Forget Tuscany Forget Sicily The Best Food in Italy Comes From Emilia--Romagna : EMILIA-ROMAGNA: Paradise Found

For lovers of Italian food, Emilia-Romagna is Paradise. Sprawling across the Po River plain between Tuscany and Venice, it may be well off the usual American tourist routes in northern Italy, but connoisseurs have been making pilgrimages there for centuries.

The Emiliani and Romagnoli know this--they are almost smug about it. It would be difficult for them not to be. In a country where personal identity is inseparable from geographic origins, and where how you eat often defines where you are from (and, therefore, who you are), there is immeasurable pride in being born in the region that has given Italy some of her most famous foods. Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, prosciutto di Parma and true balsamic vinegar can be produced legally only in Emilia-Romagna. Bologna’s tortellini and the region’s tradition of handmade pastas are admired throughout the country.

And there is a deep pride in doing things well. A Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese maker boasts of his 10 to 14 years of apprenticeship and of the fact that he will make cheese every day of his life until retirement--no vacations, no holidays. “The cows do not know it is Christmas,” he explains.

But underlying these internationally acclaimed foods is a fascinating regional cuisine of lesser-known dishes that changes from one province to the next, from mountain to plain, from the kitchens of peasants to the kitchens of noblemen.

Nearly every restaurant in Emilia-Romagna has its sfoglina or pasta-maker, who each morning pours out a mound of flour, kneads in eggs and then hand-rolls and cuts every piece of tortellini, cappelletti, tagliatelle, lasagne, ravioli-like tortelli, strozzapreti (“priest stranglers”), garganelli and fine-cut tagliarini.

Fewer home cooks have time to make the traditional fresh pasta for the midday meal these days, but although it frequently comes from shops now, it will always be handmade. Mass production in these places only means more women making more pasta by hand. People in Emilia-Romagna may speak tolerantly of machine-made pastas, but no one they know ever actually eats them.

Balancing Emilia-Romagna’s leaning toward smugness is an inborn graciousness. The Romagnoli and Emiliani sincerely delight in strangers, and almost everyone in Emilia-Romagna loves to talk food.

Go to Parma and visit the second-hand bookshop of Gugliemo Capacchi on a Sunday morning. Listen in on the gathering of old friends who meet each week after church for what they call the Capacchi Club. There will be Capacchi himself, an elderly linguistics professor and authority on Parma history and food ways, along with several lawyers, the local druggist, some businessmen and a doctor. Politics and the week’s events take a second seat to cinnamon’s impact on Renaissance Venice, the origins of Parma hill food, the validity of Parma’s latest food book or the evolution of Parmesan cooking and eating since Maria Luigia of Austria--former wife of Napoleon and empress of France--became the duchess of Parma in 1814. The past is just beyond a doorway; they speak of a dinner from five centuries ago as we speak of eating out last week.

In a Piacenza village, I once muttered about high food prices while a gas station attendant was filling my car. He nodded sympathetically, then broke into a broad grin and proudly described his solution to the problem--his garden. All summer, he boasted, his wife scarcely bought any vegetables at the market. He tended the garden every evening and sauteed his peppers in old Piacenza style. On Sundays the entire family ate amid the pole beans, tomatoes and pepper plants. This weekend they were harvesting the first zucchini flowers; could I join them for dinner? Regrettably, I had to be 100 miles to the south by dinner time.

And in Italy, 100 miles south (or east, or west, or north) is a long way--it means a whole new collection of dishes. A bread called borlengo is made in a handful of mountain villages in the hills above Modena; 20 miles away it is scarcely heard of, and never tasted. Considering the distinctiveness of borlengo --it’s a thin (almost transparent), crisp yet chewy fried bread, served hot with a topping of fried pancetta, garlic, rosemary and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese . . . and it’s literally as big as a cart wheel--you’d imagine it would have gained some sort of widespread reputation.

The reason it hasn’t has to do with the very concept of what is foreign. Each province of Emilia-Romagna sees itself as a entity separate from its neighbors. Each may have a separate history as a duchy, papal commune or fiefdom. A hundred miles east of borlengo country, for instance, you’re in piadina country. Colorful piadina stands sell the round, griddle-cooked flat bread that dot Romagna’s countryside.

