carolegbert

Mozzarella Torte – Cheese Maker in Sicily

2010-03-11T06:37:22Z

When I was shopping in the market on Friday, I bought a chunk of flavorful, slightly aged provolone at the stall that also sells fresh mozzarella, ricotta, cannoli, ricotta salata and other cheeses that I look forward to being introduced to. Gaetano, the man behind the counter with a scruffy beard and fairly good English, saw me looking at the cauldrons in the small, utilitarian workroom behind the counter.

He explained that most mornings, he and his father Andrea Borderi, the man with the blue silk tie, the sunny smile and the big knife, made ricotta and mozzarella.

I hesitated for less than a minute before I asked if I could watch the next time they made cheese. He frowned, shook his head and said “No,” and then with a smile he said, “Ma (but), you can come and work if you come at seven on lunedi.” I said yes, of course, I would come. A quick check in the Italian/English dictionary confirmed that I had a date for Monday morning at seven.

I started the day by watching the sunrise over the sea. The colors would have inspired Maxfield Parish. Then, Charles and I had to hurry across the empty Piazza Duomo to the cheese shop. We were greeted with smiles, and with a sweep of his arm, Andre invited us into his kitchen. He quickly looped an apron over my head and tied it around my waist. Charles stepped back from the action, camera poised so as not to miss a shot. I washed my hands and was ready to work.

My first task was to help with the caldron of ricotta. We used ladles to skim the warm curds into slotted, one liter, plastic containers that were then put on trays. When full, the trays were put into the refrigerator. When ricotta is sold, the slotted container is put into a double plastic bag and the whey continues to drain from the curd making it thicker each day until it has all been eaten.

The curds for the mozzarella had been started before we arrived. Whole milk and rennet had been mixed in a huge stainless steel pot and then heated slowly until it reached 32 degrees centigrade or 88 degrees Fahrenheit. It took about 15 minutes for the curd to form. The curd was in a bucket, a dense mass covered with whey. It was large as a watermelon with texture similar to raw liver. Andrea handed me a knife with a blade that was at least two feet long. To cut the curd, I held the knife with its blunt tip resting on bottom of the pail and pulled the blade through the curd again and again. When it had been to cut it into irregular pieces that were about the size of walnuts, it was drained and put into a large basin.

Andrea asked me to knead ottocento (800) grams of sea salt into it.

When he decided that it had been sufficiently kneaded, the curds were rinsed with water until his taste test determined that enough salt had been washed away.

The next step involved stretching and shaping. The curd was covered with very, hot water and I was given a three-foot long wooden tool. I mistakenly thought that what looked like the handle was a handle.

After Andrea turned it around, he placed my hands on it, put is hands over mine and together we stretched and squeeze the curd until “Ecco!” The curd had become stringy, tender, fresh mozzarella.

With amazing speed and skill Andrea stretched, cut and braided cheese to form ten braided loaves called treccia. It would be smoked later that morning and offered for sale as affumicata the following day.

Then he pulled a coconut-sized piece of cheese from the mass still in the basin and indicated that I should flatten it into a disc as thin as I could manage. My memory of Lucy and Ethel trying to twirl pizza dough in the air provided the restraint that kept me from trying to do the same thing with this piece of cheese.

I patted, poked and pulled it until Andrea indicated with a quick nod that it was a good size.

I followed him and the cheese to the large cutting board where he handed me two tomatoes, a handful of mixed olives, a few sprigs of flat-leaf parsley and a knife longer than my arm. He covered the cheese disc with two thin slices of ham, used signs and smiles to indicate that I should cut the tomatoes, seed and chop the olives, chop the parsley and put it all on top of the ham.

When I had finished, he splashed it with olive oil, and it took four hands, his and mine, to lift the cheese and its toppings onto a large piece of foil. The last step was for me to tightly roll the cheese into a cylinder with the ham and vegetables inside. That done, he put the cheese roll in a bag and gave it to me.

I shared it and the story of its creation with two new friends who came to our first dinner party in Sicily.

If you would like to recreate the tastes without the travel you could make a mozzarella torte by layering the freshest mozzarella you can find, with the tastiest bits of vegetable and/or cured meat you can imagine, in a straight-sided bowl. Covered, weighed down and chilled it will be perfect served with a smile and a toast to Andrea, THE premier cheese artisan of Siracusa.Note: There is a print link embedded within this post, please visit this post to print it.

