There is nothing better than summertime in Connecticut, especially out on the waters of Long Island Sound. We have a seventeen foot motor boat that’s perfect for cruising around the Sound’s islands and inlets. All summer long we fish, swim and hang out on the boat.  In August, when the water heats up, we like to head into the salt marshes to hunt out the ultimate summertime treat, blue crabs. We had a successful outing the other day and after a few hours had a bucketful of beautiful blue crabs – plenty to make a classic Italian – American dish we both grew up eating and one of our absolute favorites – spaghetti with crab sauce.

Melissa’s father, Fran, grew up mushrooming with his father and grandfather, who brought his passion for foraging to America when he immigrated here in the early 1900’s from a small village in the Campania region of southern Italy. Fran in turn has been teaching us the finer intricacies and secrets of finding delicious mushrooms growing in the wild. Every fall we take the dogs and go deep into the woods and search for a variety of mushrooms on the forest floor. Wild mushrooms have a distinct earthiness to them that is pleasantly pungent and taste nothing like the cultivated varieties in our grocery stores. My first experience eating a NY strip roast that had been roasted with fresh wild mushrooms was a revelation as to why people become fanatical about seeking out their own in the wild.

Yesterday, on my drive home from work, I got a call from Fran whose voice was frantic and urgent. Chanterelles, thousands of them – were growing all over his friend’s back yard. We went later that day and it was no joke. Clusters of beautiful, yellow, trumpet shaped mushrooms were sprouting everywhere. New mulch had recently been laid made from trees that must have contained Chanterelle spores. The intense humidity and sweltering heat of this summer and this past weekend’s thunderstorms created the perfect micro-climate for the mushrooms to sprout. An hour was spent collecting all of them, leaving the roots and cutting them with a knife and scissors, in hopes that they will grow again in the future. We made a simple pasta inspired from the bounty in which the delicate and natural flavor of the Chanterelle shine. It’s a taste that resonates with old world, unadulterated flavor and a rusticity that reminds us of meals we’ve had in Italy.

I moved to Rome after college with not much of a plan but to try and learn the language and find some type of work to immerse myself in Italian culture and I got really lucky.  Two brothers who owned a small furniture restoration shop in the heart of the city (Campo dei Fiori) took me into their lives and gave me an opportunity to live like a Roman artisan.  The work itself was not for me. Growing up, I deservedly earned the nickname the “bull” from my father for my full steam approach towards things and my personality and the painstakingly tedious craft of restoration was a recipe for disaster.  The brothers learned quickly about my way of doing things and there was always a watchful eye over every move I made inside the cluttered shop and, “Matteo, che cazzo stai facendo?”  (Matteo, what the hell are you doing) was pretty much a daily expression in the bottega.  But while I definitely lacked a burning passion for learning the finer nuances about restoring European antiques to their splendor, I became enamored with the Italian lifestyle.  My absolute favorite part of the day were the elaborate lunches we would create at the shop.  They would begin with a walk to the outdoor market to shop for ingredients that usually included a stop at the neighborhood bar for an espresso.  Back at the shop, a makeshift dining area would be fashioned from whatever furniture we were working on, and lunch prepared over a one burner stove that always included some type of pasta, fresh cheeses, cured meats, and wine.  Friends and family often stopped by to say hello and have a bite and a bit to drink and animated conversations would flow, transforming the dusty room into a trattoria-like ambience.  I remember always being in awe at how food was such an integral part of Italian culture and how much passion Italians shared for their local ingredients and the sacred daily rituals of eating.

During my second year there, Melissa and I began hanging out, and our shared interest in Italian food and wine brought us together on culinary journeys throughout the country.      Our travels exposed us to the wonders of authentic rural regional cuisine and I was blown away by the simplicity and goodness of it all.   After experiencing the authentic rustic cuisine in towns and cities outside of Rome, I came to the conclusion while Roman cooking as a whole was good, there was another world of Italian food to explore that went way beyond Pasta Carbonara and Pizza Bianca.  This early discovery of the bounties of Italy’s regional delicacies became the guiding light and focus of the next ten years of our lives that continues today.  On a recent trip to the Eternal City however, we were reminded of perhaps the pinnacle of Roman cuisine: Spring vegetables.  At our favorite wine bar, Cul de Sac, near to Piazza Navona, we were served a medley of stewed Spring vegetables in a small crock.  They weren’t vibrant green in color, rather a dull green / gray, but their flavor resonated with everything that makes Spring great.  Creamy fava beans, tender baby artichokes, and slightly bitter local greens awakened our palettes from their winter slumber and made us excited for the arrival of warm weather back home.  In our version of this Roman inspired dish we took advantage of whatever green vegetable we could find at home and paired it with a creamy buffalo mozzarella.  It makes for a great lunch for living la dolce vita wherever one may be.

