Minestrone, Italian Vegetable soup

 “Minestra” is the Italian word for soup. Minestrone means “the big soup” and refers to the dish being full of vegetables.

To define a recipe for minestrone is impossible. Every region, every season, and every family have their own recipe. Some use pork fat as a condiment and some simple olive oil, in a pure vegetarian fashion. Some recipes, in Rome for example, call for pasta in it, some don’t. Some are richer in legumes, cabbage, or herbs. In Liguria they add pesto to the minestrone that gives a very flavorful basil aroma to the soup.

My mother was used to make this soup with all the different vegetables that are left in the refrigerator at the end of the week: A good way to avoid wasting food. And if she had a piece of parmigiano or pecorino romano, she would add it to the pot to make it even tastier.

Any kind of seasonal vegetables can be used in a minestrone.  The vegetables are added in short intervals, the tender ones at the end, to avoid overcooking them. My recipe is simple and leafy. Add beans or green peas or cabbage for a more hearty texture.

3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 oz (60 gr) pancetta or un-smoked bacon, finely diced
4 oz (100 gr) onion, finely chopped
4 oz (100 gr) carrots, finely chopped
1 celery stick, finely chopped
1 lb (450 gr) potatoes, in small dice
2 tablespoons Italian parsley, finely chopped
4 oz (100 gr) fresh tomatoes, diced
4 cups (1 liter) homemade broth, or good quality store bought
salt and pepper
1/2 lb (220 gr) zucchini, diced
4 oz (100 gr) lettuce, chopped
4 oz (100 gr) beets, choped
4 oz (100 gr) short "ditali" pasta,  or spaghetti broken  in ½ inch (1 - 2 cm) pieces
4 tablespoons freshly grated parmigiano reggiano cheese

Put in a pot the extra-virgin olive oil, and turn the heat to medium. Add the chopped bacon. When the bacon is browned add the onion. Sauté shortly until the onion becomes soft and translucent. 

Stir in the pot the carrot and celery. Cook shortly.

Add the diced potatoes. Cook for about 1 minute.

Stir in the parsley, and tomatoes. 

Add broth, salt and pepper, and bring to a boil.

After about 10 minutes add zucchini, lettuce, and beets. Cook for 10 more minutes.

 When the vegetables are half cooked but still firm, add the pasta and cook for the time indicated by the manufacturer or taste until is firm but not overcooked (al dente). Correct salts if necessary, add a pinch of pepper, and the the grated parmigiano. Serve warm in soup plates or bowls. Serve lukewarm in the hot season. Add fresh grated parmigiano to the individual dishes, if you like.

Pan Sautéed Fresh Tomatoes

It is no secret that Italians like simple food. The true secret is in using the best tasting, fresh, ripe vegetables. Buy some very ripe ‘on the vine’ small tomatoes, they shouldn’t be too watery, simply drop them in the pan with some garlic and olive oil and enjoy the true taste of the tomato: the most generous vegetable you can have in your pantry. Serve over slices of toasted country bread or simply as a side (contorno) to a dish of meat or fish. And you can use it to dress pasta too...

2 lb (1 kg) fresh, very ripe “on the vine” cherry tomatoes

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

2 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped

pinch of crushed red pepper (optional)

salt

4 slices toasted country bread

 

 Chop the tomatoes with their skin on.

 Place in a skillet the olive oil and garlic. Turn heat to medium.

 When the oil is hot add the tomatoes. Do not let the garlic color.

Cook the tomatoes for about 10 minutes. Let the juices thicken a little.

 Serve as a bruschetta over slices of country bread oir simply as a side (contorno) to a dish of meat or fish.

Misticanza

Recently I commented on a New York Times food blog on an article on wild herbs. It reminded me of the many wild plants we still use (or I should say we should use?) in Italy. Herbs have always been an important factor in Italian cooking. Just think of the role that basil, sage, and rosemary  play in the Italian kitchen, just to mention a few, and you realize how important herbs are in enhancing the taste of dishes. 

