Here is the link … and do be sure to read it, please!

http://www.giardinidisole.com/blog/2013/06/iq-versus-eq-and-catering-for-the-open-house-in-may/

It’s a ‘cheat’ post because I wrote it for another blog last week … but the more I think about it, the more it seems that the post in question will make a welcome ‘fit’ into this blog because it was all about … cooking … and all about … ceramics.  I don’t know whether any of you have noticed, but very often I will serve whatever I am cooking on a ceramics plate or serving platter.  I just love my ceramics …

I have been working for a company called Giardini di Sole (www.giardinidisole.com) for a good number of years now, and we import beautiful ceramics and tableware and stone and lavastone tables from Italy to North America.  There is a showroom in Vancouver and another in Boston, and last month we all convened (two of us from Italy, one from Vancouver and two in situ) to the Boston showroom for an Open Day (amongst other business).  And ooooh did I enjoy eating oysters and lobster and … fiddleheads.  I’d never heard of them before.  They’re curly whirly vegetables that grow in the wild:

And of course I went crazy for flank steak and proper home-made hamburgers and sweetcorn and lots of other goodies both home-made or eating out.  One of the best Asian fusion meals of my life? at Myers and Chang (http://www.myersandchang.com/).

I and my four colleague work very hard and it is because we work so hard that we know how important it is to make sure that fun and games and laughter, supported by good food and nice wine, are always on the day’s agenda.  We all love to cook and we each have our own cooking style that requires both rational intelligence as well as emotional intelligence.  What kind of cooking style best describes you?

Here is the link again: enjoy!

http://www.giardinidisole.com/blog/2013/06/iq-versus-eq-and-catering-for-the-open-house-in-may/

And, in case you’d like to know more about our ceramics and Open House … take a look at this post too:

http://www.giardinidisole.com/blog/2013/06/where-every-prospect-pleases-in-tuscany-and-in-the-showroom/

It is very sad for me to have to confess that Frascati’s covered market is not exactly pretty, if anything there is an air of forlorn dilapidation about the place.  What used to be a thriving two-storey affair, selling fresh fish and meat and all sorts of good-quality foods, has now been reduced to one floor, with only three fruit and veg vendors.  I happened to be in Florence’s covered market last week, the first time for me … and I wanted to weep at the stark contrast between the bustling and almost luxurious quality of Florence’s market compared with the après-nous-le-déluge feel of this once jewel in the crown of a town, nestling in the hills south east of Rome.

The one excellent, and not just good, thing about Frascati’s covered market is, of course, the fact that the hard-working people who sell their wares there are very friendly and kind and lots of fun to be with. Here are married couple Maria and Marco Cerri.  She is quick as a flash, charming, spurting out recipes and talking about music concerts as she scuttles about deftly … and he is easy-going and methodical and does not like to be hurried.  He is what I would call a Slow Market man … conversation and good manners are of upmost importance. Their veggies and fruits are just the best … and there is often a long queue.  Please note that it was coming up to half past twelve when I took these photos and most market shoppers are the get-up-early-in-the-morning eager beaver kind, and would have long been home by now. This is Hakim, the Cerri’s assistant from Bangladesh.  There are many Bangladeshis in Rome now. Maria and Marco kindly inform us that they intend to stay open even on Monday’s during the hot summer months.   Only an Italian would understand the calendar meaning of this announcement.  Traditionally, July and August are the hottest months of the year and most people take a holiday then, shopkeepers included — and large towns used to be quite empty, with so many people off and away to the seaside.  It is quite normal for food shops to close during these months, although they have to make sure at least one or two of them are open … for obvious reasons.   The rules are put into place by local government and consequently tend to vary from town to town. And here are Angela and Maurizio, the other couple at the market.  Very cheery and sweet, both of them.
Angela couldn’t for the life of her understand why I wanted to take a photo but so what! She smiled anyway …

