Recipes

Apricots in Vanilla Syrup
Albicocche Sciroppate

June 17, 2021 By Deborah Dal Fovo Leave a Comment

Carpe diem! That’s the Latin phrase meaning “seize the day” and it was exactly what I did when I spotted the first apricots of the year at my farmers’ market. While I always prepare jam with summer apricots, this fruit was so small and perfect that I decided to make my Apricots in Vanilla Syrup and capture their whole natural goodness in a jar. Since apricots are the first sweet taste of stone fruit in late spring/early summer but have an all-too-brief season, I make their enjoyment last a little longer by preserving them in simple syrup in shelf-stable jars.

When I saw the sea of beautiful Gold Kist apricots piled on the market stand, I had a delicious déjà vu of my life in Tuscany decades earlier when our fruit trees produced a bumper crop of tiny, sweet apricots like these…all at once! The harvest was so bountiful that we didn’t know where to put them, so every flat surface of my home was covered in blushing little orbs that gave the rooms a warm glow and a magical scent. The delicate apricots ripened quickly and I soon realized that we couldn’t possible eat all the fruit au naturel, so I needed to find ways to cook them presto or they’d spoil. I quickly got to work preparing everything I could think of with apricots—jams, preserves, cakes, tarts, breads…even a lovely liqueur. But perhaps the purest and most natural way I captured the essence of that special summer was by making these albicocche sciroppate, apricots in vanilla syrup, that I jarred for the winter.

Making them is incredibly easy and well worth the little time it takes. First, I halve the apricots, reserving their hard pits to crack open and extract the precious kernels inside—called mandorle amare or bitter almonds—to give the syrup a hint of almond flavor. In fact, bitter almonds are often finely ground and added to Italian baked goods—in particular almond biscotti from Tuscany known as cantucci—to give them a lingering aromatic quintessence that almonds alone can’t provide. Next, I make a simple syrup—an appropriate name for the equal parts sugar and water mixture that, when boiled, become a sweet, silky base in which to preserve the apricots—adding vanilla bean for extra sensual flavor (spices like cardamom seeds or cinnamon stick are lovely too). Then, I pack the apricot halves tightly in sterilized canning jars and pour over the molten syrup before sealing and processing in a hot water bath.

Once cool, I store the jars of jewel-like Apricots in Vanilla Syrup in my pantry to savor during the cold, dark winter months when I crave a ray of summer sunshine and a taste of summer fruit. I spoon the shiny, golden apricots over gelato, on cake, or eat on their own…in a pool of luscious syrup.

I hope that you seize the apricot-moment and preserve some to enjoy all year long. Just follow my recipe and video!

APRICOTS IN VANILLA SYRUP – Albicocche Sciroppate
{recipe}

Makes three 1-cup jars

1 pound/454g ripe yet firm apricots, preferably small and unblemished
½ cup/120g water
½ cup/100g sugar (preferably organic cane sugar
3 two-inch/4cm pieces of vanilla bean, scored
12 apricot kernels (removed from apricot pits)
Special equipment:
3 half-pint/240ml canning jars with new lids
Canning pot with rack or large pot with lid and clean towel; tongs

Note: before beginning recipe, wash and sterilize jars as directed in “Hot water bath canning method” below.

Wash the apricots under cold, running water and pat dry. Divide each apricot in half lengthwise by using a sharp knife to cut along the natural crease of the fruit starting from the stem dimple and continuing around its circumference. Separate apricot halves by gently twisting apart then remove the pits and reserve.

Crack open 12 apricot pits and extract the kernels. To do this, place the pits in a clean cloth or towel and tap with a hammer until the shell cracks. Remove inner kernels (that look like almonds) and discard pit shards. The apricot kernels—called bitter almonds—will add a delicate almond flavor to the syrup.

Prepare a simple syrup by placing water, sugar, and vanilla beans in a small saucepan and bringing to a boil over medium heat. Boil for 1 or 2 minutes until sugar has melted completely and a medium consistency syrup is created. Keep the syrup hot over low heat without boiling further.

Arrange the apricots—cut side down—in warm sterilized jars, fitting their curves snugly against each other. Gently press down to pack as many apricot halves as possible in the jar (without bruising the fruit) to 1/2-inch below rim. Insert 4 apricot kernels in each jar.

Remove the vanilla beans from syrup and place one in each jar. Pour hot syrup over the apricots to cover, leaving about 1/2-inch headspace below jar rims. Wipe the rims with a clean, damp paper towel to remove any traces of syrup then screw on lids and twist until just fingertip tight.

Process the jars in boiling water using the water bath canning method (see method below) for 15 to 20 minutes for half-pint jars (10 minutes for 1/2-cup/120ml jars) then store in a cool, dark place for up to one year.

Hot water bath canning method:

1. Wash jars, lids and bands in hot, soapy water and rinse well. Let the lids and bands air dry on clean towel. Sterilize the jars in boiling water for 5 to 10 minutes then drip dry overturned on a clean towel. Alternatively, sterilize jars by placing upright on a baking sheet and heating in a 250°F/121°C oven for 20 minutes before filling. Sterilize jars just before filling and keep hot so they are the same temperature (or close to it) as hot ingredients.

2. Carefully fill hot jars (preferably using a wide-mouth funnel) with hot ingredients leaving 1/2-inch headspace below rim of jar for half-pint jars or larger (for smaller jars leave 1/4-inch headspace below rims). Wipe rims with a clean, damp paper towel and allow to dry briefly. Place new lids and bands on jars, then twist just until fingertip tight, without over tightening.

3. Use a canning pot with rack or arrange a cotton napkin or kitchen towel in the bottom of a pot large enough to hold jars without touching and tall enough to allow 2 to 3 inches headspace over jars. Carefully place filled jars in pot and cover with hot water by at least 2 inches. Place over high heat and bring water to a boil then adjust heat to steady simmer. Cover pot and boil the jars at a constant simmer for the time specified in recipe or according to instructions for specific size jar, adjusted for altitude if needed.

4. Turn off heat and let jars stand in hot water for 5 minutes then remove using tongs and place on wire rack or kitchen towel to cool undisturbed for 12 hours. When jars are completely cool, check that each lid has sealed properly by pressing down in center. Lid center should remain down if properly vacuum sealed and not pop up or down when pressed. Tighten lid bands if loosened. Store in cool, dry place for up to 1 year.

PROOF IN THE PUDDING
MAGIC LEMON PUDDING {GLUTEN AND DAIRY FREE RECIPE}

February 15, 2020 By Deborah Dal Fovo 2 Comments

Once in a blue moon, I come across a recipe that surprises me. This Magic Lemon Pudding is one of those. When my food writing mentor and friend, Tori Ritchie, posted a genius recipe for Lemon Meringue Pudding on her blog, I was intrigued. She found it in her mother’s recipe box and it was an oldie-but-goodie dessert that her family enjoyed for decades. Not only did the vintage recipe’s name pique my curiosity (after all, who doesn’t love the taste and textures of lemon meringue pie), but the easy, breezy one-bowl batter that magically transforms in the oven into a multi-layer dessert with silky lemon curd layer and spongy cake topping made my mouth water. I had to try it—only there was a slight problem. The recipe called for milk and flour in addition to Meyer lemons, sugar, and eggs. I’ve been avoiding gluten and dairy for health concerns and this recipe was theoretically a no-no. But I’ve always hated the word “no” and was determined to have my pudding and eat it too. So, into kitchen I went to try and adapt the recipe to be both gluten-free and dairy-free.

Developing recipes is like playing mad scientist. You add a little of this, less of that, a pinch of something else until—presto, you get it right. The alchemist in me loves to fiddle with recipes because I never know what will happen along the way. That’s exactly how this went. After posting a photo of my first test pudding on Instagram, I got a comment from a woman saying it was her favorite childhood dessert too—only her mother’s English recipe was called Lemon Delicious. Hmmmm, I thought, let me investigate this further. After some research, I found an (almost) identical baked lemon pudding recipe that was popular in Britain and Australia decades ago but also contained butter. The recipe plot just thickened! What at first glance seemed to be an easy adaptation suddenly turned into a whole other pudding—I had just gone down the recipe writing rabbit hole ; )

Like the Rolling Stone’s song “I can’t get no satisfaction”, gluten-free recipe adaptations seldom taste or behave like their wheat-containing predecessors. Especially in baking, where the gluten in wheat flour thickens and binds ingredients in a way non-wheat flours don’t. For that reason, a thickening agent like tapioca, potato flour, or cornstarch is added to gluten-free flour. Then there’s the substititution of the milk. I’ve tried many non-dairy plant-based milks like almond, coconut, and cashew but don’t get the same satisfaction (there’s that “s” word again) that cows’ milk gives me—with the happy exception of oat milk. Oat milk’s creamy consistency and neutral flavor makes it more similar to cows’ milk than nut milk, without adding extra flavor. I also chose oat flour to sub in for the wheat flour to keep the taste uniform and because I find it performs well in gluten-free baking.

The beauty of this Magic Lemon Pudding is that the batter is quick and easy to whip up in one bowl before pouring into a single baking dish or individual ramekins. That means less clean up (don’t we all love that?). First, I beat my egg whites in a squeaky-clean mixing bowl until light and fluffy then slide them into a smaller bowl while I use the same, unwashed mixing bowl to mix the other ingredients before gently folding the egg whites back in. This gives the batter its airiness, which—when baked in a bain-marie—causes it to rise like a cake and (I suspect) magically separate into layers. Beating the egg yolks with cornstarch and sugar until creamy before adding the zest, lemon juice, oat milk, and oat flour separately insures that each ingredient blends smoothly for a lump-free pudding. It’s worthwhile to use Meyer lemons—a hybrid of citron and mandarin orange—whose golden skin adds beautiful color and sweet juices a delicate lemon flavor without the tartness.

After all my testing, the proof was (literally) in the pudding. Just like Goldilocks, I tested—and tasted—each variation of the original recipe. One was too soft, one too stiff, another too lumpy, until finally—one was just right! The batter made with oat milk, oat flour, and cornstarch separated beautifully into a golden lid of spongy soufflé-like cake that, when pierced with a spoon, revealed a luscious lemony pudding beneath—just like the original recipe. I’m not sure how it happens but it’s so magical that I’m calling my gluten-free and dairy-free recipe: Magic Lemon Pudding. If you’re a lemon lover like me, this recipe will become a favorite of yours too!

GLUTEN-FREE & DAIRY FREE
MAGIC LEMON PUDDING

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on February 7, 2020

I renamed this recipe Magic Lemon Pudding because the easy breezy, one-bowl batter magically transforms in the oven into a multi-layer dessert with silky lemon curd layer and souffle-like cake topping. My gluten-free and dairy-free recipe is adapted from Tori Ritchie’s Tuesday Recipe for Lemon Meringue Pudding. ©2020 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 15m
Cook Time: 40m

Serves: 6
Category: Baked Goods, Baking, Dairy Free, Desserts - Dolci, Gluten Free, Recipes

Ingredients

Unsalted butter, for greasing baking dish/es
3 large eggs, at room temperature
Pinch of salt
1 tablespoon cornstarch
3/4 cup/150 g granulated white or cane sugar
Grated zest of 1 Meyer lemon (regular lemon can be substituted)
1/3 cup/80 ml Meyer or regular lemon juice
1 cup/240 ml gluten-free oat milk, at room temperature
1/4 cup/25 g gluten-free oat flour
Powdered sugar to garnish (optional)

Instructions

Preheat oven to 350°F/180°C. Bring a kettle of water to boil.
Grease an 8-inch glass baking dish (or six 1-cup ramekins) with butter. Select a larger baking dish or roasting pan that the baking dish/ramekins will comfortably fit into with space around to create a bain-marie.
Separate the eggs and place egg whites and a pinch of salt into the clean, dry bowl of a stand mixer with whisk attachment. Beat egg whites on medium speed until thick and frothy then increase speed and beat until they hold stiff (but not dry) peaks. Using a spatula, scrape the mounted egg whites into a separate bowl and set aside.
Place the egg yolks and cornstarch in the mixer bowl (without washing it or the whisk attachment) and beat briefly until smooth. With the machine running, add the sugar in increments and beat until mixture is pale and creamy.
Add the zest and lemon juice and mix to combine then pour in the oat milk and mix well.
Add the oat flour and beat briefly until smoothly incorporated without overworking.
Using a rubber spatula, gently fold one-third of the egg whites into the lemon batter. Add another third of the egg whites, incorporating well without deflating batter, then fold in remaining whites until batter is smooth and airy.
Pour batter into greased baking dish/es and place in the larger pan. Position pan in the center of oven rack and carefully pour boiling water from the kettle into outer pan until it comes about halfway up the sides of inner dish/es. Bake until golden brown on top, 35 to 40 minutes. Let cool slightly, then spoon the pudding into dessert bowls, dust with powdered sugar, and serve warm.

SAVORY EASTER TART
TORTA SALATA PASQUALE

April 18, 2019 By Deborah Dal Fovo Leave a Comment

savory-easter-tart

Easter is a time of new beginnings. Of transformation and rebirth. So, why not give a traditional dish new life with a modern update? That’s precisely what I was thinking when I did a riff on the classic Italian Easter pie, Torta Pasqualina, to create my Savory Easter Tart. Don’t get me wrong—I love Torta Pasqualina with its layer-upon-layer olive oil pastry crust and whole cooked eggs nestled in thick swaths of ricotta and greens filling. But let’s be honest—the dish can be a bit weighty both on the stomach and the work load—so I decided to revamp it for contemporary tastes and cooks that don’t have time to preapre elaborate dishes into this lighter and more elegant appetizer for Easter lunch.

savory-easter-tart-cut

I set about deconstructing and redesigning the original pie using (more or less) the same ingredients for their magical flavor combination—only elaborated and arranged differently. Since my memory was still vivid of first spying a rarified version of torta pasqualina in an upscale Milan gastronomic shop and marveling at the carefully arranged ribbons of green, white, and pink ingredients framing whole cooked eggs inside—I wanted to achieve a pastel-colored ribbon effect in a low profile, tidy tart. So, instead of mixing all the elements together and breaking whole eggs into divets in the filling, I divide my Savory Easter Tart into stratas and beat the eggs in a creamy custard to pour over separate layers of spinach and ricotta filling, diced ham, and fontina cheese. The result is an open face, multi-layer tart that in Italy is called torta salata—or savory tart similar to French quiche.

savory-easter-tart-slice-side

Then, in lieu of the anywhere from six to thirty-three layers of olive oil pastry layers with top and bottom crusts in the classic version, I line my tart pan with a single sheet of rich butter and egg pastry dough that is super flaky yet sturdy enough to hold a fancy border. Once the pastry shell is filled, I roll the overhanging dough inward to create a fat cord edge then cut it diagonally with scissors to form pointy “beaks”. This border is inspired by the savory tarts of Lucca that are customarily adorned with a golden crown of pastry becchi. During baking, the pastry puffs up (thanks to the butter and eggs) into fine, golden layers, creating a satisfyingly crisp base for the creamy, tender filling.

savory-easter-tart-2

So, there you have it—a behind the scenes look at creating a modern twist on a traditional holiday dish! I hope you like my Savory Easter Tart and will make it for your friends and family. Let me know in the comments below.

