Bologna

           This past Friday, I traveled to Bologna with my art history class to see various museums, churches, and monuments that were made by women or depicted women in early Christian art to the late renaissance. I even saw the preserved body of the first female artist: a nun who insisted upon her own literacy, artistic ability, and the opportunity to teach other women her skills. It was a fascinating experience. But along with all the fantastic museums, there was simply Bologna itself and what a city it was. Bologna is similar to Florence in that it is a busy, lived in city. However, it is more colorful, less touristy, more laid back, and has a modern flare mixed in with the old-world charm. Peach, pink, red, yellow, orange: the colors of the houses lined the streets in such a cheerful way that I often found myself tripping over my own feet due to the fact that I was constantly looking up. Additionally the shopping seemed absolutely amazing (not that I had any time to stop at any of the stores while I was practically running to keep up with my art History teacher, Helen who was always racing ahead at the speed of light). Small artisan shops, local designers, the big brands, everything you could want, it was there, and the food was fabulous. Unfortunately, we did not have time to stop and have a real Bolognese meal and I left the list of good places to go in Bologna in my apartment, but we did stop at a self service place and I had some scrumptious tortelloni (large tortellini) and roasted vegetables. What really got me, though were the streets filled with fresh produce, fish, meat, and poultry. There were also the most amazing bakeries filled with cakes, pies, tarts, and hundreds of delectable baked goods. I wanted to buy it all, but I didn’t think the next 5 churches and museums we visited would be storing my raw produce at the bag check (I mean, I really would have). After a long day of walking, museum/church hopping, and torture in the form of walking past every single food/clothing store I would ever want to go into, I decided to treat myself to another one of Bologna’s more famous treats: a really really really good cup of gelato hand-made at la Cremeria Funivia. Chocolato e pistacchio: Hands down, it was the best ice cream/gelato I have ever had. Plus it was in a cone (I prefer licking ice cream because it helps me eat it slower). 

          I think it is safe to say that on my own time, I will definitely be returning to bologna for a day of walking around, shopping, and amazing food. Here are some images from the day. Ciao! 

1 of 4 siren women holding up this very fertile fountain

Just one of many well designed shop windows

I fiori

Una Chiesa

Other flowers on the street

Pistacchio e Chiocolato

A must if you are ever in  Bologna

Bologna is famous for its cured meats and cheeses

Una Pescheria

Le Verdure

Where we stopped for lunch

La Migliore Colazione (The Best Breakfast)

          Florence is full of great fashion and not so great fashion. The latter is usually due to the amount of tourists walking around in sneakers, elastic-waist shorts, and fanny packs. My Italian fashion design class has taken us through the most fantastic italian fashion from the start of Italian fashion (tailors custom-making clothes by hand) to present day italian couture and ready to wear. Our assignments consist of using the first collections of these early designers as inspiration for five or six contemporary looks in a collection. We also keep a fashion journal in which we sketch ideas, paste pictures and write. How does this relate to food? The other day, I was looking for inspiration and I noticed that the VOGUE Italia haute couture limited edition plus the latest avant-garde September issue was out. I have never purchased a vogue in the US let alone one in Italy but I decided now was my time. I ran into the shop bought my five euros worth of fashion photography and articles and walked out towards the mercato. That day I bought only two things from the market: a cup of coffee and a cannoli. As I walked home with my vogue clutched under my arm and my coffee and cannoli in the other, I could not have felt more alive (it’s weird I know, but the things that get me going are food, fashion, caffeine, and walking alone in cities). And so when I got to my apartment, I sat out on the terrace with my coffee, my cannoli, and my vogue. Food, fashion, fabulous: it was the best breakfast I have had thus far. ciao!

