Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well (34 page)

3 eggs

Put the milk on the fire with the butter and the sugar. When it starts to boil, add the semolina a little at a time, so that it does not make lumps. Keep on the fire until the semolina is quite firm, stirring constantly so that it does not stick to the bottom of the pan. Then remove from the fire, salt, and immediately add the first egg. Then, as you are about to fry, add the other two eggs, one at a time, the whites beaten stiff, stirring the mixture constantly with a wooden spoon. When you drop it into the skillet, shape the mixture into little nuggets that will balloon into the lightest puffs. After they have cooled a little, sprinkle the puffs with confectioners’ sugar. Remember to use a very low flame and to keep shaking the frying pan.

This is a very basic fry, but strange as it may seem, not everyone knows how to make it. In some places, they boil the artichokes before frying them, which is not a good idea. In others, they first cover them in batter. Not only is that not necessary, but it takes away their natural flavor. Here is the method used in Tuscany, which is the best. Tuscany is the region, where by dint of using and abusing fruits and vegetables as much as they do, they end up cooking them best.

As an example, take two artichokes, remove the tough outer leaves, trim off the sharp ends, cut off the stems, and slice in half. Then cut the artichoke halves into wedges, or to be more precise in slices,
about 8 to 10 of them for each artichoke, even if they are not particularly large. As you cut them up, toss them into cold water. When they are quite cold, take them out of the water and blot them or just squeeze dry, then dredge them immediately in flour which will stick well to them.

Beat the white of one egg until half-stiff, one egg being enough for two artichokes; then combine the yolk and the white, and salt. Put the artichokes in a colander to shake off the excess flour. Then drop them in the egg, stir and allow to sit a while until they absorb the egg. Place the pieces one at a time in a skillet sizzling with oil. When they have turned a nice golden color, take them out and send to the table with lemon wedges because, as everybody knows, lemon juice, when squeezed on all fried food except sweet things, always enhances their flavor and goes well with good wine. If you want the artichokes to remain white, it is best to sauté them in olive oil and squeeze a half lemon in the water in which you soak them.

Certain ladies complained they could not find this recipe in my book. Now they are satisfied.

Take two large artichokes, remove the tough leaves and scrape the stems. Then boil, but not for very long, and while they are steaming hot, cut each of them into five slices, keeping some of the stem. Season with salt and pepper.

Prepare a béchamel as follows:

30 grams (about 1 ounce) of flour

30 grams (about 1 ounce) of butter

20 grams (about 2/3 of an ounce) of grated Parmesan cheese

2 deciliters (about 4/5 of a cup) of milk

When you remove the sauce from the fire, fold in one egg yolk, the Parmesan cheese and a pinch of salt. Taking them one by one by the stem, dip the artichokes slices in the bechamel, and then arrange them on a platter. Use a spoon to cover the slices with the remaining
béchamel. After a few hours, when the artichokes are good and cold, brush them with a beaten egg, coat them in bread crumbs, and fry in olive oil or lard.

Just about everyone likes fried zucchini, and they lend themselves wonderfully to embellishing or accompanying other fried foods of every sort.

Take long, slender finger-length zucchini. Wash and cut lengthwise into slices about 1 centimeter (about 1/3 of an inch) thick. Remove part of the core and salt lightly. After an hour or two, drain off the water they have lost, and, without drying them further, roll them in flour. Then put them into a small colander to shake off any excess flour. Drop them right away in a skillet where a generous amount of olive oil or lard is sizzling. At first do not touch them or they may break. Only when they begin to firm up should you stir them with a slotted spoon and remove them from the pan when they start to brown.

They may also be prepared like artichokes in a baking pan, as described in recipe 246. In that case you have to cut them in thick round slices and otherwise you prepare them as if for frying.

These zucchini will turn out better and more impressive than the ones in the preceding recipe. Take large, thick zucchini that you cannot grasp in one hand. Peel them to make the dish more handsome. Split lengthwise into two halves and remove that part of the core containing the seeds. Then slice into long thin strips, as wide as a good-sized finger. Sprinkle them with salt so they will throw off their water and leave them for a few hours. When you arc ready to fry them, pick them up in both hands and squeeze vigorously to get rid of any remaining water. Then toss in flour, separating the strips with your fingers. Place in a colander to shake off any excess flour, and toss immediately into a skillet with plenty of oil.

This dish, too, is difficult to make well if you have not seen it prepared. I will try to describe it, but I cannot guarantee you will understand me. These little cakes were taught to me under the name of
beignets
(French for fritters), but their shape suggests they should be more properly called little rings, and as such I offer them to you.

In a saucepan heat 180 grams (about 6-1/3 ounces) of water, a nut-size butter pat, two teaspoons of sugar and a pinch of salt. When the liquid begins to boil, stir in 120 grams (about 4-1/4 ounces) of flour, adding it all at once so that no clumps form, and stirring immediately with a wooden spoon. Remove from the fire shortly thereafter, and while the mixture is still steaming hot, add an egg, stirring vigorously until totally blended. Then, once the mixture has cooled, add two more eggs at separate intervals, continuing to stir vigorously with a mixing spoon until the dough has a smooth consistency. You will know when you have reached this point by the action of the mixing spoon itself, which leaves behind a thin veil of dough over the bubbles it creates as you stir. Add a dash of vanilla and sprinkle some flour on the pastry board over which you will pour the dough. Knead the dough with your hands (also coated with flour), ensuring that the dough incorporates enough flour to become manageable while remaining quite soft.

