Pannetone

Everywhere you look on Italy's streets, vias, alley and piazzas, you'll see panettone. No, not the delicious holiday bread/cake/pastry with candied fruits you see on sale everywhere around the Christmas season. What you see are concrete lumps at the corners of buildings that stop cars, motorcycles and bikes, not to mention pedestrians, from bumping into corners of buildings. You see, with ancient towns, there are few sidewalks or "shoulders"on many of the streets, so buildings butt-up right to said streets. Apparently, the locals think these traffic control devices remind them of the dessert. 

My great friend and genius Lisa Tucci (she really should have her own column/show/you name it) is a great observer and tour guide. Not only does she know an awful lot about the sites of Rome (and Italy in general), she's full of little tidbits they never mention in any visitors' literature. When she told me about street panettone, I was delighted.  

She also mentioned that Italy's many dogs use these as de facto fire hydrants, never failing to lift a leg when a panettone is handy. Lisa's dog, Trevor (Treverino in Italian), quickly demonstrated, unprovoked.  Now I can't look at a stone or concrete "blob" without remembering and smiling about panettone.   

Here's a recipe and link I found online with what appears to be a wonderful recipe. 

Jim Lahey’s, “Easy” Panettone

Ingredients:

1 cup raisins

2 Tbs light rum

2/3 cup tepid water plus 2 Tbs hot water, divided

3 ¾ cups all purpose flour

2/3 cup sugar

½ tsp salt

½ tsp instant dry yeast

¼ tsp grated lemon zest

½ vanilla bean, split lengthwise (I used 1 tsp vanilla extract)

3 large eggs, at room temperature

1 Tbs honey

12 ½ Tbs unsalted butter (10 ½ Tbs cut into Tbs size pieces and well softened; 1 Tbs melted; and 1 Tbs chilled)

2/3 cup candied fruits, chopped into small pieces if large.

Procedure:

• Soak raisins in rum and 2 Tbs hot water (8 hours or overnight)

• Mix flour, sugar, salt, yeast, lemon zest, and vanilla bean in stand mixer bowl with paddle until well mixed. In another bowl, whisk together the eggs, the honey, and the 2/3 cup of tepid water. With mixer at low speed, slowly pour the egg mixture into the flour mixture – up speed to medium low, and continue mixing until well combined. Add 10 ½ Tbs softened butter, 1 Tbs at a time, mixing until well incorporated between additions (Frozen/cold butter softens nicely in the microwave, but since each is sooo different, you’ll have to experiment to find the perfect time for yours – mine would be soft in about 15-25 seconds for this chunk.). Increase mixer speed to med high and mix until dough is smooth and elastic – about 8 minutes.

• Drain raisins and mix with chopped fruit and 1 Tbs melted butter – stir into the dough mixture with a wooden spoon.

• Put mixture into a large bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and put into a cold oven for 12-15 hours.

• Lightly flour a board, and put the dough on the board – remove the vanilla bean, and sprinkle a light dusting of flour over the dough – pull the edges of the dough up onto itself, and turn it over into a ball.

• Prepare your Panettone mold with either a paper liner or a piece of baker’s parchment held with a paper clip – move the dough into the mold, cover with a damp kitchen towel (not terry), and put in a warm spot where it can rise for 3-5 hours.

• With an hour left in the dough rising time, turn your oven on to 370 degrees, and heat.

• Cut an X in the top of the risen Panettone, and place the remaining Tbs of cold butter in the middle of the X – Put the Panettone mold/can on a baking sheet/pan and bake for an hour to an hour and a quarter – I needed 1 and ½ hours – test doneness with a skewer; it should be moist but clean – if you see dough, give it another 5-10 minutes.

• When done, remove from oven, and remove from mold/can – measure 1 inch from the bottom of the Panettone and slide 4 skewers through the bottom from one side to the other – now suspend the Panettone upside down into a large stock pot (or two chairs), and let it cool completely, about 1 hour.

Panettone – a worthy addition to the special treats of Butter Season – and a holiday tradition that deserves, at least, to be on every baker’s resume. Try it – it may become your tradition too.

Tartufo! (And in my cucina)

Each day I walked quickly through Piazza Navona on my way to Cantina del Vecchio.  From my building, I turned left from the door. Walked about 30 yards to the corner. Turned left. Crossed Corso dei Rinascimento and diagonally crossed Piazza Navona (from south to north) and turned left at the corner of the restuaruant Tre Scalini. 

Tre Scalini means "three steps" and that's exactly what greets  you at the door, three shallow steps into the eatery. Outside, even in inclement weather, is outdoor seating. Diners will always, when possible, dine facing the piazza (not the building). 

Waiters outdoors will invite folks walking by to eat at the restaurant (as they do at all tourist spots). I always just rushed by on my way to-and-from work -- 4 times a day. Never did the waiters begin to recognize me. I was just another American. 