La Pizza

4 Stagioni

          Pizza was one of the main foods I was most excited to sink my teeth into here in Florence. Everywhere you look there are signs advertising pizza and I didn’t want to just get some cheap, touristy pizza that was all thrills and no real, Italian flavor. Therefore, I hesitated until I was absolutely sure I would be one hundred percent satisfied. Well, it was worth the wait. The other night I went to a local Osteria known for their pizza and their seafood. As we walked in, the aroma hit. It is the best feeling when you can walk into a restaurant and know right away what you want to order because you can smell it. As we walked to our table, we passed numerous locals enjoying the most scrumptious looking pastas, pizzas, and seafood dishes the one could imagine and even though I knew I was going to get pizza, I was certain it was going to be a difficult decision. By the time we ordered, all of us were so upset because instead of thinking about what we did order, all we could think of was everything we didn’t. Our pizzas arrived scalding hot and paper thin. Northern Italy is famous for its paper-thin crust. The thinness allows the entire pizza to be cooked very quickly in an extremely hot, wood-burning oven so that the dough is crunchy, slightly burnt, the cheese is melted, and the toppings are hot, yet still fresh. MERAVIGLIOSO! I ordered the Quattro stagioni (4 seasons), which consisted of pretty much everything a person could imagine: prosciutto, olive, pepperone (peppers), carcioffi (artichokes), pomodori (tomatoes), potate, and mushrooms all over a bed of fontina cheese. From the moment the hot, salty, flavors hit my tongue and dripped down my chin I was sold. However, I did not have the best pizza at the table. The best pizza by far was my friend Hallie’s frutti di mare pizza (fruit of the sea). When it arrived my jaw dropped to the floor. It was basically the bottom of the ocean spread out on top of a pizza. Whole mussels and clams in their shells, fresh squid, scallops, and an entire prawn all on top of a beautiful marinara salsa. It was salty, fresh, and tasted like the ocean. It was quintessential good tuscan cooking. I am sure there is better pizza in Florence, but even so, it was the best pizza experience I have ever had. 

Frutti di Mare (sorry about the quality)

A prawn...on a pizza!

La Cena Bianca

Last week, some of my friends and I attended La Cena Bianca (the White Dinner). We received an invitation through our school and decided it was right up our ally. The concept is a communal dinner where everyone wears all white, brings their own food, drinks, and eating utensils, and enjoys an evening of food, friends, fashion, and community. It took place in the middle of a street right next to the Duomo. Round, white tables adorned with candles lined the road of chattering, white-clad florentines. It was definitely a sight to behold. And of course, at an all white event, one must have a hint of color so on each table, there were three red flowers laid out without a vase: the epitome of simple elegant taste. Speaking of taste, my little group decided to have a picnic-style meal. I went to the market earlier that day and bought, two different types of bread (Toscana and foccacia), Tuscan boar salami, two cheeses, roasted peppers, marinated olives, dates, grapes, good olive oil, a good bottle of wine, and my first food related splurge: a small jar of the best, creamiest, simplest artichoke paté I have ever had (plus it came in the prettiest little jar with a terracotta sun on the front). It was a feast.  These picnics are my favorite meals. The very nature of ripping off a piece of bread, passing pieces of cheese and slices of salami, reaching across the table for the bottle of olive oil: it all exudes a social atmosphere in which you feel that you are sharing both a meal and a bit of yourself with those you are dining with. About halfway through the meal, a woman approached our table and asked if we were the “American students.” When we confirmed this statement, she was honored, and thrilled that we were there. It turns out that she was one of the people who started the event a few years ago in hopes of making the Florence community a welcome one. Our little table of five was the first group of American students to attend La Cena Bianca and for the first time, I felt like I was really living in Florence: mission accomplished. In a nutshell, the meal, the evening, the conversation was a little bit of this, and a little bit of that and in my opinion, it was a little bit of perfection.  

my plate

La cena perfetta

Salami dal mercato

La Cena Bianca with the duomo in the background

            

Pollo Saltimbocca

First of all, let me apologize for the delay. Believe it or not, it is quite difficult to keep a regular blog when you are taking four studio classes, an art history class, have to shop, cook, and get a decent sleep, and are trying to see all there is to see in a new, fantastic city. Not that I am at all complaining!! 

