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.

Potato and porcini mushroom soup

 

 

 

 

There was a time in my life when I woke up every morning to what is considered one of the most breathtaking views in the world. The Dolomites, that unique part of the Italian Alps that turns pink during sunrise and sunset, were so much a part of my everyday life that I barely noticed them outside of my window.

 

I am sure that being a teenager at the time didn't help my indifference to nature, busy as I was whispering with my girlfriends, listening to my Walkman, sometimes doing homework but mostly daydreaming about some guy I had met the day before out on the slopes. In boarding school you rarely stop to smell the roses, to breathe in the fresh mountain air, to look at the silver pine trees or admire the snow sparkling in the sun.

 

Now, however, whenever I get the chance to go to the mountains - any mountains - things are very different. I gasp at the beauty that surrounds me, I rejoice in watching my children run in the tall grass and wild flowers or making snow angels in the winter. I realize those years changed me without me even noticing it. The mountains have stayed within me, in my heart and soul, and few places make me feel so at peace.

 

 

 

 

I already wrote about going back to visit those mountains. Once every few years we visit an old friend. Our kids play together, our husbands talk airplanes (seriously, how many chances are there that your high school bestie will marry a guy who is as obsessed with civil aviation as yours is?) and we reminisce about how silly and boy crazy we were (did I mention the boarding school was not co-ed?) and about the ups and downs of being a teenager. We still giggle and there is still wine, but it is no longer hidden away in a pillowcase inside a shoebox in a suitcase somewhere in the back of our closet.

 

My friend and I also sometimes collaborate. This recipe was part of a project we worked on and I couldn't not share it with you, my friends. It is a recipe from La cucina delle Dolomiti by Dino Dibona and was chosen to allow tourists to easily recreate the flavors of those mountains in their own home.  To make this you simply have to procure a package of dried porcini mushrooms, an ideal ingredient to carry back in your suitcase because they are so lightweight. If, on the other hand, you haven't been skiing in the Dolomites, luckily for you dried porcini are nowadays readily available almost anywhere and although they are pricey, a few go a long way.

 

 

 

 

In this essential and effortless soup the (once) humble ingredients really shine through. In old times people from these valleys used to prepare this kind of meal to fill their bellies and warm their bodies during the freezing months using what was available to them from farming and foraging. Potatoes held well all winter and mushrooms were plentiful in the fall and were then sliced and dried for the colder months.

 

What I loved most about the soup is the incredible flavor these few ingredients can create when combined: its is so much more than the sum of its parts. The texture is wonderful too: the soft, sweet  potato nuggets absorb all that flavor and the mushrooms add a subtle earthiness and chew. Every bite tastes and smells like you are walking through the forest, dark fronds towering over you, your steps softly sinking into the warm, dry mossy carpet.

 

 

Ingredients (4 servings)

600gr/3 medium-sized potatoes
1 liter/4 cups/35 oz. vegetable stock
100gr/3.5 oz. fresh porcini mushrooms or 50gr/1.7oz. dried porcini
50gr butter/about 3tbsp butter (or oil for a vegan recipe)
1 yellow onion

2 garlic cloves

chives, for garnish

 

Peel and thinly slice the potatoes. Peel and finely chop the onion and garlic. Clean and roughly chop the mushrooms if you are using fresh porcini. If you are using dried porcini (like I did), rinse them quickly with cold water and then soak in hot (but not boiling) water for up to an hour. Set aside the liquid when you drain them.

 

Melt the butter in a pot over low heat and add the potatoes, onion and garlic. Sauté for about 3 minutes, mixing constantly.

Pour in the stock, bring to a boil and simmer covered for about 20 minutes.

Add the porcini mushrooms. If you are using dried mushrooms, pour in part of the remaining liquid for extra flavor. 

Raise the heat and cook for another 10  minutes. Garnish with finely chopped chives and serve.

 

 

 

Pasta with dried porcini and prosciutto ragout

This is a post about ends. A long-awaited end and prosciutto ends.

