Italian Working Lunch

The whole point of this blog is to share my insight on Italian culture starting from what happens in the kitchen and around the dinner table. It's exciting when readers email me asking to develop a topic, so it was with great enthusiasm that I welcomed Joseph's request.

What do people in Italy eat during their work day? This particular subject gives me the chance to explore exactly those Italian eating customs I like to talk about. It's flattering that a reader of my blog would ask me to shed a little insight on how Italians do lunch, asking me to share ideas to apply to daily routine across the pond.

There is often a lot of talk about the gargantuan meals Italians prepare at home on Sundays, or what delights they can devour at restaurants on their time off, but not much information is shared about what gli italiani eat during the work week.

If you've been following my articles – given the recipes I share and my self-indulging habits – you may still be under the assumption that Italians eat 5-course meals twice a day, 7 days a week. We'd be all obese. The Mediterranean diet is healthy and keeps (most of) us Italians fit, but at that rate, anyone ingesting all those carbs, wine, cheese and cured pork would simply explode.

No, during the week, and particularly at work, we Italians exercise measure. Incredible, right?
How people in Italy do that depends on their line of work.

Occupation makes the difference. A white-collar obviously does not follow the same lunch routine as the guy pouring concrete. While the one with the higher paycheck and benefits grabs a quick panino or a salad at the nearby cafe or tavola calda that has an agreement with his firm, providing employees with "buoni pasto" prepaid meal coupons; it is the low-income labor that gets the best grub. Why? Because most hard hats carry home-cooked meals to work. Warm spoonfuls of risotto, heated carbonara; cacciatora chicken legs or yesterday's roast – always complete with a healthy vegetal side – come neatly packed in stacked lunch boxes called "porta-pranzo" or "porta vivande" (la schiscetta in Milanese dialect), tupperware, or other snap-lid containers.

But don't get me wrong, the lunch pail solution is frequently used throughout Italy, and not restricted to the construction site, but in other professional settings during the work week. Commuters, shop owners and full-timers all shut down for the pausa pranzo (lunch break) and may bring lunch from home. Despite leaving a restaurant with a doggy bag is unthinkable in all social statuses, the Italian bento box represents a cultural lens into how working class vs administrative executive positions attribute value to the workday meal.

Of course there's the social aspect, which on occasion is honored. But rarely will a group of colleagues march down the road to the nearby trattoria during their nine-to-five midday break. A classic Italian restaurant lunch means a) waiting too long (how can a respectful establishment feed a table of 4 in under an hour?); b) paying too steeply for food on a daily basis; and c) simply ingesting too much food. Expect to efficiently check the cash flow numbers on a stomach stuffed with amatriciana, involtini and cassata? Inconceivable.

Office employees will occasionally grab lunch at the nearest restaurant that cuts them deals on complete meal dishes, effectively zeroing out on issues a), b) and c). This practice has recently gained the anglophone menu billing "business lunch," or "light lunch." These commonly include a pasta or a main, a vegetable side dish, water, bread and fruit; with prices ranging anything between €9 and €12.

Another option of course is wolfing down a quick tramezzino (soft white bread, crusts removed, lots of mayo and assorted fillings) or a stuffed focaccia at the corner cafe. Panini (plural) come in all variants, sizes and flavors. Some cafes even have a griddle on which hamburger patties are cooked and slid with fixings in a bun. Regular Italian sandwich fillings vary according to season, but the quality of the ingredients does make the difference between acceptable panini and awful ones. My neighborhood bar makes excellent breakfast cappuccinos, and then at lunch produces some of the best sandwiches in the area: I like to occasionally tuck into some of their warm ciabatta filled with silken prosciutto slices and milky mozzarella; or crusty homestyle pane "rustico" slathered with Taleggio and sauteed spinach; or shrimp salad with tomato, or even salami and hard boiled egg... choices are boundless.

Others prefer their lunch seated, twirling a fork in a plate of pasta, followed by un caffè; while others rely more on the unfailing insalatona. Large niçoise-like salads are a constant factor of the Italian work week meal routine. These rather large productions come served undressed and usually sporting a central ball of mozzarella, arugula, radicchio, shredded carrots, 3 scattered cherry tomatoes, occasional pitted olives, and always tuna. Mysterious olive oil, vinegar and a salt shakers containing crystal concretions stand by on special dressings counters to which patrons help themselves.

