The Saratoga Farmer's Market was buzzing today. Summer's bounty is really showing nicely. 
Though, the unusually severe storms from Lake Erie to the Hudson Valley have taken their toll. 
I believe some type of aid is being considered to help the farmer's in this part of the state.
It's that time of the year in cucuzzaville. Everyone is going cucuzz' over cucuzza. I don't have room for it in my garden and you won't find it much at the green markets up here in the great Northeast, unless there is a concentration of southern Italians loudly discussing its merits, the sacred Cassata Siciliana or how to make espresso. So the Italian Wine Guy has posed the archetypal question: which wine with Priapic googootz? The answers are as numerous as there are stripes on a three piece seersucker suit with matching seersucker accessories.
Confession: I blantly stole the above photo for obvious reasons.
Update: googootz
Do I deserve to drink Pellegrino's Passito di Pantelleria? The last time that I had a Passito di Pantelleria was around the millenium. I was working at Delaware Plaza Wines in Delmar, NY part time and noticed that there were a couple of bottles of this wine in the store. They had been there for a time and I was lucky enough to snap them up at a discount. The viscous sap of the vine yields a wine that is uniquely flavored. Apricots, honey and, North African scirocco laden, siren-like.
Calypso held Odysseus on Pantelleria, "daughter of the winds", for seven years. No doubt she fed him this intoxicating amber to hypotize and seduce him. His father was calling him home, but Calypso's siren song and wine drowned out the wailing plea. What awaited him at home was not exactly Walton-esque. So can you blame him?
Goes well with almonds and Black Stalin.
Our cities are changing right before our eyes. They are calling it an inversion.
And then there is the question of salt and pepper on our tables or some tables.
I just harvested my best garlic crop ever. I finally am learning how to grow it right. Twelve (12) pounds of German White, German Red, Spanish Roja and Music!
I won't be becoming a Jain anytime soon. After digging each head out carefully so as not to bruise the delicate skin, I first put them in our screened in room outdoors with a fan for air circulation. Then the humidity came back pronto and all the babies went into the cellar next to a dehumidifier for 4-6 weeks. I roasted the few heads that I did bruise. Ah, garlic gold...
The new cult favorite is the dirt farmer.
It's old news that Waiter Rant is out of the closet on a book tour. I used to read him faithfully when he worked at The Bistro in some mythical Manhattanesque setting. Nyack it turns out. I wish him well. He writes with passion, compassion and wit. He put in his shifts and dealt with some of the dregs of humanity that happened to be affluent, arrogant and cheap.
In other dining related news, this story in the NY Times about the closing of the Cheyenne Diner is a touching tale.
Adam Roberts of the always electrifying Food TV interviews that feared lady Regina Schrambling of Gastropoda and Gastriques. I must admit that I would not want to be in her way if her fangs were meant for my flesh. I also must admit, since I am not privy to certain insider information, that sometimes I don't know what the hell she is talking about. She is however very helpful in translating some of the code, monikers and gilded lexicon for me. I have to forgive her since she lives on the UWS and you know what they say about OWLS up in that part of Manhattan. Only joking, Regina. Really.
When I mentioned the cost of living to my next door neighbor the other day he replied, "Oh, it's not as bad they make it out to be."
There are four people in his family and they own five cars including one brand new Honda truck, a six cylinder that gets about 15 miles a gallon. He just downsized from an 8 cylinder truck that guzzled 15 gallons per mile.
Hummers, bummers, summers, gas fillups, 
oil bills, AC bills, groceries, outrageously expensive super-duper cult wines
and just about everything else. On a brighter note, we have a gift certificate to John Andrews on Saturday night. Santa paid for the gift certificate. K. has been in high intensity knee pain for a while and she needs it, badly. We will drive to New Lebanon first to meet up with friends and admire their gardens. They have expended lots of money and sweat tilling the earth. I'll take pictures. I promise. Their gardens make our yard look like desolation row. In driving there and back, we'll probably spend more money on gasoline than on the meal. From New Lebanon to South Egremont we'll ride in their new Mini Cooper club car. 
Things have changed dramatically, but the average American does not want to admit it. They have been accustomed to a certain standard of living that they refuse to concede. This attitude is part of the reason that we are where we are today. It's a persistently arrogant image and I don't particularly like it.
Paging pathology, please. It's not all gloom and doom. But remember those Sunday afternoon drives in the country?"To knock a thing down, especially if it is cocked at an arrogant angle, is a deep delight of the blood."
- George Santayna
Up a similar avenue, my friend Alfonso has some car and consumption images for you and his thoughts on the situation as it affects vino Italiano.
After all, it is a dog's life.
The price of pizza ingredients has forced Italians to eat more pasta than pizza.
