POLPO - A Venetian Cookbook (of Sorts)

RusseLL NoRmaNPhotogRaPhy by JeNNy ZaRiNs

a VeNetiaN Cookbook (of soRts)

RusseLL NoRmaNPhotogRaPhy by JeNNy ZaRiNs

a VeNetiaN Cookbook (of soRts)

CiChÈti

bàcari are the closest thing that Venetians have to the british pub or the downtown New york bar. they are meeting places for locals, social hubs where you go for a drink or two. you will find politicians rubbing shoulders with market traders, gondoliers chatting to university professors, and the conversation will range from politics to football, nostalgia to gossip. although they are unashamedly working-class, the bàcari differ from british pubs and New york bars in every other respect. in a pub the food tends to be dry and processed: potato crisps, roasted peanuts and pork scratchings. in manhattan you’ll get pretzels and nachos. in a bàcaro you will find cichèti.

Cichèti (the spelling is Venetian, in the rest of italy they spell it cicchètti)* are small snacks, usually prepared in advance, that sit in a glass cabinet on the bar counter. they are often speared with a single toothpick to allow the barman to pick them up easily as you point to what you want. it’s as simple as that. you wash your cichèto down with an ombra (literally a ‘shadow’, the word dates from when wines were placed in the shade to keep them cool) – a small glass of local wine.

these snacks can often be somewhat proletarian in their execution: a single anchovy from a tin wrapped around a single pickled onion stabbed with a toothpick, for example. or they can be sublimely subtle like baccalà mantecato (boiled and flaked salt cod, infused with garlic and creamed with olive oil) on a lozenge of toast. Cichèti are not so far removed from what aspirational dinner party hostesses would call canapés. they are perfect to accompany a glass of wine or two, or to offset the seductive effects of a spritz. they are also perfect as a way of whetting your guests’ appetites. there is nothing like a little of what’s to come to get the digestive juices flowing and the brain (and stomach) in gear for eating. as the italians say: ‘L’appetito vien mangiando’ – with eating, comes appetite.

often, cichèti use bread as their delivery mechanism. all the bàcari i have visited use a bought french stick sliced at an angle, sometimes toasted, often not, as the base for most of their cichèti. some of the more serious modern osterie might use Pugliese (also bought) cut the same way. for the purposes of clarity, cichèti using little toasts as a base are referred to in the following section as crostini.

Crostini really are very simple indeed. the toasted discs of french stick, ciabatta, Pugliese (your choice) can be prepared in advance and you can add your topping twenty minutes or even half an hour before serving. this is so typically Venetian: bàcari have these hanging round in glass cabinets for half a day sometimes. you can ‘reactivate’ your little cichèti by adding a few drops of olive oil on vegetable and meat crostini or a few drops of lemon juice on the fishy ones.

*Throughout the book, I have used Venetian dialect spellings where an ingredient, dish or term has a particular relevance or significance to Venice or the region.

CiChÈti

bàcari are the closest thing that Venetians have to the british pub or the downtown New york bar. they are meeting places for locals, social hubs where you go for a drink or two. you will find politicians rubbing shoulders with market traders, gondoliers chatting to university professors, and the conversation will range from politics to football, nostalgia to gossip. although they are unashamedly working-class, the bàcari differ from british pubs and New york bars in every other respect. in a pub the food tends to be dry and processed: potato crisps, roasted peanuts and pork scratchings. in manhattan you’ll get pretzels and nachos. in a bàcaro you will find cichèti.

Cichèti (the spelling is Venetian, in the rest of italy they spell it cicchètti)* are small snacks, usually prepared in advance, that sit in a glass cabinet on the bar counter. they are often speared with a single toothpick to allow the barman to pick them up easily as you point to what you want. it’s as simple as that. you wash your cichèto down with an ombra (literally a ‘shadow’, the word dates from when wines were placed in the shade to keep them cool) – a small glass of local wine.

these snacks can often be somewhat proletarian in their execution: a single anchovy from a tin wrapped around a single pickled onion stabbed with a toothpick, for example. or they can be sublimely subtle like baccalà mantecato (boiled and flaked salt cod, infused with garlic and creamed with olive oil) on a lozenge of toast. Cichèti are not so far removed from what aspirational dinner party hostesses would call canapés. they are perfect to accompany a glass of wine or two, or to offset the seductive effects of a spritz. they are also perfect as a way of whetting your guests’ appetites. there is nothing like a little of what’s to come to get the digestive juices flowing and the brain (and stomach) in gear for eating. as the italians say: ‘L’appetito vien mangiando’ – with eating, comes appetite.

often, cichèti use bread as their delivery mechanism. all the bàcari i have visited use a bought french stick sliced at an angle, sometimes toasted, often not, as the base for most of their cichèti. some of the more serious modern osterie might use Pugliese (also bought) cut the same way. for the purposes of clarity, cichèti using little toasts as a base are referred to in the following section as crostini.

