Lardo di Colonnata | Pork fat nirvana

Belonging to the municipality of Carrara, considered the world's white marble capital, and the place where Michelangelo used to shop the raw material for his sculptures, Colonnata is a small village perched on a ridge between two marble quarries in the Tuscan Apennine Apuane Mountains, which is mostly known for another kind of white marbling, the one in the lardo.

Lardo di Colonnata © Massimo Zivieri

This smooth and delicious cured meat should not be mistaken with lard. What in the English-speaking world is commonly referred to as 'lard', is a rendered white paste that's used for cooking as a shortening, and named strutto in Italian, and sugna in the south of the peninsula.

Some folks are still nervous when it comes to eating fat. I personally am more suspicious of whoever rips the white part off prosciutto, but that's me. Lardo di Colonnata is a delicious cured "affettato" that should not be eaten with distraction. Each morsel of silken pork fat is a precious, melt-in-your-mouth, mystic experience, and the complexity of its flavor should be savored religiously.

Until recent times, lardo in northern Tuscany was considered a poor-man's meal, that cavatori –– the marble quarrymen of the area –– would stuff it in crusty homestyle bread sandwiches, along with sliced onions and tomatoes. This humble panino was prepared early in the morning before the men went off to carve statue staple out of the Apennines at 6200-ft altitude, a snack that had to last them all day. The calorie content, along with the vegetables and a nice flask of local wine, assured the necessary sustenance in the long and strenuous shifts at the quarries. In time lardo has become an exquisite gourmet item, and a highly sought foodie must.

Lardo di Colonnata is a beautiful white –– or sometimes pinkish –– slab of thick pork fatback, which is cured with a mixture of salt, spices, herbs and minced garlic. In the curing process the salt extracts moisture from the fat, creating a brine that preserves it from air and bacteria, and flavors the tissue. 

Alpi Apuane © Lucarelli

According to a local legend, Michelangelo could have never managed to extract his own marble or even sculpt his statues, were it not for the local lardo, of which he had grown very fond of during his stay in the Apuane.

Marble conca © lardodicolonnata.net

The procedure to make lardo dates back to Ancient Roman antiquity, and the secret has been handed down through generations. The seasoning magic happens in vats of various sizes called conche, carved out of marble blocks commonly stored in caves, or in underground cellars. The concas are initially rubbed with garlic, and the bottom scattered with sea salt, black pepper, cinnamon, cloves, coriander, sage, bay leaves, rosemary and more garlic. The trimmed fatbacks are placed in the conche and layered with more salt, herbs and spices, and so on; and closed under a wooden covering for about a week. Then the concas are flooded with a salt-water brine, sealed with a marble lid, and the lardo is aged in the brine up to 6 - 10 months. The natural humidity of the caves, and the porous surface of the marble basins create a perfect habitat for the lardo's maturing process. Chemical and bacteriological tests on the lardo have determined that the ancient curing method is extraordinarily efficient and safe, and the pork doesn't require any chemical treatment, nor preservatives.

Image @ culinarytypes

Thin slivers of lardo arranged casually on warmed slices of bread... see it melt slightly, before tasting the life-changing goodness. Perfection.

A glass of wine, a view, some pig fat on bread. Life is good.

Some like to wrap thin slices of lardo around filet mignon, go overboard with foie gras pairings, or prefer it employed in novel seafood recipes. Tuscans use the leftover lardo rind as a flavor booster in hearty soups and minestrones.

On one of my regular shopping spree trips to Colonnata, I learned a wonderful new way of enjoying lardo. Here is the recipe that –– besides the star ingredient –– also employs leftover polenta, and lightly seared radicchio.

radicchio tardivo

Ingredients:
Leftover polenta, cut in thin slices
1 head of radicchio tardivo, ribs separated
Lardo di Colonnata
Olive oil
Salt

Film a skillet with olive oil and lightly wilt the radiccio ribs.
Place the polenta slices on a greased oven pan, or on the grill, and toast 5 minutes on each side.
Dress the toasted polenta crisps still hot from the oven, with a generous amount of thinly sliced lardo. It will go translucent and melt beautifully.
Top with the grilled radicchio, uncork the vino rosso, and relinquish all inhibition.

