Trattoria dei Bracconieri - a different way to spend a day on Lake Como

 

 

 

The great thing about living in a city like Milan is its proximity to so many beautiful and interesting places. And although Milan may not be considered as beautiful as other Italian towns and cities, it makes up for its looks with lots of glamour and its strategic positioning: whether you are into nature, history, architecture, art or just plain good food, when visiting Milan all you have to do is pick.

The Alps (some of the most beautiful mountains in the world), Italy's three most impressive lakes (Como, Maggiore, Garda), lovely cities (Brescia, Como, Bergamo, Turin, Mantova, Venice, Bologna) and stunning coasts (Portofino, Cinque Terre)  are just a short drive away. Not to mention the proximity of Tuscany and Rome and several European countries (France, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, Slovenia, Croatia) if you have a couple of days to spare.

 

 

When it comes to food, Milan has a lot to boast too: Michelin-starred restaurants, historical eateries, places you go to see and be seen; but I figure that if you are reading a food blog and you are planning a trip over, you probably have already researched and easily found all the information you need.

 

 

 

This is the main reason I don't blog about restaurants very often. This and the fact that I have two little ones, which have somewhat diminished my fancy dining experiences of late. So when I do write about a place they are usually places in the area that I discover with my family: good food, reasonable prices, child-friendly (which doesn't per se mean they are full of loud, screaming children - just that they are casual enough to bring children), the kind of place you will not find in a guide or that your hotel will most likely not recommend because they simply aren't on the radar. I tell you about the kind of off-the-beaten-track places I would like to know about when I travel.

 

 

 

Last week we took an American friend who was staying with us to Como. It had been raining for days when he arrived and because it is the middle of winter, it did not seem like the best time to take a boat ride to see the famous and impressive villas that surround the lake. Our plan was to take him to the city that has become the lake's namesake, Como, a town whose historical wealth (thanks to silk manufacturing and because it is a border town) is reflected in its opulent architecture, definitely worth seeing.

We however wanted our friend to be able to admire the beauty of the lake so we decided to take the funicular up to the town of Brunate, a place none of us had ever been. After a little research we found a place that perfectly suited our  needs: a simple, rustic trattoria. A place that offered a view and, according to comments on Tripadvisor, not bad, overpriced food for tourists.

Tortino di polenta e ragù (baked polenta and ragù) or how to present leftovers in fancy disguise

Cooking can sometimes be deceptive.
 

You may spend hours in your kitchen making something (homemade cappelletti is one recipe that comes to mind) that gets eaten up in mere moments without much thought and then sometimes you make something of utmost simplicity that is received with grand applause.

 

In the kitchen, like in real life, sometimes looks count more than substance.

 

 

Like the slutty girl with the too-tight mini dress, the plastic boobs and lacking brilliant conversational skills that manages to turn every head in a one-mile radius, some dishes get all the attention without really deserving it.

 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying these girls recipes aren't good, because they are, but they don't involve all the attention and expertise others do.

 

If you have leftover polenta and ragù (or some stew, or come to think of it any other type of leftover, because this girl gets around polenta goes with pretty much anything), it will literally take five minutes to prepare and a half hour tops to bake.

 

So I present to you the tart (no pun intended) of leftovers: the tortino di polenta e ragù, 'tortino' literally translating into 'little tart' in English.
 

 

 



When making polenta you can go two ways*: the real way, which involves lengthy stirring or electric devices you would only consider buying if you owned a ski pad in the Italian Alps, or the use of instant polenta. There is not doubt that the real deal is better, in flavor and texture, as all things made from scratch. But the difference is subtle enough, especially when baking or frying the polenta afterwards, to justify (unlike instant mashed potatoes) using the quick-cooking variety.

Whichever way you decide to make your polenta, you will most likely have some leftovers because polenta just happens to be one of those dishes people tend to make in large quantities. Ragu being another: I usually make it in large batches and tuck some away in my freezer for emergencies.

If you don't have any ragù, a whole list of delicious leftovers you can use come to mind: all kinds of vegetables (broccoli rabe sauteed with olive oil, garlic and anchovies anyone? or mushrooms with parsley and garlic), bits and pieces of leftover cheeses, any sort of fish cooked in sauce (codfish works wonderfully), mozzarella and ham... the list just goes on and on.