But before the end, the beginning.

Yesterday my day started at my local police station and ended about 8 hours later in the central immigration office. Well, to be exact it started several months ago with endless phone calls, trips to various municipal offices and the Consulate, but you know that already.

I am now the proud holder of a permanent resident visa after decades of renewals, endless lines and many moments of distress. I still cannot believe it, I still am scared to even put it down in writing lest the law change and someone in uniform come knock on my door and take that precious slip of paper from me.

I think immigration is a nightmare wherever you are, what makes the difference in this country is the uncertainty of the outcome. Usually you know where you are going, what you have to do, what you have to bring. If all the requisites are there, you get what you went for and if they are not, you just don’t.

Not here. Laws change quicker than a model at a fashion show. What was valid yesterday may not be today, what was a fact the last time you called that office is now dubious. I think I got about ten different versions of how to renew my permit and what papers to present over a few weeks. I filled out forms and sent kits and was handed computer-generated appointments only to find my self once again filling in the same paper form I used ten years ago after a day at immigration last week and a broken down computer system. I paid fees at the post office only to find out that the new fiscal budget, which became effective on the day I sent in my kit, required an additional €200,00 payment. Then I ended up not paying a thing. I did not question that.

Now, I understand and admire the people working in these offices. They find themselves having to explain a system they don’t understand themselves to hundreds of foreigners who do not speak a word of Italian. They are constantly interrupted in their work by impatient, angry and somewhat desperate people asking all kinds of questions. Also, let us not forget that until recently Italy was a country of emigrants and it has not yet quite learned to deal with the soaring levels of immigration of the past two decades. To make things worse, public funding is at a minimum and more than one officer complained that they did not even have paper to print on (one actually asked me if he could use a copy I didn’t need to print something out for me on the other side. I kid you not).

Then again there is the other kind of employee: comfortably seated behind a glass partitioning who is rude, arrogant and impatient. The kind who raises his voice and treats people differently according to the color of their skin, their passport, their clothes even. The kind who forgot that at least one person in his family probably emigrated to the US, South America, Australia or some country in Europe. I am aware these people exist everywhere, not just here, and whenever I watch these things happening I feel a tightening in my chest.

I can count myself lucky as I am usually treated civilly once they hear my fluent Italian and see my US passport. Being a woman can be helpful too, but then again it may work against you according to who you end up dealing with. After many years, I have learned my way around. I bring pretty much any document I own with me (my husband teased me the other day when I wondered if I should bring some totally unrelated papers with me, which I incidentally ended up using) and copies of them all.

Yesterday I was given at least three reasons why I couldn’t renew my visa:

I didn’t have my husband’s tax returns with me (hello, I work, this is the 21^st century, I have my tax returns with me).

I didn’t bring a certificate of family status with me (hello again, the Municipality offices gave me this paper – pull out – saying that as of 1 January 2012 they can no longer issue this paper for residents using them in PA offices. The PA must contact them directly. And by the way my children and husband’s social security numbers are on my tax returns).

I was told I had to go to another office for my specific case and when I did, they asked me (after waiting for 80 numbers before my turn) why I had gone there for the renewal (uhm, because you sent an email to the officer I was talking to asking him to send me over). I was then warned that the new law no longer envisaged ten-year renewals, the maximum was five. Bummer. So, how did I end up with a permanent visa? Once again, I am not asking.

I gave my Oscar-worthy performance: I played the helpless blonde with the grateful smile, I played the sympathetic friend who fully grasps the difficulties of being a public official, I played the taxpayer filled with indignation, I played the hard working feminist who supports two Italian citizens and I played the graduate from law school pulling out laws and lists.

Whatever I did it worked and I am grateful for what I was given. I just wish everybody on every line in every office could feel how I feel today, the relief, the joy. But I unfortunately know that will not be the case.