We recently returned from a much needed, culinary inspired, vacation to Madrid.  Neither of us had been to the Spanish capital and we wanted a full immersion into the pulse of Madrid’s vibrant city life and to live and eat like a local for a bit.  We rented an apartment with high hopes of checking out some markets and cooking in a few nights; an idea that was quickly squashed after wandering around the maze of streets of the city center and seeing just how many enticing looking tapas bars and restaurants Madrid has to offer.  We immediately fell in love with the open air plazas, beautifully maintained parks and gardens and overall cleanliness of the entire city and it didn’t take much to fall into the relaxed pace of Spanish life.

Going out to eat was an ongoing education.  Their whole approach was much different than what we had experienced in Italy, and light years away from how we eat in the States.  At sharply two o clock, and not a minute before, the cities tapas bars burst into life as hungry patrons cram into the eateries to consume their main meal of the day.   Whether bellying up to the bar or properly seated at a table, course after course of tapas, small plates, salads, and full entrees, are consumed over a two hour leisurely long lunch that are washed down with numerous small glasses of cold draft ale or carafe’s of the house wine.  The Spanish zest for life transpires through their appreciation and passion for eating and drinking in good company, and the loud and chaotic bars and restaurants emblematic of a vibrant food culture that’s a whole lot of fun to experience and be a part of.

Near to our apartment, we discovered a real gem of a place in the wrought iron covered San Miguel Market.  Once a bustling indoor neighborhood market has today been transformed into a thriving gastronomic destination.  A few of the original vendors remain, selling fish, meat, fruits and vegetables, but the real attraction here are the numerous tapas bars paying homage to superior quality Spanish ingredients. A true feast for the senses, San Miguel offers the best of Spanish cuisine put on display in an unbelievably cool setting, that hums with energy from patrons fueled by good food and drink. We hit San Miguel nearly every day during our trip, whether it was for a quick beer and a plate of jamon, raw oysters and sparkling cava, or an extended crawl throughout the entire market, sampling tapas and small bites at nearly every stall.  One of our favorite spots was a center island marble bar specializing in seafood that served a delicious cold poached seafood salad shimmering in olive oil and loaded with octopus, mussels,  and green and red pepper that made the dish bright and vibrant.

We tried our own version last weekend where we grilled the seafood instead of poaching it, and the smoky charred flavor added depth.  Everything got tossed with some quality olive oil and red wine vinegar for kick and then refrigerated to bring all of the flavors together.  That night while eating the salad and reminiscing about our trip, the Spanish inspired flavors took us back to Madrid, and the San Miguel market, and the undeniable conclusion about what a great city Madrid is.

In our time spent living in Italy, Easter never brought out adults dressed as a bunny or baskets filled with that annoying plastic grass, or sickly sweet yellow marshmallow candy. Easter in Italy means a celebration of family and life and a time to get together and eat what they have always eaten in Italy on Easter Sunday – succulent, baby lamb. Being of Italian descent, both of our families have also always eaten lamb at Easter. My grandmother’s version resembled and tasted something like a roasted pair of my grandfather’s shoes and growing up I always thought that’s what lamb tasted like – old and leathery and dry as sand. That’s until I spent my first Easter with Melissa’s family, whose annual tradition included a marinated leg of lamb grilled over a wood fire that was meaty and juicy with a hint of gamey flavor.
We had been hearing a lot lately about spring baby lamb and we thought that it would be fun to try out. After some research online, we quickly discovered that we weren’t the only ones thinking about eating baby lamb on Easter Sunday, as all online purveyors seemed to be sold out. We gave a call to Ron, our local butcher, and he was able to track one down for us from a small sheep farm in Massachusetts. It was a 40lb four month old baby lamb that had been milk fed its entire life. I jumped on it and made an appointment with him to show me how to break down the carcass.