 

Ingredients
ragù
polenta
butter
Parmesan cheese, grated
pepper
olive oil (optional)

Polenta

1.1 lbs/500gr polenta

9 cups/2 l water

1 tbsp olive oil

salt

 

To make the polenta (if starting from scratch) the old fashioned way, bring water to a boil, reduce heat and salt the water to taste. Add in a tablespoon of olive oil and then slowly pour in the polenta (to avoid lumps forming), stirring constantly with a wooden spoon or whisk until the polenta has thickened. This takes anywhere up to 45-60 minutes. If the polenta is getting too thick you can loosen it by adding some water as you go along. Mix in any ingredients (cheese, butter etc.) you intend to use and pour it out onto a smooth surface, like a cutting board, or into a bowl and let stand for a few minutes before serving. I usually keep mine a little runny because that is the way I prefer it and it makes it easier to work with leftovers.

If going instant, just read the instructions on the back of the package.

Pour the polenta (or spread leftovers with a spatula) into a greased baking pan. Spread over a layer of ragù or whatever else you are using. Sprinkle with some grated Parmesan cheese and keep layering until you have finished using up the leftovers. Sprinkle with a last dusting of grated Parmesan cheese, add a few flakes of butter and bake in a preheated oven (375°F/180°C) for about 30 minutes, until the top and sides turn golden and crusty and the filling is nicely heated.

Using a deep pastry ring (what they call a coppapasta in Italian), cut out circles from the pan and serve on small individual plates. Dust with Parmesan cheese, pepper and trickle of olive oil and serve.

 

 

*While writing this post I actually discovered there are other ways to make polenta from scratch that are much simpler. There is a 12-minute microwave version and another one involving a great amount of time (more than 3 hours) but very little stirring. Who knew? I intend to try them at some point and let you know.

Amor Polenta

Up until the beginning of the Twentieth century, polenta was a staple of northern Italian peasants, to such an extent that the inhabitants of regions like Lombardy, Piedmont and Veneto often suffered from pellagra, a disease caused by the lack of Vitamin B3 in corn. So much so, that polentone (literally polenta eater) became a derogatory term for southern Italians to call their northern counterparts.

Polenta is still a well-loved comfort food and a favored accompaniment, in its unadultered form or studded with lovely melted pockets of cheese, for winter dishes such as slow cooked meats, sausage, stews and mushrooms. In Veneto, white polenta often makes its appearance, creamy or grilled, alongside fish (usually baccalà, dried salted cod).
 

 

 

Funnily enough cornmeal is not a common ingredient in other traditional recipes. Sure, I have seen random cookies, loaves of bread and even pasta for the gluten intolerant, but there is no  Mediterranean version of corn muffins or cheesy corn studded cornbread.

There is however one exception: Amor Polenta, a corn and almond meal-based pound cake that was created in the Lombard city of Varese and that is as a consequence also known by the name of Dolce di Varese. It is a simple cake (and very quick to mix up), to be enjoyed with a cup of afternoon tea, for merenda (the mid-afternoon snack of all Italian children), for breakfast or as an unpretentious dessert. It tastes like home. Yet, despite its modesty, the cornmeal adds a delicate crackle when you bite into it and the hint of rum is warming and unexpected.

 

It is normally made in a traditional rounded and ridged loaf pan but I don't make it often enough to justify buying one. I am not excited by the obvious alternative, a loaf pan, because I feel this utterly simple cake deserves a little extra decoration, so I use my kugelhopf tin filled halfway. Ingredients are in grams but you can use the converter link at the top of the blog.

Madesimo: Dogana Vegia and Osteria Vegia

I haven’t settled back into my cooking routine yet, mostly because my fridge hasn’t seen a real shopping since before the holidays. Since we got back I have used up pretty much every boring leftover I could in the freezer (so why is it still so full?), I have started opening jars of expired Laksa paste and used my last bag of dried beans. I can’t wait to fill the kitchen with fresh fruit, vegetables and herbs and start cooking up some recipes for 2012.

What I did do is some eating out on the aforementioned holidays, so if you ever happen to be in my corner of the world here are a few tips for where to get a good meal.

We had more than one lovely meal with family and good friends in this charming restaurant tucked away in Madesimo (Valchiavenna) called Dogana Vegia. The owner Dario and his lovely wife Brita and daughter Nadine make each and every meal a cozy and pleasant experience. The dishes served are traditional mountain recipes, but with a little twist: a touch of ginger here, an unexpected cut of meat there (braised buffalo meat to die for...unfortunately the picture I took in the dark was out of focus so you'll have got to take my word for it). This may not be haute cuisine, but quality is a guarantee and you go there for the unique ambience and hospitality as much as for the food.

