Recipe: Fish Stuffing for Ravioli

For years, by far my favourite pasta was the black ravioli filled with Cod that Claudia sold in Vettovaglie; cooked as soon as the water came back to the boil, and served with just a coating of melted butter, the flavour was always excellent. Even after I began to make my own pasta again, last year ( after Claudia had disappeared and her beautiful shop had been transformed into an anodyne aladdin's cave selling sweets and over-decorated cakes) I held off trying to replicate this particular dish... probably from an undue sense of diffidence.

I shouldn't have done.

The following recipe is straightforward, and absolutely delicious. Even better, I think, than Claudia's version used to be. You don't have to use black pasta, if no squid ink is available, but it's better if you can, as the result is better aesthetically, and the ink imparts a slight tang to the pasta which works well against the creamy fishiness of the stuffing.

The quantities given here will leave you with enough stuffing to fill ravioli for four, with sufficient left over to make fish pithiviers as a starter for dinner later in the week.

For Four:

Ingredients: Black Pasta, made with 2 cups of '00' Flour, 3 Eggs, a generous pinch of Salt, a teaspoon of of Olive Oil, and a teaspoon of Squid Ink; 1 medium White Onion; 1 oz Butter; 2 large Anchovy Fillets; 14 oz Cod Fillet (or similar fleshy white fish); 1 cup White Wine; 5 oz Ricotta; 1 Egg; Salt & Pepper.

Method:

1. Make the Pasta dough in the food processor, and leave it to rest as you prepare the stuffing.

2. For the stuffing: sauté finely diced onion in melted butter for three or four minutes until it is translucent, add the Anchovy and cook for a further couple of minutes, stirring, to break up the fillets. Add Cod Fillet, cut into half-inch dice, raise the heat, and cook stirring for a couple of minutes, then add the Wine and reduce until the liquid has almost all gone. Remove from the heat, and leave to cool down for a few minutes before you stir in the Ricotta and the Egg. Before using, taste the stuffing and add seasoning as necessary.

3. Roll out the Pasta Dough into sheets about a foot long, and use each one to make five ravioli, using a teaspoon of stuffing in each one.

4. Bring to the boil a large pan of salted water, and add the ravioli to this. They're cooked as soon as the water returns to the boil, and the ravioli rise to the surface.

Serve, tossed in melted butter.

La Befana....and it's all over!

January 6th, and Christmas has finally come to an end.

In the UK, everything is over (including the shouting) once the hangover has wound down on January 1st; by the time the tree comes down on the 6th (if it even lasts that long) it's merely a sad and tired reminder of the long-distant memories of Christmas morning. In Italy, however, La Befana keeps it all going right through until the end. La Befana is an old crone with a broomstick, and January 6th is the day when she gives all good children shoes full of sweets as a reward for good behaviour (or, apparently, lumps of coal if otherwise). Mussolini was keen on the Befana celebration, apparently as part of the nationalist-consciousness-raising value that he ascribed to folklore customs of this kind (or 'fakelore' as the Technical Department growls disparagingly), but you can imagine he'd also have approved the practical arrangement of making the sixth a holiday, to allow people to remove all the detritus from Christmas and get their lives back on track in order to start the new year in an organised and productive manner.

So, we did. Final Christmas presents were exchanged on the evening of the fifth - a silver wine-bottle coaster, and a jar of Ukrainian honey from the central market in Kiev - and on the morning of the sixth the tree was denuded of ornaments and unceremoniously dumped in the rubbish bin in Via San Francesco. Sic gloria transit. Until next year.

Tonight's dinner:

Eggs in Ramekins with a saffron-scented Ratatouille.

Wood Pigeon in Parma Ham.

Limoncello Panna Cotta.

Making Caramel

People have been making a version of caramel pretty much since the advent of refined sugar, I would think - so, you'd expect the process would by now be well and truly sorted out. But, it seems not. No two versions that I've ever come across agree with each other - and the rather vague language the writers generally use makes me suspect that they've all had a nasty experience with the stuff at some point in the past (and which experienced cook hasn't? I know I have - it's almost impossible not to!)

Over the years, I've tried all sorts of different methods - the one where you laboriously brush the sides of the pan with cold water as the sugar bubbles...or the version where you dunk the bottom of the pan into iced water as soon as the caramel starts to colour - and the method given below is the only one I've tried that I really like and have found completely reliable. It's also the only one which uses lemon juice within the mixture, and although I have no idea structurally what difference it should make, it certainly seems to make the process much more straightforward. It comes from Anna del'Conte's 'Entertaining all'Italiana'...a book which briefly saw the light of day towards the end of the eighties and then seems to have sunk without trace.

The quantity is sufficient to use in six ramekins for either panna cotta or crème caramel.

Ingredients: 75g sugar; 3 tbs water; 1 tsp lemon juice.

