seasonal & summer fruit Archives - Page 4 of 6

May 18, 2012 by Gina Stipo Leave a Comment

Fresh pecorino cheese & new fava beans are heralds of Spring

In Italy, many things are done in old-fashioned ways – growing vegetables, caring for animals, cooking traditional dishes – that inevitably tie the people to the seasons. Spring is a time of renewal and many spring dishes reflect the season. Egg-rich dishes and desserts are a result of an abundance of eggs the chickens lay as the days get warmer and longer. Lamb shows up on menus more often, often with fried spring artichokes. In Tuscany, one of my favorite spring pairings is fresh pecorino, or sheep’s milk cheese, and fresh fava beans – cacio e bacelli in Tuscan dialect – that is the perfect example of how the simplicity of a seasonal dish belies the complexity of nature.

Most of us are far removed from the farm and little nuances of life tied to the land frequently escape and astound us when we learn of them. In the second year I lived in Italy, it came as a revelation to me that in order for a sheep, or any animal, to give milk, it has to have a baby every year. Tuscany is a big producer of pecorino, or sheep’s milk cheese, and I learned the facts of natural cheese making when my favorite farmer, Fabrizio, closed his dairy in the late autumn. He explained to me, as if I was a small child, that in late summer a ram is put in with the sheep to impregnate them; once the ram’s job is done, he’s put back out to pasture until the next year. (When a Tuscan is up to his ears in work he’ll say “I’m busier than a billy goat in September!”) The pregnant sheep are then slowly weaned off of milking, ending altogether in late October or early November, and the dairy is closed for the winter.

In the late winter, the sheep give birth to little white lambs and it’s another harbinger of spring when you see them frolicking in the fields. As you can’t keep every lamb born, many of them are butchered, and the mammas go to milking again.

In a natural setting, where the farmer allows his animals to live as nature intended, fresh cheese – aged less than 30 days – is available only so long as fresh milk can be obtained. The industrial food complex has developed to give us fresh cheese all year round, the natural process is controlled with hormones and a sheep never even sees a billy goat.

When they begin milking the sheep in the spring, the first cheeses made are fresh pecorino – soft, buttery yellow and aged less than a month. Its arrival is welcome after a long winter of eating only aged cheeses. It coincides with the season of new fava beans. Sold still in their furry pods, they were planted in the fall and have ripened with the spring warmth. Cacio e bacelli, the classic pairing that is a perfect example of Tuscans honoring the seasonings.

At the Italian Table we’ve been thrilled to get our hands on both imported fresh pecorino and cases of fresh fava beans and have been making little baked custards with the cheese and serving them with blanched fava beans and fresh thyme from our herb garden!

May 12, 2012 by Gina Stipo Leave a Comment

Frying Spring Flowers

There is one week in the spring, sometime in May, where I’m driven to distraction by all the acacia and elder flowers lining the roads and fields. They look and smell heavenly, but I’m just praying to find the right opportunity to pick them and fry them before the end of the brief season.

Acacia smells beautiful, reminiscent of orange blossom, with white droplets bunched together like grapes, drooping from the branches. The elder has an unusual smell with large pale yellow lace-like flowers against dark green leaves.

Acacia is everywhere and generally has branches that grow within reach, giving easy access to the flowers. The elder (sambuco in Italian) is more difficult to pick as the bushes tend to grow on steep slopes on the sides of roads, maddeningly just out of reach.

I first fell in love with fried elder flowers when I was little girl in Italy. Not understanding the concept of seasons, I would come home with flowers all year long that to me resembled the fried elder I’d loved so much, hoping these were the ones and my mother would fry them for dinner. I was so often disappointed. Elder isn’t eaten or used much in Tuscany but in the northern regions they make tinctures and syrups of both the flowers and the berries.

This was the week and here are the pictures. We fried up a big batch of them in class yesterday, along with baby artichokes and some huge sage leaves.