I knew from Lisa that this was a famous spot -- especially for the Tartufo. What is tartufo? The word itself translates into "truffle." Here tartufo is a dessert, chocolate gelato that's molded into a rough sphere and dredged in cocoa powder (to resemble the gourmet funghi). Imbedded in tartufo is a surprise -- a maraschino cherry and bits of chocolate. It's served with whipped cream and a sweet crunchy pirouette cookie.

My last afternoon, before the evening shift, I met my new friend Wendy (an amazing and lovely singer from Indiana, now living in Rome) for coffee and tartufo at Tre Scalini. I ordered. It came. I studied it. I poked it. I used a knife to cut into it. I gingerly inserted my spoon and scooped up a morsel. I tasted. Rich. Chocolate. Cold. 

In short, Tartufo starts with deep chocolate gelato. Keep in mind that I had, for the last several weeks, eaten gelato daily -- often twice a day. I became an expert in gelato consumption and a whiz at flavor identification (much like I became a Jelly Belly pro during a certain jelly-bean phase).  The tartufo was delicious. And eating it there, at that restaurant in that piazza in that city in that country was a "bucket list" experience. But it was gelato. So, it was good, but it was gelato for 9-euro (about $13 or so).  Wendy graciously treated.

As with any great memory (especially of food), gestalt came into play in my enjoyment of tartufo. Here it wasn't just the tartufo -- it was Wendy, it was my last day in Rome, it was Piazza Navona, it was a changed and improved Annabel, wiser and more fulfilled in my new life. It was one small dessert for me, one giant leap for Annabelkind. 

Here is my version of Tartufo.

Tartufo

In a pinch, use very good quality dark chocolate ice cream as a stand-in for the gelato.

1 pint dark chocolate gelato

1/4 cup finely chopped good quality bittersweet chocolate

2-3 maraschino cherries

1 cup cocoa powder

Fresh lightly sweeteened whipped cream

Pirouette cookies (or sweet wafers)

Soften the gelato slightly and stir in the chopped chocolate. Form the gelato into spheres (2 to 3 spheres per pint). Use your fingers to insert one maraschino cherry per sphere. Transfer the spheres into a dish and freeze until hard. Remove from freezer and use your hands to form the tartufo into a slightly flattened sphere (see photo above). Just before serving, roll the tarfufo in cocoa powder and serve with whipped cream and wafer. Makes 2-3 servings.

In the Cucina #9

I have a passion for fiore di zucca or zucchini flowers. At Cantina, every few days we would receive a fresh delivery of these golden blossoms, wrapped as delicately as eggs and handled just as gingerly. Whenever i saw them at Campo di Fiore, I wanted to buy them. But for what? I wasn't cooking in my penthouse and if I bought them, it would be only to ogle their loveliness. I wanted them any way -- stuffed with cheese, or meat or potatoes or simply dredged in flour or cornstarch and quickly fried and used as a garnish for Cacio e Pepe or rissoto. I've only ever experienced fiore di zucca fried, which is just fine with me. 

Zucca means squash (they call pumpkins zucca in Italy), so zucchini is the diminutive of zucca. Zucchini, botanically, are a fruit (like tomatoes and cucumbers -- it has to do with ovaries and flowers and seeds and stuff), but are always referred to as vegetables. Sometimes you'll find small zucchini still attached to the flowers or the bigger blossoms on stalks from male plants). Any variety squash blossoms are perfect for all recipes. 

Here are two recipes -- one stuffed, as when I ate them in a restaurant in the Jewish quarter and fried simply, as a necessary garnish, at Cantina del Vecchio.

Fiore di Zucca (Fried) 
Zucchini flowers

Cornstarch

Vegetable oil for frying
Place a grate or many layers of paper towel over a baking sheet. Set aside.

Heat about 1/2-inch of oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. The oil must be quite hot (rippling) or the flowers will be soggy.

Pinch-out the pistils or stamens (the things sticking up, if any, in the centers of the flowers). Dredge the flowers in cornstarch.  Drop the flowers in the oil and and fry, quickly, until golden. Carefully remove the flowers with a slotted spoon or tongs and transfer to the prepared baking sheet. Drain well. Use at room temperature as a garnish (topped our caccio e pepe with the flowers) on just about anything from salad to pasta. 

Ricotta Stuffed Zucchini Flowers

12 large (male) or smaller (female) zucchini blossoms
1 cup of ricotta cheese
1 large egg
1/2 cup of freshly grated Parmesan cheese
3 Tbsp. chopped fresh basil
1 Tbsp. fresh chopped parsley

1/2 tsp. saltVegetable oil for frying

Batter:

3/4 cup flour

1 cup sparkling water or club soda

Place a grate or many layers of paper towel over a baking sheet. Set aside.

Pinch-out the pistils or stamens (the things sticking up, if any, in the centers of the flowers). 

Combine the filling ingredients in a small bowl and mix well. Add additional salt to taste. 

Combine the batter ingredients in another bowl and whisk well.  Set aside.