Crostini really are very simple indeed. the toasted discs of french stick, ciabatta, Pugliese (your choice) can be prepared in advance and you can add your topping twenty minutes or even half an hour before serving. this is so typically Venetian: bàcari have these hanging round in glass cabinets for half a day sometimes. you can ‘reactivate’ your little cichèti by adding a few drops of olive oil on vegetable and meat crostini or a few drops of lemon juice on the fishy ones.

*Throughout the book, I have used Venetian dialect spellings where an ingredient, dish or term has a particular relevance or significance to Venice or the region.

gRissiNi, PiCkLeD RaDiCChio & saLami These little cichèti are like savoury lollipops. I can’t imagine any other way of persuading bambini to eat pickled radicchio. Since you are buying the salami and the breadsticks, the only part you need to prepare is the pickled radicchio. When buying breadsticks, choose the slightly more expensive Italian grissini rather than the thick moulded ones; or make your own (see page 100).

For twenty grissini:200ml white wine200ml white wine vinegar4 juniper berries20 leaves of radicchioextra virgin olive oil20 grissini 20 thin slices of salami

bring the white wine and the white wine vinegar to the boil with the juniper berries. When the liquid is bubbling, submerge the radicchio leaves for 5 minutes.

take off the heat, remove the radicchio with tongs and gently shake off any excess liquid. keep the pickled leaves covered in olive oil. When you are ready to use them, simply take out the leaves and drain them slightly of any excess oil.

Wrap the top end of the grissini with a piece of pickled radicchio and a slice of salami.

CiChÈti CiChÈti

gRissiNi, PiCkLeD RaDiCChio & saLami These little cichèti are like savoury lollipops. I can’t imagine any other way of persuading bambini to eat pickled radicchio. Since you are buying the salami and the breadsticks, the only part you need to prepare is the pickled radicchio. When buying breadsticks, choose the slightly more expensive Italian grissini rather than the thick moulded ones; or make your own (see page 100).

For twenty grissini:200ml white wine200ml white wine vinegar4 juniper berries20 leaves of radicchioextra virgin olive oil20 grissini 20 thin slices of salami

bring the white wine and the white wine vinegar to the boil with the juniper berries. When the liquid is bubbling, submerge the radicchio leaves for 5 minutes.

take off the heat, remove the radicchio with tongs and gently shake off any excess liquid. keep the pickled leaves covered in olive oil. When you are ready to use them, simply take out the leaves and drain them slightly of any excess oil.

Wrap the top end of the grissini with a piece of pickled radicchio and a slice of salami.

CiChÈti CiChÈti

fRieD stuffeD oLiVesThese cunning little savoury confections surprise and delight with the first bite. You’re not really sure what to expect, but the double hit of saltiness from the olive and then the anchovy tends to wake up the taste buds and sharpen the appetite. They’re as sophisticated a cocktail snack as any I know and never fail to impress.

For twenty olives:10 brown anchovy fillets, drained5 sage leaves1 garlic cloveJuice of ½ lemonblack pepper1 handful of grated Parmesan20 large italian ‘queen’ green olives, pitted3 medium free-range egg whitesitalian 00 flour for coatingPanko breadcrumbs (you can buy these in oriental supermarkets)1 litre vegetable oil

Chop the anchovies, sage and garlic as finely as possible and then, using a pestle and mortar (or in a bowl with the end of a rolling pin), turn into a paste, adding the lemon juice a few drops at a time. mix in a pinch of black pepper and the Parmesan.

stuff the olives by using a disposable piping bag to squirt your mixture into the hole left from pitting the olives. Dip into the egg white, then the flour, and then the breadcrumbs.

half fill a deep pan with the vegetable oil and bring the temperature up to 190°C (or until a cube of bread dropped in the oil turns golden in less than a minute). Deep-fry the coated olives in the oil for 2–3 minutes, or until golden brown. Drain on kitchen paper.