In the 12 years I worked in the film industry, I learned that lunch on set can be of different sorts, according to the picture's budget. On Hollywood studio films, with stars worth 6 zeros and big crews, the catering service included food trucks that churned Louis XIV banquets virtually non-stop during the 10-hour work day: barbecued fish or steak, several choices in pasta, gnocchi or soup in winter; salads, fruit and crudité in summer; and offerings changed daily. Besides actual meals, it was the substantials that were the best. Substantials are the food served by craft service companies on film productions, three hours into the day, and again three hours after lunch. As their name suggests, these are a "substantial" enough snack to get the crew through the harder hours of work. Smart line producers will have a budget for clever substantials to keep the work force happy. When I worked on these high budget films (usually international pictures) handsome perks were awaited with anticipation during the laziest part of the day: one time it was chili con carne, one day roasted chestnuts hot off the coals, another time homemade gelato, one other time freshly baked cookies and milk. The daily craft table loaded with snacks and down-time nibbles alone could solve troubles in Ethiopia.

On indie movies and Italian small budget flicks, on the other hand, the meals were not as fancy. Nor that abundant. Rarely able to dine at a catered buffet, we'd more commonly lunch on a pre-packed "cestino," a box distributed to each crew member and fitted with a full, heated meal contained in small aluminum tins: one holding 6 forkfuls of non-al dente pasta, another with an entree, some of us chose vegetarian or celiac options, there was usually one or more pieces fruit, sometimes cheese and always wine. Yes! The cine-cestino meatloaf may be yesterday's recycled piccata, but the vino is always present.

Although drinking during work hours isn't acceptable overseas, Italian employers will tolerate the one glass during midday meals because, again, their hired consumers won't exaggerate. So, if after shooting a complex dialogue sequence, or a dynamic 4-camera set up for the car chase, a little wine will not hurt with lunch, on the contrary. If the boxed meal includes fish, white wine; while if the menu lists minestrone and stew, the wine will probably be red. We're not talking biodynamic or fancy, these wines are boxed in 8-fl oz cartons. But it's the chill-effect that counts.
Needless to say the post-lunch cue at the on set double espresso machine hooked up to the genny is always huge.
Pictured below is a typical rush to lunch situation after the Assistant Director yells "Pausa!" through the bullhorn.

Following are some common Italian work-week lunch solutions, either purchased or packed:

Pasta + salad This is a classic Italian work meal. It keeps faith to tradition, without weighing in on the digestive system. Carbs provide fuel, leafy greens lends crisp palate cleansing freshness

Chicken/meat/fish + grilled vegetables Popular mostly among those watching their figure

Frittata + sauteed greens Which can both also be stuffed in a sandwich...

Soup, cheese + fruit salad Vegetarians have it easy in Italy

Big mixed salad I've fallen victim of the insalatona constant myself: lean, reliable and good for clearing fridge of odd leftovers

Panino The sandwich option implies a hasty lunch, usually followed by numerous coffee breaks, and occasional chocolate supplements

Pizza al taglio In Rome as well as in many other parts of Italy, pizza is available in take-away shops which sell pizza al taglio baked with electric ovens in long, rectangular baking pans and relatively thick (1–2 cm), and intended for take out only. Pizza al taglio is available with an infinite amount of rotating different toppings; and portions are cut with scissors and sold by weight. In this range of bakery goods is also a flat, pizza-like bread called pizza bianca, which is topped with olive oil and coarse salt. A typical Roman custom is stuffing this plain pizza bread with mortadella, or prosciutto and figs, the result being known as pizza prosciutto e fichi.

Fritti (portable fried foods) and all Italian street food faithful to local regional tradition applies to lunch

Gelato complete meal summer staple

I hope to have provided Joseph and anyone else interested in adopting the Italian work week lunch habit some useful information with this article. I am open to discussion. And suggestions!

