Cotechino Time · 5 days ago by James Martin
Yep, we had a very traditional new year’s eve last night. What with the economy a mess, it doesn’t hurt to prick a fat sausage like you see held proudly in the picture, then simmer it in water for almost an hour before serving it with a big old pile of lentils.
Everything in this simple dish symbolizes money and wealth, from the round, coin-like lentils (and the rounds of sausage you place over them) to the richness of the Cotechino. Mmmm, peasant food at its best, at least for those of us who lust for better-than-peasantness in a future made bleak by economic scam artists encouraged by governments that should know better.
May your new year be happy and joyful and full of fat sausages.
Find out more about Italian New Year’s Celebrations
The Cost of Food - Hedonically speaking · 5 days ago by James Martin
I go to Italy at least twice a year for extended periods. Every time I return to the US I get sticker shock when shopping for dinner. It happened again recently, so I know it’s not a fluke. At least now I know why it’s happening.
Here’s an example. I can get nearly a quarter pound of Mortadella in Tuscany for a Euro or so. I pay much more than that for crappy “bologna” in the states.
Heck, a small box of crackers in a US supermarket now costs over $4. For flour, water, salt and a box.
Yes, it’s true. Food prices have soared in the US.
But there’s no inflation I hear you say! Hardly any at all! Well, none to speak of.
So how come food prices have skyrocketed without inflation? All without a corresponding rise in salaries, or even an increase in the dole?
It turns out that the current US government, having as its best interest the profits of big business over the well-being of its citizens and small business owners, has decided to use a whole lotta “statistical flimflam” to cook the books, just like their keepers, the titans of industry. The result is faked low inflation numbers, so the feds don’t have to increase the Social Security payout or pay higher interest on Treasury Inflation-Protected Securities, which has some foreign government investors fuming. This way wages are kept low and government can ease money supply until it practically gives greenbacks away.
You see, as Guido Veloce points out in Lower Standard of Living by Design:
Bureau of Labor Statistics (makes) inflation smaller than it really is by using “Hedonic quality adjustments” to measure changes in the value of the product over time. So, a car today might cost three times what a typical car cost in the ’60s, but it’s safer, more fuel efficient, and it generally goes where you steer it—so it has more value than a ’60s car. In the end, the government argues, a car today doesn’t really cost three times as much because its value is more.
Maybe—if you like to crash cars or drive them around race tracks. But the big problem is, the every-growing government has tried to apply the same “logic” to food, arguing that if you can’t afford the lamb that’s currently going for around $10 a pound, you can always eat chicken or pork. If you can’t eat them, you can eat dirt and creepy-crawling things from the front yard. So food prices never actually rise, you just end up eating crap you never thought you’d have to eat. (Some day Andrew Zimmern will seem like a regular Joe without a job, all on account of slimy crawling things becoming the food of choice amongst folks who didn’t have a choice.)
So real inflation eats into our paychecks and what little savings we have (and why should we have any savings, since there’s little reason to put your money in a corrupt bank with today’s fake low interest rates? Shouldn’t they want our money?)
So there’s yet another reason to go to Italy. Sure, the government is corrupt and the bureaucracy is out of this world slow, but you eat (and drink) well for less. I do get drinkable bottles of wine in the Lunigiana for a Euro. I get sausage for the equivalent of a couple bucks a pound. A worker’s lunch in a restaurant with wine, coffee and three courses runs me 9-12 Euros. Train transportation is cheap. But buy a house, hotels are expensive.
And impeach the fools before you’ll eat dirt, will ya?
Symmetry in Altopascio · 9 days ago by James Martin
The Chiesa di San Jacopo is one of the remnants of the Middle ages in Altopascio. Here poor San Jacopo takes on a pigeon.
Altopascio, a Tuscan village of a little over 12,000 people today, was founded in 1060 when a group of folks built a hospice there along the Via Francigena. Altopascio became well known for the quality of its bread.
So if you ask seasoned travelers if you should go to Altopascio, given its history, they will invariably answer “no,” citing the large build-up of modern commercial bread factories just outside of the medieval center.
Of course, when people tell me I shouldn’t visit somewhere, I just have to go. It’s just the way I am.
The medieval village is actually quite pleasant. There are several fine restaurants. We had a good lunch at Osteria La Dispensa, right in the middle of town. It’s not worth more than an afternoon, but you can have a pleasant stroll and see the buildings of the hospice, the Chiesa di San Jacopo (shown), and the Torre Voltola (Voltola Tower).
Here’s a map of Altopascio.
Chicken Hearts and Other Random Christmas Eve Thoughts · 12 days ago by James Martin
We Americans just don’t eat enough of that essential, beating muscle in the center of the chicken’s feathery chest: the heart.
How do I know this? I just got a bonus with my organic, bagged chicken. Many hearts. Some extra liver too. I’m sure the packer meant well, I mean, what kind of low life scum would try to increase the profit of a company by including more gut than the bird was given by her goddess?