Chris DeBarr has left The Delachaise in New Orleans. He is a very progressive multi-talented chef who turned The Delachaise from a wine bar into a food destination during very critical time for the city, postdiluvian to now. He is also an adept writer. Here's a link to his journal entry about his decision to move forward. Also from the Times-Picayune.
The Mexicans, without whom there would be no uber-hipster restaurants that charge $45 for a ribeye, should be the ones receiving accolades at the annual James Beard awards. Not the tin chefs. In a similar vein the James Beard Foundation has issued a white paper on the state of American cuisine. How timely. Welcome to the 21st century.
My mouth is dry. I think it all started with the still from "8½". Looking down from the tethered foot over the shore. In the documentary, Fellini: I'm A Born Liar, he talks about spontaneity and the ability to directly express oneself. Interestingly, the maestro refers to this as a type of religious experience; this direct spontaneous expression. This vitality is the touchstone of art for him. It is fascinating to listen to him talk of his ability to play with the stuff of neurosis-psychosis by using them as props on the set of life. The sedated Roberto Benigni on Fellini: "He's like a magician, a paesano who takes you by the hand and leads you to the edge of the abyss so that you can look into it!" I ordered the DVD since I don't have Tivo and only saw the last half of it. Which leads me to another Italian phenomena, the Tarantella. I have 16mm film transferred to dvd that my father took of my Uncle George doing the tarantella at my grandmother's house after a wedding. His movements are graceful and dramatic, his coal-black hair glistening in the light of the small kitchen. 
I can always conjure up him dancing in that kitchen where so many good times were had over so many good meals. Afterall, it was the Christmas Eve kitchen.
Aside: In one of the Marx Brothers films, after Chico plays a song on the piano, Groucho asks him if he could play something allegro pizzicata. "You do know allegro pizzicata?" asks Groucho. Chico answers, "Sure. I know all the Pizzicata's. Jimmy, Tony..."
Which all logically leads to my friend Alfonso's recent post. You can tell the heat and humidity have really kicked in from the tenor of his latest posts. They contain a heightened element of sun-dazed fantasia. This is a good thing since he is excellent at confabulation to begin with. These additional heat-driven bass notes and overtones weave a tapestry of words and images that are not only fun to read but leave one curious for more. So, Alfonso is bitten by a number of spiders in the heat of the Texas night and this is what happens. "...every sip of wine that isn't Riesling-with-lamb is wasted" and someone's mixing up the medicine in the basement. Ooo la la.
"Tarantella" by Shai Bachar
Si signore
The heat has struck. We are chilling Provencal rose and whites. Many years ago I read Victor Hazan's "Italian Wine". At the time, I knew nothing about wine, but I knew what I liked. Victor's wife Marcella is the person credited with introducing balsamic vinegar to this country. She later regretted its omnipresence in American cuisine. Paging Sherry vinegar. Mr. Hazan's outdated book only addresses red Italian wines. He said that he would not write about Italian white wines since he didn't consider Italian white wines worthy of the time that he gave to the mighty reds of ancient Enotria. I believe old Victor might eat those words today. I too am partially guilty of the red wine prejudice. When I first started drinking wine it was Mateus, May wine, Lambrusco. I was raised on Coke and Pepsi. So it's not surprising that sweet wines were and still are appealing to my palate. From Lambrusco I landed in California, i.e. Chardonnay, faux Chenin Blanc, limp Sauvignon Blanc. Butterland whites with oak to spare, minimal acidity, dead-on-your-palate wines. I then discovered white Burgundy and it was refreshing for my palate to educate me out of the darkness of what passed for white wine from California. For me, white Burgundy has a purity that California can't match. I still have a soft spot for white Burgundy. Backing up a bit, in the mid-70's, I met a woman at work whose family hailed from the rugged Abruzzo region of Italy. We became friends and she introduced us to home cooking that we had never experienced before. She was/is enamored of the French style and even considered moving to Provence at one time. She made dacquoise once for my birthday. It was a revelation. She also prepared Italian feasts that were extraordinary. Homemade pizza and roasted homemade sausage with roasted peppers, all with an Abruzzese twist. She and her husband encouraged us to visit Italy. We opted for Sicily for our first trip. It couldn't have been a better choice. While there we drank Etna rosato during the hot nights that oozed jasmine and laughter. As I sit in the continental humidity of upstate NY, I recall the bountiful buffeta rustica, the chill of those Etna rosatos and the sweet night air of Sicily. Back to the wine trail. In the late 80's, I had a red wine conversion. It was not a St. Paul of Tarsus type conversion. Mine was more gradual, but nonetheless a 180 degree one. It took the form of a humble Rioja coupled with grilled lamb. Within a short time, I started to try all kinds of reds from Spain, Italy and France. I also stopped drinking whites, almost totally. Even in the dead heat of summer, I would drink reds, shunning whites and only conceding an occasional Provencal rose. In the past few years, I have begun slowly to return to white wines. In addition to Burgundy, there are many fine whites from Italy, Spain, Germany, Alsace, The Loire, New Zealand, California. But I still find it difficult to pull the trigger for a $25 white wine. My red wine eye is still coloring my perception. I know it and have to try to temper my prejudice. Maybe the heat and humidity will help sway me.