Method:

Place all ingredients in a pan, and bring slowly to the boil, stirring gently with a wooden spoon. It will take some time to start to colour, but will then turn first a pale gold and then dark brown. At that point, remove it immediately from the heat and pour it into the containers. (NB: if using the caramel to line ramekins, it is best to heat them first in a 170 degree C oven for five minutes - this will prevent the caramel from 'seizing' when coming into contact with cold porcelain.)

Sunday Morning in Pisa...

Sunday mornings here are generally pretty low-key - which is strange, really, since it's hardly as though the preceding Saturday nights are scenes of unbridled debauchery in the streets of the town (quite the opposite, in fact - I should think most people are comfortably ensconced in front of the TV, if not actually tucked up in bed, by soon after sundown). The first Sunday of January, though, when we're still in the last days of the holiday period, is especially peaceful. One of the most promising times of the year to be doing anything which you don't want observed - which might explain why our neighbour Professor C was this morning unloading a truck-load of bricks in an otherwise deserted street, as we were heading off with the four-footeds for their morning constitutional in the Martyrs' Square. And if there was any doubt about his intentions, his shifty glare in our direction pretty much confirmed the truth, as the senior four-footed nonchalently cocked his leg against the frame of our portone. Ah well - nothing like a little permit-free illicit construction work to get the year started!

Glorious sunshine, and the streets and squares of the town completely empty. A brilliantly blue sky, and a bite in the air that was exhilerating up until the point that it suddenly just became uncomfortably cold. A very light frost on the grass - which I hope is as bad as it will get for the whole winter, otherwise the citrus trees will be at risk. Pisa in general is several degrees warmer in winter than either Florence or Lucca (even though the latter is only twenty minutes away , on the other side of the Monte Pisano) which is why the Medici court used to base itself here during the winter months, and why we can have lemon and orange trees planted in the soil, rather than in pots that have to be taken indoors to avoid the cold. Up in Belforte, their lemon tree spends the winter in the middle of the laundry room, which is not the most practical of arrangements when you're trying to get at the washing machine!

Twenty minutes spent appreciating the aesthetics of the town in winter sunshine, and then home for much-needed coffee, and chocolate and almond cake, while the dogs luxuriate in the warmth from the underfloor heating.

Tonight's Dinner:

Aubergine, Parmesan & Anchovy Tarts.

Blanquette of Guinea Fowl.

Upside-down Caramel Cream

And into 2009...The year of the dumpling!

...or it will be, if the Technical Department has his way. The appearance on the menu the other day of Porcini dumplings prompted a dewy-eyed meander through memories of 'dumplings of yester-year', and a general wondering aloud where they've disappeared to, and why. The answer to the latter, I suspect, is that they fell foul of the nouvelle cuisine brigade in the eighties, and nobody ever got round to resuscitating them afterwards. Until now.

In fact, there's a lot to be said for them, as part of a 'hearty fare' regime. The dumpling is much more versatile than say potato - and there are many different versions, both savoury and sweet. They take no time to make...and to start the ball rolling, here are two versions: one plain, and one which includes vegetables.

I. The Plain English Suet dumpling

Ingredients: 100g self raising flour (or 100g plain flour and 1 teaspoon baking powder); 50g Suet; Green Herbs of your choice (optional); Salt & Pepper; cold water to mix. Stock or water, to cook.

Method:

1. Blend the dry ingredients and herbs. Heat your cooking liquid (stock or water) to a gentle simmer.

2. When you are ready to cook the dumplings, add cold water to the mixture, stirring gently with a fork to make a very soft dough. Use a spoon dipped in cold water to scoop out a dumpling and drop it in the simmering stock.

3. Cook for up to 20 minutes, depending on size. Roll the dumplings over in the stock once or twice so they cook evenly. Serve immediately. The raising agent starts working the second you add water, so don't add the water until you are ready to cook the dumplings. You can add any chopped herbs you like.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

II. Spinach 'Canderli' from Alto Adige

Ingredients: 60g Onion, finely chopped; 1 garlic clove; 2 tbl butter; 100g Spinach - in Italy you can buy this or other greens already cooked; 2 eggs; 50ml milk; 30g cheese - cut in tiny dice - (any firm, but not hard, cheese will do: Emmental, Piave, Gruyere, Cheddar...) 1 tbl Flour; 150g stale bread, cut in tiny dice; grated nutmeg; Salt and pepper; grated parmesan and Butter heated until slightly brown (beurre noisette), to serve.

Method

1. Fry the onion and garlic gently in butter until soft. Let cool and then use a fork to mix gently with all the other ingredients. For the lightest canderli, you need a light touch. Mix the ingredients lightly and form the balls with the very minimum of pressure. If the mixture is crumbly, add a little more milk. Let the dough sit for 15 minutes, covered.