A bread for impatient appetites, piadina is semi-crisp and tender at the same time. Resembling a flour tortilla, this simple bread tastes best eaten with its traditional toppings--a tangy fresh cheese called squaquerone and fresh leaves of arugula, or strips of local prosciutto.

But more than a meal, piadina is a piece of Romagna’s rural heritage. It’s as much a part of Romagna’s soul as her land. Poets compose odes to piadina ; historians chronicle its past. And piadina never appears in Emilia; borlengo is unknown in Romagna.

Tortellini are the trademark pasta of Bologna and neighboring Modena. There it is a sacrilege not to celebrate holidays with tortellini in steaming capon broth. But if you ask for them an hour and a half away in Parma, you’ll be gently informed that tortellini are a foreign food. In Parma you eat anolini with broth. In their heart of hearts, Parmesans know their little round anolini --filled with rich meat sauce (the by-product of a pot roast often cooked for days), butter-toasted bread crumbs and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese--is truly the food of gods, and that tortellini would be chosen only when anolini are not to be had.

Food talk is often playful. At Bologna’s Atti bakery, where bakers have made the home-style sweets so dear to the hearts of the Bolognese for more than a century, the big glass windows are filled with cookies, tarts, tortes and cakes, each hand-labeled by Atti’s owner. A mound of newly candied chestnuts, the first harvest from the admired chestnut capital of Bologna’s mountains, is labeled, “Chestnuts of Castel del Rio--need I say more?” The tag for the poundcake-like ciambelle reads “Tender Ciambelle, so soft, it’s a miracle!” Each jam tart has a different name; the plum tart says, “From Modena, but we understand its soul.”

The soul of nearby Ferrara is still back in its golden time, the Renaissance. If in Florence you swear you can hear the footsteps of the Medici and Michelangelo, in Ferrara listen for Lucrezia Borgia, the poet Ariosto, the painter Franco della Cossa and the clever and powerful dukes of the Este family and their brilliant women--Beatrice and Isabella. The Este surpassed the Medici in endurance, ruling over much of Emilia and Romagna for nearly three centuries.

Especially Lucrezia Borgia. The Ferrarese today speak of the infamous Lucrezia as though she has just left the room. They always explain how misunderstood she was, and how it was her brother and father who disposed of her first two husbands, not Lucrezia herself. Once settled in Ferrara as wife of Alfonso d’Este, they claim, she found contentment.

Just to show how special she was, almost every Ferrara pastry shop still makes the lush tart of ground almonds, butter and sugar created for Lucrezia’s wedding to Alfonso in the early 1500s. The tangled topping of extra-thin cut pasta on Sweet Tagliarini Tart is supposed to emulate the young beauty’s blond hair.

Food in Emilia-Romagna changes according to where you are standing at a particular moment--but the past is never far away. Find it in the tart of Lucrezia, in the heritage of pasta-making passed from mother to daughter. What once was still lives, and the traditions of cooking and eating blend into emotions that have no past tense.

Instead of time, Emilia-Romagna has passion. A passion for its culture, its history, its centuries of accomplishment. Above all, a passion for its food.

A dish of late summer from the farm houses of Piacenza. Rustisana was often communal family food, eaten from a shallow pot set in the middle of the table. Some spoon it over toasted bread, others ladle it onto slabs of baked or grilled polenta. Rustisana becomes a substantial main dish when topped with poached eggs and shavings of local grana cheese. Rustisana can be cooked ahead and held, covered, up to three hours at room temperature, or longer in the refrigerator. It keeps well for four days refrigerated and is fine at room temperature or briefly reheated.