These herbs are the domesticated plants that we find in the pots sold at the grocery stores. In reality there are hundreds of edible wild plants and flowers.  You think arugula has strong taste? Wait until you taste wild 'rugola'. Not the tame cultivated one you buy at the store, but the one growing wild like a dreadful  weed. Wow! It is like comparing a domestic dog to a wild coyote. How many people cook with wild fennel, an essential flavor in certain Sicilian dishes? And what about 'mentuccia' the tiny wild mint indispensible to cooking artichokes in the Roman style? I have a stomach ache every time I have to say 'substitute it with parsley'.

Johann Heinrich Wilhelm Tischbein (1751-1829) 

Goethe in the Roman Countryside

“Andare per cicoria", to go look for chicory has a bad connotation in Italian. It means to go an spend your time in some very low level doings. Wild herbs are not comparable to truffles or even to wild mushrooms. Chicory is for peasants not for the refined palate, right?  But who commands our taste buds? I love the taste of truffle as much as a dish of wild chicory 'ripassata' simply sautéed in olive oil and garlic: its bitter taste fills your mouth like an explosion.

I remember when I was a kid it was not unusual to see women in the fields on the countryside of Rome, slowly walking bent to the ground,  looking for something, scavenging with a small knife in their hands. In reality they were looking for edible plants. Still today some women do this as a business and they sell their precious cache at the farmers markets. But finding these treasures of the wild seems to be more and more difficult. Wild plants feel like species in extinction. In reality the ability to find wild herbs is becoming a lost talent. In the continuous push to make everything faster and cheaper, in surrendering to the tendencies of mass marketing, we restrict our choices and we flatten our taste. Maybe it is a sign of age but I think every time we lose a skill, every time we have less choices, we lose a small piece of our identity.  

Wild herbs have so many different tastes... they can be bitter or sweet , pungent or bland... they can be slick or sting you. Put them all together in a salad bowl, in the spring when they are fresh, savory, and tender and you have a “misticanza”. The word in the Roman dialect recalls a mixture... in our case a mix of wild edible herbs of every kind. It is like a symphony of tastes that will play in your mouth.

Buying wild asparagus in Campo de' Fiori farmers market

When I am in Rome there is nothing for me more fun than go to shopping in the 'Campo de Fiori' farmers market. It is the real hearth of the city; it is where you can discover the real soul of Roman people: witty and funny, wise and poetic, rude and gentle at same time.  

The "vignarola" cleans wild chicory

The market is divided in two long aisles. And here, in a corner an old lady, "la vignarola", sells ‘odori’ herbs for your cooking: parsley, carrot and celery for your “battuto” the Roman ‘mirepois’... rosemary, sage, and mentuccia, the wild mint for your artichokes. Here in a large basket is the wild chicory that she is cleaning. When it is tender it can be prepared as a salad, otherwise it can be dropped in a skillet with extra-virgin olive oil and garlic to accompany any meat dish.

 And side by side, here is a large basket of misticanza. Somebody asked for the recipe… What goes into a misticanza salad? oh well… here it is:

caccia-lepre (hare-hunter),

cresta di gallo (rooster crest),

dente di leone (lion tooth),

pimpinella (that's a sweet name,  must be related to Cinderella),

raponzoli (ugly turnips),

crespigno lattuca pungente (stinging lettuce),

erbanoce (nut herb),

cipiccia (other funny name I am not even trying to translate this),

papala, small poppy plants (way before they start blooming), and....

cordone del frate (fraiar's rope),

orecchio d’asino (donkey hears),

porcacchia (wow!), and finally …

indivia (endive),

rughetta (wild rucola)

young wild chicory,

borage, 

dandelion, and a few more.

For the topping …. Make a pesto pounding in a mortar two anchovies, one clove of garlic and some salt; add fresh extra-virgin olive oil pressed last fall, white wine vinegar (possibly from a reliable source that makes it natural and not industrially). Toss it all together and enjoy!