Il Forno

Charred Peppers Salad, Southern Italian Style.

I am just back from my short Italian break, which has been full of relaxing days spent at the beach, nice food and the occasional Italy football match on TV. My notebook and digital camera have captured the best food moments of the past week and, day after day, the essence of those scraps and shots will appear here. To start, I picked one of the simplest dishes I made in the past week, yet one which perfectly sums up the essence of Italian summer: charred pepper salad.

While you can use any peppers you like for this dish, getting some sun-ripened peppers in season is the best you could wish for. If you cannot find those, supermarket ones will do, but absolutely avoid pre-packaged peppers stored under modified atmosphere: I find these have a peculiar stench that will not go away no matter which cooking technique or how much seasoning you use.

I had some delicious giant yellow bell peppers at hand, each shaped slightly differently from the next, which worked like a charm. It would be impossible to find peppers like these in a supermarket: too irregular for the modern city customer, which says loads on the consumer misinformation we are exposed to. Luckily, Italian markets have not succumbed to this idiotic mentality.

Our small but cosy seaside home was quite near to the town of Fondi, with its medieval city centre and its rather famous produce market, the MOF. This huge market, probably the largest in Southern Italy, is mainly for greengrocers and purveyors but it opens to the public after 11 AM. It is not a place for everyday shopping: everything is sold by the case. Still, if you're planning on spending a week or more in the area (or if you live here) and want to do some cooking, it is a great place to buy good quality ingredients at prices that range between one third and half of what you would find in stores just a few kilometres meters away. We did some shopping here at the very  beginning of our holiday bringing back a few kilos of Sicilian round aubergines, zucchini, cherries and clearly some huge misshapen yellow bell peppers I used for this recipe.

Gault Millau magazine Deutschland.

I must confess that I never particularly liked the German gastronomic magazines. A huge number of these fall either in the recipe collection or lifestyle groups: neither interest me much. I would have enough recipe to test to keep me busy for the next 15-20 years if I wanted to. The lifestyle magazines IMO aim at those who would want to be there – with the cool cars, perfect designed homes and clothes, drinking incredibly expensive wines – but are not rich and or sophisticated enough to live that life.

The only "real" food magazine to my eyes (at least among those widely available), Feinschmecker, always gave me the impression of being a food for show-offs kind of publication. I do occasionally buy it, but I have never went through a single issue without feeling terribly pissed off with one article or the other. Especially when people like Wolfram Siebeck, one of Germany's finest gourmets pens, go on with their spiel about how German haute cuisine is superior to others, even the French. Having read the same things in Italian magazines for ages, I know all too well what prejudiced and delusional culinary national pride hides behind this chest thumping, and I cannot avoid getting mad about it.

Last week my attention was grabbed by a new addition to the usual suspect on the cooking shelf of my newsagent: the bi-monthly German Gault Millau magazine. Had I missed this in the past five years all the time? No, GM magazine is a new publication. I grabbed one with the secret hope of having finally found what I had searched for. I have long had a greater sympathy for Gault Millau guides than the haughty Michelin ones with their stars falling from the heavens without a word of explanation, so I was favourably inclined to this magazine.

Mouflon dry-cured sausages

Curiosity is one of the things that most food lovers, and definitely most food bloggers, share. We're always looking for the next undiscovered restaurant, ingredient or dish that crosses our way, in the hope of feeling a new mind blowing emotion to enrich our knowledge. For the bloggers among us, the desire to find a new story to tell adds an extra dimension to the search for novelties.

Today restaurants tempt us with an array of unusual and exotic ingredients, and even the plain old meat course has acquired a number of new entries that are muscling their way through the beef, pork, lamb and game classics. Ostrich and kangaroo, or for the faint hearted Australus, have been around for over two decades (in European restaurants, that is). Crocodile seems to be becoming popular, at least with farmers breeding them. Bison is quickly gaining a gourmet street cred, with places like Alinea in Chicago using this meat successfully, as it seems.

