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.

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.

Vitello Tonnato recipe

Some simplify and make this typical Piemontese summer dish with mayonnaise, but the true recipe doesn't call for it. I don’t know what this digression comes from, as there is nothing mayo-like in the original preparation of the exquisite veal delicacy. The egg, perhaps.

A little bit complex but rarely a disappointment, authentic vitello tonnato is made with:

1 kg (2.2 lb) "girello" roast, or boned veal (rump cut)
500 g (1 lb) white onions, thinly sliced
1/2 bouillon cube
150 g (7/8 cup) good quality canned tuna, drained of excess oil (not the water packed kind!)
1 egg yolk, hard-boiled
5 pickled capers + a pinch more for garnishing, rinsed
Dry white wine
Extra virgin olive oil

Heat the meat in a stew pot, searing it in oil for a few minutes, or until evenly browned. Add the onion and the 1/2 stock cube, and cook until the onions are translucent. Pour in the wine, reduce the heat to a low flame and braise covered, adding more wine if necessary (if the meat looks dry). Do not salt!

After about 30 minutes, check for doneness by poking the roast with a fork, if the meat is tender, it's done. Should the resulting juices be too liquid, fish out the roast and set aside. Raise the heat and reduce the onion sauce to a dense gravy-like texture.

In a food processor, blend the tuna (hence the 'no salt' part), egg yolk, capers and the onion gravy into a thick cream.

When the veal has cooled, carve it thinly across the grain and arrange the slices on a large platter (you want one layer). Slather the creamy tuna sauce over the sliced meat, covering it completely; and garnish with more capers (just a few). Cover with plastic wrap and chill before serving.

From the refrigerator, also produce a frosty bottle of Dolcetto di Dogliani and go crazy.









Appendix
I knew what I was getting into as I was typing the words 'veal' and 'tuna' in the same sentence. Trouble.

I don't know if Italian calves face the same horrid death they do overseas. But this particular meat is very much part of the Italian diet; and being faithful to my pledge to blog about authentic Italian dishes, I felt I could not overlook this fact.

Tuna is still angled with "tonnare," a brutal death chamber-style technique in which often porpoises and other marine species get caught by mistake. I'm not a defender of the practice, I cringe at the mere idea and I find it cruel.

But I am an omnivore. And I actually love the taste of vitello tonnato described here. Paradoxical.

My intent was the usual one, entice palates, share my recipes and tell a little of Italy's eating habits. Never to offend, disgust or perturb my non veal/tuna-eating readers. 

Please accept my heartfelt apologies if I have.