Market Patchwork – Ortigia – Siracusa – Sicilia

2010-03-06T15:08:27Z

I wanted to share this market patch work.

A feast for your eyes with love from me to you.

Carol

Ricotta Burger a REAL Cheese Burger

2010-03-05T06:43:14Z

Beef, chicken and pork seem to have disappeared from my pantry. The market in Sicily is filled with fish, fruit, vegetables and cheese. There are stores that are more similar to American grocery stores where virtually everything is wrapped in plastic including cuts of beef, pork and chiken; but, none of it appeals to me.

The only role an animal has in my diet is to provide milk that is the decorative element that tops my cappuccino.

Or the liquid that is magically transformed into an extraordinary variety of fresh and aged cheeses.

I remembered hearing about using ricotta to make a cheese burger and so decided to give it a try. It was quite simple to do. I put the usual burger toppers, lettuce and tomato, under it added a few olives, and skipped the sesame seed roll and mayo. Here’s how I did it:

Ricotta Burger – a real cheese burger!

I began by putting two cups of fresh, whole milk ricotta into a mesh strainer lined with two layers of white paper towel to drain. Then I diced half an onion and sauteed it in olive oil until it was soft and began to brown.

I put the drained ricotta into a bowl and added one beaten egg, half a cup of bread crumbs, a pinch or oregano, a pinch of dried red pepper flakes and a handful of chopped flat leaf parsley. I formed the mixture into six small patties and fried them in two tablespoons of olive oil until they were brown.

I made a salad of lettuce, tomato, cucmber and a few olives, put the cheese burgers on top and lunch was ready.

Ricotta Burger List

onion
olive oil
one egg
bread crumbs
oregano
dried red pepper flakes
flat leaf parsley
lettuce
tomato
cucmber
olives

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Swordfish – Ortigia Market Dinner

2010-03-02T11:24:52Z

Most mornings I walk to the open-air market with no idea of what I will buy. The fresh vegetable stalls are piled high with white and purple cauliflower, broccoli, plum tomatoes still attached to vines, fluted heirloom tomatoes, zucchini, fennel, potatoes, carrots, onions and eggplant all carefully arranged to form a patchwork of colors.

There are leafy greens that I can’t identify near the familiar bunches of parsley, mint and basil. I bought a few small potatoes, one zucchini, and bunches of parsley and mint from the vendor who waited patiently as I figured out the correct combination of coins to pay him.

The fruit stalls are filled with citrus – blood oranges, mandarins, ordinary lemons and two-fisted, lumpy Sicilian lemons. One stall had five small containers of wild strawberries. They were three times as expensive as the more familiar cultivated ones but I couldn’t resist the extravagance.

The fish section of the market is the most lively.

The loud calls of men selling fish and seafood fill the air with promises and banter that I don’t understand.

The metal tables are filled with squid, cuttlefish, three kinds of shrimp, cockles, mussels, sea urchin, octopus, fish filets, mustard-yellow dotted eels, small pink fish, and silver striped black striped fish. A large piece of fish ready to be sliced into steaks sat beside the up-ended head of the swordfish it came from. I decided on swordfish for dinner because it would be the simplest to cook. I used my fingers to indicate that I wanted a one-inch thick steak. I’ll deal with boning, skinning, filleting and cleaning the less familiar fish another day.

The vendors who sell ripe and green, brine and oil cured olives, also sell heads of garlic, and capers and anchovies preserved in salt.

A spatula that looks like a putty knife sat on a large platter next to a mound of tomato paste made from sun dried tomatoes. I bought an herb blend marked Herba Tipico Siciliano and a small quantity of salted capers to experiment with.

The smoky smell of peppers and onions roasting on a small charcoal grill at the end of the lane perfumed the air. This was the only stall where a woman was working. Her husband was in charge of roasting and negotiating sales and her role was limited to wrapping a pepper after I had paid for it.

The cheese man tempts every passer-by with a sample. He reaches across the cheese case to offer samples of smoked mozzarella or provolone on the tip of his huge knife. When I pointed at the creamy cheese studded with red peppers, he used that same knife to create an instant sandwich with the cheese, bits of sun-dried tomatoes in olive oil and a crust of ciabatta bread. His smile was at least as sweet as the cannoli I bought from him for our dessert.