I am not a cocktail drinker. Really, I'm not, contrary to rumors and misdirected innuendo. I have always loved the word innuendo ever since I heard Groucho use it in a Marx Brothers movie. "That's what I always say. Love flies out the door when money comes innuendo". Back to the point of being shaken. I do dabble in mixing cocktails for people. I stick mainly to vodka, tequila and rhum concoctions. It sort of like being an amateur alchemist- mixologist. Lo, alcoholic researchers have determined that shaken martinis are the way to go. I do shake 'em.
I have always loved eating ricotta cheese. I like the texture and disagree that it is bland. Non-commercial quality fresh ricotta has tangy flavor, not caciocavallo flavor, but flavor nonetheless. Ricotta salata is great with pasta, in fried greens, on crostini or pizza. So now it's a revelation that quality ricotta is a not only flavorful, but very adaptable.
The best part of Memorial Day was the day after. We had Duval-Leroy chillin' and a T-Bone marajunatin'. We started the day with doppio cappuccinos. Things looked pretty good. The neighborhood was real quiet which is a rarity. It's usually a few screaming children, barking psychotic dogs, internal combustion engines i.e. mowers, more mowers, weed wackers, leaf blowers, chain saws, rototillers. Gas @$4+ a gallon and people are still fertilizing their lawns and mowing a lot more than they have to. Hey folks, fertilizer is also petrochemically based, but that doesn't phase 'em. Who's crazy? Who said humanity is basically ignorant and stubbornly blind? I kid you not. We saw this together. Our neighbor 2 houses over mowed his huge lawn plus an adjacent vacant lot, not owned by him, on Saturday and then he mowed it again yesterday! He has a sit down that is probably 10-15 horsepower. Update, K. says that he mowed again today. God, help us. Suburbia.
At about 2 pm, my stomach started to get a little weird. My allergies haven't been wonderful either and I wonder if there is a connection. Then I started to throw up everything, which was not much. A biscotti, yogurt, peaches, honey. Ah, and cappuccino. I was a mess for 6 hours. The stomach pain was a delight and nothing I took touched it. I finally took two Tylenol PM and the pain eased up. This is the second time that this has happened and I guess that I should consult the good doctor. I slept until 7 a.m., thankful for no pain when I awoke. In the meantime, I think I should have something with a doppio, like a few cannoli or bag of sfogliatelle. I did manage to raise my glass of Champagne to a friend, but will try again tonight with more gusto.
The treatment of milk and its consumption has been a source of debate for years. A local restaurant sent me a newsletter a while back and in it they told why they buy their milk products from Meadowbrook Farms in Clarksville, NY, one of the only remaining family owned dairies in NY State. The flavor of the milk is the primary reason that we only use their heavy cream when we make ice cream. Here's another reason:
"By any rational measure, this world belongs to microbes. They were mastering the subtleties of evolution three billion years before the first multicellular organism appeared. They continue to evolve and adapt in a tiny fraction of the time it takes us to reproduce once. They flourish in polar ice caps, in boiling water, and amid radioactive waste. We exist only because some of them find us useful. Ninety percent of the cells in our bodies are bacteria. The entirety of human evolution has taken place in an environment saturated with microbes, and humans are so firmly adapted to the routine of sheltering allies and rebuffing enemies that the removal of either can devastate our defense systems."
Shuna Lydon has a remarkable post on chef owners who work the line. The energy and extreme dedication evident in his written words are amazing. This should be printed and tacked up on the walls of kitchens everywhere.
Gastropoda on those wide open loud mouths in restaurants:
"Too bad Citizens Against Breast-Feeding is a media hoax. If this country managed to ban “offensive” public consumption, we could move on to outlawing something truly disgusting: Mickey D on the C train. But I could see a real group forming, one that would actually encourage breast-feeding in restaurants if it shut the howler monkeys up — up to age 12, if necessary. Failing that, my friend Groffoto has an interesting idea for fighting back against oblivious parents whose human larvae are allowed to ruin everyone else’s meal. Their photos should be taken with cellphones and posted in an e-hall of shame. It works for flashers down where the Whoppers go. Why not for parents instilling bad behavior in their spawn? Unfortunately, I was going to say we could call it fulldiaper.com, but that’s taken. By someone selling more crap to the overindulged to keep them too strapped to hire baby sitters."
