Spritz

A new cookbook deserves the attention of anyone interested in Italian food. Russell Norman’s Polpo [2012] includes Venetian small-plate dishes (cichèti or cicchètti) served in the wine bars (bàcari) of Venice. Although not technically a regional cookbook—Norman subtitled his book “A Venetian Cookbook (Of Sorts)”—Polpo embraces the spirit of Venetian food.

No doubt Polpo will receive a fair amount of review because its design exposes the signatures and their stitching normally hidden—some might say protected—behind a book’s spine. It’s a pretty gutsy move for a trade book, let alone a cookbook destined to work (and often to get dirty) in a kitchen. But as Norman points out in a short film located on his restaurant’s website [polpo.co.uk], if you open the book to any page, the book remains flat and open.

In addition to an Introduction and Gazetteer (“a short and subjective guide to some of Venice’s wine bars and restaurants”), Polpo covers cichèti, breads, fish, meat, vegetables, desserts, and drinks. Some of these recipes are uniquely Venetian, such as Sardèle in Saór Crostini (Sweet and Sour Sardines on Toast), Baccalà Mantecato (Salt Cod Spread) and Fegato alla Veneziana (Liver Venetian-style). Many of the other recipes come from different parts of Italy or simply have an Italian spirit. However, all of the recipes share a direct approach where success depends in large part on excellent-quality ingredients. Polpo specifies ingredients that are reasonably available in Britain, the cookbook’s country of origin; United States readers shouldn’t have any significant problems finding ingredients over here.

And what of pasta? Not terribly much, I’m afraid. With its focus on bàcari fare, the book doesn’t contain many pasta dishes. In fact, Polpo has only a few. One of these is Bìgoli in Salsa. Although Polpo the restaurant makes its own whole-wheat bigoli in a torchio (here), Norman doesn’t include this fresh pasta recipe. Damn. Instead, he writes you can “simply use a dried wholegrain spaghetti like all Venetian bàcari do.” No doubt this is true.

I’ll admit being disappointed upon learning that Polpo does not contain a fresh bigoli recipe. I needed a drink to lift my spirits. Thankfully Polpo does include a good Spritz recipe. Norman writes a “Spritz is a mixture of white wine (sometimes sparkling Prosecco is used), a bitter such as Campari or Aperol and a splash of soda water. The garnish should always be a slice of lemon and sometimes an olive too.” Wait! Always a slice of lemon? (And not an orange slice!) And sometimes Prosecco?! Norman continues: “[o]f course, there are many ways to make this drink and you will always find someone with a strong opinion telling you that it must be made this way or it should only ever be made like that…Well, this is how we make ours.”

For one:

• Ice
• 1 large green olive, drained of brine
• 75ml white wine—something simple from Veneto like a Garganega or a Pinot Bianco
• 50ml either Campari or Aperol
• Splash of soda water
• 1 slice of lemon

Take a large tumbler and fill it with ice. Push a large green olive (not one that has been kept in oil) onto the end of a cocktail skewer and pop it in the bottom of the glass. Pour the wine. Pour the Campari or Aperol. Add a short squirt of soda water and then a slice of lemon.

A Spritz tastes like a wonderful Italian holiday and is the most delightful of drinks.  I prefer the really bitter, stronger Campari version; I think the Aperol kind tastes a tad too sweet. I often use Prosecco in place of white wine and soda, and always garnish mine with an orange slice and a huge green olive. (Whoever came up with the idea of pairing a briny green olive with an orange slice in a bright, bitter, red-orange drink deserves a medal and a pat-on-the-back.) Jacob Kenedy’s Bocca Cookbook [2011] also has a delicious Spritz recipe. And a family hero, Enrico Casarosa, has a fantastic riff on the Spritz in his charming book The Venice Chronicles [2008].

Although a British publication, a good independent bookseller can find a copy of Polpo for US readers. The book deserves a broad audience. One final thought: Jenny Zarins’s elegant photographs in this handsome book transport you into a soft, lovely Venetian landscape. She has taken some of the most beautiful photographs of Venice that I have ever seen.

Pancakes

This site's third guest Bunburyist, Madeline Sharafian, studies Character Animation at CalArts in Valencia, California. Marion Cunningham's Plain Pancake recipe from The Breakfast Book [1987] is one of Maddie's favorite things to eat. The recipe makes two dozen 4-inch pancakes.

Baigan Bharta

My stalwart editor (here) recently left the country for an extended period of time. My only hope of securing her insightful comments and careful edits during her six-month British boondoggle is to tempt her into service by posting a few of her favorite dishes. She practices a non-dogmatic form of quasi-vegetarianism (i.e., she occasionally becomes a pescetarian so as not to inconvenience her tablemates. And who can forget The Celebrated Christmas Holiday Organic Chicken Stock Accord of 2011).  But simply said: She fancies vegetables. One of her most requested vegetarian dishes is Baigan Bharta or Baked Eggplant Purée with Seasoned Yogurt from Lord Krishna’s Cuisine – The Art of Indian Vegetarian Cooking by Yamuna Devi [1987].  I’ve heard her squeak with joy upon learning that dinner included this delicious smoky, spicy amalgamation. Now with the bait selected, let me set my trap.

