Being the 11th issue of Cosa Bolle in Pentola, your Italian Cuisine newsletter.

Sorry to send out two newsletters closely spaced, but I'm making up for lost time. How many of you have had your cars stolen? This has nothing to do with Italian food, but does have something to do with me -- when my father died I inherited his Fiat 500, a car shaped something like a VW bug but half the size. It was perfect for city driving because you could park it anywhere, while its maneuverability made it excellent for avoiding the obstacles in horrible dirt roads. So what if it could only break 50 mph going downhill; speed's not everything. Unfortunately, its locks were the kind that surrender to a nail file, and though we used a steering column lock it got stolen -- twice. The first time it was recovered intact near a gypsy camp, but the second time it was totaled. So I couldn't help but feel a certain fascination at a recent newspaper article about a Florentine artisan who built a spring-loaded razorblade-guillotine gismo and slid it under the dash amidst the wiring the third time his car radio was stolen. He was at a bar when the screams began, and according to the article he finished his coffee before strolling out to join the crowd contemplating the fingertips the thief left behind -- along with the new radio. Apparently the police are now keeping an eye on the guy, lest the thief's friends decide to extract revenge. Though I'm not sure I believe it, it does make a good story.

Returning somewhat more on topic, I recently had an email conversation about wine recommendations that might be of interest to others as well, so I will build from it; the basic question was, "what sort of wine do you recommend for us po-folk?"

To which I said, The idea that a great wine must be expensive is simple myth. Though some of the really expensive wines are great, many are just driven by hype. I recently had proof of this when I went to dinner with the manager of a wine shop in New Jersey, and a Chianti & cheese producer. We began with a simple red wine from the Maremma that had a wonderfully fruity bouquet, beautiful balance, and rich smooth fruit on the palate as well; I wish I remember what it was called because it went perfectly with the antipasto and the ravioli.

Since the second course was more substantial we moved up, ordering a 1995 Rosso di Sera, a Supertuscan from Poggiopiano that Gambero Rosso awarded three goblets (its highest rating), saying, "… Awesome, it has and intense extremely fruity bouquet with amarena cherries, blackcurrants, blackberries, underpinned by elegant vanilla. But it's on the palate that it gives its best: Soft, concentrated, persistent, with rounded tannins wrapped in a silky, velvety body. For once the word exceptional means just that." Well, the wine was big, with lots of fruit and vanilla on the nose, and it was full on the palate, but it just wasn't pleasant to drink -- there was something disjointed about it, and rather than compliment our foods it tried to overcome them. So we ordered another bottle, this time a 93 Pergole Torte from Montevertine. By comparison the Pergole Torte was a much smaller, less brash wine; more importantly it had something the Rosso di Sera completely lacked: Finesse, and an ability to bring out the best of the foods. At the end of the meal it was gone, while the glasses with the Rosso di Sera were still half full.

"Pergole Torte is expensive," some might object. True, but so is Rosso di Sera, and given the choice between it and the inexpensive Maremman wine we all preferred the latter. What Rosso di Sera is, is a critic's darling, a wine that will stand out at a blind tasting of 50 wines, because it's that much larger, more concentrated, more extracted, and more whatever than the others. However, the qualities that help it get the top awards can also help it to clash with the foods it's served with. Pergole Torte was considered Italy's best wine by many until quite recently, but now no longer wins in these competitions, probably because it continues to be made the way it was in 1985, and its finesse and elegance are now completely overshadowed by the young bucks strutting about. The proof is in the dining, however, and come mealtime it's the wine with finesse that people want more of, not the critic's darling.

As for what kind of wine to serve (the second part of the question), it's not that cut-and-dried. Wine for what? Wine is meant to accompany foods, and the wine that will go perfectly with a steak could well seem harsh and tannic with fried chicken, which begs something light and zesty, with a fair amount of acidity to clear the palate. That light zesty wine, on the other hand, will probably seem thin with the steak. It's a question of balance.