No, I’m sure chicken hearts are a delicacy wherever the chickens were bagged—and the giddy folks at the plant just want me to jump on the “happiness through giblets” bandwagon. Perhaps the chickens were processed in the Thousand Islands, where the icky poo poo salad dressing comes from and the people are totally nekid because their simple language only allows one meaning for each word and “dressing” was already taken.
Anyway, “Giblets” is a funny word, isn’t it? I love what Wikipedia has to say about it:
The term is culinary usage only; zoologists do not refer to the “giblets” of a bird.
Gawd, I hope not. Imagine wearing a white lab coat and having to say to your superiors that you’re working on Proboscidea giblets. That’d be like torture. It’s a wonder Dick Cheney didn’t think of it. “Waterboarding Elephant Giblets. Film at 11.”
And how come calcium builds bones but eating hearts neither helps your ticker nor gives you a soft feeling for people poorer than you?
I can’t even find an Italian recipe for chicken hearts right now, but I’d take some Spicy Chicken Hearts if you offered me some.
The recipe has Stinky Bean in it.
Listen to what the cook has to say about it:
They are an acquired taste. Although I grow up around it, I have to admit that never I ate it until yesterday. They are not bad. The after taste, however, was extremely interesting. I mean “after” – such as body odor, body gas, and anything your body secrete after that particular meal is captivating.
Mmmmm, captivating.
I need some more egg nog. Captivating.
Italian "Basket" and Marco Belinelli · 13 days ago by James Martin
When we think of “American” sports in countries like Italy we think of them as being dominated by aging American stars or players that just couldn’t make it in the US. Don’t get mad or nod in agreement. It makes us feel good to think thusly. We need to feel good about something. That doesn’t mean it’s always true of course.
Take basketball, for example. It’s called Pallacanestro in Italy. Really though, fans call it “basket”. Each team is allowed a few foreign stars.
The whole idea of foreign stars bulking up Italian teams provides fodder for American writers looking for good food during their out-of-the-US research. Take John Grisham’s Playing for Pizza, for example.
In any case, perhaps the tide is turning. Marco Belinelli has been playing like a man possessed with the Golden State Warriors lately. It’s not that it’s all that difficult to stand pretty darn high above a bunch of pathetic losers, but at least the press is noticing.
Belinelli played for Bologna, a top team whose fans were immortalized in Dario Castagno’s Too Much Tuscan Sun for mooning the Siena fans after a last second Bologna victory. Siena fans struck back by catching up to them, ripping their pants off and carrying them outside the stadium. A good time was had by all. Well, those who weren’t injured in the melee at least.
Anyway, for those of you Italians following this blog, take note of your countryman. He’s doing good lately.
His behind-the-backboard shot against Milwaukee was called by Jackson: “The Italian Larry Bird” play. Monday, his nifty alley-oop pass to Andris Biedrins was eye-opening. ~ Warriors’ Belinelli quietly finding his niche
Caviar for the Poor · 15 days ago by James Martin
I dunno, there are times when I think the folks who run the world are quite daft.
Beluga caviar seized by Italian customs officers is to be distributed to poor people in Milan as a Christmas gift.
Now, on the face of it, this seems quite the act of sympathetic largess, giving $550,000 worth of a primitive fish’s canned eggs to the needy. But do you really think “needy” means “needing caviar?”
Or is it a slap in the face? Imagine the architects of the “let’s make gambling instruments out of poor people’s mortgages” crowd tipping a glass of bubble toward our imaginary camera, “Here’s what we eat before the roast lamb and potatoes come out of the oven. I don’t know how good it will be without the special crackers or the crumbles of boiled chicken egg, but there you go. You do have an itty bitty caviar spoon made out of mother-of-pearl, don’t you?”
I think the Milanese will have eggs on their faces over this one—upon which bread crumbs stick nicely.
Milan poor to get seized caviar
2009 Giro d'Italia del Centenario · 16 days ago by James Martin
Yes, this year marks the 100th running of the Giro d’Italia. Lance Armstrong has vowed to be there (his first time), and the course has been specially laid out to include some classic stages that were the scenes of immense battles between bikers in the past. It starts in Venice Lido and ends amongst the ruins of ancient Rome.
To see them, we’ve prepared a 2009 Giro Route Map to give you an idea of where Italy’s most popular bike race will be run in May. We’ve tried to outline what we think will be the “best” or most hotly contested stages.
It’s intended to be a map more for people, like me, who are moderately interested in bicycle racing, but want their viewing to be integrated into travel plans for a spring vacation. The page should evolve to include places to stay where you can have a great evening meal, then head off to get a prime viewing spot the next day.
So, if you own a bed and breakfast or agriturismo near the race and are knowledgeable enough about the race to provide guidance to guests, let us know in an email—the link is over in the orangy left column—and I’ll add your site or contact information to the page.
Eating the Bunny · 18 days ago by James Martin
I’ve reused a title I’ve used before. You see, I once wrote about restaurants in which discerning gourmets could chow down on rabbit in San Francisco. When the article came out people came after me like Iraqis with too many shoes. You’d have thought I’d asked them to eat their very own parakeets or cocker spaniels or something.
Let’s face it, bunnies seldom make good pets. They’re just cute I suppose—if you like fluffy animals who don’t give a hoot about their captors.