Here instead is a client with an attitude, a signora of an unspecified ‘certain age’ … whose name I shall not reveal but who used to run a very posh clothes boutique up until about ten years ago and who remembers my mother well.  ”So what HAS happened to your mother?”, she enquired inquisitorially, “She seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth!” she exclaims as though my mother’s whereabouts should somehow be of any importance to her.  But hey! doesn’t she look fab, all dolled up even though she is just going to the market?
“Come on!” I encourage her to pose for me … and she complies very coquettishly without the slightest hint of self consciousness.  What a great generation!
And here is Patrizia … she and her colleagues run the third and last stall.  It’s the biggest too.   What amazes me is that though these three stalls are obviously ‘competing’ to some extent, there seems to be no bitching and quarreling between them.  I buy from all three stalls.  I love the atmosphere at the market!

My next stop is a grocer’s … but on my way I espy notices on a public wall that might appear somewhat morbid to non-Italians, but which I think are a very civilised way of handling obituaries.  The notices inform the passer-by of those who have passed away and also give details regarding the funeral service or give comments offering thanks.

I couldn’t help but notice the religious overtones of the graphics … nor was it lost on me that the Grim Reaper came for these folk at not too early a time … one dying at 92, the other at 85.

Oooops … and here are some more Harley Davidson bikers … probably in search of something to eat. Here is a greengrocer’s … they are open in the afternoons too. And here is my very favourite grocer’s called “Sfizio” … it’s a tiny shop really but full of wonderful food. Here is Nino … he recently became grandfather to baby Flavio …. Here is Elena, one of his assistants. Here is camera-shy Antonella, the other assistant. I love the way they manage to stack so much into such little space!

And here at the till is Daniela, Nino’s wife and proud grandmother.  It was she who showed me the photos of baby Flavio.Notice the holy pictures and religious references … even in a shop.  We all need protection and guidance.

Just across the road from Sfizio is the Enoteca Molinari.

Here is Nico Molinari …  His father died tragically when he was only a lad and his mother ran the shop until he and his older sister were old enough to take over.  Theirs are the most honest wine prices you will have the luck to encounter.

Nico and his sister Noemi are very kind and patient with me.  Very often, I dump my shopping bags on them because they would be too heavy for me to carry as I walk home.  I then do walk home, get my car, drive to their place and load up my car.  Also, because we do like our wine, Nico and Noemi are quite okay about us running a tab with them.A parting shot after I’ve bought my wine.  Time to go home …

Any wonder I boycott supermarkets as much as I can?  It is something I started to do in earnest as soon as I read Felicity Lawrence’s “Not on The Label – What Really Goes Into the Food in your Plate”.

Markets and shopkeepers are the fabric of our society just as much as the CEOs and lawyers and tinkers and taylors, soldiers and spies …  What a pity that we do not fete them enough, they certainly deserve our respect.

I don’t know what prompted me to want to create a variation  of my own but such are the mysteries of the muses that roam about in the kitchen.  I wanted to insert some “green” into the picture.

Trimming … Washing …. Blanching in boiling salted water until tender …
Mashing the potatoes … Time to start putting the dish together.  There is tuna drained of its olive oil on the left and mashed potatoes dotted with capers on the right.

Use your hands or a fork to mix it all together.  Sprinkle some salt and white pepper, taste until the seasoning meets your standards of satisfaction, and then give it one final mix.

Avail yourself of a ring mould to shape the mixture into a round patty and place it in the middle of the plate.

What you see on the left is some burrata.  On the plate, I have topped the potato and tuna patty with the blanched greens first … and then I have drizzled some olive oil both on top of the greens and around the patty. I then added some burrata and placed a few olives on the very top.  The olives were coated in their own oil so I added only a tiny drizzle of olive oil on top of the burrata.

Here is a side view … It is meant to be eaten at room temperature and it is perfect for a Spring or warm weather meal.This ‘fake fish’ is so ‘fake’ that it doesn’t even look like a fish – ha ha ha ha!  But if, like me, you like it … you are certain to enjoy the addition of the burrata.

