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梦雪9992

金虫 (小有名气)

[交流] 意大利饮食

ITALY



AT THE RENTAL-CAR RETURN MILAN’S Malpensa airport, I take a last pensive sniff of our Fiat Panda. Someone should bottle the scent snd call it Aroma Artigianale. The top notes arc of roastcd hazclnuts the vaunted Piedmontese nocciole delle Langhe in the crumbly cookies eaten just an hour ago. The base notes:Amalfi lemons we’d picked off trees in Campania. In between is faded porcine douquet, mingling the expensive muskiness of three-year-old culatello ham from Emilia-Romagna with the garlicky ping of a porchetta sandwich from a weekend market in Umbria.

Ah, Umbria! Where we drizzled truffled honey on slices of young pecorino at Tartufi Bianconi, a wonderful truffle shop near Citta di Castello. “Quit hallucinating!” says Barry, my fidanzato. “Figure our how to get the Robiola cheese through customs!”

We had embarked on a glutton’s grand tour of the boot-armed with a list, amassed with the diligent aid of top Italian chefs and critics, of the country’s best food(and booze) artisans. Our itinerary would take us from Rome to Campania, through a brief porchetta detour to Umbria, farther north through pig-happy Emilia-Romagna, and on to wine-soaked Piedmont. Trattorias and fine-dining temples would figure in. But the main idea was to break bread with pizzaioli, salumai, and chocolatiers.

A fctish for ingredicnts in the belpaese has, of coursc, long been celebrated, but now a new spirit is thriving all over the country. For ever mom-and-pop farm there’s a young pomodoro grower with a Ph.D. in botany. Along with village bakers, we met chocolate makers obsessed with rare cacao beans and next-generation pizzaioli schooled in yeast biochemistry. Virtually every producer was a passionate preservationist on a mission to resurrect an heirloom pig_or a grape, or a goat cheese. The Piedmontese rawmilk Robiola di Roccaverano now swaddled deep in my suitcase was one such goat cheese. The road to it led from Rome.

PIZZA, BEER, AND GELATO IN ROME

Off the plane from New York City, we fight jet lag with a gelatothon at Gelateria dei Gracchi, in Prati. We have 24 hours in the Eternal City to taste our short list, dictated to me by the editors of the popular Gambero rosso guide to wine snd food. Gracchi looks spare_clinical even. But a just-delivered crate of wild strawberries fragrantly reassures us. So does Gracchi’s pistachio gelato, considered Rome’s best. It’s alive with the flavor of fresh-roasted Bronte nuts from the slopes of Mount Etna. The gelatiere, Alberto manassei, is a Neoclassicist whose fruit flavors follow the draws on pure fondant(not just the usual cocoa powder).

Farther on into Prati, away from the Vatican, celebrity pizzaiolo Gabriele Bonci reinvents pizza al taglio_rectangular Roman pizza sold by weight_at the tiny Pizzarium. To dough fanatics, this cramped shop is the Sistine Chapel of yeast. Yeast, as in the wild stuff from 200-year-old sourdough starters that the eccentric Bonci collects from old ladies in Calabrian villages. Subversively fluffy by Roman standards, with an intimation of sourness, his dough is kneaded from a “cuvee” of flours stone-ground by Piedmontese miller Mulino Marino.

We wait for new pizza trays. Out comes spicy coppa sausage with blood orange, then hyper-Roman old-fashioned tomatoey tripe, cleaned over three days. Bonci’s signature pizza conlepatate_hand-crushed, densefleshed Abruzzo spuds with a hint of vanilla_is a canny trompel’oeil. Where does the dough end and the topping begin?

Bonci has found a soul mate in Leonardo Di Vincenzo, with whom he co-owns the yeast-centric Bir&Fud, in Trastevere. With a doctorate in biochemistry, the 33-year-old Di Vincenzo could be a poster boy for the new Italian artisan_discoursing on lactobacilli as easily as he rates obscure monastic Belgian brews. Four years ago his small-batch Birra del Borgo ignited Rome’s craft-beer craze. At Bir&Fud, Di Vincenzo’s brews are matched with Bonci’s dough-centric dishes_crostini, bruschetta, round Neapolitan pies.

