The Cherry Duet / Il Duetto delle Ciliegie

In onore del 150° anniversario quest’anno della nascita del grandissimo Mascagni, il Duetto delle Ciliegie della bellissima opera, L'Amico Fritz. Cantato dal leggendario tenore Ferruccio Tagliavini e sua moglie, la meravigliosa soprano Pia Tassinari.  Diretto dal compositore stesso (1942).

In honor of the 150th anniversary this year of the birth of the great Mascagni, the Cherry Duet from the beautiful opera, L'Amico Fritz. Sung by the legendary tenor Ferruccio Tagliavini and his wife, the wonderful soprano Pia Tassinari.  Conducted by the composer himself (1942).

Formerly, my name was Carbonara.

(Per la versione italiana di questa ricetta, cliccate qua.)

Many people don't know that the famous recipe, Spaghetti alla Carbonara, came not from Rome but from Irpinia (an ancient region, whose borders corresponded approximately to those of the modern province of Avellino). 

Aquilonia, the easternmost town in Avellino, was not always called Aquilonia.  From the Lombard invasion in 591 AD until the Unification of Italy in 1861, it was called Carbonara.  Its name probably does not refer to the principal occupation of the town's inhabitants, the production of charcoal, but instead to the presence in that area of special rocks that contained petrolium and, like charcoal, burned with a bright flame.  Even today, such stones can be found in a neighborhood called Sassano. 

The town's name was changed to Aquilonia after the Unification of Italy in 1861, at the behest of the liberal administration of the time.  In 1860, in fact, the town of Carbonara saw a bloody uprising by the Pro-Bourbons against the Unification, culminating in the murder of nine people and the conquest of Carbonara by the legendary brigand (and, some say, brilliant military strategist), Carmine Crocco.  To erase the stain of this rebellious episode, the town requested and obtained permission to change its name.  Aquilonia had been the ancient name of the town when it was part of Samnium.  In 293 BC the Romans defeated the Samnites in the Battle of Aquilonia. The town was called Aquilonia until the Lombards conquered in 591 AD and changed its name to Carbonara.

Aquilonia was destroyed in an earthquake in 1930.  The new town was built close by, at a higher altitude.  The historic old town was abandoned after World War II.

Today, the coat-of-arms of Aquilonia contains the Latin phrase, Olim mihi fuit nomen Carbonara ("Formerly, my name was Carbonara").

The following recipe (slightly simplified and freely translated) comes from the marvelous webpage of Tenuta Montelaura (tenutamontelaura.it)

Ingredients for 4 people:
1 lb. spaghettoni
1/2 lb. guanciale (or, if you can't find guanciale, pancetta)
1/2 lb. pecorino (NOT parmesan)
4 fresh* eggs, beaten (* = The recipe calls for eggs laid that same day!)
a drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil
salt to taste
coarsely-ground pepper to taste

Preparation:
Cook the spaghettoni in a pot of abundant salted water, with a little fine flour (farina 00) in the water.  While the pasta is cooking, in a nonstick frying pan, drizzle the oil and saute pieces of guanciale until crispy.  (Use guanciale instead of pancetta because it is more aromatic, and it becomes crispier, thanks to the higher content of fat and glands that one finds in this particular cut.) Add a few ladles' full of cooking liquid (which will add some thickness, due to the flour which you've previously added to the water).  Drain the pasta "roughly" (that is, don't try too hard to strain out every drop of water), and put the "roughly strained" pasta in the frying pan. Mix the guanciale, pasta, and liquid, and immediately shut off the heat.  After the heat has been shut off, add the eggs, which you do NOT cook; the eggs must remain RAW.  Stir in the pecorino and pepper, stirring energetically but not for more than 15 or 20 seconds.

Phooto: alimentipedia.it

Aquilonia, before the 1930 earthquake. Photo: www.opinioneirpina.it

Aquilonia, Museo Etnografico. Photo: corriereirpinia.it

Olim mihi fuit nomen Carbonara.

(For the English version of this recipe, click here.)

Molti non sanno che il famoso piatto, Spaghetti alla Carbonara, è una ricetta non romana ma irpina.

Aquilonia, il comune più ad est d'Avellino, non si chiamava sempre Aquilonia.  Dall'invasione longobarda del 591 d.C., fino all'Unificazione del 1861, si chiamava Carbonara.

Assunse il nome di Aquilonia dopo l'Unità d'Italia, nel 1861, per volontà politica dell'amministrazione liberale del tempo. Nel 1860, infatti, il paese di Carbonara conobbe una cruenta sommossa popolare filoborbonica contro l'Unità italiana che culminò con l'uccisione di nove persone. Nel 1861 il paese venne conquistato dal leggendario brigante (e, alcuni dicono, brillante stratega militare), Carmine Crocco. Per cancellare la macchia antiunitaria della storia del piccolo centro irpino, si chiese e si ottenne di cambiare nome al paese.  Aquilonia era stato l'antico nome del paese quando faceva parte del Sannio. Nel 293 a.C. i Romani sconfissero i Sanniti nella Battaglia di Aquilonia. Il paese si chiamava Aquilonia fino a quando i Longobardi lo conquistarono nel 591 d.C. e lo rinnominò Carbonara.