"Something for an everyday red, as well as something for a very special occasion. Both red and white?" This is a difficult question to answer because I don't know what's available where you live, nor how much it costs. My standard everyday red wine is Chianti Classico d'Annata, the non-riserva Chianti, which I drive out into the country and buy (which winery varies on whim and the direction I happen to be going), whereas my standard whites are either Vernaccia di San Gimignano or Vermentino dei Colli di Luni -- the former because I visit friends who make it (at Montenidoli) and the latter because I like the wine and it's made not far from where my in-laws have a summer home on the coast. Were I somewhere else my answers would be different.

If you are in the US, what I suggest you do is purchase a copy of Mary Ewing Mulligan and Ed McCarthy's Wine Buying Companion for Dummies (IDG books), which reviews more than 500 wines in all price categories; they do give point scores, but also give good descriptions that include food pairing suggestions -- which is what really matters in my opinion. A great wine is a wine that compliments what it's served with, creating a sum that's greater than the parts. It's not necessarily something expensive.

Moving on to other things, K'Tesh, is looking for a tomato-free calamaro sauce for pasta; I have found a couple recipes that call for miniscule amounts of tomato, which can be left out if need be. Both recipes are quite standard, and are based on/translated from La Cucina Italiana's collection of pasta recipes (Fabbri Editori)

Spaghetti al Ragù di Totano

Totani are little members of the squid family, whose bodies one usually encounters cut into quarter-inch rings about an inch in diameter. The equivalent weight of small calamari will work fine, as will diced octopus.

To serve 4:

• 2 pounds small totani
• 1 pound spaghetti
• 1/3 cup olive oil
• A small onion, chopped
• 3 fresh basil leaves
• 2 cloves garlic, whole
• 1 tablespoon tomato sauce
• Sugar
• Salt & Pepper to taste

Clean the totani, and then cut their bodies into rings using a pair of scissors. Put them in a terracotta pot over low heat and salt them lightly; when the water they give off has been reabsorbed, sprinkle the oil over them, and then the chopped onion and the garlic. Sauté until the totani are golden and the onion is well wilted, then stir in the tomato sauce (or an equivalent volume water), the basil, and a pinch of sugar. Reduce the heat and simmer until the liquid draws away from the oil in the pot; add more hot water and continue simmering until the fish are done (about an hour in all).

Cook the pasta in lightly salted boiling water, drain it, and serve it with the sauce from the totani. What to with them? Serve them as a second course, with a tossed salad, and a Ciró rosato.

This is a classic Italian meal, with a first course, followed by a second course with vegetable, and a dessert. If you would like to serve the pasta and the fish together, use a little less fish and stir it into the pasta with the sauce.

Another option would be:

Spaghetti al Nero di Seppia -- Spaghetti, with Squid Ink

This requires extremely fresh squid, with their ink. Not exactly white, but not tomatoey either. You can also, if you wish, omit both tomato sauce and ink. Preparation time 1/2 hour, cooking time 1.5 hours.

For 4:

• 1 1/4 pounds extremely fresh squid
• 3/4 pound spaghetti
• 1/3 cup dry white wine
• 1 tablespoon tomato paste, or 3 tablespoons tomato sauce
• A small bunch parsley, minced
• 2 cloves garlic
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• Salt
• Peppercorns

Begin by cleaning the squid: carefully separate the heads with their tentacles, then remove the guts, setting aside the ink sacks (be careful not to break them). Wash the squid well under cold water, dice the bodies, and chop the tentacles.

Heat the oil in a pot and wilt the garlic without letting it brown. Add the squid, the minced parsley, and a generous dusting of freshly ground pepper. Cover and simmer over low heat for about 45 minutes, checking every now and then to make sure it's not sticking (if it does add a little hot water). Once it has simmered, mix the tomato sauce or paste with the white wine and add it to the pot. Simmer for 20 minutes more, uncovered, then dilute the sauce with a little hot water and simmer for a half hour more, covered. At this point the sauce should be neither soupy nor too dry.

Half an hour before mealtime bring 3 quarts of water to a boil, salt them, and add the pasta. At the same time stir the squid ink into the sauce, adding the amount that suits your taste. Drain the pasta, season it with the sauce, and serve. The wine? The remainder of the white you used in cooking it.

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Thanks for visiting, and have a wonderful day!
Kyle Phillips

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