Using a teaspoon or a pastry bag, fill or pipe the filling into the zucchini flowers. Pinch and twist the flower tops lightly to enclose the filling. 

Heat at least one-inch of oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. The oil must be quite hot (rippling) or the flowers will be soggy.

Dip the filled flowers upside down (holding the stem ends) into the batter and fry them until golden. When cooked, place on the prepared baking sheet. Serve immediately, or rewarm before serving. Makes 4 appetizer portions. 

I'm Lovin' it.

Lisa T. says her late father said the best bathrooms in Italy (indeed the world) are in McDonald's restaurants. So whenever I spotted a McDonald's, I went (if you know what I mean). I went at the Mcdonald's near the Pantheon. I went in the McDonald's at Piazza di Spagna.

Fact is, I love McDonald's and I'm not too snotty to admit it. And I make a point of going in every country I visit. Why, you may be thinking, with all the amazing food in Italy, would I want to go to Mickey-D's? Because in every country the food is different.  In India there was no beef served (see my blog whossarinow.com). My New Delhi experience included a Maharaja Burger, for example. So, I've chowed in Rio De Janeiro, Bangkok, Moscow, Paris, Marakesh, Tokyo, Beijing and Rome.  

I must confess, I didn't actually feel like eating at McDonald's in Rome. In Thailand I craved American fast-food after two weeks of the local grub. Same thing in Tokyo. But in Rome, my diet was so exquisite, I had to force myself to order a Big Mac meal. 

McDonald's restaurants in Rome are really quite chic -- they have that contemporary, designer look that's tasteful and somewhat luxurious with granite-topped tables, plenty of wood accents and nary a golden arch. And the menu's include simplistic images so that ordering can be accomplished via a point and order method for all the turistas. The Italian menu includes items you'll never find in American. There's the special  Sfiziosita, triangular spinach croquettes with real Parmigiano Reggiano. And there's crunchy fried shrimp, among other things. And beer. 

I walked into the McDonalds near Largo Argentina one Thursday after shopping at Campo de Fiore. I ordered from the McMenu and asked for a Diet Coke -- a big one finally.  I wanted some ketchup for my fries, but for about 30-cents for each packet (on top of the nearly $9 you pay for a meal), I decided to eat my fries neat. My entire meal, packaged in universal wrapping. It looked and tasted exactly like I was eating it in Bloomfield Hills. Exactly. 

And, afterwards, I peed in the lovely, clean bathroom. 

Here's what Romebuddy.com wrote about McDonalds in Rome. 

McDonalds have about twenty joints all around town now. They first opened here about fifteen years ago with a place in Piazza Di Spagna. At that time Rome city council was very suspicious of the whole idea, so they specified to MacDonalds that they had to build a restaurant which was in character with the historical architecture and culture of the area, both inside and out.

McDonalds responded by building the most bizarre McD's restaurant you'll ever see - The facade is very low key, not the familiar red and yellow corporate colors, but gold lettering on dark grey marble, so it's difficult to spot at first. Inside, you'll find mock-marble replica fountains, real terra-cotta brickwork, fresco murals, salad bars and displays of fresh fruit in wooden barrows similar to those in Campo dei Fiori.

Other branches added later around other districts of Rome are more conventional in appearance. Although there's now a McDonalds in every far-flung suburb of Rome, the main locations you'll need as a tourist in the central Rome area are at:

Piazza Di Spagna
Via del Corso
Piazza Barberini
Via Nazionale
Piazza della Repubblica
Piazza della Rotonda (opposite the Pantheon)
Piazza Sidney Sonnino (in Trastevere)

Dancing Queen

If there is a theme song to my experience in Rome, it's Abba's "Dancing Queen." In fact Abba's greatest hits was always playing in the background somewhere in the restaurant.  Chef Paolo would connect his cell-phone to small speakers in the kitchen and kick on the tunes. Everyone in the kitchen would sing along. 

Chef Paolo, a musician as well as a chef, would begin to cook and dance at the same time. I called him the dancing chef. At times he would get wild, tossing pasta, creating sauces, grilling and sauteeing, with feet and head moving in rhythm to the beat. 

I tried to videotape Paolo (I wanted to secretly post it on YouTube), but each time I whipped out my Flip camcorder, he suddenly became shy. 

Occasionally when it became too loud in the kitchen, what with all the singing and dancing, someone would peek into the kitchen and tell us "basso" -- quiet! 

Allan and Vittorio

Cantina del Vecchio



VittorioCantina del Vecchio has two main partners -- Allan and Vittorio -- and one of them is in the "front of the house," in the restaurant dining room, at all times.  That's seven days a week, from early morning until late -- really late. 

Allan is British born, but has lived in Italy for 35 years. Despite his many years in Rome, he still exudes a British "air" about him -- at first a bit aloof -- with a quiet manner. He's never loud (ever).

