Malloreddus recipe

The stunning island of Sardinia bears the marks of outsiders, from Phoenicians, Carthaginians and Romans to the seamen of Genoa, Pisa, and the Savoys who proclaimed the Kingdom of Sardegna. But Spaniards, who ruled for centuries before, lent the most pronounced accents to the language, food and wines. As a sum of all these influences, the cooking of Sardegna still remains as eccentric as the nuraghe, the prehistoric stone towers whose origins are still a rocky enigma.

Sardegna folks consume interesting quantities of dried pasta, in the familiar forms of spaghetti and maccheroni, though they also make the singular ravioli-like Culurgiones, toss Fregula buttons in their soups, and roll homemade semolina gnocchi called malloreddus, commonly described as the region’s most typical dish.

Here's the recipe to make them from scratch. Otherwise you can purchase them here.

800 g (4 cups) semolina flour
300 g (1 1/2 cups) warmed water
1 tsp powdered saffron
Salt

Mound the semolina and poke a hole in the top. Pour in the water, salt, and saffron in the crater, and using a fork, beat them together. Now begin to incorporate the semolina, starting with the inner rim of the volcano. When half of the semolina is incorporated, the dough will begin to come together. OK, now start kneading the dough, using the palms of your hands, mostly.

Discard any stray dried bits of dough and continue kneading for 10 more minutes, dusting the work surface with more flour if necessary. The dough should feel springy and a little bit sticky. Cover the dough with a clean cloth and allow to rest in a dusted bowl for 30 minutes at room temperature before using.

Cut the pasta into 4 parts. Roll each into a 1-inch snake, and cut into bolt-sized nuggets. Roll each piece on this tool, or down the back of a fork with your thumb to give it the characteristic ridges, and set aside on a floured surface until ready to cook.

Image © giallozafferano

For the sauce:

400 g (14 oz) canned tomatoes, crushed
200 g (1 cup) Italian sausage, peeled and minced
1 white onion, thinly sliced
A bunch of fresh wild fennel (can be substituted with fennel seeds if necessary)
Extra virgin olive oil
Lots of Pecorino or Fiore Sardo cheese, grated


Film a large skillet with a thread of olive oil, and lightly brown the sausage, when evenly colored, add the onion, and simmer over a low flame until translucent.

In a bowl, steep the chopped wild fennel in 1/4 cup olive oil and set aside.

When the onion and sausage have married, add the canned tomatoes and cook over mild heat for 45 minutes, stirring occasionally: do this for the pleasure of fogging up your glasses and inhaling the aroma. As every passionate cook knows, when you cook with love and pleasure, flavor and final outcome profit.

Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a rolling boil, cook your homemade malloreddus, and drain quite al dente. 

Drop the cooked pasta into the pan with the tomatoes, mixing well until well coated. 

Stir in the fennel marinade, and simmer over vivacious heat for another 3-4 minutes. 

Sprinkle 3 handfuls of grated cheese, and stir some more. Serve straight from the cooking pan onto hot plates, dusted with more grated Pecorino or Fiore Sardo, and a large smile on your face.

Bruschetta recipe

The first thing to know before making this genius antipasto staple and its creative variations is how to pronounce its name correctly.

Not 'brushetta,' please. That's mortifying. It's bru–SKET–tah. An onomatopoeic homage to the sharp sound made when digging your teeth in the crisp charcoal baked sourdough bread, drizzled with olive oil and seasoned with sea salt. Sk! Sk! Think skyscraper! Basket! Skipper! Helter Skelter! Brusketta! Yeah, that's it.

In Tuscany, bruschetta is more commonly called fettunta, a contraction of two words (fetta unta) meaning oiled slice. When olives are taken to the local frantoio mill for pressing in late November, the growers typically take some country casereccio bread with them. There is usually a small fireplace burning in the corner of the pressing room, and when the fragrant liquid gold emerges from the press spout, the grower toasts a bit of the bread on the fire to sample the oil.

The meaning of the noun bruschetta has changed so that now some use the word bruschetta incorrectly to refer to the topping instead of the dish. Many grocery store chains worldwide sell bottled bruschetta, which is simply a mix of tomatoes, onion, garlic and oregano, usually cooked!

For original "red" bruschetta, only fresh tomatoes are used and never a sauce. And allow me to say this one more time, we Italians limit the use of oregano to few special dishes: common pizza toppings, Costata alla Pizzaiola and very few other applications. Any other use is a distortion of Italian flavor and a cliché.