Carlo Middione's "The Food of Southern Italy" is a well written thoroughly researched cook book. It is loaded with many helpful tips and anecdoctal historical facts that make for great reading. The recipes are simple and flavorful. It is the sun drenched food of Southern Italy. In the book is a recipe for Sfinciuni di San Vito, a Sicilian type of pizza that has a filling between two layers of dough. The filling is made up of some sauteed onion, salami (I used a decent commercial imported soppressata thinly sliced into strips), cubed caciocavallo cheese, black pepper, hot red pepper flakes and some marinara sauce. The first layer of dough is placed in a oiled 9" cake pan or another other round pan. The filling is spread over the dough and topped with the second layer of dough that is drizzled on top with olive oil. Set in a 400 degree oven for a half hour and turnover onto a plate. NB The next time roll out the bottom dough as well as the top, stupid. The wine we had was a 2006 Cusamano Benuara ($17 pre-discount) that is mostly Nero d'Avola with some Syrah. It is one of the better Sicilian reds at this price point. I believe it garnered a tre bichere recently. It was a great match for the sfinciuni, a wine with gripping acidity, backbone strength, ample fruit that finishes smoothly, yet assertively at the same time. It has a glass stopper so watch for that when you reach for the cork screw.
Toni Morrison's essay about cooking out:
The Good Grape offers 25 things that he learned while in the wine business. As for #13, when in San Francisco last May we always replied to "where are you from?" with "New York". It was assumed that we were from the City and we never offered further geographical latitudinal clarification. There wasn't enough time. We were there only 5 days. #18 is not a good thing for people like me, i.e. people who would like good QPR wine that they can't obtain anywhere else delivered to their door. To # 21, I would add that most of the restaurants in the major cities of this country would be up the same narrow creek. Napa, Napa, Napa, but #23 says the mojo is elsewhere.
Mark Folse bids farewell to Popeyes Chicken founder, Al Copeland.
You are looking forward to a good meal in a restaurant. You need it. It's been a tough day or week. You have a good appetite. When you enter the RESTaurant you feel a slight glow as the aromas of the kitchen fill the room. Gastropoda and consort are then seated next to a howling hyena. What galls me is the limp parents of these brats. They are the most pathetic examples of attempted rearing. This sometimes continues until the child grows up and starts collecting automatic weapons in the garage, for fun. The deaf, the dumb, the blind.
Easter dinner was marinated Moorish style lamb chops grilled over charcoal, roasted garlic mashed russets with olive oil and a bit of grated Argentinian Parmesan & Pecorino and sauteed zucchini. I have started to prune the grape vines and keep all the clippings to later use on the charcoal grill. I forget to save olive pits. These are also good on charcoal for added flavor. For vino we had a 2004 Salanques Priorat. I think we should have cellared this wine for another few years, mainly because of the Cabernet Sauvignon in the blend. It was somewhat tight at first but did open up as it aired. It is very concentrated and centered with plenty of grip in the middle. The depth of the wine was impressive as was the silky texture in the mouth. Eric Solomon gives Jorge Ordonez a run for his money. We also had a 2005 Ridge Ponzo. Ridge never disappoints. They reflect the personality of the the winery. The wines are always straight forward and accessible. From the label to the disdain for cult status, Ridge is a solid Gibraltar in California.
I first had Popeyes Fried Chicken in the Bronx many years ago. My mate was in Loehmann's and the fried chicken was across the street. The chicken was good. The batter was right, not overloaded, falling off the chicken. Crispy, hot and spicy and the chicken moist. I lost track of the time. That's what good fried chicken should do to you. It was a chain, but it was still good, then, 20 years ago. By the time Popeyes reached upstate NY, the magic was gone.
Al Copeland started Popeyes (no apostrophe since he said he could never afford one) in Arabi in 1972. He died a young very wealthly man. $319 million and an income of $13 million a month. His NOLA obit details his feud with Anne Rice, the vampire author who is now writing novels about Jesus Christ, yes that Christ, known in New Orleans for her flamboyant stunts. It is worth a read. He lead an eventful life. As Poppy Z. Brite said "I always liked him for being such a fly in Anne Rice's ointment, and while most people assume that Lenny in my Liquor novels is Emeril, he owes at least as much to Big Al. Rest in Pieces, Al, preferably a box of 12 spicy ones."
The world famous Cuban maestro Cachao has died at 89.
Well, it's Holy Week for all you non-Christians and pagan-heathenists. Then again, there is the Vernal Equinox coming up. Without day equaling night, none of this would exist, would it?
Alfonso On The Wine Trail in Italo-Americano California dines in a few posh overpriced real Italian eateries on that venerable pacific coast and discovers the secret ingredient that keeps the faithful returning to these temples of Italian food. Since it is Holy Week, he somehow manages to avoid the use of profanity. I could never do that.