Now to the prosciutto end. This pasta is packed with flavor thanks to the prosciutto and with umami from the dried mushrooms. In Italy you can buy the end part of a prosciutto leg, that little piece that you can no longer slice with the machine. Sort of like that last little part of the pencil you can no longer sharpen. This works fine of course with some lovely sliced prosciutto too, but if they are slicing it freshly for you, ask them to make thicker slices. Otherwise, try asking at the counter for that endpiece, you might get lucky. Amounts here vary depending on how many people you are making this for, so I will give you a general idea.

Porcini mushroom barley soup (zuppa d'orzo ai porcini)

Here is a list of things I will not do at the beginning of this new year:

1) I will spare you my 2011 review post with photos and links to favorite recipes. YAWN. Was that me or you? My point being, I will not bore myself or you (at least not intentionally), so let’s just make a pact: you are more than welcome to browse around this blog whenever you feel like it and put key words into the search box if you are looking for something specific and I will keep linking to past posts here and there so you can discover some "hidden jems". This however doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the many review posts out there, I did. I just can’t be bothered.

2) I am not going to describe what I did and did not eat this holiday. First of all, because I pretty much ingurgitated all life forms present on this planet in the past weeks, animal and vegetable (or fruit in the form of fermented, liquid grapes), so making a list would be pretty unnecessary. Secondly, because you are probably sick of hearing that voice (be it in your head or in every post you have read in the last week) whine "I am sooo full, I ate too much, I think I will explode". Come on, really, you know you loved gorging yourself silly, you could've stopped any time, so just shut up and stop complaining already! And last but not least, because you don’t really care how many friggin' slices of smoked salmon, panettone or turkey I ate, since it is not your tushy that will expand a size as a result. Wait, is that a chocolate-covered-marzipan-Christmas-tree-shaped lump of cellulite on my right thigh or am I just seeing things?

3) I will not write a bunch of NYE resolutions because you just recently read my Thanksgiving list of what I am thankful for and you are still recovering. This is another win-win situation (see point 1): no stifling yawns on your side and no promises to live up to or public failures to admit to for moi in December 2012.

4) I am not posting a 120 calorie detox recipe made with goji berries and seaweed to make you feel better/less guilty. What I am posting is a recipe that is healthy (it includes most food groups: grains, healthy fats, vegetables, protein, dairy), comforting (because it is after all the height of winter for many of us) and easy (you probably don’t want to slave over a meal now that the cooking marathon is finally over). This dish is served in varying forms pretty much all over the Alps and can be made as a vegetarian or even a vegan dish by leaving out respectively one or two ingredients at most.

And...I wish you all a very Happy New Year! May 2012 be all you hoped for and thank you for following me into the new year.

Ingredients

500gr pearl barley

dried porcini mushrooms (small to medium sized bag)

100gr smoked pancetta or bacon

2 small or 1 large carrot

2 celery stalks

1 small onion

1 or 2 garlic cloves

5 cups ca. of vegetable stock

a handful of chopped fresh parsley

olive oil

Parmesan cheese

pepper

Pour enough olive oil into a pot to cover the bottom. Soak the dried mushrooms (a small bag will take you a long way) in a bowl with hot water, making sure you just cover them. Cut the garlic into large pieces (or mince it if you like a stronger flavor) and prepare a roughly chopped mirepoix with the onion, celery and carrots and cook until toothsome. I bought pre-diced smoked pancetta but you can just as easily chop up slices of bacon or ham if you have them handy. Cook with the vegetables until golden brown and then add in the barley, letting in toast in the hot oil for a couple of minutes. By now the mushrooms should have softened so you can squeeze out the excess liquid, making sure you do not discard it! It will give to the soup extra flavor. Roughly chop the mushrooms, add them in with the rest and pour in the soaking liquid and about 5 cups of water, depending on how thick and hearty you like your soup. Simmer for about 20 minutes, until the barley is cooked through and serve with a drizzle of olive oil, freshly ground black pepper, chopped parsley and a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese. Skip the Parmesan cheese and/or the pancetta if you are making a vegetarian or vegan soup.