Emilia Romagna Archives - Page 2 of 2

I spent some time recently with my good friend, pig farmer and professional olive oil taster, Daniele Barufaldi, and in the course of the day we started talking about food, our favorite dishes and how to make them. Daniele is originally from Emilia Romagna, the region north of Tuscany, and while he has lived near Siena for over 20 years with his Venetian wife and sons, he still maintains a freezer full of homecooked specialities, lovingly made by his mother. As he says it, he’s from Emilia.

United as one region today, Emilia and Romagna were separate regions until the 1860’s when the unification of the country of Italy took place. But the people still think of themselves as either “Emiliano” or “Romagnolo”. Divisions run deep in Italy and people relate more to their hometowns and families, and less to the regions they live in. What is oftentimes so difficult to understand about regional Italian cooking is, it isn’t regional. It’s local. It’s so local that neighboring towns will go to war about the right way, the only real way, to make a particular dish. Any dish. I have learned about Italian cooking from both working with the old ladies in the kitchen as well as listening to the old men at the table, who don’t actually do the work but are there to critique it. Or should I say I have gleaned what I can about Italian cooking from talking with the people.

So it should have come as no surprise when Daniele started arguing with me about the correct way to make tortellini. Tortellini in brodo is the pride of the Emilia Romagna table and one of my favorite dishes. The broth is satiny and complex tasting, yet simplicity at its most earnest. The pasta is rich and silky, stuffed with meat and redolent of nutmeg and pepper. Cooked in the broth and served with a dusting of parmigiano reggiano on top, it is heaven on a spoon.

Now, I’ve made tortellini many times. Learned to make them in Bologna years ago and the recipe I use is from a friend’s mother who was born and raised outside Bologna. Yet when I tell Daniele that I cook the pork and veal before pureeing it with mortadella, prosciutto, parmigiano and nutmeg, he raises such a fuss you would have thought someone peed in the ragu.

“NO!” he yells, “the pork and veal must be raw in the stuffing!”

“OH, Calmati!” I yell back at him. That’s the only way to hold your own in a food discussion with an Italian: you have to yell back. And there’s no better way to get a discussion going than to yell at the other person to Calm Down. “That’s how I was taught by two old women from Bologna who have made more tortellini in their lives that you have!” I rush to the defense of my education and honored teachers.

“Well, obviously your teachers were Romagnolan”, he concedes, “that’s how they make it in Romagna. In Emilia – where they REALLY know how to cook – the stuffing is raw before making the tortellini.”

I did not know that.

Then he puts the loaded question to me, with the raise of an eyebrow: “And how big do you make them??”

“Very small”, I answer. “A square inch of pasta wrapped around a tiny amount of meat stuffing and formed around your littlest finger.”

“No!”, he yells. “There can be no less than five (5) tortellini on a soup spoon!”

“Oh”, I say, really getting into the argument, “and how big is this spoon? Soup spoons come in all different sizes!”

“No! All soup spoons are the same size!”

Really??? I go to his cupboard, pull out the drawer and fish out three different sized soup spoons. “There”, I say, laughing. “You didn’t think that in Italy tortellini would be all different sizes but all the spoons would be the same!?”

We ended by agreeing that very soon we have to share a plate of tortellini in brodo. I hope he pulls out his stash of his mom’s tortellini. And if I can’t get five on my spoon, there’ll be hell to pay!

Tortellini in Brodo

This recipe, given to me by Grazia’s mother, cooks the meat with celery and onion before pureeing it with the other ingredients. If you use raw meat, as they apparently do in Emilia, leave out the celery and onion.

½ onion, chopped

1/2 stalk celery, chopped

½ lb veal in chunks

¼ lb pork in chunks

1 tbsp vegetable oil

1 cup white wine

1 slice mortadella

2 slices prosciutto di parma

½ cup grated parmigiano

¼ teas nutmeg, freshly grated

1 bay leaf

Salt, pepper

Saute the onion, celery, veal and pork in the oil until cooked through, add the bay leaf and white wine and cook off completely. Let cool. Place the mix in a food processor with the mortadella, prosciutto, nutmeg and parmigiano and puree completely. If mixture is too dry to mix, add a small amount of milk. Salt to taste.

Brodo

½ chicken

2 large beef short ribs

2 carrots, cleaned and cut into large pieces

2 celery stalks, cut into large pieces

1 onion, cut in quarters

1 whole tomato

3 parsley sprigs

10 whole black peppers

2 bay leaves

2 whole cloves

Cover all vegetables with fresh water and bring to a boil, add the chicken and beef and simmer for two to three hours, covered. If any foam rises to the top, skim off and continue cooking. After an hour you can add a tbsp of sea salt to taste.

If you like prosciutto, you gotta try culatello. Formally known as Culatello di Zibello, it is a luscious cured meat that’s literally the culo (that’s Italian slang for butt) of the pig. Whereas when making prosciutto, the entire leg of the pig is salted and dried in cool air at a high altitude, in making culatello only the largest, choicest muscle of the leg is used, turning a simple ham into a sublime experience.

Culatello di Zibello is your favorite prosciutto taken to an all new level. The town of Zibello in Emilia Romagna is located in the lowland plains north of the Appenine mountains, about 10 miles to the north of Parma, in an area prone to humidity. Because the entire leg with the bone doesn’t cure well in the high humidity and warmth of the plains, they cure just this choice piece of the leg with the bone out. The result is a cured meat that is so delicate and porky, so satiny, luscious and soft in the mouth you seriously consider never eating anything else again.

Culatello isn’t imported into the US so you have to search it out when you’re in Italy. Legally the only three cured pork products that can be imported are Prosciutto di San Daniele, Prosciutto di Parma and Mortadella di Bologna, based on old import restrictions because of parasites that existed in raw pork, implemented to protect the US consumer. Today, while these are allowed in, it’s not from just any Italian producer but from specific producers that have met the strict guidelines set by the US FDA and have passed stringent inspections from US FDA inspectors. Sure do wish they spent that kind of time and energy inspecting the meat packing plants in America.

Not being able to export their exceptional culatello to the US concerns the people of Zibello, of course. They see the market strength of neighboring Parma and they want a piece of the American pie. Back in 2009, shortly after the last Presidential election, I was talking with a culatello producer about the US import ban. He was telling me how difficult it is when American food writers and chefs come to see, taste and fall in love with culatello. But since they aren’t able to get it at home, they stop writing and talking about it. But, he continued, now that Obama had been elected President of the United States, the locals were convinced that soon culatello would be recognized for the superior pork product it was, and very soon the ban on it would be lifted.

Now, having spent the entire 2008 campaign and election in Italy, I was aware that people outside of America had high hopes for our new President and were certain that Barack Obama would save the world. But it had never been made so clear to me in how many small, myriad ways Obama was expected to do this. An obscure cured pork product that many Italians have never heard of, much less Americans, and that even the majority of well-connected foodies don’t even know exist, was going to be brought to the forefront of importation issues by the election of a man in a distant country. No matter how wonderful or delicious or regionally important this product may be, those expectations were astounding. Oh how I wish it were so! Perhaps if we all spent more of our time and energy finding and eating pork products as excellent as Culatello di Zibello, peace might reign in the world! Make food not war!

Buon Appetito! Gina