Following Bonic, young Italian bakers have gone crazy for sourdough leavening. Lievito naturale_passed down from the owner’s family_is what raises the buttery cream-filled cornetti at Cristalli di Zucchero to stratospheres above all other breakfast pastries in town. For years sweet-toothed Romans trekked to the owner’s original pasticceria in the outlying Monteverde district. The new branch is barely a truffle toss from the Campidoglio, and inside, jewellike pastries marry French techniques with local ingredients.

Our time’s almost up in Rome. But how can we leave without paying respects to the monumentally chewy pizza bianca at Antico Forno Roscioli, by the Campo de Fiori? “Una droga” is how one customer praises this pizza, its distinctive crust formed when the six-foot oblongs of dough rest under a glazing of olive oil. We chew it on the two-hour train ride to Naples the next day.

PASTA, TOMATOES, AND ANCHOVIES IN CAMPANIA

     “Enzo Coccia!” roared Bonci when I asked who’s the greatest pizzaiolo in Naples. And so here we are in tony Posillipo quarter at Pizzeria La Notizia, where ilgrande Coccia barks his featherlight pies. Perfection, so he explains to us, relies on the complicated calibration of a mere trace of yeast, a 10-to 14-hour fermentation at room temperature(no refrigerators in the 1730’s, when pizza was born), and extra-loose dough. Ninety seconds in an 815 degree oak-and beech-fueled inferno, and the pies practically levitate onto the table, attractively blistered and honeycombed with tiny air bubbles_as essential to pizza greatness as marbling is to Kobe beef. The toppings are scant and expressive: bitter greens, smoked buffalo provala, a burst of Vesuvian pomodorini. A pizza bianca with a schmear of lard, basil, and pecorino is Coccia’s tribute to the pre-tomato age.

     The next day we hit the road, pressing south past Vesuvius, emerging an hour later at Vico Equense, a picturesque town on the Sorrentine Peninsula that travelers normally by pass for Positano. In so doing they miss the region’s most remarkable food shop. At La Tradizione, product curators Annamaria Cuomo and Salvatore Da Gennaro have assembled a wonderland of Campanian foodstuffs: San Marzano tomatoes handpicked in the Vesuvian soil; ricotta smoked over juniper; and the sack-shaped local raw cow’s-milk cheese provolone del Monaco, which Salvatore ages in caves and grottoes.

     The Da Gennaros take us in hand. First, spongy limoncello soaked baby babas at Gelateria Latteria Gabriele, which Cuomo’s family owns. Then lunch an’E Curti, an osteria in the shadow of Vesuvius, where super-mamma Angela Ceriello cooks regional soul food and her son Enzo D’Alessandro produces nucillo, a potent walnut digestivo. His is so terroir-driven, the slender bottles specify the exact sites where the nuts were picked. I mention Grangnano(epicenter for centuries of Italy’s dried durum-wheat pasta production). Presto: Salvatore whisks us off to the sunblasted town where pastas were once hung to dry along the main street.

     For dinner, the Da Gennaros drive us along a bit of hairpin Amalfi Coast road to Cetara. This is probably the last of the Amalfi villages to fully retain its salty traditional air and livelihood from anchovies_particularly their amber liquid by-prod-uct, colatura. Pasquale Torrente, owner of Al Convento restaurant, describes colatura-making with a semi-pagan glee: the fishing under a spring moon, the curing in barrels with chestnuts or lemons. The essence that seeps out of the salted fish is pure distillate of sea_added by expensive dropfuls to pastas such as Al Convento’s al dente Grangnano spaghetti.