            Anyway, I left off telling you about the night I made Chicken Saltimbocca. Chicken Saltimbocca is a classic recipe that involves some variation of cutlets of chicken pounded flat and rolled up with prosciutto and other ingredients. For mine, I decided that it would be lovely to have a mixture of spinach, ricotta, and parmigiano reggiano. Of course I got the chicken breasts at the mercato and had the butcher cut and pound the cutlets for me. Before preparing the chicken, I made a few little appetizers for my housemates and I to munch on. I fried some fiori di zucchine (zucchini flowers) in a light batter of flower, salt, pepper, and egg, and also made a miniature version of a classic Italian lunch: mozzarella in carrozza. It is basically Italian grilled cheese. You take a nice thick slice of fresh mozzarella, a hefty slice of fresh tomato, secure it between two pieces of bread with a toothpick, soak the whole thing in egg, and pan grill it until the egg is cooked, the bread is soft, and the mozzarella is oozing out of the sides. It is heaven in a sandwich. I made my mini ones with slices of baguette. Getting back to the main dish, after laying out the cutlets and seasoning them with salt and pepper, I placed a thin slice of prosciutto di parma on each one. With my mouth already watering, I then mixed thawed frozen spinach, a decent amount of ricotta (fresh from the market), and a generous amount of parmigiano in a large mixing bowl. I spread that mixture over the prosciutto and chicken and then rolled each one into a little bundle of salty, chickeny, goodness and secured them with a toothpick. As a side note, I have been reading Julia Child’s “My Life in France” and it has been one of the most entertaining books I have ever read. One thing she said really stuck with me when I was preparing this dish. She was talking about how before meeting her teacher at Le Cordon Bleu, she over-spiced her cooking and thought that by doing so, she was adding flavor. This she realized,  is not good cooking. Good cooking is knowing how to make a chicken really taste like chicken. And so with that in mind, I simply seared my saltimbocca on each side to brown before adding a simple sauce of low sodium chicken broth, white wine, and lemon juice. I let that reduce for about ten minutes before serving it hot, right over the chicken. Although I am sure Mrs. Child could have done a far better job, I was for the first time conscious and aware of each ingredient I was cooking with and how each of them would contribute to the culmination of flavors in the dish.  And so I left the dinner table with a full stomach, and a great sense of accomplishment.            

            

I fiori di Zucchine

Mozzarella in Carrozza 

A perfect roll

Chicken Saltimbocca

Osteria Santo Spirito

          Being that until this point, the majority of my posts have been about food I have made myself, I thought I would change it up a little bit with a lovely restaurant I found on the other side of the bridge called Osteria Santo Spirito located in piazza Santo Spirito.  To be honest, finding good, local restaurants that are not over-priced, touristy, and Americanized has been a bit of a challenge on my side of the bridge. However, the Santo-Spirito area is full of local, quaint, trattorie, osterie, and fiaschetterie, not to mention great shops, bars, and gardens. And so on Friday, after a long afternoon of thrift shopping, walking around, window shopping, and picture taking, my friends and I stumbled upon this osteria and were immediately satisfied. It was a late lunch so we didn’t eat a full meal, but we will definitely be going back to do so in the near future if not for the meal then surely for the bread and olive paté the came beforehand. It was simply divine. Without question the best bread I have eaten at a restaurant in Florence thus far and nothing beats good bread, good olive oil, salt, and pepper…oh and of course the olive paté. needless to say, the first impressions were good. The location was great for people watching as well. As we sat outside surrounded by locals walking their dogs, whizzing by on vespas, hanging laundry from lines outside of their windows, and enjoying an afternoon caffé, it really felt like Italy. After a gorgeous salad with gorgonzola and a wonderful glass of their own red wine, I was smiling from ear to ear. I can't wait to go back.

