Friday, January 9, 2009

Goodfood in Italy Part 7: The best coffee in Italy




Espresso Love near The Pantheon

"Where do you get the best espresso in New York City ? The answer is, you don't. You catch a flight to Rome, and once there, tell the cabbie at the airport to go straight to Sant Eustachio Caffe, near the Pantheon ..."
William Grimes, former food critic, New York Times

I had many espressos during my two weeks in Italy in many different cafes. Make that many, many espressos. They were always very good. Often they were excellent. But nowhere was it as good as at Sant Eustachio Il Caffe in Rome, just a block away from The Pantheon, where I went pretty much straight from the airport.



I as hit by a blast of aroma as soon as I entered. The cafe was jammed with people and I had not yet mastered all the techniques outlined in my previous post , so it was a bit of struggle to get my espresso at first.
But was it worth it, oh boy. I had to scoop out the head with a spoon, it was so thick. The body was rich, aromatic, velvety, sweet without any sugar, creamy without any cream. The aftertaste deep and lingering. A shot, a moment's ecstacy, a delicious jolt and a nuclear-powered, invincible, indescribable feeling. Delicizo.

Most coffee connoisseurs ( and there are many in Italy) rate this the best coffee in Rome, possibly in Italy. The formula for Sant Eustachio's Grancaffe is such a secret that the Barista performs the operation behind a partition.

Sant' Eustachio il Caffe
Piazza Di S. Eustachio
00186 Roma (RM),
Italy
Ph: +39 06 68802048

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Goodfood in Italy series so far
How to drink espresso
Piazza Del Campo at night
The Colours of Siena
Chef Vincenzo's Ragu Bolognese
Positano, Amalfi coast and John Steinbeck
Making Limoncello in Positano

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Goodfood in Italy Part 6: How to drink espresso

How to drink an espresso in an Italian coffee bar



A step-by step guide.
1. Saunter into a Cafe and walk over to the smartly dressed lady at the cash counter.
2. Make eye contact, trot out your 'Buongiorno' and say " Un espresso" in your best Italian accent, with an extended, almost musical emphasis on the 'sso', like in ss- ssso. This takes some practice, but you will get the rhythm of it soon enough if, like me, you drink enough espressos in day.

3. You will then be expected to put your payment - usually about 85 cents- on a small tray next to the cash machine, as the lady prints out your receipt.
4. If you are lucky , she might actually give you a smile and hold out two upturned palms for the payment. If you are feeling really Italian, hold her hand gently,
linger for a brief moment and place the coins in her palm.
You might like to add a 'Prego' almost in an undertone, sotto voce.


5. Don't overdo it though. Take your change and receipt, say your 'Grazie' and belly up to the bar.
6. If it is a popular cafe, the bar will be crowded and there will usually be a bit of gentle jostling , so you need to master the technique of angling for a good position and attracting the Barista's attention. If you have had enough practice getting a drink in a New York City bar or a London pub, you should do ok.


7. Order your espresso ( don't forget the emphasis on the 'ss- sso'). DO NOT SIT DOWN
8. The Barista will pull the drink from one of those glorious-looking coffee machines into a demitasse cup and push it towards you on a little saucer with a tiny spoon placed jauntily at an angle.
9. Lean sideways on the counter with an air of nonchalance as if you've been doing this all your life, your sunglasses dangling from your shirt pocket, and drink your espresso shot in one gulp. Use the spoon to scoop out the thick and delicious dregs at the bottom.


10. Then walk out into the sunshine, fuelled and caffeinated, ready to meet any challenge the world throws at you.

Goodfood in Italy series so far
Piazza Del Campo at night
The Colours of Siena
Chef Vincenzo's Ragu Bolognese
Positano, Amalfi coast and John Steinbeck
Making Limoncello in Positano

Saturday, January 3, 2009

Goodfood in Italy Part 5: Piazza Del Campo at night


"I want to arrive in Siena at night, penniless and alone,
sleep next to some wellspring and be the first to enter
Piazza Del Campo in the morning"
Albert Camus


I did not manage to be the first to enter Il Campo in the morning,
but to Albert Camus I ask:
Have you walked round and round the Il Campo late on
a January night when the tourists are all gone save for a
couple kissing under the Tower, the cold air throbbing in
your brain, the grand intimacy of the majestic piazza
breaking your heart,
when you cared a damn,
and came dangerously close to burning out the candle ?





And did you soon realise that it was a momentary lapse,
that it was the Vin Santo you had with your dinner that
was muddling your brain, that it was probably indigestion
from all the pasta that was stirring your heart, and that
like a good Bengali boy you had to go to bed, because,
son, it is late and it is cold.

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
ché la diritta via era smarrita.
Midway upon the journey of life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward path had been lost
Dante, Inferno



***********************************
Goodfood in Italy series so far
Piazza Del Campo at night
The Colours of Siena
Chef Vincenzo's Ragu Bolognese
Positano, Amalfi coast and John Steinbeck
Making Limoncello in Positano

Goodfood in Italy Part 4: Colours of Siena

The story of Burnt Siena, changing light and colourful surprises


I was fascinated with the colours in this beautifully preserved
medieval town, as I roamed its red brick streets from morning
till night, fuelled by countless espressos.

Every shade of brown in the Crayola handbook are represented in
the historic Centro. Burnt Siena of course, and brown and sand and
rust and chestnut and reddish-brown and yellow-brown and sepia
and mahogany and ochre. What did I miss ?