He's an observer and expert on social nuance. He's the one I would ask for translations (I could get along mostly with my broken Italian, copious gesticulation and charades). I counted on his perfect Italian and he never failed to explain to me not just pronunciation, but the musicality of the language. Words in Italian (more so than in English), depend so much on delivery. 

Allan is a true foodie. He loves cuisine and as a trained professional sommelier (from Rome's Hilton school) will always a recommend the perfect wine pairing for every dish.  He's the one I searched for approbation in everything. A compliment from Allan means something. 

Vittorio is so warm, he is (as Raquel would say) practically in flames. He speaks passionately and always with his hands. He is what I think of when I think of the Roman "manner." Of course, he IS Italian. He is quick with a smile and downright affectionate -- appropriately of course.

Vitorrio, too, knows and loves food. He has an Italian chic sense of style and seems to always be concerned about eating too many carbs. It's hard to be strict with Cantina's perfect pastas and intoxicating desserts. For him, the kitchen prepares meats and fish seared and never includes potatoes or other any other starchy foods. But you could tell he really missed them and would occasionally indulge (passionately), as I saw him a few times, eating even a bit of the kitchen's luxurious rosemary roasted potatoes (see recipe below) or a molten chocolate tortino or layered "mille foglia" -- a Napolean by any other name. Each time I would comment, "no carbiodrato!"   

Roasted Rosemary Potatoes

2 pounds peeled new or gold potatoes

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Finely ground sea salt to taste

2 Tbsp. rosemary leaves

Preheat oven to 450-degrees F. Line a baking sheet with sides with parchment or spray with nonstick cooking spray. 

Peel and cut the potatoes into 1/2-inch cubes and transfer to the prepared baking sheet. Drizzle the oil over and toss well. Sprinkle with salt and rosemary and toss well with your hands. Spread the potatoes over the baking sheet in a single layer. Roast, uncovered, for 30-minutes, or until the potatoes are tender and lightly golden. Makes 6 servings. 

Earthquake Near Rome

ROME, Italy (CNN) -- A 6.3-magnitude earthquake struck central Italy early Monday, less than six hours after another quake hit the northern part of the country, the U.S. Geological Survey said.

A spokesman with the Italian civil protection agency said had received reports of collapsed buildings, and officials believe there were possible casualties.

The quake struck at 3:32 a.m. (9:32 p.m. ET Sunday) about 95 kilometers (60 miles) northeast of Rome and about 10 kilometers (6.2 miles) deep.

Rescuers were called out to the city of L'Aquila, at the quake's epicenter.

At about 10:20 p.m. (4:20 p.m. ET) Sunday, a 4.6-magnitude earthquake hit northern Italy, about 55 km (35 miles) southeast of Bologna at a depth was 6.4 kilometers (4 miles), the agency said. 

In the Cucina #8: Knuckles

Not all Italian pasta is made the same. Gnocchi literally means knuckles, in Italian. Indeed these little dumplings do remind you of a hand's knuckles when you make a fist. At Cantina del Vecchio, one of their most delicious dishes is gnocchi, made fresh as needed. You won't find it on the menu, though. Instead there are notes at the bottom of the lunch and dinner menu, "I primi classici della tradizione romana sono sempre disponibile," -- The traditional Roman pasta dishes are always available." To Romans and those in the know, it's assumed you know what these dishes are (if you're Roman, you know what these are -- just ask). 

Anyway, gnocchi are at their most basic, made with potato, egg and flour. What can be added to the recipe -- pumpkin, spinach, herbs, cheese -- is completely up the gnocchi-maker. The dough should be pretty soft or, when cooked, the dumplings turn into heavy gut bombs. If you've ever had weighty gnocchi, you know what I mean. You feel it all day. Not good. 

The dough is then rolled into long ropes and cut into pieces. It's boiled for just a couple of minutes until they rise to the surface. Cook them too long and they turn into a glue. 

Here is my version Gnocchi.  

Gnocchi

There are countless recipes for gnocchi (pronounced nyow-kee)– which means “knuckles” in Italian. Some call for nutmeg or added cheese, many are flavored with herbs or vegetables like spinach or pumpkin. This is a basic gnocchi. These aren’t shaped and don’t include the “thumbprint” indentation you often see in these little potato dumplings.

4 Russet or Idaho potatoes (about 2 pounds)

1 large egg

1 teaspoon salt

2 cups flour, or more as needed

Peal the potatoes and cut into 2-inch chunks. Place in a pot filled with cold water and 1 tsp. salt. Bring the water to a boil over high heat and cook until tender, about 30 minutes. Drain very well and allow to cool for about 5 minutes. 

Use a potato ricer to mash the potatoes (or beat them in a mixer) into a large bowl. Form a well in the center of the potatoes and add the egg and salt. Add about 1 cup of flour the potatoes and, using a rubber spatula, stir in the flour until incorporated.