I happen to have a soft spot for prostitutes because I really can’t imagine it being much fun as jobs go, even though there will always be some clever dick (ooops … the pun just slipped out!) who will remind us that prostitution is the oldest métier in history.  Though not one to be be drawn to novelty for novelty’s sake, I nevertheless think it highly fatuous that so many people tend to sit on the fence when it comes to prostitution simply because it’s been around for thousands of years. So have depression and disease … but we don’t think of these phenomena in shoulder-shrugging terms just because they have been such a close and very unwelcome companion to humanity’s heritage.  The ways of sex are truly mysterious, granted, but love-for-sale is an oxymoron and the sad truth is that … prostitutes are never loved.  Think about it.   Recieved wisdom (wisdom?) views prostitution as an accepted ‘necessity’ of society (and I believe that prostitutes even pay tax in countries such as Switzerland and Holland) but a prostitute will, and can, never command respect and admiration within that same society … not the way a nurse will, or a teacher, or  any other vocation.  Am I making this up?  To me, prostitution is a form of slavery and when one reads of the horrific backgrounds of most of the poor girls’ curriculum, the whole ‘business’ smacks of base abuse.  Here is an article that might be of interest: Hhttp://www.guardian.co.uk/society/2012/dec/26/government-pressure-review-prostitution-laws .

The pasta dish, on the other hand, is sheer and rustic delight and does not seem to draw any particularly erotic ingredient into its making: tomatoes, anchovy, capers, garlic and olives and some parsley for garnish.
I decided to add a little crunch factor …. and here you see breadcrumbs on the left and a little pan with olive oil in it on the right.  The idea is to toast the breadcrumbs in the oil and then sprinkle them over the pasta just before serving. I cut up the tomatoes and sprinkled salt over them … I sliced some garilc and turned the heat on low to cook it gently in some olive oil … Chilli … this is fresh peperoncino (chilli pepper) …  which is also a good addition. Add as much or as little of the fresh peperoncino … if you don’t have any of the fresh, you can always substitute with dried chilli flakes.  Please note how I have poured in the oil in the middle of the pan, so that what we get is like a ‘puddle’ of olive oil.  This is because if you spread out the olive oil too thinly over the surface of the pan, the garlic won’t get properly coated and the olive oil will not get ‘scented’ with the garlic taste.  You could, alternatively, pour the olive oil to one side and tilt the pan at 45° over the source of heat. I then added some anchovy fillets.  I realise that it can be very annoying to not be given precise quantities … but that is because it all depends on people’s personal taste.  I think that the ‘eye’ is a very good gauger of quantities and this is one of the main reasons for my taking the trouble to chronicle a blow-by-blow explanation of any recipe.

Add the olives when the garlic has turned golden.  Please realise that the above steps are in quick succession and it didn’t take more than about 5 minutes to get to the adding the olives stage.
And, finally, add the tomatoes and cook for a few minutes.  Now is the time to start cooking your pasta (i.e. adding it to the salted, boiling water).  While the pasta is cooking, you can start toasting the breadcrumbs.

Here is the little pan with the olive oil in it …

Add the breadcrumbs and cook them for a few minutes until they turn crisp.  Use a wooden spoon or fork to stir them a bit and be on the look-out for any hint of overcooking, otherwise known as burning! ayeee ayeee ayeee … mine had just started to burn if you look carefully on the top left of the photo … and fortunately I was able to save the rest.

When the pasta is almost but not quite ready to drain, take a ladleful of the cooking water and add it to the sauce.  Turn the heat on again …

Then drain the spaghetti and place them directly into the pan with the sauce.  Turn the heat up and toss the spaghetti with the help of two utensils until the pasta has absorbed al the sauce.  Add a little more of the cooking water if you think it looks a little ‘dry’. Sprinkle the toasted breadcrumbs over the top and garnish with a leaf or two of parsley.It is a very ‘hearty’ pasta dish and not for the faint-palated.  When you are in the midst of enjoying it and taking in the various flavours, it is the sort of dish that makes you think: why don’t we make this more often?  A welcome variation, brought to my notice by my friend Liz, one of the best cooks in real life whose food I have the pleasure to eat, is to put the tomatoes in the oven to cook over a low heat, confit style, drawing out the intensity of the tomato.