RUSTISANA PLACENTINA (Piacenza Peppers, Country Style)

2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1 tablespoon unsalted butter

2 medium onions, sliced into strips

2 large sweet red peppers, cut into 1-inch triangles

2 large sweet yellow peppers, cut into 1-inch triangles

1 small clove garlic, minced

8 leaves fresh basil or 2-inch branch fresh rosemary, chopped

3 vine-ripened tomatoes, cored, seeded and chopped, or 6 canned plum tomatoes, crushed

Salt

Freshly ground pepper

3 ounces Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, shaved, optional

8 slices coarse country bread, toasted and rubbed with garlic, optional

8 slices grilled polenta, optional

Heat oil and butter in large skillet over medium-high heat. Add onions and peppers and saute until onions are golden brown (turn heat up to high if necessary). Stir in garlic and basil. Cook few seconds. Add tomatoes and boil about 3 minutes, until thickened. Remove from heat. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Spoon into shallow bowl and serve with cheese, garlic bread and/or polenta if desired. Makes 8 first-course or 4 main-dish servings.

Each first-course serving contains about:

82 calories; 44 mg sodium; 4 mg cholesterol; 5 grams fat; 9 grams carbohydrates; 1 gram protein; 0.77 gram fiber.

The dough can be made early in the day, wrapped and stored in the refrigerator. Piadine are best baked and eaten warm as soon as possible. They can be wrapped in foil and kept warm in a low oven until you have finished cooking the entire recipe. If they must be made several hours before serving, keep them tightly wrapped. Shortly before serving, restore the piadina’s pliability by lightly sprinkling each one with a little water, re-stacking and wrapping in foil. Then reheat in 325-degree oven for about 15 minutes.

Although lard is truly a four-letter word to many in our fat - conscious culture, the small amount used here is vital to the quality and authenticity of the bread. Better to take pleasure from small quantities of piadina than to compromise it with substitutions.

PIADINA WITH SQUAQUERONE AND ARUGULA

4 1/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour (organic, stone-ground preferred)

1 1/2 teaspoons salt

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

6 tablespoons cold lard

1 cup warm tap water

Additional lard or little oil for baking stone or pan

Formaggio Squaquerone

2 medium tomatoes, thinly sliced

1 bunch arugula

To mix piadina by hand, blend together flour, salt and baking soda in large bowl. With fingers rub in lard until mixture resembles fine meal. Sprinkle mixture with water while tossing.

To make piadina using food processor, combine flour, salt and baking soda in processor fitted with steel blade. Process about 5 seconds. Add lard and process about 30 seconds until mixture is completely blended and resembles fine meal. Sprinkle water over dough. Use on-off pulse to blend in water until dough looks like large crumbs or clumps. Do not blend until it forms ball.

Turn dough out on lightly floured work surface and knead 3 or 4 times or until smooth, elastic, semisoft and not sticky. Cover with cloth towel and let stand at room temperature about 30 minutes.

Divide dough into 12 balls. Roll each out into 7- or 7 1/2-inch circle. Heat heavy skillet or cast-iron griddle over medium-high heat. (Or use bread baking stone and heat gradually, beginning at low and taking about 15 minutes to bring up to medium. Stone usually will be hotter than skillet or griddle. To test whether temperature is right, sprinkle cooking surface with few drops of water. Water will fizzle and disappear in about 2 to 3 seconds.)

Rub pan or stone with some lard or oil. Bake piadina, 1 at time, about 30 to 45 seconds until bottom side is speckled with golden brown and top looks grainy and mottled. (If this takes longer, raise heat slightly. If speckles are dark-brown, cooking surface is too hot.) Flip over bread and bake about another 30 seconds. Second side will have fewer golden brown speckles and will look parched. Stack finished breads, cover with foil and keep warm in low oven.

Spread each piadina with 2 to 3 tablespoons Formaggio Squaquerone. Cover with slices of tomato and couple sprigs of arugula. Piadina can also be served hot as rounds or cut in wedges and wrapped in napkin-lined basket to keep warm. Makes 12 (8- to 9-inch round) piadine.

Each serving contains about:

293 calories; 363 mg sodium; 25 mg cholesterol; 14 grams fat; 34 grams carbohydrates; 7 grams protein; 0.25 gram fiber.

A fresh cow’s-milk cheese originating in Romagna, Squaquerone is tangy and creamy at the same time, like a cross between yogurt and cream cheese. Sold from crocks in cheese stores throughout the area, Squaquerone is spoonable and a little lumpy. Its creamy tang makes the cheese delicious with fruits, intriguingly different on sliced tomatoes, and a delicious topping for roasted onions. When it is blended with garlic and fresh herbs, Squaquerone is a great stuffing for raw vegetables or on homemade breads.

