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By Suzanne Carreiro, May 25, 2010 15:40

A beautiful bunch of young lacinato kale.

Last week at the St. Helena Farmers’ Market, I bought one of my favorite greens—lacinato kale.  Today, the kale awaits me.  It is gloomy here, raining—practically unheard of in Napa Valley during the month of May.  So I am pondering what to have for dinner…hmmm—Zuppa con cavolo nero e fagioli. But first, what the heck is lacinato kale?

Lacinato Kale

What is it?

Lacinato kale—long stemmed, with frilly, blistered leaves—is one of the darkest greens in the Cruciferae plant family (Brassica Oleracea species, Acephala group), a very nutritious collection of vegetables that are rich in antioxidants, vitamins, and minerals.  Lacinato kale’s deep bluish green-black leaves make it one of the most nutritious among its cousins—cabbage, watercress, broccoli, cauliflower, arugula, collard greens, mustard greens, and Brussels sprouts.

What to look for

At the store, the vegetable is called lacinato, dino, dinosaur, Tuscan, or black kale.  In Italy, it is called cavolo nero (black cabbage).  Look for fresh (not wilted), tender dark green leaves—the smaller the leaf, the more tender and delicate.  Non-organic kale is often heavily sprayed, so organic kale is a much better choice.

Note: Visit the Environmental Working Group’s website (www.foodnews.org) to read about the “Dirty Dozen” (http://www.foodnews.org/methodology.php), produce with the highest levels of pesticides.

Bowl of Lacinata Kale and Bean Soup

When is it in season?

In California, lacinato kale is generally available year-round at supermarkets and farmers’ markets, but the prime season is winter, spring, and fall.

How to store and prepare

Drop the kale into a large bowl (or salad spinner) filled with cold water; gently swish the stalks around to remove any dirt—this may take two or three bowlfuls of fresh water.  The kale is clean when no grit remains in the bottom of the bowl.  When clean, rather than draining it into a colander, scoop the kale out of the water by hand just in case there is fine dirt left on the bottom.  Drain the leaves well (or spin them dry in the salad spinner).  Wrap the leaves in a clean towel; store in a plastic bag in a crisper drawer in the refrigerator for up to several days. (Note: flavors and nutrition deteriorate as the kale ages). Just before cooking, for more tender kale, cut the leaves off the stems using kitchen shears (usually a good idea if the leaves are large).

What to do with it

Like spinach and chard, lacinato kale has a green flavor but with a slightly bitter, astringent quality and a peppery background.  The Italians cook the kale in extra virgin olive oil with garlic, a pinch of red pepper flakes, and plenty of salt to help mellow it out.  The sautéed kale makes one of the most traditional—and popular—toppings for crostini in Tuscany, and it’s also delicious on pizza with sautéed onions, diced almost-crisp pancetta, and plenty of salt and olive oil.  In Italy, cavolo nero is served alongside roasted, grilled, or braised meats and poultry, but it is also makes a quick sauce for pasta. In Umbria, sautéed greens are tucked inside torta al testo (griddle bread) with grilled sausage or cheese.  Lacinato kale—and chard—is an important ingredient in many soups, from minestrone to ribollita.  A recipe for a quick Italian soup follows.

Zuppa con cavolo nero e fagioli—Lacinato Kale and Bean Soup

PRINT Zuppa con cavolo nero e fagioli

Seme di melone pasta

After a conversation with my friend and colleague Rita Held about her husband’s kale and bean soup, I rushed out to buy lacinato kale to make my own version.  The soup is quick and easy to make—and it is really delicious.

For the pasta, tiny soup pasta is ideal.  De Cecco sells several kinds—stellette (tiny stars), riso (rice), and seme di melone (melon seeds), my favorite.  Any of these will do.  If you have fresh soup pasta—it’s even better than dried—add it during the last few minutes of cooking.

Here is my rendition of the soup.