Last month, my friend L. organised a beautiful tea party — yes! a tea party! when is the last time you heard of anyone hosting a tea party?  It was fabulous — for her daughter who was visiting with her two very young children.  L bakes the wickedest chocolate cake you could ever imagine and so I naturally succumbed (what is a poor girl to do) and tucked into the cake and got carried away by the cheerful carrying-on of some of the little ones and the chatter of the older ones.

Time always flies on these occasions and by the time the afternoon was reaching its close, it was evening by now, and I realised to my dismay that I hadn’t even thought about what to make for supper and that I had to go and buy the food too.  ”Chicken”, my friend suggested with a knowing nod.  She knows what it’s like, having raised a family of four.  And thus chicken it was to be.

Maybe it was the after effects of that delicious cake but I really did not want to serve up any ol’ chicken for my family that evening and so I resorted to the ‘trick’ of the brick.  I’ve written about this already (http://myhomefoodthatsamore.wordpress.com/2011/07/05/the-ultimate-must-have-kitchen-utensil-a-brick/) but the photos of the end result are not good and so I thought I’d repost, in the hope of inspiring you to try this one day.  It requires such little effort and rewards you with a wonderful crunch and savoury taste.  It does a lot to make chicken more exciting!

If you do not own a brick or two, and I expect most people do not, you can always make do with a heavy-bottomed pan filled with water.

Here are the chicken thighs/legs … This is an Italian herb mix that is popularly used for roasts.  Though I am more partial to fresh herbs, I thought the Ariosto would work very well for this recipe. I laid the chicken skin down in a large frying  pan and turned the heat on high.  I sprinkled the Ariosto mixture on top. I then covered the chicken with parchment paper, and lay two bricks over the lot. After about 20 minutes I went to check and see how it was doing … And this is what I found.  By the way, the aroma was already wonderful! So I turned the chicken over and sprinkled some salt and pepper over the cooked sides.I then lay the parchment paper and the bricks as I did before.  You have to ‘press’ the bricks quite hard so that they flatten the chicken.
Twenty minutes later … and this is what it looked like.  Please note, that this time I didn’t add any olive oil whatsoever.  The chicken skin has plenty of fat of its own.The chicken had browned beautifully!  Here it is on the serving plate with some sprigs of rosemary … And this is all the fat that’s left over (I would have cooked potatoes in it if I had made potatoes that evening, but never mind!).And here is a mid-week meal … spinach with raisins and pine kernels, pan-cooked tomatoes, and mushrooms as side dishes to accompany the ‘brick chicken’.

Ooooh, I am such a brick, am I not!!!

And this is what they looked like minutes later.

In the meantime, I began preparing the sauce:

Tomatoes and some chilli in a saucpan … Cooking up the olive oil and garlic in a small milk pan.  I’ve written about this ‘technique’ in another post, I’m sure.  Instead of sautéing the garlic in olive oil in a flat pan, it is better to cook it in an upright, smaller pan for two practical reasons: a) you will need less oil and b) all of the garlic will cook evenly and you will also (c) avoid the oil from overcooking altogether.  I am very proud of this invention of mine even though I only resort to it when dealing with recipes involving clams and mussels.As you can see, I rather overcooked the garlic (on the left) but that’s my fault and not that of the milk-pan technique.  Whatever.  I poured the garlic-scented olive oil through a sieve into the pan with the tomatoes and discarded the garlic.