Making Squaquerone in Romagna is almost as old a tradition as milking cows. Lactobacillus thermophilus culture is added to raw or pasteurized milk. As the milk gains acidity, it thickens. After about 36 hours of chilling, the typical texture of curds suspended in cream evolves. Attempts at approximating the cheese in the United States met with frustration. No matter what kinds of culture, milk or temperature were used, the results were disappointing. One day, in total exasperation, I blended the elements that Squaquerone reminded me of: yogurt, buttermilk, sour cream and cream cheese. The result was the closest I had come. Here is a simple formula for making it, requiring only a bowl, a spoon and 10 minutes of effort.

Formaggio Squaquerone (Fresh Cheese)

6 ounces cream cheese, chilled (preferably without guar gum)

1/4 cup sour cream, chilled

1/2 cup buttermilk, chilled

3/4 cup plain low-fat yogurt with live cultures, chilled (preferably made without pectin and other additives)

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

Salt, optional

In medium-sized bowl, mash cream cheese and sour cream with fork until well blended. Gradually stir in buttermilk, leaving pea-sized lumps of cream-cheese mixture. Fold in yogurt and lemon juice until well blended. (Do not beat yogurt in or it will liquefy.)

Cover and refrigerate. Let cheese mellow in refrigerator 24 to 36 hours before using. Cheese will keep, covered, 5 days in refrigerator. Makes 2 to 2 1/2 cups.

Bake fruit jam in center of Modena crumbling cake and you have a sweet called ciambelle. This long, low cake tastes like a cross between a soft, filled cookie and a sweet biscuit. Ciambelle embodies the simple, direct quality of the homemade cakes of generations ago. Made by almost every grandmother in Emilia-Romagna, it is also found in every pasticceria. The cake greets youngsters after school, feeds neighbors dropping in for mid-morning coffee and makes a comforting finale to family dinners. Although best eaten within several hours of baking, it keeps two days if tightly wrapped and stored in the refrigerator.

CIAMBELLE CON MARMELLATA (Home-Style Jam Cake)

1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened

1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour, preferably organic stone-ground

1 cup cake flour

Dash salt

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1 teaspoon shredded lemon zest

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, chilled and cut into pieces

1 egg

1 teaspoon vanilla

3 tablespoons milk

3/4 cup Homemade Tart Jam or bottled plum, apricot, cherry or strawberry preserves

2 teaspoons pearl sugar or granulated sugar

Brush large baking sheet with 1 tablespoon soft butter.

In large shallow bowl, combine all-purpose flour, cake flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, granulated sugar and lemon zest. Blend thoroughly with hands or with fork. Rub in butter, using fingertips, until mixture resembles coarse meal.

Stir egg, vanilla and milk together. Make well in middle of dry ingredients and add liquids. Gradually work in dry ingredients, tossing with fork. (This thoroughly moistens dough. Beating makes dough tough. Dough should be lumpy, sticky and moist.)

Gather and turn dough onto generously floured surface. Lightly flour hands. Pat dough out to form 13x8-inch rectangle. Place on prepared baking sheet. Dab jam down center of dough in about 2-inch-wide ribbon. Fold 2 flaps of pastry lengthwise over filling, overlapping slightly. Pinch seams together. To prevent jam from oozing, pinch ends together.

Sprinkle top with pearl sugar. Bake on center rack of 350-degree oven 25 minutes. Reduce heat to 250 degrees and bake another 25 minutes. Cool slightly. Cut into 1/2- to 3/4-inch thick slices and serve warm or at room temperature. Makes 8 servings.

Each serving contains about:

303 calories; 57 mg sodium; 54 mg cholesterol; 11 grams fat; 47 grams carbohydrates; 4 grams protein; 0.54 gram fiber.

