Sixties salads are really something else. Those ladies (puh-lease, no gender neutrality necessary here – the gents were all off sippin’ old fashioneds) were willing to chop up anything, put it in mayo, and serve it up. OK, so maybe I’m exaggerating. But seriously, salads and canapes were a staple of any wife’s party repertoire, and there are many varieties of both scattered around the books on The Collection. Sometimes you find some with interesting flavor combos we might not necessarily think of in the 21st century.
(more…)
PISUM INDICUM. Pisum coques. cum despumaverit, porrum et coriandrum concidis et mittis in caccabum ut ferveat. et accipies sepias minutas, sic quomodo sunt cum atramento suo, ut simul coquantur. Adicies oleum, liquamen et vinum, fasciculum porri et coriandri. facies ut coquantur. cum coctum fuerit, teres piper, ligusticum, origanum, carei modicum, suffundis ius de suo sibi, vino et passo temperabis. sepias minutatim concidis et in pisum mittis. Piper asparges et inferes.
– Apicius, De Re Coquinaria V.iii.3
I’m honestly really not sure what makes these peas “Indian.” As a purely historical matter, there was trade between Rome and India (I’m lazy – if you want more info, check out this reputably-researched and -sourced Wikipedia article). The weird thing about this dish, though, is that it really isn’t very different from other dishes in Apicius’s collection: the typical Roman flavor profile is based heavily on leeks, cumin, coriander, sweet wine, pepper, garum, and garlic. These Indian peas have a good number of those ingredients, and not a ton of others. But then, I don’t know what 4th century Indian cooking was like – or what regions the Romans dealt with. I’m guessing they weren’t bringing takeout containers of chicken tikka masala back to Italy, though. Anyone know more about ancient cooking on the subcontinent?
Anyway, just a few things about Roman cooking. First, I always grind my spices by hand when I do it, to give the right taste and texture. Here are my cumin, coriander, oregano, peppercorns, and anise (I substituted the last for lovage, which I don’t have).
(more…)
I’ve blogged previously about recipes from my Jewish grandma. I have, however, been remiss in addressing my other culinary heritage. For Christmas, I’m home with my Mom, and I think it’s time to come clean: I’m a pizza bagel. Half Jewish. Half Italian. Actually, half Jewish and one quarter Italian/one quarter Welsh. So, enough with the bagels: it’s time for pizza. This Christmas, in between family time, I’m working a few traditional recipes into our meals, and posting them up here.
In Italian families, it’s traditional on Christmas Eve to eat fish. When big clans get together they’ll often have a “Feast of Seven Fishes.” I did this once with my grandparents and their friends: the feast lasted about 7 hours, with intense numbers of courses and a ridiculous amount of food. Because last night it was just me and my mom, we just made a really nice fish stew. I took the stew out of my mom’s copy of Marcella Hazan’s Classic Italian Cook Book. Marcella, if you haven’t heard of her, is to Italian cooking as Julia Child is to French: she wrote one of the first great English-language cook books for her cuisine – published in 1973.
We chose to do her brodetto di papi – “Dad’s soup.” It’s a simple, flavorful homestyle fish stew. Marcella’s recipe calls for whole fish and for pureeing of fish heads: I am technically on vacation and was simply not up for this. So, to add flavor I substituted Madeira wine for white, and tossed in a tablespoon of baharat. Cross-cuisine blog fusion! It turned out tasty and festive, if I may say so myself. I’m putting both versions of the recipe below (omitting fish heads), so you can try it old-school or modified.
While I was cleaning fish yesterday, my mom was pulling together a panettone – an Italian Christmas bread. This bread has been a feature of my Christmas morning for as long as I can remember, and is largely responsible for making me a little obsessed with candied fruits (I love little surprise chunks of citron, citrus peel, etc.). My mom uses a recipe from the old Vegetarian Epicure: it’s not a family recipe, but I’ve been eating it for so long that it is tradition. It’s not my handiwork, but I’m putting up pictures and recipe anyway – guest food is welcome!