Divide the dough into 16 to 18 sections, forming nuggets not much larger than walnuts. Make a hole through the middle of each nugget, by pushing your finger through the dough until it touches the pastry board, and then rotating the nugget upon itself. Then flip the nuggets over and repeat the operation on the other side so that the hole becomes large enough and nicely shaped. In this way your nuggets turn into little rings. Put a wide pot of water on the fire, and when it is quite hot but not boiling, drop in the rings three or four at a time. If they stick to the bottom of the kettle, free them gently with a slotted spoon. Turn them over, and when they start floating to the surface, drain them and place on a kitchen towel. Then, with the point of a knife, make an incision or two in each of them, all the way around, both on the inside and outside, so that they will puff up better.

At this point you can let them sit for a few hours, if you want to.
Fry them over a low flame in plenty of lard or olive oil, constantly shaking the skillet. They turn out well when you see them swell up to an extraordinary size, while remaining dry. While still hot but no longer steaming, sprinkle them with confectioners’ sugar and serve. And the undersigned hopes that delicious and shapely as they are, they will be enjoyed by discerning palates and lovely young ladies. So be it.

100 grams (about 3-1/2 ounces) of flour

a nut-size pat of butter

milk, as much as needed

Form a dough that is neither too firm nor too soft, kneading it well with your hands on a pastry board, and spread out into a sheet as thick as a large coin. Cut into small lozenge shapes, fry in lard or olive oil and you will see them puff up. These pastries turn out tender and delicate tasting.

You will then have a batch of little damsels, which should be sprinkled with confectioners’ sugar after they have begun to cool.

These are trifling fritters, but they may be used instead of bread as a side dish for grilled meat.

2 kipfels

2 deciliters (about 4/5 of a cup) of milk

20 grams (about 2/3 of an ounce) of sugar

Remove the tips from the
kipfels
and cut into little rounds 1 centimeter (about 1/2 an inch) thick. Put the milk on the fire with the sugar, and when the milk starts to boil, pour it over the
kipfels
, drenching them but not excessively. When they have cooled off, dip them in two beaten eggs, coat in bread crumbs and fry. For ladies who are easily pleased,
kipfels
may be served as a dessert, provided you add some vanilla and sprinkle them with confectioners’ sugar once they are done.

Take 20 small macaroons, soak them briefly in rum or cognac, but do not let them become too soft. Dip them in the batter described in recipe 156—the amounts given there should do for our purposes here. Then fry in lard, butter or olive oil. Sprinkle lightly with confectioners’ sugar and serve hot.

This is not the kind of desert to send you into raptures and make you ask for more, but it will do in a pinch.

What a strange language they speak in learned Bologna!

They call carpets rags; wine flasks gourds; sweetbreads milks. They say “sigare” for “piangere” (to weep), and they call an unsavory, ugly, annoying woman, who would normally be termed a “calia” or a “scamonea” a “sagoma” (Italian for silhouette and, figuratively speaking, a funny person). In their restaurants you find “trefoils” (instead of truffles), Florentine style “chops” (instead of “steaks”), and other similar expressions that would drive anybody mad. It was there that, I think, the term “batteries” was devised to describe harness races, and where “zone” is used to mean a tram route. When I first heard the Bolognesc mention a crescent, I thought they were talking about the moon. Instead they were discussing the schiacciata or focaccia, the ordinary fried dough cake that everybody recognizes and all know how to make. The only difference is that the Bolognese, to make theirs more tender and digestible, add a little lard when mixing the flour with cool water and salt.

It seems the schiacciata will puff up better if you drop it in a skillet
where the fat is sizzling, but which you have removed from the fire.

The Bolognese are, in any case, an active, industrious, friendly and hospitable people, and one speaks freely with the men, as well as the women, because their candid manner of conversation is quite engaging. If I had to judge in these matters, I would hold that this is the hallmark of a people’s general civility and good manners, and not at all like what one encounters in certain other cities whose inhabitants are of an altogether different character.

In one of his tales, Boccaccio, speaking of the Bolognese, exclaims: “Ah, how singularly sweet is the blood of Bologna! How admirably you rise to the occasion in such moments as these (moments of love)! Sighs and tears were never to your liking: entreaties have always moved you, and you were ever susceptible to a lover’s yearnings. If only I could find words with which to commend you as you deserve, I should never grow tired of singing your praises!”
⁴¹

Why they are called “crescioni” and not spinach fritters, I have no idea. I know that the spinach is cooked as it normally is, that is, without water, then squeezed well and coarsely chopped into a soffritto of olive oil, garlic, parsley, salt and pepper. Then it is seasoned with a little concentrated must
⁴²
and raisins, from which the seeds have been removed. If you do not have any must or raisins, you may substitute sugar and dried grapes. Then the spinach, seasoned in this fashion, is wrapped in the crazy dough described in recipe 153, which has been moistened with a few drops of olive oil, rolled out into a thin sheet and cut into rounds about the size of the one shown on the following page.