Saturday I went to town, both for the market and because I needed to pry myself from my mousehole, to which I had become far too adapted when I wasn’t feeling so well. I lost an entire size in a week! I don’t recommend the method, however. Still, when my jeans wouldn’t stay where I put them, and I pulled out that tight, black pair and zipped them on, it was pretty interesting from my point of view.
Everybody was bundled up. Except me. It was cool and I was wearing this knit jacket, but they were wearing down jackets, all black but one. 
As the day wore on it got hot, but they only unzipped their jackets. Why do Italians feel the cold so much?
I visited friends here and there. I made an appointment and got a haircut. I lunched on ravioli ai porcini and it was splendid, the simplest rendition I have ever had and my favorite waitress in the world was right to recommend not using the cheese on it. I only ate half, so she proposed next time she’d give me a half portion. Oh, and they’ve added flavored ciabatte to the bread basket, which is a brilliant move in a place where the local bread is salt free! They make it in house, too, and the onion one was great. I drank my first glass of wine in over a week. Good.
The haircut is good as usual, but figlio Andrea was given the styling and made it so crazy I rinsed my hair when I got home. What gets into those two kids? Sister does that too, although Mata at least uses something flexible rather than what seems to be Elmer’s Glue-all. That family is one of the best things in Italy. Mum offered me homemade pastry as well as an espresso. I wish I could have eaten it.
So, I returned home with two tiny artichokes, a kilo of Pugliese tomatoes (in spite of Jeffo’s objections, they still truck them up here from Foggia,) a big bunch of white grapes that make my lips curl up into a smile, and two very small eggplant/aubergine. And 4 belts, all looking as if they might have come off Marc Jacobs’ runway, given me by a woman in Patrizia’s shop because I was the only one they fit. Three years ago I searched all over for a 24″ belt and never found a one. Now I have four, all in shades of red, red/brown and ranging from glazed leather to suede. The buckles are very nice indeed.
I need to get out more.
October 29th, 2007
I am learning to use the new camera. Once I figure out what all the settings are, I should produce better photos, but this camera has possibilities the 10 year old one never dreamed of, and there’s definitely a learning curve. So yesterday I decided to make a very simple pasta and use the camera to illustrate the process while also exploring what I’ve read on the blogs of much better photographers than I.
The pasta is almost “aglio e olio” which is almost as simple as it gets with pasta. The only ones I can think of that are simpler is with just butter or with just oil.
These are the ingredients I used with the pasta.
I bought those cherry peppers to see how hot they were. Barb and I were discussing this only last week. The answer is pretty hot, but not atomic. I used half of one for one serving and it was pleasantly piquant for me, and maybe too hot for most Umbrians. The cherry tomatoes are from a Puglian vendor and are just as sugary sweet as I recall them being in Puglia. That could be a problem in some dishes, but it won’t be in this one. The photo was taken outside in full sun. Most good photographers recommend that, and I love the shadows and the flooding light. I wouldn’t love my pasta so much if it had to go outside before eating it.
I heated the water to boiling, salted it and put the penne in to cook before I started the sauce. The penne I used are from Gragnano, which is a word you should look for. It’s a place where they still do dried pasta the traditional way, and it doesn’t cost more. It actually costs less than better-known pastas. It takes up to 10 minutes (they say) to cook penne, but I think between 8 and 9. That’s how long it will take to make the sauce.
I heated the frying pan and added good olive oil, then the minced half of the cherry pepper and about 1/4 teaspoon of salt to sauté for a few minutes. I then added one minced clove of garlic and a ladle full of the pasta water, which is about 1/2 cup. Five minutes into the cooking of the pasta, I added cherry tomatoes which I had halved or quartered, depending on the size, and this is what it looked like at that point. Note that I see the steam, but the lens isn’t steaming up. I wonder if that is because it is so much smaller than the previous lens?
Once the pasta was done to my decidedly al dente taste, I drained it and quickly added it to the simmering sauce, plated it and put a little aged, grated Pecorino on it. I later added more, but I didn’t take the chance that it wouldn’t taste right and my pasta would already be covered in it. There are many things I will do for this blog but eating really bad food is not one of them.
That’s the least successful of all the photos. I haven’t yet really got a handle on doing close-up shots yet and the part that is in focus is in the middle of the plate while the leading edge is out of focus. I bought this camera largely for it’s superior ability to deliver macro photography, so obviously I need to read that part of the manual a few more times.
But the pasta was good, maybe even great. I could have eaten the same bowl twice, as a matter of fact. As they always say, the first law of Italian cookery is to choose the ingredients right and to respect them. It turns out that cherry peppers and very sweet cherry tomatoes make pleasant companions in the mouth.
It would also work to toss in some cooked white beans toward the end. What I’ve made here is the beginning of many Puglian pastas, to which are added the vegetables and fish which are the important things in the Puglian kitchen. This spiced oil would end up with beans and mussels to make the single best thing I ate last Spring in Puglia. I am going to offer this to Ruth for Presto Pasta Night, but shan’t be hurt if she turns it down, because it is just as much about a camera as it is about pasta.
I need to go back. To Puglia
The next day: Today I did the same thing only added beans instead of pasta. That was yummers!
So then I wandered over to Olga’s to talk about what an Umbrian would do with these peppers, and there were all the roofers taking coffee in her kitchen. They all had chili stories!
When they left, Olga and I decided to see where the heat is. We slivered off first flesh, nope. Then seeds, nope. I found it in the membranes and had to be stuffed with bread because I was ON FIRE!
September 17th, 2007
The genuine Greek salad, as I found it when eating in Mykonos in 1984.
This summer there’s one difference. Instead of chunks of plain fresh tomatoes, the tomatoes are made up into Ligurian tomato salad. The tomatoes are chunked, sprinkled with salt, a finely minced clove of garlic goes in, and then it is doused with good olive oil. When eating it on its own, I add a generous amount of finely sliced fresh basil, but for Greek salad I do not. The bowl of tomatoes is covered with a clean dishtowel and left to marinate for at least 30 minutes.
To assemble this Greek salad, which I love to have composed rather than tossed, I peel and chunk a cucumber for the first layer. Over that goes a similar amount of the tomato salad, then a layer of finely sliced onion, a layer of crumbled Feta, and last a handful of dry-cured black olives. This has made me happy five times this week! One other time I sliced everything very thin instead and layered it onto a dry-grilled piadina– a dead ringer for a flour tortilla. A bit of oil and then roll ‘her up. Cut in two and tackle with your hands.
It makes me feel like a Greek island goddess.
August 18th, 2007
