Category Archives: food

Making Chutney

I had been saying all summer that I was going to make tomato chutney during this season, while the tomatoes are at their best – and, in Italy, that is very good indeed! My favorite fruttivendolo was selling pomodori ramati – tomatoes on the vine – at 3 euros for 3 kilos, so I bought 3 kilos (~ 10 lbs.).

I first scalded all the tomatoes, in batches, in boiling water for 15-30 seconds, lifting them out with a slotted spoon and letting them drain and cool in a colander. When they were cool enough, I peeled them (at this point, you can just strip the peels off with your fingers), chopped them, and removed most of the seeds – this is a personal thing, I just don’t like the seeds. If you don’t care, you can leave them in.

3 kilos is a lot of tomatoes, so I decided to make two different kinds of chutney, both from Madhur Jaffrey recipes. First was a Hyderabadi chutney – very peppery and garlicky, a bit yellow from turmeric. Unlike most of the chutneys I’ve made so far, this one is sauted. It is tasty, and VERY hot.

The bulk of the tomatoes (2.3 kilos) I used for my usual sweet tomato chutney, again a Madhur Jaffrey recipe. I can’t find online the exact recipe I’m using, but this one is similar – just use fresh tomatoes prepared as described above.

This recipe calls for cooking the tomatoes in vinegar and sugar, with lots of minced garlic and some spices and salt, for about an hour and a half. The recipe calls for raisins, which maybe help it densify (is that a word?) faster, but I decided to leave them out since I still have a batch of apricot chutney made a few weeks ago, with raisins. So the cooking time got longer, and it got slightly burned on the bottom before it really got dense enough. But I picked out most of the black specks, and they don’t seem to affect the flavor, which is sweet, sour, and garlicky, all at the same time.

chutney jars

The pictures show all three chutneys – apricot, sweet tomato, and spicy tomato. Hmm. I still have some things to learn about food photography. The first two will go well with cheeses – aged and sharp cheeses such as parmigiano for sure, and probably with some kinds of pecorino (sheep’s milk) or caprino (goat’s milk) cheese as well, especially aged ones. The third one is more like a relish; I’ll have to see what it goes well with, though Ms. Jaffrey says it “could brighten up almost any meal.”

Craving Flavor

New studies every year show that Americans are becoming fatter and fatter. It’s something Europeans remark on every time they travel to the US (and Canada): “I saw more truly obese people in one trip to the supermarket than I’ve seen in all my life in Italy!” an Italian friend said to me.

Conversely, Americans are amazed that Italian food is so wonderful, and Italians eat so much of it, yet there are relatively few overweight people here. What’s the secret?

I think it’s the quality of the food. In Italy, the things that are good for you (fruit, vegetables, fish, pasta, bread, lean meat) are full of flavor, and taste wonderful with very little alteration. A salad gets a dressing of olive oil and balsamic vinegar, because that’s all it needs – you don’t want to drown the natural flavors in heavy, globby sauces. Meat and fish are lightly grilled and served with a squeeze of lemon juice, maybe a dash of olive oil. Pasta is accompanied by rich sauces, but only enough so that the noodles are coated lightly – not swimming. You might have a spoonful of sauce left in the plate when all the pasta is gone, just enough to mop up with your bread and relish to the last drop.

In America, fruits and vegetables have been bred to be transported. They have to survive the journey in trucks from California to Maine, and still look good on supermarket shelves when they arrive. As far as the producers are concerned, flavor is unimportant. American consumers have accepted this logic for years, buying for looks and apparently not noticing that their food has almost no flavor.

Picture the average supermarket tomato in America: it’s large, evenly-shaped, firm, shiny-skinned, in color a pale pinky-orange. The flesh inside looks like crystals of pinkish ice. And the taste? A mouthful of cold, dull mush.

On my first visit to Italy, Enrico (now my husband) and I visited a friend in Firenze, who took us to eat at a workers’ restaurant. The food was simple, but very good. Enrico was amused by the irony of an American capitalist eating lunch in a hotbed of communism. I was mesmerized by the tomatoes. It was summer, the height of tomato season, and these tomatoes were so red they were almost fluorescent (to match the politics, perhaps). And the flavor, ohmigod the flavor! I ate a huge plate of sliced tomatoes with just olive oil and a pinch of salt.