In Italy there is an old tradition of alternative meats like donkey and horse, while European water buffalo is slowly carving a small market niche for itself. Yet, the real red-hot new meat back home seems to be European Mouflon. This animal has been on the diet of the people of its native Sardinia for ages, but a bit of good old press put it onto the radar of gourmets. About three years ago Davide Paolini, the gastronomical critic of the financial newspaper Il Sole 24 Ore, wrote an article about Mouflon meat cooked by chef Fulvio Pierangelini – chef-owner of Il Gambero Rosso in San Vincenzo, Tuscany, considered by some of Italy's finest food journos as the best chef back home –which sparked some interests in pro-cooks and food lovers. Mouflon remains a bit of a rarity though: although a near relative of sheep, it is anything but docile and it must be reared in a state of semi-liberty, needing great spaces to roam free. For this reason it has remained an elusive ingredient even on the table of the best restaurants.

Sun and sea... here I come!

I am off to the southern Lazio coast for a short but hopefully relaxing seaside vacation. While I tan myself in the Italian sun and enjoy the local food, posting will continue regularly thanks to Typepad's  handy scheduled posting function. Arrivederci!

(picture above curtesy of GoogleEarth)

Tallinn, (final) take 5: Estonian food in Eesti Maja.

And so I come to the final post of this series on Tallinn. Though it will probably not be the last Estonian flavoured post to appear on this blog, I wanted to tie things up with a post about Estonian cuisine and one of the Tallinn restaurants specialising in it: Eesti Maja.

You should not to get the idea that Tallinn has only traditional or medieval restaurants, so I should mention that, like in any European capital, there are quite a few exclusive restaurants offering refined international cuisine. If that is what you are after, then, according to what I read on the web, places like Ö and Bocca might be a good choice; Silk sushi is for some people a real hidden treasure; and clearly one should not forget Estonia's own celebrity chef Imre Kose and his Vertigo, opening in July (maybe, I would add, since the opening date has been shifted forward a few times already). All these places certainly tickled my curiosity, but when travelling somewhere new I prefer to get a taste of the local cuisine instead of going for stuff I could get elsewhere.

In Tallinn there is a small group of Estonian restaurants that seem to pop up in every guidebook I have read. Apart Eesti Maja, two traditional places are Kuldse Notsu Kõrts (Little Piggy Inn, Dunkri 8) and Vanaema Juures (Grandma's Place, Rataskaevu 10/12). There is also Maiasmokk, serving a modernised version of traditional cuisine, which I mentioned before and comes with Pille's recommendation.

I picked Eesti Maja mainly because it was the one place that seemed to come up again and again with goodish reviews on the web, but with a little more time I would have liked to try at least another of the remaining three mentioned above. Looking at the restaurant's website you would be excused for thinking that the place is not exactly appealing on the aesthetic level, i.e. looks like a dump, but you would be wrong. It is seldom that an establishment manages to sell itself so short on its own website, but Eesti Maja manages this feat. Instead, the atmosphere is rustic, yet warm and cosy, and the non-smoking room on one end of the restaurant where we dined was even quite intimate.

WBW#22: 2004 Herzog von Auerstedt, Regent Saale Unstrut Qualitaetswein.

You would think that finding a red wine with less than 12.5% alcohol in Germany would be a piece of cake. I did too, when I read the theme that Tim, over at Winecast, picked for WBW#22: low alcohol reds. Think again: scanning the local stores, the lowest % alcohol German reds I managed to find are exactly on that limit. I only managed to come across one single bottle of red with 12% – from the sunny Italian island of Sardinia nonetheless – but having already decided for a German wine, I picked a local product of the Saale Unstrut wine region.

I never thought the alcohol percentage in a wine would make me feel old, yet it did. I was telling Daniela how 13-14% wines were considered alcohol bombs back when I started getting interested in wine-tasting and she just looked at me, smiled and told me I sounded like a pensioner rambling about the "good old times". Isn't she the loveliest wife? Nonetheless, I do miss having more low-alcohol every day wines at hand, especially to go with this season's cuisine and temperatures... even if I sound like a moaning old man when I say so!