Dopo il terremoto del Vulture del 23 luglio 1930, il paese è stato completamente ricostruito in un luogo più alto rispetto alla locazione originale. Il vecchio centro abitato è stato definitivamente abbandonato nel dopoguerra.

Una recente iniziativa degli amministratori ha ricordato il nome originario e storico del paese, facendo inserire nello stemma civico la scritta, Olim mihi fuit nomen Carbonara (“Una volta, mi chiamavo Carbonara”).

La seguente ricetta viene dalla meravigliosa pagina web di Tenuta Montelaura (tenutamontelaura.it)

Ingredienti per quattro persone:
400 gr. di spaghettoni
200 gr. di guanciale di maiale di 18 mesi (no pancetta)
200 gr. di pecorino bagnolese da latte crudo (no parmigiano o pecorino romano)
4 uova fresche di giornata (vanno a crudo)
un filo d'olio extravergine di Ravece
sale e pepe q.b.

Procedimento:
Si lessa la pasta in abbondante acqua salata, addizionata con farina 00. Intanto che cuoce, in una padella antiaderente, si versa un filo d'olio di Ravece e si fa andare a fuoco basso il guanciale a tocchetti, fino a che diventa croccante. Uso il guanciale al posto della pancetta perchè è più aromatico e diventa più croccante, grazie alla maggiore consistenza del grasso e delle ghiandole che si trovano in questo particolare taglio. Aggiungere un paio di mestoli di acqua di cottura (molto densa per la farina che avete addizionato in precedenza) e deporre nella padella la pasta scolata grossolanamente. Operare una prima mantecatura per amalgamare il guanciale, la pasta e l'acqua di cottura, e spegnere immediatamente il fuoco. A crudo poi, aggiungere le uova che avrete precedentemente battuto, incorporandovi il pecorino bagnolese ed il pepe pestato grossolanamente.

Mantecare ancora, energicamente e per non più di 15/20 secondi, e servire...

Foto: alimentipedia.it

Aquilonia, prima del terremoto del 1930. Foto: www.opinioneirpina.it

Aquilonia, Museo Etnografico. Foto: corriereirpinia.it

Swordfish Balls!

(Lettrici e lettori italiani, visitate il meraviglioso blog della sig.na Sara Drilli.)

Greetings from beautiful, snowy Utah, where I am celebrating the new year with my wife, children, and in-laws.

I am distracted from my family, however.  And the reason is this:

And this:

And this:

Polpette, made not from beef or pork or veal but from ... Sicilian swordfish! Caught from the cool, fresh waters of the Tyrrhenian Sea!

I cannot think of anything else but these swordfish balls!  Dear Sara Drilli, on her magnificent blog I Pi@ttini di Drilli, provides the recipe:

400 gr. (c. 1 lb) swordfish, cut fine

a handful of pine nuts

fresh parsley, chopped

breadcrumbs

freshly grated parmigiano

2 eggs

Make them as you would regular meatballs.  Fry them in oil.  And let them "swim" in some tomato sauce for a little while.

Now, how does one make tomato sauce? 

I am often asked this question by Americans, and my answer invariably is: see this webpage:

Tomato Sauce 101

This website, Memorie di Angelina (http://memoriadiangelina.com), is in my humble opinion the best Italian-American foodblog. In terms of content, authenticity, and the clarity of the explanations, Memorie di Angelina has no equal.  Its author is Frank Fariello.  You will be hearing more about Mr. Fariello in Pensieri Meridionali -- I have much more to say about him.  For now all I will say is: had I discovered Memorie before starting Pensieri, I would never have started Pensieri.

Now, go read Tomato Sauce 101. For these swordfish balls, you can use either "Sauce #1," "Sauce #2," or "Sauce #3."

Respectful thanks to both Saridda and Frank.  And Buon Anno a tuttiquanti!

Enrico Caruso, Cantique de Noël

Qualcosa che ascolto ogni anno. Buon Natale!

 Something that I listen to every year. Merry Christmas!

Neapolitan Struffoli

Per la versione italiana di questo post, cliccate qua: http://matematicaecucina.blogspot.com/2012/12/struffoli-napoletani.html.

I'm thrilled to collaborate, once again, with the wonderful foodblogger and friend, Laura Tulimiero. The English translation of her recipe you will read below; the original Italian version is at her foodblog, Matematica e Cucina.

NEAPOLITAN STRUFFOLI
Struffoli Napoletani
by Laura Tulimiero

In the Neapolitan home, it's not Christmas if you don't have struffoli.  And even if the basic ingredients are the same, every family has its own personal recipe and maintains that their struffoli are obviously the best, their recipe being the authentic one.  

Today I will explain to you, step by step, how we prepare struffoli in my family.  I don't know if this is the recipe for "authentic struffoli"; I know only that we've been making them this way for many years and that for us, and for anyone who has tried them, the results are excellent. 

