Gourmet cooking for the home chef
Had a first-time experience recently sloshing down the Rhine River from Basel Switzerland to Amsterdam aboard the Avalon Waterways “Affinity” pictured above. Affinity for what is not exactly defined.
They say the Rhine River is unique in that it flows from south to north. Looking at the map it’s no surprise for a river that starts up in the Swiss Alps at 5000 or so feet above sea level and winds up in Holland at zero feet. Law of gravity no?
There is another name for stuffed pasta found on menus just about everywhere in Italy but apparently nowhere in the U.S. except maybe in the high end restaurants. The name is Agnolotti and you don’t ever pronounce the “g”.
These tasty items are normally stuffed with ground up braised veal or pork and parmesan cheese. According to the scholars the more familiar Ravioli usually, but not always, are stuffed with other cheeses such as ricotta and vegetables such as spinach, in addition to or instead of ground meat. So you ask, all in all what is the difference?
One day recently I nearly lapsed into a catatonic state watching the Food Network’s “Pioneer Woman” whip up a hearty batch of steak n’ eggs for all the buckaroos on the ranch. Before passing out I had a straight off the wall idea flash before me. I imagined that I would become the world’s leading expert on the connections between French and Italian cuisine.
All I needed was a place to start. I thought and thought. I figured I would begin with the complex and move on to the simple. For the first installment I decided a most convenient example of the introduction of Italian influence into French cooking might be the famous Bouillabaise and accordingly a rendering of the similarities between that dish and the Italian Zuppa di Pesce appears elsewhere on these pages if you can find it.
Despite being the totally unaccomplished baker that I am I foolishly accepted an invitation from the Order of the Sons of Italy in America, Ocean City Lodge, to prepare a seasonal dessert dish for a recent meeting of members. Since the OC Lodge has around 150 members, roughly 100 of whom show up at every meeting, other members were drafted to perform similar service for the occasion, each preparing something different.
Since it was Easter season I chose the one item that probably sits quietly on every Italian family table on Easter Sunday, waiting for the lasagne and roast pork or lamb to be consumed in their entirety. Crostata di Ricotta! Ricotta cheesecake.
Some idle background (which of course you should skip):
The word “crostata” is Italian for anything, sweet or savory, wrapped in a crust or pie dough, one version of which is commonly known in Italy as “pasta frolla.” You can make “pasta frolla” from scratch or you can make the pre-mixed boxed Pillsbury stuff, or you can make Betty Crocker’s Cookbook classic apple pie dough recipe and most likely no one will know the difference. I decided to take the high road.
In this instance I followed a recipe published by Chef Carlo Middione in his excellent volume The Food of Southern Italy (William Morrow & Co., New York, 1987, p 271). How many remember Carlo as the host of the now defunct TV series “Carlo Cooks“? It was one of those rare shows that provided straight no-nonsense informative content minus the family walk-ons (Lidia), the non-stop chatter (Rachel, Sunny), annoying slapstick (Alton Brown), or the mindless video clips of the local butcher or farmers market (Ina Garten). Carlo where are you buddy??
In any case once you get a handle on the “pasta frolla” you are on your way to a classic treat that actually does not need a holiday or particular season as an excuse to serve.
To make life interesting I set out below Carlo’s recipe for pasta frolla and in parentheses a popular recipe from an Italian website. Slightly different as you can see.
For the pie crust “pasta frolla:”
Process the flour, sugar, salt, lemon rind and butter until the ingredients just begin to look like coarse sand. Slowly add the water (or the egg yolks) until all ingredients come together in a rough ball. Turn onto a floured pastry board and knead quickly for two or three minutes or until everything holds together. Flatten the dough, wrap tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes.
For the ricotta filling:
Preparation:
Have ready a 9 or 10-inch springform pan and preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Soak the raisins in the rum for 20 minutes. Mix all the other ingredients in a bowl. Divide dough in half and roll out one half into a 16 inch circle, or one large enough to line the bottom and side of the baking pan, allowing a one inch border hanging over the edge.