CiChÈti CiChÈti

fRieD stuffeD oLiVesThese cunning little savoury confections surprise and delight with the first bite. You’re not really sure what to expect, but the double hit of saltiness from the olive and then the anchovy tends to wake up the taste buds and sharpen the appetite. They’re as sophisticated a cocktail snack as any I know and never fail to impress.

For twenty olives:10 brown anchovy fillets, drained5 sage leaves1 garlic cloveJuice of ½ lemonblack pepper1 handful of grated Parmesan20 large italian ‘queen’ green olives, pitted3 medium free-range egg whitesitalian 00 flour for coatingPanko breadcrumbs (you can buy these in oriental supermarkets)1 litre vegetable oil

Chop the anchovies, sage and garlic as finely as possible and then, using a pestle and mortar (or in a bowl with the end of a rolling pin), turn into a paste, adding the lemon juice a few drops at a time. mix in a pinch of black pepper and the Parmesan.

stuff the olives by using a disposable piping bag to squirt your mixture into the hole left from pitting the olives. Dip into the egg white, then the flour, and then the breadcrumbs.

half fill a deep pan with the vegetable oil and bring the temperature up to 190°C (or until a cube of bread dropped in the oil turns golden in less than a minute). Deep-fry the coated olives in the oil for 2–3 minutes, or until golden brown. Drain on kitchen paper.

CiChÈti CiChÈti

60 bReaDs

bReaDs

i love the italian attitude to bread. you make it, you eat it, you get on with it. it is an attitude that is straightforward, no-nonsense and born of necessity; none of the fuss and reverence that you find in the artisanal approach of some New york or London bakeries i know. in italy, it is taken for granted that good food deserves good bread.

most restaurants i have visited in italy rely on the local baker to provide the bread required for their cichèti, crostini, bruschette and panini. this way they can ensure quality and consistency. that doesn’t mean you have to buy yours too, however. this section contains recipes for all the breads we enjoy making on a daily basis in our small soho kitchen. if you have the time, you should have a go. there are very few things more satisfying than making your own bread. but if you don’t have time, there is no shame at all in buying good quality bread from a professional baker and using that instead.

the one dough that you really must make yourself, however, is pizza dough. it is very simple and opens up a world of possibilities. so it is such a shame that pizza has become the ubiquitous, mass-produced fast food that we see on take-away menus pushed through our letterboxes and stacked high in the freezer cabinets of supermarkets. some of the flavour combinations are so strange that i often find myself shaking my head slowly as i read the descriptions.

in Venice, many of these crimes are perpetrated on a daily basis at the depressing tourist traps where waiters wear striped gondolier shirts and occasionally sing Neapolitan ditties. No wonder the city’s cuisine has such a bad name.

but i have had delightful pizza in italy and in many places outside italy too. the best ones are always the simplest. Pizza needs a very thin base and sparse topping. Just as with any other dish, the combination of ingredients should be balanced, subtle and complementary. Less is more.

60 bReaDs

bReaDs

i love the italian attitude to bread. you make it, you eat it, you get on with it. it is an attitude that is straightforward, no-nonsense and born of necessity; none of the fuss and reverence that you find in the artisanal approach of some New york or London bakeries i know. in italy, it is taken for granted that good food deserves good bread.

most restaurants i have visited in italy rely on the local baker to provide the bread required for their cichèti, crostini, bruschette and panini. this way they can ensure quality and consistency. that doesn’t mean you have to buy yours too, however. this section contains recipes for all the breads we enjoy making on a daily basis in our small soho kitchen. if you have the time, you should have a go. there are very few things more satisfying than making your own bread. but if you don’t have time, there is no shame at all in buying good quality bread from a professional baker and using that instead.

the one dough that you really must make yourself, however, is pizza dough. it is very simple and opens up a world of possibilities. so it is such a shame that pizza has become the ubiquitous, mass-produced fast food that we see on take-away menus pushed through our letterboxes and stacked high in the freezer cabinets of supermarkets. some of the flavour combinations are so strange that i often find myself shaking my head slowly as i read the descriptions.

in Venice, many of these crimes are perpetrated on a daily basis at the depressing tourist traps where waiters wear striped gondolier shirts and occasionally sing Neapolitan ditties. No wonder the city’s cuisine has such a bad name.

but i have had delightful pizza in italy and in many places outside italy too. the best ones are always the simplest. Pizza needs a very thin base and sparse topping. Just as with any other dish, the combination of ingredients should be balanced, subtle and complementary. Less is more.

asPaRagus, taLeggio & sPeCk PiZZettaTaleggio is one of those cheeses with a smell that announces its arrival before you see it. It has a strong and pungent aroma but a reasonably mild and fruity flavour. Its soft and yielding texture means that it melts particularly well, too. We love using Taleggio as a base for pizza and it works marvellously with asparagus and speck; the sweetness of the cheese contrasts with the salty tang of the smoked ham.