"Who therefore knows the salt and its solution knows the hidden secret of the wise men of old. Therefore turn your mind upon the salt, for in it alone (i.e. the mind) is the science concealed and the most excellent and most hidden secret of all ancient philosophers."
The trumpet has played a vital part in the history of the city of New Orleans. Irvin Mayfield views libraries as musical notes drifting through city, creating a sense of community.
"A library is democracy inside four walls, the freedom to information," he said. "Jazz is democracy we hear."
I think this marketing ploy is a little shallow, demographically speaking, but wine for drama queens? Turn up the refrigerator.
I keep repeating the mantra of "The Last Spritzer" mention, but Lost New York City posted these handwritten signs at The Old Town Bar in NYC. I could not resist. In the other drink-related news, a few choice quotes from the hilarious Kingsley Amis:
I like reading Catavino, a site devoted to Spanish and Portuguese wines. The couple up and moved to Spain, realizing a dream. They arrived poor and without work, but have survived and are thriving. Videos of Rafael Vivanco and Marie Jose Lopez Heredia.
Professor Morris has asked to for my Limoncello recipe. Since I don't have a personally derived one, I am posting Limoncello all'Antonio. Antonio Sapia tends bar at Bar Saint Honore in Taormina, Sicily. Since Sicilians lemons are over there in all their succulent splendor, Meyer lemons work best here.
10 organic lemons, washed
1 quart vodka
2 cups sugar
3 cups water
With a vegetable peeler, remove all the zest from the lemons and place in a glass jar with a tight-fitting lid. Add the vodka and leave in a cool dark place for one month. In the meantime drink whatever you like. I would be drinking rustic reds from southern Italy, Spain, southern France, Greece, Australia with an occasional Californy thrown in, all in Lenten moderation. After the month has passed (if you were drinking good wines the month will fly by), combine the sugar and water in a saucepan and bring to a boil, stirrring until the sugar is dissolved. Let it cool completely. Add the sugar syrup to the vodka mixture. Strain to remove the lemon zest and pour into a glass bottles. Keeps indefinitely stored in a cool place. Serve chilled. Cannoli optional. I have had homemade Limoncello. Take it from me, it's worth the effort.
A few weeks ago we tried making meatballs and they came out pretty good but... This I know is only interesting to meatball freaks who are in search of the perfect golden browned meatball. Last time I did not use my memory and good judgement. My mother used to take me to Gentile's Meat Market in Westerly, RI. "Goose" Gentile was usually the person who waited on my mother while he gave it to me good. He knew I was a little shy and he was good about it. The meat of the matter. One pound freshly ground round or chuck, half pound each of ground pork and veal. More garlic, parsley and freshly grated Pecorino Romano from Murray's Cheese in NYC. These tweaks made a big difference and is the cause of my narcoleptic state at the keyboard right now.
Alfonso Cevola, the guy on the Italian Wine Trail, works for a large wine and liquor conglomerate deep-in-the-heart of Dallas, Texas. He is their Italian wine man. Yet, in the stupifying mega-world of wine sales, margins, profits, promotional gimmicks, 3 tier systems, spoofilation, fetishism, wine ghosts, wine geek-speak, points, pairings and poseurs, he manages to stay close to the earth and vine. It helps that he was raised in a vineyard. Sometimes I believe he channels Melo Minnella, although still living, and Rilke. In the above post he has some links to some fine bloggers that he has met via the vine. It beats me how I got included in the group. Thanks, Alfonso.
Thomas Pellechia, author of "Garlic, Wine and Olive Oil" and "WINE: The 8,000 Year- Old Story of the Wine Trade", blogs at the fine, clearly written and informative Vinofictions. I have yet to read his book on the wine trade, but recently had the pleasure of reading his "Garlic, Wine and Olive Oil". In the book he gives his mother's recipe for meatballs. This was one of the highlights of reading the book because it brought back many memories of cooking and wine. His mother's recipe is very similar to my mother's recipe. It was an undisputed fact in my family that my mother made the best meatballs. We haven't made meatballs in many a moon, but tonight we will rectify that sin. Here's Thomas' recipe:
My mother soaked 4 slices of stale Italian bread in milk, squeezed out the milk and then broke them up into small pieces instead of breadcrumbs and she added a 1/2+ cup of grated Pecorino cheese to the mix.
Flatten out the meat on a board. Place the garlic in the center of the meat. Crack open an egg and blend it into the meat and garlic. Add 1/4 cup of bread crumbs or half of the soaked bread and roll mixture into a ball. Make a crevice in the ball and add the res of the bread crumbs or bread and 1/4 cup parsley. Knead for a few minutes. Add the rest of the parsley and black pepper and mix well. Break of chunks of the meat and roll into small meatballs about 1-2 inches in diameter. Fry the meatballs in olive oil on medium until well browned on each side. Lay out cooked meatballs on a paper towl to drain. Try not to eat them all before they go into the sauce. This is the most difficult part of the recipe.
