Tortelloni of potato and pancetta with a butter and sage sauce.

If you’re a meat eater, what could be better than a perfectly cooked filet with a thick, balsamic vinegar sauce?

Trattoria La Montanara
Via Augusto Righi, 15
40126 Bologna, Italia
Tel: 051 221583

Springtime in Italy

The windows are open to the day’s remaining warmth while trout and green beans grill and steam for dinner.

I had awakened this morning to bright sun direct into my bedroom, and the day held promise. After some tasks around the house and a light lunch, I went for a bike ride along the canal, past magnolias, cherry trees and forsythia, and then west into the farm land. I rode to the dairy and bought grana padano and fresh scamorza cheeses. Tomorrow, Wednesday, is fresh ricotta day. That’s worth riding back to the farm for! They will have just finished making it by afternoon and it’s so light and fresh it should be eaten by the spoonful out of its tub.

The rice paddies are green with the first new growth, and I dreamily followed the curled road back through them, returning to the canalside path. The temperature and sunny, blue sky were so delicious, and I felt warm and easy.

Out for a Grocery Stroll

Out for a Grocery Stroll

After a little afternoon nap, I booted myself out the door for a stroll. It was just after 3:00, the quiet time of the day in the city. A mostly gray sky with a little chill in the air. Nice to head out and wander.

Just two blocks from home, I saw my Fashion Design instructor, Lee, from a year and a half ago. I hadn’t seen her since this summer session and it was nice to chat a bit. As it turns out, she recently moved to just around the corner for me, so we may meet for coffee sometime.

StrollGroceries

I needed a few groceries, but not much. The Saturday market was likely over, but I headed in that direction anyway, and am glad that I did. There was a stillness, an ease that is certainly not there in the height of the market selling. Many vendors had already left, but the others were slowly putting away their vegetables and fruits, their cheeses, meats and household sundries. They were still just as happy to make one last sale and end the day with a few extra euro in their pockets.

The fennel looked good, and I wanted to take one home with me. No. The minimum was three. “Oh, really? OK fine. Give me three. I’ll take some cherry tomatoes, too.” And of course, he THREW them into a bag. At another stall, the green beans looked fabulous and I wanted one of the two baskets full. He heaped a “fruta e verdura” paper bag with the beans from BOTH baskets, more than I could eat in a month. Fine. I love beans. I’ll eat them every day this week. (I guess they just didn’t want to pack up anything they could possibly send down the road.)

The man that had sold me bresaola the last time I went to this market was there again. I asked for “cento grammi“, 100 grams which he sliced right then, plus some brie. Then I saw a curious, smoked something-or-other, and asked for two. It’s cheese wrapped around prosciutto and olives, with some sort of creamy sauce inside, then smoked. (Front edge of the plate in the photo.)

The flower stall still had a few options, so I bought four colors of fragrant freesia to bring home.

I left the street market and went to the main street. As I approached the grocery store, there was a vendor out front roasting chestnuts. Yes, please! I added a big handful of those to my shopping bag. A few feet away, I spotted Justin, the woman from Kenya that works behind the meat counter at the grocery. She and I have chatted a number of times, and is the biggest reason for me to shop there. Her pleasant manner and conversation make me smile. Inside, I bought a package of cheese crackers that I had discovered when I first arrived four months ago, and some chicken thighs (for which I had big plans).

Next came the Bakery. There was a pizza square with mushrooms, prosciutto, artichoke hearts, sauce and cheese that clamored to come home with me. Plus, I bought a little bun with chunks of green olives. Basta! Plenty! That was enough for one shopping spree.

Along the way home, an elderly woman in a purple jacket stopped me to ask where I had bought the freesia. Unfortunately for her, the market was long over, but we chatted about freesia and tulips and springtime and I was pleased that we could have such a conversation.

And those chicken thighs? I cooked them just like Mom used to when we were kids (60s Americana): dredged in flour with salt and pepper. Browned in (olive) oil, then drowned in water and left to simmer for almost two hours ’til they were falling-off-the-bones tender. The chicken produced the classic gravy I was looking for and was ladled over (brown) rice, served with a few of those many green beans.

It was a simple afternoon, really. Just buying a few groceries. But the fact that I see familiar faces while out-and-about-town, and can just chat with people means the world to me. These are first steps toward being IN this community even if only in a small way.

Things I Found Today

Things I Found Today

BREAD: I went 3 metro subway stops north and took off walking east trying to find a bakery that Viola Restaurant had told me about. I don’t think I found it, but I did find a small loaf of dark, multi-grain bread and some green-olive-bread-sticks.

HEALTH FOOD STORE:  Continuing my quest for bread, I asked at a little produce shop. The guy pointed across and down the street to quite a large place that sells organic foods, produce, packaged goods, clothing, yoga items, books, etc. They had a fantastic display of breads!!! It was hard to choose one, but I selected a large round loaf that turned out to be kind of a sourdough whole wheat. Great! I also bought some organic orange marmalade to go on top of it for my breakfast.

