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
Patate al forno
Oven roasted potatoes
In my opinion, the difference between really good roasted potatoes and okay ones are the roasting time. You want toasty brown, crunchy little nuggets of potato, sweet with olive oil and herbs, the kind of dish that makes you call it your ‘home’ rather than just your ‘house’. Also, think beyond rosemary. Fresh sage is great, but try adding it at the beginning, the middle or even the end of cooking time. Tarragon as well. Thyme works wonders. And a little parsley and red chilli at the end makes you look like a great cook, when all you did is threw some herbs at it. And stack them tall too. Everyone loves that.
Potatoes
Salt
Herbs
Oil
Garlic
Bread crumbs (optional)
Prep your potatoes as see fit, leaving the skins on or off, etc. Be certain that the pieces are more or less even, for cooking time. Toss with lots of salt, some oil, the bread crumbs, if using, and place in a hot oven. Stir every ten minutes or so, until you’re convinced that they won’t stick anymore (this is largely based on whether you’re playing with waxy or starchy potatoes. Assuming you have a choice, go ‘starchy’ if you want crispy exteriors and fluffy interiors, waxy if you want waxy).
At 40 minutes or so, depending on how you cut them, starting checking them. You want crunchy bits, browned bits, bits that beg to be crunch on, the steam causing you to bite into them with your mouth open. If you can resist burning your mouth on them, they are probably not roasted enough.
Check for salt, toss with lots of parsley, some chilli flakes, maybe even a shot of raw oil. Place on a nice plate and marvel how simple the dish, yet ultimately profoundly satisfying to so much of the world.
Wine:
Serve with anything. I used served this with a bottle of expensive champagne and the potatoes seemed right at home.
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