Kitchen
Movie Mondays: Eating at ‘My Friends’ in Sicily
No. There is no grammatical error in the title of this post. That is what Amici Miei means in Italian, and in this restaurant tucked away behind the stone walls in Piazza Armerina, that is exactly the kind of reception you will receive: the comforting greeting of friends. Upon walking into the restaurant, you are not a customer, but a long-lost acquaintance, returning to find good friends in a familiar place.
The three key players at Amici Miei have succeeded in conducting culinary orchestral masterpieces. Owners Andrea and Sonia have created a wonderful dinning experience that not only showcases Sicilian cuisine, but also the specialties around the Enna province. Most people salivate over seafood platters and other marine specialties when they think of Sicily’s kitchen. But they are missing the local honey and aged ricotta cheese, the cavatti and pistachio, the roasted lamb and potatoes, and the exquisite semifreddo di torroncino: a cool nougat covered with rich dark chocolate. Simone – head chef and fundamental to the final product – creates the perfect medleys of local products, fashioning them into symphonies that are music to the mouth.
Andrea, Sonia and Simone have also created an atmosphere as delicious as their menu. At Amici Miei, you are with friends. There are no stuffy shirts, no fancy dress, no lead crystal chandeliers. What you find are warm 100-year-old limestone walls, friendly staff and that comforting Sicilian hospitality that I can never get enough of. At Amici Miei, the ambiance is jovial and upbeat so the patrons can enjoy what is honestly a good time with good friends and good food.
Thanks to the folks at Amici Miei for letting me film their beautiful establishment. Thanks again to Peter and Susan for letting me use their sound bites. And thanks especially to a little-known musician from Canada (“Steely Dee”) for the background music. I hope you enjoy the video.
Video is here since YouTube has decided not to cooperate with me this afternoon.
Modica: when in need of “Bonajuto”
The Antica Dolceria Bonajuto in Modica, Sicily is reputedly the oldest chocolate shop on the island. Pomegranate Journeys recently scheduled a visit of the Bonajuto chocolate laboratory during a pedal-through last week and the results were rich and delicious. There really isn’t anything better to help you up the hills on Pomegranate’s Sicily Bike Adventure than some raw chocolate and a cupful of Xocolic – their chocolate liqueur. It’s no surprise then that “Bonajuto” means “good help.”
But it’s also the name of the founder of the chocolate laboratory. In 1880, Franceso Bonajuto followed in his father’s footsteps and opened up a cake shop, which over the years has won critical acclaim with professionals in the sweet field. Of course, all of Bonajuto’s treats come from deeply rooted traditions native to Modica.
A few months ago I posted on Ragusa, and Modica is simply 15 kilometers to the south and equally as beautiful. The first
documentation of Modica comes from Roman documents dating to the year 212 B.C. They describe a village called “Motyka” which was defiant to Roman rule (as most Sicilians still are today). It was in 844 A.D. that Modica began to flourish agriculturally after the Arab conquest of the island. Then in the fourteenth century, Sicily passed under Spanish rule for a few hundred years. Like the rest of the island, Modica has been consecutively conquered by different nations. However, it’s within this “layering” of foreign nations over thousands of years that Modica retains its own rich traditions and culture.
Thus the aranciata and cedrata are sweets of Arab origin with orange peel and citron, purified with water to remove alcohol and then baked with honey. The orange and citron have the consistency of nougat and should be eaten in slivers. Meanwhile the ‘Mpanatigghi (the cookies you’ll see in this video) are biscuits typical to the city of Modica and were introduced by the Spaniards in the sixteenth century. The local name of these biscuits is probably derived from the Spanish empanadas-empadillas, where the unusual combination of meat and chocolate is frequently used in Spanish cuisine. In past centuries game meat were used for the preparation of ‘Mpanatigghi; these days beef sirloin is employed since it is less sinuous and easily acquired.
Regardless, Bonajuto needs no help in the chocolate department. This visit was one of a number of great discoveries along a magnificent bike adventure through Southern Sicily.
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A Bicerin in Torino: Not your Everyday Latte
To most people, Italy has enough coffee. In fact there’s the caffè lungo and corto, the caffè corretto and stretto, caffè machiato, americano, caffè latte and caffè d’orzo and – of course – the quintessential cappuccino, just to name a few. To the many folks who come from the land of “shots,” “grandes” and “Frappuccinos,” I can understand how this can all be very mystifying. Yet the next time you are in an Italian coffee house (or simply, caffè), remember that you may just be touching the bean when it comes to Italian coffee.
Just as most regions in Italy have their own cuisine, many also have their own local version of coffee. In Torino, for example, the Bicerin (pronounced /bee-sure-ean/) is a beverage you can only find in the coffee houses of Fiat’s native city. It’s a combination of coffee, foamed whole milk and chocolate – another local specialty. More interesting still is the history behind the drink, and the historical figures who used to drink it (and those important figures who still do today). Apparently the beverage came about in the early 1800s – although some reports date it to the 1700s – from another coffee house in Torino the Café della Bicerin: a few blocks away from where I made the film below. If you consider the drink was already popular by the time Torino became the first capital of Italy in 1861, chances are personalities like Cavour were drinking bicerin in 19th century Torino.