Update: Some of the meatballs made it into the sauce. We had them on foccaccia just as the Superbowl got underway. There are a few things that we would change with our next attempt. I would not buy a meatloaf mix. You don't know the proportion of beef, pork and veal. Ordinarily, I would never do this, but I was lazy and the weather that day was tricky. The next time I will have a butcher grind the meats for me. I would add more cheese and include some caciocavallo. Lastly, I would add more garlic and parsley. I don't think we used the amounts that Thomas' recipe call for. But they were damned good.
Delizie di Calabria
produces some of the best condiments that I have ever had, but I am somewhat very prejudiced. I am half Calabrese. I first encountered these delicacies in Marshalls a few years ago. My cart would sometimes have 10 or more jars of this gold in it. The glass jars are covered in burlap, contadina style. The first jar we tasted was a hot red pepper mix in olive oil, Arrabbiata.
Fiery and full of flavor. Nothing like it. A tarantella for the taste buds. We have since had the black and green olive purees, the cream of artichokes, the cream of arugula, the tomato bruschetta, stuzzichino--an otherworldly mix of eggplant, sundried and green tomato, olives, artichokes, porcini mushrooms and hot red peppers in olive oil. All delicious, all good. Full of the taste of the earth of Calabria. Most of the produce from Calabria, since it is grown on land not chemically treated, is prized by northern Europeans. So not much of it, if any, makes its way over the pond to our plates and bread. Calabria also raises cattle that feed off chemically clean grass. Thus, the beef is also snapped up and finds its way to fine restaurants in northern Europe. The USDA would be sure to stop the importation of this beef anyway. If any of my 2,587+ unique viewers come across any of these condiments, please do not try them yourself. E-mail me and I will promptly provide you with my shipping address. I will reimburse you for your expense, time and legal fees. Got Paypal, you get the money pronto if not sooner. Two other brands are also very good, Coluccio in Brooklyn and Tutto Calabria. They are somewhat easier to find, but I think Delizie di Calabria has got 'em beat.
With the wind chill around zero, it was time to stoke up the Jotul woodstove and make some pizza dough. I am somewhat lazy so the Kitchen Aid dough hook did all the kneading. In all, it takes about 10 minutes to make the dough. I use 10% whole wheat flour, 40% bread flour and 50% high gluten bread flour for the dough. I have found that our local co-op sells superior flours compared to the supermarket. It makes a difference in the texture, crispness and flavor of the crust. The fire from the stove helps to leaven the dough that is nestled in a warmed ceramic bowl covered with two towels. After rising for about 6 hours, I roll out the dough. This is where K. comes in to take the helm. She puts the dough in oiled heavy gauge baking sheet pans. This pizza is topped with canned San Marzano tomatoes cooked in olive and garlic, shallots, oil cured olives, mozzarella, caciocavallo, assiago, roasted red peppers, pepperoncino and fresh basil.
With the oven at 475 degress for an hour, K. first puts just the dough in the oven for about 5 minutes, then tops it with the cheeses for another five minutes and lastly the tomatoes, peppers and olives for another five minutes. To preserve crisp crust, heat up leftover pizza, if there is any, in a frying pan. As for vino rosso, I have written about this 2000 Etna Rosso previously. Each time I taste this wine it reveals a little more of its secret, mysterious origin on the slopes of the fire-spitting volcano, Mongibello. I have since learned and tasted that the Nero Mascalese grape ages well. The blackness of the fruit reflects the terrain and temperature extremes where these grapes mature. There is a centered complexity here that is not overwrought. The black fruit's acidity has harmonized well with its year in oak. Needless to say, it pairs well with homemade pizza. Now if I could only get my hands on some Magma.
Italian mozzarella made from buffalo milk is completely different than what passes for the same thing in the rest of the world. The flavor and texture are far superior. These cattle in Campania are descendents of an ancient breed of water buffalo brought to Italy by the Goths (not the ones who dress in black with pasty skin and listen to horrible noise) in migrations during the Middle Ages. Slashfood says that many of these cattle have to be destroyed because of a bacterial infection.
This time of the year, after the holidays and before spring, can be rough and it also can be productive. Seeds to be ordered, planning the garden, taxes, reading, firewood, walks, reverie and, of course, eating and drinking heart warming food and wine.
