The fourth week of cooking was all about Tuscany in the fall with hearty soups and pastas. When most people think of Italian food, they think of Tuscany. We can all talk about the healthy fish dishes from the coast, but nothing beats a nice mushroom crostini followed by some potato and pancetta ravioli in butter sage sauce. And that is exactly what we cooked on Monday night. The Lees had finished just in time for me to notice that they never ate anything Sheila, Addie, or I cooked. This made dinner a little awkward, but pretty hilarious. Ted said that he hated every meal he has ever had in a restaurant. He and Helen were travelling the world taking cooking classes so Ted could learn to cook for himself. In theory a really fun retirement plan, but if you hate everything you have ever been served, it’s probably not a good idea to travel to foreign countries in search of food. A private chef might have been a better/cheaper choice for the Lees. By the way, there is no way that their names are “Ted and Helen”. In honor of them, Stacey and I chose Italian names as well. She is Devon and I am Eva. Eva plans to accompany me to Paris as well, but so far, no one has cared to ask her name. Ah Paris… Back to dinner. It was fantastic and I will definitely make it for anyone who brings wine to dinner. Once again, I must say that fresh pasta is so amazing, and so easy. That is my kind of magic trick.
In Tuesday’s Tuscan cooking class, we made ribolita. It is such a staple in Tuscany that I’m almost embarrassed I don’t know how to spell it. I must quickly mention my obvious and severe decline in mental ability since arriving in Italy. Maybe it’s the wine at lunch, or maybe it’s the wine at dinner, or maybe it’s my hormones, but I have completely lost my memory and intellect. I have become one of those people that can only pontificate about useless topics that require no actual supporting facts. I don’t really mind it at all. Only those around me suffer. Now, where was I? Oh yes, ribolita. Take onions, leeks, carrots, and celery and sauté, then add white wine, vegetable stock, black cabbage (which may be kale), and white beans. Simmer for an hour, and then pour over crusty bread. You are supposed to add crusty bread, then refrigerate for a day then “re-boil” it. However, cooking class is only 3 hours so we just poured it over the bread. Delicious, and I’m not a big fan of soup. I love pureed root vegetable soup, like carrot and butternut squash or leek and potato, but that’s it. However, I’ve found another category, soup with bread. It’s brilliant really. We also made chicken, roasted with potatoes, bell peppers, dried hot peppers, and olives. It was rich but healthy and wonderfully easy. Surprisingly, the chicken arrived already butchered. Even more surprising, it was not butchered with any rhyme or reason. In the US, chickens are butchered by cutting pieces at the joints creating wings, thighs, legs, and breasts, but the butchering philosophy behind this chicken was a mystery. Looking at the carcass pieces, I recalled the cartoons where a butcher takes his cleaver, raises it above his head, and whacks wherever it lands. This “technique” leaves you with bone fragments in every piece. It’s like the Italians don’t want to go through a single meal without pulling bones from their mouths. Butchering aside, I was delighted by the dish. While roasting at a high temperature, we stirred the mixture frequently to distribute the goodness of red wine, rosemary, and garlic. I think, but really I can’t remember (see above) and my recipes are packed away.
It is strange that I haven’t discussed the desserts that much. Since my spell check is now in French, I feel I must admit that I don’t know how to spell dessert, or desert. One is an indulgent luxury, while the other is a foreboding pile of sand. I love the irony so I won’t bother to look it up on dictionary.com. You can tell me, but I won’t remember. I’ve looked it up so many times and it just won’t stick. Anyway, the desserts were always a disappointment, but Italy is not about dessert unless it’s gelato. They tend to be either too bland or too sweet. I’m blessed that the cured meats and aged pecorino cheese were there to fill the void…
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