Devi writes that her Baigan Bharta recipe is a Punjabi-style preparation. The recipe calls for cooking the baked flesh of an eggplant with green chilies and spices until the pulp reduces to a thick, savory mass. A literal translation of Baigan Bharta might read eggplant mush. (To my ear the word “mush” sounds so unappealing (except when used as a command while skijoring). My editor might take exception to this criticism and gently chide: “What's in a name? That which we call a rose 
by any other name would smell as sweet.” Perhaps, but Shakespeare was referring to a Montague and not to a mush.)  

How you ready your eggplant pulp for its mushing materially affects the dish’s final flavor. Authentic bhartas use vegetables baked in hot wood ash. Devi writes that “[f]ew vegetables can stand exposure to open heat without protective covers. Classic bhartas are therefore made from those limited few: mature potatoes, yams or sweet potatoes, winter squashes and eggplants.”  Ideally you would bake an eggplant for 45 minutes to 1 hour in a bed of hot white wood ash; this imparts a lovely smoky flavor into the eggplant.

Recognizing that many cannot or choose not to ash bake their vegetables, Devi provides other options for preparing eggplant for a bharta. One of these methods—the one I employ for convenience’ sake—involves oven-baking the eggplant on a baking sheet for 45 minutes in a preheated 425°F oven. Prior to baking, wash, dry and pierce the eggplant’s skin a handful of times with a knife. To approximate a classic bharta’s smoky flavor, Devi recommends rubbing the eggplant with butter and smoked salt before placing it in the oven. The eggplant is ready when its inside is meltingly soft.

If you want to forgo baking in ash or an oven, you can roast or broil your eggplant. Both of these methods involve rotating the eggplant over/under a hot fire. To roast the eggplant, wash, dry and prick the vegetable and place it on top of your stove’s gas burner, stem side pointing up for 5-6 minutes; then turn the eggplant on its side and give it the same treatment. Continue to roast the eggplant until it is completely charred and the inside is very soft. To broil, follow the same general approach as roasting using your oven’s broiler: Rotate the eggplant until it is entirely charred and the inside is butter soft. No matter the method used, the desired product is the soft flesh scooped from the inside of the cooked eggplant. Here is Devi’s recipe (with her asides) for Baigan Bharta.

• 1 medium-sized eggplant (1-1¼ pounds/455-570 g), freshly baked, roasted or broiled
• 2 tablespoons (30 ml) ghee or vegetable oil
• 1-2 teaspoons (5-10 ml) hot green chilies, seeded and minced
• ¼ teaspoon (1ml) yellow asafetida powder (hing)*
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) cumin seeds
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) ground coriander
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) salt
• 2 tablespoons (30 ml) each finally chopped fresh coriander and mint
• ⅔ cup (160 ml) plain yogurt or sour cream
• 1 teaspoon (5 ml) garam masala

* This amount applies only to yellow Cobra brand. Reduce any other asafetida by three-fourths.

1. Slice the eggplant in half lengthwise and carefully scoop out the pulp. Discard the skin and coarsely chop the pulp.

2. Heat the ghee or oil in a large nonstick frying pan over moderate heat. When it is hot but not smoking, add the green chilies, asafetida and cumin seeds and fry until the cumin seeds darken. Add the eggplant, ground coriander and salt, and cook, stirring frequently, until the mixture is dry and thick, about 10 minutes.

3. Remove the pan from the heat and let cool to room temperature. Stir in the fresh herbs, yogurt or sour cream and garam masala. (You may want to add a sprinkle of smoked salt if you baked the eggplant in an electric or gas oven.) Serve hot, at room temperature or chilled. Serves 4.

Some notes and thoughts.  You can find asafetida powder and garam masala online or buy them in any Indian food market. If you decide to explore Indian cuisine, you’ll find these ingredients indispensible and worth adding to your spice collection. (I’ve looked for but have not found a local source for Cobra brand hing.  Devi recommends dialing back the amount of hing when using other brands, but I don’t.)

Although I’ve made Devi’s Baigan Bharta with yogurt, more often than not I leave it out; I prefer the intense flavor of the unadulterated pan-fried eggplant. When I leave out the yogurt, my editor tops her Baigan Bharta with a cucumber and mint raita.

If you are looking for an outstanding cookbook on Indian food, I highly recommend Devi’s Lord Krishna’s Cuisine – The Art of Indian Vegetarian Cooking. You might also consider Suvir Saran’s Indian Home Cooking [2004] and Niloufer Ichaporia King’s My Bombay Kitchen [2007]. Saran’s recipes produce stunningly good results—much better Indian food than I ever imagined I could make at home. King’s work, subtitled Traditional and Modern Parsi Home Cooking, warrants special consideration. I love cooking from this book! To my palate, the dishes are exotic yet comforting.  My editor particularly likes King’s Pumpkin Buriyani. Hmm…perhaps more bait for the trap?