A Taste of Italy

I cannot ever imagine a home without books or a life without reading and have been a voracious reader for as long as I can remember. I have no recollection of learning to read but only that it was a treat to spend my pocket money on choosing a new book after school on a Friday afternoon. Or spending summer holidays browsing the shelves of the library. Not especially discerning, I would read anything I could get my hands on and still do. Whether it’s biographies, mysteries, self-improvement, or a good meaty novel I devour them all, but none more so than a good food memoir. I love stories of people’s lives told through food. The first one I read was probably ‘Toast’ by Nigel Slater which is a biography of his childhood in the 1960s remembered through food ranging from ghastly gristly stews to Arctic Roll. Does anyone else remember those? I think we considered them the height of sophistication when we were children.

A small selection of my food memoirs

I am lucky enough to belong to a fabulous reading group in our village. Book titles are suggested by all members and an eclectic mix is chosen for the year, one a month except for December when we replace our usual get together with a party. We meet every month in a village pub and usually start with a quick quiz or game loosely related to the month’s book. This is followed by a discussion of the chosen book based on questions provided by one of the members. This month was my book choice and I picked “Taste: My life through Food” by Stanley Tucci, a charming and intimate memoir centred around the sharing of food and Italian hospitality.

I had been aware of Stanley Tucci as an actor (Devil Wears Prada, Julie and Julia etc) but it was during the first lockdown in 2020 that he came into the public consciousness when his YouTube video on how to make the perfect Negroni went viral.

I differ from Mr Tucci in that I only use a single shot of gin (1 part gin, 1 part Campari, 1 part red vermouth) and sadly the only vermouth stocked by my local is Martini so I might be missing a trick. I also like mine on the rocks and occasionally topped up with Prosecco to make a spritz. But however you take it, drinking a Negroni is like taking a sip of Renaissance Florence… it is bittersweet and sublime, with hidden depth. Need I say any more? Except perhaps that one is quite enough because after two you won’t care about making dinner. Don’t ask how I know.

But back to our book club, we decided that as we would be reading and reviewing a food memoir, and in particular an Italian food memoir, rather than meet in the pub we would get together in Annie’s home and together we would provide our reading group members with Italian food and drink. With her usual flair Annie set the table according to the theme with a beautiful cloth decorated with lemons and bowls of citrus fruits. Sadly, genuine Amalfi lemons were not available in the shires, but this did not detract from what was a fabulous evening.

Amalfi Lemons maybe?

We drank Aperol Spritz, having decided that Negroni were probably a little too potent for a Wednesday evening, and ate wonderful garlicky bruschetta topped with carciofi, mozzarella e pomodori , Italian cheese and meats followed by a selection of sweet treats. We had an Italian food quiz and played some silly games that had us all in hysterics – Stanley describes one of these games in his book. Pass the ring was a traditional game played at Christmas in his family. We were also treated to some wonderful food related stories of growing up in an Italian household from Annie’s Italian daughter-in-law. I even managed to practise some of my very inadequate Italian.

The book is an easy read and Stanley Tucci comes across as likeable and humorous and on reading it we all agreed that it makes you want to cook, or perhaps more importantly eat, Italian food.

For anyone wanting more of Italian scenery and sunshine, together with incredible food (assuming you are not actually going to Italy) and dare I say it, even more of the suave Mr Tucci (be honest, who doesn’t), I can recommend the wonderful CNN TV series “Searching for Italy”. In each episode Stanley visits a different region of Italy and talks to different food producers and chefs about regional specialties, before enthusiastically eating whatever is offered. It’s good easy watching that is a real feast for the eyes and it always leaves me feeling very hungry.

And for one final dose of Stanley Tucci, I can recommend the film Big Night in which he co-stars and wrote himself because he was tired of always being cast as an Italian American gangster. Big Night tells the story of two Italian brothers trying to make a success of their restaurant in America. It’s funny and understated, maybe a little bit niche but is worth watching for the final scene where Tucci’s character cooks, serves and eats an omelette all in one magnificent take which is pure food theatre.

In the Italian spirit of sharing food, the following was one of my culinary contributions to our Italian evening. I have adapted the recipe from one in Nigel Slater’s column in the Observer (another bit of excellent food writing). He describes them as little almond scented treats with which I totally agree, but then he calls them shortcakes. They are definitely NOT shortcakes but the beautifully soft, slightly fudgy biscuits that originate from Siena, called Ricciarelli. They are ridiculously easy to make and although just like the French macaron, you need to set aside time to allow them to stand, they take no time at all. They are my go-to recipe if I want to bring along a food gift to any occasion.

You will need:

225g ground almonds

¼ teaspoon baking powder

125g sifted icing sugar

Finely grated zest of either one lemon (Amalfi preferred) or one orange

2 egg whites

½ teaspoon of almond essence (go easy… you’re after almond scented not the flavour of cheap marzipan)

½ teaspoon vanilla essence

Prepare a baking sheet with a lining of baking parchment. Combine the almonds, baking powder and sugar in a bowl. Stir in the grated zest. Whisk the egg whites in a medium bowl until they form soft peaks (not quite meringue thickness). Fold in the almond mixture together with both essences. It should form a slightly sticky paste.

Keep your hands dusted with icing sugar and break off small pieces of dough and roll them into short fat sausage shapes and place them onto the prepared baking sheet, allowing a little space around each one. Your hands will get very sticky but persevere. You should get 14 – 15 biscuits. Dip a fork into icing sugar and lightly press the top of each biscuit to flatten ever so slightly.

Now let them sit at room temperature (not the fridge!) for at least an hour. Do not skimp on this stage as it is crucial to allow a thin skin to form on the surface which gives the correct texture. Once rested, bake in a cool oven (160C, 150 fan, 300F, gas 3) for 15 minutes. Remove from the oven and let them rest for five minutes before rolling them in a generous amount of icing sugar. You are not after a sprinkle of sugar but a heavy coating. Nigel Slater suggests serving them with a sliver of candied peel topping each one, but I don’t bother. It’s only really worth doing if you candy your own peel. But that’s a post for another time

Buon appetito!

Thank you once again for reading and I will be back next week, and who knows possibly with some art!