The building, what remained of a 17^th century custom house (thus its name, literally the Old Custom House) and inn for travellers, was painstakingly restored by the family over the years. Walking through the rooms brings you back to a time long gone. Dario used antique lumber sourced throughout Italy for the refurbishment and covered the whitewashed and wood panelled walls with works of art, old farming tools and everyday utensils that helped people survive in the mountains over the centuries. The light comes from a fire crackling in the hearth, fairy lights and candles on every table (a much appreciated touch often lacking in Italian restaurants).

Part of the abundant house antipasto: porcini mushrooms preserved in olive oil

The music, mostly a mix of favorite Italian oldies from the Fifties and Sixties, is not exactly folkloristic but more an indication of this place’s second nature, a pub in the late hours. You will often catch your host walking to or from the kitchen whenever a cow bell rings, singing a tune. While you pay the bill (about €45 per person for a meal complete with wine a-plenty and a homebaked dessert) you might get lucky: Dario generously offered us a round of homemade blueberry grappa (divine) both times to face the harsh winter cold that awaited us outside.

The local pizzoccheri bianchi with mountain cheese, butter and garlic

Kid goat with polenta

Cervo in salmì: venison stewed in aromatic wine sauce (apparently one of the best F has ever had)

Nadine is lovely with children and made us feel extremely welcome, but for those of you who don’t have kids, no worries, it is certainly not your typical family restaurant. We went for an early dinner and back for lunch the next time, so as to allow people to enjoy the peaceful, romantic atmosphere without disturbance.

Grolla or caffé alla fiamma

Before we knew we would be drinking grappa to top it off, we ordered a grolla for my family to taste, a tradition of this area of the Alps consisting in coffee mixed with grappa that comes in an artisanal wooden decorated cup with as many spouts as the people drinking it. It is lit and brought to the table, where you then proceed to spoon the liquid over the sugar on the rim to sweeten it. The longer you let it burn, the less alcoholic it becomes, naturally. When you are ready to drink, you just close the hole with the spoon to kill the flame.

Last but not least, if you are going for lunch I strongly recommend you walk along the river to get there, immersed in a breathtaking winter (or spring/summer/fall) wonderland. It is a good 20/30 minute walk from town and a little uphill (but hey, downhill on the way back!), however I promise you will be glad you did it after the butter and cheese and polenta.

Another great meal awaits you in a restaurant with a similar name in the town of Madesimo, Osteria Vegia. This place was already a favorite of the poet Carducci who used to sit in one of the rooms to enjoy a cup of wine and a game of cards at the end of the 19th century. The place has kept its authentic low ceilings, wood finishings and small windows and doorways. It is a nice, quaint little place for an Italian-style hot chocolate or a bombardino (a warm, strong egg-based liquer) after a day of skiing or hiking but also probably the best place in town for its pizzoccheri. Wait, let me rephrase that: the pizzoccheri neri (from the nearby Valtellina, not to be confused with the less famous pizzoccheri bianchi made in this valley, Valchiavenna, photographed above) I had there are the best I have ever had anywhere. So if you go, my suggestion is to order a nice plate of bresaola (dried, cured beef also typical of Valtellina, but well loved all over Italy) to start, a piping hot, cheesy, garlicy plate of pizzocheri afterwards, and if you are still hungry a nice plate of grilled meat to end. And then you will love me and hate me at the same time, hehe.

  

Pizzoccheri neri: handmade buckwheat pasta with crispy garlic (yes, those brown chips), cabbage, butter and mountain cheese. Don't you just love those plates?

Have a great week end my friends!

Crock pot pulled pork and a secret ingredient

Here is the post I promised on Sunday, the one that called for BBQ sauce.

Before I go into lengthy descriptions I just wanted to say this recipe is for my friend Y.

Why you ask?

First of all she just got her first Le Creuset for her birthday so I am psyched that my next few posts involve my beloved, appropriately pumpkin-colored crock pot.

Second of all, the girl grew up in Houston so I thought a real Southern, meaty dish served with BBQ sauce couldn't be more appropriate.

Third, the girl loves Coke.