2. Form into small balls and poach in water or stock for upto 20 mins depending on their size.

3. Serve with grated parmesan and drizzled with hot noisette butter.

Last night, we welcomed in the New Year with White Truffle Risotto (yes - it IS that time of year again; although the euro exchange rate gave pause for thought before investing in even the most diminutive truffle I could find in Vettovaglie), followed by Guinea Fowl stuffed with Ricotta and Chicken Livers, with Garlic and Potato cakes, and then fresh Apricots in a caramelised Pistachio Cream. The rain beating gently down outside put paid to the al fresco festivities that the Commune had had in mind - although there were still enough pyrotechnic explosions to cause the junior four-footed to think armageddon was upon us (while the senior four-footed, who is pretty deaf these days, merely dozed through it all).

Tonight's dinner:

Tartlettes of Mushroom and Chicken Livers, in Marsala Cream (I have pastry and Livers that need to be used up)

Osso Bucco, with Sage and Orange Sauce.

Coconut Rice Pudding.

Recipe: Quail Consommé with Porcini Dumplings

This is the companion recipe to Roast Quail with Walnut Mashed Potato; the base for the Consommé is the remains of the sauce from that, with the addition of further quantities of good Chicken Stock, all simmered together for another half an hour or so. If you want to be uber-elegant, you can then clarify this with minced chicken breast and egg-white; personally, I don't bother (the idea that you throw away an entire uneaten Chicken Breast goes too much against the grain). If you want to make the Consommé from scratch, then you'll need the bones from 6 quail carcasses, carrot and leek to make a sofritto, 2 tablespoons of Soy Sauce, and about a litre of water or chicken stock.

The flavour of the Consommé is excellent! The 'dumplings', which in fact have the dense texture more of polpette, are little flavour bombs of porcini and tarragon...and the combination of the two is rich and beguiling.

For Four.

Ingredients: Quail Consommé, sufficient for four servings, made following one or other of the two methods given above; 10g dried Porcini; 2 Prunes; 100g cubed Pancetta; 1 egg; 2 tbs Milk; generous pinch of Baking Powder; 1 tbs chopped fresh Parsley and Tarragon, combined; 60g Bread, cubed; 3 tbs Flour; small clove of Garlic; Salt, Pepper and ground Nutmeg, to taste.

Method:

1. Soak the Porcini in hot water for 30 minutes to soften, then drain and rinse, to remove any grit.

2. Combine Porcini with all other ingredients (apart from the Consommé) in a food processor, and process for ten seconds or so, until it is a homogeneous mass.

3. Form the mixture into little balls, each about half an inch in diameter, and roll them lightly in Flour. You should have around 20 'dumplings'. Poach these for twenty minutes in simmering Chicken Stock or water.

4. Meanwhile, re-heat the Consommé, and check and adjust seasoning if necessary. When ready to serve, use a slotted spoon to place five 'dumplings' in each of four soup plates, and ladle hot Consommé over the top.

Winter Sunshine...

Lazy days. That wonderful doldrums period between Christmas and New Year when the days blend seamlessly together, and there comes a point when you can't quite remember which day it is any more. Punctuated by good food and wine, and walking the dogs, and reading beside the fire, and planning menus for the days to come...

For the most part, the weather is glorious. Sunshine fills the garden and streams into the house, with a Vermeer-like intensity. The blossoms on the Urophylla are opening en masse, in great cascades, and the cymbidium are on the verge of bursting into flower. The lemon crop is pretty good at this time of year, and we also have four glorious bergamot fruit ripening in the winter sun - although I'm still none the wiser about what exactly I can use them for. There are still a few blooms left on the Marie Pavie, but sadly last week's gale got rid of all the flowers on the Chinese Camellia; I imagine they're decorating a hedgerow somewhere in the vicinity of Livorno, by now.

The Loubet programme proceeds apace, with some pretty good discoveries along the way: already blogged are the recipes for rabbit en croute, and quails with walnut mash, but also to be recommended are his recipes for endives with orange, and fennel with allspice. Steak, topped with a confit of shallot and mustard was pretty good, too - as was pork, pot-roast with vanilla and coconut milk. He claims not to be particularly interested in desserts - although his recipe for iced white chocolate and gingerbread parfait is undeniably one of the best things I've ever eaten. Menu items for later this week include his rather wonderful Dark Treacle Tart, and an adaptation of his recipe for Peaches in Pistachio cream (but using fresh apricots, for which I've just located a supply in Via San Francesco).

Ok. Back to...um...doldrums. I want to finish the biography I'm currently reading of Isabella de Medici, and then need to think about pruning the pomegranate tree. And of course, at six o'clock we have present-giving and prosecco - which takes place every evening between Christmas and Twelfth night, in order to avoid a five minute orgy of unwrapping on the morning of December 25th, following which the Tree sits around looking rather forlorn and seeming increasingly pointless.

Tonight's Dinner:

Consommé of Quail, with Dumplings.

Escalope de Foie de Veau Mauricette

Poached Apricots, with Pistachio Cream.