This Easter, I’m celebrating new beginnings, transformation and rebirth in cooking and beyond and wish you Happy Easter, Buona Pasqua, and buon appetito!

From my kitchen to your family table,

Deborah

SAVORY EASTER TART
Torta Salata Pasquale

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on April 15, 2019

This savory tart is my riff on the traditional Torta Pasqualina, an elaborate Italian Easter pie made with multiple layers of pastry dough and filled with whole eggs. My modern version uses the same ingredients and rearranges them in elegant, colorful layers to capture the same magical flavors with less fuss. ©2019 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 45m
Cook Time: 40m

Serves: 8
Yield: One 9-inch tart
Category: Antipasti - Appetizers, Baked Goods, Eggs, First Courses - Primi, Recipes, Tarts, Verdure - Vegetables

Ingredients

For the pastry dough:

1¾ cups/250g unbleached all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons/113g unsalted butter, cold and cut into ½ inch cubes
2 large eggs

For the tart filling:

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons/29g butter, plus more to grease tart pan
1 shallot, finely minced
2 tablespoons water
1 pound/455g spinach in bunch (or 8 ounces/227g spinach leaves)
½ cup/125g ricotta cheese, strained of excess moisture if needed
1 tablespoon fresh marjoram leaves, finely chopped
3½ ounces/100g sliced cooked ham, cut into small dice
3½ ounces/100g fontina cheese, cut into small dice
1 cup/250ml heavy cream plus 1 tablespoon for egg wash
3 large eggs
¼ cup/38g freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano or Grana Padano
Kosher or sea salt
Freshly ground white or black pepper
Freshly ground nutmeg (optional)
Special equipment: 9-inch round tart or pie pan

Instructions

Make the pastry dough by placing flour and salt in a large bowl and whisking to sift together. Add the cold butter pieces and toss in the flour to to coat. Rub the butter between your fingers until a crumbly mixture forms. Add the eggs and stir with a fork to combine then work the dough lightly with your hands until it holds together. Turn onto a lightly floured work surface and knead briefly until smooth (without overworking) then shape into a round, flat disk. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours and up to 24 hours.
Trim off the stems from the spinach bunch and discard. Rinse the leaves well in several changes of cold water and drain. Place the spinach with water clinging in a large skillet or sauté pan with a tight fitting lid. Sprinkle with salt then cover and cook over medium heat for about 8 minutes or until leaves are tender, stirring occasionally and adding a small amount of water if needed to prevent scorching. The spinach will reduce in mass considerably as it cooks. Lift the cooked spinach out of the pan and transfer to an ice water bath for a couple of minutes then drain well (this will preserve its green color). Gather the spinach into a ball with your hands and squeeze well to eliminate all excess moisture, then place of a cutting board and chop finely.
Heat the olive oil, 1 tablespoon of the butter, minced shallots, pinch of salt, and 2 tablespoons water in a skillet over medium heat. Sauté the shallots until softened and all water has evaporated without browning,, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the chopped spinach, season lightly with salt and pepper and cook for a few minutes, stirring to coat spinach with the cooking oils. Remove from heat, transfer to a mixing bowl and cool completely. When cool, add the ricotta and chopped marjoram and mix well.
Using a rolling pin on a lightly floured work surface, roll the pastry dough into a 15-inch circle. Transfer the sheet of pastry to a buttered tart tin, centering it in the pan, and smoothly line the sides and bottom with dough. Roll the overhanging dough into a border then pinch, cut or mark to create a decorative edge (I roll it toward the center then make diagonal cuts to form beaks). Place tart shell on a baking sheet in the refrigerator until needed.
Preheat the oven to 400°F/200°C.
Heat the cream in a small saucepan until small bubbles form around the edge of the pan but without boiling. In a medium bowl, beat 2 of the eggs well together with grated cheese then slowly add the warm cream, a little at a time, while whisking continuously. Season the egg mixture with ½ teaspoon salt, freshly ground pepper, and nutmeg if desired.
Spread the spinach ricotta mixture evenly over bottom of the tart crust. Sprinkle with a layer of chopped ham then with a layer of chopped fontina cheese. Carefully pour the egg mixture over top. Prepare an egg wash by beating the remaining egg with 1 tablespoon cream then brush the pastry border with the wash.
Place the tart in lower half of the hot oven and bake for about 40 minutes until the custard is set and the pastry is deep golden brown. Remove from oven and cool for 10 minutes before cutting into wedges. Serve warm or at room temperature.

BITTERSWEET LOVE {SALAD}
Blood Orange, Arugula & Red Onion Salad

February 14, 2019 By Deborah Dal Fovo Leave a Comment

For lovers around the world, Valentine’s Day is a giddy time to celebrate shared love with hearts and flowers, candy and candle-lit dinners. But what about those of us who are love-less? The ones who lost love, were betrayed in love, or for whom love never even bothered to show up. You know, the kind of love stories that leave a bitter taste in your mouth. What do we celebrate when everyone wears their hearts on their sleeves this Valentine’s Day? We celebrate bittersweet love. That once-possessed, been-there-done-that love story that is no longer and it’s alright. We may be in between lovers or just ok with being happily single, because we can turn lost love’s bittersweet taste into delicious satisfaction. For that reason I created my Bittersweet Love Salad.

They say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. True, though it can be hard to believe when you are in the throes of a breakup, estrangement, or divorce. That’s exactly what happened to me a decade ago. I was fresh out of a marriage-gone-wrong and not feeling very excited about the looming V-Day. But, I was designing a menu and recipes for my Valentine’s cooking class and needed inspiration. After overdosing on all the sticky romantic sweetness of classic dishes, I was about to give up. My heart just wasn’t in it—my heart was broken. I was feeling angry and reluctant to celebrate love—bitter and mad at stupid-cupid for getting me into this mess. Then it hit me—I could create a dish that honored the downside of love. The edgy, other-side-of-amore with lots of flavor and emotion. This could be fun! I set out to choose my ingredients with care—and a pinch of revenge, a dash of malice—but all in the name of good fun and good food.

The first thing I chose were some bitter lettuces to pair with sweeter flavors. My first choice was arugula, the beloved spicy green that’s delicate but also asserts its personality in any situation. While thought of as a leafy green, arugula is actually from the brassica family (cabbage, broccoli, cauliflower) and helps detoxify the body. Its peppery flavor has a natural cooling effect that will work to cool off my temper, I thought. I mixed the arugula with some milder speckled and red leaf lettuces and a little frisée—a curly member of the chicory family with a delicious bitter edge. Bitterness can actually be good medicine since studies have shown that bitter-is-better for health and wellbeing. I also added some lovely spears of red endive for more color and bitter sweetness.

I was seeing red, so it was only natural that I added Blood Oranges to the salad as a no-brainer during February citrus season—and since their vibrant crimson, almost blood-red flesh draws red juice when cut. These juices were running deep—and right into the salad dressing to turn it a beautiful ruby hue. Blood oranges hail from Sicily and are prized citrus fruit with a red-blushed rind and tart sweetness unlike any other fruit. They have an intense aroma and tangy dolcezza with hints of raspberry, which I happily enhanced with raspberry balsamic vinegar in the dressing. The abundant vitamins and minerals in blood oranges may not heal a broken heart, but they will keep it beating and healthy for the next love story! I also gleefully added thin slices of red onion to the salad for an appropriate amount of vengeful bite, and shaved radishes for a riotous, kick-in-the-pants punch that I wish I’d given my ex. All in all, it’s not only a bright, colorful salad perfect for Valentine’s Day, but a flavor-forward, match-made-in-heaven mix of bitter, sweet, and spicy ingredients for an uplifting dish all winter long.

Now, instead of eating your heart out, you can eat my beautiful Bittersweet Love Salad. I guarantee that the lingering taste of love in your mouth will not be bitter. It will be a delicious, bittersweet flavor to savor loves past and loves future—or maybe just the love of bitter greens and fruit ; ) Love yourself today and Happy Valentine’s Day to all!

BITTERSWEET LOVE SALAD
Insalata Dolceamaro

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on February 12, 2019

My Valentine’s Day salad celebrates long-lost love and bittersweet memories with a riotous mix of tangy blood oranges, peppery arugula, red onion, and spicy radishes. Never has bitterness tasted so good! © 2019 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 30m
Total Time: 30m

Serves: 2
Category: Antipasti - Appetizers, Appetizers, Contorno - Side Dishes, Fruit, Recipes, Salads - Insalate, Verdure - Vegetables

Ingredients

2 blood oranges
1 red endive
3 ounces/85g arugula leaves (or mixture with other bitter lettuces), washed and dried
1/4 small red onion, peeled
4 radishes, washed and trimmed (I used breakfast and watermelon radishes)
1 tablespoon raspberry white balsamic vinegar or white wine vinegar
3 tablespoons good quality extra virgin olive oil, plus more if needed
Kosher or fine sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

Supreme each orange in the following manner: using a sharp paring knife, cut about 3/8-inch off the top and bottom of each orange, reserving ends. Set an orange with a flat side down on the cutting board. Starting at the top of the orange, position the blade of the knife in between the orange flesh and ring of white pith inside the rind. Slice downward to the base of the orange, curving the knife around the fruit to cleanly cut off the pith/rind in a single vertical strip. Turn the orange slightly and repeat the motion in strips around the fruit until the rind and all white pith is removed. Repeat procedure on other orange.
Cut out the orange segments by slicing in between the thin membrane walls surrounding each one to release the fruit. Alternatively, you can cut the orange in half down the middle then into thin, half-moon slices.
Arrange the orange segments/slices in a single layer on a plate and season lightly with salt to bring out the natural sweetness of the fruit. Scrape orange juice accumulated on the board into a small bowl. Squeeze the juice from the reserved orange rinds into the bowl and set aside.
Trim ½-inch off the stem end of the endive then separate the leaves and place them in a large mixing bowl. Add the arugula (and other lettuces, if using) to the bowl.
Cut the red onion thinly into fine strips. Slice the radishes into very thin rounds using a sharp knife or mandolin. Add the onions and radishes to the lettuce in the bowl.
Make the salad dressing by seasoning the blood orange juice in the small bowl generously with salt and pepper. Add the vinegar and whisk to dissolve salt. Pour in the olive oil in a thin stream while whisking to create a light emulsion. Taste and adjust seasoning if needed.
Sprinkle the ingredients in the salad bowl lightly with salt and pepper and toss together delicately using your hands. Add the orange segments to the bowl then pour the dressing around the edges of the bowl (not on the lettuce). Toss the ingredients together quickly with your hands to lightly coat with dressing. Lift portions of salad out of the bowl and mound on individual plates, arranging oranges and radishes decoratively. Serve immediately.

Ribollita
Tuscan Bread & Vegetable Soup

January 21, 2019 By Deborah Dal Fovo 4 Comments

ribollita with spoon

Brrrr, it’s cold outside. The perfect time to make a big pot of Ribollita, the iconic Florentine soup that appears on every restaurant menu in Tuscany and beyond each winter. In fact, it’s so popular that the entire Tuscan region has adopted it as its own. Ribollita is the queen of la cucina povera Toscana—Tuscan peasant cooking—and much more than a simple soup. By transforming leftover vegetable soup and 2-day old bread into a culinary masterpiece, ribollita has earned a highly revered place in contemporary Italian cuisine. That says a lot for a dish born out of extreme poverty during ancient times when every scrap of bread and vegetable was thrown into the pot out of sheer desperation for sustenance and nourishment. The result is a dense, flavorful vegetable soup reinforced with white beans and bread—a filling, stick-to-your-ribs dish that’s essentially a thick stew. In fact, the true test of a good ribollita is when a spoon inserted into it stands straight up!

bread slices on cutting board

The name ribollita means “reboiled” and comes from the act of cooking a rich vegetable soup then layering it with hardened day-old bread before recooking it again the next day. This way, the bread absorbs any excess broth and puffs up into soft, fluffy clouds of goodness that turn this dish into a more of a porridge or bread pudding than an actual soup. Historically, ribollita was a versatile, homemade miracle pot created by savvy cooks to be consumed over a 3-day period and keep the family fed for multiple meals. The soup was eaten as-is on the first day then allungata or “stretched” with hardened, day-old bread and reboiled on the second day with any remaining ribollita reheated again on the third day. If necessity is the mother of invention, ribollita takes the grand prize for the most ingenious way to repurpose leftover bread and feed a family on a shoestring.

ribollita vegetables on tray

Ribollita is timely now because its star ingredient, lacinato kale, is readily available during fall and winter months. Also known as Tuscan kale or black cabbage, lacinato is an ancient variety of Italian winter greens from the brassica family whose rugged, heavily crinkled leaves of blue-green to almost black color (hence the Italian name cavolo nero) inspired its common name of Dinosaur or Dino kale. By any name, lacinato kale is a true superfood and powerhouse of vitamins (especially A, C, K), minerals, fiber with excellent health benefits. Its peppery flavor is the perfect foil for creamy cannellini beans that are the other key ingredient (beside bread) in this hearty, nourishing dish. Other winter vegetables like cabbage, red onions, carrots, celery, Swiss chard, and potatoes do their part to create a colorful, tasty base to enhance with kale, beans, and bread. The soup gets its luxurious creaminess from white cannellini beans pureed in their cooking water that create the “broth” in this soup. These dried beans are soaked in water overnight then cooked every-so-slowly so the skins don’t toughen. In a pinch, good quality canned or jarred cannellini can be substituted, but do not compare to freshly cooked beans in their garlic and sage infused cooking water that adds incredible taste and consistency to the soup.