Ciao

Cozze fritte – Fried mussels

Eating piping hot fried mussels from a paper cone, while strolling down the street. You can't make this stuff up, it actually happens in the summer in Taranto, and in other parts of Apulia, the heel of the boot. We are talking street food to the nth degree which employs fresh, local ingredients and pure regional knowledge, applied to daily life.

The fantastically crunchy on the outside, marine salty, sexy and velvety aromatic on the inside cozze fritte are true morsels of foodporn. Not the photographic, shallow depth of field foodie kind: I’m talking about the actual hands on, hard-core, triple-X, foodgasm-inducing mangia; the kind that will have you reminiscing for days, giving you sensual memory-triggered butterflies and shivers.

What was that about shellfish not being aphrodisiac? I dare you to try these, and resists the temptation. You'll look back on oysters like a second grader regards his training wheels.

1 egg + 1 egg white
100 g (3 oz) flour, sifted
500 g (1.1 lb) medium-large mussels (summer’s the right season for these, so get them while you can, northern hemisphere friends!)
2 shallots, finely chopped
1 leek, the white part only and minced
A sprig of fresh thyme, finely chopped
The juice of 1 lemon
1 glass of dry, white wine
180 ml (6 fl oz) lager (don’t use light beer)
Extra virgin olive oil for marinade, plus more for frying
Salt and pepper to taste

In a large mixing bowl, beat and season the egg with a pinch of salt. Beat the egg white separately until peaks form.

Sift the flour and add it with the minced leek, fluffy egg white and the beer to the egg, mixing well. This is your batter. Cover it up with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour.

Wash, brush and clean your mussels, carefully removing the byssus and barnacles from the valves, rinsing them in a salt-water solution, and then draining them well.

Steam the mussels in a large covered pan with chopped shallots, thyme, freshly ground black pepper and the wine, simmering over a vivacious flame to make the valves open, about 4-5 minutes. Discard any that fail to open.

When cool enough to manage with your bare hands, remove the mussels from their shells and marinade them in a bowl with lemon juice, 3 tbsp of extra virgin olive oil.
Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour.

Heat a generous amount of olive oil in a large enough frying pan.

When the oil is hot but not smoking, fish your mussels out of the marinade with a slotted spoon and dunk them in the chilled leek-flavored batter.
Plunge them immediately in the boiling hot oil and fry in small batches for a few minutes, or until golden and crisp. The temperature shock from the chilled, airy batter hitting the scalding oil guarantees the best results.

Park briefly on a paper towel and serve hot-hot-hot with a curry or ginger–flavored mayo dip. Conversely, the bottle of sparkling Frenciacorta Satén must be cold-cold-cold.

Images courtesy of buttalapasta.it - corrierecucina

Food Trucks in Rome

I first started hearing of construction site–meets–Hollywood film set roach coaches turned into gourmet gatherings in L.A., by friends and family who raved about top chefs going mobile, and mouthwatering tweets that informed hungry patrons at which corner the best Asian taco truck would park that day. The food truck buzz was too loud to ignore, so taking advantage of my nephew's wedding in Texas this past July, trip that included some quality time in California, I decided to investigate the US food truck scene in the only way possible. Eating my way through it.

First up I hit Dallas, and found an astonishing street food scene. Not all fried green beans and ribs, here I tasted some of the best Korean fusion and tacos north of San Luis Potosì. If the term "kimchee fries" says nothing to you, look up ssahmBBQ.com. Austin showed some pretty nice food on wheels – can't forget the fried chicken, shrimp and avocado coated in an almond, sesame seeds, cornflakes and chili panure – as did Houston, with it's superlative Tex-Mex and sensational food-truck meetups advertised in the lifestyle section of the paper.

Then it was San Francisco, with its illuminated food culture and eating activism. The city's food trucks went beyond fusion and value meals, these put actual white tablecloth restaurant chefs on the expandable/collapsible kitchens for some serious high-end, gourmet mobile eats, like the former organic farming students that run a rotisserie truck that serves heritage pork, free-range chicken and local lamb. Awesome!

At the Monterey weekly farmer's market, the tandoori oven on wheels fed flocking crowds some of the best chicken and chapatti I've had in a long time. Next in line I checked Los Angeles, another epiphany: Reuben sandwich trucks, breakfast food trucks, bacon-with-everything trucks, fried chicken and waffles trucks, BBQ burger trucks, cold stone ice cream trucks, thai-mex trucks, lobster sandwich trucks, sustainable trucks running on vegetable oil, dumpling & samosa trucks... each selling all kinds of awesome grub.