Pour the filling into the pan to one inch below the rim and proceed with the top layer of dough. Now here is the caveat: Carlo’s recipe, and many the italian versions, call for making the fancy checkerboard interlaced strips for the top layer. I instead call for avoiding that like the plague, thus saving over an hour of agonizing labor with a crimping cutter. As a result more “pasta frolla” dough might be necessary for a wall-to-wall top crust, I took the precaution of making up a dough recipe with increased ingredient quantities all around. Three cups flour instead of 2 1/2, etc.
I omitted the candied orange peel called for in Carlo’s recipe. It seemed superfluous given the inclusion of orange and lemon zest. But it is traditional.
OK, brush the pastry top with egg wash and sprinkle with sugar, any kind, then bake for 45 minutes to an hour or until crust has a gorgeous golden brown color. If it doesn’t look gorgeous toss the whole thing and start over.
Being paranoid I allowed the cake to cool down to room temperature, then tapped it all around with the back of a spoon before attempting to release from the springform. Mine came out just fine so I rewarded myself with a double Margarita since the rum bottle was still hanging around on the kitchen table.
Probably the prize for the most unlikely title for a popular main dish should be awarded to the Romans. Some decades ago they concocted a veal cutlet creation using prosciutto ham and a leaf or two of sage as flavor accents. They gave it the most confounding label that would have the diner believe that the serving does not need a knife and fork because it simply “jumps in your mouth.” Saltimbocca alla Romana – the word “saltimbocca” being a fusion of the phrase “saltare in bocca.”
Hundreds of Italian cookbooks include this rather simple but tasty dish and uncharacteristically there is not much variation. The the only thing worth noting is that while all recipes call for pounding out thin slices of veal, only one cautions the unwary home chef about the biggest pitfall that will lead to a tough and chewy end result. That is failure to pound the meat so thin that it almost falls apart. The one exception I found is on my “go-to” Italian website Giallo Zafferano, wherein the video chef instructs the audience to pound the slices “as thinly as possible.” Good advice!
Veal pounded that thinly will cook in just over a minute on each side. There is not enough time to brown the meat to give it a more pleasing appearance. Thus some recipes call for dredging the scalloppine in flour and using high heat in the pan. But given that one side is covered with a slice of prosciutto the unappealing white color is not visible.
Nonetheless for the perfectionists I would try using the flour on the bottom side along with browned butter in the pan. I haven’t seen any recipes calling for browned butter but why not? The combination might give a better look as well as flavor to the final dish.
Dissecting this topic even further, the part I struggle with is pinning the sage and prosciutto slice to the veal. I’ve never encountered a toothpick in the dish at the Roman restaurants I visited. However Italian website videos consistently would have you serve the dish with toothpick and all. Not terribly appealing.
My version below claims success just by placing sage leaf and prosciutto firmly on the slice, cooking on the bare side for 1 minute or so at high heat and then flipping everything over carefully with a spatula as if it were a grilled cheese sandwich, cooking for another minute. Look ma no toothpick!
Also, the Italian recipes seem to want you to pin the sage, prosciutto and veal slice together with the sage leaf resting exposed on top of the slice. This does not work well.
Instead place the sage leaf on the veal slice and then put the prosciutto on top. Thus the sage is less likely to escape and wander around the dish as you devour the veal. Thanks to Mario Batali for recommending this very procedure in his recipe. However Mario also calls for the toothpick drill. Boo!
So for the nitpickers like me who want to execute a respectable “saltimbocca” without toothpicks follow these steps:
for 4 persons
Melt butter in a large saucepan on medium high heat. OK to brown the butter slightly if you choose. Meanwhile sprinkle slices on both sides with salt and pepper. Then dust one side of each veal slice with flour. On the other side place one or two fresh sage leaves and then cover with a prosciutto slice, trimming as necessary to avoid spilling over the edges of the meat.
Cook the veal slices 1 to 1 1/2 minutes per side taking care to flip without losing the prosciutto and the sage leaves. Holding the assemblage together with a finger tip while sliding the spatula underneath might help. Practice makes perfect.
Remove veal from the pan and deglaze pan with white wine. Pour the wine sauce over the veal and serve with lemon garnish. No toothpicks or utensils necessary.