The bread traditionally used in ribollita is a Tuscan saltless loaf that’s hard to find outside Tuscany. I use homemade natural leaven sourdough bread, but an artisan rustic Italian loaf like Pugliese or ciabatta will do. It’s worthwhile to plan ahead and slice the bread then let it dry out on a baking sheet for a couple of days in advance, but if that’s not an option then drying it in a moderate oven works fine. Once the vegetable soup is made (it can be done a day or two prior), ribollita comes together quickly and easily. The soup is layered with bread slices in a tall casserole, Dutch oven or pot and let rest before popping into the oven to reheat. While you can “reboil” ribollita in a pot on the stove, I like the soft, souffle-like consistency that baking produces. Once hot and bubbly, ribollita is served heaped into soup bowls and drizzled lavishly with fruity extra virgin olive oil.

ribollita in bowl

As my ribollita cooks, the house is filled with a familiar, homey fragrance that takes me back to winters in Tuscany, sitting in front of the blazing stone fireplace waiting for supper to be ready. Aside from being suddenly famished, I feel a flush of abundance in anticipation of eating a big bowl of delicious, nutritious ribollita that deftly defies its poor peasant origins.

>>Watch me make Ribollita step-by-step on this TV appearance below:

TUSCAN BREAD AND VEGETABLE SOUP
Ribollita

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on January 21, 2019

Ribollita is an icon of Tuscan peasant cooking and a culinary masterpiece that transforms day-old bread and repurposed vegetable soup into a hearty, flavorful, and nourishing dish. © 2019 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 30m
Cook Time: 3h
Total Time: 3h 30m

Serves: 8
Category: First Courses - Primi Piatti, Recipes, Verdure - Vegetables, Zuppa - Soup

Ingredients

14 ounces/400g dried cannellini beans, about 2 heaping cups (4 cups canned beans can be substituted)
2 garlic cloves, peeled
2 sprigs fresh sage
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
½ cup extra virgin olive oil
2 red onions, peeled and chopped into small dice, about 2 cups (yellow onions may be substituted)
1 leek (white part only), thinly sliced and rinsed
2 carrots, peeled and cut into ½-inch dice
2 celery stalks, trimmed and cut into ½-inch dice
2 cloves garlic, crushed lightly and peeled
Few sprigs of fresh thyme
4 ripe plum tomatoes, peeled, seeded and chopped (canned plum tomatoes can be substituted)
1 pound/455g lacinato kale (Tuscan black kale/dinosaur kale), washed, stemmed, and leaves cut into ½-inch strips (about 8 cups)
½ pound/225g Savoy cabbage, washed and shredded into ¼-inch strips (about 4 cups)
1 bunch Swiss chard weighing about ½ pound, washed, stemmed, and leaves only cut into ½-inch strips (about 4 cups)
2 Yukon gold potatoes, peeled and cut into dice
One pound/453g Tuscan or rustic bread, cut into ½-inch thick slices and air dried for 2 days until hard (fresh bread slices can be toasted in 350°F/180°C oven)
¼ red onion, finely sliced or chopped to garnish
Good quality Tuscan extra virgin olive oil to garnish
Kosher or sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

Sort through the dried beans and discard any small stones. Place the beans in a large bowl and cover with twice the volume of cold water. Let soak for 12 hours or overnight.
Drain the beans then place them in a heavy pot (preferably made of glazed earthenware) with 2½ quarts/2½ liters cold water, 2 garlic cloves, sage and 2 tablespoons olive oil. Place over medium heat, covered, and bring to a simmer, occasionally skimming off any foam that forms on the surface. Reduce heat to low and cook, with lid slightly askew, at a slow simmer for about 50 minutes or until beans are tender. Add 2 teaspoons salt and cook for another 10 minutes until beans are soft but not mushy. Scoop half the beans out of the pot using a slotted spoon and reserve. Remove the garlic and sage then puree the remaining beans and their cooking liquid through a food mill or using an emersion blender or food processor. If using canned beans, reserve 2 cups whole beans and heat the remaining beans with packing liquid plus 6 cups water until warm. Puree the beans and liquid as directed above then set aside until needed.
Heat 1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil in a large, heavy bottomed pot. Add the onions and leeks, season lightly with salt, and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Stir in the carrots and celery and cook for a few more minutes. Add the garlic, thyme, and chopped tomatoes and cook for about 5 minutes. Add the lacinato kale in increments, stirring and cooking until leaves wilt down enough to make room for more. Add the cabbage, chard and potatoes to the pot then season the vegetables generously with salt and pepper, stirring to incorporate. Cook the vegetables for 10 minutes until softened and reduced down in volume, then pour in the pureed beans and their liquid plus enough hot water to cover the vegetables. Bring the soup to a boil then reduce the heat to low and cook at a gentle simmer, partially covered, for about one hour until vegetables are soft, stirring occasionally and adding more water if needed. The soup should be fairly thick with a small amount of liquid. Stir the whole beans into the soup during the last 5 minutes of cooking. Remove soup from heat and let cool until just warm then proceed to the next step or refrigerate to continue recipe the next day.
In the bottom of a 3-quart dutch oven or high-sided baking/souffle dish (or two 1.5-quart), spread a 1-inch thick layer of vegetable soup. Arrange one-third of the bread slices to fit over the soup then cover the bread with another layer of soup. Repeat the layers ending with a thick layer of soup (about 3 layers of bread). Let stand for a couple of hours or cover and refrigerate overnight.
The ribollita can now be reheated in one of two ways: in the oven or on the stovetop (I prefer the oven method since it doesn't require attention or stirring). If using the baking method, preheat the oven to 400°F/200°C about one hour before serving time. Drizzle the surface of the ribollita with extra virgin olive oil then sprinkle with sliced red onion and freshly ground black pepper. Bake in center of hot oven for 30 minutes until bubbly and a light crust forms on the surface. Alternately, the soup can be re-boiled (ribollita) over medium-low heat on the stove until heated through.
Serve large ladlefuls of ribollita in soup bowls with generous pours of fruity extra virgin olive oil swirled over top. Leftovers can be refrigerated and reheated up to 3 days later.

Valentine’s Day Dinner:
Beet Pasta Ravioli with Ricotta and Radicchio Filling

February 13, 2017 By Deborah Dal Fovo Leave a Comment

How do I love thee? Let me count the ravioli. Seriously, there’s no better way to say “I love you” than with a plate of handmade pasta lovingly crafted and offered as a token of your affection. After all, you put a little bit of yourself into every bite by kneading, rolling and shaping the pasta even before it is cooked. The act in itself is a delicious labor of love. Then why not take it to the next level with colored pasta and make a real statement? Those were my thoughts last year when I created these Beet Pasta Ravioli with Ricotta and Radicchio Filling for Valentine’s Day. Yes, I make other colored pasta, like these green tagliatelle colored with spinach that I did here. But these Valentine’s ravioli were begging to be red—really, really red—the color of love, of passion, of beets. In fact, for these ravioli the pasta dough is stained deep magenta-red with beets before it lovingly envelopes a creamy ricotta and radicchio filling to form pretty half-moon shaped ravioli. They look stunning on the plate, dressed in a rosy sauce of beet-tinted melted butter and scattered with toasted pine nuts and delicate wisps of shaved Parmigiano. A romantic meal never looked or tasted so good!

It took a little love on my part to get this beet pasta recipe the way I wanted it. You see, beets stain but they also bleed. That means when red pasta cooks, the color can leach into the boiling water and fade —taking the pasta from bright magenta to drab pink. But that wasn’t good enough for me and I was determined to get an intense red pasta that held up to cooking. And I did…here’s how. I use more beets than most but it works because of a few tricks I’ll share with you. First, I roast the beets so they don’t get watery like they can if you boil them. Then I puree the beets using a fine blade in my food mill, but you can also process in a food processor. Next—and most importantly—I squeeze all the liquid out of the beet puree (saving it for the sauce) in a cotton napkin I don’t mind staining until it’s dry like play dough. This creates a concentrated pigmentation agent to add to the egg before incorporating flour, so less flour is needed and the pasta dough is darker. After kneading the dough until smooth and soft, it is dark magenta and almost purplish in color. But don’t worry because some of the color will fade during boiling and the cooked ravioli will be a lovely shade of red.

You should know that while red beets color pasta dough beautifully, they can stain your hands and counter tops if you’re not careful. To avoid this, I work on washable cutting boards and wear disposable latex gloves when making the pasta dough. Once the dough is made, roll it thin—either with a rolling pin or using a pasta machine. Cut the pasta sheet into circles, dab each with a spoonful of ricotta and radicchio filling, then fold and seal the edges well to form half moon shaped ravioli. This filling comes together quickly with a mixture of ricotta cheese, egg, Parmigiano and caramelized radicchio. Radicchio is red chicory with a bittersweet peppery flavor that adds spice to the mild ricotta and compliments the beet infused pasta. I like to use Treviso radicchio, but if you can’t find it, the Chioggia variety works well too.

Once the ravioli are made the work is done leaving plenty of time to get dressed and light the candles on the table. Then, just a few minutes before serving, the pasta cooks while a quick yet sumptuous sauce is made from reserved beet juice and butter to toss the ravioli in and coat them with even more color and flavor. Arranged on plates with a smattering of toasted pine nuts and Parmigiano shavings over top, they make quite an entrance and are sure to set the mood for your romantic meal. Happy Valentine’s Day…or should I say…beet mine?

BEET PASTA RAVIOLI WITH RICOTTA & RADICCHIO FILLING
Ravioli di Barbabietola con Ricotta e Radicchio

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on February 8, 2017

The pasta for these half-moon shaped ravioli is tinted deep magenta red by pureed beets then filled with creamy ricotta and caramelized radicchio. They look stunning arranged on a plate dressed in rosy beet-infused melted butter and scattered with toasted pine nuts and Parmigiano shavings. © 2016 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 2h
Cook Time: 10m

Yield: 24 ravioli
Category: First Courses - Primi Piatti, Pasta, Recipes

Ingredients

Beet Pasta Dough:

6 ounces /160g red beets, trimmed
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 cup/120g all-purpose flour, plus more for work surface
1 large egg yolk, lightly beaten
Kosher or fine sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Ravioli Filling:

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon/14g unsalted butter
½ small shallot, finely minced (2 tablespoons)
2 ½ ounces/70g radicchio (preferably Treviso variety), cut into thin strips and rinsed
4 ounces/113g ricotta cheese
1 large egg yolk
2 tablespoons/6g freshly grated Grana Padano or Parmigiano Reggiano
Kosher or sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Sauce:

1/4 cup reserved beet juice (see instructions)
8 tablespoons/113g unsalted butter, cut into dice
2 tablespoons pine nuts, lightly toasted
2 tablespoons Shaved Grana Padano or Parmigiano Reggiano

Instructions

Preheat oven to 375F/190C degrees.
NOTE: When working with red beets, wear disposable latex gloves and use cutting boards and glass bowls to avoid staining skin and work surfaces.
Wash the beets well under cold water then place in center of a sheet of aluminum foil. Drizzle with olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Wrap the foil over the beets and crimp ends together to form a leak-proof packet then set on a baking sheet. Bake for 45 to 55 minutes until beets are tender when pierced with the point of a knife then remove from oven and cool. Peel the beets, cut into pieces and puree through a food mill or in a food processor until smooth. Place the beet pulp in the center of a clean, cotton napkin (that you don’t mind staining) and squeeze out all excess liquid into a bowl (about ¼ cup) until the pulp is dry like play dough. Set beet juice aside for later use.
To make pasta dough, mound the flour on a cutting board (or in bowl) and form a well in the center. Place the egg yolk, beet pulp and 1/4 teaspoon salt in the well and beat with a fork, gradually dragging in the flour, a little at a time, until a crumbly mass forms. Gather the dough into a ball with your hands and knead on a floured board for 6 to 8 minutes until soft and smooth, adding more flour as needed if sticky. Form dough into a ball then wrap tightly in plastic wrap and set aside to rest.
For the filling, place olive oil, butter, and shallots with 1 tablespoon water in a skillet over medium heat. Sprinkle lightly with salt and cook until shallots are soft and moisture has evaporated, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the radicchio, season with salt and pepper and cook until wilted and lightly caramelized, stirring, about 4 minutes. Remove from heat and cool.
Mix the ricotta, egg yolk and grated cheese together in a bowl until smooth then add the radicchio and stir to combine. Taste and adjust seasoning if needed.
Divide the pasta dough into quarters and work with one piece at a time (keeping the rest wrapped in plastic until needed). Using a pasta machine or rolling pin on floured surface, roll the dough into a thin sheet about 1mm thick (you should see your hand in transparency through the pasta). If using a pasta machine, pass the dough repeatedly through the rollers increasing the setting each time to reduce roller thickness and thin dough.
Lay the pasta sheet on a lightly floured board and cut six 3-inch circles using a floured pasta cutter or wine glass. Place a teaspoon of filling in the center of each circle then fold one side over the filling to form a half-moon shape. Press the dough around the filling with your fingers to expel air pockets and seal edges. If the dough doesn't stick together, brush it very lightly with water before sealing. If desired, use a zig-zagged pasta cutter to make a decorative edge. Arrange the ravioli in a single layer, without touching, on a floured parchment-lined baking sheet and repeat process with remaining dough and filling. (Ravioli can be refrigerated, uncovered, for a few hours.)
Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat then add a generous handful of kosher or sea salt. When the water returns to a boil, add the ravioli and stir gently to prevent sticking. Cook the ravioli until ‘al dente’, tender yet firm to bite, 2 to 3 minutes.
While the ravioli cook, boil the reserved beet juice in a large skillet over medium-high heat until thick. Add the butter and melt, stirring to create a smooth sauce. Scoop the ravioli from water using a slotted spoon and place in the sauce. Toss ravioli in the sauce over heat for less than a minute until well coated, adding a little pasta cooking water if needed.
Arrange six ravioli on each plate and drizzle with sauce. Scatter toasted pine nuts over top and sprinkle with cheese shavings. Serve immediately.

Patience and persimmons
Persimmon and Pecan Bread

January 27, 2017 By Deborah Dal Fovo Leave a Comment

It’s often said that patience is a virtue and good things come to those who wait. This is especially true when it comes to Hachiya persimmons, an obscure and misunderstood winter fruit known as kaki to the Japanese and cachi to Italians. These persimmons are often confused with the flatter Fuyu variety that is eaten firm like an apple early in the season. But Hachiya persimmons—whose inviting shiny orange, pointed forms make them tempting to enjoy when they are young—must mature and soften for weeks on end before they are edible. It makes January the perfect month to make this Persimmon and Pecan Bread when fruit that has been slowly ripening on the window sill is very soft and ready for use. Hachiya persimmon’s delicate sweetness and alluring fragrance give this simple bread an air of aristocracy that makes it ideal for afternoon tea or a luxurious breakfast in bed…and well worth waiting for.