Flour a clean surface and turn the potato mixture on the surface. Using both hands, begin to stir and knead the dough, adding the flour and working it in until the mixture forms a soft, sort of sticky dough (you’ll know the dough is ready when you can pinch off a piece, roll it into a small ball and it holds it’s shape – it should still be quite soft).

Dust the surface again with flour. Cut the dough into six pieces. Roll the dough (like Play-Dough into a 1/2-inch diameter (thick) rope 1/2 inch thick, flouring the dough if necessary as you roll to keep it from sticking. Cut the dough into 1/2-inch pieces. Place the dough on a floured or cornmeal sprinkled baking sheet. Repeat with remaining dough. Chill if you’re using within the next day or freeze (freeze on the baking sheet – when frozen solid, transfer to a zipper bag), until ready to cook.

To cook gnocchi:

Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat. Drop half the gnocchi (or all of it if your pot is really big) into the boiling water a few at a time. Stir the water to make sure the gnocchi don’t stick together. Cook until the dumplings rise to the surface. Cook the gnocchi, stirring gently, until tender, about 1 minute after they rise to the surface.

Remove the gnocchi with a slotted spoon or skimmer, draining in the spoon and keep warm in a warm oven (on an olive oil coated dish or baking sheet). When all is cooked, add sauce and grated cheese as desired. Makes 8 servings.

The 8th Hill of Rome

The third night in Rome Lisa took me to an amazing party. The guest of honor was CSI New York's Hill Harper (click on the title above this post and you'll get more info about Hill Harper). Harper plays Dr. Sheldon Hawkes, the coroner on the show and was in Rome to speak to kids about ... oh I don't know. But the Embassy was throwing a bash for him and my well-connected friend Lisa was invited.

The party was teeming with celebs -- Italian actors, TV personalities, movie directors, singers, big time judges, US Embassy folk, Hill Harper and me. 

Long story short, I found Hill and we talked and talked. I whipped out my new FLIP video camera, handed it to who knows who and told them to start recording. I told Hill that my daughter Raquel's favorite show is CSI (it's absolutely true) and that's she's studying theatre at Columbia in Chicago. He said he was just at Columbia a few months ago talking at the college. 

Raquel later told me that Hill is pals with Barack Obama (she thinks they went to Harvard together -- Hill is a Harvard Law School grad). He sent a shout out to Raquel telling her to stick with acting! 

Well, in 2004, Hill was named one of People Magazine's sexiest men alive. And, honey, he is! Check him out here with yours truly. 

In the Cucina #7

The code phrase for a romantic encounter in Roma is "Allora ... andiamo a prendere un caffe," or let's get coffee. If someone asks you for coffee or a drink or conversation, it's because they are interested in some sort of nookie -- they are "flirtare," flirting with you. 

I have decided that every man in Italy flirts. 

Since it was decided in Cantina's kitchen that, "in the kitchen, we are all men," it wasn't long before I was part of the gang, so, no more holding back anything -- including, swearing, burping and flirting (not with me!) with every "bella regazza," pretty girl. One afternoon, a young cook practically begged the sweet cuban waitress, Dana "ti va un caffe." She said no. She always said no. 

And these guys all have real girlfriends. 

When a "bella regazza" entered the restaurant there was a flurry of excitement in the kitchen. I was constantly rolling my eyes when talk about these regazzas started. If she was, say, amply endowed in some way, hands gesticulated to show just how big. Or when a table of women entered, the questions were always, "are they pretty?" Special service with an extra big smile for these women. 

Later NOTE: On the way back to the Rome airport at the end of my trip, the gruff looking. 50-something taxi driver, Paolo, began playing a Brazilian music CD in his standard-issue white cab. As the Carnaval sounds of "Partido da Vida" played in the background, Paolo became increasingly happy during the 40-minute ride. With my positive reaction to the Brazilian music, he turned the volume way up. 

A few minutes before reaching the airport, he asked me to stop with him for coffee! Sorry, I can't -- I have a plane to catch. Only in Italy! 

Non Si Butta Niente.

One of the first phrases Allan, owner of Cantina del Vecchio, translated into Italian for me was "non si butta niente," don't throw anything away. 

I'm frugal. I'm resourceful, I'm an environmentalist of sorts. I must have a depression mentality because it's hard for me to throw anything remotely useful away. Which is why every year when I purge my house of superfluosity, I call the Salvation Army or Purple Heart rather than bag it and trash it. 

So, when I saw the perfectly good ends of red bell peppers find their way to the special compost rubbish tin, I nearly burst an artery. I fished them out, washed them and asked, "can I have these." Of course. I carefully wrapped the pepper ends in pellicola (plastic wrap) to take home to chop and add to fritatta (bell pepper in fritatta -- they thought I was crazy). From then on, "non si butta niente" became my mantra. On a day when fresh orange juice was being squeezed, I snatched up the peels and made candied orange peel, which Guiseppe, from Palermo, said was absolutely Sicilian (see my recipe below).