All this said, here's my way of making delicious messy slabs of heaven.

For authentic bruschetta you will need:

Good, thick-crust preferably wood oven-baked bread: whole wheat, sourdough (with its typical chip structure and characteristic aroma) or delicious home-style pane casareccio bread. Bruschetta is a good way of recycling day old, or stale bread too.
Organic, cold pressed, extra virgin olive oil. The finest quality is key, particularly for this dish.
Numerous cloves of garlic, peeled
Sea or Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Optional:
Cherry tomatoes, chopped
Fresh basil leaves, hand-torn (cutting with a metal blade alters the flavor)

The term bruschetta comes from the word bruscare, which means to toast on the fire. So this is a procedure to be carried out on any red-hot surface, be it a barbecue grill, a wood burning oven or fireplace. Pop in a tosater if all else fails. The important thing is the degree of crunch.

While you wait for the coals or logs to reach meat-cooking temperature, place bread slices (max 1 inch thick) on the grill and keep a close watch. Turn with a pair of tongs and remove when lightly charred on the surface.

On a large serving platter place the hot slices and begin rubbing with the peeled garlic cloves to flavor the bread. The more vigorous the scrub, the more intense the taste will be.

Drizzle with abundant olive oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste.

You can dress with chopped tomatoes and basil, or any other interesting variation you may wish to invent. I personally love bruschetta plain, but in the summer when I have guest over for a barbecue, I always like to present them with a variety of choices. Some favorite sample bruschettas include: slices of Prosciutto and a thin wafer slices of mild Nero di Pienza Pecorino cheese, sundried tomatoes and Gaeta olives, veggie spreads like olive or artichoke paste or a dollop of pesto sauce mixed with cream cheese. A very successful coastal bruschetta topping is a spoonful of shelled wedge clams stewed in garlic and olive oil, sprinkled with (very little) parsley.

Amuse bouche recipe

To keep our guests busy while last touches were being made on the gargantuan Ferragosto meal, we offered these tiny amuse bouche (French for small, savory items served as an appetizer, literally 'amuse the mouth') presented in lovely little china dipping bowls.

We made deviled eggs and tuna-stuffed cherry tomatoes; and dressed each respectively with a minuscule Salina caper, and a pitted olive. We decorated each serving bowl with some baby lettuce and, voila smiles on faces.

Buon appetito.

Whistle while you work

Wine tasting

Pizza bianca with speck, smoked mozzarella. lettuce and pistachio pesto

Bufala + semi-dried tomatoes

Goat cheese and ricotta gnocchi

Oh shucks, vacation is over. Time to go back to work :)

Pomodori al Tonno recipe

I'm a hard worker, but not in summer. In summer I'm lazy.

Even in the kitchen.

Plus it's hot, and working by the stove–or even worse, the oven–in this weather, is torture.

Like today, for example. I wasn't feeling too good, I had no appetite (a bad sign for me), and I didn't have the desire to even swim once. What I did do was take a nice walk in the property's orto (vegetable garden) with a large basket, and returned home with inspiration.

And lunch.

The good thing about spending time in the country is that you don't have to bother going grocery shopping. The produce is all home-grown, and every family has a ridiculously well-stocked pantry. Olive oil, wine, jams and preserves, canned vegetables, honey, bottled sauces, eggs, sausages, herbs, bread... everything is sourced or made right here, on the premises.

When I rinsed the field dust off these tomatoes, they were still warm from the sun.

I whipped this dish up in 10 minutes, and it managed to restore a smile on my face.

And a grumble to my tummy.

6 small Vesuvio tomatoes, halved
200 g (1 cup) oil-packed tuna, drained and flaked
2 ribs of baby white celery, diced
3-4 tablespoons of light mayonnaise
Pinch of salt

Scoop out the pulp from the tomatoes, removing seeds and watery parts, and set aside.

Chop the tomato pulp, toss in a mixing bowl with remaining ingredients, and stir to mix well.

Divide the mixture and scoop it into the halved tomatoes. Refrigerate 30 minutes before serving.

Uncork the chilled Sauvignon and put your feet up, it's summer and you deserve a break after all this hard work.


Buon appetito.