Coke? What does Coke have to do with it?

Butt

Ok, so let me start from the beginning.

Several moons ago, and I mean several, that same girl was pregnant with a baby who is almost two now. She and her husband and first child were visiting in us in Milan and I bought a six pack of caffeine-free Coke for her to drink while we enjoyed a glass of wine or beer or whatever is was we were drinking. Well, a few of those cans were still lurking in a corner of my kitchen until recently. I usually don't keep soft drinks in the house, soda is a rare treat for my kids. But lately they had started noticing those red and gold cans. Asking about them, hinting they wanted some. A lot. I had to get rid of them.

Fast forward to  a few days ago, when I was rightly so, gawking at pictures on Foodgawker of pulled pork sandwiches. I had been reading recipes for pulled pork long before I got my Le Creuset last year. I had some friends coming over for dinner and I decided the time had come. I came across quite a few recipes that used Coke as one of the main ingredients to make this delicacy. I realized it wasn't authentic, and I have to admit it sounded a little revolting at first but the more I thought about it the more it made sense. I was sure the Coke would tenderize the meat fabulously, and realized the sugar and other aromas would somehow work. Plus, it would be a great way to get rid of those cans. So that is how I killed my proverbial pig birds with one stone.

Shoulder

The result was melt-in-your-mouth, flavorful meat that I served alongside white polenta (which I in turn served again with leftovers grilled) and doused in the home made barbecue sauce. I certainly made for a different meal here in the Old Continent and a succulent one if I may add. Whatever you do, make lots so you can enjoy left overs, perhaps one of those sandwiches that triggered this whole post.

Also, need I add that this is the perfect meal to prepare when you have a lot of other things going on and you want a great result without too much effort?

Adapted from food.com

Ingredients

about 2kg pork roast (I got one piece shoulder and one piece butt)

2 pressed garlic cloves

3 small onions sliced thinly

1/4 tsp black pepper, freshly ground

1/4 tsp Pimenton de la Vera (or cayenne pepper), ground

1 tsp liquid smoke

3 cans of Coca-Cola (or enough to cover the meat; if it doesn't turn the pieces a few times)

a pinch of salt 

barbecue sauce 

Soften the onions in some oil in the crock pot. Place the meat in the pot, add in the garlic, pepper and Pimenton de la Vera, the liquid smoke and the Coca-Cola. Set the meat on low heat and cook for 8-10 hours. When ready, remove from the pot, remove bones and trim fat. Use a fork to begin pulling the pork apart. You can serve the barbecue sauce mixed in. I preferred to serve it with a little of the cooking liquid mixed in to keep it moist and drizzled the sauce on top.

The result was delicious, exactly how I imagined it, although I might add a little salt next time I make it (so I included it in the ingredients - you know, to contrast the sweetness). Of the two pieces I preferred the shoulder as it is a fattier cut (which made it more tender) with a more complex flavor, but both were fall-apart soft.

Rustic polenta cookies

I love colorful macarons filled with tasty rich buttercream, chewy chocolate chip cookies studded with nuts and buttery shortbread just as much as the next person. Sometimes however, I want something more simple, more wholesome. A cookie that is not too rich or too sweet, something a little old fashioned, rustic, that I can enjoy with my morning coffee. The kind of hard cookie that softens perfectly when you dunk it into a glass of cold milk without crumbling.

I am a sucker for anything with cornflour/meal in it. I like corn muffins, cakes and cookies, especially when they have an unrefined, almost gritty texture. A friend bought some at a farmer's market a few weeks ago that were perfect: not too sweet, not too delicate, just buttery enough. I was set on replicating them in my kitchen.

When I started hunting for recipes, most of them called for more regular flour than cornflour/meal, but I wanted the latter to really shine through. Then I finally found one that had a higher cornflour/meal content. I tweeked it a little, increasing the minimal amount of butter suggested and using polenta (which is supposedly not ground as finely). Next time I will also cut the sugar, because the cookies were a touch sweet for my taste, but besides that they turned out just right, as Goldilocks would say.