Just look at the doors for example. Iron, wood, brass.
Brown, black, ochre. Inviting, forbidding, sombre, majestic.
Doors like these in every corner, most going back many
hundreds of years.


Red brick walls in twilight, lined with potted geraniums and more


And yellow and light brown walls with green shutters


And the sudden delightful bursts of brightness


Colours of everyday life in this Tuscan town

Thousand year old streets lined with buildings that
look warmer as the day progresses


And are simply beguiling at night

Watch the slideshow

" Siena's ancient buildings, timeless dwellings where I would love to
live one day with a window of my own overlooking the clay tiles and
the green shutters, I try vainly to understand wherein lies the secret
that Siena whispers and rings on and on in my ears as long as I shall live"
Jose Saramago
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Goodfood in Italy series so far

Friday, January 2, 2009

Goodfood in Italy Part 3: Chef Vincenzo's Ragu Bolognese



I was doing an apprenticeship of sorts in Chef Vincenzo's kitchen at Ristoranti Mediterraneo in Positano, as part of my Positano cooking holiday with Cooking Vacations

Apart from peeling mounds of garlic and cleaning loads of shrimp, I also learnt a few dishes from scratch. But more importantly, I picked up lots of tricks of the trade. The flavours, the colours, the smell, the sounds and the look of a dish.

Here's something Chef Vincenzo showed me that's probably the soul of Italian cooking: the basic Bolognese ragu. I've done this a few times at home before, with mixed results. I usually follow Bill Buford's highly entertaining account of learning Tuscan 'renaissance' ragu from Dario Cecchini



Chef Vincenzo followed more or less the same method. Use onions, carrots and celery as the base, add a few sprigs of bay leaf and sweat them in olive oil, add minced beef and stir stir stir till dry and gravelly, add red wine and let the wine evaporate, stir stir stir still dryish again, add tomatoes, season and simmer till reduced to the consistency you want, which should ideally be thickish, semi-dry and reddish-brown. Before tossing into the pasta, heat with a few drops of olive oil and perhaps a pinch of tomato sauce.
The secret of how long you simmer depends on your ingredients, your mood, which region of Italy you come from, which wine you have used, what you feel is the right consistency, and what to do if the consistency is not right. Whatever you do, DO NOT argue with an Italian when he tells you that his mama's ragu is the best.
Watch the slideshow

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Goodfood in Italy series so far

Goodfood in Italy Part 2: Positano, Amalfi coast and Steinbeck

Life in the very slow lane. For a very few days

"It bites deep. It is a dream place that isn't quite real when
you are there and becomes beckoningly real after you have gone."
John Steinbeck on Positano


The blue blue waters of the Bay of Naples with the islands
of Capri and Ischia in the distance, the vertical city where you
can only go up or down, Saracen inspired domes,
pastel houses clinging miraculously to the cliffs that go
right down to the ocean. Does a picture postcard have a soul ?



The spectacular drive along the Amalfi coast. Twisting,
turning, zigging and zagging, hairpin-bend loaded highway
hugging the clifftops and overlooking the Bay of Naples.
Where do we go from here ?


The terrace at Residence Alcione, from where it is easy
to imagine the world as your oyster. Happy or sad, illusion
is your friend.



Assortment of freshly baked, warm, fragrant pastries
for breakfast, Rigatoni with sausage and meatballs at
Le Tre Sorelle on the beach, and Chef Vincenzo's
creations: Vermicelli with Clams, and Octopus Salad
with a squeeze of lime at Ristoranti Mediterraneo.
Mamma Mia.


As evening falls

"Know that you aren't alone
The whole world shares your tears,
Some for two nights or one,
And some for all their years."
Vikram Seth


Others in 'Goodfood in Italy' series so far
Making Limoncello in Positano
Chef Vincenzo's Ragu Bolonese


Thursday, January 1, 2009

Goodfood in Italy Part 1: Making Limoncello in Positano

LOST IN LIMONCELLO


"The first shot feels so goood in the mouth, the second one
goes down sooo easily, and then you have the third, and
Mamma Mia ... you burn ..." said my new friend Lorenzo
about drinking Limoncello, the favourite liqueur of
the Amalfi coast.

Having lost an afternoon ito Limoncello earlier, I knew
only too well what he was talking about. And I was delighted
when Chef Vincenzo offered to teach me to make this
sweet and lethal drink.


We started with 1 kg of the finest Sorrentine lemons.
These babies are bigger
than tennis balls, fragrant and delicious,
and only found on the Amalfi coast.


Chef and I skinned them, taking care
to leave out the bitter white parts,
put the skins in a glass jar and
added 1 litre of pure alcohol (95% strength).
Almost immediately the colourless alcohol
started turning lemony.

Ideally the skins should steep in the
alcohol for 10 days. We didn't have
10 days so after 24 hours we
strained the liquid ( which by now was dark
lemon-yellow) into a large pot.
Separately we had boiled 1 kg sugar in 1.3 litre water
(note the proportions or you risk death) and cooled it down.
Now we mixed the lemon-alcohol mixture and the sugar-water,
and ended up with a light lemony liquid.
All that was left to do was bottle it using a funnel
( for some reason the shape of the funnel caused
a lot of laughter among the Italians in the kitchen)
And with that ladies and gentlemen, we ended up with
a 2 litre bottle of limoncello of about 45% strength. Part
of this bottle is coming home with me to Hong Kong,
assuming the Customs guys don't take a dim view.




Grazie Grazie to Chef Vincenzo and Lorenzo of
Ristoranti Mediterraneo, Positano. Salute !