Time Out guides to Italy

Among the very best guides to Italy are the ones in the Time Out series. These are published in Britain and have up-to-date tourist-type info, but also significant cultural and historical material. All in a pleasing, well-illustrated layout. They'll run you about about 20 USD. As much as I know about Venice and the Veneto, I always like to have the latest edition of their guide for the area.

Other guides in the series covering Italy are Florence, Turin, Rome, Naples, and Milan. The guides for Venice, Florence, and Naples also cover the most noteworthy adjoining areas and towns.

Le Mani sulla citta'- Hands over the city-review

Francesco Rosi is a highly-regarded old-timer known for his movies of social and political interest. Here is one, Le mani sulla citta' (loosely translated as "hands over the city" for some reason) that I decided to watch due to the (unfortunately) timely nature of the subject matter: political/economic corruption in Naples and its human and environmental consequences.

The movie was made in 1963, and curiously, my family and I went to live in Naples in that very year. We were lucky to be in the Vomero area on the hills, but even then I was aware that there was something very, very wrong with the city. I remember telling my parents as we left in their Peugeot 404, winding through the streets, that I hoped never to return.

The little Eggplant was on to something. In forty-five years, the basic mechanisms behind the city haven't changed one whit, as shown by the film. Our own Rod Steiger (in photo) portrays a corrupt local developer who, despite the recent tragic collapse of one of his buildings, continues to wheel and deal and pull the strings of city government to get his amoral way. An excellent illustration of the way Naples is; the way Italy is. A key not only to understanding the much-maligned capital of the South, but the entire country, including that epitome of conflict of interest, Berlusconi himself.

Not an easy movie, but essential if you want to get Italy. Prepare to be amused by Steiger's Neapolitan gestures.

Here is a scene toward the beginning when Steiger/Nottola explains the 5000% profit margin to be had from developing one square meter (in Italian only).

La meglio gioventu'- The Best of youth: review

It's been almost a week since I've posted. What have I been doing? Watching movies. I finally got a Netflix subscription. Actually, I'm still on my free trial. Two days after I started, they announced unlimited online instant watching for almost all plans but the cheapest. Why didn't I get a Netflix account sooner? I don't have a TV or DVD player. I've watched everything on my laptop, including DVD's sent by snail mail. Works out fine. TV sets are soooo twentieth century.

So. One of the things that was a priority for me was this 2-disk (almost six hours) work by director Marco Tullio Giordana, which came out in 2003. It is the history/story (in Italian the same word, storia) of Italy from the early sixties to 2003 as told through the perspective of the lives of two brothers, Matteo (the gorgeous creature in the photo, actor Alessio Boni), who becomes a cop, and Nicola, who becomes a psychiatrist.

This film has been called by some a "masterpiece." I don't think so. Far from it. And this further confirms my disheartened opinion that Italian cinema is in a bad way. This is not to say that it isn't an interesting and moving experience.

Back in the day, they were wont to say: the personal is political. The film seeks to illustrate this, with the policeman and the physician as two possible ways of dealing with the disarray of the world. One of them succumbs. Of course I'm not telling you who.

The problem is that at the end the movie achieves what we Americans like to call "closure." It is my view that there is no closure in life in general, and this is especially true of Italian life in particular. In this sense I think the film is ultimately a failure.

However... handsome Alessio beckons you... Come watch all six hours... See me, and what happens to me.

La Santa- the 'ndrangheta

As reported in today's Corriere della Sera, there is a new work of investigative journalism out on the 'ndrangheta (also called La Santa, the saint) by Ruben H. Oliva and Enrico Fierro.

I quote (my translation):

"The Saint is the most frightening Mafia, the richest, most powerful, most violent and most protected one. Also the oldest: blood, honor, family and sophisticated codes with which to exchange orders. The Mafia whose bosses from isolated San Luca in Aspromonte, where the Sanctuary of the Madonna of Polsi is found, have conquered the entire world. The least fought, the most underrated, the bloodiest and most ruthless Mafia. The one in which there are no turncoats because the members are all connected by kinship ties. The Mafia in which little religious icons are seared into the hands and the Cross is carved by knife into the back. The one that punishes most strikingly, with chopped off heads and disinterred coffins that are set on fire... the one that throws an entire society into a panic, that destroys government by the State, that takes over from the state and ridicules it, that does business throughout the world, to the point of being involved with the doings of Russia's Gazprom."

Reliable statistics now show that the 'ndrangheta accounts for 3.5% of Italy's GNP. Scary stuff, and a further indication that neither Italy nor Europe is seriously confronting its real problems.

The book/DVD is called La Santa: viaggio nella 'ndrangheta sconosciuta, published by Rizzoli. A must read.