     Campania’s product and restaurant boom owes thanks to Livia and Alfonso Iaccarino, of the Michelin two starred Don Alfonso 1890 restaurant, in Sant’Agata suidue Golfi, over looking the Gulf of Naples. The Iaccarinos_who also consult at the excellent restaurant at Le Sirenuse, in Positano_pioneered the organic kitchen garden in Europe almost three decades ago. They’re producers, too_of ethereal olive oils and limoncello with three times the average of infused citrus. Tumbling into the Mediterranean at the steep far tip of the Sorrentine Peninsula, their farm, Le Peracciole, was scrappy bare land when they bought it in 1990; turning it fertile has been an ongoing obsession. Livia drives us over, negotiating switchbacks with the sea down below. Then we wander on foot past olive trees and artichoke thistles, into a would of Amalfi lemons dangling from trellises. We gape at chalky-gray Capri, rising across from us in the twilight. “Gee, I’d buy here, too,” gulps Barry as Livia picks greens for a salad.

PROSCIUTTO AND PARMIGIANO IN EMILIA-ROMAGNA

     After passing through Tuscany’s classic hills we head north into the rich flat plains of Emilia-Romagan, land of rosy prosciuttos and vast circumferences of Parmigiano-Reggiano. Of aged aceto balsamico and pastas crafted from eggy sfoglie(sheets) thin enough to read through(ideally). All this awaits us in Modena, the affluent ducal town revered by Italian gastronauts. Out guide is Massimo Bottura, a chef who marries sensuous Slow Food preservationism with futuristic invention at the Michelin two-starred Osteria Francescana. I can’t wait to visit his favorite food artisans. One of them, Giancarlo Rubaldi, presides over Bar Schiavoni, in Modena’s exquisite covered market. Oblivious to the huge lines, Rubaldi meticulously assembles our lunch.
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xiaoqihu

铁杆木虫 (著名写手)
菲亚特熊猫是菲亚特一款汽车的名字
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不是不追求，而是不强求
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zap65535

木虫 (著名写手)

两院大学士后
to LZ：This theme is much easier for a cook rather than for a scientist or a pharmacist.
And for my part , unfortunately ,both Gastronomy and 50 coins fail to arouse my appetite.
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xiaoqihu

铁杆木虫 (著名写手)

无聊，翻译玩玩

梦雪9992(金币+2): 2010-02-27 17:31
The next day we hit the road, pressing south past Vesuvius, emerging an hour later at Vico Equense, a picturesque town on the Sorrentine Peninsula that travelers normally by pass for Positano. In so doing they miss the region’s most remarkable food shop. At La Tradizione, product curators Annamaria Cuomo and Salvatore Da Gennaro have assembled a wonderland of Campanian foodstuffs: San Marzano tomatoes handpicked in the Vesuvian soil; ricotta smoked over juniper; and the sack-shaped local raw cow’s-milk cheese provolone del Monaco, which Salvatore ages in caves and grottoes.

第二天，我们开拔，穿过Vesuvius，一个小时后到达了Vico Equense，一个在Sorrentine Peninsula犹如画一般的小镇，人们通常为了Positano错过的地方。他们错过了本地区著名的食物商店。La Tradizione是Annamaria Cuomo 和 Salvatore Da Gennaro为Campanian特色食品建成的美丽的地方：有亲手从Vesuvian摘来的 San Marzano西红柿，杜松木烟熏的 ricotta奶酪和本地的袋装Monaco鲜牛奶干奶酪
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xiaoqihu

铁杆木虫 (著名写手)
梦雪9992(金币+2): 2010-02-27 17:31
Our time’s almost up in Rome. But how can we leave without paying respects to the monumentally chewy pizza bianca at Antico Forno Roscioli by the Campo de Fiori? “Una droga” is how one customer praises this pizza, its distinctive crust formed when the six-foot oblongs of dough rest under a glazing of olive oil. We chew it on the two-hour train ride to Naples the next day.

我们在罗马的时间就要结束了，但是我们怎么能毫不留恋Antico Forno Roscioli的Campo de Fiori制作的嚼劲十足的bianca pizza。 “Una droga” 是食客对于它美好的评价，它独一无二的脆皮面饼是由放在橄榄油上的6英尺的长方形生面团橄榄油的发酵而来。我们在第二天去Naples的2个小时车程的火车上一直咀嚼着它来打发时间。

[ Last edited by xiaoqihu on 2010-2-22 at 03:05 ]
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