Cosa Bolle in Pentola? The New Tuscan Vintages and Where they're
Headed, Jota, a Cold Snap & More
Being the 78th issue of Cosa Bolle in Pentola, your Italian Cuisine
newsletter.
Jota
Last week's feature was dedicated to Strudel,
the classic Viennese pastry that's also quite popular in Friuli, a section of
Italy that was under the Austrians for many years, and its variant, Strucolo,
which is a dough rolled thicker than one rolls for strudel, spread with a
topping that can be either sweet or savory, rolled up, and boiled; it's served
as either first course or dessert.
In addition to strucolo, Friuli offers a number of other unusual dishes
that simply don't exist outside the region. In the past I've mentioned
brovada, pickled turnips, and when I was in
Gorizia for Vigneto Friuli (a wine show) this fall I asked for local cuisine at
a restaurant. The waitress sized me up, and then suggested Jota. "What is it?"
I asked. "Bean and barley soup with sauerkraut," came the answer, and I tried
it. The contrast between the sweetness of the beans and the sourness of the
cabbage is extremely interesting, and the texture is pleasing; I liked it
though it is a little odd if one is used to the simple pasta e fagioli made in
Tuscany (see below for a recipe link). It also provides another example of how
variable Italian cooking can be; Patrizia Stekar, who makes white wines at
Castello di Spessa, which is also a
pretty agriturismo, told me that Jota is originally from the Trieste area,
where it's made with beans and sauerkraut. In Gorizia, a half hour's drive to
the northwest, they add barley to the mix. In Cormons, about 10 minutes west of
Gorizia, they use brovada rather than sauerkraut, and her husband says that in
his hometown, just a few miles west of Cormons, it's completely unknown.
A recipe? Actually, a bit more. Cesare Fonda gives a very interesting
discussion of Jota in Cucina Carsolina, his book on the cooking of the
Karst plains, a region that's now in part Italy, and in part Slovenia. It is
alas too long to include here, though you will find it on the site. We do have space for the recipes, however.
He presents two; the basic one calls for:
A heaping cup of beans soaked in cold water for at least 6 hours
2 cloves garlic, crushed and peeled
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon minced onion (optional)
1 tablespoon flour
2 cups sauerkraut
Boil the beans in water with the garlic, salting them only after an
hour. When they have become soft, sauté the flour until golden in the
oil with the onion if you want it, and stir it into the beans. Remove and
discard the garlic, stir in the sauerkraut, mix, simmer for 10 more minutes,
and check seasoning.
1/2 pound dried borlotti (cranberry beans), soaked for at least 6
hours in cold water and drained
A scant cup pearl barley, soaked in cold water for a couple of hours
and drained
Another tablespoon rendered lard
1 tablespoon flour
2 cups sauerkraut
Put the first tablespoon of lard in a pot and sauté the garlic in
it. As soon as it colors, add 2 quarts of water, the beans, the bay leaves and
the pork; season to taste with salt and add the barley after 45 minutes. When
the beans are done, sauté the flour in the second tablespoon of lard
until golden; stir it into the soup, add the sauerkraut, and mix well. Cook at
a barest simmer for 10-15 more minutes, then remove the pot from the fire and
check seasoning, adding a grating of fresh pepper as well.
One can obtain a richer soup by cooking pork with the beans rather than
the smoked pork listed above. For example a ham bone, some pork shoulder but,
or a thick slice of pancetta. Another way to enrich it is to cook either
luganeghe or home-made sausages with the sauerkraut, and add them with the
cabbage. In any case, this is a soup that's better warm than steaming, and
improves with age, being better a day or two after it's made.
If you instead would like to make it with potatoes, keep in mind that it
should be served straight off, rather than be made a day ahead. To make white
jota, replace the beans with diced potatoes, and the bay leaves with a few
celery leaves; add the cabbage immediately and simmer everything together 20-25
minutes, then check seasoning and give it a healthy grating of black pepper.
To make jota with potatoes, reduce the cabbage and barley by half (full
ration beans) and stir in two diced potatoes when you add the sautéed
flour mixture.
Drain the beans and put them in a large pot with the water, milk, lard,
pork rinds, carrot, onion, and celery. Bring to a boil, cover, and simmer for a
couple of hours. Remember to salt the beans just before you turn off the flame.
While they're cooking, heat the butter in a second pot and stir in the
flour, and as soon as it begins to color add the brovada, sprinkle it with the
cumin, add the wine and a cup of water, and simmer the mixture for an hour or
even more.
Reheat the beans, and as soon as they're warm add the brovada and sift
in the cornmeal while stirring constantly. Don't let it cook for more that 20
minutes, or it would thicken too much. While it's cooking, sauté the
remaining ingredients in a small pot, then stir them into the brovada and bring
it to the table.
