Tag Archives: italian food

Food Notes for My October 2020 Excursion, Romagna, Part I.

Last night we went to Ro e Buni, in Villa Verucchio. (That’s Boo-NEE.) It’s a pasta-meat place. I had cappelletti al ragu. Sort of like tortellini, a folded pasta with a filling, cappelletti are usually served in broth. It’s a delicious soup when there’s a chill in the air. I like cappelletti with ragu at Ro e Buni.  Here they are:

cappelletti in ragu

In addition, we had passatelli in broth (another fantastic soup), swisschard, squaquerone (a soft spreadable cheese), grilled sausage, and piada. And a half liter of red wine. 

For dessert, because we’re taking it easy, we had just a tiny bit of crostata with nutella.

nutella crostata   

Today for lunch we went to Nud e Crud, in Rimini. This place gets it done. It will definitely be on our itinerary. In the interest of sampling as many different kinds of pasta as I can (and I’m doing this for you) I had strozzopreti with salsiccia, pendolini, stridoli, e fossa.  Strozzopreti is the pasta, meaning “choke the priest,” with sausage, pear tomatos, a wild herb I don’t have a name for in English, and a local cheese that matures in a cave. This dish was mind-blowing:

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In addition, we had piada, swisschard, baby artichokes, and a half a liter of red wine. For dessert: Zuppa Inglese and Crema della Nonna. (Idiot! I didn’t take their picture).

carciofi saltati

 Note: there will be recurring menu items in these reviews–swisschard and piada, especially.  And red wine. I’m eager for you to try to local Sangiovese.  

I’m thinking about how to organize this food adventure so you can try as many things as possible. Eat widely (without becoming wide). With your permission, I will order for the table, indicating in advance: Tonight is a great pasta place. Or today we’ll have three soups for lunch. Or next up: a seafood meal. Or at this place we’ll concentrate on meats. Always, of course, with an assortment of sides.

My preference is to order for the table–because it saves time and because I can direct you to local specialties. Often servers will have recommendations. Today’s special at Nud e Crud, for example, was the strozzopreti. I would have been a fool to miss it. 

That’s yesterday and today. We’re taking the night off.  It was a heavy lunch. Which raises an important issue.  Is he nuts? How much does he expect us to eat? Only as much as you want.  I’ll be thinking light vs heavy, when we need to take our feet off the accelerator and coast. When we need to coast and take a breather, we will.  

Tomorrow for lunch I expect to have rabbit–at another great place in the area. Also, they usually have ravioli (probably with a stridoli sauce) that are delicate and, well, exquisite.   

 

Yes, Rabbit

rabbit done

In the kitchen I originate very little. I’m an homage cook.  I replicate and modify. One dish I’m proud of is a modified arrabiata pasta. Very modified.  Extremely modified. Actually, it has little to do with arrabiata. The story:

One year my wife and I had a long lunch in Montepulciano, the one in Tuscany known for noble wine–literally Il Vino Nobile di Montepulciano. After touring the wine caves we asked 3-4 people where we could get a good lunch and found ourselves served a “bis”–two orders of pasta divided between two people. (You can also do a “tris,” a tris for two, a tris for three or four.) One pasta was light, satisfactory, and forgettable; the other was penne with sausage, tomato, and red pepper.  A bomb. And I mean a bomb in the best possible way. Continue reading

Polenta, I’m Coming

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Twice now I’ve chosen not to eat polenta. My wife and I are in restaurants. It’s a choice between tagliatelle and beans or passatelli in a vegetable sauce, or polenta, I reluctantly say no to the polenta.

Last night it happened again. This just has to stop.

Oh, polenta. It comes to the table vivid yellow, this cooked corn flour mush with a sauce ladled over the top of it. Last Sunday, at Osteria del Pisello, their polenta with pea sauce.

You eat it with a spoon. It’s still hot. The red sauce, peas or beans or ragu or whatever, is likely to leave an reddish-orange olive oil sheen, as you stir, mix, spoon, and lift this wonderful food your mouth. To borrow a phrase from Raymond Carver, it’s a simple, good thing. That’s the dominant culinary principle in this region. Simple is good. More likely, simple is perfection.

When she was a kid, my wife says the practice was to pour out the polenta on a large cutting board and put it in the middle of the table, cover it with ragu. No plates. No servings portioned out. Each individual, spoon in hand, having at it.

In one of my undergraduate psychology classes I learned about what researchers call “the just noticeable difference.” We’re talking levels of perception. At what point does one lose the ability to distinguish one sensory input from another that is a measurable gradation less or more in strength. What is the just noticeable difference between the pleasure you take in one dish you love over another you love? That’s the fix we are in when we eat over here.

As we say these days, indulging in cliche, It’s all good. (This is cliche I can live with.) Seen below, last night’s polenta from Trattoria Rinaldi.

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Polenta, I’m coming.

A Reading at Hannan House

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Happy to be reading at Hannan House, 4750 Woodward Avenue, Detroit, Michigan on September 16, 2018, 2-4 p.m.  Music, open mic first. Then the reading.

They say, “He’s funny, warm, and peevish.” Yup, that’s me.

 

Brown Rice, Chopped Tomato, Arugula

mich toms

When gluttony meets restraint…

There’s always brown rice.

We are on the threshold of tomato time in Michigan. It’s hard to be patient. At the local farmers market they will have both red and gold cherry tomatoes (what the Italians call pendolini) and Early Girls and Big Boys bursting with flavor. You take the Girls and Boys, slice and anoint them with olive oil. Continue reading

A Sweet and Tangy Spaghetti Dish

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How to make a fast sauce that’s always great

A number of years ago I taught a cooking class I called “ten sauces, ten pastas, ten wines.” The animating idea was to become a good match-maker. Some sauces need a particular form of pasta. Meat sauces, for example, instead of spaghetti or linguini or tagliolini, are best paired with wheels or fusilli or a wide noodle like fettuccine or tagliatelle. Tengono il sugo, they say in Italian. The pasta holds the sauce. And wine? I didn’t know much about wine then, and still don’t. The class was an excuse to try ten different wines from all over Italy. Continue reading