Introduction

If you lean in and really listen to the Baron, you’d swear he was getting drunk. I’ve seen the transformation before, when textbook Italian starts to ebb into marble-mouthed dialect, the linguistic synapse of a storyteller traveling back in time. First it was only a word of dialect here and there as we discussed the dishes of his childhood, but the last hour has had me squinting and hanging onto his every word, the way you might really grip the steering wheel while driving through a really thick fog.

‘Before there was so little, so very, very little’, he says, he eyes beginning to tear. ‘We always had just enough but those in the community struggled in ways that I think would be difficult to really imagine today. Unless you know real hunger, I mean real, real hunger- and for years at time- I don’t think the food down here is readily obvious. At least not from outside looking in anyway.’

I pour myself some more wine and disagree with him, at least in theory. I run a cooking school here in the Salento and those that come love the food of the region, for its pure flavours, never needing any of the back story to access the dishes on their own merit. The Baron falls silent for a moment and cocks his head to the side and eats a forkful of his Cecamariti, the way you might half-heartedly attempt to study a picture of your own mother, trying to forget who she is.

‘It’s good’, he says. ‘But I don’t think I can really taste it without also tasting the doorway back.’ He smacks his lips and takes another bite, holding his head low, as if he were in church.

I’ve decided to start my blog about the food of the Salento with the Baron because I believe that you, the reader, believe that the traditional food of the South of Italy is still being made by the poor, the uneducated, the rural and those that many of us would be tempted to call ‘peasants’. ‘Every morning in Italy, all the little old ladies wake up and begin to make everything fresh from scratch’. 

The opposite is more often the truth.

Traditional food in Italy is the process of flip-flopping, where the real luxury today is finding the time to make things from scratch for those you love. Traditional food is being kept alive by those that know enough to love it, that understand that there is always something more to any dish, beyond a list of its ingredients.  And that was what was really happening inside the Baron's mouth as he chewed. 

lunedì 28 aprile 2008

Le Salsicce Fresche (Fresh, Home-made Sausages).



Fresh Sausages.

You’ve heard the phrase, eating high on the hog. It’s a reference to the fact that the most tender and lean cuts are on the back of the animal, the part of the animal least appreciated by sausage makers and those interested in both fat and flavour, two things lacking in pork loin. You only need to think of the difference between a duck’s red breast and a chicken’s white to understand how use darkens, but also flavours, a muscle. We’re going to need to split the difference on this one. Ask your butcher for 60 % ground pork belly and 40 % shoulder, which should give you the right amount of fat to lean meat, the right balance between the unctuous richness and robust and macho flavour we expect from freshly-made sausages.

Sausage meat
Casings (hog or mutton, depending on size of funnel)
Fennel seeds
Anisette (sambuca will work)
Salt, 18 grams per kilo of meat.
Ground chilli flakes
Dried herbs, either a Provence blend or straight dried oregano.


Speciality machine, a sausage stuffer.

The morning of, soak the fennel seeds in anisette, preferably uncovered as to allow the alcohol to evaporate.

Keep everything as cold as possible, even the machine itself. There is a reason that warm zones produce little sausage. Place meat in a large bowl, and add salt as evenly as possible, in one kilo batches. Mix in herbs, fennel seeds and chilli peppers to taste (see note). Mix thoroughly, say, for 25 seconds but not more.
Thread casings on front of machine and follow manufactures instructions. Grill or sauté. Don’t overcook. Turn with tongs, NOT a fork, as you’ll only pierce the meat and try it out. We usually serve with sautéed peppers.

Note. When seasoning, form a tiny patty and sauté until cooked through. Taste and adjust seasoning.

Wine:
This is picnic food so you don’t want to go too fancy with the wine. A simple rough-and-tumble red, perhaps slightly chilled would be perfect. We serve Annalisa’s wine with these sausages.

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