In the photo, a town in Aspromonte.

Cooking with Fernet Branca

Now who can resist a novel with a title like this? And how did I come upon this previously-unknown (to me) author, the expat Briton James Hamilton-Paterson?

I was enlightening my readers with my post about Italian amari, and out of a compassionate concern for humanity I of course felt it necessary to warn said readers about the highly objectionable Fernet Branca. Being the thorough Eggplant that I am, I did a brief Google search to ascertain that the feeling was indeed not a merely subjective one, and found a consensus on Fernet's awfulness. I also came upon this recent novel built on the extended gag of its protagonist trying to ward off undesirables by preparing (what's the opposite of delicacies?) grossities. Neologism, you heard it here first.

So, our British hero in Lucchesia (Look-keh-ZEE-ah), the area in Tuscany surrounding Lucca, plots to repel his neighbor by making a garlic and Fernet ice cream. He describes it memorably as being indicated for the sort of person "one would be glad to hear had died during the day." Don't we all know people like that? I know lots.

Sorry to say, but it doesn't work. But I won't spoil the ending for you. This is just a funny little book, but it should lead one to take a further look at other things by the author, an interesting man.

Saponetta Carli

Just hopped out of the shower and I'm sitting here with wet hair. I showered with Dial. Aren't you glad you use Dial- don't you wish everyone did?

Actually, no. I've been alternating the White Dial with my Carli Olive oil bar soap which I found at the counter of the Syrian Grocer on Shawmut Avenue here in Boston, while looking for Delverde gnocchi. The Carli soap, made by the same folks who make the oil, definitely comes out the winner. It's long-lasting and solid, with a very pleasant fragrance which will probably be more pleasing to those of the feminine persuasion (of either sex).

If you've never tried olive oil soap, this would be a good one to start off with. Although more expensive than regular bar soap, it will still be cheaper than the artisanal olive oil soap you may see on sale. Be advised that it neither smells nor feels like olive oil; there is no greasy film whatsoever. While not easy to find, it is available online through igourmet.com.

John Grisham, The Broker

I just finished reading Grisham's The Broker. I had found out by chance that he has a new book out for release this month called Playing for pizza (so much for stereotypes) to be set in Italy, involving a football player who goes there to play with a local team in the otherwise soccer-crazed country. This ground was actually already covered in the small but enjoyable 2002 movie by the Ciota brothers from Boston, called Ciao America, in which a young Italian-American goes to lovely Ferrara (one of my favorites) to coach their sagging football team. Worth seeing. Cute, especially if you understand football well, unlike the Eggplant.

Well. In speaking of the upcoming book, the reviewer mentioned the previous book set in Italy. So I procured it. Now Grisham is a good writer, and this is quite the page turner. Ole John has been bitten by the Italian bug, and as we know love is blind. One more book written by an English-speaker with a starry-eyed view of the country. Astounding how someone who through many years, many books and movies, and many, many bucks has propounded the idea of an evil, treacherous, even murderous world, and has now managed to find an Eden, in Italy of all places. Oh John, read Sciascia, per favore. Hell, read Shakespeare. It is the Italian Romeo who refers to "this loathsome world." There are no Edens. Especially not in Italy.

So John ha il prosciutto sugli occhi (he has ham over his eyes, he has blinders on). Apparently he also has ham over his ears. A large, probably too large part of the book is about the protagonist's efforts to learn the lingo in order to pass, because (like almost everyone in a Grisham novel) he is on the run. Even though the phrases are short and simple, he still manages to make plenty of mistakes. Pshaw!

But I enjoyed it anyway. And Grisham has beautiful blue eyes. Which we could see better without the ham.

The Silver Spoon

I'm becoming quite the curmudgeon. This is supposed to be the translation/adaptation of the indispensable Italian cookbook, originally published in Italy in 1950 as Il Cucchiaio d'Argento. I checked it out from the local library, which fortunately is nearby, because the tome weighs a ton.

First of all, there are no indispensable Italian cookbooks. The tradition of Italian cooking is an oral one. I have not seen this book in every Italian home in my twenty years in Italy, nor have I seen brides receiving it regularly as a wedding gift.

But let's take a look inside. Page 7, in enormous bold letters: "eating is a serious matter." Beginning of page 8: "eating is a serious matter in Italy." Who knew? I had no idea, did you? I rather imagined that the Italians had a great dislike and indifference toward the whole matter. Can you say "patronizing?"

It gets worse. Page 929: chicken with tuna. Wrap your brain around that. Does chicken with tuna sound good to you? No, it doesn't. Additional ingredients include anchovies and mayonnaise. Can do without.