To learn more about Lardo di Colonnata visit lardodicolonnata.net

You can also read an interesting article on Lardo di Colonnata: Protecting traditional foods from EEU regulators

Salumi Primer - Italian cured meats

This evening I dined in a restaurant whose first menu entry for antipasto was a dish called Elogio del Porco, which roughly translates to ‘Plaudit to the pork.’ Although generally eaten as antipasto, salumi–or cold cuts–are a selection of cured meats often known also as "affettati misti" that can be enjoyed freely at any point of the meal. Salumi span a wide assortment of (generally) pork-based cured meats, and for a clear definition of salumi all you really have to do is eat some handsomely folded in a warm bread roll. Like this.


My favorite specialty store to visit (much more than a jeweler or a haute couture boutique) is a salumeria, a local Italian deli. This especially when I'm in Rome's centro storico, the central old part of the city, where the Roman deli is commonly called a pizzicheria, presided over by a pizzicagnolo, an artisan managing a sharp slicer, fragrant specialties and palatable delights. Another name for this exquisite little shop of wonders is Norcineria (from the town of Norcia, renowned for its cured meats), where the person behind the counter is a Norcino. Gastronomia or Alimentari–other ways of calling a salumeria–are places where one can also purchase a wide range of prepared gastronomy items, from salads to pre-cooked dishes, dry goods and canned delicacies.

Whatever the name, the smell in the store is divine and the arrangement of cheeses and cold cuts is a work of art, balance, and efficiently creative use of space. When the salumeria is strategically located next door to a fornaio, there is no way out: purchase some warm bread, slice it open and fold in some freshly cut cheese or cured meat, or a mix of both, and enjoy your life then and there. When you are done, crumbs littering your chest and smile widening on your face, you can walk another few steps to the nearest bar and get yourself un caffé.

Some of the distinctive cold cuts that fall under the generic domain of Salumi are porco-based, but not all. There are hundreds of types of salumi found in Italy, some of the most popular are:

Bresaola

Bresaola is salt-cured beef typical product of the Alpine valley Valtellina. Bresaola is usually served finely sliced, and seasoned with olive oil, salt, and pepper, and lemon juice. Some like to add flecks of Parmigiano. I personally serve mine dribbled with pink grapefruit slices, olive oil, freshly ground black pepper and a little arugula.

Culatello

This lean and rosy, refined variety of raw prosciutto ham, is made with a part of the normal ham cut closest to the pig's rump. The name refers in fact to the animal's culo, a vernacular term for 'rear end.' Universally considered superior, aged culatello has a clean, delicate flavor. It is highly prized and priced, but worth every penny it's worth.

Finocchiona

This is a Tuscan fennel seed flavored salami that is aged less than regular salami, it is more of a soft sausage. Legend has it a thief stole a salami and hid it in a bushel of fennel seeds while chased down by guards. When he returned to pick up the booty, he found the aroma of the herb had seeped int the cured meat.

Galantina

Galantina is a delectable meatloaf made from boned poultry, stuffed with ground meat, hard boiled eggs, giardiniera, ham, truffles and other diced ingredients, pressed into a cylindrical shape, and poached in an aspic-like stock.

Lardo

The word translates as lard, and that's what this is, thick fat with some thin streaks of pink meat, cured with herbs, pepper, and salt. The best-known Italian lard is from the town of Colonnata, which is a small village perched on a ridge between two marble quarries in the Apuane Mountains above Carrara (the place where Michelangelo went to shop raw material for his sculptures).

Lardo can be used as a flavoring ingredient in other dishes (thinly sliced and wrapped around a filet mignon, for example), although it is best served as is, thinly sliced with plain toasted bread. If your cholesterol count can take it, this is one of the finest affettati around.

Rendered lard that's used for cooking as a shortening, is called strutto, and looks like a white paste.