You might be wondering, how can they be so wasteful! Here's the answer. In a commercial kitchen, there is a lot of rushing around. Here, time IS money. To spend an extra 30 minutes cutting citrus peel into thin strips and boiling it three-times before rolling it in sugar costs more in time money than the finished product is financially worth. Sometimes it's simply not economical to use everything. 

I would say to the kitchen staff, "See these peppers? They cost $3 a pound in the U.S. This is about 1 Euro worth -- if you found a Euro on the ground, would you pick it up?"

For the rest of my time in the kitchen, the staff jokingly taunted me when the dish-washing person threw away any food (usually it was from diners' plates who didn't finish their meals). And I always answered "che peccato" -- what a shame. 

Candied Orange Peel

You can use any citrus peel for this. Mine is a simplified recipe in that I don't cook the peel in sugar syrup. But everyone agreed it was delicious. 

6 large oranges (with thicker skin)

Water

Granulated sugar for dredging the cooked orange peel

Cut the peel fro to remove most of the white part, the pith. Cut the peel into thin strips and place in a medium saucepan. Cover the peels with water and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce heat slightly and cook the peel for about 5 minutes. Drain and repeat the process two more times. Drain the peel for the last time and place the peels in a dish or on a baking sheet with sides. Add sugar (about 1 cup is more than enough) and toss the peels so that they're well coated.  Spread the candied peels on the baking sheet and leave out overnight to dry. 

When no longer wet or very sticky, the peels are ready to eat. Makes about 2 cups of candied peel.   

In Lisa I Trust

Lisa Tucci, my friend and guardian angel in Rome, is amazing. If you simply suggest an idea, she will take said idea and make it happen. A rain-maker if you will. And I trust her (oh, yes, I do) when she tells me to do something. She says "salta" and I say, "how high?" That's why when she had me on my first day in Rome take a bus to the suburbs late at night with nary an Italian word in my vocabulary, I did it without question (it turned out okay, despite the wrong bus debacle). 

After all, she did find me my job at Cantina del Vecchio and my penthouse digs in the heart of the most desirable neighborhood in ancient Rome. And she did take me to the quite intimate party where Hill Harper (star of CSI: New York) was the guest of honor. 

So, when on one of our few visits together she took me to Rome's Gianicolo one sunset eve and said trust me, it's worth it, I trusted. 

Gianicolo, or Janiculum Hill, is across the river. A winding drive up the hill and the vista is spectacular -- Rome is literally at your feet, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. You can see the hills of Rome (not all seveb, I believe, but certainly some of them). No wonder this romantic place is also known as a, if not the, Lover's Lane of bella Roma. 

Even as we were ascending the hill in Lisa's red Honda Civic, the beauty inspired an actual gasp -- and I'm no gasper (I've seen the Taj Mahal, I've walked the Great Wall, I've seen Jesus -- that is in Rio de Janeiro). Yeah, it was that stunning.

There are, course, other sights at Gianiculo. What's any Roman clearing without a fountain -- the Fontana dell'Acqua is a popular spot for wedding portraits to be taken. Then there's the Garibaldi monument. Apparently, according to Lisa (who I trust), Guiseppe Garibaldi helped unite Italy and fought against French attacks on Rome. Apparently, his the pregnant wife accompanied him into battle, so there is a monument in her honor nearby as well. 

At the top of the hill, as in any touristic spot in Rome, you can buy snacks at vending truck. It was here that I spotted him -- the cotton candy vendor. Since cotton-candy is one of my favorite foods (I can hear my mother saying in her Brazilian accent, "you have verrrrry infantile tastes"), I had to pay the 2 Euro (around $3) for the penny's worth of spun sugar on a stick. Zucchero filato and the best view of Rome. Does it get better than this?

For some wonderful musings on all things Italy -- check out Lisa's blog at www.burntbythetuscansun.blogspot.com

A O!

Hey! That's what "a o" means in Rome. Pronounced "ah ohhhhh," it's used to get someone's attention, whether it's vendors trying to sell you their stuff or that the cooks need something in the kitchen.

Rome, like every big city, has its own form of gab. "Beh" -- so what?

In the kitchen, they call me " a signora," (ah see-nyo-rah). 

In fact, as in the movie "Logan's Run" where a lighted signal in the palms of  a fictional, future-city's dwellers.  When the city folk turn 30, they must die to keep the population numbers under control. In Italy every woman over 30 goes from signorina (miss) to signora (ma'am) at mach speed (men aren't "mister" until 50, or so the kitchen folk tell me). 

But, instead of "signora," Romans shorten the term or respect to "a signo'," (ah-see-nyo), dropping the "ra" at the end of the word. I only found out recently what these guys were actually saying and for whom it was intended. I didn't realize that every time they yelled out "a signo" they were talking to me -- getting my attention, asking me to move to reach into the fridge and pull out some proscuitto. 

Now we all say "a signo'" every few minutes -- yelling it out really. It's our own private joke.