Finally, today I’ve been heading north, so-to-speak, and paying tribute to my Anglo-Celtic heritage by trying my hand at figgy pudding. Yes, the thing from “We Wish You A Merry Christmas.” I got this recipe from my mom’s copy of Craig Claiborne’s New York Times Cook Book: her copy is actually a 1970 edition picked up around that time in Taiwan. The best bit: it’s pirated. Yes, people apparently used to pirate books as well as DVDs. I actually have pirated Taiwanese bound editions of Golden Age Batman and Superman comics my Dad picked up on that same trip. (These volumes are totally the “root” of my comic book geekdom. Thanks, Dad!) About Craig Claiborne, though, if recipe copyrights are dubious/thin, is there really a big problem with a pirated cookbook? Something for my lawyer readers to chew on along with Christmas dinner…
(more…)
I love mussels – they’re a great quick dinner, especially since most supermarkets now carry well-cleaned and de-bearded shellfish. My old books tell you to clean mussels for ages, but these days Whole Foods usually does it for you. All you have to do is toss those babies in a pot and steam them for ten minutes. Almost every one of my “big books” (the doorstops: Gourmet, Mrs. Beeton, the Gold Cook Book) had a recipe for Moules Mariniere , but I was looking for something different…and I found Mussels Apicella in Gourmet. I’ve tried without luck to figure out by Googling what “Apicella” refers to – let me know if you turn anything up!
Mussels Apicella (Serves 2)
2 lbs. mussels, cleaned
2 whole cloves garlic
2 tbsp. olive oil
1 tsp. crushed red pepper
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 c. water
6 sprigs parsley, plus some leaves for serving
1. Toss the raw mussels in oil with the garlic, sprigs of parsley, salt, and red pepper. Place over medium flame, add water, and steam for 10 minutes – until the mussels open of their own accord.
2. Sprinkle with reserved raw parsley and serve with bread to mop up mussel juices. So easy!
Note on mussels (and shellfish in general): I hate to break it to you, but mussels are alive when you buy them – or they should be. If a few haven’t opened when the others have, don’t try to open them: it usually means they were DOA and are not safe to eat.
Follow these directions:
A crudo quoslibet pisces lavas, in patina compones. adicies oleum, liquamen, vinum, cocturam, fasciculum porri, coriandri. dum coquitur, teres piper, ligusticum, origanum, fasciculum, de suo sibi fricabis, suffundes ius de suo sibi, ova cruda dissolves, temperas. exinanies in patinam, facies ut obligetur. cum tenuerit, piper asparges et inferes.
…and you wind up with this:
The incredibly appetizing “Patina zomoteganon” (Apicius IV.ii.27)!
This is actually a great starter recipe if you want to dabble a little in Roman cooking: it’s really easy, it doesn’t need too make esoteric ingredients, and the flavors are mild. The directions above translate roughly to: “Put raw fish in a pan. Add oil, liquamen, wine, cooking liquid, a bundle of leeks, coriander. While it is cooking, chop pepper, ligusticum, oregano, leeks, mash the things together, suffuse them with their juice, scramble raw eggs, mix them in proportion. Pour them into the pan and cook until they bind. When it holds together, sprinkle with pepper and serve.”
Liquamen (along with the more famous garum) was a sauce made from fermented fish. Romans used it ALL the time. Roman food actually has a lot of strong flavors – honey, sweet wine, vinegar, fish sauce, among others. When you don’t have a fridge you have to cover up not-so-great-tasting meat, fish, and produce a lot more. Because this recipe is fish-based the fish sauce flavor (I use Thai fish sauce – nuoc nam) doesn’t come through so much. I’ll have to do a full garum post soon: the history of the Roman fish sauce industry is really fascinating.
The other untranslated ingredient above, ligusticum, is an herb. It is apparently some variety of licorice-root. I just use parsley. Here’s a followable version of the recipe above. It’s actually healthy and tasty, and would go very nicely with rice or crusty bread.
Roman Fish Scramble (Serves 2)
1 lb. firm strong-tasting white fish (I used tilapia and it worked great)
4 eggs, beaten
2 small leeks, chopped
1/4 c. white cooking wine
2 tsp. nuoc nam (fish sauce)
1/4 tsp. ground coriander
2 tbsp. chopped parsley
Salt and pepper to taste
1. Cut the fish into 1- by 3-inch strips and set aside.
2. Heat oil in a sautee pan over medium heat. Add the leeks, stir for about a minute, then add the wine, fish sauce, and coriander. Cook until the leeks begin to soften.
3. Add the fish. Cook for 1 minute, add the parsley and some ground pepper, turn the fish pieces over, and cook for 1 minute more.
4. Pour in the eggs and scramble as they start to firm up. Break the fish pieces up a tiny bit and cook until the eggs are set. Serve and enjoy the fact that you’re sampling a recipe that’s nearly 2 millenia old!