A seasonal fruit with oriental origins, Hachiya persimmons first appear on leafy trees in late autumn. But their beauty is not fully evident until winter when the tree sheds its leaves to reveal bare branches hung with brightly colored, heart-shaped fruit—making it look like a timely Charlie Brown Christmas tree strung with shiny ornaments. The fruit is firm and immature at this point and must ripen further to allow harsh tannins to mellow and sweetness to develop. Take them home and place on your counter or window sill and watch the change that occurs as they mature. I fill an antique wooden bowl with vibrant orange persimmons and use as a cheerful decorative item in my home while they ripen.

As they ripen, persimmons slowly soften and become darker in color until finally—after two to four weeks—they are mature enough to eat or cook with. You can see the change happening in stages as they go from hard, yellow-orange pointed fruit to red-orange slouchy orbs with loose, wrinkled skin. At the perfect point of ripeness, they look like water balloons—heavy, jiggly and ready to burst. Don’t be tempted to eat them before this time or you’ll experience a very unpleasant astringent aftertaste in your mouth. To speed up the ripening process, some people freeze partially ripe persimmons for 24 hours then thaw before cooking. In a pinch, this can help soften the fruit and reduce tannins, but they won’t be as sweet or mellow as naturally ripened persimmons. Be patient with persimmons and you will be rewarded!

Food memories are precious things and I still recall the first time I tasted a persimmon. It was at Torre di Pisa restaurant in Milan, where I was dining with my then-boyfriend in the dead of winter. “I took the liberty of ordering you dessert since they have a very special fruit that is only available for a very short time”, said Maurizio as the waiter slid a plate in front of me. Expecting to see colorful tropical fruit, I looked down to find a wrinkly, burnt-orange blob on my plate that looked less than appealing. Slightly puzzled I asked, “What do I do with it?” Maurizio laughed, “Make a cross cut in the center and open it like a flower, then eat the inside with a spoon…like pudding.” I followed instructions and slid my knife through the paper-thin skin then repeated the motion crosswise. The persimmon fell open like four petals in a sensual display of glistening, jelly-like pulp that beckoned a taste. I dipped my spoon in and scooped some out. It was shiny and syrupy—more like soft jelly than raw fruit—and very much what in Italy we call dolci da cucchiaio or spoon desserts like creme caramel and panna cotta. When I lifted the spoon to my mouth, a delicate floral scent filled my senses like fine perfume. The taste in my mouth was…well, luscious. Silky and sweet with a hypnotic exotic fruit flavor and lingering vanilla finish. I was mesmerized and fell in love immediately (with the persimmon, not with Maurizio).

Over the years, I continued my love affair with persimmons and searched them out each winter at my neighborhood fruttivendoli in Milan. But it was only after moving to California—and once I was teaching Italian cooking and developing my own recipes—that I became intrigued with the idea of a persimmon bread. I began experimenting to get the right balance of sweetness, wet to dry ingredients, and leavening to make a moist yet light fruit bread that showcased persimmon’s delicate flavor and fragrance. The decision to add pecans, with their subtle buttery nuttiness, was the natural choice to quietly complement persimmon’s ethereal qualities without overpowering them.

The batter for Persimmon and Pecan Bread is simple and easy to prepare. Cut open ripe persimmons and scoop out the pudding-like pulp then strain it through a sieve so it’s silky smooth and free of unwanted seeds or fibers. Measure out the amount that you need for the recipe but don’t waste any leftover puree! Persimmon puree freezes well and keeps for up to 6 months. Just thaw and use like fresh to make persimmon and pecan bread well into the spring.

The secret to a light, airy bread is to mix the dry ingredients together first then add them to the wet ingredients with a few quick folding motions until just combined. Don’t overwork the batter or the baked bread will be heavy and rubbery. Then, stir in the toasted pecans and pour the thick batter into a loaf pan. Bake until you can smell a sweet, flowery fragrance wafting out of your oven and the bread is golden orangey-brown on top and set in the center.

Some things are well worth waiting for and perfectly ripened Hachiya persimmons are one of those. Now, I look forward to winter just to patiently watch these gorgeous persimmons ripen to perfection so I can enjoy this Persimmon and Pecan Bread. I hope you will too!

PERSIMMON AND PECAN BREAD
Plumcake di Cachi

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on January 19, 2017

This persimmon and pecan bread has a delicate, exotic sweetness and fragrance that is a pure joy during grey winter months. Use Hachiya persimmons that are fully ripened and super soft like squishy water balloons to ensure that the pulp inside is sweet and astringent tannins have mellowed. © 2017 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 30m
Cook Time: 55m

Yield: Makes one 9-inch/23cm loaf
Category: Breads, Desserts - Dolci, Fruit Desserts, Recipes

Ingredients

1 cup/100g raw pecans
1 pound/454g very soft, ripe Hachiya persimmons (about 2 or 3), or 1 cup of strained pulp
2 cups/240g unbleached all-purpose flour
¾ cup/150g granulated sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ cup/113g unsalted butter, melted and cooled to room temperature
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

Instructions

Preheat oven to 325°F/165°C and place oven rack in the middle position. Butter and flour the inside of a 9-inch/23cm loaf pan.
Spread the pecans in a single layer on a baking sheet and place in hot oven for 5 to 7 minutes or until lightly toasted. Remove from oven and cool completely then run a knife through the nuts once or twice to chop coarsely.
Place the persimmons stem side down on a cutting board and make a cross cut in the center of each down to the stem. Open the fruit like a flower and scoop out the pulp with a spoon, scraping it off the skin and eliminating any black seeds and white fibers. Transfer the persimmon pulp to a mesh sieve set over a bowl then press it through the sieve with the back of a spoon. Scrape bottom of the sieve to capture all strained pulp and measure to obtain about 1 cup. Alternately, you can puree the pulp until smooth in a food processor. Excess persimmon puree can be frozen for future use.
In a medium bowl whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon.
Place the melted butter, eggs and vanilla in a large mixing bowl and beat with an electric mixer until creamy. Add the persimmon pulp and mix until well combined.
Using a spatula, fold the dry ingredients into wet ingredients until just combined and batter is smooth. Do not over mix the batter or the bread will have a rubbery consistency. Add the pecans and fold in until well distributed.
Pour batter into the prepared pan then bake until golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 55 to 60 minutes. If the bread browns too quickly before the inside is cooked, place an aluminum foil sheet over top to prevent burning.
Remove from oven and place on a wire rack to cool for 10 minutes then remove bread from pan and cool. Serve bread warm or at room temperature cut into thin or thick slices.
Note: Persimmon bread can be stored, tightly wrapped. at room temperature for about a week and freezes well.

Sweet Italian Christmas:
Panettone Filled with Whipped Cream, Chocolate and Hazelnuts

December 20, 2016 By Deborah Dal Fovo 4 Comments

Most Italians would agree with me when I say that it wouldn’t be Christmas without Panettone. This golden dome-shaped sweet bread studded with raisins, candied orange peel and citron, that traditionally makes its appearance for Christmas and New Year, is a must to celebrate the holidays in Italy. You see them everywhere from artisan bakery windows to specialty stores and supermarkets, wrapped in colorful, decorative boxes that make them look like Christmas gifts perfect to bestow on family and friends for the holidays. In Italy, we often find ourselves with too many panettoni and don’t quite know what to do with them. I created this recipe for Panettone filled with Whipped Cream, Chocolate and Hazelnuts as a way to dress up the cake-like bread and make it even more festive. Wrapped with a shiny ribbon and sliced at the table to reveal the surprise filling inside, it makes an elegant and joyous dessert for holiday dinners.

Panettone is a sweet, yeasted bread whose elaboration is considered a true accomplishment in the pastry world. Its rich, buttery dough somehow defies gravity as it rises three times in thirty-plus hours to form a light and airy texture scented by the sweet raisins and candied citrus fruits that dot its ethereal crumb. Baked in a decorative paper mold until deep burnished brown then hung upside down to maintain its distinctive rounded dome shape and impressive height, panettone is a holiday ritual and symbol of celebration in Italy. Invented in 15th century Milan, its legend has a few different versions and all of them reflect the labor of love that panettone is to prepare. The classic version containing raisins, candied orange peel, and citron is the original Panettone Milanese, and an obligatory slice is enjoyed as is or embellished with a dollop of mascarpone cream, crema di mascarpone, as a traditional holiday dessert or snack. While there are many commercial brands available, the best panettoni are made by the specialty bakeries of Milan. Since I’m not in Milan this Christmas, I enlisted the help of my Italian baker friend Gary Rulli for this post. Gary kindly offered me the authentic artisan panettoni Milanesi he makes at his Italian caffe’ and bakery, Emporio Rulli in Larkspur, California to use for my dessert.

While this dessert is seemingly complex, it actually takes very little time and effort since the panettone is store bought. And that’s a very good thing during the holidays when time is precious. The first step to making it is to slice the dome top off the panettone and hollow out the cylindrical bread loaf to make room for the filling. I cut a circular shape in the panettone, leaving a sturdy bread border around the edges and along the bottom, then pull out the center crumb with my fingers to create the empty cavity where the filling will go. To add even more lovely citrus flavor to the dessert, I sprinkle the extracted crumb with Grand Marnier orange liqueur and let it soak in while the other ingredients for the filling are prepared.

First, I toast hazelnuts in the oven and tuck them into a kitchen towel to steam before rubbing vigorously in the cloth to remove bitter skins before chopping. Then, I shave a dark chocolate bar (70% cacao preferred) into shards using the blade of my chef’s knife. Here, I also chopped some homemade candied orange peel into tiny dice to add more citrus flavor. Lastly, heavy cream is lightly sweetened with confectioners sugar and whipped until thick and billowy before the chopped ingredients and liqueur baptized panettone pieces are carefully folded in.

The filling is spooned into the empty hollow of the panettone and its dome bread lid placed on top before it goes into the refrigerator to set for a couple of hours. And that’s it! Dessert is made with plenty of time to spare for last minute shopping or gift wrapping. Before serving the panettone, I dust the top with a generous snowfall of powdered sugar and garnish with extra chocolate curls shaved from the bar. Then I tie a beautiful gold ribbon around the bread and serve it on a gilt platter.

At the table (once the oohs and aahs have subsided), I remove the ribbon and cut the panettone into wedge-shaped slices, complete with decorative paper border, and serve it with glasses of chilled Moscato d’Asti. My Panettone filled with Whipped Cream, Chocolate and Hazelnuts is a festive, delicious and, above all, easy to prepare dessert that makes holiday entertaining effortless and enjoyable. Buon Natale e Felice Anno Nuovo a tutti! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all!

PANETTONE FILLED WITH WHIPPED CREAM, CHOCOLATE & HAZELNUTS
Panettone Farcito

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on December 20, 2016

Traditional Italian Christmas sweet bread is made even more festive with a filling of whipped cream, chocolate shavings, chopped hazelnuts and candied orange peel. © 2016 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 40m

Serves: 12
Category: Desserts - Dolci, Recipes

Ingredients

Panettone Milanese weighing 2¼ pounds/1 kilo
2 cups /500ml heavy whipping cream, cold
4 tablespoons /25g confectioners sugar, plus more to garnish
2 to 3 tablespoons Grand Marnier (rum or cognac can be substituted)
1 3/4 ounces /50g dark chocolate, shaved or chopped into small pieces, plus more to garnish
½ cup hazelnuts (almonds can be substituted)
1/4 cup candied orange peel, cut into small dice (optional)

Instructions

Preheat oven to 350°F/180C°. Spread the hazelnuts on a baking sheet and place in center of hot oven for 5 to 7 minutes, shaking the pan occasionally. Remove from oven then place the hot nuts in the center of a clean kitchen towel. Gather the edges of the towel together to form a pouch then let the nuts steam and cool for 5 minutes. Pick up the pouch by the gathered towel ends and rub the hazelnuts against each other in the towel with your other hand to remove papery skins. Chop the nuts roughly and set aside. (If using almonds just toast and chop without removing skins).
Cut the rounded dome top off the panettone in one clean horizontal slice about 1-1/4 inches in thickness, and set aside.
Using a long, thin knife held vertically, cut out the center of the panettone leaving a 1-inch border around sides and a 1½ inches on the bottom, without perforating the bottom or sides of the bread. Hollow out the bread crumb from the center of the panettone then tear it into pieces and place in a bowl. Sprinkle the panettone crumb pieces with Grand Marnier and toss to coat.
Using an electric mixer, whip the cream until thickened. Add the confectioners sugar and beat for another minute until light and fluffy but not dry.
Fold the torn panettone pieces, chocolate, hazelnuts, and candied orange peel (if using) into the whipped cream. Fill the hollow of the panettone with the whipped cream mixture, pressing down slightly. Replace the bread dome top on the panettone and refrigerate for 2 to 3 hours.
Before serving, dust the top of the panettone with powdered sugar and decorate with chocolate shavings. Place on a round platter and wrap with a festive ribbon if desired. Serve cut into wedges using a serrated knife, taking care to cut through the paper wrapped base cleanly so each slice has a decorative border.
Serve on individual dessert plates accompanied by a glass of moscato d'Asti or other dessert wine or liqueur.

Tuscany in California: Schiacciata con l’uva
Tuscan Grape Focaccia

November 5, 2016 By Deborah Dal Fovo Leave a Comment

When I lived in Tuscany, autumn’s arrival each year was heralded by a sudden flurry of activity in the countryside. The spell of summer’s lazy lull was broken by a revived energy as locals awakened from their sleepy trance eager to return to normal routine. One of the first signs of this risveglio was the annual wine harvest called la vendemmia. As if beckoned by the waving of a flag at the starting line, workers suddenly appeared in the lush yet rarely visited vineyards carpeting the hillside below my home to pick perfectly ripened clusters of grapes hanging on row after row of endless vines. There was palpable excitement in the air since it meant that those grapes would soon become our cherished local wine. This joyous time of vendemmia is welcomed each year in Tuscany like a sacred ritual with celebrations and symbolic dishes made only during the grape harvest. The most beloved is Schiacciata con l’uva, a Tuscan grape focaccia whose annual presence in bakery windows signals the jubilant start to a month long harvest season. The word “schiacciata” (pronounced ski-ah-chah-tah) means pressed or flattened and is the Tuscan name for savory flatbread otherwise known as focaccia in other parts of Italy. This sweet version, made of bread dough filled inside and out with sugar and juicy grapes that dot its golden surface like precious jewels, is a special treat to look forward to every year as much as the harvest itself.