Yield: About 6-1/2 cups (3 main-dish servings or 6 first-course servings)

Ingredients

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil plus more for garnish

Lacinato kales simmers in broth

1/2 medium yellow onion, finely chopped

2 slices pancetta or bacon, diced

1 large garlic clove, minced

6 cups homemade chicken broth

1 large bunch lacinato kale or chard, chopped

1 (14 ounce) can cannellini beans, drained

1/2 cup dried tiny soup pasta, such as seme di melone or riso

Cannellini beans are added to the soup

Salt and freshly ground pepper

Shredded or grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese

Directions

Heat a medium saucepan over medium heat; add the oil.  When hot, sauté the onion, pancetta, and garlic in the oil until the onion is tender and the pancetta is cooked but not crisp.  (If using bacon, you might want to drain off some of the fat.)  Add the broth; bring to a boil over high heat.  Immediately stir in the kale and reduce the heat; simmer until the kale is just

Seme di melone pasta cooks until al dente

tender, about 12 minutes.  Add the beans and pasta; cook until the pasta is al dente (refer to the package directions for cooking time).  If the pasta absorbs too much liquid add a little more broth or water.  Adjust the salt to taste; season with pepper as desired.  Drizzle each serving with a little of the oil.  Pass the cheese at the table.

Notes: Al dente means the pasta gives some resistance when bitten into—it should not be soft. For a really fast soup, substitute one quart canned chicken broth plus two cups water for the homemade broth.

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By Suzanne Carreiro, April 18, 2010 18:14

I couldn’t find matches at the supermarket in an Umbrian supermarket, so I asked a clerk for help.  “No, no signora, we don’t sell matches!”  he said, looking amazed at my dumb question.  “Where can I buy them?” I asked.  “La tabaccheria (the tobacco shop).”  His tone of voice told me the answer was obvious (maybe it was).  On the street, a giant letter T identifies tobacco shops.  They sell anything to do with smoking and an assortment of other things—cell phone minutes, phone cards, postage stamps, gum, candy, gifts, magazines, and matches.

Need aspirin?  Go to the farmacia—unless the laws have changed (grocery stores were lobbying to amend them)—that’s the only place you’ll find them.

There are still many specialty stores—grocery (alimentari), produce (frutta e verdura), pastry (pasticceria), butcher (macelleria), bakery (panetteria or panificio) and pasta—but most people like the one-stop shopping large supermarkets offer.  From the moment you push a coin into the slot to release a cart from its station in the parking lot, shopping in an Umbrian supermarket is an experience.  For example, the sugar is usually located near the coffee and baking soda is near the bottled water—in the USA both are in the baking aisle.  Eggs sit on unrefrigerated shelves next to row after row of shelf-stable milk cartons.  The fresh milk section—with just a few short rows of liter cartons—is notably small.  And late in the day expect the refrigerated milk to be sold out.

The produce department holds the biggest challenge for a successful (not embarrassing) shopping trip.  You need to remember three things: (1) wear the plastic gloves provided by the store to handle fruit and vegetables; (2) immediately weigh the bagged goods (so you don’t forget), selecting the item’s icon on the scale; and (3) put the price sticker that the scale spits out on the bag.  What humiliation if you arrive at checkout without prices.  The cashier will leave the register to weigh your purchases in the produce section while everyone in line glares at you.  Smile and feel grateful that at least you didn’t ask for matches, like I did.

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By Suzanne Carreiro, April 8, 2010 10:15

On one of my visits to Umbria, my good friend Michela’s daughter had just turned six months.  Baby Giulia had a good appetite—and maybe some of that had to do with what Michela fed her.  Italian baby food (la pappa) has a lot of appeal.  For dinner one evening, Michela made vegetable broth from scratch and stirred in rice cereal until it was the consistency of mush.  Next she added pureed meat that she bought in jars at the pharmacy.

“But the secret to la pappina—the baby’s little meal—,” said Michela, “is the extra virgin olive oil and grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese that I add.”

The pharmacy in downtown Umbertide (Michela’s hometown) sells an interesting array of baby food.  Along with fruits and vegetables, they offer a variety of meats that you don’t see here—horse, rabbit, prosciutto.  There is also a baby-food brand of extra virgin olive oil.  And supermarkets sell small water bottles, specifically for babies and young children.