Often times it’s not just the coffee you drink that’s important, but where you drink it. In the case of Baratti and Milano, they have been making chocolates and coffee for well over 150 years. The architecture is reminiscent of the Italian Risorgimento, and the coffee house’s interior is stunningly beautiful. It’s no wonder the upper-class Italian bourgeois would meet here in the 1800s and discuss Italy’s political future. It’s true that at times a coffee is just a coffee. Yet at times it’s also a step back in time to taste the savors of another century. When drinking a bicerin at a historic Italian bar, it suddenly becomes an experience beyond just coffee: it’s cultural engagement.
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One of Milan’s Culinary Secrets
The other night I had dinner with my friend Pandy (yes, his real name). We were eating local fare while discussing the delights of Italian regional cooking. Having sampled many of the world’s cuisines, we wondered why Italian food was so good. I believe that one of the reasons why so many people enjoy Italian cooking is for its simplicity: with basic ingredients (and a lot of attention), Italian cuisine is not only delicious but also easy to replicate in the kitchen. While other ethnic delicacies are equally tasty, the dishes sometime seem more elaborate. They either take a longer preparation time or contain extremely exotic ingredients. In some other cultures, I find the natural flavors of the food are drowned in sauces and gravies – all equally delicious, but unfortunately too strong and overpowering to allow the palate to savor the real essence of the main attraction.
One of the possible keys to Italian cooking’s success may be its history of being a “commoner’s” meal during the early decades of the last century. Granted, not every Italian dish comes from the table of poverty, but in many regions, the dishes that were considered “lower-class” almost a hundred years ago are now the ones being revisited and brought to the tables of some of the most demanding kitchens. Take for example the Cassöla Milanese. It consists of kraut, carrots, beans and every part possible of a pig (sausage, ribs, sides, flank and especially le puntine – the smaller ribs) boiled in a pot for hours. If ever I were to make a counter argument to the vegetarian blog I posted about a week ago, this would be it. Cassöla comes from a time when food was scarce and precious: the less glorious bits of meat and semi-rotten vegetables were thrown into a pot and boiled forever to preserve them for as long as possible. Of course today’s Cassöla is made with fresh vegetables and meat and is every bit as delicious as you can imagine. There are no preservatives or chemicals, just good wholesome fats and proteins. On a winter’s evening this soup ignites the soul and the taste buds. Add a few glasses of delicious medium-bodied Valtellina and you have the perfect meal.
Another wonderful characteristic of this dish (as is typical of many local Italian dishes) is its uniquely regional name. The Cassöla is a dish you can only find around Milan and in Lombardy and thus its dialectal name specifies its geographic originality. It makes me think of the Cassoulet from southwest France, specifically near the area of Carcassone. The Cassoulet is also a boiling of beans, vegetables and meat (usually duck and sausage) in terracotta pots. I wouldn’t be surprised if their etymology has some connection. And it wouldn’t surprise me if the Anglo-Saxon “Cassarole” initially served the same purpose of boiling and mixing into a large pot or pan. Wherever the name comes from, a Cassöla by any other name wouldn’t be quite the same. There is no other way to pronounce it as there is no other place to eat it. A wonderful name from a wonderful region – unlike my friend, who should really consider changing his.
Where’s the Beef?
I couldn’t imagine life without meat. In fact, I’m a carnivore all throughout the year: in the fall I enjoy steak tartare with a lovely raw egg dropped on top, and in the winter it’s Canederli (a dumpling from Tirol with potatoes, spinach and speck) and lamb chops. Summer has its veal scallopine and there’s always the spring chicken. I grew up in a household where meat was at the center of our table: meatballs (the world’s best – I’ll put the recipe to a challenge), chicken parm and steak braciole (strips of meat simmered in their ow
n juices). Now during the active seasons (cycling summers and skiing winters) I need to eat more. And by more I mean beef. Which is why I’ve never been able to understand (or maybe I haven’t wanted to understand) the vegan question: how can you get all the proteins you need without the beef (and the taste)? And then I met Christie, who muscled her way though an entire ski season remaining very faithful to her vegan roots, and my question was answered. Now she’s started her own blog with excellent ideas on how to nourish and care for the body without any animal product. Very often after a week of heavy eating on a trip (fois gras, magret de cannard, trippa, gnocchi – all foods I love but can’t love for a week) I need to flush the liver and so I turn vegetarian/quasi vegan for a week or two. Christie’s blog is helpful since it gives me all of the non-bovine options that I would not have otherwise considered. Sure, I could google a few possibilities but I know how dedicated Christie is to treating herself well and so I like reading what she’s eating. Plus the pictures are top rate – and she takes them all herself. She’s only just started to put up a few recipes, but again the im
ages are enough to get the creative cooking juices flowing (I mean, check out this fruit!).
Its always good to have alternative eating habits and Christie’s ideas give me just that in the kitchen. Of course I still like to have my steak and eat it too, but every once and a while I allow myself to indulge in some Asian Kelp Noodle Stir Fry or Homemade Granola. And then tomorrow I’ll go back to my Kabab.