I then added the mussels and clams on the half shell or free of all shell  … This is what got thrown away … This is the liquid/liquor that the clams and mussels released … and there is a bit of sand and grit on the bottom of the pan, if you look closely. I poured this delicious sea-tasting liquid through a fine sieve … I put the gnocchi on to boil … they really take no time at all to cook.  Once they bob up to the surface, give them about a minute and they’re ready. I poured some of the liquor into the sauce … I added the cooked gnocchi.  I turned the heat up so that the gnocchi could guzzle up some of the sauce. I then placed the gnocchi in a bowl and, after, putting some rocket leaves on the top, I added a ladelful of the sauce. It tasted quite nice, as I said, except that the gnocchi were ‘fake’ … I saved the situation by adding some grated pecorino cheese over each individual dish.

And here ends my cautionary tale … if you’re going to make gnocchi, then for goodness sakes make sure they are the good kind.  What could have been a truly delicious dish was reduced to being so-so, nothing to write home about, barely more than plain edible.

Ah the trials and tribulations of the home cook …. sigh ….

I cut up the cherry tomatoes and lavishly sprinkled salt all over them. I gently sweated or sautéed or whatever the verb is … the garlic in olive oil (please note that the olive oil covers the whole of the bottom of the saucepan: this is the rule of thumb, so choose the size of your saucepan carefully). I put the courgettes through a cascading waterfall of a wash …. and then patted them dry. I divided up the courgettes.  Those on the left were for cooking in the pan, and those on the right were for frying. You want to use the green part of the courgettes and discard most of the white.  The white part is basically tasteless (see what I meant about ‘humble’ before?). Add the chopped courgettes to the pan … cook them for about one minute, making sure they are all coated in the lovely garlic-scented olive oil. Then add the tomatoes …. Place a lid over the saucepan and let them cook/steam for a few minutes, until the courgettes are fork tender (this won’t take long, and it all depends on what kind of courgettes you are using). This time, slice the courgettes in rounds. Pat them dry with some kitchen paper or towel … And fry the rounds in plenty of hot olive oil. Drain and set aside. Camerino is a town in the Marche … I really like their egg pasta. Cook the pasta … Grate the parmesan …. (take into account at least one heaped tablespoon per person – I was cooking for 4 people, using 500g of dried egg pasta). When the sauce is ready, taste and add a little more salt if necessary.  And then add whatever herbs you enjoy: in this case it was mint. Make sure the pasta is well coated with the sauce …. I prefer to do this directly in the pan, adding some of the cooking water if it dries out.Sprinkle a lavish amount of parmesan as a snowy cap to the pasta, place the fried courgettes on top, and finish off with a sprig of mint.
I am glad to say that I beat the Uriah Heep right out of this pasta dish … its taste was much ‘richer’ than the common ingredients might suggest.  To finish off with something both Stephane Gabart of My French Heaven (http://myfrenchheaven.com/about/) and Gareth Jones with his Blue Collar Gastronomy would thoroughly appreciate (www.garethjonesfood.com/about) – every meal, even the simplest and least expensive, can be made special.

P.S. I tried sprinkling a little bit of bottarga over my helping of this pasta and … it didn’t really ‘add’ anything – basically it was just a case of painting the lily.   Whereas, I think just a hint of breadcrumbs toasted in olive oil would have supplied the crunch factor.

Anyway … a little while ago, my husband ran into the guy who had designed our wedding card.  Not your average, gilt-edged ‘stiffy’ of a wedding invitation card, ours was actually a caricature of myself and my future husband posing as two centaurs, and very amusing at that.  The artist in question really is an artist and a cartoon designer and is now married for the third time, with a most charming wife (don’t know about the others) and two young twins.  They came over for supper earlier this Winter and we had a lovely evening, and my husband was a big hit with the three year-old twins.  When they invited us round for supper at their place, we  were delighted to be asked … and not just for the good company, I have to add, but because wife in question is from Puglia and had promised us a typical dinner from the Salento.

The evening begins with the brightest of colours and the most joyful of energies: young children and a dog … and talk about a colourful kitchen!

Here is our hostess …  busy in the kitchen as we arrived.