March 27, 2012 by Gina Stipo Leave a Comment

Tuscan Vegetable Truths (or how a NY Journalist proved me wrong)

It was April 2008 and my friend Elizabeth Koenig, the head of PR for Castello Banfi in Tuscany, called me to ask if I would talk to a New York Times journalist, Mark Bittman, about vegetables in Tuscany. She said she couldn’t think of a better person for him to talk to about the vegetables in Tuscan cuisine. He said he didn’t think vegetables were very prominent in the Tuscan diet and there wasn’t anything interesting or new to learn. I said that after seeing our vegetable gardens, meeting our growers, and tasting some select dishes, he would appreciate how much a part of our lives vegetables are in Tuscany.

[Mark Bittman is leading the discussion in America on the ethics and health benefits of eating less meat, and has spoken out about the relationship between increased beef consumption and global warming. He writes The Minimalist column in the Times, has written several cookbooks, and was at that time traveling in Italy researching his cookbook ”How to Cook Everything Vegetarian”.] bittman.blogs.nytimes.com/

So Mark and his friend came to lunch. I don’t remember what I cooked, hopefully he does, I’m sure it involved seasonal vegetables like artichokes, asparagus and fava beans. We did spend several very pleasant hours in my old mill kitchen, eating and talking and drinking good local wine, and I don’t know if I convinced him of how much Tuscans love vegetables, but I did enjoy the experience as well as his book when it came out and started winning awards.

It was January 2011 when I went on an all-vegetable diet, also known as the yeast cleanse or acid/alkaline diet. It basically means you eat all the alkaline foods (vegetables/fruits) you can and shun any foods that cause your body to be acid (meat, dairy, alcohol, beans and grains). For two weeks I ate only vegetables and fruit; then for four months my diet was 80% veggies and fruits and 20% fish and chicken. I ate a lot of avocados, olives and almonds – the only alkaline nut – for some satisfying fat. If I had a snack attack I ate a mountain of pumpkin seeds in the shell. Sometimes I cheated but mostly I didn’t. It wasn’t the easiest thing I’d ever done, but it also wasn’t the worst. I started the diet in January while visiting my mom in Florida and had a pretty good rate of success in following it while I traveled around the US doing cooking classes. It took me a month to lose a single pound, but at the end of 4 months I had lost 20 and had a new relationship with vegetables.

The really hard part was when I got back to Tuscany in April. It was easy to continue my new way of eating as long as I stayed at home and cooked. But I’m a social animal. I wanted to go out to restaurants with friends and I frequently had to eat out with the culinary tour groups I lead. It didn’t take me long to realize Mark Bittman was right:

They don’t eat vegetables in Tuscany.

They sell them in the market. Piles and piles of artichokes, peas, leeks and greens.

They grow them in their gardens. Mountains of zucchini and peppers and tomatoes.

You can buy them and cook them at home, but God help you if you have to go out.

My options in restaurants and trattorias were always the same: sautéed spinach or swiss chard, heavy with heated oil, a bowl of plain lettuce leaves or some sliced green tomatoes (Tuscans like their tomatoes green). If I got lucky there might be a mix of zucchini, eggplant and peppers, which are great when grilled and lightly drizzled with olive oil, but an inedible mash of oversalted, overcooked veggies when roasted. Never wanting to be one of “those” people on a limited diet, repeating a litany of what they can’t eat, I often ordered whatever sounded good and then made up for it the next day by eating raw veggies for breakfast and lunch.

In Italy, eating seasonally means celebrating each vegetable or fruit in their season. Your attention and culinary efforts are concentrated on the goodness of each before they’re gone from the market until the next year. I knew that veggies like fresh beets, turnips, daikon radish, cilantro and jicama were “exotic” and impossible to find in Siena, and anticipated that my veggie diet would be more limited than it had been in the US. But what surprised me is that some really common things like broccoli are seasonal and missing from the stores, and the diet, for much of the year.