A wine to serve with these? Ribolla Gialla, a Friulian white, goes quite
well.
Now all we need is a recipe for the capuzi garbi, or sauerkraut. Mr.
Fontana notes that though one normally associates pickled cabbage with Germany,
it's also common in a great swath that extends across Friuli and down into the
Balkans. His instructions:
2 1/4 pounds (1 k) sauerkraut (commercially prepared will do)
A heaping tablespoon rendered lard
1 tablespoon minced onion or 2 cloves garlic, minced, or both
1 tablespoon flour
Salt and pepper
A splash of white wine (optional)
Rinse the sauerkraut, squeeze out excess moisture, put them in a pot,
and add just enough unsalted water to cover, and then simmer them for about 20
minutes. In another pot sauté the onion or garlic and flour in the fat,
and when they have colored add the sauerkraut, draining it well. Salt lightly,
give a healthy grating of pepper, and simmer for a couple of hours, covered,
stirring often and adding water as need be to keep them from drying out. When
they're a pretty amber they're ready.
Mr. Pradelli instead tells how to prepare capuzi garbi from scratch.
You'll need:
Savoy cabbage
Juniper berries
Coriander seeds
Coarse sea salt or kosher salt
Thinly slice the cabbage and put the slices in a ceramic jar or barrel,
salting the layers and sprinkling them with coriander seeds and juniper berries
9go easy on the latter because they're flavorful0. When all is used up put a
wooden disk over them, set a weight on it, and let the cabbage sit for a month,
during which time they will ferment.
What to do with capuzi garbi other than jota? Here's an idea that goes
quite well with roasts or boiled meats:
2 1/4 pounds (1 k) sauerkraut
A ham bone, fresh or smoked
A bay leaf
1/3 cup olive oil
An onion, minced
1 heaping tablespoon flour
Salt and pepper
Rinse the cabbage and put it in a pot with the bone and the bay leaf,
adding cold water to cover, and bring the mixture to a simmer. In the meantime,
sauté the onion in the oil, and as soon as it wilts stir in the flour;
stir the mixture until it browns. Drain the sauerkraut, stir it into the flour
and onion mixture, check seasoning, and serve.
Moving in a different culinary direction, I recently spotlighted a
Tuscan recipe for acquacotta, literally cooked
water, the hearty peasant soup that farmhands would eat while out in the fields
in the Maremma, a wild section of Tuscany southwest of Siena that extends to
the coast and down into Lazio as well. It's one of those recipes with a great
many variations, and Assuntina, who runs Monti della Tolfa, a neat agriturismo
on a beautiful estate south of Rome that offers all sorts of activities, kindly
shared her recipe:
Chop the pork fat very finely, dice all the vegetables, crush the
garlic.
Put the pork fat, olive oil, onion, garlic and chili in a large pot and
cook over a medium flame till the onions are cooked. Then add all the
vegetables and about a litre of water. Bring to boil and then simmer till
vegetables are cooked (approx 30 minutes).
Variation: Once the soup is nearly cooked, crack an egg over it and
allow the egg to cook.
To serve, place 2-3 day old bread in bottom of your soup bowls and ladle
the soup over them. You can also add a splash of olive oil and more chili to
taste.
And abandoning food altogether, last week I attended the presentations
of the latest vintages of Chianti Classico, Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, and
Brunello di Montalcino. Quite interesting, especially the first morning, during
which the Chianti Classico Consorzio presented barrel samples of the 2,000
vintage to give journalists an idea of what the future might hold. I say might
because barrel samples as a whole are merely indicative of a wine's potential
(the bouquet develops in the reducing environment of the bottle, where the wine
also, ideally, gains elegance and balance with time), and this is especially
true if the wine is newly fermented and is only just beginning its time in
wood. Therefore the wines themselves weren't that interesting as other than
curiosities, but the selection of wines presented was. The rules of Chianti
Classico production were recently modified to allow an increased use of foreign
varietals such as Cabernet, Merlot, or Syrah (from 15 to 20%) because many
producers like to include these grapes in their wines to give them a more
international feel. This year, all but one of the wines presented were made
entirely from local grapes -- many 100% Sangiovese (Tuscany's great red grape),
and some with Canaiuolo, the grape Bettino Ricasoli used to tame Sangiovese
when he developed the formula for Chianti in the mid-1800s, or with other
almost forgotten complementary grapes that people used in the past to add color
or grace, for example Colorino (which gives color). And we were told that
there's a push to reduce the use of oak in aging, because excessive wood
overpowers the nuances of the grapes.