This year, instead of Tuscany, I celebrated the wine harvest in Northern California. Like Italy, California is blessed with many wonderful wine producing areas and luscious grapes are in abundance. I take full advantage of these grapes to honor tradition by making this Tuscan grape focaccia and teaching it to my cooking students each year. Last month, I was invited to the “wine crush” in beautiful Amador County where my friend Paul has family owned vineyards that grow many different grape varietals to produce their excellent Sobon wines. There were wines to taste and bins of freshly picked grapes to admire. I even got to do some grape stomping and channel my inner Lucille Ball! But the best part of the weekend was receiving a bag full of grapes to use for my annual Tuscan grape focaccia.

It felt like Christmas as I opened the bag and pulled out gorgeous bunches of grapes: tightly packed clusters of blue-black Petit Sirah, dangly Cabernet Sauvignon the color of Paul Newman’s eyes, huge purple Black Muscat and delicate, fragrant Orange Muscat. There were even some little clusters of raisins—grapes that had been naturally dried by the sun—to snack on while I reveled in my fortune. You see, using good grapes is important for this bread and in Tuscany those are rigorously freshly picked red wine grapes—with their seeds—to give this bread its intense berry flavor and distinctive crunchy texture. While schiacciata con l’uva was traditionally made with uva canaiola, a grape previously used in Chianti wine, it’s now being replaced with sweet uva fragola or strawberry grapes, known as Concord in the U.S. For my sweet focaccia, I chose the Petit Sirah grapes from my stash that were so small and round they looked like blueberries.

Tuscan grape focaccia is a rustic snack traditionally made during wine harvest for farmer feasts called sagre contadine and the simplicity of its ingredients bear witness to modest origins: bread dough, olive oil, sugar and red wine grapes (uva nera). The yeasted bread dough recipe used for savory focaccia is enhanced with sugar and rosemary infused olive oil then let rise for an hour or so. It can be made the night before and refrigerated, which also improves the flavor and texture. Once the bread dough is ready, assembly is easy. The dough is divided and flattened or “schiacciata” (hence the name) into a baking pan like a pizza base, scattered with grapes and sugar then covered by another layer of dough and sealed around the edges.

A second smattering of grapes and generous sprinkling of sugar covers the top layer of dough, then it’s drizzled with melted honey and olive oil and let proof while the oven heats. During proofing, the dough rises again, puffing up slightly so the grapes can be poked into the soft surface and create the dimpled effect so emblematic of focaccia. Then into a hot oven it goes where the bread crisps on the outside and the grapes and sugar melt into a jammy center on the inside that fills the focaccia with intense sweetness and flavor.

The result is a glorious flatbread crowned with soft, shiny grapes that adorn its golden surface like precious jewels. Once cool, (the sugary fruit center is molten!) the focaccia is cut into wedges or squares that show off its gooey filling and served as an afternoon snack or dessert. When biting into a slice, the crisp crust gives way to a chewy bread crumb laced with fruit preserves and punctuated by the surprise of grape seeds that give this bread its distinctive crunch. Tuscan grape focaccia epitomizes the simple pleasures in life and celebrates wine harvest in a uniquely delicious way. So, even if you didn’t go to Tuscany for the vendemmia, find some concord grapes at your local market and enjoy this special treat!

TUSCAN GRAPE FOCACCIA
Schiacciata con l’uva

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on November 4, 2016

Schiacciata con l’uva is a sweet focaccia filled with grapes whose anual appearance in bakery windows signals the joyous start to Tuscany’s autumn wine harvest. It’s a simple treat made from layers of bread dough stuffed and topped with juicy wine grapes and sugar that, when baked, become a jammy filling with the surprise crunch of grape seeds. © 2016 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 2h 30m
Cook Time: 30m
Total Time: 3h

Yield: Two 12-inch rounds or one 13 x 18 sheet pan
Category: Breads, Fruit, Fruit Desserts, Recipes

Ingredients

Bread dough:

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
2 sprigs of fresh rosemary
1½ cups/355ml warm water (100°F/40°C)
1/4 ounce/7g packet dry active yeast (2 1/4 teaspoons)
1 tablespoon honey
1 pound/454g unbleached, all-purpose or 00 flour (about 4½ cups), plus more for board
4 tablespoons/56g granulated sugar
1 teaspoon kosher or sea salt

Filling and topping:

2 pounds/1 kilo Concord or red wine grapes (with seeds), stemmed, washed and dried
¾ cup/170g granulated sugar
2 tablespoons honey, melted
Extra virgin olive oil to drizzle

Instructions

Line two 12-inch round baking pans or one 13 x 18 sheet pan with parchment paper or grease well with olive oil.
Heat the olive oil and rosemary until just warm. Cool to room temperature then remove and discard rosemary. In a small bowl dissolve the yeast and honey in ½ cup of the warm water. Let stand until foamy on surface, 5 to 10 minutes. If mixture does not foam, discard and begin again with fresh yeast.
Sift together flour, sugar and salt in a large bowl or mound on a work surface. Form a well in the center of flour and pour in the yeast mixture, rosemary infused olive oil and 1 cup warm water. Stir with a wooden spoon until ingredients are incorporated and a dough forms. Turn dough onto a floured work surface and knead by hand for 10 minutes until soft, smooth and elastic or in a stand mixer fitted with dough hook for 6 minutes until dough winds up the hook like a cord, adding more flour if too sticky.
Form the dough into a ball and place in a large bowl that has been rubbed with 1 tablespoon olive oil, turning once to coat both sides with oil. Place a damp kitchen towel or plastic wrap over the bowl and set aside in a warm, draft free place to rise until dough doubles in volume, 1 to 2 hours. Dough can be made the night before and refrigerated then brought to room temperature before stretching.
Punch down the dough then turn onto a floured work surface and divide into 2 balls, one slightly larger than the other. Divide the larger ball in half equally then, using floured hands, flatten and stretch each piece into two 12-inch circles about 1/4-inch thick (or stretch the entire ball into a rectangle to fit the sheet pan). You can also use a rolling pin to roll out the dough. Line bottom of baking pans evenly with the stretched dough then distribute 2/3 of the grapes over top in one layer, leaving a 1-inch border around edges. Sprinkle the grapes evenly with a little more than half of the sugar and drizzle lightly with olive oil.
Stretch the remaining dough in the same manner and place over the grapes to form a top layer. Seal the edges well by pinching together then gently press down on the top layer with your hands to crush some of the underlying grapes. Scatter the remaining grapes over top, poking them lightly into dough. Sprinkle with the rest of the sugar then drizzle with melted honey and olive oil. Set aside to proof for 30 minutes before baking.
Preheat oven to 375°F/190°C. Bake in the center of hot oven for 30-35 minutes until golden and fragrant. Cool completely before serving cut into wedges or squares. Best eaten the same day but can be refrigerated and warmed the next day. Freezes well.

An Ode to Pasta:
Straw and Hay Pasta with Truffles

October 16, 2016 By Deborah Dal Fovo Leave a Comment

Today, October 17, is National Pasta Day! To celebrate, I’m honored to partner with premier Italian cookware maker Lagostina for my first ever giveaway. I’m giving a Lagostina Martellata Hammered Copper Pastaiola, like the one you see in this post, to one of lucky readers/followers (a $249.99 retail value!!). Lagostina gave me one of these beautiful pots to make my recipe for pasta day and review it in my post. You can get one of your very own by entering to win my Lagostina giveaway here.

Oh pasta, how I love thee so,
your vision makes my weak heart glow.
Whilst your form hath many shapes,
the simple you is that I crave.
A bit of flour, some egg is all,
for silky ribbons that enthrall.
Once bathed and dressed in buttery bliss,
this feast for me is like a kiss!

It’s no secret that my pasta is my favorite food. I’m a pasta fanatic and love to cook it as much as I enjoy eating it. For me, every day is pasta day. But today, October 17, is officially National Pasta Day so I can openly gush about pasta and share one of my most popular recipes with you in hope you will share in my enthusiasm. When Lagostina asked me to cook up a special pasta with their hammered copper pot for National Pasta Day, I didn’t have to think long about what to make. As a professional Italian chef, I have many delicious pasta dishes in my repertoire. But to appropriately honor the name of pasta, I dedicate this post to handmade fresh egg pasta—known as pasta fresca or pasta all’uovo in Italy—to truly capture the essence of what a delicacy pasta is.

For me, it’s more about the quality of the pasta and less about the sauce. Sure, I love a good Carbonara, but when I talk about pasta…I mean fresh pasta. The kind that’s made from nothing more than flour and eggs then stretched into transparent, paper-thin sheets and cut into long ribbons. To make them even more beautiful, I add cooked spinach to the half the dough and make paglia e fieno pasta that, well, looks like its name: straw and hay. Making fresh egg pasta is easier than you think and gives so much satisfaction. I’ve been making fresh pasta for decades and teach special workshops on it to eager students. When they see how easy it is they are amazed. But when they taste…oooh, that’s a whole other pasta experience. They close their eyes, they smile, they swoon.

All you need to make delicious egg pasta is flour (preferably Italian 00 grade), eggs and some elbow grease. The secret is to incorporate the flour gradually into the eggs so they absorb only what they need without becoming dry and stiff. Then, after about 10 minutes of kneading (here you can recruit a friend, family member or glass of wine to help), you’ll have a soft and elastic ball of dough to roll out and cut. For this, you’ll need a pasta machine with rollers. I use both the hand crank type and a pasta roller attachment on my electric mixer to equal effect.

When rolling out the dough for fine pasta, the thinner the better. This is accomplished by repeatedly passing the dough through the machine rollers while reducing the width of the setting with each pass to gently stretch and thin out the dough. Here, these pasta sheets are rolled to setting number 5 on my Kitchen Aid pasta roller attachment for my electric mixer. Once rolled thin, the pasta sheets need to dry slightly before cutting or else the ribbons will stick together. Lay the sheets flat on a cloth covered table until leathery but still quite pliable then cut into long ribbons using a pasta cutting attachment or sharp knife.

These pasta ribbons can be cooked immediatley or formed into nests to dry and store for later use. Thin, egg pasta ribbons cooks up in as little as one minute when fresh and only 2 to 3 minutes when dried. They make a colorful tangle on your fork and are tender and delicate to the bite. I like to pay them the ultimate compliment by serving simply dressed in a silky sauce of melted butter and pasta cooking water, melted Grana Padano or Parmigiano then scattered with sinful shavings of fragrant, earthy truffles. What more could you ask for?

I am passionate about pasta and Lagostina loves it as much as I do. In fact, they created a special pot to perfectly cook pasta called the Martellata Hammered Copper Pastaiola. Made of high quality materials with elegant design, it not only looks beautiful in your kitchen, but its professional level features make cooking a pleasure. The hammered copper exterior gives it and eye-candy appeal while conducting heat superbly and is lined with sturdy stainless steel for ease of cleaning. A removable strainer insert lets you cook pasta then drain it easily while reserving essential pasta cooking water for adding to the sauce is also handy to make stock or boil vegetables. In fact, I used it to cook the spinach for my green pasta dough. As a professional chef, I also love that Lagostina thought to sandwich an aluminum core in the triple thickeness of the pan for uniform heat distribution and it can go from stove top to oven to table. I can honestly say that the Lagostina Martellat Hammered Copper Pastaiola cooks as good as it looks and was a true pleasure to use. Thank you Lagostina, for making this National Pasta Day more like Christmas by offering a giveaway of your product to one of my lucky readers!

Click here to enter the Lagostina Martellata Pastaiola giveaway!

**In this video I show students how to roll fresh pasta ribbons into nests for drying and storing.

STRAW AND HAY PASTA WITH TRUFFLES
Paglia e Fieno al Tartufo

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on October 16, 2016

Nothing says Autumn like a plate of delicate, handmade egg pasta ribbons dressed oh-so simply in melted butter and a touch of cheese then crowned with a luxurious smattering of fragrant, fresh truffle shavings. Here I use half plain egg dough and half spinach dough for “paglia e fieno”, or straw and hay pasta, to create a colorful surprise. © 2016 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 1h
Cook Time: 10m

Serves: 4
Category: First Courses - Primi Piatti, Pasta, Recipes

Ingredients

For the plain egg pasta dough:

1/2 cup /200g Italian 00 flour (all purpose flour can be substituted)
1/2 teaspoon kosher or fine sea salt
2 large eggs

For the spinach pasta dough:

8 ounces /226g fresh spinach leaves with stems removed, thoroughly washed but not dried
1/2 cup /200g Italian 00 flour (all purpose flour can be substituted)
1/2 teaspoon kosher or fine sea salt, plus more to cook the spinach
1 large egg

To cook and dress the pasta:

Kosher or sea salt for the pasta cooking water
8 tablespoons /113g unsalted butter
1 to 1-1/2 ounces/28-42g fresh truffles, surface cleaned with a soft brush
6 tablespoons freshly grated Grana Padano or Parmigiano Reggiano

Special equipment:

Large clean work surface for kneading dough (unvarnished wood or formica/polyethelene preferable over marble or stone)
Plastic or metal bench or dough scraper
Hand crank or electric pasta roller and cutting machine
Truffle shaver

Instructions

To make the spinach pasta dough:

Bring a large pot of water to boil with 1 tablespoon salt. Add the spinach, cover and cook until tender, 5 to 7 minutes. Remove spinach from water and transfer to an ice water bath for a few minutes to cool and preserve bright green color. Drain then gather spinach into a ball and squeeze to remove excess water. Place ball of spinach in the center of a clean tea towel and wring out all remaining water until dry and putty like. Chop spinach finely.
Mound the flour on a clean, dry work surface and sprinkle with the salt. Form a deep, wide well with a uniform retaining wall in the center of the flour. Break the egg into the well and add the chopped spinach. Use a fork to beat the eggs and spinach while dragging flour, a little at a time, from the inner walls of the mound into the liquid center without letting the walls collapse. The eggs will thicken as they absorb as much flour as needed to form a soft, crumbly mass. Gather the moist dough together with your hands and set aside while you prep the kneading surface.
Use a dough scraper to push the remaining flour to one side then scrape any caked dough from work surface. Sift the flour through a mesh strainer to remove any lumps of dough then place it to the side of the clean surface. Wash and dry your hands to eliminate all traces of flour and dough.
Dust the work surface lightly with some of the sifted flour and place the mass of dough in the center. Knead the dough with your hands while adding as much or little of the reserved flour as the dough will absorb without becoming stiff and dry. When you have a soft dough that is no longer sticky to handle, scrape the board clean and wash and dry your hands again.
Knead the dough by pushing it away from you with the heel of one hand then folding in half from top down and turning 90 degrees. Repeat the motion (pushing, folding and turning) for 8 to 10 minutes until dough is smooth, elastic and compact, adding a slight amount of flour if sticky. Test the dough by pushing a finger into the center of it. When it comes out clean with the slightest whisper of moist feel, the dough ready. If your finger sticks, knead the dough again adding a little more flour. Form into a neat ball, wrap in plastic and let rest for at least 30 minutes before rolling.