As Plain as the Nose on Your ... You Know the Rest

Throughout Roma, there are delightful continuously running, stone water fountains on every street. I thought they were for washing hands, watering pets, or whatever required quick moistening. That is until Lisa put her finger at the end of the spout and water came up from a hole in the middle of the tube -- voila! A drinking fountain. 

These fountains are called  "nasoni," or big noses and when you see them, it's actually pretty clever.

Apparently, these "runny noses" have been around since ancient times and are not only considered safe drinking water, but have actually been tested (if you can believe the Italian government) to "prove" that the water is better than bottled -- some of the best drinking water in all of Italy.

Yesterday I saw a man drinking water from a regular fountain fountain outside of Cantina del Vecchio's doors. I pointed and said to Allan, "look!" He said that people drink from Rome's fountains all the time and the the water is safe. Imagine form and function -- what a concept.

In the Cucina #6

Every day just before the lunch service, we, in the restaurant, eat. Today Chef Paolo made the tradtional Rome dish Penne Arrabiata (Angry pasta with penne).  He says it's easy, fast and cheap. As a rule, Arrabiata is served with penne (quills) pasta, diagonally cut thin tubes.  I ask, why penne? Paolo says because it's traditional. Carbonara and Cacio e Pepe goes with spaghetti, Amatriciana goes with bucatini, etc. It's kind of like peanut butter going with jelly. Although, really, he says, you can do whatever (kind of pasta) you want. 

Chef Paolo starts with oil -- lots of oil -- about 3/4 of a cup (maybe more).  Hey explains, "you must have a lot oil." I don't ask him why. 

He adds two whole cloves of garlic, fries them brown and removes them from the oil and throws them away. Then he grabs a fistful, literally, of red pepper flakes, and throws them in the oil and cooks them for a few minutes. I'm already thinking there is no way I can eat this -- it's going to be WAY too spicy. Then he ladles in 3 cups of tomato sauce, chopped parsley and salt. He tosses in 600 grams (about 1 1/3 pounds) of penne pasta that's been cooked to al dente (not a moment more). He starts tossing the pasta (with one hand, moving the large skillet up and down, backward and forward), and adds -- MORE OIL!

He divided this into six pasta bowls. I timidly tried a few penne, prepared to say "basta!" (enough!). To my delight, the pasta was absolutely delicious; the sauce fiery but absolutely tolerable.  I explained my apprehension and he replied offhandedly, "Why? You have pasta."

The lesson? The pasta neutralizes the heat of the pepper flakes. 

As with the risotto, Chef Paolo explained, "You have to learn the proper way to cook the pasta. It's not just for consistency, but for taste," he said. "Over cooking pasta changes the taste of the pasta too much. It becomes plain, 'senza gusto' (tasteless). When you cook it too much, you can't taste the flavor of the pasta." I can't argue. 

NOTE: Like all good chefs, Paolo removes the green center of the garlic before using it. In Italian it's called the "anima" or soul of the garlic. Love it!

Here is Chef Paolo's Penne all' Arrabiata:

Penne all' Arrabiata

3/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil

2 cloves of garlic, cut in half lengthwise

1/3 cup hot red pepper flakes (or more)

3 cups prepared tomato sauce (see earlier recipe)

1 cup chopped parsley

Salt to taste

1 1/3 pound penne pasta, cooked al dente in salted boiling water. Drain but do not rinse. 

Heat oil in a large skillet over high heat. Add the garlic and cook until well browned. Remove garlic and discard. Add the pepper flakes and cook for 2 minutes. Add the tomato sauce and bring to a boil, stirring frequently, reduce heat to medium-high and add parsley. Cook for one minute more, adding about a tablespoon of extra-virgin olive oil. Add the pasta and toss well, adding salt to taste. Makes 6 servings. 

Navona!

This is my path home every night. I turn right out of Cantina del Vecchio's kitchen doors. I walk the curved via and turn left toward Piazza Navona. I cross Piazza Navona diagonally and turn left at the toy Store (Berte -- with it's spooky looking lifelike baby dolls in the window).  Two minutes later, I'm home.

My daughter Raquel used to say, "I'm unique ... just like everyone else." Every night the crowd at piazza changes. Teenage and twenty-something girls in tight jeans and boots. Family's on vacation, with maps open figuring it all out. Every language spoken as friends pose in front of any of the three famous fountains. Diners, well, dining at the various restaurants, the Brazilian Embassy, a toy store and other businesses line the piazza. And everywhere there is gelati, eaten from crispy cones or paper cups with tiny colored plastic spoons. 

Yet the people are all the same, on their own uniques trips, with their unique experiences. These will be their fond memories. I always wonder how many photos include me in the background. 

I also wonder, if I think they all look the same, what do the locals and money-making folk think -- charicaturists, painters, photographers, entertainers (there's the gyspy band playing the entire Sinatra songbook, the Statue of Liberty impersonator I almost bowled over while watching my step, the occasional King Tut, the guy who blares CDs and performs with little puppets that dance to the music), and those guys that sell light-up plastic thingamajigs that are probably made in China.