The wine I picked for this edition of WBW is a 2004 Saale Unstrut Qualitaetswein made by the local Thüringer Weingut Bad Sulza from Regent grapes. I had never tried Regent before. This is hybrid grape variety with high resistance to fungal diseases, which is said to produce either warm wines from cold terroirs or products that resemble Rhone wines in their aroma. It is certainly becoming increasingly popular in Germany, and to some extent in England too. The wine itself is a special edition bottle released for the bicentenary German-French celebrations of the battles of Jena and Auerstedt between the Napoleonic troops and the Prussian-Saxon alliance.

The wine itself opens on fruity notes of damsons, blackberries and raspberries, with just a touch of cloves, leather and earth following, but it slightly lacks cleanness, closing on a weak chemical-waxy note. It is well balanced in taste, where the fruity notes return albeit less defined than in the bouquet; the finish is medium closing with a not too pleasing bitter note.Though not completely disappointing, it is another Saale Unstrut red that falls short of expectations, contrary to what I am discovering about the local whites.

Tallinn, take 4: of supermarkets and chocolate.

I have a confession to make. It might loose me whatever gourmet street cred I have – what's life without a little thrill? – but here it goes: I have an acute fascination for markets and supermarkets.

Markets are fine actually, especially if you belong to the SlowFoodite eat local fraction, which I incidentally feel pretty close to. Local products, artisan made and all that. It fits perfectly in the XXI century cool people's food culture. But supermarkets? For many they are the evil empire, the globalisation machine at its worst, selling unhealthy and badly tasting products to the unknowing masses. I won't deny I have a food snob streak in me: if I have the choice, I would mainly buy goods coming from excellent local producer, but, being pragmatic, I do quite a bit of shopping in supermarkets.

Yet, whatever the criticism, supermarkets intrigue me (and I know I am not alone in this). Those who criticise them for being one of the ugly arms of globalisation should give a closer look. Sure, they sell the whole array of soft drinks, snacks, chocolates etc. that you find everywhere, but that's just one part of the story. To me supermarkets are to food what soap operas are to performing arts: they are the manifestation of pop culture, food-pop in this case. And as pop culture they differ from country to country in a multitude of peculiar and unique details, which give each of these stores a recognisable national mark. In Italy, for example, I am pretty sure I could tell you in which region you are just by looking at the cheese and cured meats counters.

You think it is obvious? Well, so do I, but I know not everyone sees it so. If, on the other hand, you thinks that's a load of bollocks try a little experiments next time you travel abroad. Before you leave home visit your local supermarket, then visit one in your country of destination. When you go home, have a look at your store again. Notice any differences? I bet you do, and those details are what marks your local place unique to your culture.

I love to play this game whenever I am abroad so I could not miss the chance to have a go at it in Tallinn.

The closest I got to a market was the row of colourful flower shops that marks the beginning of Viru street. Unfortunately too little time in the end to visit the real central market, Kesksturg. Instead, finding a supermarket was no problem.We just had to cross the road from our bus stop and get into the Kaubamaja department store.

Tallinn, take 3: eating Medieval style in Olde Hansa.

Tallinn's restaurant scene boasts a few Medieval themed restaurants: not surprising, given the city's historical heritage and the marketing used to promote it. The absolutely first eating out suggestion I got about Tallinn Came from Juliane, a friend of ours. As soon as she heard we were headed there, she made us promise that we would be eating out in the Medieval themed  Olde Hansa. Juliane, who has a passion for Medieval stuff, had eaten there, loved it and raved about it in such a way that we had no doubt we just HAD to try it out... if only to stop our ears from falling off. Still, I have to admit I was slightly dubious, and not because of Juliane's enthusiasm.

The problem is, whenever I had visited a Medieval themed place before, be it a restaurant or open-air feast (of which Germany has its fair share), I always felt like I was landing straight into a classic tourist trap. The "medieval theme" too often turns out to be food served under make-believe medieval names by people dressed up in costumes. Sometimes there's a show, but I'll leave that for anyone into blogging about torture. Arguing if the recipes are accurate or not does not, in most cases, even come close to the real problem: the use of tomatoes, potatoes and other "New World" ingredients says it all. Although I did not try any of Tallinn's Medieval restaurants apart Olde Hansa, I quickly started to suspect that the majority are the kind of places I just described. Call it sixth sense... or maybe it is just dishes like chicken teriyaki or gumbo that are a give-away.