Mark Bittman was right. Tuscany has nothing new to add to the vegetable discussion. At one time, when Tuscans were poor peasants and country farmers, their diet was vegetable based, meat was scarce and saltless bread was the main starch. But in the last 40 years as Tuscany acquired wealth through international recognition of their wines and an increase in tourism, Tuscans quickly left their vegetable roots behind them and embraced piles of cured meat, grilled meat, braised meat and pasta.

I’m not as religious about the diet as I was a year ago. It turns out 2012 is the year of the cocktail, so I had to add alcohol back into my diet. I feel better when I eat lots of fresh vegetables, and my cooking classes include more vegetables and less meat than they used to, with a fresh green salad rounding out the meal before dessert is served. To date no one has noticed or complained. I tell them Tuscans have a long history of eating vegetables, which is true; now I’m admitting that they’ve left that history behind

December 29, 2011 by Gina Stipo Leave a Comment

Winter Radicchio “tardivo”

Winter greens such as kale and swiss chard are plentiful at this time of year, but another greens family that is common in Italy in the cold weather is cicoria, or chicory. The chicory family includes many different greens, including puntarelle from Rome, but the most welcome and famous are the radicchios from the Veneto.

Known as far back as Roman times, there are many varieties of radicchio, the round cabbage-shaped Chioggia being the best-known in the US market. Grown in California, it’s a year-round staple in US produce departments. But in Italy the time of year between Christmas and Easter brings a welcome flood of winter crop radicchio to the marketplace. Most of them are known for the name of the town in the Veneto region where they are grown.

The oldest and most famous is the Treviso, which is long and shaped like romaine lettuce; it has protected status and can only be grown around the town of Treviso and a few towns outside Venice and Padova. There is also the Castelfranco, with variegated creamy leaves speckled with red, and the Verona with full shaped round heads. Chioggia also derives its name from a town on the Venetian coast.

But the rarest of all and the radicchio that you simply must be in Italy to find is the winter tardivo, which means “late”. Known for its chef-hat shape, strong white ribs and trimmed root, these heads are harvested soon after the first November frost. Labor intensive to produce, after pulling them up with the root ball attached, they are kept in circulating spring water, which brings on crisp new shoots on the inside of the head. After several weeks they are plucked from the spring water and the root ball is carefully trimmed, with the dead leaves pulled away. They seemingly magically appear in the markets in mid-winter and are wonderful, crisp and bittersweet.

All radicchio are great raw in salads or can be grilled or sautéed with a sprinkle of olive oil and sea salt. A delicious risotto can also be made with sauteed radicchio, a bright and warm risotto to warm you in the cold mid-winter.

Buon Appetito! Gina

Risotto con Radicchio

2 cups fresh radicchio, chopped

1 onion, chopped finely

1/4 cup olive oil

2 cups white wine

2 cups arborio rice (1/4 cup per person)

6-8 cups rich vegetable or chicken broth

6 tbsp butter

¾ cup parmigiano or grana padana, grated

Make the vegetable broth with a chopped carrot, a celery stalk or two, half an onion, a few sprigs of fresh parsley, some peppercorns and a bay leaf; for chicken broth, add ½ a chicken. Simmer 60 minutes and after it’s cooked, discard the veggies and add salt to taste.

Heat the broth to almost boiling and keep hot.
In a large pot, sauté the onion in olive oil and 1 tbsp butter until soft, then add the radicchio and cook 2 minutes. Add the rice and stir to coat with oil, allowing the kernals to heat up. Add the white wine and stir until well cooked off. Add the broth one to two cups at a time, stirring until the liquid is absorbed with each addition. The rice should be soupy after each addition of hot liquid; as the liquid cooks off and is absorbed, the mixture becomes drier, at which point you add liquid to the soupy stage again. Continue this process until the rice is cooked, with the interior of the kernels being slightly al dente, about 15 minutes. Check for salt.
Add the butter and grated cheese and vigorously beat them in. The risotto will stiffen quickly, so serve it immediately, adding additional liquid as needed right before serving to maintain the characteristic creaminess of the dish.