NOTE: More than once, I saw brides and grooms at the famous piazza taking their wedding photos (CD guy played Mendelsohnn's wedding march during the portrait-taking). 

In the Cucina #5

At Cantina del Vecchio, food is prepared at the moment. There are not vats of cooked pastas waiting to be heated. Other than long-cooking sauces and some entrees, risotto, pasta for instance is made to order. 

Risotto, which most magazine and cookbook recipes specify takes at least 30 minutes to cook, is made in about 20 at Cantina. They make it in a skillet and, as when they prepare pastas, use a tossing motion to incorporate sauces. I call this motion tossing, because the skillet is taken off the heat in one hand, and  its contents tossed up and out of the pan and back and forth at the same time. This gives the pasta and risotto a creamy texture as liquids and cheese are incorporated. Risotto and pasta are served very al dente -- more so that what most American's think of as dente. 

It takes practice to get this motion right, as American pancake flippers will tell you. But once you do, you'll use the motion for everything from turning eggs to tossing your own pasta. Your first attempts may find some of the food on the floor or in your face or on your clothes (so I hear), but practice does make perfect.  

The following  recipe doesn't call for tossing, but stirring in a pot. This is an easier way to make it, especially if you're making more than two servings. It's not the Cantina version, but it produces a creamy, delicious meal. Don't overcook risotto or it'll turn into a soggy mush. 

If you feel like using the toss and turn method, have at it. 

Basic Risotto

This is a basic recipe for risotto -- add other ingredients like saffron (with the broth), or sauteed mushrooms or fresh vegetables (at the end) as you like. 

 

2 Tbsp. olive oil

1 1/2 cups chopped onion

1 1/2 cups arborio rice (not regular long grain rice)

1/2 cup white wine

4-5 cups chicken or vegetable broth

1 cup fresh finely grated Parmesan cheese

Salt and pepper to taste

Olive oil to drizzle over risotto

Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the onion and saute until the until softened. Add the arborio and cook, stirring for about a minute. Add the wine and cook, stirring, until the wine is absorbed. Add the broth, one cup at a time, stirring constantly, until the broth is absorbed after each addition. Cook until the risotto is creamy, but still al dente. Add salt and pepper to taste. Stir in the cheese and serve immediately, drizzled with olive oil and addtional cheese. Makes 4 servings.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.

My McDonald's tray liner was wealth of information. (More about Micky D's later). Besides the calorie content of my Big Mac meal (fries 470 calories, Mac 490 calories -- you do the math). 

Anyway, the up-facing liner told me about the Rome Marathon on March 22, beginning at the Roman Colosseum. I'm there, sorta. I took the day off, and just knew I wanted to end up at the Colosseum and its neighbor, the Forum.  The race began at 9:00 a.m. and snaked around the city, including my neighborhood. Barricades were set up throughout the area marking the route. I had to negotiate around and through the barriers. A little after 11:00 a.m., I made my way to my usual stomping ground, Piazza Navona, just a a couple of minutes walk away. The piazza was quiet -- a rock band played and people were milling as usual. I bought my daily gelato (strawberry and almond) sat down for a few minutes, waited and watched.

A short while later the first indication of the race was visible. Hand cyclists for those who couldn't run (with handlebar "pedals" that propel), began to ride by to the crowd's applause. It was then that I -- and so many around me -- started snapping pictures. 

The first runners were preceded by sirened cars and motorcycles with spinning blue roof-lights. Among the runners was the eventual winner -- #36, Kenya's Benjamin Kiptoo. 

By then, the crowd at Navona was thick and energetic. 

The runners kept coming, first a few at a time and then came the first woman, marathon winner, #12, Ethiopian, Dado Firehiwot. 

I stayed and shot pics for another 20 minutes before going back to the apartment. From the terrace (remember, I'm in the penthouse), I looked down at piazza San Andrea de la Valle and watched runners trickle by (I was near the 35th Kilometer -- almost 22 miles into the race, so the crowd had thinned at at that point). 

At 12:30 I began my trek to the Colosseum. I followed the same path, on sidewalks, as the marathoners. Traffic was re-routed and pedestrians had to wait before crossing streets at designated stops.  At bigger piazzas along the way, the was live entertainment from around the globe. 

The city was jam-packed. If there are 3.5 million people living in Rome, 3.475 million of them were out in the sunshine today. Add the tourists and you get the picture -- the crowd was thick. It was hard to get around. 

A a refreshment area, plastic cups, water bottles, apple and orange wedges littered the street, the pavement drenched from the gatorade and water. Passing  the Imperial forum and finally ending up at the "Colosseo" -- the colosseum.

I found a shiny mylar blanket given to runners and I snatched it up as a souvenir. 

Frustrated at the pace and with map in hand, I decided on side streets as the route for my quarter-mile stretch to the forum.