I shouldn't have worried too much. Once we got to Olde Hansa and started browsing the menu I had to admit to myself that things would be quite different here. The naming of the dishes can be a bit preposterous at times, sounding like a mix between parodic Medieval prose and something put together by a chef in need of an ego massage (Grand beef of the Mighty Knight anyone?), but once I got over the pompous names I couldn't help  notice that the menu seemed to be put together far more seriously than usual. The majority of the dishes focus on meat – there is even bear for the curious and brave – but chicken, fish and vegetarian courses get their share in the part dedicated to Lent dishes. Not being familiar with the details and evolution of Medieval cuisine, especially that of northern Europe, I have no idea of how authentic the recipes used really are. They do give the impression of being well researched with a predominance of Hanseatic-inspired cooking, and at least there's no trace of the usual obvious historical mistakes.

The interiors of Olde Hansa contribute to recreating the Medieval atmosphere as much as the food. Everything keeps the historic spirit of the place, from the nature-tones tinted frescos inspired to the art of the time to the lighting,  provided almost entirely by candle (although with a minimal use of  artificial bulbs). A professional historian might probably find reasons for criticising the decor, but for the rest of us the effect is quite stunning. The "wax cascade" (above, left) made by the candles illuminating the staircase to the first floor gives you a good idea of how many candles these people must go through. What was unexpected was the the toilets, where all the modern comforts are disguised to look "medieval", just like the sink tap transformed into a copper kettle.

Gourmet Cartoons- Pixar's Ratatouille

It was only a matter of time. After food TV, gourmet kitchenware and not last food blogsit had to happen: the animated gourmet movie.

In summer 2007 Pixar will be releasing Ratatoille, a computer animated movie centered around the adventures of a gourmet rat living in the sewers of Paris.

Just had a look at the trailer: the movie promises to be real fun for both food lovers and food slobs. You can bet I will be there when it comes out.

See the Quicktime trailer here.

Wine Tasting Notes: Naumburger Sonneneck 2004 Saale Unstrut Riesling trocken QbA, Weingut Pawis.

The recent Fabulous Favourites Festival has had one peculiar side-effect on me and this blog. I had not written about wine for ages, but after a little warm-up exercise and my event entry, I noticed I wanted to go on and have an excuse to write about wine again. Actually, why  should I need an excuse on my own blog? My tasting notes are not going to be as good as those of the dedicated wine bloggers out there, but having had the proper wine tasting training I think I could still manage to put together something that is not completely meaningless.

This is also the chance to launch a new category dedicated to Jena and surroundings. Although the area around here is not the centre of gastronomic life I would like it to be, it still has quite a bit to offer. I used to have the occasional local post some time ago, but that slowed to a halt way back. Time to pick up that thread again.

Back to wine for a little introduction on east German wine: after the fall of the Berlin Wall the eastern German wine industry has somewhat struggle to meet the standard of its western colleagues, catching up with modern oenological advances and marketing, yet things are changing. The best producers of the area are slowly being recognised nationally and local wine is finally earning some due respect. There are two protected Denominations of Origin areas (Anbaugebiete in German) in the east, Sachsen, located around Dresden, and the Saale Unstrut region, starting only a few kilometres north of Jena and centred around Naumburg and Freyburg.

Living so close to the latter, I have had quite a few chances to taste a number of the local wines, predominantly the dry ones produced as Qualitätswein or Kabinett according to the German wine classification. Many of these are perfectly fine wines, in a simple and immediate way, but none has ever particularly rocked my world. Talking to another wine-aficionado in a local shop a few months ago, I was told to try the wines made by Weingut Pawis, hinting that these might chance my opinion of the local tipple. Pawis is by far the producer with the best reputation around here, getting good press and prizes with every vintage. The winery itself is pretty young: it opened in 1990 with only half an hectare of vineyard and has since then slowly expanded: the cellar that is used today only became operative in 1999.