Ingredients

200gr polenta

120gr flour

1tsp baking powder

1/2tsp vanilla extract

130gr sugar (next time I will use less!)
90gr butter

1 egg

Melt the butter and let cool. Whisk the egg with the sugar and butter until smooth and then add in the polenta and the regular flour (after sifting it with the baking powder). Kneed the dough and let rest in the fridge for a half hour and then roll it out between two sheets of baking paper. I found the kneeding a little tricky because I couldn't get the dough to stick together. The recipe I found in a forum called for half the amount of butter but the dough was much too "sandy" to stick so I doubled it. Use a shot glass (like I did) or a cookie cutter, cut out the cookies, lay them on a baking sheet and bake for approximately 10 minutes in a 360°F/180°C preheated oven.

Sweet polenta bread. Are you a purist or not?

Let me just clarify: I am not trying to be fancy. I am not calling this recipe polenta bread instead of plain old corn bread because I want to give myself airs. The truth is I used polenta flour in it and my impression is that it is ground a little coarser than corn meal. I am however not so sure about this anymore, after some research on the Internet. There seem to be very discordant opinions. Some vouch they are exactly the same thing, others say the flour used to make polenta is coarser. Who knows? What matters is that they are pretty interchangeable and so let's just say I called it polenta bread in honor of the country I live in.

Before you read this, I apologize to all corn bread purists. I know to you corn bread is sacred and I will understand perfectly if you skip on to another post with mild annoyance. It has happened to me many a time and a few posts I read this morning got me thinking. How important is it to exactly execute a traditional recipe? Is there a right way to cook something in the world we live in today, where everything is going global and fusion is ever more popular?  In a world where food bloggers are inspiring each other to cook recipes from every corner of the planet, using new ingredients and techniques?

I started thinking about this when I commented on Taste of Beirut's new post. Joumana asked herself why she had never thought of doing something before that saved her lots of time cooking a traditional recipe. My guess is that when you have been taught to do something a certain way, it is so imprinted in your being that it is sometimes hard to think of a simple change that will be helpful and that may seem obvious to someone from another background. Then, when I read Design, Wine & Dine's new post, she mentioned substituting one ingredient for another missing one. Mind you, they are both ingredients that are very much used in that cuisine and I am sure either way, the dish is delicious. But as I read the post after my morning reflections, I couldn't help picturing a Maroccan somewhere tsssk-tsssking because this foreigner had ruined his/her mother's recipe.

Now, I live in a country where tradition is everything. Recipes have been made just so for decades, even centuries. In Italy you cannot even speak of regional cuisine, it is more a local cuisine. I have read endless debates on whether pumpkin ravioli should be made with or without adding amaretto cookie crumbs to the filling. These ravioli are typical of the Mantua area (even this may raise a debate...) and if you move just a few kms north or south the dogma changes. It basically boils down to how your nonna made them. That is the recipe, the only way to make something here.

I think I have already mentioned how Italian men will sit at a restaurant eating a plate of pasta and dissect the recipe, comparing what each of their mothers used when making the same dish. Whole meals are spent talking about food. That is why often it is said that Italian cuisine is one of the best in the world, but that it is a touch too traditional, static. Many of you Italian readers right now are probably thinking your food is so good that there is no need to change it, right?
The complete opposite example is Australia, with its everchanging, innovative cuisine influenced by a variety of cultures and ingredients. It is a reasonably young country and as all things young, it is more open to change.

I will admit to cringing or feeling a little snooty at times when I read how someone cooks a risotto or ruins something as simple as a Caprese. I mean, certain techniques or ingredients were chosen because after years of experimenting they turned out to be the best possible choice for that dish. If something has a name, like the above mentioned Caprese, then why make it with avocado and still call it a Caprese? We all feel that when someone goes and violates something that is a part of our history, our heritage or even simply our family tradition, something we have eaten countless times made that way by someone we love, it is wrong. But then we feel equally free to play around and experiment with recipes from other countries by adding, adjusting or substituting ingredients.

The truth is that sometimes a person with a different cooking experience has a new and fresh take on things and they can teach us that change is not a bad thing. More often than not, change is positive and it is only by experimenting and trying that we can come up with something new and perhaps outstanding.

What do you think? Are you a purist or do you like to be adventurous?

This polenta bread is a sweet version of your typical corn bread. It is perfect with a cup of tea or coffee. You can eat it on its own or spread it with jam. It has a wonderful crumb and is rich and moist. I substituted the cup of milk in the original recipe I found on About.com with 1 cup of ricotta and a 1/3 cup of cream I had in the fridge. I also used olive oil instead of canola oil. I used up all the open dairy products in my fridge and came up with a perfect breakfast.