Sicilian Pasta
The other night we roasted some fine eggplant sourced from Honduras in the local market. One inch cubes combined with olive oil in a bowl and roasted at 400°for 30 minutes or until well browned. Several cloves of minced garlic sauteed in olive oil until they color some. For flavor, don't be afraid to cook garlic enough to color it. One 20 oz.can plum tomatoes (try to get San Marzano they're worth it) carefully put into the garlic and cook for 30 minutes on medium-low heat. Add 2 tbs capers packed in salt, 10 chopped oil cured olives, 4 anchovies minced. Season with salt, fresh black pepper and pepperoncino. Cook for another 5 minutes. Add roasted eggplant and keep warm while you cook your pasta of choice. We cooked Maniconi from Pasta La Porta in Cosenza, Calabria.
A 2005 Cusamano Benuara paired very well with the dish. The acidity of the wine played off the sweetness of the tomatoes, saltiness of the capers and anchovies, earthiness of the olives and heat of the pepperoncino. The Benuara has a sturdy backbone and a very pleasing taste on the palate. The fruit is forward enough but not excessive. The finish is long and reverberates with the intensity of the sun that ripened these grapes huddled low to the earth. For a more lucid and discussion of acidity, please read this great post at Vino Fictions. Thomas Pellechia is a fine writer who clarifies aspects of wine making so that one can easily grasp what is happening in a certain process.
Court Bouillon de Poisson Guadeloupe-Martinque **
Marinate fish in 3 tbs lime juice, one fresh hot pepper crushed, one clove garlic crushed, one tsp. salt and water to cover for one hour. Drain and discard marinade. Heat olive oil in pan, add shallots, scallions and garlic. Saute until shallots are tender. Add tomatoes, salt, pepper and cook for a few minutes more. Add fish and cook for two minutes turning once. Add puree de piment, parsley, bay leaf, thyme and wine. Cook uncovered for 10-15 minutes or until fish is done. Mix remaining olive oil and lime juice and pour over fish. Rice is nice.
*Puree de Piment from Guadeloupe is one of the hottest sauces that I have ever had, yet it is very flavorful at the same time. I was lucky enough to discover it and their Creole mustard when we first went there in the early 90's. Since then I was fortunate through zouk music to befriend a Guadelopean who on his last visit to his mother's home on Basse Terre sent me two jars of these magnificent peppers. They are pureed and then combined with oil. The oil sits at the top and you carefully spoon tiny amounts into the dish. You can substitute a good habanero-based hot sauce from the Caribbean or Costa Rica.
**Adapted from Elizabeth Ortiz's "The Complete Book of Caribbean Cooking"
We had a 2004 Reserve Calandray Cotes du Roussillon Villages with this. I don't believe any wine could stand up to the scoville units in this dish. I didn't use as much puree de piment as I usually do. So it is unfair to say much. For QPR, the wine has good aromas and fruit. The alcohol vapors disappear after being opened for a while.
Once in a while we splurge and buy Italian artisinal pasta. This year I put two packages in Kathy's Christmas stocking. Update, I just bought two more packages. The rigatoni were tricolored, yellow-semolina, green-spinach and pink-pepperoncino. First, K roasted a few fennel bulbs with garlic and olive oil. After that she chopped up some sundried tomato along with some plum tomatoes plus the fennel fronds and fried them in olive oil. Then she combined the tomato mix spiked with a good dose of pepperoncino and some chopped roasted red peppers with the roasted fennel. I fried a patty of our homemade sausage until well browned and combined that with the fennel, tomato and red peppers. Cook the rigatoni and top it with the above mix. K had bought a bottle of Torbreck Juvenile that I didn't care for. So I opened a trusty bottle of 2004 Vale do Bonfim Douro Reserva ($12.99 before discount). It didn't disappoint. This modest well balanced red from Portugal's famed Port-motherlode valley stood up to the robust flavors and heat of the rigatoni and didn't flinch once. Oak and fruit are harmonius. Decent acidity, aromatic and savory. Watch out for Portugal when they tune up their commercial wine engine.
For the sausage*:
3 lbs ground pork
2 tbs salt
4 tbs+ fennel seed
2 tbs cayenne pepper
1 cup dry sherry
Mix and let sit overnight in a covered bowl in the refrige. Form into patties, fry a small amount to taste for seasoning and freeze.
Props to Linda DiVirgilio for the sausage recipe.
Alfonso is making lists again. You know what that means. Lots of excellent photography interlaced with cryptic warnings about fine legs, fishnet stockings, short skirts, donkeys, cougars, a blue pantheon, working for a living, Park Slope, robes, 30 somethings attitudes, toilets, last calls, last tango, chefs plugging bad donuts, inversion tables, live bait, SUV's and the funkification of Italy. To top it all, he sat down with Mr. Potato head and interviewed him, tongue in pork cheeks.