         I couldn’t stay out of the kitchen for too long. Last night I was back to chopping, straining, rolling, and reducing all to make a scrumptious meal of chicken saltimbocca. Stay tuned! 

Hallie's Salad

Tuscan bread with olive oil and Balsamic Vinegar of Modena

Olive paté 

                                         

La Pesca

In Italy, all fruit and vegetables are seasonal, so you know that what you are buying, especially when it is from the market, is as fresh and local as it gets. Right now, the peaches are in and they are indescribably good. The one I had this morning was particulary juicy and ripe and as I sunk my teeth into its colorful flesh, my knees buckled…Hello, have you met my love affair? Yeah, it’s food.  

If I do say so myself

          One thing I have learned from both my mother and my grandma Tet is that no recipe is set in stone. Improvisation is the best skill in the kitchen and it has become my general approach to cooking. That is not to say that a good recipe should not be followed and read through carefully, but it simply goes with the Italian notion of using what you have, making it work, and being creative, passionate, and original with food. Wednesday night was a perfect example. One of my favorite childhood dishes was roasted sausage, peppers, and onions. It is a simply divine combination of Italian flavors. The sweetness of the onions as they caramelize balances the saltiness of the sausage in a way that leaves your taste buds so satisfied that they barely know what to do when they get hold of the roasted pepper! I was prepared to make this dish just like my mother had taught me so many times yet there was one problem: it was 8pm, everything was closed, and I had no onions. So I decided to change the dish a little bit. Instead of sausage, peppers and onions, I made sausage, a singular yellow pepper, and fennel. I remembered that I had purchased a beautiful bulb of fennel 2 days earlier and was planning to make braised fennel but I thought that when roasted, the fennel would really complement the flavor of the sausage in a different way than onions did, changing the dish completely. I combined two different fennel recipes and ended up sautéing everything  individually before putting it into a baking dish just so that all of the ingredients could have a nice brown, crispy bite. I sautéed the fennel in butter of course and added it to the pan with loads of fresh dill and a generous amount of white wine. It was phenomenal if I do say so myself (my grandmother use to always say this after complementing her creativity in cooking) and I was definitely pleased to have put a new spin on a dish I grew up on. 

Sausage, fennel, yellow pepper, and dill
roasted in olive oil and white wine.

Giorni Pieno di...Tutto!

          As I have said, my days here in Florence start early, and end late. Just for an example, I started my day on Wednesday by waking up, going across town to get art supplies for my interior design class, going to a historic gourmet food store for…well, I don’t know exactly but I ended up getting mustard and sausage, then going to the mercato centrale, then eating breakfast at home all before 10:30am. promptly at 11am, I met up with my Women and the Arts in Italy class in the Piazza Signoria for a tour of the palazzo Vecchio, an early medici palzzo home to fabulous frescos, paintings, and sculptures depicting women and other subjects. Afterwards, I had thirty minutes to eat a quick panino and go across town to my painting class, where we spent the whole time studying landscapes in the Boboli Gardens and sat in the same places that hundreds of famous artists have sat before me to depict their own versions of the breathtaking florentine views. Was I finished? Of course not! I then had to meet my interior design class over the Ponte Vecchio for a private tour of three of Salvatore Ferragamo’s luxury hotels in Florence (of course I had an outfit change ready in my backpack…I was not going to a fashion icon’s hotel looking like an art student). The hotels were full of original sketches, famous pieces of art, fabulous restaurants, and impecably designed interiors (courtesy of Michele Bonan). The last hotel we visited was actually a residence with mini apartments for the long-term travelers. These fantastic rooms complete with kitchens and terraces can be yours for a mere 1,200 euro per night. I was able to get back to the apartment at 7:30 with enough energy to make dinner. Stay tuned for my creation! 