Every single pop-up wheeled enterprise I tried, offered great food that was cooked well, and cost reasonably little. Each business I ate at had a Facebook page, a Twitter account, QR codes and catering gigs lined up 'til 2014. These people understand the importance of communication, image and hard work: they dish out an average of 300 lunches a day, and besides creating a new food trend, they keep their clientele informed and happy, raise good cash, and most importantly, are bringing people back to dining.

photo © www.cousinsmainelobster.com

I began to feel a little envious. Seriously, why can't we have that here? Can't we replicate this genius phenomenon in Italy too, where food can be good but lacks international variety, the economy is in a down-pointed vortex, and any food fad tagged USA is a sure hit (well, except for Starbucks)?

Does the average Italian Joe that lunches out need to necessarily sit at a table, read his meal off a menu (albeit scribbled on a chalkboard) and perforce use silverware? Is the food truck concept too alien for Italians? Might the idea of a mobile cuisine be scary to the locals, who tend to associate it with the dubiously painted and hygienically–challenged panini-gelato-pizza carts that charge €5 for a bottle of lukewarm mineral water, and that Roman rodents are so fond of? Or can present day Italy, habitual to street food and regular historic invasions by foreign cultures, actually become the next food truck frontier? Mauro Uliassi, a cheerful Michelin-starred chef from Senigallia, is probably the first trying to make it happen, with his mobile food caravan.

photo © dissapore

At Torino's recent Salone del Gusto - Terra Madre world food extravaganza, Uliassi, who wisely focuses his efforts on street food, parked his little "StreetGood" kitchen cart in the middle of Lingotto's Padiglione 2 and sold fried morsels and gourmet sandwiches to the audience. All food coma and festival stupor aside, I think his was one of the best ideas present at the Salone del Gusto. He proved that good, affordable food can be brought to the many, and be available via roving kitchens.

I interviewed a friend and fellow expat foodie living in Rome who dispenses wine pleasures with her Vinoroma wine tasting venture, and that is strongly invested in the Rome food scene. When I asked her opinion on food trucks having a chance in Rome, the response was more than enthusiastic. It sounded like a business pitch. This got my metaphoric glands salivating.

So here I am calling out to you, my fellow expat friends living in Rome, with an idea. I'm looking for partners in a crazy venture. I want to start a Rome food truck movement, in a moment in which Italian food is in dire need of a revolution.

I am speaking to you. You who will sell a limb for a decent burrito. Yes, you right there stubbornly believing Rome will one day deliver a properly toasted bun for that 25% fatty burger you crave. You, with the Asian noodle fetish, and you there, in constant unfulfilled Rome ethnic food lust: if you haven't surrendered, come to me. Let's pool ideas, let's get serious, brainstorm, talk Kickstarter and buy that old Airstream van in the Cinecittà scrap heap. The required start-up capital should be minimal. Let's get this Rome food truck scene moving, and let us "stranieri" give Rome the dream. Starting with fulfilling our own, down in the streets.

foto © allbarnone

Where to eat in Rome near the monuments

If you're sightseeing in Rome, make sure you know where the good wine, gelato and pizza are first!

History, archeology, art, food and wine — Rome is generous with its variegated goods. The only real risk is overkill. The wise thing is to alternate sightseeing with food breaks.

But where to pause the cultural spree with some well-chosen snack nosh? Here's my shortlist of favorite places for smart (and tasty) intervals, arranged by sightseeing neighborhoods.


Continue Reading ➔

Tuscan street food

Image © AT Casa

I wrote a post on Panelle some time ago, providing the recipe for the typical Sicilian street food fritter made with chickpea flour.

But I had completely forgotten about Cecina! During a recent weekend escape in Lunigiana, I was pleasantly reminded of this local delicacy. And I indulged in the reminder several times a day, to be honest.