I loved the collection of old 78 rpm records on an old gramophone that still works!

And I surely loved the anchovies fried in the lightest of batters …. mouth wateringly good. Crisp and crunchy and incredibly more-ish …. These are called ‘pettole’ …. they are balls of deep fried dough.  English is a very unkind language sometimes … “deep-fried dough” sounds disgusting … and these were succulent and wickedly good!

Fresh burrata …. I really have to get the recipe for this ‘salad’.  ’Salad’ my foot!  this was some concoction of mysterious, tangy, silky unctuousness posing as salad.  It was made up of grilled aubergines, and tomatoes and onions that had been baked in the oven with I don’t know what … Probably THE centre piece of the evening: the ‘pitta’.  It’s a pie … it’s a pie the way Harrods is a shop …. The inside of the pitta is made up of …. caramelised onions. A close-up of this miracle of a ‘pie’. The ‘greens’ … the greens that went with the broad bean puré (puré di fave). Home made breads  ….

The children were playing and singing and … well, just being children.  We, the grown-ups, were sipping our bubbly …. and our hostess just rolled out the dishes onto the table:

There was a main course too …. and dessert.  However, the other incredible dish of the evening was the pasta with chickpeas, called “ciceri e tria”.  I am going to have to try it one of these days …

Here is the home-made pasta … the flour is not the usual OO kind so typical of Italy’s cuisine but, instead, the semolina kind of flour (durum wheat semolina). The pan on the right contains chickpeas that have been boiling, the one on the left contains some olive oil with a clove or two of garlic being browned, and the large pan at the back is full of boiling water (for the pasta). My friend removed the garlic … and then added some of the uncooked pasta to the olive oil: to fry it! She then added the rest of the pasta that had cooked ‘normally’, as well as the chickpeas …at one point, she also added a small amount of the cooking water. She mixed it all up beautifully and ….A good twist of black pepper !  I really can’t tell you how good this was! Incredible!

Delicious.  The ‘ciceri e tria’ and ‘pitta’ and ‘pettole’ were all new to me … and the whole evening was quite wonderful, with the children being good and ‘naughty’ at various intervals and reminding us that chidren, too, are part of an Italian home meal … it was midnight and they were still up.  And I was reminded of the fact that very often my children up stayed up till midnight when we had guests for dinner.  They (my kids) survived.  Indeed, WE (the grown-ups) survived!

PS My children, of course, were delightful … and fairly easy to please, and not at all pesky or just plain ‘pests’ like some other children I have come across … especially those who were always sent to bed at sensible times when their parents wanted to have a good time.  Mmmmm.

As I enjoy spending money when it solves problems and/or brings happiness, an expense which I like to call ‘investing’ money to distinguish it from its ugly cousin ‘wasting’ money, I am sometimes taken to task for being too ‘generous’ — which of course is just a criticism in disguise.  I have learned to take it on the chin now and just shrug my shoulders but I have to admit that it really is hard work having to deal with people who are smug about not spending money, as opposed to spending money ‘judiciously’ (which is what I think I do).   Despite the fact that no one would dream of associating me and ‘poverty consciousness’ in the same sentence, I too have had to find clever ways of making ends meet over the past few years, ever since the economy started playing hide and seek with us in 2008. I realise just how expensive feeding a family can be and count my blessings in being able to afford good food regularly.  Those few time when I do find myself having to go to supermarkets (I started boycotting them after having read Felicity Lawrence’s “Not on the Label”, the corporations that own them are quite vile even though their wares might be good), it breaks my heart to see mostly immigrant individuals begging for a euro or two outside the entrance and I nearly always buy them something or other.   This does little to assuage my sadness and guilt and anger over poverty … and makes me want to avoid supermarkets (in Italy even) more.