Bottles of olive oil line the shelves of a Ferragamo Restaurant.
Since olive oil tends to collect at the bottom over time,
the bottles are actually filled with different shampoos.

Rape of the Sabine Women by Giambologna
one of the most dynamic sculptures of all time.     

Aglio e Olio

 

The basic Aglio e olio recipe, but with zucchine,
pepperone arrostiti (roasted peppers), salame,
and basilico

          As one can only imagine after a long day of classes, grocery shopping, dealing with the inevitable cell phone problem, and of course walking everywhere, starting to cook a big, complex meal is sometimes the last thing I want to do when I get home at 7:45pm (all of my classes end at 7:30). Although it is very European to eat late, 8:30-9 is when I start winding down my evening…not eat a meal. At Skidmore, my friends and I will often eat as early as 5 or 5:30, which would be a sin here of course (you can always tell that people are tourists when they are sitting outside of a trattoria eating a full meal at 6pm). Nonetheless, I have pulled through yet again with this simple, Italian dish that is a crowd pleaser and one of the first pasta dishes I ever made on my own. Aglio e olio (garlic and oil) is the quintessential italian comfort food. I mean, it is hot pasta with garlic, oil, and maybe some bread crumbs if you so desire. what more could you need? It was perfect for me as a child because I loved the fact that it had no vegetables and it is perfect for me now because it is so basic that I can easily add vegetables!  I take take the basic aglio-olio recipe (olive oil and garlic) and expand upon it with various combinations of chopped vegetables, roasted peppers, olives, or whatever I have in the fridge. These simple dishes have saved me time, money, and are an easy way to enjoy the flavors of Italy without slaving over the stove (not that there is anything wrong with that!). I usually pare my quick meals with a lovely salad of fresh rucola (arugula) drizzled with a tangy lemon/Dijon mustard/shallot dressing (one of my favorite flavor combinations), and shavings of parmigiano reggiano. The bitterness and peppery taste of the fresh rucola is balanced perfectly by the sweet acidity of the lemon, the nutty, smoky flavor of the mustard, and the garlicky/oniony taste of the shallot. I hope I am not boring you to death with the nonsense of simple meals and rambling about how I am being lazy by throwing vegetables into a pan, but I promise that I will soon have more interesting meals. For now, it is late and big surprise, I have another long day tomorrow! buona notte!!!

Le Piadine di Ravenna

         This past Saturday (I know this is long overdue), I went on an art history field trip to Ravenna, a small city outside of Florence known for it’s fabulous early-christian frescos. The frescos were absolutely breathtaking. I found that I constantly had to remind myself of what I was looking at: thousands of tiny pieces of glass stuck onto wall after enormous wall, tomb after tomb…all by hand. It was truly mind-blowing and humbling to stand in a church covered in one of the earliest, most beautiful, colorful, and surprisingly abstract art forms. Little did I know, however, that the city of Ravenna was also known for something else: Piadine. Piadine are similar to pita bread in that they are round and flat, but they are saltier and oilier, and are the perfect blanket in which one can bundle up classic, local flavors. “La Piadina” (original name I know) is known to be the best place in town to get these bundles of salty goodness so I naturally stopped by for lunch. In this tiny little place, once you have placed your order, the chef takes a piadina off of a tall stack of them and gently places it on the open grill along with the others that are already cooking and then fills it with your whatever you ordered. If they run out, someone shouts something very loudly and quickly in Italian up to the second floor and instantaneously a fresh stack of piadine are lowerd down in a basket on a pully system. It was the best bread basket I have ever seen. Anyway, I ordered roasted pork, which is very unlike me, but I thought to myself “when in Rome...or Ravenna.” It was a good decision. 