Menu For Hope 4 is the fourth year that food and wine bloggers have cobbled together a worldwide charity event. Last year they raised over $60k for the UN World Food Program. This year the money is going to a school lunch program in Lesotho, Africa. For every $100 donated, $87 goes directly to the school lunch program. The range of raffle prizes are amazing. It's a win-win. If you win a case of Petite Sirah or have dinner with Eric Asimov, you are also helping to provide school lunches to people who need them.
Go to On The Wine Trail in Italy or Chez Pim, the original creator of the whole goodwill shabang. Rather than buy that extra present that someone doesn't really need, give a few bucks to people who need food to fuel their bodies so that they can learn at school. After all, Americans spend $487 Billion for Christmas each year. Yes, $487 Billion.
Tonight, we marinated lamb chops in olive oil, paprika, cumin and ground red pepper. Also roasted fingerling potatoes with jarred Sicilian sea salt and herbs from Sciacca. It's mild in the great Northeast so I fired up the grill. A short dip for the chops, since charcoal grilled lamb is full of flavor without much fuss. We started with a Sicilian Etna Rosso 2000 named Phiale that claimed it would pair well with grilled lamb. The wine is from Linguaglossa (tongue of lava) on the north slopes of the volcano Mongibello-Etna. It's a true Sicilian wine unlike some of the others on the island. Many Sicilian wines not only carry a hefty price tag, but are disappointing for their lack of terroirism. Do they evoke the land, the mysterious island's call? This one does in ways that I don't quite know enough about yet. I'll try to write about the second half of the bottle in the next post. I just can't spout adjectives about a wine grown on the slopes of an ancient volcano. A wine like this reveals itself slowly and subtly. I felt that the Quinta de Roriz Reserva 2003 was a better match for the grilled chops.
"Concentrated and intense. Shows plenty of French roast flavors, with dark cherry, flanked plum, mineral and smoke. Silky tannins fill the caressing finish. Touriga Nacional, Touriga Franca and Tinta Roriz"
Kim Marcus Wine Spectator
Maybe the Phiale would be better with caciocavallo, roasted peppers and grilled sausage.
My aunt Celena has passed. We gave tribute to her partyloving-soul by making pizza and drinking some good red wine. The weight has been somewhat lifted by a heartfelt apology from my cousin Anthony. I will try to write more tomorrow. Death of a loved one creates tremors in the psyche that arouse images covered with the dust of aeons.
Since we had a good variety of greens (kale, escarole, arugula et al) left in the garden, I tried my hand at making Caldo Verde, the national dish of Portugal. It has chorizo or linguica in it, rather than seafood as one might expect from an Atlantic seaboard country. To make the chorizo, I added garlic, paprika, cumin, more cayenne and sherry vinegar to our own sausage mixture (dry sherry, fennel seed, cayenne, salt). I grilled the chorizo outdoors which almost made me devour it right off the grill. Then I made a chicken stock. I don't think water cuts it here. Go for the stock, you won't regret it for the depth of flavor it adds. Joyce Goldstein's "The Mediterranean Kitchen" has a good version of this hearty dish and I more or less followed her take on it.
3/4 lb Chorizo or Linguisa
2 tbs olive oil
4 cups diced onion
2 cloves minced garlic
12 small red potatoes 1/2 inch dice
8 cups chicken ctock
6-8 cups chiffonade of greens
salt & pepper
Heat olive oil and saute onions until translucent about 10 minutes. Add garlic and cook another 2 minutes. Add potatoes and stock. Heat to boiling and simmer until potatoes are tender. Add greens and simmer 5 minutes. Add sausage and simmer 3 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Serve with toasted crusty garlic bread.
A bottle Dow 2004 Vale do Bomfim Douro Reserva complemented the dish very well. This wine is a very good buy at somewhere around $13. It is Dow's first red Douro with a lively plump nose, ample grip in the middle and a lasting silky finish. I wonder if Dow will ever include a small amount of Touriga Nacional in this blend?
Alright, but this blog mentions food and wine in its description, so... Lamb chops marinated in olive oil, garlic, cumin, hot paprika and 
grilled on charcoal. Maybe some greens and Adirondack red baby potatoes. (It was grill roasted brocliflower afterall.) For me, the ideal wine with lamb is an aged traditional Rioja or an aged Ribera del Duero. Eguren's Sierra Cantabria Riojas are traditional ones from a bodega with a venerable lineage. The 2001 Cuvee Especial is a favorite of mine from a good vintage. Spaniards don't get all hyperflexed about a purported vintage of the century. They quietly say that it was a good year. This wine has aged well and its generous fruit has integrated well with the oak. The middle has density to it and the transition to a lengthy smooth tannic finish is very fine. Slightly-smokey-coffee-red-black-currant-lushly acidic. Ah but, "Words can't touch the soul of a good wine."- R. Olney
P.S. I had better buy more wines like this pronto given