Crostini recipe

Mazzini ~ Cavour ~ Garibaldi

On March 17th 2011, Italy will celebrate 150 years of its unification, which led to the birth of the country as a nation. It was only after WWII that Italy's borders were re-written on today's maps, but 1861 was the pivotal year in a labored process that unified territories previously ruled by many different (and mostly foreign) sovreignties.

Isn't it staggering to think that a civilization so crucial to the development and shaping on Europe (and the world) is also one of the youngest nations?

All this came with a cost, there were wars, bloodshed, poverty and revolutions. This period of Italian history is known as il Risorgimento, which means "the resurrection," an era of deep awakening for people from all ends of the boot-shaped peninsula who sided together to depose "the invaders" and claim full independence.

Some Italian politicians are not happy with this celebration, insisting on their separatist agenda. But let's not get into that, now. I'm fully embracing this celebration to honor the memory of those who died for Italy's freedom and unification. 

There are special events promoted all across the country to celebrate Italy's 150th Unification, myriad exhibits, theater and ballet openings, concerts, sport happenings, street artist performances, book readings, guided visits of major churches and sites, light shows and fireworks. You can find the full calendar of events, both nationwide and for major cities, HERE.

I was invited by Manu to participate in a special 150 Unification Party, a delicious recipe link-up. Please visit her site to see more celebratory posts by participating food bloggers, and join in the fun!

I'm contributing a simple CROSTINI recipe, one that employs typical Italian ingredients and that celebrates the colors of the Italian flag: green, white and red.

Ingredients for 2 servings:
1 cup fresh heirloom tomatoes (whatever variety grows locally in your area)
1/2 ciabatta, baguette or sourdough loaf
100 g (1/2 cup) fresh mozzarella di bufala
A bunch of fresh basil
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper


Dice the mozzarella, draining away milky whey as you chop.

Dice the tomatoes, discarding seeds and juice. Season them with a little olive oil, a small pinch of salt and a few basil leaves. Leave to marinade for 10 minutes.

Preheat oven to 360°F

Cut the bread loaf open lengthwise, to obtain two open faces.

Sprinkle each with the seasoned tomatoes and mozzarella, and drizzle with a thread of olive oil.

Place the dressed bread on a cookie sheet and place it the oven for about ten minutes. Here’s why: you want to melt the mozzarella and bake the bread just a bit. If we were to simply stick the pan under the broiler, the cheese would melt and bubble very quickly but the bread might get soggy from the dressing's moistness. After ten minutes, crank on the broiler and finish off the crostini for a few minutes.

Adjust seasoning and serve garnished with more torn basil leaves (cutting them with a metal blade kills the flavor).

Buon Appetito e Auguri, Italia!

Pizza Part 1

Pizza defines Italy. It plays a very important role in the Italian diet, and I can't feel good about blogging all things tasty without mentioning pizza. Being such a vast subject, this post will be divided into 3 parts. Today I will introduce you to some basic facts, a little history and the recipe for the basic pizza dough. Shall I order the beers while you read? Va bene.

Pizza is the most popular creation of all Italian cuisine, and certainly the best known of the Napoli area. Its roots are much older than the tomato that tops it, and pizza is probably one of the oldest existing foods. The Ancient Greeks covered their bread with oils, herbs, and cheese. The Romans developed placenta, a sheet of flour-based dough topped with ricotta cheese and honey and flavored with bay leaves. An early type of pizza was then developed in the later part of the Roman Empire; it was a round wheat loaf divided into 8 sections. Proof of this is in the lava-preserved artifact on display in the Pompeii museum.

Image © Beatrice 

But la pizza, as we know it today–with basic tomato sauce topping–originated in Italy in the late 1700s. It soon became very popular among the destitute as well as with barons and princes of the Bourbon court. Even finicky King Ferdinand I (1751–1825) loved cooking pizza in Napoli’s ornate Capodimonte porcelain ovens.


After the Italian unification, in 1889, in honor of queen Margaret of Savoy, master pizzaiolo Raffaele Esposito created a patriotic pizza, in which the colors of the Italian flag were represented by the white mozzarella topping, red tomato sauce and fresh green basil. He named it Margherita, dedicating it to the queen, who ate it contentedly.

The real Neapolitan pizza must be cooked in a olive wood-fired brick oven, which usually gets fired early in the morning to be employed for dinner pizza (in serious establishments, pizza is hardly ever baked for lunch for that reason). It is then meticulously hand-made by an able pizziaiolo who molds the dough disc with a thinner middle and thicker outer rim. Some believe tossing the pizza in the air produces best overall results. The spectacular image of foot-long blankets of raw dough being hurled in the air above your head is a thrilling experience. Specially if you’re sitting nearby, and wearing a dark outfit.