In our small Connecticut town, we are extremely fortunate to have great places for sourcing excellent, top quality food. We do our grocery shopping here the old-fashioned way, avoiding supermarkets all together, by patronizing our local fishmonger, bakery, farm market, and butcher. Each has their own personality and character and shopping there gives us a greater sense of community and place as well as a connection to what we are eating.
Ron’s shop, Forte’s, has been in our town since the eighties, and his family has a long history of butchery. His grandfather originally had a veal slaughterhouse a few towns over from ours and Ron’s father built the business up into a thriving enterprise, becoming known for their superior veal. Once a week they would head to the cattle auctions where they would purchase their animals and truck them home and break them down the carcasses and prepping them for distribution. The meat would then be sold to supermarkets and small grocery stores throughout the northeast. Towards the early eighties the landscape of grocery shopping in America began to change with the arrival of the behemoth one stop shopping supermarket. These new mega stores did their own purchasing of livestock and butchering, slashing their costs and eliminating the need for the mom and pop slaughterhouses and butchers. What soon followed was the rise in inferior meat from grain fed fattened animals injected with steroids and hormones and the American diet became hooked on cheap meat.
Today, Forte’s thrives as Ron and his family, continues to do what they have always done by providing high quality meats and service. I met with Ron the Friday before Easter and was greatly impressed with both his patience and skills as he deftly broke down the baby lamb while explaining each step. The lamb was broken down into a variety of cuts and pieces and in less than an hour; I had an entire baby lamb vacuum sealed in individual bags and ready for cooking.
For Easter, we marinated one of the legs overnight in Melissa’s family’s traditional recipe of white wine, garlic, rosemary, thyme, parsley, and lemon zest. The next day fresh lemons are sliced thinly and placed on top of the leg for a few hours before grilling it over a wood fire. The meat was excellent and tender but its flavor was what really struck us as something great. It was lean and not at all fatty, sweet and aromatic and not at all gamey, and definitely different than any lamb we had ever eaten. Surprisingly, we had some meat left over that was close to the bone and the next day we made a hand cut lamb ragu with peas that got us excited for Spring. We hope it does for you too.

Recently, we attended a wine dinner and to finish the meal, we were presented with a cheese course.  During our host’s presentation of each cheese, she made an interesting point about cheese in America, comparing it to where the wine world was fifteen years ago.  If her theory is correct, and we are at the early incarnation of a cheese revolution here in the states, then I would have to claim Vermont as the Napa Valley of the cheese world here in America.

During our most recent trip to the Green Mountain state we stopped by the Taylor dairy farm, confirming Vermont’s dedication and devotion to crafting high quality small batch artisanal cheeses.  Traditionally only a dairy farm, the Wright family began making cheese at the turn of the century.  Seeking an alternative to the ubiquitous cheddar and wanting to separate themselves from other dairy farms in the state, the Wrights looked to produce something unique, and ultimately chose gouda.  Today, the business thrives and Taylor Farm has won countless awards and accolades for the various types of gouda whose taste they attribute to the high quality milk that comes from their cows who graze openly on 180 year old natural pastures.  We bought a wedge of the the farm’s maple smoked gouda whose distinct taste comes from a gentle smoke over Vermont maple wood.  An exceptional melting cheese, we paired it with a watercress pesto, whose peppery heat was mellowed by the delicate smokey flavor of the gouda.  Feel free to substitute any smoked cheese that can melt well.

For two non farmers, we have spent a fair amount of time on farms. In researching for, The Italian Farmer’s Table, we visited over thirty working farms and prior to that, we spent a year living and working on several farms throughout central Italy. For us, there’s something extremely gratifying about farms; learning their practices, seeing how they grow and raise the products we consume, and we try and patronize as many locally as we can fit into our busy lives. Aside from their raw agricultural products, we love the natural beauty and pastural charm of certain farms we have visited over the years. We have our favorites in Italy, that inspired us with their vine covered hills or mountainous backdrops, and now we have one to add to that list that’s close to home in East Lyme, Connecticut.