Speck is a cold-smoked, de-boned ham and is available in good Italian delicatessens. You should ask for it to be sliced very thinly indeed.

For one pizzetta:2 asparagus spears1 large golf-ball-sized piece of pizza dough – see page 621 small handful of grated block mozzarella – the hard, cheap kind1 small handful of grated taleggio3 very thin slices of speckextra virgin olive oilblack pepper

Preheat your oven to its highest setting (250°C/gas 9 or above). at the same time put a pizza stone or baking sheet in the oven to heat up.

blanch the asparagus spears in salted boiling water for 2 minutes. Remove them and plunge into ice cold water for a minute before slicing each of the spears into 5 pieces on the diagonal.

Roll out the dough to around 20cm in diameter. evenly distribute the cheeses over the base. scatter the cut asparagus pieces onto the surface. Place the pizzetta on the pizza stone or baking sheet in your very hot oven for around 5–7 minutes.

When the pizza is done, lay the thinly sliced speck over the top with a few folds to create some height and just before serving, sprinkle a little olive oil onto the surface and grind over a little pepper.

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asPaRagus, taLeggio & sPeCk PiZZettaTaleggio is one of those cheeses with a smell that announces its arrival before you see it. It has a strong and pungent aroma but a reasonably mild and fruity flavour. Its soft and yielding texture means that it melts particularly well, too. We love using Taleggio as a base for pizza and it works marvellously with asparagus and speck; the sweetness of the cheese contrasts with the salty tang of the smoked ham.

Speck is a cold-smoked, de-boned ham and is available in good Italian delicatessens. You should ask for it to be sliced very thinly indeed.

For one pizzetta:2 asparagus spears1 large golf-ball-sized piece of pizza dough – see page 621 small handful of grated block mozzarella – the hard, cheap kind1 small handful of grated taleggio3 very thin slices of speckextra virgin olive oilblack pepper

Preheat your oven to its highest setting (250°C/gas 9 or above). at the same time put a pizza stone or baking sheet in the oven to heat up.

blanch the asparagus spears in salted boiling water for 2 minutes. Remove them and plunge into ice cold water for a minute before slicing each of the spears into 5 pieces on the diagonal.

Roll out the dough to around 20cm in diameter. evenly distribute the cheeses over the base. scatter the cut asparagus pieces onto the surface. Place the pizzetta on the pizza stone or baking sheet in your very hot oven for around 5–7 minutes.

When the pizza is done, lay the thinly sliced speck over the top with a few folds to create some height and just before serving, sprinkle a little olive oil onto the surface and grind over a little pepper.

bReaDsbReaDs

goat’s Cheese, RoasteD gRaPe & WaLNut bRusChetteYou will find the combination of cheese and fruit in many areas of Italian cooking and with good reason: they work so well together. There is even a proverb about not telling the peasants how sublime this combination is (see page 207).

This bruschetta is a delicious marriage of deep flavours and contrasting textures. It is very easy to make and incredibly impressive when presented and eaten. You should use a mild, soft goat’s cheese, such as Italian caprino, and any type of seedless grapes that you like.

For two bruschette:10 grapes – any seedless variety1 small handful of picked thyme leavesextra virgin olive oil flaky sea salt and black pepper10 walnut halves2 thick slices of good sourdough or soda bread½ garlic clove1 large handful of soft, crumbly goat’s cheeseRunny honey

Preheat the oven to 190ºC/gas 5. you need two separate baking trays; one for the grapes and one for the walnuts. scatter the grapes on one with almost all of the thyme, a little olive oil, salt and pepper. shake the tray a few times to coat the grapes and place in the oven for 10–15 minutes until they are starting to colour. shake the walnuts with a little olive oil only and pop those in for just 5–6 minutes. Remove both from the oven and set aside.

toast or grill the slices of bread so that they are crunchy on the outside but still have a good degree of give when squeezed. Rub one side of each slice a few times with the cut side of the garlic clove. the clove will melt into the bread’s hot surface. Drizzle with some olive oil.