The ingredients and olive oil are then quickly spread on the disk, and with a brisk movement the pizza is slid on a long-handled shovel called a pizza peel, glided in the oven where it is spun around a few times in order to obtain uniform cooking.

The dough for making pizza in Italy is commercially sold risen and ready for use in most supermarkets. Homemade pizza is however a kind of antithesis, in fact the genuine flavor, texture and pizza definition can only be sought after in specialized pizzeria restaurants that bake their fares in large brick, wood-fired ovens; handled, flipped, tossed and crafted by specially skilled pizzaioli masters, and moreover made with the special hard water of southern Italy.

If you wish to attempt your own homemade pizza, follow these instructions similar to those for breadmaking. While waiting for the dough to rise, browse websites that market wood-fired brick ovens and acrobatic pizza-hurling classes.

Ingredients for basic pizza dough
50 g (1/4 cup) brewer’s yeast
2 cups warm water, plus more if necessary
1 kg (2.2 lbs) all-purpose flour
6 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for greasing the bowl during leavening
30 g (1 oz) salt
2 teaspoons sugar, leveled

Keep handy the tomato sauce, garlic, fresh basil, mozzarella, oregano, salt and pepper and whatever you might like to top your pizza with.

In a small bowl, sprinkle the yeast in a glass of warm water, add the sugar and stir to dissolve both. Set aside until the yeast begins to form bubbles, about 5 minutes. Do the same thing with the salt, dissolve it in a glass of warm water and set aside.

Sift the flour into a large bowl or on a work surface. Mold the flour in a volcano mound–this in Italian is called fontana, 'fountain.'

Pour the yeast mix, olive oil, and the diluted salt emulsion in the crater of your volcano.

Using a spatula, draw the ingredients together. Add the rest of the water slowly and mix with your hands to obtain a solid mass. You may see that you need more water, or if your flour is not too absorbant, you may not use it all. As you keep kneading, a ball of dough will gradually start forming. Sprinkle some flour on the work surface, and transfer the dough on the floured surface. Knead it briefly with your hands pushing and folding it over, just long enough for the dough to take in a little more flour, and until it no longer sticks to your hands.

Grease the inside of another bowl with a little olive oil, and transfer the dough into it. Make a crisscross incision on the top of the ball of dough, and grease it with a very small amount of olive oil. This last step will prevent the surface of the dough from drying and cracking while rising.

Cover the bowl with a kitchen cloth, and set the bowl aside for approximately 1 1/2 to 2 hours until the dough doubles in volume. The time required for rising will depend on the strength of the yeast and the room temperature, which should be around 20–24°C (68–75°F), for the dough to rise properly. Avoid drafts and nearby air conditioning venting shafts.

When the dough is double its original size, punch it down to eliminate air bubbles.

Divvy it up into fist-sized pieces, and roll each into a ball. Flatten each ball to make round disks about 20 cm (8 inches) in diameter. Keep at it stubbornly: flattening the dough into a pizza disc is not easy, but don’t let shrinkage and elasticity disourage you.

When your oven has reached Inferno level, dress your pizza with 2 tablespoons of tomato purée (not more!), a thread of olive oil and some crushed garlic. Pop in the oven and bake for 7-9 minutes.

When ready to serve, drizzle more olive oil and sprinkle a dash of dried oregano and salt. Voilà, Pizza Marinara!

For the Margherita variation: spread the same tablespoon of tomato purée on the flattened pizza disc, spinkle it with diced mozzarella and a pinch of salt. Drizzle with olive oil and into the oven it goes, same procedure. When the pizza is baked and the mozzarella has melted wonderfully, drizzle a bit more olive oil, dot the surface with fresh basil leaves torn into bits, and thank Mr. Esposito profusely.

I hope you enjoyed this introduction to basic Italian pizza. Come back on Tuesday for Part 2 of the series, with an in-depth exploration of the various types of pizza, a detailed list of Italian favorites and another delicious recipe...

Pommarola homemade tomato sauce recipe

Pommarola – fresh tomato and vegetable preserves – is an Italian summertime activity more than a genuine seasonal recipe. After the tomato harvest, families get busy peeling and canning tomatoes into preserves-form for the winter. This recipe expands well, and most households make gallons of it when the flood of tomatoes reaches its peak in August.