SMOKED TOFU: The health food store sells smoked tofu: “tofu affumicato“. Hmm. Do you think it’ll satisfy my yen for my new favorite cheese, scamorza affumicato? Not likely! But, I thought I’d give it a whirl.

PORTA TICINESE: I had always stopped, when walking north, where Corso San Gottardo becomes Corso di Porta Ticinese. Today, I walked home southward, all the way from the 3 metro stops north. Wow. I had no idea what awaited me along that strip!

CILANTRO: Damnit. I wanted some “Mexican-style” beans and rice! But I haven’t been able to find cilantro, either dried or fresh. So I stopped in at a little cluster of street-side stalls today, heard music in Spanish, and stepped into the 8×8′ stall. Yes! I saw the familiar Goya brand and asked the woman where she’s from: Peru. I said, “great, we can speak in Spanish instead of Italian!” She’s been here for two years. Her coworker is from Guatemala. Funny how I felt at home. I bought black beans and fresh cilantro and will cook up something that answers my flavor craving. And I’ll be back at her stall when I need the Spanish side answered while here in Italy.

(That’s a long way to go for bread! There’s GOT to be something close to home!)

milanomap

Playing with my Food

Playing with my Food

So, I went in search of some “prosciutto crudo” today and found a little shop, Fratelli Giancola, selling “salumi e formaggi” (meats and cheese). I told him, in Italian, that I wanted to eat some melon wrapped with prosciutto and asked for a recommendation. He pointed, pulled a whole hock off a shelf, shaved some of the fat away, then started slicing paper thin. I could easily and readily buy prosciutto prepackaged at the grocery store, but I wanted to try walking into one of the many specialty stores. There was much he said to me that I didn’t understand, but at least I walked out the door with what I came for!

He also had yet another cheese that caught my eye. It’s a smokey knot! OK. I had to have some of that. I gestured the quantity and ended up with about 8 “knots”. They’re kinda like a string cheese, tied in a knot, then smoked. Mmm, mmm good! The thing is, they’re great for “playing with my food”. You can actually UNTIE the knot and then retie it! What fun, AND smokey, salty, tastey.

I’d better start discovering some fabulous fruits and vegetables instead of cheeses and meats (with a half inch layer of fat on them). What will my doctor say!? (OK. In a year, I’ll check my cholesterol level and make a decision then.) Right now, it’s “no holds barred”. Try it all. Jump in. EAT!

cheesesmokedknot

cheesesmokeuntied

Hey! It’s an “M” when untied!

Sunday Brunch, Day Three

Sunday Brunch, Day Three

I guess I could have gotten a bigger plate. A little of this, a little of that and all of a sudden the small plate was piled high with proscuitto crudo, scamorza affumicata, focaccia with carmelized onions, a few slices of bosc, some pan-seared green beans, and fresh tomato drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, of course. Not a bad little Sunday brunch thrown together with what’s in the fridge.

Sunday Brunch

Scamorza Affumicata

Scamorza Affumicata

Scamorza Affumicata: yum!

Mmmm. I discovered this cheese last summer and loved it: Scamorza Affumicata.  (“Scamorza” is the kind of cheese. “Affumicata” means it’s smoked.) So I found it again at the store yesterday and had a chunk this morning with some fresh tomato. Good breakfast?

From a Wikipedia entry:

Scamorza is an Italian cow’s milk cheese. It can also be made of other milks, but that is less common. It is a close relative of mozzarella.

Scamorza is a plastic curd (or stretched curd) cheese in which the fresh curd matures in its own whey for several hours to allow acidity to develop by the process of lactose being converted to lactic acidArtisanal cheesemakers would generally form the cheese into a round shape and then tie a string around the mass one third of the distance from the top and hang to dry. The resulting shape is pear-like. This is sometimes referred to as “strangling” the cheese. The cheese is usually white in color unless smoked. When smoked, the color is almond with a lighter interior.

It is reputed to melt better in baking than mozzarella. It can be substituted for mozzarella in most dishes. If using the smoked variety (scamorza affumicata), it adds a nice background flavor in replacement of mozzarella.

In Italy, scamorza is more commonly made in the south rather than the north. Technically, scamorza is a product of Puglia, where it is made throughout Bari province (Slow Food Editore. 2005. Italian cheese, p. 372.) However, it is available across the country, both in the unsmoked and smoked forms. Mario Batali cites grilled scamorza as a traditional dish in Neapolitan cooking. (Batali, M. 2008. Italian grill, p.33.) Scamorza in Bari is made from sheep milk. This is not necessarily true of cheeses called scamorza outside the EU.