Homemade Tart Jam

1 1/2 cups dried apricots, peaches or pitted prunes

6 tablespoons dry white wine

3 tablespoons sugar

Water

In saucepan, combine dried fruit, white wine, sugar and enough water to cover fruit. Let stand 20 minutes to 1 hour. Bring liquid to gentle boil. Turn heat to low, cover pan securely and simmer 30 minutes, or until fruit is very tender. Adjust sugar to taste. Let cool. Makes 2 cups.

This classic ragu is best kept warm and eaten within about 30 minutes after it has finished cooking.

CLASSIC RAGU BOLOGNESE

1/2 cup heavy whipping cream

10 ounces lean salt pork or fresh unsalted fatback, finely diced

1 quart boiling water

1 cup diced carrot (1/4- to 1/2-inch dice)

2/3 cup diced celery (1/4- to 1/2-inch dice)

1/2 cup diced onion (1/4- to 1/2-inch dice)

1 1/4 pounds beef skirt steak or boneless chuck blade roast, coarsely ground

2 tablespoons double- or triple-concentrated Italian tomato paste

10 tablespoons Brodo (meat stock)

1/2 cup dry Italian white wine, preferably Trebbiano or Albana

1 cup milk

Salt

Freshly ground pepper

Tagliatelle pasta, cooked and drained

Simmer whipping cream in small saucepan until reduced by 1/3 its volume (to about 6 tablespoons). Set aside.

Blanch salt pork (fresh fatback needs no blanching) in boiling water 3 minutes. Drain and pat dry.

Saute salt pork in 3- to 4-quart heavy saucepan over medium-low heat 8 minutes, or until almost all fat is rendered. Stir in diced carrot, celery and onion. Saute 3 minutes over medium-low heat, or until onion is translucent.

Raise heat to medium and stir in beef. Brown 5 minutes or until meat is medium brown and almost, but not quite, crisp.

Dilute tomato paste in Brodo. Stir wine and diluted tomato paste into meat mixture. Reduce heat to very low. Cook, partially covered, 2 hours, adding 1 tablespoon or so of milk at various stages. (Mixture must reduce to slightly liquid consistency as slowly as possible.) Stir in reduced whipping cream. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Toss hot ragu with freshly cooked tagliatelle and serve. Makes enough sauce for 1 1/2 recipes fresh pasta or 1 1/2 pounds dried pasta, serving 8.

Each serving contains about:

513 calories; 218 mg sodium; 60 mg cholesterol; 14 grams fat; 70 grams carbohydrates; 23 grams protein; 0.57 gram fiber.

The long cooking time of this stock surprises many. The extended simmering draws all the flavor from the meat and bones, producing a stock with exceptionally deep taste. You can start the stock after dinner and let it cook all night, partially covered, at a slow bubble.

Brodo

2 to 3 pounds meaty beef shank or soup bones, trimmed of fat

8 to 9 pounds whole capon or turkey wings or combination, chopped into 3-inch pieces

3 stalks celery with leaves, chopped

3 large carrots, chopped

4 very large onions, unpeeled, chopped

2 large bay leaves, broken

3 sprigs Italian parsley

2 large cloves garlic, unpeeled, crushed

In 20-quart or 2 10-quart stockpots, combine beef and poultry. Cover with cold water by about 4 inches. Set over medium heat and bring to slow boil. Skim off all foam rising to surface.

Add celery, carrots, onions, bay leaves, parsley and garlic. Regulate heat so broth boils only occasionally. Partially cover and cook 12 to 14 hours, occasionally skimming fat from surface. If necessary, add boiling water to keep solids covered. (Mixture should bubble slowly. If not hot enough to bubble, it will spoil.) Then turn off heat and strain stock.

Refrigerate strained stock until fat hardens on surface. Discard all but 2 tablespoons fat. Pour into airtight containers and refrigerate or freeze. Makes about 8 quarts.

Note: Refrigerate stock, covered, 3 to 4 days. Freeze up to 4 months in different-size containers, from 2-tablespoon size ice cubes to 1-quart jars.

In Emilia-Romagna, sign of proper broth is luminous pin dots of fat called “eyes” of broth. Although never greasy, tiny amount of fat gives flavor.