Le Piadine ready to be placed on the grill

Holding my savory roast pork piadina

A doorknob

Oltre il Ponte (Over the Bridge)

        The other day, I made my first venture over the river to the other side of Firenze. Whereas my side is full of bustling activity, commercial chains, the big mercati, and people shoving leather bags in your face (not to say that it is not all absolutely wonderful), the other side of the river is quieter, less commercial, and full of little artisan shops. I went with my interior design class to look at tiny furniture shops, antique shops, showrooms, interiors, and exteriors in order to find inspiration and provide a basis for true Italian craftsmanship and design. What struck me is that “craftsmanship” as an art and as a concept is still very much alive in Florence. Shop after shop there were people young and old specializing in hand-made furniture, furniture restoration, hand-made tiles, metal and gold leafing, anything and everything you can imagine. It took me back to what Tina said in her cooking class: “In Italy, the most important thing is to have passion for what you are doing.” Nothing could have hit home more as I walked through these tiny, eclectic, family-run shops located in beautiful medieval and renaissance palazzos. I got to see people working with their hands to create. And what they are creating is more than an ebony chair, a refurbished 17^th century desk, a shawl made out of tiny glass beads, a terracotta slab, or an ornate piece of gold-leaf molding. They are creating the things people live their lives in and around, and they are doing it with passion. I connect with them not only because I am an artist in the stereotypical sense (sketchbook in hands at all times), but like Tina said, the same is applied to cooking. Everything I create as an artist, or a designer, or a cook, or whoever I am, I do it with passion, and that is what makes my life taste better. 

Just liked this
(on the side of the road covering construction)

Faucets outside the Riccardo Barthel workshop

Aprosio & Co glass jewelry. her process

Inside the Ponziani antique studio

Hand made terracotta tiles outside
the Riccardo Barthel workshop

17th century carrying throne from Ponziani

Due cene: Porcini e Pollo

Pasta con i porcini

          As I walked through the market per la seconda volta (for the second time), I was more and more drawn to the piles upon piles of dried mushrooms. They filled the air with a buttery, nutty scent that made me shiver with delight. I decided to get some. I asked the man for porcini mushrooms. Of course he had me smell them before he could sell them to me (such quality!). Since they were dried I knew I would have to steep them in boiling water in order to be able to use them in whatever I would decide to cook. Additionally, being that it was my first endeavor with dried porcini, I decided to stay simple and make a sauce. After steeping the mushrooms, I added them to a reduction of white wine, garlic, butter, olive oil, onions, and tomato paste. I let the concoction reduce while the pasta was cooking and just before adding the pasta to the pan of fragrant sauce, I added a splash of cream, and a generous handful of parmigiano reggiano. It was beautifully rich in flavor without being heavy. The sauce was complemented perfectly by whole wheat, sun-dried tomato pasta from the market. The mushrooms have quickly become a staple in my pantry. Next I’m thinking risotto. Along with the pasta I served some olives from the mercato that I marinated in olive oil, lemon zest, rosemary, salt and pepper, and a touch of balsamic vinegar: something I learned from my mother and which nobody does better.

Balsamic-glazed chicken

            The next night, I was tired of both cooking and eating pasta.  The day before, I had the macellaio (butcher) butterfly and pound a few chicken breasts so that they were thin, tender, and perfect for cooking either in a pan with a sauce or in the oven. I love the combination of chicken and balsamic vinegar. The acid in the vinegar tenderizes the meat and really disperses the tangy flavor all throughout the chicken. Therefore, I decided to make balsamic-glazed chicken. I started out by searing the chicken on each side in a pan of oil and a little bit of butter so that they were nice and golden, but not totally cooked for they would be going in the oven later. In the same pan, I made a balsamic and red wine reduction (apparently I am into reductions) and added cherry tomatoes and sautéed onions and garlic. This was supposed to act as a glaze for the chicken but it ended up being a little bit too runny for my liking. Either way, the chicken was perfectly tender and it was good to eat something other than pasta for a night and reassuring to know that I have the ability to actually cook something other than pasta. 

Bruschetta

Pasta con i porcini

Le olive