Cookbook Author and Italian Culinary Tour Guide

Saturday was cold and snowy — a perfect day for cooking.  Our friends from New Jersey were not going to make it through the storm to our home, so I was free to make whatever  I pleased, my favorite way to cook.  No recipes, no limits.

I took a survey of the contents of the refrigerator and found a large piece of Tufino, a semi-firm cheese made from a blend of cow and sheep’s milk studded with nuggets of black truffles.  We had enjoyed slicing and eating it, but now I decided to try it cooked and an omelet seemed like the perfect test.

Truffled Cow and Sheep's Milk Cheese from Le Marche

I whisked 2 eggs with a spoonful of milk and some salt and poured them into a hot skillet where a puddle of sweet butter was sizzling.  Once the eggs had firmed up a little, I placed a row of thinly sliced Tufino down the center and folded the two sides over the cheese.  A minute or so later, the cheese was oozing out the ends.  Tufino is a fine melter!  I rolled  the omelet onto the plate, buttered some ciabatta toast, and dug in.  Butter, eggs, cheese, truffles and crunch — who cares if it snows all day!

Lunchtime came and the Tufino was still on my mind.  I knew it would make a fantastic toasted sandwich, but maybe it needed something else.

I had just received a gift of several packages of pre-sliced Prosciutto di San Daniele.  The innovative packaging kept the perfectly sliced prosciutto tender and flavorful and easy to separate.  When opened, the sweet, mellow and meaty aroma of prosciutto filled the air.  I tasted a slice.  It melted in my mouth with a mild, nutty, and sweet salty flavor.  I had to make the sandwiches fast before I ate up the whole contents of the package of prosciutto.

I spread some white bread with softened butter on one side as my reliable old Happy Day Griddle Grill heated on the stove.  I sandwiched  the cheese and prosciutto between two slices of bread and placed them on the grill side with a heavy pot cover on top.  They were toasted and ready to flip in just a few minutes.  I turned them and gave them a a couple of minutes more until I saw the cheese beginning to seep out the sides.  A few pieces of giardiniera to garnish the plate, and we were ready to eat.   The panini tasted as good as they look, which is awfully good!   I could see serving them cut into quarters at a party with some chilled prosecco.

Prosciutto di San Daniele

Hot zeppole on a cold winter’s day — how could I say no?  Charles and I went to Mia Dona yesterday to meet our old friends Rob and Linda for lunch and we had lots of catching up to do.  Between toasting the New Year and conversation, I ordered a creamy cauliflower soup topped with a dab of bright green arugula pesto — just what I was in the mood for.

Next came grilled mahimahi with artichokes drizzled with a lemony caper sauce served with olive oil crushed potatoes.  Meanwhile, Charles was just about swooning over the homemade cavatelli with meaty Sunday Ragu and a hefty chunk of pork brasciole.  Since my restaurant week lunch included dessert, I opted for the limoncello cheesecake.  Feelling pretty full,  I was happy to share it with everyone.   But the zeppole changed all that.

Donatella Arpaia, who owns Mia Dona, is an old friend and knows how much I love zeppole, and wouldn’t let us leave without some.

For me, zeppole are a reminder of Sunday nights when I was a kid. Since we always had the full on Italian American Sunday lunch experience with pasta, meat, vegetables, and usually pastry for dessert, we would typically skip dinner, or my mom would make us a little treat.   I always asked for zeppole.  Just before Ed Sullivan came on, she would fry up a big batch and drop them into a brown paper bag with cinnamon sugar.  Then she would shake the bag until the zeppole were completely coated. The bag would get all greasy and the doughnuts, because that is what they really are, would come out crunchy with sugar and spice. We’d eat them right away, fresh and hot and light as a feather, while we watched Topo Gigio or Senor Wences.

Anyway, the zeppole at Mia Dona were quite possibly even better than my mom’s.  We ate them so fast, I didn’t even get a chance to snap a picture! You will just have to go there yourself and try them.

Mia Dona is located on 58th Street between 2nd and 3rd Avenues.  They are open for lunch and dinner and the menu features the simple cooking of the Puglia region of Itay.

Radicchio Trevisano Tardiva

With its pointed leaves and gorgeous wine and cream color,  Radicchio Trevisano seems to jump right out of the produce aisle.  It is a welcome sight, especially at this time of year, when choices are limited.

Radicchio Trevisano Precoce

Radicchio Trevisano is grown in the Veneto region of Northeastern Italy near the city of Treviso where the climate is just right for the painstaking production process.  When I was in that area recently, I had the chance to visit Lucio Torresan who grows 2 types of Trevisano:  the early season bullet shaped heads known as precoce, and the later curled leaf kind known as tardiva.  Lucio explained that the process for growing radicchio was devised in the 19th century by a Belgian agronomist who applied techniques similar to those used for growing Belgian endive, is a member of the same botanical family. Lucio showed us how he harvests the plants, then places the bushy untrimmed bunches in shallow tubs of cold fresh water that is kept constantly circulating for between 15 and 18 days where the radicchio develops its distinctive flavor and color.  Then the plants are trimmed down to their tender hearts, rinsed again and packaged for shipping.

Radicchio Trevisano is good raw in salads, and cooked in risotto, in appetizers, and as a side dish.  The flavor of radicchio goes especially well with meats.  At a dinner at the  Ceccheto   winery organized by Buon Italia, the Italian food and wine promotional organization that had organized our trip, we had a chance to sample juicy grilled sausages made with radicchio and red wine,  radicchio roasted in a wrapping of pancetta, and in a mixed salad.  The sausages were made by Master Macellaio (butcher) Bruno Bassetto.  Bassetto is credited by the Guinness Book of World Records with having prepared the world’s longest salamella — I am not making this up– a skinny sausage that reached  7.018 meters (nearly 8 yards) in length!  While we watched, Bassetto demonstrated his meat cutting skills by first breaking down a beef carcass, then chopping the beef for carpaccio with 2 scary looking butcher knives.  With the carpaccio, he served a tangy and bittersweet roasted radicchio salsa that I could not wait to get home to my kitchen to try to duplicate.  I serve it with grilled sausages, steak or burgers, or on toasted Italian bread.

ROASTED RADICCHIO SALSA

This is really 3 recipes in one.  Make the radicchio for the salsa, or serve it plain as a side dish, or top it with a slice of Asiago and bake it a minute or so more until slightly melted for an appetizer.

Makes about 2-1/2 cups

12 ounces radicchio, preferably Trevisano

Extra virgin olive oil

Salt and freshly ground pepper

2 tablespoons capers, rinsed and drained and finely chopped

2 or 3 anchovy fillets, finely chopped

1 tablespoon minced red onion

Preheat the oven to 400 F.  Oil a large baking sheet.

Trim off a thin slice from the base of the radicchio.  Cut the radicchio into 1-inch thick wedges through the core.

Brush the radicchio with 2 tablespoons oil and sprinkle it with salt and pepper.

Bake the radicchio for 12 minutes or until lightly browned on the bottom.  Turn the pieces over and bake 8 minutes more or until nicely browned and softened.  Remove from the oven.

(At this point, you can serve the radicchio warm as a side dish or appetizer, drizzled with a little balsamic vinegar.)

In a bowl, mix together the capers, anchovies and onion.  When the radicchio is cool, place it on a board and chop it fine.  Transfer it to the bowl and add the vinegar and season to taste with more olive oil, salt and pepper.  Serve warm or at room temperature.

Crostini with Roasted Radicchio Salsa