As a toddler, Giulia ate her multi-course dinner early in the evening.  Her favorite antipasto (appetizer) was crostini con fegato (liver pâté on bread), but she also devoured pecorino cheese, prosciutto, mortadella, and salami. Next came pasta, usually something Michela’s mother had made by hand.  Giulia could eat more of her nonna’s cappelletti in brodo than even the adults could.  The second course would be meat—pork cutlets, rack of lamb, roast duck or chicken, sautéed fish, meatballs, or sausage.  She ate roasted potatoes with abandon and loved her grandmother Paola’s homemade bread.  At two, Giulia had the appetite of a contadina who had spent her days in the field.

Would American kids have more sophisticated palates if their baby pablum included olive oil and Parmigiano cheese? Or if we served crackers with pecorino cheese instead of rubbery slices of American cheese.  Or mortadella instead of baloney?

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By Suzanne Carreiro, March 10, 2010 16:47

Macedonia di frutta

In homes across Umbria, a bowl or basket of fresh, seasonal fruit—whole bananas, golden pears, mandarin oranges the size of ping-pong balls, and bunches of grapes—is usually brought to the table at the end of lunch and dinner.  When a medley of bite-size fruit, called macedonia di frutta, is served instead, I am in heaven!  The secret to a really good macedonia is the addition of a dessert wine, such as Umbria’s beloved vinsanto or port, and fresh lemon juice.  To make macedonia, choose three or more fresh fruits—bananas, grapes, cherries, pineapple, berries, pears, apples, peaches, kiwis, oranges—but not melon.  Peel the fruit as needed and cut it into bite-size pieces.  Sprinkle the fruit to taste with sugar, fresh lemon juice (and fresh orange juice, if you wish), and a splash of dessert wine.  Toss until the fruit is well coated.  Set aside at least one-half hour before serving so the sugar and juices turn into a syrupy sauce and the flavors have a chance to marry.

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By Suzanne Carreiro, February 18, 2010 15:36

Umbrians are very forgiving when it comes to foreigners trying to speak Italian.  Just a few polite words and phrases—accompanied by pointing to what you want and using hand gestures to show what you mean—should gain you instant approval.

1. Where is the bathroom?: Dov’è il bagno? (doh-VEH eel bah-nyoh)
2. How much does it cost?:  Quanto costa? (KWAHN-toh KOHS-tah)
3. Excuse me:  mi scusi (mee-SKUU-zee).
4. Here it is/here they are:  ecco (EHK-koh).
5. I am sorry:  mi dispiace (mee dis-pee-AH-chey)
6. I don’t understand:  Non capisco (nohn kah-PEES-koh)
7. It’s nothing:  niente (NEE-n-teh).
8. I would like:  vorrei (vor-RAY)
9. Permission? May I come in?: permesso (PAIR-mehs-soh).
10. No:  no (noh).
11. Okay: va bene (va BEH-neh).
12. Please:  per favore (pair fav-OR-eh).
13. Thank you:  grazie (GRAH-tzee-eh)—this must be the most often mispronounced word.
14. Yes:  sì (see).
15. You’re welcome:  prego (PRAY-goh).  Also say prego when you motion someone to go ahead of you in line, for example.

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By Suzanne Carreiro, February 11, 2010 14:51

People often ask me what it has taken to get The Dog Who Ate the Truffle published.  Before I got involved, I knew it would take a lot of hard work and discipline.  What I didn’t know was that the process would take years and that working on the book would be at times all consuming.

Book cover

The project began in 2002, when I came up with the idea for a regional Umbrian cookbook.  After doing preliminary research, I spent months creating a detailed chapter-by-chapter summary and recipe list, but one morning I woke up with an idea that I liked even better—which is the book you will see in July.  From there, I spent the next eight months writing the book proposal that I would use to get an agent.  I sent the proposal to a few agents, and two of them offered to represent my book.  Together, my agent and I rewrote the proposal two times.  By the time I signed on with an agent and was offered a contract by a publisher, more than a year had passed.  And from all the publishing stories I have heard, I consider myself very lucky.

The proposal sold the unwritten book, so when I got a contract, I had to hustle to write the stories and finish testing the recipes.  I worked with just a few days off for the next ten months.  The month my manuscript was due, I worked from the time I got up until I went to bed.  I submitted the manuscript ON TIME—but I found out that my editor hadn’t paid much attention to the deadline so its arrival surprised her.  Then I heard nothing from my editor for months.  So in the meantime, I spent weeks selecting and editing the hundreds of photos I had taken for the book while living in Umbria.  Wow, was that a lot of work!