In the Renaissance, when pasta with sugar was a sign of high status, this tart often appeared as small tartlets at the beginning of a banquet, or with the last course. Serve it today as everyone does in Modena and Ferrara--as a dessert presented to special guests and on important family occasions.

TORTA DI TAGLIARINI FERRARESE (Sweet Tagliarini Tart of Ferrara)

2 quarts salted water

2 ounces fresh tagliarini, cut as thick as possible, or 3 ounces imported dried fidelini or cappellini

1 1/2 cups blanched almonds, toasted

1 cup granulated sugar

3 tablespoons unbleached all-purpose flour

9 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

1/2 teaspoon almond extract

2 tablespoons Strega, Galliano, or liqueur of Moscato

3 tablespoons water

3 egg yolks

6 egg whites

Sweet Pastry Crust

1/3 cup powdered sugar

Bring salted water to vigorous boil. Drop in pasta. Cook fresh pasta only about 10 seconds. Allow 1 minute for dried pasta. Pasta should be tender enough to eat but still quite firm. Drain, rinse under cold water and shake dry. Spread pasta on paper towels.

Coarsely chop 1/4 of almonds. Set aside.

Combine remaining almonds with granulated sugar and flour in food processor, and grind to powder (or use hand-operated nut grater).

Add 6 tablespoons melted butter, almond extract, liqueur, water and egg yolks to food processor. Blend thoroughly. Turn into large bowl.

Beat egg whites until soft peaks form. Fold 1/4 of whites into almond mixture until blended. Gently fold in remaining whites just until blended, keeping mixture light.

Spread half of almond filling over bottom of Sweet Pastry Crust. Cover with half of pasta. Top with remaining filling. Sprinkle with reserved chopped almonds, then top with remaining pasta and remaining melted butter.

Lightly cover tart with 10-inch round of parchment paper and bake at 375 degrees 20 minutes. Uncover and bake another 25 to 30 minutes, or until knife inserted near center comes out clean. Cool pan on rack.

Slip off side of pan and serve tart at room temperature. Sift powdered sugar over tart. Makes 10 servings.

Each serving contains about:

562 calories; 64 mg sodium; 219 mg cholesterol; 33 grams fat; 57 grams carbohydrates; 10 grams protein; 0.46 gram fiber.

Sweet Pastry Crust

1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour

1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons cake flour

1/2 cup sugar

Dash salt

1/2 teaspoon grated lemon zest

1/2 cup unsalted butter, chilled, cut into chunks

3 egg yolks, chilled

1 to 2 tablespoons cold water

1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened

To make dough by hand, stir flours, sugar, salt and lemon zest together in large bowl. Using fingertips, rub in butter until mixture looks like coarse meal with few large pieces of flour-coated butter still intact.

Make well in center of mixture and add egg yolks and 1 tablespoon water. Beat egg yolks and water with fork until smooth. Toss with dry ingredients until moistened. Do not stir or knead, or dough will toughen. Gather dough into ball. If too dry, sprinkle with remaining tablespoon of water, toss few seconds, gather into ball, wrap and chill at least 30 minutes.

To make dough in food processor, combine flours, sugar, salt and lemon zest in food processor fitted with steel blade, and blend few seconds. Add butter and process until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add yolks and 1 tablespoon cold water. Process with on/off pulse until dough barely gathers into small clumps. Turn dough out onto sheet of plastic wrap, gather into ball and wrap. Chill at least 30 minutes.

Using 1 tablespoon butter, thoroughly grease bottom and sides of 9-inch springform pan. On lightly floured surface, roll out dough to form 1/8-inch thick round large enough to fit pan. Make sure pastry is of even thickness for uniform baking. Carefully fit into prepared pan. Bring dough up sides to rim of pan, trimming edges. (Because of high sugar content, pastry breaks easily. Simply press broken pieces, 1 at time, into pan.) Chill about 1 hour.

Line dough with foil and weight with dried beans or rice. Bake at 375 degrees 12 minutes. Remove liner and weights. Pierce bottom of crust with fork and bake another 2 minutes, or until barely beginning to turn color. Remove from oven and cool. Makes 1 (9-inch) crust.

Food styling by Minnie Bernardino and Donna Deane