Lonza

This is a salume made from pork shoulder, which has been trimmed of its fat, slipped into a casing, and then salted and air-cured with herbs and spices, treating it much like prosciutto. It is one of the leanest cold cuts available, and rather delicately flavored. Capocollo, as it sometimes also called, is sometimes marinated in wine.

Mortadella

This si a precooked and highly seasoned sausage the size of my den. Mortadella is also known as Mortadella di Bologna, the signature cold cut of the city.

Mortadella is a cooked salume, made from ground pork meat that's been stuffed in a casing with peppercorns, pistachios and cubes of pink fat. The popular bologna is usually sliced and served as a sandwich filler. I usually have my pizzicagnolo carve a thick 1-inch slice and then cube it. I place the cubes in small bowls scattered around the house and nibble them during mid morning housework. And mortadella rules stuffed in warm pizza bianca.

‘Nduja

This is a soft, spreadable Calabrian sausage that's been ground with tons of spicy red pepper, which lend it bold red color and a fiery flavor. The best way to enjoy 'nduja is scooping it out of the casing with a spoon, softening it further over mild heat, and dipping bread or veggies into it.

Pancetta

Dry cured pork's stomach meat. Pancia means abdomen, pancetta is also the affectionate name for the sexy pot-belly. Pancetta is made from the same cut used to make bacon. However, pancetta is not smoked, and there's no added sugar in the curing process.

Porchetta di Ariccia

Porchetta in the town of Ariccia is an institution, and no fair or festive gathering would be complete without it. Porchetta is commonly served in the town's many typical fraschette, local informal eateries where paper tablecloths and abundant portions are synonyms of quality. The Ariccia trademark porchetta looks very much like a cliché banquet prop from a Roman epic blockbuster. Fact is the Romans were great fans of porchetta, which has traveled through time and landed on our tables virtually unchanged from the one Nero ate during his orgies.

The ingredients are the same, a large boned and bound pig with an apple in its mouth, salt, pepper, garlic and herbs among which wild fennel or rosemary, depending on the Norcino who assembled it. The pork is spit roasted and served sliced, enjoyed with warm Genzano bread and abundant vino dei Castelli which is a table wine made in and around Frascati.

Prosciutto

The Italian word for ham is Prosciutto. In this case dry-cured ham, which has not been cooked. Italians call it simply prosciutto, short for prosciutto crudo, which means "raw." Prosciutto is a specialty of northern Italy, the signature Prosciutto di Parma and Prosciutto di San Daniele, are the sweetest, loveliest, melt-in-your-mouth hams in the universe.

Prosciutto Cotto

Cotto means 'cooked,' and this what this ham is, the kind you purchase in a deli as a cold cut. Once boned and trimmed, the pork legs are cured in salt, water and fine spiced brines that impart the cooked hams their typical aroma. The pork legs are then put in special molds to be cooked in steam ovens. The ones to choose from the myriad available on the market are the hams containing no gluten, milk proteins, phosphates, or MSG. Sometimes prosciutto cotto is also roasted, a process that provides a delicately sophisticated flavor.

Salame

The large sausages made with ground pork and cubes of fat, seasoned with salt and spices, which are then stuffed into a pig's intestine casing are the common definition for salame. Like prosciutto crudo, Italian salame is raw*, with the meat being cured by the salt in the spice mix. Salame piccante, has red peppers in it mixture. In the United States this known as pepperoni, and for some unknown reason it commonly garnishes pizza! The town of Felino, just outside of Parma in the Emilia Romagna region, is famed for its namesake salame Felino. Then there's Salame Milano, a popular standard whose pork fat is finely ground; and there's Cacciatorino, which means 'little hunter,' and indeed tiny he is. Corallina has 3 squared chunks of white fat in the middle of the otherwise fairly lean slice. Ungherese is lightly smoked and ambrosial in sandwiches. So you see, calling it simply salami is an oversimplification.

Soppressata, or Coppa

This is a sausage made from leftover pork cuttings, like cartilage and pieces of meat, which are stuffed into a casing and then cooked. The taste and texture are rather particular; people generally make sure their guests like it before offering it.