Page 290: linguine with Genoese pesto. Dude, where are my pine nuts? No nuts of any sort in the recipe, for that matter. Pshaw!

Throughout the book, you find the instruction "brown the garlic." No you don't. Do not brown garlic. Browning of garlic is what has contributed to the bad name of garlic, which should be rosolato, made golden, not brown.

Poor Italian translations. The category of dried pasta is called paste secche, but the plural of pasta in Italian means pastries. Makes it sound like Homer Simpson is dumpster diving for stale doughnuts. Veal scallops on page 833 are classified under frattaglie, variety meats. Since when is veal a variety meat, either in Italy or America?

And what about the Belgian endive pizza on page 198? Is this a classic of Italian cuisine? It's not a classic of any cuisine, and never will be.

Formaggio Kitchen

Formaggio Kitchen, which has long operated out of Cambridge, Massachusetts, is actually a small family of three stores. The other, smaller, branches are located in the South End of Boston and in New York City. I am very familiar with the South End store, having frequented it for years. I can therefore vouch for their quality and competence. They have their own cheese cave beneath the Cambridge store, and regularly impart instruction on cheeses in the Boston area. But let's hear directly from South End employee Leslie, a competent and simpatica young woman:

"Our most popular Italian product is undoubtedly Parmigiano Reggiano. Over the past year (Aug. 2006 – Aug. 2007), we’ve sold over 900 pounds of Parmigiano!! Other popular items include pappardelle dried pasta, Prosciutto di Parma, pancetta, and San Pellegrino limonata/aranciata sodas. On the wine front, our most popular Italian wines are Copertino from Puglia and Corte Marzago’s Bianco di Custoza from the Veneto. We are also very excited about some special nebbiolo-based wines that are on their way to us from Valtellina.
Our staff’s favorite cheeses include our small-production robiolas (especially the Robiola di Pecora and Robiola di Roccaverano), our Taleggio Latte Crudo, and, of course, our Parmigiano. We also love our Italian olive oils, since many of them are made in tiny batches as a side-project by our favorite winemakers, and our cornmeal biscuits from Lombardy are a favorite as well as our Romanengo confections from Milano.

We ship wine to some states, but not all (the inter-state shipping laws vary by state). We do have a store in New York. It is in the Essex Street Market on the Lower East Side. The New York store is very small and does not have its own website, though it is mentioned on our Formaggio Kitchen website. We consider the FK website to be a master website for all the stores; any online orders should go through that site (and our South End Formaggio website will redirect you to the Cambridge website when you click on the “shop” icon)."

One qualm I have about the online shopping through FK. Their site does not, alas, show the detailed ingredients of such things as sauces, condiments, and other expensive little goodies. Before I spend over ten bucks on a jar of pesto, I want to know if it has olive oil and pine nuts. I do much of my bulk food shopping online. Some services show the ingredients (Peapod), others, such as Roche Bros. in Eastern Massachusetts, do not. For that matter, igourmet.com doesn't show detailed ingredients either. I e-mailed them yesterday about this and will report back to you on this matter of the highest urgency.

The best single cookbook

This may surprise you. This may disappoint you. This may shock you.

But. My vote for the single best cookbook you must have is...

The Joy of Cooking, 1975 edition.

Why not an Italian cookbook? Italians do not have our tradition of writing and using cookbooks, precisely because they are better at cooking. If you were to read their recipes, you would see a much greater vagueness, with expressions like "place in very hot oven till done". This also implies a higher level of skill. Marcella Hazan, for one, is not at all well-known in Italy. Hazan is basically an interpreter, and a good one, of the Italian gastronomic tradition to the Americans.

And now for something completely useful

I've ventured into the Italian language and the choppy waters of American foreign relations. Now we get to the important stuff: food.

My opinion is that if imported (here, Italian) ingredients can be reasonably replaced by domestic products, or products which are imported but more easily accessible, you can certainly do so, at least for everyday purposes.

Here is a list of four such products:
Belgioioso fresh mozzarella, out of Denmark, Wisconsin. Confirming that in WI they are indeed cheeseheads. This is quite good.
Chicken of the Sea clams in a pouch. I often use our New England canned clams, but these are closer to the imported bottled Amati and will make a superior pasta alle vongole. In fact, they're better than Amati. From Thailand.
Della Arborio rice. Not quite up to par with the best Italian risotto rices, but good for everyday use. Assuming you make risotto every day, which may not be a bad idea. Improbably from Arkansas. Hillary may serve this at the Inaugural Ball if she wins. It will be prepared by Arkansas native, the First Gentleman.
Goya Maria cookies. These are none other than the classic frollini. Light, crispy. Good with milk and for dunking.