The recipe is quite easy to remember; in fact, the amounts can easily be diminished or augmented, given that everything is "in sixes." Seeing as my blog is also a diary, I wanted to prepare the stuffoli in my mother's kitchen, repeating her same motions and using her cast-iron frying pan (which is almost 60 years old), ideal for frying.   

Ingredients:

6 hectograms of flour (600 g, or 21 oz)

6 whole eggs

6 TB sugar

6 TB extra-virgin olive oil

6 TB seed oil (preferably corn)

a pinch of cinnamon

the rind of one lemon, grated

1 tsp baking powder for desserts

1 pinch salt

peanut oil for frying

wildflower honey (miele millefiori)

for garnish:

colored sprinkles

confetti cannellini (a white, sugar-coated candy with a cinnamon interior)

candied fruit (citron, orange peel, and little cherries) -- I didn't use them

Preparation:

Onto a pastry board, pour the flour and make a well, into which put the eggs, sugar, oil, lemon rind, cinammon, baking powder, and salt.

Mix it well, until you have a smooth, homogenous dough. 

Cut into little pieces and "lengthen" them with your hand, in the shape of a bread stick about a centimeter (0.4 in) wide.
Cut the sticks in little chunks about 1 cm (0.4 in) long, and arrange them on a paper plate, covered with a dish towel.  It is preferable not to add too much flour at this stage, otherwise when you fry the struffoli the oil will become "dirty" and will form an unpleasant foam.

Into a frying pan with high sides, pour the peanut oil.  Put in one struffolo, to test the temperature of the oil. 

When the struffolo rises to the top and the oil around it begins to sizzle, the temperature is right, and you can add the rest of the struffoli. 

Cook them, turning them with a fork, until golden.

In order to cook them just right, don't cook them all at once.  These were cooked in four batches. 
As soon as they are cooked, remove the struffoli from the pan and dry them on paper towels. 

Clean the pan, and heat a couple of TB of the honey. Add the struffoli to the boiling honey (here again, it's preferable to subdivide the struffoli into batches).  Stir well in order to evenly distribute the honey and to avoid burning.

Arrange them in the form of a ring onto a serving dish, as in the photo. 

Immediately after this, add the sprinkles and confetti.  You must do this immediately, while the honey is hot, otherwise the sprinkles will not stick. 

Here is the finished product.

Struffoli can last for a week.  It is said that it's better to make them a day or two ahead, to heighten the flavor. That piece of advice has been written in cookbooks and passed down through the generations.  What a shame that I cannot testify to its accuracy ... in my house struffoli don't last more than twenty-four hours!

Addio, sogni di gloria

Giuseppe Di Stefano (* 24 luglio 1921 Motta Sant’Anastasia, CT — † 3 marzo 2008 Santa Maria Hoè, LC) era un tenore smisuratamente popolare in America durante gli anni Cinquanta.  Non sono grandissimo fan di “Pippo,” ma nessuno ha catturato la malinconia e la sincerità di questa canzone meglio di lui.

Giuseppe Di Stefano (born 24 July 1921 Motta Sant’Anastasia, near Catania  — died 3 March 2008 Santa Maria Hoè, near Milan) was a wildly popular tenor in America during the Fifties.  I’m not a huge fan of “Pippo,” but no one captured the melancholy and sincerity of this song better than he.

Quando ragazzi felici andavamo alla scuola con la cartella a tracolla ed in tasca la mela per il futuro avevamo un vestito di gala quante speranze di gloria e di celebrità ma inesorabile il tempo tracciava il cammino e a testa china anneghiamo nel nostro destino. Addio sogni di gloria addio castelli in aria. Guardo con sordo rancore la mia scrivania cerco a scacciare ma invano la monotonia Addio anni di gioventù perchè perchè non ritornate più Sono una foglia d'autunno che nella tormenta teme il grigiore dei giorni l'inverno paventa La donna sincera aspettai compagna dei sogni miei ma invano cercai cercai amore anche tu dove sei Addio sogni di gloria addio castelli in aria Prendo la penna e continuo la doppia partita faccio una macchia d'inchiostro mi treman le dita Meglio tacer le memorie o vecchio cuor mio sogni di gloria addio

When we were happy children, we went to school, with our books on our shoulder and an apple in our pocket. For the future we had a fine suit. So many hopes of glory and of celebrity! But inexorably, time was tracing the pathway, and with bowed heads we drown in our destiny. Farewell, dreams of glory farewell, castles in the air. With dull rancor I look at my writing desk. I try, but in vain, to drive away the monotony. Farewell, years of youth. Because, because you will never return. I am an autumn leaf which, in a storm, dreads the grayness of the days of winter. I waited for a sincere woman, companion for my dreams. But in vain I searched, I searched. Love, even you: where are you? Farewell, dreams of glory. Farewell, castles in the air. I'll just pick up my pen and continue my bookkeeping. I made an ink stain; my fingers are trembling. Better to keep the memories silent, old heart of mine. Dreams of glory, farewell.