Mason jars filled with the final product are a delicious pantry staple. With an incredibly long shelf life.


Fresh, ripe ingredients are key, and fortunately organic heirloom, Roma, or plum tomatoes can be found in virtually every farmer's market. It is best to choose red and firm fruits for this preparation, in any variety that don't release as much water as vine-ripened or slicing tomatoes, which could extend cooking time.

Early this morning we took in 4 overflowing crates of tomatoes from the orto, the vegetable garden, which yielded 5 kg (11 lbs) of finished product. Yesterday we made double that.
Below I have listed quantities and ingredients that yield about 5 jars of pommarola:

4 lbs Roma (plum) tomatoes, cored and cut into pieces
2 carrots, peeled and coarsely chopped
1 rib of celery - leaves and all - cut into pieces
1 large onion, peeled and coarsely chopped
2 bunches of fresh basil
3 tbsp Kosher sor sea alt
150 ml (3/4 cup) extra virgin olive oil
4-6 clean 10-oz capacity mason jars and capsule screw caps*

Choose a wide, heavy-bottomed pot, with a tight fitting lid, and arm yourself with a sturdy wooden spoon: your best friend for the hours to come.

Wash all the vegetables and without drying them, place them - with the salt, basil and olive oil - in the pot (remember, it has to be big enough to hold everything). Place the pot on the fire and let the ingredients cook over a lively flame, covered. Once the tomatoes begin to fall apart and exude liquid, uncover and simmer, stirring occasionally, with patience.

We are preparing massive amounts of Pommarola these days, which make our cooking times average around 3-4 hours, but for the quantities listed above, you should be looking at no more than 1 1/2 hours.

When all the vegetables are soft, and the derived rich and soupy tomato sauce has taken on a deep color, sexy texture and delightful aroma, it will be time to take the pot off the stove.

The next step is the hardest work, so try to recruit helpers.

Crank the sauce through a food mill and occasionally discard the pulpy stuff. This is key, because otherwise during storage, the skins and seeds of the tomato – and all other vegetable discards – turn your pommarola bitter and oddly textured.

If the resulting sauce should appear too watery, cook it uncovered for an additional 20 minutes, to thicken. Test it: if a silky spoonful on a flat plate no longer gives off a large watery halo around the dollop, it's done.

Transfer the sauce at once into clean mason jars, scooping it with a ladle. Fill each leaving a 1/4" gap, and screw the lid on. Now place all the jars huddled together, and cover them with a warm wool or fleece blanket in a dimly lit room, away from drafts, overnight.

This rather mysterious-sounding procedure is the technique that guarantees pasteurization. Thanks to the heat, jars are hermetically sealed, and through natural vacuum, air is expelled. The result will be that the capsule in the lids of the jars will no longer "pop" when pressed down. If the capsule still pops, repeat pasteurization process with a new lid. Once the jars are vacuum sealed, they can be stored in your pantry for 10 to 13 months!

As active participant and valid helper, I get to take home part of the stash. This incredible bounty will last me a year, and I will use my pommarola with profuse abandon: to dress pasta, as a base for vegetable and meat stews, to make pizza, as a dip, or instead of ketchup on my burgers.

Also, since this sugo is already cooked, all I have to do on the day is pour some out in a serving bowl (any left over in the jar needs to be refrigerated), add my cooked and drained pasta al dente, a curl of butter and a generous hand of grated Parmigiano. Voilà, "pasta al sugo" - ready and steaming on the plate.

And every time I will open one of the little red jars in the middle of winter, I will close my eyes and smell the delightful aroma of these precious summer days.


*Safe and hygienic preserving is obtained by using new jars and special lids with soft rubber gaskets that ensure a "venting" effect during pasteurization, and that provide an effective, long-lasting vacuum seal. Furthermore, the paint must be suitable for contact with the foods on the inside. The jars and lids we use are The Quattro Stagioni line by the Italian manufacturer Bormioli. To learn more about the technical features visit the Bormioli website.

Summer escape - Villa Rucellai in Tuscany

We escaped. It was too hot and lonely in Rome.
I packed a light tote for Mr.E and myself, and we made for the country. As in Tuscany, where "pastoral" is as pretty as it gets.

Right now, as I finish posting this, friends are setting the table for dinner. The barbecue is on...