Then about two weeks ago, I received the copy-edited manuscript of my Umbrian memoir/cookbook from my publisher to proofread and look over.  I spent seven days reading it, without a break.  Then at the week’s end, I sent it back with my approvals and corrections.  The book is finally in production—in a month I should see it again when it is almost ready to go to press.

Finally, after months of waiting, my editor, the sales team, and my publicist are in gear.  I already have four book signings on my summer calendar, so I am getting excited about the book coming out.

This week I am putting together my own PR plan for The Dog Who Ate the Truffle.  And next, I’ll start posting Umbrian recipes here.  I had so many extras that I could have written another book.

If you have any good ideas for spreading the word about my book, please let me know!  I would also enjoy hearing about your travels in Umbria.

A presto, Suzanne

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By Suzanne Carreiro, January 10, 2010 17:59

Novella's daughter Analisa spreading jam over slices of pecorino cheese.

I am so addicted to this jam!  I served it on pecorino cheese as an appetizer over the holidays–everyone loved it.  Its spiciness is reminiscent of jalapeno jelly, but this jam is much more interesting and complex.  My friend Novella, a shop owner and ceramic artist in Deruta, Umbria, served this pepper jam when I dined at her house.  She is just one of the cooks I met in Umbria when I was working on my book.

The jam is also delicious on Manchego, fresh mozarella, or ricotta cheese.  Novella also likes it on boiled beef.

Novella tasted this jam while traveling in the Italian region of Puglia–it is not a traditional Umbrian recipe.  She liked it so much she came home and developed her own recipe for it. Novella is a very good cook–there are a couple of her recipes in my book The Dog Who Ate The Truffle.

Although the jam on cheese makes a great holiday appetizer, summer is a good time to make the jam because red bell peppers are more economical.

Ingredients for making Spicy Pepper Jam.

Simmering bell and chile peppers in water.

Spicy Pepper Jam

Marmelata di peperoni

Print Spicy Pepper Jam Recipe

Yield: About 1-1/2 cups

3 large red bell peppers

15 small dried red chile peppers (see Note, below)

1-1/2 cups water

3/4 cup sugar

An immersion blender makes pureeing in the saucepan easy.

3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

1/4 teaspoon salt

3 tablespoons honey

1. Core, seed, and chop the bell peppers. Put the bell and chile peppers into a medium saucepan; add the 1-1/2 cups water. Bring to a boil over high heat; reduce the heat to medium. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until tender, about 12 minutes.

Small jars--less than 1/2 cup volume--are ideal.

2. Remove and discard the chile peppers; use an immersion blender or food processor to puree the bell peppers with the cooking liquid. Be careful when using an immersion blender–the mixture might splatter.

3. Stir in the sugar, lemon juice, and salt. Simmer over medium heat, stirring often and adjusting the heat to prevent a boil-over. Remove from the heat when the mixture is the consistency of a fairly thick jam and it has a slight sheen, 18 to 20 minutes.  Stir in the honey.

Check out the plates in the back--hand-painted by Novella.

4. Spoon the jam into canning/freezer jars. Seal; refrigerate up to 2 weeks or freeze up to 4 months.

Note:  Look for the chile peppers in the spice section of the grocery store.  Sometimes they are available in bags in the international section near Mexican and Asian ingredients.

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By Suzanne Carreiro, December 4, 2008 14:27

My driveway in Umbertide after a rare snowstorm.

Note:  These “postcards” are extracted from the emails that I sent to friends and family while I lived in Umbria.  (Umbria is Tuscany’s neighbor to the east.) 

Ciao a Tutti,

My year here in Umbria is almost over—I will be home at the end of January.  I leave here with mixed emotions.  I am anxious to see family and friends at home but at the same time, I cannot bear to leave my good friends and “adopted” Umbrian family—and the little cat Nano (midget) who has become my constant companion.

My favorite Umbrian cat, Nano (midget).

Here in Umbria the weather is a common topic.  For months, it has been much warmer than usual—it is colder inside my old stone house than it is outside.  It has hardly rained since the incredible thunderstorms we had in July and August, but we’ve had a lot of fog.  Even with unseasonably warm weather, a pair of socks still takes at least three days to dry (clothes dryers are not common here).  I don’t think the bath towels I washed days ago will be dry until spring.  A few days ago, the temperature dropped.  Maybe winter has finally arrived.