Anyway … back to the subject of good husbandry and thrift.  I thought I’d do a clever act of buying only a few veggies and get rid of any leftovers in the fridge not so long ago, and swelled with inner pride at the thought of the money I would be saving that day.  And so, on my way to driving home, I stopped at a veggie shop and went in to take a look …. and of course I immediately fell in love with the wild asparagus once I set eyes on it!  Wild asparagus are nothing like the other kind and need to be foraged by people with attitude (it is a very time consuming and tiring enterprise), so they do not come cheap – that much I remembered.  To be honest, I do not recall what else I bought … probably some tomatoes and potatoes and fruit.  But boy do I remember the bill: Eu 27 !  I just smiled as I paid over the money and waited for change … I thought of the above-mentioned Ab Fab episode and realised that people like me are better off NOT trying to cut down on expenses: it is an exercise that all too often turns into a False Economy !

Here is the delightful bunch of wild asparagus. Unlike the other kinds of asparagus, these wild babies have very woody stalks, and you need a knife or sharp pair of scissors to cut them off. Here are the woody bits.  However, they are not to be thrown away.  They are excellent for making stock.  I was using them, that evening, to make a pasta dish. After washing the woody bits … I put them on the boil.  I let them boil for 15 minutes. Here, instead, are the more tender parts.  To follow, are the other ingredients : I began by lightly cooking some garlic in olive oil (make sure the garlic does not brown). I chopped up the tomatoes and sprinkled salt directly over them.

I then set them to cook with the olive oil and garlic, on a low heat. After 15-20 mintues, I got rid of the asparagus which would have been inedible anyway … I grated some parmesan cheese …I added the tender parts of the asparagus to the saucepan …

But I kept the most tender parts, i.e. the tips of the asparagus, to add towards the end.

I cooked the asparagus for a few minutes, mixing well and making sure that it would get coated all over with the sauce, and then added a lid so that it would steam to completion. While the asparagus had been cooking, I was also cooking the pasta.  When the pasta was one minute away from cooking time, I drained it and put it directly into the saucepan. I then added the tender tips … and finished cooking the dish until it was just right. On the table and still steaming … A shower of grated parmesan … and enjoy! P.S.  Another extravagance …. peonies …. which I adore! Very good, really yummy.

Easter, inspired as it is by the Christian faith, enters the Italian language by way of sayings and proverbs, the most famous of which is ‘felice come una Pasqua’, to mean ‘as happy as Easter’ – just as in English one could say ‘as pleased as Punch’.  I suspect that the joy referred to by the metaphorical Easter has more to do with the end of the self-imposed rationing of food during Lent (40 days just like the 40 days Christ spent in the desert) than with the risen Christ.  The colour purple is considered unlucky for actors in Italy, and that is because during Lent (when purple was the colour to adorn the churches) they were not allowed to perform which meant, of course, that they would not be earning any money.  So, who knows, maybe it was the actors who started up the phrase ‘felice come una Pasqua’ because they would finally  be able to perform/earn again and eat a decent meal.

Another saying goes like this: it is important that you spend Christmas with your family, but you can spend Easter with anyone you like (‘Natale con i tuoi, Pasqua con chi vuoi’), which makes no sense to me whatsoever since I am sure that in the past, Easter Sunday would have been most certainly celebrated within the home with family and loved ones. The following day, instead, Easter Monday that is … has traditionally been seen as a day to go out into the countryside for a picnic.  It is a lovely tradition and we all love it but this year it was pouring with rain, and we were quite happy to stay in and watch some films.  The meal we had was not exactly a picnic (ha ha ha) but still hinted at the freshness of Spring and the bounty that his lovely planet presents us with at this time of year.

Here is the completed dish, made up of olive oil, garlic, tomatoes and previously blanched cavolacci.   Boiled potatoes, served with olive oil and mint leaves. Fresh borlotti beans, previously boiled, and now heated up in a pan with olive oil, garlic and sage. Fresh ricotta and primosale cheese bought by the Sardinian shepherd (the one with a Russian wife – I’ve spoken of them before, I am sure) … and that’s it.  Some bread and wine and voila … the Pasquetta picnic is complete.