Rebecca is toasting bread for bruschetta (pronounced with a K)

The menu this evening will be: rosticciana - which is a lovely Tuscan word for 'pork spare ribs' - herb-rubbed chicken skewers, garden salad and homemade gelato.


I can't get enough of these scallions and vine-ripened tomatoes picked warm this morning in the vegetable garden.

So I halved and scooped-out some Roma tomatoes, and stuffed them with a little crushed tuna; the chopped pulp; and some diced celery, which I tossed with mayonnaise, before divvying up the mixture back in the tomato halves for our antipasto.

The air smells like burning firewood.
The swallows dance vast circles above our heads, and our swimming costumes are still dripping pool water, over there on the west-facing hedge.

Mr.E is in seventh heaven. He spends most of his time playing in the garden, digging up dirt, or climbing trees and plucking the juicy pears.


Look at that sunset...



...and the olive trees beneath the forest...

And what about this view of the main entrance?
Isn't it lovely?


Ducks paddling in their little spa pond...

...Geraniums sheltered by the shade of a cherry tree...

...and beauty as far as the eye can see...

Speaking of tomatoes, tomorrow my friends Selena, Rebecca, Lorenzo, with Mr.E and I (and the supervision of my mother) will begin the summer's production by cooking the first 5 gallons of Pommarola tomato preserves.
The following day, it will be fig marmalade. Depending on the yield, perhaps plum jam too.

Aperitivo is ready, I'm being summoned outside.
I have to go now...



...and I need to slip on a jumper, because it's getting chilly...

You say tomato, I say pomodoro

Nothing spells summer quite like a ripe, juicy tomato. As the warm season hits full swing in the northern hemisphere, the farmer's markets are overflowing with them and my recipe imagination goes skyrocketing.

And so I chop and slice my way to bliss for bruschetta topped with fine tomato salad & basil; beefsteak tomatoes sliced in alternate layers of milky Bufala mozzarella; halved, raw cherry tomatoes tossed with steaming pasta and a dollop of pesto; saucy pizza; Greek salad; tomatoes au gratin; Mexican pico de gallo salsa; 700 different pasta dressings; piquant Bloody Marys; soups... the combinations are boundless.


Let me take you on a walk through my virtual tomato orchard. Bring a sun hat. And a large basket.

Image copyright David Besa

Like the potato, bell pepper and eggplant, the tomato is a member of the nightshade family. Although the U.S. Supreme Court declared them a vegetable in 1893, tomatoes are actually a fruit. think about it: they are sweet and grow on a vine. They’re in season from May through October, with some variation depending on location.

The Aztecs called the tasty red fruit xitomatl, meaning 'plump thing with a navel,' which is such a sxy and appopriate name. Later it gained the designation of tomatl by other Mesoamerican peoples. By the time Columbus arrived to the New World, the tomato had made its way up from Peru into Central America and Mexico. The conquistadores carried plants back home from Mexico, but it took some time for pomodori to be accepted in Europe because it was thought that – like various other members of the nightshade family – they were poisonous. 

Some tomato advocates, however, claimed the fruit had aphrodisiac powers, so tomatoes were also horribly shunned by the Puritans. The Italian name is the fusion of the archaic term "pomo" for apple, and "d’oro," golden. A gilded apple. So as it turns out that the Apple of Discord, star of the epic Judgement of Paris that led to the Trojan War, was nothing but a ripe heirloom.

Thousands of tomato varieties are available today - ranging widely in size, shape and color. You may have only tasted glossy red tomatoes, but the sweet summer orbs come in all shades of crimson, white, yellow, pink, orange, green when fully mature, striped, mottled, fuzzy, brown and shiny deep purple.

Images copyright Gary Ibsen tomato expert, monger & lover

The larger types of tomatoes include heirloom and beefsteak. Heirloom varieties are very special because their cultivators have saved the seeds and passed them down through generations. They come in a range of measurements and trendy colors too — from the size of a marble to that of a grapefruit, from round to egg-shaped to apple and heart-shaped.

Among the most commonly marketed tomatoes in Italy are the Plum tomatoes (also called "Italian Plums" or “Paste tomatoes”) red or yellow and egg-shaped; they have fewer seeds than other cultivars, making them ideal for sauces.

San Marzano, known abroad as Roma tomatoes, are oblong red or green tomatoes. Also vastly used in the canning industry.