My heavy market bag made it easy to resist stopping at the stalls with almonds and walnuts, blocks of almond paste, dates, dried fruit and chocolate bars from Modica that are seasoned with black pepper, ginger, orange or chili. I considered menu possibilities as I walked home until I was distracted by a young girl trying to perfect her skating technique in the Plaza Doumo. By the time I finished unpacking the groceries, I had decided to marinate the swordfish and then bake it. Parsley would flavor a mixture of vegetables, and the wild strawberries would top the already perfect canolli. Dinner was meraviglioso! Here’s how I did it:

Lemon Swordfish/Pescespada Limone

For the marinade, I combined two teaspoons of lemon zest from the lumpy Sicilian lemon, with a tablespoon of lemon juice, a tablespoon of olive oil and a generous grind of black pepper. I covered both sides of the swordfish with the marinade and left it for half an hour while I prepared the vegetables and pre-heated the oven to 400 degrees.

I baked the fish for approximately 12 minutes, until it flaked easily with the tip of my knife. Fish continues to cook after it is taken out of the oven so it is important not to overcook it. I topped each serving with a tablespoon of freshly squeezed blood orange juice.

Vegetable Medley/Verdura Mescolanza

I cut two medium potatoes in quarters and parboiled them in salted water. While they cooked, I julienned two medium carrots and one zucchini. When the potatoes were nearly tender, I added the carrot pieces to the pot, and cooked them for another minute.

I melted a tablespoon of butter with a teaspoon olive oil in a frying pan and added the drained potatoes and carrots and the uncooked zucchini to the pan. When the potatoes had begun to brown and the zucchini was tender I added six small whole tomatoes and a handful of parsley leaves. In a couple of minutes the tomatoes were heated through and the parsley had imparted its flavor and dinner was ready.

The cannoli, cut in half and garnished with wild strawberries, followed the main course after a reasonable interval.

Swordfish List

lemon
olive oil
black pepper
orange juice

Vegetable Medley List

potatoes
carrots
zucchini
butter
olive oil
tomatoes
parsley leaves

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Swordfish Carpaccio

2010-02-27T14:49:08Z

I bought 300 g, a bit more than a quarter of a pound, of fresh swordfish at the market and brought it home is an insulated lunch bag that was extra cold because I remembered to freeze the insert that came with the bag and then to take it all to the market.

Our refrigerator is tiny, and I am trying to be mindful and use every bit of food I have before it gets green and fuzzy with mold. Everything is wrapped in either paper or a white plastic bag and that means that I frequently unwrap and rewrap the same leftover more than once. I have augmented the minimun number of bowls and containers by re-cycling the blue and green plastic cups from the gelateria and four of them where filled with the remainder of a steamed potatoes aand carrots from our first dinner party and there were also bits of mushroom salad and artichoke salad.

I thought that swordfish carpaccio would pull all of the odd bits of food together. When we had finished lunched and washed up there were fewer packages in the fridge and more empty small bowls in the cuppboard. Lunch was a culinary success, a successful use of leftovers and certainly a dietary success. We ate a small amount of swordfish seasoned with lemon and olive oil and lots of vegetables. The carpaccio was a breeze to make. Here’s how I did it:

Swordfish Carpaccio

I put the swordfish in the freezer for twenty minutes while I prepared a simple maninade that consisted of equal amounts of lemon juice, olive oil and capers, about a tablespoon of each, a pinch of oregano and a pinch of dried chili flakes, one scallion thinly sliced, a handful of chopped fresh parsley leaves and a grind of black pepper. I cut the fish into thin pieces and stirred it into the marinade. After thirty minutes in the fridge, it was ready. I served it with the potatoes and carrots that had been warmed to room temperature by the sun, a couple of small plum tomatoes and a bowl of simple Italian cracker. It was a perfect lunch to eat as we watched the boats sailing by. (Sorry to add that last line but it’s true, Charles and I can see the sail boats in the Mediterranean from our table.)

Swordfish Carpaccio LIst

swordfish
lemon
olive oil
capers
oregano
dried red chili flakes
parsley
scallion
black pepper

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Mouth Watering Photos from Sicily

2010-02-26T10:41:50Z

Here are a few images from my neighborhood in Siracusa.

Sunrise from the kitchen window

Yesterday, we walked around the corner and visited the Castello Maniace.