Although very similar in its composition to Farinata–from Liguria–and Panelle, Cecina is not fried like its Sicilian counterpart, rather it is traditionally baked in a large copper pan called 'teglia' measuring over 1 meter in diameter (3 feet). Cecina is commonly baked in a wood-burning oven, but you can also make it at home. La cecina is a simple mixture of water, chickpea flour and salt. The rather liquid batter is poured with a jug into the special teglie and baked for a few minutes until crisp and golden, yet remaining incredibly soft and fluffy on the inside!

It is best eaten piping hot with only a sprinkling of ground black pepper. Its unique crisp/tender texture melts in your mouth and pleasurably scratches your throat at the same time. You can find Cecina sold as a snack all along the Tuscan riviera, in Lunigiana but also in Pisa, Livorno, Lucca and Massa Carrara.

Illustration by Olga Bruno © terraditoscana.com

This made me think of other Tuscan street food examples.

I ignorantly thought Rome held supremacy over tripe, but I was wrong. Toscana boasts a long tradition of offal dishes, and a long-established custom of selling them in roadside kiosks.

Take the Panino col Lampredotto sandwich, for example. Although widespread throughout the entire Tuscan region, this peasant preparation actually comes from Florence. The fourth and final stomach of common bovines, stewed in a seasoned broth, is shredded and stuffed in a bread roll. When asked if you want your €2,50 sandwich bagnato (wet) you should always say "Sì!" The trippaio preparing it will dunk the top portion of the bread in the lampredotto cooking sauce, and will therefore be served to you juicy, wet and dripping with tasty sauce.

Add on: Thanks to Oriana from Tuscanycious, who reminded me of the mandatory green sauce topping. Here's the recipe. You can also watch their fun video that graphically explains how to make Lampredotto sandwich.

Image © S-Punti di vista

Image © consumazione obbligatoria

Or the Insalata di Trippa, a cold plate made with boiled calf's tripe, sliced oranges, celery and seasoned with olive oil and cracked black pepper. It contends the title for best tripe dish with local Trippa alla Fiorentina, in which the meatier or spongy, honeycomb part of the stomach lining is cut it into very thin strips, stewed with battuto and tomato and then sprinkled with grated Parmigiano cheese before browning it in the oven for five minutes.

Other trippai specialties (kiosks that sell these snacks) include fried brains–which shortly after the popular cannibal movie saga was aptly renamed "the Hannibal"–nervetti (chopped up tendons and meat from the calf's foot), lingua (tongue), pan co' grifi (a sandwich made with stewed pork muzzle. The chopped meat is ladled into a deep bread pocket called "orcello", used like a soup bowl, and comfortably eaten with a spoon, during your passeggiata. Grifi, or musetto can also be ground into a sausage or used to add flavor to stews and soups); and Animelle, which according to the Italian Culinary Foundation are defined as, "sweetbreads, or the thymus glands of veal and lamb." The testicles (that's what they are, essentially) are skinned and soaked in chilled water for 2-3 hours before being fried and served in paper cones.

Another typically Tuscan snack is ranocchi fritti, or fried frogs (this is turning into a post not suited for those with a delicate stomach). This peasant dish is native to the watery lowlands of western Florence, and the best hunters for the main ingredient were notably kids, who took the chore as a game. The skinned amphibians are left to marinate in beaten eggs, lemon and salt, and then deep fried in vegetable oil.

Mau & Tamara, the trippai in Piazza Mercatale, Prato

A few favorite places in Florence banchini dei "trippai" where you can find the dishes mentioned above:

- Mario in Piazzale di Porta Romana
- Lorenzo in Piazza Artom
- Marco on Via Gioberti (near piazza Beccaria)
- Alessio on Via Aretina (on the corner of Via Casaccia)
- Orazio at the Loggia del Porcellino
- Sergio on Via de' Macci (on the corner of Borgo la Croce)
- Leonardo on Viale Giannotti (corner of Via Paradiso)
- Lupen e Margo (used to be called La Trippaia), on Via dell'Ariento (on the corner of Via Sant'Antonino)
- Simone in Piazza de' Nerli
- Il Trippaio di Firenze on Via Maso Finiguerra (corner of Via Palazzuolo)
- Maurizio, "il Molisano" on Via dei Cimatori

Image © Big Map

Buon FERRAGOSTO a tutti!