To make the plain pasta dough:

Repeat the same procedure for the spinach pasta omitting the spinach and adding the extra egg.

To roll and cut the pasta sheets:

Divide the dough balls into quarters and run each piece through the widest setting of a pasta rolling machine (usually number 1). Fold dough in thirds like a letter and run through the wide setting again. Repeat a few times with all the dough then run each piece through the machine once for each setting, reducing the width of the rollers consecutively until pasta sheets are the desired thickness. You should see your hand in transparency through the thin sheet of pasta. Repeat with all the dough then lay the pasta sheets on a large, clean cloth to dry until slightly leathery yet pliable. Cut sheets into pasta ribbons using the cutting roller of your machine. Cook pasta ribbons as directed below or form into nests and dry completely before storing in airtight containers for up to one month.

To cook and dress the pasta:

Bring 5 to 6 quarts of water to boil in a large pot over high heat. Season the water with a generous handful of salt then return to a vigorous boil. Drop all the pasta ribbons into the water and stir to prevent sticking. Boil the pasta until cooked "al dente", tender yet firm to the bite, 1 to 2 minutes for fresh pasta and 2 to 3 minutes for dried pasta.
While the pasta cooks, melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat for 2 minutes until golden. Add 1/2 cup of pasta cooking water, all of the grated cheese and half of the truffles sliced wafer thin. Stir over low heat until smooth.
Drain the cooked pasta, reserving the water, and place directly in the skillet with the butter. Toss the pasta ribbons in the sauce for 1 minute, lifting and folding to evenly coat and adding more pasta cooking water if needed to maintain a loose, juicy pasta.
Arrange the pasta ribbons in neat nests on warm plates by lifting the strands with a fork and twirling onto the center of the plates. Shave the remaining truffles over the top of each portion and serve immediately.

Sweet September:
Pork Tenderloin with Figs and Balsamic Sauce

September 23, 2016 By Deborah Dal Fovo 2 Comments

Pork Tenderloin with Figs and Balsamic Sauce – Chef Deborah Dal Fovo’s signature dish – theartofitalianliving.com

A funny thing happened last week while I was thinking about writing this recipe post: my friend Dorothy invited me to an impromptu dinner at her house. I jumped in my car and headed down the hill before remembering her mention that the fig tree in her garden was particularly bountiful this year. So I turned around and went home to grab my camera in the off chance there was enough evening light to get photos of the figs for my post. Lucky chance. The tree was overflowing with plump, perfectly ripened blue-black figs and I arrived at the magic hour when lighting was superb. Little did I know, however, that Dorothy was making my signature Pork Tenderloin with Figs and Balsamic Sauce recipe for dinner—the very same dish that I planned to feature in this post! As one of my former cooking students, I taught her to make this dish years ago. Not only did I get beautiful photos and figs for the post but I got to enjoy my dish prepared by Dorothy. How’s that for serendipity?

As much as I love summer and hate to see it go, I have to admit that September is my favorite month of the year. The last, lingering days of the season bring a special sweetness to our table with intense, sun-soaked flavors of late summer fruits like vine-ripened tomatoes, plums, and…figs. I especially love figs and relish the fleeting moment in late September when they are ready to pick and eat as is or with little embellishment. In Italy, I would patiently wait all summer until the figs on my tree wept a little tear drop of nectar, telling me it was time to pluck them off the branch and bite into their sweet, sensual dolcezza. In fact, this ancient fruit tree is analogous with the warm, arid temperatures of the Mediterranean and considered a sacred plant and symbol of abundance. Its large, fan-like leaves trace back to the Bible as the first clothing worn by Adam and Eve and the succulent, meaty figs represent the divine fruit of the Gods.

Figs’ evanescent nature along with their luscious, honey-like sweetness and unique texture makes them a precious culinary delicacy worth savoring in season. The soft, pear shaped fruit has smooth skin that easily opens to reveal a surprisingly colorful and intricate fabric of flesh woven with tiny edible seeds that tickle the palate and heighten pleasure. Depending on variety and location, fresh figs are available for a brief period from July through late September and range in color and subtly of texture. Kadota figs are soft, sweet, and juicy with thick, green skin and purple flesh and best eaten raw with skin peeled for better digestibility. Brown Turkey figs are sweet and very delicate with purple skin and juicy red flesh. Black Mission figs are the sweetest and least delicate with edible, paper-thin bluish black skin and pink flesh. For this dish, I use Mission figs and the ones I picked from Dorothy’s tree were plump and candy sweet yet firm enough to cook with.

But figs are not simply a fruit to eat alone or in a dessert at the end of a meal. Their complex flavor and texture lend to exciting pairings with savory ingredients for unforgettable dishes worthy of an annual pilgrimage. Each year, Italian tables are graced with platters of picture perfect figs and vellum-thin slices of rosy prosciutto in the beloved classic prosciutto e fichi. It’s a combination made in heaven—one might say—and worth waiting until late summer/early autumn for.

I created my Pork Tenderloin with Figs and Balsamic Sauce recipe inspired by this magical marriage where candy-sweet figs compliment the salty earthiness of pork. For my dish, I roast pork tenderloin until golden outside and pink inside then slice it into thick medallions. I make the sauce by sauteeing shallots in the pan used to sear the pork and deglaze it with Dry Marsala wine to capture all the caramelized goodness. An addition of good quality balsamic vinegar from Modena adds a rich, seductive note to the sauce as it reduces down to an amber syrup. Lastly, quartered figs are warmed in the sauce just enough to bring out their natural ripeness and coat them with a nectar-like sheen. When I pour the sauce over the roasted pork, it is bejeweled by the glossy, fig-studded glaze and smothered in sweetness. It’s a sumptuous dish fit for a king in both presentation and complexity of flavors yet surprisingly simple and quick to prepare.

After snapping photos of the tree and figs, I sat down in the garden with Dorothy and David for our obligatory aperitivo before dinner. We raised our glasses to the glowing harvest moon peaking over the horizon, signaling a new season dawning and the close of a season ending with a lingering sweetness that only September can bring.

**In this video I show TV hosts Spencer and Janelle how make my Pork Tenderloin with Figs and Balsamic Sauce.

PORK TENDERLOIN WITH FIGS AND BALSAMIC SAUCE
Filetto di Maiale ai Fichi

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on September 20, 2016

My signature dish is a sumptuous celebration of seasonal flavors that marries savory roasted pork tenderloin medallions with the ripe sweetness of fresh figs in a luxurious balsamic sauce. It’s a dish fit for a king in both presentation and complexity of flavors yet surprisingly simple and quick to prepare. © 2009 Deborah Dal Fovo. All...

Prep Time: 15m
Cook Time: 30m
Total Time: 45m

Serves: 4
Category: Recipes

Ingredients

One pork tenderloin weighing about 1½ pounds/680g
8 ripe yet firm Black Mission figs, wiped clean with damp paper towel and cut lengthwise into quarters
2 tablespoons /30ml extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons /42g unsalted butter, cold
1 shallot, finely minced
1/2 cup /120ml Dry Marsala wine (dry white wine can be substituted)
2 tablespoons /60ml good quality balsamic vinegar
Kosher or sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 375°F/190°C.
Clean the tenderloin by trimming off any excess fat and removing the silver skin (sheath of sinew covering the meat) by sliding a sharp, thin knife blade under the skin and pulling it off in strips. Fold the tail of the tenderloin under if it is long and thin, then tie the pork at 1 1/2-inch intervals with kitchen string to maintain a uniform shape.
Heat the olive oil in a heavy skillet or sauté pan over medium-high heat. Pat the surface of the pork dry with paper towel then season well on all sides with salt and pepper. Place the tenderloin in the hot oil and sear it on all sides until a golden crust has formed, about 5 to 6 minutes.
Transfer the tenderloin to a baking sheet, setting the skillet aside for the sauce. Place the baking sheet in the hot oven and roast the pork until a meat thermometer inserted into the center of its thickest part registers 145°F/63°C, about 10 to 12 minutes. Transfer the pork tenderloin to a carving board, tent loosely with foil and let rest for 10 minutes while you prepare the sauce.
Spoon off any excess fat from the skillet and place over medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons of the butter and the shallots then season lightly with salt. Cook the shallots for 2 to 3 minutes until softened, stirring occasionally. Pour in the Marsala wine and bring to a boil while scraping the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon to release any bits of caramelized residue. Simmer the wine until all alcohol fumes have evaporated, about 1 minute.
Add the balsamic vinegar and reduce the heat to low. Cook gently until thickened to a medium consistency, adding any meat juices that have accumulated on the carving board. Remove from heat and add the remaining 1-tablespoon butter, whisking to obtain a smooth, glaze-like sauce that coats the back of a spoon. Taste the sauce and adjust seasoning if needed.
Add the quartered figs to the pan and gently toss in the sauce until warmed through and glazed.
Remove the string from the tenderloin and slice it crosswise into ½-inch thick medallions. Arrange the pork medallions in a neat row on a serving platter and pour the fig sauce over top.

Savoring Summer
Baked Sunset Peaches with Amaretti Filling

August 30, 2016 By Deborah Dal Fovo Leave a Comment

When I was a little girl, I used to play a secret game at the dinner table. I would identify my favorite food on the plate and save a bit of it off to one side to enjoy last. I wanted the special taste to linger in my mouth—and in my mind—after the meal ended. When dinner was almost over, and I’d patiently finished the rest of the meal, I would close my eyes and savor that last luscious bite of goodness. That’s how I feel about summer. While I never want it to end, there are good reasons to look forward to its final moments. Like peaches and sunsets. They are both worth waiting until the end of summer for.

As summer passes the halfway mark and rounds the corner towards Fall, sunsets grow more vibrant and intense until the evening sky is a pigment-streaked painting of gold, pink and red brushstrokes. That’s what I saw the first time I pulled my Baked Sunset Peaches with Amaretti Filling from the oven—golden spheres rimmed in ruby red and awash in a bright magenta syrup. They looked like a late summer sunset in all its glorious splendor and I named them appropriately on the spot. And, after taking the first bite, I knew there was even more reason to love them.

There’s something magical about the combination of peaches and almonds. Both have unique aromatic qualities that are complimented when they unite and intensified when they are cooked. Here, rosy-skinned yellow peaches are filled with ground almonds, sugar, and peach pulp then baked until spoon soft and golden. The sweet crackle of the caramelized surface gives way to a pudding-like consistency of deeply flavored cooked peach followed by a delicate, chewy filling that leaves a whisper of almond essence on the palate. But—like the soul-satisfying taste of a late summer sunset—one must wait patiently until the latter half of the season to make this dish when the right kind of peach is ripe.

Even though peaches come in hundreds of varieties, they are usually only categorized by color—whether they are yellow or white. But an important distinction between peaches—and one that is essential for this dish—is whether they are clingstone or freestone. Luckily, their names give clues to help understand the difference. Clingstone peaches, that are available in early summer, have flesh that clings to the stone or pit. When the fruit is cut in half, it is very difficult to separate because the flesh stubbornly sticks to the pit. They’re the kind of peach you want to bite into and let the juice drip down your chin, but are not appropriate for cooking because they melt. Contrarily, freestone peaches, that are only available in the latter half of summer, have flesh that separates freely from the stone. They are easy to cut in half and separate with a gentle twist, and the pit comes away effortlessly. Freestone peaches have a compact texture that holds up to heat, making them perfect for baking. Only freestone peaches are appropriate for this dish and worth waiting for until late summer.

I love cooked fruit desserts and this one is my own personal twist on a classic Italian dish that fills peach halves with crushed Amaretti cookies before baking. But instead of using store-bought cookies, which can result in a dry, artificial tasting center, I make my own amaretti cookie filling of ground almonds and sugar infused with peach pulp for extra flavor. When baked inside the peaches, it becomes a delicate yet chewy center that surprises and delights. Before baking, I christen the peaches with white wine or Marsala, which mingles with the rosy color of their skins and creates a gorgeous magenta-tinted syrup in the pan. My dressed up Baked Sunset Peaches with Amaretti Filling are quick and easy to prepare and serve warm or at room temperature with a soft dollop of lightly whipped cream. The sensual, satisfying taste and texture will make them one of your favorite desserts and worth the wait to savor that last, luscious bite of summer.

Watch as I make my Baked Sunset Peaches with Amaretti Filling step-by-step in this TV appearance below:

BAKED SUNSET PEACHES WITH AMARETTI FILLING
Pesche Ripiene al Forno

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on August 30, 2016

I gave my peaches this name because they look like a beautiful summer sunset in all its glory. Yellow peach halves are filled with ground almonds, sugar and peach pulp then baked until golden with ruby red rims. They’re luscious and worth the wait until late summer when freestone peaches are in season. © 2009 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 10m
Cook Time: 30m

Serves: 6
Category: Recipes

Ingredients

3 ripe yet firm yellow Freestone peaches, without soft spots or blemishes
5 tablespoons/60g sugar
6 tablespoons/38g finely ground blanched, peeled almonds (see note below)
2 tablespoons melted butter/28g, plus more to grease baking dish
Dry white wine or Dry Marsala
Soft whipped cream to garnish (optional)

Instructions

Preheat the oven to 350°F/180°C. Generously butter a 9-inch baking dish, preferably made of porcelain or glass.
Wash the peaches under cold, running water and pat dry. Divide each peach in half lengthwise by using a sharp knife to cut along the natural crease of the fruit that runs from the stem dimple then continue around its circumference. Separate the peaches halves by gently twisting apart then remove and discard the pits.
Using a melon ball tool or teaspoon, hollow a round 1-inch cavity from the center of each peach half and scoop out the pulp, reserving it for the filling. Arrange the peach halves with cut side up in the baking dish, placing them close together and leaning against one another so they don't tip during baking.
Chop the reserved peach pulp finely and place in a mixing bowl. Add 4 tablespoons of the sugar, ground almonds, 1 tablespoon of the melted butter, and any peach juices that have accumulated on the cutting board, then mix well to combine.
Fill the hollow of each peach with about 1-tablespoon of the almond filling to form a neat mound about the size of a walnut in the center. Lightly christen the peaches with the wine by dipping your fingertips in the liquid and flicking it over the fruit. Evenly sprinkle the surface of each peach with ½-teaspoon sugar, then drizzle with the remaining melted butter.
Place in the center of hot oven and bake for 30 minutes or until the peaches are tender when tested with the point of a paring knife and amaretti filling is lightly golden. Remove from oven and cool for at least 15 minutes before serving warm or at room temperature, plain or garnished with a dollop of lightly sweetened soft whipped cream.
Note: Finely ground almonds are often labeled "almond flour" in the marketplace. You can also make it from scratch by pulsing 1-1/3 ounces/38g blanched, peeled almonds with 1 tablespoon sugar in a food processor until very fine. Use the chopped almonds in recipe without measuring again but reduce the sugar by 1 tablespoon.