The G – 8 Conference happened in the chamber of the castle under a black and white ceiling held up by many columns.

We passed this addresses on the way home

and another.

Sorry that there is nothing to eat here. Perhaps you have a gelateria nearby?

Ciao.

Green Bean Salad with Basil and Roasted Pepper

2010-02-24T13:39:39Z

I found green beans at the market yesterday for the first time since we arrived in Siracusa.

They were thin, unblemished and tender. I decided to combine blanched green beans with fresh basil and pieces of roasted red pepper from the market. Here’s how I did it.

Green Bean Salad with Basil and Roasted Pepper

I rinsed the beans and snapped the stem ends off while I waited for a large pot of salted water to boil. I didn’t cover the pot while they cooked, at a rolling boil, until just tender, about eight minutes. I drained the beans in a colander and rinsed them with cold water to set the bright green color and to prevent them from continuing to cook.

I combined the green beans, half of a roasted pepper cut in small pieces and a handful of roughly chopped basil leaves in a serving bowl, the zest from half a lemon, a big glug of olive oil, salt and pepper. I stirred it up and served it at room temperature. I made a savory rice salad the next day with the leftover bean salad, including the puddle of olive oil in the bottom of the bowl and an equal portion of leftover rice.

Green Bean Salad List

green beans
roasted red pepper
basil
lemon
olive oil
salt & pepper
fresh basil

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Fava Beans with Olive Oil

2010-02-27T14:58:43Z

Today I bought fava beans at the market. Legend has it that fava beans saved the Sicilians from famine when all other crops had failed. There is no possibility of famine in Sicily this month but since these beans that have been eaten in the eastern Mediterranean since around 6000 BC and are in season, it seemed appropriate that I try them.

Some people believe that if one carries a fava bean, they will never be without the essentials of life. The name fava comes from the Latin fabe, the word that means bean. Fava beans may also be called broad beans, pigeon beans, horse beans, and Windsor beans.

The vegetable vendor explained with a mixture of Italian, Sicilian and sign language how to separate the beans from the pods. First, the five or six fava beans must be taken out of the pale green outer pod that looks like an overgrown green bean, and then, before it can be eaten, each bean must be stripped of the thick, tough skin that encloses it.

All of the shelling can be done by the cook, or the shelled beans can be left inside the skin, sautéed in olive oil with or without garlic, salt and pepper, and served – leaving the task of popping the beans from their skins to each diner.

I opted for the easiest preparation of all. I held each pod in the fire of the kitchen cook top until I could see steam puffing out of the pod. When I had cooked a few pods, I poured olive oil onto a small plate, ground salt and pepper into it and proceeded to pop the beans out of the pod. I put them into the oil and ate them, using my teeth to separate each bean from its wrapper.

I don’t know if it was the fava beans, the fava bean pod or something else that made me feel unsteady on my feet and my lips tingly. It took a walk, half a liter of water and a dish of gelato to set me right.

Although the fava beans had a mild and pleasing flavor, a creamy texture and were a lovely shade of green and I think I give the rest of them away.
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Honey Strawberry Sandwich & Minted Carrot Salad

2010-02-20T13:13:25Z

Honey in the morning, honey in the evening. Honey is a staple in my Sicilian kitchen. I drizzled this light, delicately scented gift from the bees onto rustic breakfast sandwiches.

Assembly was a breeze – toasted crusty ciabatta bread + a layer of marscapone + strawberry slices + honey = sticky fingers and a delicious way to start the day.

For a simple salad to accompany pasta minted carrot salad was a perfect contrast. I put it together before I began to cook the pasta so that the dressing would wilt the carrots a bit. Here’s how I did it:

Minted Carrot Salad

I mixed together equal parts of fresh lemon juice, orange juice and olive oil, about a tablespoon of each, and a teaspoon of honey in a serving bowl. I scrubbed a couple of carrots with a vegetable brush, cut them into thin slices and added them to the dressing along with the leaves from a couple of stems of mint that I had cut into fine ribbons, a bit of lemon zest, salt and pepper to the dressing.

Carrot Salad List

lemon juice
orange juice
olive oil
honey
carrots
mint leaves
lemon zest
salt and pepper

Completo!