It is festive here, of course, with Christmas festivities.  Strands of lacy lights line the sky above the streets, a huge tree covered with small white lights fills the main piazza, and shop windows are filled with toys and Babbo Natale (Santa Claus).

A couple nights ago, I went to a friend’s in Gubbio, one of the most beautiful medieval hill towns in Italy, to learn a couple of the city’s specialties.  Driving into town, I saw the most dazzling sight—the entire hillside of the town was covered in blue and green Christmas lights that turned the hill into the world’s largest Christmas tree, so they say.

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By Suzanne Carreiro, June 6, 2008 16:02

Note:  These “postcards” are extracted from the emails that I sent to friends and family while I lived in Umbria.  (Umbria is Toscany’s neighbor to the east). 

Ciao a Tutti,

My son Jacob was here for the month of May, and what great fun we had!  But now I am trying to make up for all the time I goofed off.  We did some sightseeing here in Umbria, and we spent his last few days in Rome, in the Lazio region just south of Umbria.  There is no city like Roma on earth!  But I’m a little shell-shocked.  After saying goodbye to Jacob at the airport, I took the train back into Rome, and then a little later, I took it back home to Umbria.

My son Jacob outside the Vatican.

During the few hours I was alone in Rome, someone cut an 8-inch slash in my purse with a knife and then stabbed it several more times, trying to cut through the lining.  When I discovered the gaping hole in my purse, I was astounded and frightened.  I never noticed anyone near me, and I never felt anything—my hand was always hanging onto my purse, just an inch or so from where they slashed!

After trying to keep up with my twenty-six-year-old son in Rome—and escaping the purse-slashing incident without injury or loss of money—it is good to be back in tranquil Umbria.

In fact, June is one of the nicest months in Umbria.  Rain is rare, it isn’t too hot yet, and the landscape is at its prettiest.  The hills are a patchwork of colors.  Golden fields of grain—oats, wheat, and barley—border hillsides dotted with the grayish-green olive trees and dense forests.  In the valley, the corn and sunflowers are over a meter high.  Just a few yellow sunflowers break the monotony of green, and the rest are getting ready to open. Rows of tobacco are breaking through the dirt and are now six or so inches tall. The grapevines are filled with leaves and tiny, tiny grapes.  At night in the countryside, the dark ‘campo’ twinkles with fireflies!

I am busy working on my book.  I spent two days last week cooking with a friend’s mother (Bruna) who is an exceptional, traditional Umbrian cook.  We made gnocchi and the classic duck sauce that goes with it—tomatoes, duck, veal, lardo, butter, olive oil, carrots, celery, onion, and plenty of salt.  All simmer together to create a thin, velvety sauce that clings to the gnocchi—I’ve never had a more exquisite sauce (the meat is served as a separate course).

The next day, Bruna and I made cappelletti—tiny meat-filled pasta that is served in broth. The filling took a couple hours to make—from simmering to grinding.  Then the real work began—kneading the pasta (10 eggs worth) for 20 minutes, rolling out the dough (we used a hand-cranked machine), and cutting 2-inch circles in the dough.  Bruna did all that.  Then her husband pinched off tiny pieces of the meat filling and dropped a pea-sized bit onto every circle of dough.  Three of us folded, twisted, and sealed the pasta—it took over three hours.  Usually Bruna makes it alone; it takes her the entire day.

This week I am madly testing recipes and writing—with a break on Thursday when I head to Castelluccio near Norica, in southeastern Umbria.  Castelluccio is famous for its fields filled with flowers—and more famous for its tiny, delicious lentils.  I head there to see the flowers and then go to a tiny town near Norcia to watch Pecorino cheese being made.  Then I hope to make it to a small factory (in an old monastery) where they make prosciutto.  Umbria’s best prosciutto comes from Norcia.

Next Monday and Tuesday, I am taking a professional cooking course—Pane, Pizze, e Focacce.

I’d love to hear what’s new with you.  Ciao for now, Suzanne Carreiro

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By Suzanne Carreiro, August 6, 2007 17:13

An ancient map of Umbria taken at the Vatican.