Granted, we only tasted a dozen samples, but if the Consorzio adopts
this strategy and begins working behind the scenes to persuade producers to
make their Chianti Classico only from local grapes while putting their
Cabernet, Merlot, and whatever else into Supertuscan table wines, this will be
tremendously beneficial in the long run. Why? Because Sangiovese is a
temperamental grape, and though it has been planted elsewhere with satisfactory
results, to date it has only done _really_ well in central Italy; a good
traditional Chianti Classico made from Sangiovese and other local grapes is
unique and can't be copied by Sangiovese producers in other parts of the world
whose lower production costs would allow them to undersell Chianti producers. A
heavily oaked Cabernet-laden Chianti Classico is much less distinctive, and
could consequently be copied fairly easily. Considering the globalization of
the wine world, having something unique will mean the difference between
success and failure.
The Nobile di Montepulciano presentation was pleasant, with interesting
wines, though fewer considerations to be made. The vintage is 1998, which is
frankly inferior to 1997; taken as a whole the wines are lighter, with less
fruit and less concentration. Why buy them, when one can still find 97s, and
the 99 vintage, which is better than the 98, will be with us in a year's time?
Because, to the contrary of great vintages, which have enough body, structure,
fruit, and concentration that one has to plan the menu with them in mind lest
they overpower the food (assuming the vintage isn't so great that one decides
to enjoy the wine far from the distractions of the table, which is why great
wines are also called "meditation wines"), lesser vintages are adaptable and
approachable; if I were having a nice meatloaf or grilling a chicken I wouldn't
hesitate to break out a 98 Vino Nobile, but I'd think twice about opening a 97.
With it, I'd want something more, say a Fiorentina (a porterhouse steak,
grilled over the coals and rare), or perhaps a roast leg of lamb. Assuming I
didn't decide to meditate over it with friends.
The Brunello di Montepulciano was the 96 vintage, and it again invites
some considerations: It will likely be the last of its kind. Why? Because
they've changed the rules; up until 1998 Brunello had to spend 4 years in oak
barrels or casks before it could be bottled, and though this helped great
vintages mature, it was too much for lesser vintages -- too much time in wood
tends to dry out the fruit, producing a rather strident wine that feels thin
and overly tannic. There are of course producers who manage to shine even in
the face of adversity, and some others fleshed out their wines by adding some
of the 1997 vintage to them (this is allowed), but for many Brunello producers
1996 was a decidedly lesser year. With 1997, which was a great vintage, four
years in oak won't be a problem, and beginning with the 98 vintage the wood
requirement will be a minimum of two years, after which the producer can bottle
the wine (total aging time is still 4 years). Lesser vintages will still be
lighter than the great vintages, but with luck they won't have that stridency
to them. What about the 99 Rosso di Montalcino (Brunello's little brother)?
Quite nice, and augurs well for the 99 Brunello vintage.
A Cold Snap
Winding down, a couple of quick things. First of all, up until last week
we had been in the grips of spring, with daffodils and crocuses coming up and
all the flowering trees in bloom; the meteorologists and climatologists were
all saying that the calendar had skipped ahead a month, and people were putting
away their winter coats. This week, however, winter came rumbling back, putting
all of central and northern Italy under a thick layer of snow. Highway
transportation has ground to a halt (in part because Southern France has also
been hit), and though today the skies are clear in Florence, more is forecast
for tomorrow. No news yet about damage to agriculture, but with the trees
already in bloom there will certainly be some effects.
Ecstacy is not Ecstatic
And finally, I've occasionally commented on drug
legalization/decriminalization in the past, and been told to stick to food.
Well, this week's case report in the New England Journal of Medicine discusses
a 17 year old girl hospitalized for jaundice and progressive liver dysfunction;
after ruling out the obvious things such as hepatitis and deciding that her
episodes of binge drinking (in a 17 year old -- where were her parents?) were
insufficient to explain the problem, they sat her down and asked her what else
she was doing. Turns out she was taking ecstasy (a designer drug common in
discos, at least in Italy) on a regular basis; one of the drug's possible side
effects is fulminant liver disease of a kind that can precipitate suddenly,
with the options being a transplant or a funeral. She has, they say, stopped
taking the drug and thanks to the treatments does feel better, but she's not
out of the woods and may never be. At age 17. Something to think about, and yet
another reason to stay away from ecstasy.
This week's proverb is Ligurian: Travaggiae mentre o potron dorme,
che gh'aviei do gran per voî, e da vendighe a lê. Work while
the sluggard sleeps; you'll have enough grain to meet your own needs and sell
to him.
A presto, Kyle Phillips Webweaver, About Italian Cuisine
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