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Tomato Ricotta Pasta from a Sicilian Kitchen

2010-02-19T11:57:44Z

This post is out of order – I blame it on jet lag. After a long night of travel, we finally arrived in Siracusa. We took a nap only to wake up and sleep for ten hours. The following morning, we crawled out of bed into the welcoming sunshine. Charles unpacked suitcases while I checked out my Sicilian kitchen. I found a small refrigerator, a cook-top with three burners, a tiny sink and a window with a view of the blue-green Mediterranean.

There was plenty of space in the nearly empty drawers for my arsenal of can’t-cook-without-it tools I had packed. My knives, the immersion blender that also functions as a mini food processor, the coarse and fine micro planes, a scale, measuring spoons and cups, and an instant read digital thermometer made my Sicilian kitchen seem a bit more like the one I left behind in Vermont. Even with these additions, the kitchen was not as well equipped as I had hoped so we had to set out in search of other kitchen essentials including a small toaster oven.

Life in Sicily is full of serendipity and detours. Our first detour was a stop at the Caffe Minerva for a macchiato and a ricotta filled pastry. Delizioso! Our second detour involved the open-air market. It was already noon, we had slept until ten, and the vendors would be gone long before we got back from our search for the super mercato. We needed food and since all of the fresh food we eat will be from local vendors, I had to shop for food before I shopped for the tools that I would need. The vendors’ stalls line both sides of the street for two blocks along Via Benedictine. My stomach was still on Vermont time, 5 am, so I was drawn to the fruit rather than to the squid and cuttlefish.

I filled a canvas shopping bag with blood oranges, green skinned mandarines, one very large, lumpy skinned lemon, a pair of tomatoes shaped like deeply fluted pumpkins, garlic, a head of fennel and a container of olives. At the last stall, I bought a roasted red pepper from a vendor who had a small charcoal grill. He wrapped the still warm pepper in a bit of foil, and after I had paid him thirty Euro cents for it, he took the last onion from his grill, wrapped it and tucked it into my bag with a smile. After sampling the fresh mozzarella and buying a liter of fresh ricotta we were ready to go in search of the super mercato.

The third detour of the day occurred when Charles reminded me that since we didn’t have a car and we had to carrying everything we bought, we should take the food to our apartment before we tried to find the super mercato.

Our shopping bags emptied, we boarded the free public bus and confidently set off. An hour later, with a few missteps along the way and the help of three girls riding on the bus we arrived at the SUPER super mercato. It was farther than we expected and many times larger than I had imagined. It had everything I needed – staples including dried pasta, salt and pepper, olive oil, tomato paste, butter, honey and even a toaster oven!
It was raining and we were tired when we got back to our apartment. When I turned on the kitchen light and saw the olives and tomatoes on the counter, I knew that I had everything I needed to make crostini and pasta for our first meal from my Sicilian kitchen. Here’s how I did it:

Crostini with Olive Tapenade

I minced three ripe olives, two green olives and a small piece of hot chili and then combined the olives with half a teaspoon of lemon zest, half a teaspoon of lemon juice and three tablespoons of olive oil. I put the tapenade in the center of a flat bowl and surrounded it with toasted olive bread. We ate pieces of the roasted pepper and onion with the tapenade topped bread.

Tomato Ricotta Pasta

By the time we had finished our first course, the pasta water was boiling. I salted the water and stirred two servings of pasta into it. I heated my new sauté pan on a second burner and added two tablespoons of olive oil, one tablespoon of butter and one clove of garlic that I had grated with my coarse micro plane. I turned the heat to low, diced three olives and one tomato and added it all to the garlic oil along with one tablespoon of tomato paste and three tablespoons of ricotta.

When the pasta was al dente, I drained it and added it to the tomato cheese mixture. I cooked the pasta in the sauce for another minute before serving it topped with a generous tablespoon of freshly grated pecorino cheese.

Missions accomplished, dinner served. Fourth detour, we were too tired to wash up, so the dishes had to wait until morning in the small sink. We crawled into bed and the Mediterranean sang us to sleep.

With minor adjustments, this meal can be created wherever your kitchen is. Cottage cheese can be substituted for ricotta, use a canned tomato if you haven’t a fresh one, any pasta will do. If you don’t have olive oil or olives you need to find a mercato. Ciao![

Crostini List

ripe olives
green olives
chili
lemon zest
lemon juice
olive oil
bread

Pasta List

olive oil
butter
garlic
olives
tomato
tomato paste
ricotta
pecorino cheese

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