Crumble the goat’s cheese onto the grilled bread. add the roasted grapes and walnuts. these should still be nicely warm. Drizzle with a little good quality runny honey. Cut each slice of bruschetta lengthways, scatter over the remaining thyme leaves and serve.

bReaDsbReaDs

goat’s Cheese, RoasteD gRaPe & WaLNut bRusChetteYou will find the combination of cheese and fruit in many areas of Italian cooking and with good reason: they work so well together. There is even a proverb about not telling the peasants how sublime this combination is (see page 207).

This bruschetta is a delicious marriage of deep flavours and contrasting textures. It is very easy to make and incredibly impressive when presented and eaten. You should use a mild, soft goat’s cheese, such as Italian caprino, and any type of seedless grapes that you like.

For two bruschette:10 grapes – any seedless variety1 small handful of picked thyme leavesextra virgin olive oil flaky sea salt and black pepper10 walnut halves2 thick slices of good sourdough or soda bread½ garlic clove1 large handful of soft, crumbly goat’s cheeseRunny honey

Preheat the oven to 190ºC/gas 5. you need two separate baking trays; one for the grapes and one for the walnuts. scatter the grapes on one with almost all of the thyme, a little olive oil, salt and pepper. shake the tray a few times to coat the grapes and place in the oven for 10–15 minutes until they are starting to colour. shake the walnuts with a little olive oil only and pop those in for just 5–6 minutes. Remove both from the oven and set aside.

toast or grill the slices of bread so that they are crunchy on the outside but still have a good degree of give when squeezed. Rub one side of each slice a few times with the cut side of the garlic clove. the clove will melt into the bread’s hot surface. Drizzle with some olive oil.

Crumble the goat’s cheese onto the grilled bread. add the roasted grapes and walnuts. these should still be nicely warm. Drizzle with a little good quality runny honey. Cut each slice of bruschetta lengthways, scatter over the remaining thyme leaves and serve.

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118 119

LiNguiNe VoNgoLeThis dish has taken on something of a legendary status for me. Just saying or hearing those six syllables takes me back to the first time I ever tried linguine vongole.

It was Venice, of course, and it was an over-lit, busy and brash canteen of a place called Ai Quattro Feri, just off Campo San Barnaba. The pasta dishes were only on offer to share – in other words, the minimum order was for two people. I was on my own, but they wouldn’t prepare a single portion. I thought I could leave what I wasn’t able to eat and ordered the Linguine Vongole for two.

The dish that arrived was huge; a mound of steaming, glistening pasta punctuated with chopped parsley and at least 30 delightful little clams, the whole thing smelling wonderfully of garlic and powerfully of the sea. Of course, there wasn’t a scrap left ten minutes later.

For four:1kg good clams300g linguineextra virgin olive oil2 teaspoons dried chilli flakesflaky sea salt1 large garlic clove, very finely chopped250ml white wine1 large handful of flat parsley leaves, choppedCrusty bread, to serve

it’s all about timing. get a deep pan of salted water on the boil while you clean the clams by washing them vigorously under cold running water. scrub if necessary and discard any clams that are cracked or remain open when tapped.

When your water has started to fully boil, place the linguine in carefully and stir slowly once or twice. add a slug of olive oil to the water and bring down to a gentle boil. meanwhile, put a very wide frying pan on a medium flame and heat 2 more tablespoons of olive oil.

When the pasta has been boiling for about 3½ minutes, it means it has about 3½ more minutes to go before being perfectly al dente. it is essential that neither the clams nor the pasta overcook. be very strict with timings. so now throw the clams into the hot oil pan, add the dried chilli, a pinch of salt and the garlic and stir until the clams start to open. this will take no more than 2 minutes. Discard any clams that are still closed. add the white wine and cover the pan with a lid.

Drain the pasta just retaining a small amount of the cooking water. Quick. toss the pasta into the clams with the retained cooking water

and add the chopped parsley, a few more glugs of olive oil and stir all the ingredients through. take off the heat and check the seasoning.

your pan will be a steaming mini masterpiece. Put it onto the table with 4 large shallow bowls, 4 forks, a big bowl to throw the empty shells into, a bottle of chilled sauvignon blanc and some crusty bread (ignore what the purists say about never serving bread with pasta – how else are you going to slurp up those lovely juices at the end?). forget all conversation for the next 10 minutes.

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