The small Sicilian tomatoes from Pachino are usually olive shaped. Sized 1 inch in diameter and can be red or yellow-gold in color. The distinctive tiny tail-like tip at the bottom and its terrific taste are a Pachino trademark.

The Vesuvian tomato is slightly larger than the cherry tomato and resembles a tiny egg. These toothsome tomatoes are grown on the slopes of the Campanian volcano and are among the most delicious tomatoes I have ever tasted.

Another curious tomato cultivar is the Tomate à Farcir, which is hollow on the inside.

Most Italian produce markets sell several other flavorful and larger heirloom tomato varieties. Among the most interesting, the Cuore di Bue, (cousins of the famed oxhearts). The skin of these large fruits is coral color and very tender, the firm flesh inside has very few seeds and is extremely sweet and best eaten raw.

Striped brandywine-type Pantano tomatoes have an orangey skin with green shoulder stripes. This fruit’s bi-color flesh is a brilliant red with a green center.

Casalini tomatoes, similar in shape to purple Calabash pleated tomatoes, have a bright red tough skin and tender flesh, and are shaped and ribbed like a miniature pumpkin. Having a sweet, rich, complex – almost addictive – taste, they are the best fruits to be used for the true Italian fresh tomato sauce recipe.

The most succulent, flavorful tomatoes are those that are vine-ripened, usually only available in local produce markets. Unfortunately, these are very perishable, which is why supermarkets almost always carry tomatoes that have been picked green and then ripened with ethylene gas or in special warming rooms. Such tomatoes will never have the texture, aroma and taste of the vine-ripened fruit.

Like when a styrofoam-esque production industry standard shows up on a menu. That for me is the kiss of death for any restaurant. Take one of the worlds most loved foods, and you serve the public something that only barely resembles the real thing? That tells me that the person buying the produce and designing the menu does not think that I, the consumer am worth a few cents more.

As we pick the warm, heavy fruits off the vine, let me tell you some nutrition facts. A medium-sized tomato contains no fat and 3 grams of sugar. They’re an excellent source of antioxidant vitamins A and C, and a good source of potassium, folate, vitamin B6 and thiamin, and contain appreciable amounts of iron and phosphorus. A medium tomato has about as much fiber as a slice of whole-wheat bread, and only about 35 calories. Many nutritionists promote tomatoes because of their high lycopene content. Lycopene is an antioxidant that studies have linked to helping reduce heart disease and cancer risks.

Back to the kitchen, it's getting too hot outside. You begin washing the dirt off the tomatoes. I'll get the chopping board and my good knife out.

I typically buy Casalini heirlooms for sauces, and funky colored tomatoes for special dishes; Pachino or cherry tomatoes by the pint to dip in hummus or slice and toss in a salad. The smaller varieties also work well for vegetable skewers or threaded with white meats for delicious kebabs. Gazpacho is another household favorite, but make sure you use plum tomatoes to have less seeds to deal with.



While roaming your farmer's market for tomatoes, be sure to choose firm, smooth and brightly colored ones without blemishes and bruises. Tomatoes store best at room temperature for several days; your refrigerator’s cold temperature kills the flavor and creates a mealy texture. Never set an unripe pomodoro in the sun either. To ripen up unready tomatoes, simply place them in a paper bag, punch a few small holes in the bag and drop in an apple. Let it sit for several days at room temperature (65° to 75°F). The ethylene gas emitted from the apple will help ripen the tomato.






A few tomato recipes to try:

Pomodori al Riso - Stuffed Tomatoes
Pezzogna all'Acqua Pazza
Friggione Dipping Sauce
Panzanella
Pappa al Pomodoro Soup

If you're still curious about tomatoes after reading this, here are some fun links:

• Read an interesting article on heirloom tomatoes here.
• Find comprehensive and practical on-line information on breeding tomatoes here.
• Snatch all the tips, info and photos you need to grow your own tomatoes here and here.
• Learn how to grow tomatoes upside-down here and here.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Tomato Trivia: Every August approximately 40,000 Spaniards gather in Buñol near Valencia to throw one hundred metric tons of over-ripe tomatoes at each other in the annual Tomatina festival. I can just see the bewilderment on the faces of the bare-chested tourists caught in the crossfire. Italy has a similar ancient food fight sister to Tomatina in its yearly Battaglia degli Aranci during the Ivrea carnival, where the ammo is constituted uniquely of ripe oranges.