White Gate Farm’s idyllic setting is reminiscent of a New England landscape painting from the early 1800’s.  Perfectly restored stonewalls snake throughout the property, climbing hills and encircling the entire farm that’s made up of endless fields, bright white barns and a large silo.  We met owners Pauline and David this past weekend and their obvious passion for what they do is exuded throughout the entire farm.  Currently, in the winter months, the couple spends their time devoted to growing a tremendous variety of salad greens in the protected warmth of two greenhouses.  We were given a tour and encouraged to try some of the lesser know greens which are all grown organically.  Aside from the obvious health benefits of farming organically, Pauline and David also seek to improve soil fertility through the application of natural compost and minerals to provide nutrients that vegetable roots absorb directly.  This is turn allows all of their crops to have an extremely high level of vitamins and nutrients that industrial supermarket vegetables lack.  In addition to produce White Gate Farm also raises chickens, who live happily in a large fenced in area that they share with sheep in the spring .  At the farm’s market we were pleasantly surprised at the vast selection of goods for the middle of January.  Sorting through the fresh produce inspired a craving for a salad to cure our winter blues.  We chose an assortment of salad greens, short and stubby carrots, knotty, irregularly shaped  sunchokes, and a dozen multi colored eggs some whose shells were even blue.  Everything was paid for with an honor system that has customers weigh out their own goods and pay for them by leaving cash in a money box.  Leaving Pauline and David’s farm left us with a warm nostalgia for our days in Italy and at the simple pleasures of quality ingredients that are grown with patience and care in a serene and picturesque setting.

Bread has always been something we have always been slightly obsessed with.  Our pursuit of learning how to make the perfect loaf eventually brought us to a small village outside of Rome to apprentice in a family bakery.  There, our bleary eyed 4 am mornings were spent watching an old man and his son work an enormous 200 year old brick oven to bake delicious crackly and chewy artisanal bread.  Our dreams of opening our own brick oven bakery eventually waned – maybe it had something to do with those 4 am mornings – but a love for baking bread was instilled in us and is something we now do regularly at home.

In all the years of baking bread, pretzels have never been something I considered making.  Looking through some of our baking books a few weeks ago I was struck with an intense urge to learn about pretzels and to try my hand at baking off a few batches.  I mixed doughs from three different recipes and the hands down winner was from Joe Otiz’s The Village Baker.  His simple yet interesting recipe has a slow yeast fermentation that adds a depth of flavor and the big, pillowy, soft pretzels were chewy and toothsome.  They actually rose much higher than expected and we thought to use them as rolls for a German inspired sandwich.  We slow braised red cabbage in white wine with sugar and caraway seeds until meltingly tender, broiled a few German sausages, and slathered some dijon on the split pretzels.  They were salty, and sweet and had a tinge of heat from the mustard and were perfect to wash down with a crisp German lager.

]]> http://www.theitalianfarmerstable.com/2010/01/25/pretzel-rolls-with-smothered-cabbage-and-bratwurst/feed/ 0 http://www.theitalianfarmerstable.com/2010/01/11/homemade-bacon-strudel/ http://www.theitalianfarmerstable.com/2010/01/11/homemade-bacon-strudel/#comments Mon, 11 Jan 2010 20:48:33 +0000 melissa http://www.theitalianfarmerstable.com/?p=166

Lately, it seems that pork belly is all the rage.  We’ve seen it prepared on Top Chef, have had it out a few times in restaurants, and Thomas Keller’s new book, Ad Hoc at Home, has a quite involved multiple day process for making the fatty cut.  We thought we would try it out to see what we could come up with and decided to make it for Christmas.  Our local butcher special ordered the belly for us and we were given a serious amount of something we had never cooked before.  We braised half of it for Christmas, which we did Japanese style with soy sauce, ginger, and star anise and it was delicious, and decided to use the rest of it for making what pork belly is most known for – bacon.

It cured in a salt and brown sugar rub for a week and then we smoked it outside over hickory chips on our Weber charcoal grill in 5 degree northeast winter weather. Not the ideal time of year for slow smoking on an outdoor grill – our dog Japhy who loves bacon wouldn’t even come outside to help – but the results were definitely worth it.  Pure salty cured pork without nitrates or preservatives makes a world of difference and worth braving the elements.  We used some in an escarole and gruyere strudel inspired from northern Italy.  And you certainly don’t need to make your own bacon to make this recipe, any good quality, nitrate free bacon will work just fine.

Open pastures and rolling hills make up the vast landscape of Vermont’s Champlain Valley. The state’s northwest corner skirts the NY border and takes its name from Lake Champlain, whose waters extend into Canada.  From its fertile plains, the Champlian Valley takes claim as the most productive agricultural region of the entire state, with cheese as one of its most important products.  Cows and goats graze openly in the valley’s verdant pastures, producing exceptional quality milk used in cheese-making.  At the Middlebury farmer’s market situated in the heart of the region, we bought a semi-soft goat milk cheese from Twig Farm, known for their superior quality goat milk cheeses.  We thought its creamy texture and full bodied taste would be a perfect addition to the mac ‘ n cheese we planned on making that evening.  It proved to be delicious and a foolproof cold weather dish for eating in front of the fire.