Speck

Speck is a salt-cured and cold-smoked ham of the Südtirol, or Alto Adige. The production of Speck remains quite artisanal and has recently obtained IGP status, which means it can only be made in the Südtirol and only following local traditional production methods. Speck is commonly served as antipasto.

Plaudit to the pork, then. I agree.



*Trichinosis, you wonder? The disease caused by trichinae, typically from infected meat, especially pork, characterized by digestive disturbance, fever, and muscular rigidity? It's virtually unknown in Italy. The salt and the aging process guarantees salumi and other pork-based cold cuts to be a safe food because the salt ties up all the water, making it impossible for any form of bacteria to grow.

Images courtesy of NovelliSalumi.it, Buttalapasta.it, Sorrentino.it

Emi's pork roast recipe

I noticed I've posted quite a number of recipes for fish, desserts, soups, vegetables, and pasta since I started blogging. Not to mention my love affair with cheese. What was missing so far was a proper carnivore's weekend entree. One to be made patiently and for the entire family, one that requires time and that will spill delicious aromas in the rooms near the kitchen.

The Italian word for roast is arrosto, a term that encompasses so much more that a mere cooking technique. It is an adjective, a noun, an onomatopoeic poem.

My mother’s theory is that if you can properly roast meat, you’ve learned how to cook. This was my 'test paper' when I first left home and had my mom over for lunch, what feels like a million years ago. My graduation to grown-up world.

I remember that day: the anticipation, the frenzied behavior, my nervous attempts to make it all perfect. Shopping for the right ingredients, assembling her favorite flowers and maniacally cleaning the house, readying it for her inspection. Not that she's much of a cleanliness freak, or someone fixated with order or form, but I wanted her first impression to be speckless. I wanted to prove that I could not only manage a home on my own, but that I could make one mean roast, too.

In Italy women leave the nest not upon going to college, but once married off to a husband. A man who - in a time not so distant in the past - would mainly be looking for a duplicate of his mother. I was 22 and single, my American side bludgeoning for autonomy. Through the conflict that ensued, I translated the energy into cooking and trying to reproduce my mother's and grandmother's culinary art.

So there she sat, eating quietly. She had a second helping... promising - I thought to myself, as I scanned the room for decoration debacles. I knew things were looking good when she sopped up the roast drippings with a chunk of bread, raising her eyebrows. My heart was pounding, and I'm sure she was feeling under examination too; but that didn't stop us from finishing our food, casually chatting and laughing (three elements of a perfect meal) as we always do.

The final Cordon Bleu moment came when she looked up at me with the most radiant of smiles and said, "La mia bambina ha superato la maestra!" My little girl has outshined her teacher.

My mother, Emi

1969

I passed the test. Here's how I did it back then and how I still prepare my Arrosto today:

1 boneless pork rib end roast, weighing about 1kg (2lbs). In Italy we call this cut arista
5 rosemary sprigs
3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
Salt and freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven at 160°C (320°F).

Trim away any fat from the roast and lace it with butcher’s twine to help it maintain its shape. Rub the meat with olive oil, and salt and pepper, massaging in the elements with love. Weave the rosemary twigs between the meat and the kitchen string, and place the prepared roast in the oven, using a high-rimmed oven pan (juice collecting is a must here).

Bake for an hour or until fork-tender. The meat must be well done but not overcooked, this will depend greatly on the size of the roast and oven power; it will be done when you stick a skewer into the middle and the juices run clear. A trick is to fill the drippings pan (one level beneath the roast pan) with water to maintain a good moisture level in your oven.

Remove the roast to a wire rack and let it cool for 15-20 minutes. This is an important step, juices tend to concentrate in the innermost part of the roast. By slicing it straight out of the oven, you would end up with a very watery and unattractive arrosto. Letting it rest allows the fluids to redistribute in the peripheral tissues and render a firm, juicy slice.

Discard the twine before carving. I usually serve my pork roast with applesauce and a side order of pan-fried string beans tossed with a clove of garlic, a fistful of toasted breadcrumbs and a thread of olive oil. 

"Il vino," you ask? Splurge with a Brunello di Montalcino, you deserve it! That or any rich, tannic red.

Buon appetito!