The Sweet Taste of Summer
Peperonata Crostini

August 15, 2016 By Deborah Dal Fovo 2 Comments

When life gives you peppers, you make Peperonata. Then you make Peperonata Crostini to accompany a pre-dinner glass of wine to tease the taste buds and get the party started. That’s exactly what I did this summer in Italy. We invited last minute guests to dinner and I needed bite size appetizers to serve with the aperitivi. When my friend walked into the kitchen with an armful of sun-ripened peppers freshly picked from her garden, I just had to turn them into one of my favorite summer dishes.

Peperonata gets its name from the main ingredient in this dish: peppers. And more precisely, bell peppers called peperoni in Italian. But unlike other preparations that grill, roast or sauté these peppers to play up their sharp, often bitter flavor, peperonata takes a different approach to bring out another side of this capsicum—the sweet side. The result is a magical marriage of flavors that is pure culinary alchemy.

In peperonata, lithe ribbons of bright red bell peppers are gently stewed with thinly sliced onions, garlic, and a tinge of tomato until tender, silky and coated with a sweet, syrupy glaze. Fragrant bay leaves lend an aromatic note and a strategic splash of wine vinegar—added as almost an afterthought—gives the stew a surprising tangy finish that lingers on the palate and begs for more. Peperonata’s vibrant mélange of colorful ingredients provides eye candy for an exhilerating taste trifecta of sweet-sour-savory that seduces even the most reluctant pepper eater.

While classic peperonata is made with red bell peppers, I often mix it up by using a combination of red, yellow and orange to create a joyful presentation you can taste first with your eyes. This time, the home-grown peppers from my friend’s garden were a stunning shade of cardinal red and naturally variegated with orange and green streaks from various degrees of sun-kissed ripeness. I paired them with red Tropea onions from Calabria for more sweetness.

Peperonata is one of those Italian dishes that every home cook should have in their culinary repertoire. It’s simple to prepare, takes relatively little time and is extremely versatile. Traditionally served warm as an Italian contorno, this vegetable side dish pairs exquisitely with roasted meats like pork, chicken or lamb. It can also be served at room temperature as a relish to accompany Italian salumi and cheeses for an antipasto. And in summer months, I love to serve peperonata as a colorful, tasty topping on toasted bread crostini for an irresistible hors d’oeuvre.

I learned to make peperonata from my friend Carlo in Sirmione, Italy decades ago. Carlo was a man of few words but spared none in teaching me his secrets to making the perfect peperonata. First, he showed me how to gently cook thin slices of onion until translucent before tossing in peppers—meticulously cut into same size ribbons—to infuse more natural sweetness. Next, after adding “just enough” water muddled with some tomato paste “for color”, he tucked two perfumed bay leaves into the pan. “Stew it at a low simmer with the lid slightly askew…but only until the peppers are supple and barely tender when poked with the point of a knife. Don’t overcook or they will become limp and mushy.” Perhaps his best advice, though, was to add vinegar at the very end then boil uncovered to burn off the brash flavor and reduce it to a sweet, shiny glaze that “makes the peppers look like candy”. These little secrets make all the difference in the world and I’ve been preparing peperonata Carlo’s way every since.

Once the peperonata is made, all I do when guests arrive is toast bread slices in the oven and lovingly drape the peppers on top of each crostino. Here I used a country style Tuscan loaf we had on hand cut into quarter moon shapes. But I often use a dense crumb baguette cut into thin rounds that are easy to pick up and eat while balancing a wine glass in the other hand. Then I sit back, enjoy my own party, and savor the sweet taste of summer in every bite of peperonata crostini.

PEPERONATA CROSTINI
CROSTINI CON PEPERONATA

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on August 13, 2016

Peperonata is a delectable Italian side dish featuring colorful ribbons of red bell peppers stewed with onion, garlic, and hint of tomato in a sweet and savory melange of flavors. Traditionally served warm to accompany roasted meats, my recipe transforms peperonata into a festive, tasty topping on toasted bread crostini for an irresistible appetizer to offer with aperitivi. © Copyright 2016 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 20m
Cook Time: 40m
Total Time: 1h

Serves: 10

Ingredients

For the peperonata:

4 large red bell peppers or mixture of red, yellow and orange (2 pounds/900g)
4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons /30g unsalted butter
1 large white onion or 2 sweet Tropea red onions, peeled, quartered and cut into thin half-moon slices
2 large garlic cloves, peeled and sliced paper thin
2 tablespoons sugar
1 tablespoon tomato paste dissolved in 2/3 cup water
2 bay leaves
3 tablespoons white wine vinegar
kosher or sea salt
freshly ground black pepper

For the crostini:

1 loaf country style Italian bread or dense crumb baguette
extra virgin olive oil

Instructions

Wash, core and seed peppers then cut the flesh into 1/4-inch thick ribbons, eliminating any white pith.
Heat the olive oil and butter In a saucepan over medium heat. Once butter melts, add the onions and garlic then sprinkle with a pinch of salt. Cook gently, stirring occasionally, until soft and translucent, reducing heat if needed to prevent browning.
Add the peppers and sprinkle with 1 teaspoon salt, pepper and sugar. Toss peppers in the cooking oils to coat then cook for a minute or two, stirring frequently.
Pour the water and tomato paste mixture into pan then tuck in the bay leaves. Bring to a boil then reduce heat to low and cover pan with a lid slightly askew to allow thin stream of vapor to escape. Cook at a gentle simmer for 25 to 30 minutes until peppers are supple and tender when pierced with point of a paring knife.
Add the vinegar and stir to incorporate. Increase heat to medium and boil uncovered for 3 to 5 minutes, stirring, until harsh vinegar vapors evaporate and sauce thickens to a shiny glaze that coats the peppers.
Remove from heat and discard bay leaves. Taste for seasoning and adjust if needed. Let the peperonata rest for at least 15 minutes before serving. Can be served warm or at room temperature and refrigerated for up to 3 days.
To make the crostini, preheat oven to 350°F/180°C. Cut the bread into 1/4 inch thick slices about 2 inches long. Arrange the bread in a single layer on a baking sheet and brush with olive oil. Place in oven and toast bread until crisp on surface yet soft in center, 5 to 7 minutes.
Drape a few ribbons of peperonata neatly on top of each crostino then drizzle with syrupy cooking juices and a thin stream of olive oil if desired.

You say tomato, I say “Pomodori al Riso”
Baked Rice Stuffed Tomatoes

June 24, 2016 By Deborah Dal Fovo 4 Comments

No sooner did I set foot in Italy last summer than the entertaining began. We just arrived in Tuscany and there was already a huge bash happening that night at the villa to celebrate Gianni’s niece’s 18th birthday. A gran gala complete with all the trimmings of an A-list affair had been in the planning stages for months…only for the junior jet-set. My daughter was going with all the cousins and an international guest list of youngsters flown in from London, Paris and beyond. Formal attire was de rigueur for the event — black tie for the boys and long gowns for the girls — and festivities would include champagne (perfectly legal for 18-year olds in Italy), white-glove dinner service, dancing under the stars…the whole shebang. Sounded like fun. But we, the “adults”, were not invited. Only the young and beautiful would attend — a kind of changing of the guard. “That’s ok,” my friend Maria Pia sniffed, “we’ll have our own party for all the parents at our house”. My usual question of “what should I make?” was answered with “qualcosa per un buffet” or something for a buffet dinner. At that exact moment, Maria Pia’s beautiful daughter strutted into the kitchen and announced with aplomb, “I’m wearing a red dress to the party.” Hmmm, I had something rosso on my mind but it was not a dress. There was no question what I would prepare for our dinner party that night and it was also red. Summer was in full swing with record heat waves so tomatoes were ultra-ripe and abundant. And, when you say tomato to me, I immediately think of…Pomodori al Riso.

Pomodori al Riso is a traditional dish from Rome that pays homage to height-of-summer tomatoes like only Romans can — by placing them center stage as divas of baked vegetables that seduce both the eye and the appetite. Voluptuous tomatoes — kissed first by the sun and then by the oven — are transformed into hollow vessels stuffed with fragrant, garlic-and-herb-infused rice that playfully peeks out from under wrinkly red “caps” perched atop their plump curves like festive hats. In addition to a stunning presentation and easy to serve portions, these intensely flavored stuffed tomatoes are prepared in advance and served at room temperature — making them perfect for summer entertaining.

As with all Italian cooking, making good stuffed tomatoes requires good ingredients: ripe yet FIRM tomatoes, excellent quality rice, fruity extra virgin olive oil, fresh mint, parsley and garlic plus…a little manual dexterity and a lot of patience (I’ll explain later). At the local vegetable stand, I chose tomatoes more-or-less the same size (slightly larger than a tennis ball) by gently squeezing each one to make sure it was firm enough to remain intact during baking. These were pomodori ramati, or cluster tomatoes, that are bright red, round and meaty with a herbaceous, vine-ripened scent. In fact, the ones I selected still had stems attached, some of which I’d leave on for presentation purposes.

Back in the kitchen, I sliced the rounded tops off the tomatoes to create “lids” then carefully scooped out the pulp, seeds and precious juices from inside each one to form hollow shells with thick walls. This required the use of a serrated grapefruit spoon and a bit of care to avoid piercing the delicate tomato flesh and outer skin (remember the patience I talked about). The hollow tomatoes were turned, cut side down, to drain while the stuffing was made. I pureed the tomato pulp and juices through a food mill to eliminate bitter seeds and tough core then poured in plenty of extra virgin olive oil (I talked about amazing Tuscan olive oil in this previous post). Next, using the resident mezzaluna — a half-moon shaped knife in every Italian kitchen — I made a battuto, or fine chop of garlic-mint-parsley. The rocking motion of the curved blade over this particular combination of herbs released a familiar aromatic scent that reminded me of another classic Roman dish I often make — Carciofi alla Romana — and gives the stuffed tomatoes that unmistakably Roman taste.

Rice plays a starring role in this dish and the quality is important. While Arborio works well and is commonly used, Carnaroli or Vialone Nano (also risotto rice) are even better because of their superior quality. I added the raw rice and minced herbs to the tomato juice and gave the mixture a good stir before letting it rest for about half an hour. While the rice soaked up moisture and flavor, I peeled and thickly sliced some potatoes.

With all the prep work done, it was time to put this dish together. I arranged the tomato shells upright in an oiled baking dish and filled them almost full with rice and juices before placing their lids back on. Then I strategically wedged potato slices in between the tomatoes to hold them snugly in place as they baked. The rice would absorb the liquid, plump and cook while the tomatoes baked being held upright by the potatoes that cooked at the same time. At that point I stopped to marvel at the brilliance of the Romans and their clever culinary creativity. But that wasn’t the only thing I was admiring. The sight of the assembled dish was so gorgeous that I grabbed my camera to capture the beauty of nature at work.

As a final gesture of love, I drizzled the tomatoes and potatoes with more olive oil and sprinkled with salt (tomatoes are very needy) before sliding them into the hot oven. The kitchen soon filled with an irresistible aroma, letting me know that the stuffed tomatoes were almost done. When I took them out of the oven after an hour, they were deeply bronzed with wrinkly skin and the potatoes soft with golden edges. I tasted the rice for doneness and it was tender, moist and very tasty. Now came the hard part, but it had nothing to do with work. Tradition dictates that pomodori al riso rest at least one hour before serving to allow flavors to mingle and marry. The temptation was very strong to sneak a tomato, but I resisted. Maria Pia had already set the table and plated the other items for the buffet. There was nothing left to do but wait for guests to arrive and admire our beautiful daughters in their long gowns as they headed off to the gala.

As we, “the adults”, sat around the large round table under the stars, music from the party at the villa drifted over through the trees and became the background sound to our animated dinner conversation. It was effortless, elegant Italian entertaining at its best. And tonight, Maria Pia’s daughter wasn’t the only lady in red. My baked rice stuffed tomatoes made a spectacular entrance on the table and were enjoyed by all. So, when you say tomato, I will always say “pomodori al riso”.

BAKED RICE STUFFED TOMATOES
POMODORI AL RISO

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on June 14, 2016

Pomodori al Riso is a beloved Roman dish that is perfect for summer entertaining and as beautiful as it is delicious. Vivid red vine-ripened tomatoes are hollowed out and filled with rice marinated in the tomato’s own juices, olive oil, garlic and herbs then baked until golden, tender and intensely flavorful. © 2016 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved.

Prep Time: 45h
Cook Time: 60h

Serves: 8

Ingredients

8 medium, ripe yet FIRM round red tomatoes each weighing 5 to 6 ounces, preferably with stem leaves attached (cluster tomatoes work well)
1 cup/200g Arborio, Carnaroli or Vialone Nano rice (about 2 tablespoons for each tomato)
8 tablespoons/119ml extra virgin olive oil, plus more for greasing baking dish and drizzling
1 large garlic clove, finely minced (about 1 teaspoon)
1 handful fresh flat leaf Italian parsley leaves, finely chopped (about 1 tablespoon)
10 fresh mint leaves, finely chopped (about 1 teaspoon)
3 large Yukon Gold potatoes
Kosher or sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste

Instructions

Grease a 9 x 12 oven-proof baking dish with olive oil.
Wash and dry the tomatoes. Using a sharp knife, cut a horizontal slice about 3/8-inch off the stem top of each tomato to form a lid, leaving one side attached like a hinge if desired.
Working on one tomato at a time, use a serrated grapefruit spoon or small paring knife to cut around the inside perimeter of the tomato between the wall of flesh and inner pulp. Carefully scoop out the pulp, core, seeds and juice directly into a food mill set over a non-metallic bowl. Scrape out the tomato to create a hollow shell with thick wall of flesh on sides and bottom (about 3/8-inch), taking care not to pierce the flesh or skin while you work. Repeat the process with each tomato.
Sprinkle a bit of salt inside each tomato then turn them upside down on a cutting board to drain while you prepare the rice stuffing.
Puree the tomato pulp and juices through the food mill into bowl, discarding seeds and cores. If you don’t have a food mill, press the contents through a strainer with the back of a spoon into bowl or pulse contents in a food processor to liquify then strain to eliminate seeds and cores.
Add the raw rice, extra virgin olive oil, and minced garlic and herbs to the tomato juices. Season with 1-tablespoon salt and freshly ground pepper then stir to combine and let stand for 30 to 40 minutes.
Preheat oven to 375°F/190°C.
Pat each tomato shell dry, inside and out, with paper towels. Arrange the tomatoes, cut side up, in the oiled baking dish. Fill the tomato shells about 7/8 full with rice stuffing then spoon remaining tomato juices evenly each. Place the lids back on the tomatoes, matching up if separated.
Peel the potatoes and cut into thick slices. Wedge the potatoes in between and around the tomatoes to hold snugly in place. Drizzle the tomatoes and potatoes liberally with olive oil and sprinkle generously with salt.
Cover the baking dish with a sheet of foil and bake in the center of hot oven for 30 minutes. Remove the foil and bake, uncovered, for another 25 to 30 minutes, basting the tomatoes and rice with cooking juices every now and then.
The stuffed tomatoes are done when they are deeply bronzed with wrinkled lids, the rice is tender and moist, potatoes are soft inside yet crispy around the edges, and the cooking juices have thickened to a glaze-like consistency.
Remove from oven and let rest for at least 1 to 2 hours before serving warm or at room temperature as a appetizer, side dish or lunch entree.