It’s just funny to me that in Italy a coniglio, or rabbit, is good eats, and right across the pond the they’re considered a worthy if fluffy-furred art form.
I was thinking all this when reading Little Bunny Foo-Foo Went Hoppin’ …Onto My Plate From La Tavola Marche. Coniglio alla Cacciatora was my initiation into American’s deep tradition of Rabbit taboos. Once, when cooking for an archaeological expedition in Sardinia, I decided to make the dish. Later I was told I had to make Chicken alla Cacciatora for the squeamish—and I wasn’t allowed to make it in the same pot as the rabbit!
In my village in Italy, folks keep rabbits right in the same pen with the chickens. I doubt they keep rabbits just for their eggs. There has to be something to put over the polenta when you can’t bag a wild boar, after all.
So what makes a rabbit more worthy of old age death than a wild boar?
I’ll never know I suppose. This arbitrary picking odd links in the food chain thing seems without reason and is therefore devoid of any reasonable explanation.
Of course you rabbit-lovers have a curse to use. You can wish rabbit starvation on the rest of us. That’s when all you have to eat is lean meat, like rabbit as winter comes on, and you eat it and you get sicker and sicker and you eat more and more and actually starve. A tiny bit of fat (or perhaps even some good carbohydrates) would enable you to live, enable your body, as I understand it, to produce amino acids to repair itself and bolster the immune system. But when the bunnies are running out of things to eat until they’re lean as they can be, then there’s not much vegetation around either. Gold miners in California were particularly hard hit by this dreadful disease, I’m told.
So, um, maybe I’ll just have a slab o’ cow. I mean, winter is coming on, and, you know, seeing that t-bone nestled in its little Styrofoam prison is so reassuring. I mean, it’s not like it was ever alive at all…
Kids Meals · 19 days ago by James Martin
There is a huge difference between what kids are fed in restaurants around the world. I got to thinking about this when I read Kids menus – do they dumb down children’s diets?. Certainly, in many countries they do.
Kids have different tastes than adults, and things taste—and smell—stronger to them. They have a strong affinity for foods with basic flavors: salty, sweet, fatty. They have more taste buds in more places than we adults do.
Why would God, or mom nature, or the creamy goodness of evolutionary intelligence make kids this way? Kids get into things. Most of those things end up in their mouths. Best to make them spit out the things that can kill them—bitter things, for example—and eat the things that fulfill basic needs (fat and salt) and things that are ripe (sweet).
I agree with the article referenced above, that kid’s meals in restaurants don’t challenge them to eat unfamiliar foods.
The problem isn’t that kid’s meals at restaurants exist, it’s that in countries where food is mostly industrial (where most of the restaurants are corporate chains) kids are never weaned off these foods. So the kid’s menu is always the same—Deep fried chicken nuggets (ground up chicken so they can avoid chewing), greasy hamburger and fries, and spaghetti with bland tomato sauce—and only changes in portion size when you look at the “adult menu.”
In Italy, very young kids get to eat spaghetti with butter and cheese at a restaurant, and later graduate to the full spectrum of flavors that a fine adult cuisine offers.
As we age we actually lose taste buds. That’s because an adult in any reasonable society learns what is good to eat, and doesn’t have the same need to avoid foods the might be bad to eat. There is no reason not to eat, for example, slightly bitter foods, like cima di rape that are not poisonous. Reasonable societies wean kids off the primary flavors of food as soon as those kids are old enough to deal with the complexities of good food.
The fly in the ointment is food cost. In an industrial society, there is great benefit to keep us all on a juvenile diet. Fat, salt and sugar are cheap. You don’t need a developed palate to enjoy them. Profit levels are very high for such foods, even when the cost to consumer is low. So you find, for example, sugar in everything, including (duh!) in American “Italian” salad dressing, a travesty.
Fat is cheap because people have been told to be afraid of it, yet it finds its way into lots of industrial foods, especially foods destined for children, because of the cheapness and the child’s desire for it—desire to store an essential ingredient that is an evolutionary remnant from the days before herding when fat was scarce.
It’s just another reason I like living—albeit part time—in Italy. Restaurants are extensions of the family kitchen, not an industrial production line where beancounters rule and larders are full of it.
Learning to Ride the Rails in Italy? I Wanna Flash You Something Fierce · 22 days ago by James Martin
Ok, before you think a lascivious hacker has gotten in here and left you with a fine porno (which lots of you search for—I can tell), I must confess that I’ve been working with—ok, fiddling with—the new Adobe Flash CS4 along with a picture of one of those departure boards you see at the train station (which looks suspiciously like the ones they have at the airport) and have made an interactive board so even if you don’t speak a word of Italian you can click around and (quite likely) become more confused than ever.
(Dang, if that ain’t one o’ the longest sentences I ever writ…)
Anyway, check out the interactive departure board. It’s worth some clicks and mouseovers at least. It’s from Venice, after all, the king of Acqua Alta and also the start of the 100th running of the Giro d’Italia.
It’s also in the new, shimmering white of Wandering Italy v. 2. Oh, the purity of it.