Ciao a Tutti,

What a summer we are having here in Umbria!  We have had one violent thunderstorm after another for several weeks.  A storm threatens at this moment and another one is expected to arrive tomorrow.  The storms destroyed a friend’s computer and two of his television sets and another friend lost his telephone.  The lightening has done something to my wireless internet set-up.  Neither my neighbor nor I (we share DSL) have been able to get online for most of July and August.
The temperature has dropped from the mid 90s to the mid 70s.  The sunflowers are spent and the days are shorter—now it starts to get dark at 8:30.  Mornings have been crisp and cool, perfect for my morning bike ride near the Tiber River or walk in the hills above my house.
Summer is the season of the Sagra—festival.  Every town seems to have one or two this season.  Last Sunday, I went to a small town near Perugia for a festa.  There were a half a dozen people in costumes from the middle ages doing the work common to that epoch—grinding flour, spinning wool, carving wood and stone.  The central piazza was lined with picnic tables and a band played in an upper piazza.  We ate a traditional dinner, served by waiters and children dressed in costumes from the 1500s.  It tasted as though someone’s grandmother had made each dish—gnocchi with goose sauce, garbanzo beans and pasta, beans and pork rind, torta with sausage.  Everything was delicious, including the wine.  I am trying to decide which festival to go to next weekend.  There are too many choices right now.

My tutor, Mario, during harvest--in the family's winery.

I work on my book every day except Sunday, but work is what I came here to do. My book proposal is almost out the door—all 150 pages of it.  I am in the final stages of making corrections and proofreading.  Tomorrow I hope to select the sample photos that I will include.  The next step is to send the proposal to agents until someone takes on the project.  I hope that all happens quickly.  Of course, it is far from over when I find an agent—a publisher has to buy it (if you know a good agent, let me know).
My head is swimming with all of the wonderful things I need to put on paper.

The pizza class I mentioned in my last letter was fabulous.  It was a professional class with only 6 students. The instructor has a bakery in a tiny town near me.  He has 20 years of baking experience and had a lot of very interesting, unusual things to say about flour and making dough.  The pizza was exceptional, but so were the breadsticks, the olive focaccia, and the dinner rolls.

Scaloppine with black truffles from the cooking class.

A couple of weeks ago, I was invited to a truffle class by a couple who produce a truffle sauce and sell other truffle products.  They taught us about the different kinds of truffles and showed us how to cook a few truffle dishes—scaloppini with truffles, frittata con tartufi, mashed potatoes with truffles rolled in a crepe. My favorite tartufi are the precious white truffles from Umbria, but they are not around until the fall.  I hope to go looking for black summer truffles next week.
In July, I spent three days at a local artisan butcher.  They make their own prosciutto, pancetta, guanciale (pancetta made from pork cheeks), and fresh sausage. One day I stayed at the butchers while they made fifty prosciutti and an equal number of pancetta.  I came home smelling like vinegar and garlic even though I had not touched anything but my notepad and camera.

Umbria's pork sausage--yummy.

The sausage here is squisita—ground pork, garlic, salt, and pepper—simple but fabulous.  And the guanciale! —sautéed and put on a piece of toasted Umbrian bread with olive oil.  Just about everyone here can afford to buy these gourmet products that in the States are a splurge.
I recently went to Citerno to learn about making vin santo (holy wine), a dessert wine that Umbrian’s love to dunk their cake and cookies into.  At harvest, the man and his wife hang wine grapes from the rafters in their attic to dry until the grapes are withered.  Some time in January, they will press the grapes and make wine.  The wine goes into a small wooden barrel with a bit of  “mother” wine, where it stays untouched for three years.  Delicious.  I am going back to help them hang the grapes in the fall. His wife has promised to teach me how to make the wonderful cake we ate with the vin santo.
In mid July, I made a trek to the southeastern tip of Umbria to a place called Campi.  I learned how the family has been making pecorino cheese for five generations.
Coming up next is a visit to a man who cultivates saffron, the onion festival in Cannara, and the lentil harvest.
I’m off to close the windows…the wind, arriving with the approaching storm, is slamming the doors shut throughout the house and blowing the pages of my book all over the floor.
Have a good rest of the summer.  Ciao, Suzanne