A Warm Welcome Home – My Return to Tuscany
Tuscan Farro and Bean Soup

June 10, 2016 By Deborah Dal Fovo 9 Comments

It was almost midnight when the loud ping of my cell phone announced a message had arrived on WhatsApp. Must be from Italy, I thought, since all my friends here in California were probably asleep. I clicked open the phone, unprepared for the emotional surprise it held. “Gallena vi aspetta!” read the exclamation beneath a photo, “Gallena awaits you!” Those three little words and the image on that tiny screen seemed larger than life and triggered an unexpected wave of nostalgia to wash over me as hot tears flooded my eyes. There it was — Gallena — my Tuscan home-away-from-home and the place I longed to return to for so many years. It was waiting for me!

“Gallena vi aspetta!”

I studied the house in the photo like it was the face of a dear old friend — feature by familiar feature. It was just as beautiful as I remembered. The petite yet sturdy country house built a century ago of unique blush-colored stones seemed to glow in the sunlight. Its rosy hue was accentuated by forest green shutters adorning the facade and an opulent spray of flowering jasmine that framed the entrance in a regal archway. Like the well-calculated perspective of a Renaissance painting, the photo drew me in. When I noticed the open door that beckoned me inside with a warm, welcoming gesture, my heart did a little flip. I felt back home already.

The message was my friend Maria Pia’s way of making me feel good about my upcoming trip to Italy. I’d mentioned my fear to her about going back after being away for so long from the place I left my heart, lost my marriage and desperately missed every day. The photo was her way of saying “it’ll be all right…just come back.”

Italy had been my home for decades and the literal backdrop to my life story — and Gallena was a big part of that story. Gallena is a large rural estate owned by Maria Pia’s husband Gianni’s family located in the lush, green hills of Camaiore — a tiny town in Tuscany near Lucca perched high above the pristine beaches of the Versilia coast. The homes that dot the private hillside property belong to Gianni’s siblings and cousins. It’s where they gather on weekends to escape hectic city lives and a sacred place for quality time with family and invited friends. I am one of those lucky friends though they treat me like famiglia. Over the decades, my husband, children and I spent many idyllic summers, holidays and weekends there and, while I know many of the other houses inside and out, the home I know best is Maria Pia and Gianni’s. So many magical memories were made there and now I would return after endless days, months and years of waiting…wanting.

Once my daughter and I finally arrived in Italy, the car ride down to Tuscany from Milan was so full of chatter and catching up with our Italian friends that I barely noticed we’d arrived at Gallena until we were at the gate. The Range Rover barreled up the hill in twists and turns along the narrow country road, cutting through thick woods that blanketed the property. My heart raced in anticipation as we zig-zagged up the steep hill, each familiar curve bringing me closer to the house. “Would it still be the same?”, I asked myself then prayed “I hope so.” The tires growled on the gravel road as Maria Pia floored the accelerator to round the last hairpin turn before the house came into view in the distance. At last!

I didn’t need to walk through the door to know what was inside. I knew every detail by heart, especially the kitchen. Even blindfolded, I could walk in and cook a decent meal. A simple country cucina, it was the perfect mix of rustic, artsy and functional with everything needed to cook for a large crowd — and we were always a large crowd. Once inside I saw that everything was as I remembered. The familiar brushed aluminum collage of pots and pans hung, without rhyme or reason, like an abstract painting from a periwinkle blue frame nailed to the stucco wall. The white marble countertop from neighboring Carrara that was lovingly etched from decades of daily use. And the piece de resistance — a vintage wooden laundry ironing station — stood proudly in the middle of the room serving as the central workstation and center-of-life around which everything in the house seemed to happen.

The antique kitchen objects that embellished the walls gave the cucina its quirky, age-old character but were useful as well. Salt was pinched from porcelain spice drawers near the stove and Italian Moka coffeemakers stood ready to use on the hand-carved wooden drying rack. Although the kitchen wasn’t fancy and didn’t have the professional chef tools I use in the U.S., it was heaven to me — and just the inspiration I needed to make authentic Tuscan food again. I couldn’t wait to start cooking!

The opportunity came when my friends went to Milan for work and I stayed behind with our now-teenage children and played mamma to a group of delightful bravi ragazzi for the week. When everyone was headed back for the weekend, I wanted to prepare dinner to welcome them home. At the time, Italy was experiencing a record heat wave with temperatures in the high 90’s, so I hadn’t a clue what to make that was home-cooked and nurturing yet could be eaten warm or at room temperature…until I saw some freshly shelled Borlotti, or cranberry beans, at the local market. Perfetto, I thought, just perfect. With their distinctive ivory color and bright fuchsia marbling, borlotti are the crowns jewels of Italian legumes and have a short window of harvest time to take advantage of. In California I rarely, if ever, find these beans fresh and usually have to use the dried variety, so I was excited to cook with them again and knew just what to make. I would prepare the iconic, local farro and bean soup called Gran Farro della Garfagnana in the afternoon that we could eat at room temperature that evening to temper the heat of the setting sun.

In addition to the beans, I picked some fresh rosemary from the evergreen shrubs growing outside the kitchen door but needed another important item for this dish. Rummaging through the drawers of an antique grocery store cabinet that served as the kitchen pantry, I found just what I was looking for — farro. Known as emmer wheat in English, farro is an ancient grain grown in the nearby Garfagnana mountains high above the town of Lucca and is appropriately the star ingredient of this eponymous soup.

An exquisite grain used in lieu of rice in many Tuscan dishes, farro is an ancient strain of hard wheat with an easily recognizable oblong shape, sandy color and distinctive crease down the center. It has a pleasant nutty flavor and chewy texture and is rich in nutrients and fiber. In fact, it is said that Roman soldiers were fed a solid diet of farro to give them the strength needed to conquer the world. That’s quite a grain in my opinion!

I grabbed a big pot off the wall and started the soup by making a classic soffritto — the savory base used in many Italian soups, stews and sauces — by sautéing the holy trinity of chopped onions/carrots/celery in plenty of extra virgin olive oil that was pressed the previous autumn from olives grown on the property. Oh, how I missed living in Tuscany! There was never a lack of gorgeous green olive oil at my disposal. Next, I crushed a few whole garlic cloves with the palm of my hand and tossed them into the pot. This is when tradition normally dictates the addition of chopped pancetta, but there was none in sight so I sprinkled in extra chopped rosemary and sage, which are Tuscan cuisine’s signature herbs. Lastly, I added a pinch of peperoncino chili pepper plucked from the dried bouquet hanging decoratively on the wall and deglazed everything with a big splash of local white wine.

The soup had an amazing aroma even before I added chopped summer tomatoes that were so ripe you could smell the sunshine. Once the tomatoes cooked down, in went the fresh beans with a couple liters of water to cook at barely a simmer. After almost an hour, when the beans were tender and creamy, I scooped out about three-quarters worth and pureed them back into the pot using an old-fashioned food mill. I seasoned the soup with plenty of sea salt and freshly ground pepper then added the farro (using the perlato, or polished variety, that takes less time to cook) along with some diced potatoes, and simmered everything for another 20 minutes until the farro was al dente. Even in blistering heat wave temperatures, I was feeling incredibly happy to be in my Tuscan kitchen again!

It was then that I realized something else happened while I was cooking. As I stood stirring the soup, something stirred inside me. Maybe it was the intense heat or the heady fragrances filling my head, but suddenly the past didn’t matter anymore. All the sadness, fear, and hurt I was feeling had melted away — like the tomatoes in the soup. The only thing that really mattered to me now was that I was back in Italy again with my friends. Everything would be all right after all.

“Che bella zuppa!” Maria Pia exclaimed, “what a beautiful soup” as we poured ladles of it into shallow bowls to cool before dinner. Once everyone arrived and was tucked in around the dinner table, the sun did a graceful dive into the horizon casting a loving glow across our plates and a balmy evening breeze drifted in through open doors creating the perfect atmosphere for a reunion dinner. “Cin cin” we simultaneously chimed, raising our wine glasses in unison. “Buon appetito and welcome back Deborah. We missed you,” Maria Pia said, smiling knowingly at me across the table. This was the long-awaited moment I dreamed of and it truly was…a warm welcome home.

TUSCAN FARRO AND BEAN SOUP
Gran Farro della Garfagnana

Created by Deborah Dal Fovo on June 1, 2016

Copyright 2016 Deborah Dal Fovo. All rights reserved. This is my recipe using dried Borlotti beans so you can make this soup all year long. If you’re lucky enough to find fresh cranberry beans during the summer months, skip soaking and precooking beans and use the cooking procedure described in my post. See note below.

Prep Time: 20m
Cook Time: 2h

Yield: Serves 6 to 8

Ingredients

For the beans:

2 cups /350g dried Borlotti (cranberry) beans or 1 1/2 pounds/680g shelled fresh cranberry beans (see note below)
2½ quarts/2.5 liters cold water, plus more to soak dried beans if using
4 large garlic cloves, crushed and peeled (omit if using fresh beans)
Sprig of fresh fresh sage (omit if using fresh beans)

For the soup:

1/2 cup /125ml extra virgin olive oil, plus more to garnish
1 red onion, finely chopped
1 yellow onion, finely chopped
1 leek (white part only), finely sliced and rinsed under cold water
2 carrots, peeled and finely chopped
2 celery stalks, trimmed and finely chopped
2 large garlic cloves, lightly crushed then peeled
4 ounces /115g pancetta, finely chopped (optional)
1 teaspoon fresh rosemary leaves, finely minced
4 fresh sage leaves, finely minced
Pinch of chili pepper flakes or chopped peperoncino
½ cup/125ml dry white wine (optional)
4 tablespoons tomato paste or 1/2 cup/125ml dense plum tomato puree
2 medium yukon gold potatoes, peeled and cut into small dice
1½ cups/260g farro perlato, preferably from Garfagnana
Kosher or sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Instructions

Sort through the dried beans to eliminate any small stones or debris then place them in a large bowl and cover by 2 inches with cold water. Let the beans soak for 12 hours or overnight, during which time they will reconstitute and increase two to three times in volume.
Drain the beans and place in a large pot, preferably made of glazed earthenware. Add 2½ quarts/2.5 liters cold water, 4 garlic cloves and sprig of sage. Place over medium heat and bring to a simmer. Cover the pot then reduce the heat to low and cook the beans at barely a simmer for about 50 minutes until tender, occasionally skimming off any foam that rises to the surface. Add 2 teaspoons salt and cook for another 10 minutes until beans are very tender. Scoop out ¼ of the whole beans with a slotted spoon and reserve. Discard the garlic and sage from the pot then puree the remaining beans with their cooking liquid using a food mill, emersion blender or food processor and set aside.
In a large heavy bottomed soup pot, heat the extra virgin olive oil over medium heat. Add the chopped onions, leeks, carrots, celery and cook the vegetables, stirring occasionally, until glazed and golden, about 10 minutes. Add the garlic cloves and pancetta and cook, stirring, for 4 to 5 minutes then stir in the rosemary, sage and chili pepper flakes and cook for another minute. Pour in the white wine, if using, and boil for a minute or two until all alcohol evaporates. Add the tomato paste or puree and season generously with salt then cook for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes begin to separate from the oil. Add the potatoes and stir to coat with cooking oils then add the pureed beans with their cooking liquid and bring to a lively simmer.
Rinse the farro well under cold, running water and add to the simmering soup. Cook for 20 minutes with the lid slightly askew, stirring occasionally to prevent the farro from sticking to the bottom of the pot, and adding more water if needed. Add the reserved whole beans to the pot and cook the soup for an additional 5 to 10 minutes until the farro is very al dente, tender yet quite firm to the bite, and the soup is medium-thick in consistency.
Remove from heat and taste to adjust seasoning if needed. Allow the soup to rest for at least 15 minutes before serving in shallow bowls with a generous drizzle of fruity extra virgin olive oil on top. Can be served hot, warm or at room temperature.
NOTE: If using fresh borlotti (cranberry) beans, skip the soaking and precooking steps (1 & 2) needed for dried beans. Substitute dried beans with the amount of fresh beans indicated in ingredient list, keeping quantities of other ingredients the same, and follow the procedure described in the narrative of my post by adding fresh beans directly to the soup during cooking process.

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Filling and topping:

Instructions

STRAW AND HAY PASTA WITH TRUFFLES Paglia e Fieno al Tartufo

Ingredients

For the plain egg pasta dough:

For the spinach pasta dough:

To cook and dress the pasta:

Special equipment:

Instructions

To make the spinach pasta dough:

To make the plain pasta dough:

To roll and cut the pasta sheets:

To cook and dress the pasta:

PORK TENDERLOIN WITH FIGS AND BALSAMIC SAUCE Filetto di Maiale ai Fichi

Ingredients

Instructions

BAKED SUNSET PEACHES WITH AMARETTI FILLING Pesche Ripiene al Forno

Ingredients

Instructions

PEPERONATA CROSTINI CROSTINI CON PEPERONATA

Ingredients

For the peperonata:

For the crostini:

Instructions

BAKED RICE STUFFED TOMATOES POMODORI AL RISO

Ingredients

Instructions

TUSCAN FARRO AND BEAN SOUP Gran Farro della Garfagnana

Ingredients

For the beans:

For the soup:

Instructions

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Gran Farro della Garfagnana