Between 1994 and 2001 I lived in Italy but travelled to the US a great deal, sometimes staying for extended periods. Every time I was there, though I ate portions that seemed normal for me, I gained weight. When I was able to cook, I tried to reproduce the simple meals I make in Italy, but had only limited success.

I realized that I was eating more fried and sweet foods, and heavy sauces and dressings, than I ever did in Italy, because I longed for flavor. We all crave tasty food, and find it more satisfying, portion for portion, than dull food (if this weren’t the case, we could all live on crackers and oatmeal). When the foods that are good for us don’t satisfy our cravings for flavor, we dress them up with sugar and fats, to keep our tastebuds happy. Thus we get fat.

Is there a solution in reach of American consumers? Probably. As a first step, Americans are already becoming more food-conscious, more interested in flavor and quality, and willing to pay for it. Farmers’ markets are available in many places, and are usually your best bet for finding truly flavorful fresh produce. Once found, resist the urge to dress it up or drown it; learn to like vegetables the way God made them.

Yup, that’s my lesson for the day: eat your veggies.

Italian vs. American Diet

^ ravioli at Lanterna Verde – yum!

One of the most boring things in the world is listening to people talk about their diet (hearing them complain about their weight runs a close second). However, in America today there’s nothing to discuss, because everyone is on the Atkins diet (no carbohydrates, but you can eat as much of anything else as you want).

Food companies and advertisers have been swift to adapt. In the supermarket I saw “low-carbohydrate bread.” I did not read the label to learn how they accomplished this miracle; I had a feeling it would involve chemicals I’d never want to put into my body.

Magazine articles, books, and news items give alarming statistics about obesity, and offer ways to combat it, both in yourself and your children. It seems to me that maintaining a healthy weight is not rocket science, and doesn’t require a diet plan that you have to buy a whole book about, let alone pre-packaged diet meals with counted calories etc. etc. Didn’t we all learn the basics of nutrition in school, the four major food groups and all that? The major lesson I remember is that it never hurts to eat more fruit and vegetables, especially when those replace starches, fats, and sugars in your daily intake.

Perhaps what Americans really need is to revise their attitude towards food. Food seems to occupy two diametrically-opposed places in American consciousness. On the one hand, food is simply fuel – you shovel in whatever comes to hand, to keep you going. It’s this attitude that leads to families rarely eating together, as everyone is rushing off to their extra-curricular activities, grabbing whatever they can to eat along the way.

But food also has a psychological role. Cookbooks, menus, and people tout the concept of “comfort food,” which, when eaten, is supposed to make you feel secure or loved, perhaps by reminding you of your childhood. (Never mind that most of us never had this mythical comforting childhood or that kind of food with it.)

Comfort is a very dangerous role for food to play. You hear the same story over and over again: “I wasn’t overweight, but then I went through a rough patch and felt depressed. I turned to food for comfort, and became a blimp.” At the blimp stage, food is re-cast as the enemy, the secret sin, and the indulgent reward for good behavior (most often, diet-related good behavior: “I was good today, I only had salad for lunch, so I’m entitled to have a brownie now”).

The attitude towards food is one area where Italy really gets it right. This attitude is made explicit by the Slow Food movement, but I think is pervasive throughout Italian culture. In Italy, a meal is neither mere refueling nor comforting self-indulgence. It’s a time for a family to be together, to enjoy good food and each others’ company. It’s not something to be rushed through, neither in preparation nor in consumption. So dinner is eaten far later than in the US, usually around 8 pm. Meals are spread over at least two courses, which also slows you down. You have time to appreciate the food and wine, and to talk to each other. And there’s no rushing through the meal to watch TV afterwards. (I have never heard an Italian, not even a child, leave the table on that pretext.)

The Italian style of family meal has several beneficial side effects. On the nutritional side, everyone tends to eat a more balanced diet, in part because parents are at the table with their kids to ensure that they eat what’s good for them. Taking your time over a meal also ensures that you digest it better. And spending time together is good for families: you know what’s going on with each other.

Needless to say, the Atkins diet is not taking off in Italy, the home of pasta, risotto, polenta, and tasty, crusty bread. Thank god.