Tag: memories

Lidia Bastianich: «The most beautiful recipes and memories of my life in Italy – Italian Cuisine

Lidia Bastianich: «The most beautiful recipes and memories of my life in Italy»


Lidia Bastianich is an Italian naturalized American chef, television personality and writer. She is not least a mother and grandmother, caring, sometimes severe, but always respectful of her Italian roots. Yes, because Lidia Bastianich’s origins are Istrian, when Istria still belonged to Italy, at least until 1975, when our country – with the controversial Treaty of Osimo – definitively and without compensation, renounced its right to those territories . We asked her for some anecdotes about her when she lived in Istria, with her parents and all her relatives, many of whom are no longer here today. But also what she brought with her, to bring those memories back to life with thought and deeds.

This important theme of mixing memories and cuisine is the fulcrum of the project The Tales of the Roots, created in collaboration with the MAECIwhich was recently presented at the Farnesina in the presence of the Ministers Tajani and Lollobrigida during the launch of the eighth edition of SCIM – Week of Italian Cuisine in the World 2023. Naturally, Lidia Bastianich could not fail to be part of this magnificent story of Italian immigration in the world, and here we are already telling you about a first taste.

Grandma Rosa and the farmyard animals

«I grew up with my grandmother Rosa in the countryside, in Pula, in Istria, among animals, among the products of the earth. I still remember the courtyard of the house and this scene: the grandparents, their brothers, the various aunts, all with aprons and handkerchiefs tied on their heads. It was them, the aunts, who at the table reminded us to never waste food, “there are children who don’t eat too much”, they said. Today Italian cuisine for me is a memory, a nostalgia, a passion, a way to receive and give love. It was, to all intents and purposes, not only a stimulus for what I have done and am doing in the United States but also a confirmation of who I am. As a child I grew up in a comfort zone, in the countryside, among the chickens, goats and rabbits that I fed. I was the “runner”, the “helper”, Grandma Rosa’s helper in the kitchen, especially on Sundays. I still remember those intoxicating smells of the sauce that boiled for hours, where the stove was, in the “blackhouse, next to the chicken coop. But also the scent of laurel, rosemary, tomato preserves, which I liked to “touch”, a little furtively, with a piece of bread.”

Farewell to Italy, without warning

«When I emigrated to the United States, in 1958, I was 12 years old, it was food that reminded me of my childhood: cooking made me feel good because it took me back to that bygone period. Once I arrived in New York I asked myself: “Why do I love cooking so much?”. I think it was instinct that made me go back to my origins: I was a child and at the time I never imagined that I would never see home againthen over time I understood it and, with regret, I thought that I hadn’t been able to say goodbye to my grandmother Rosa, my goats, my aunts… Well, with cooking I brought my land, my family, to America .

That small kitchen, but small… like that

«A tradition kept alive with passion, enthusiasm and love for four generations, even when, as soon as we arrived overseas, Caritas assigned us a small apartment with a kitchen as small as a closet. There, however, we had meals with family and friends, not without difficulty: we passed the food from hand to hand, since there wasn’t enough space. Then, as soon as I could, in reaction, I treated myself to a large Kitchen! Among the dishes we prepared most often were rice and potatoes, polenta with cheese, pan-fried cabbage and, above all, gnocchi, which even today, when I eat them, are an internal caress, they give me a “sensation” unique. A tradition that continues in New York and that I have also passed on to my grandchildren.

Around the table kneading the gnocchi

As children, my grandchildren all sat around the table kneading dough, just like my grandmother did with me; Now they are adults, they go to university, but they call me to ask for advice: “How to make the sauce, how long the broth should boil, etc.” I am very happy that they too, in addition to my children, can carry their origins with them, despite being born in America. The culture of food transcends birth, but belongs to the origins of the family. Also because there is a substantial difference between Italians and Americans, we always bring food with us. For this reason, Italian cuisine in the United States is the most appreciated, also thanks to the first Italian Americans who came here in 1800 to seek their fortune, bringing with them regional traditions. Very different from my Istrian ones, because theirs were from southern Italy. So, as an adult, I began to travel far and wide across the Bel Paese, so I discovered regional dishes and brought them to the States. This was my luck, this was my choice, this was my life.”

Memories of an ancient Romagna – Sale & Pepe – Italian Cuisine

191308


191308It will be the age, the season or the holidays that are coming but, I admit, my relationship with the broth has changed. Never too much loved in the past, relegated to Christmas days and drunk in small quantities to the cry of “more tortellini and less broth”, as my children did as children. Now everything has turned upside down and I appreciate it in the form and substance of a rich and invigorating food, naturally made with excellent meat and with all the appropriate rules. To drink like this but, better still, enriched with fresh egg pasta: maltagliati, quadrucci, tagliolini or patacucci from Romagna, strichetti, passatelli, soup in the Imola bag, gross spoja and cappelletti, especially lean ones. Yes, you will say, why don't I mention the tortellino? Because we always talk about this master of the holidays, but where Emilia ends and Romagna begins, the music changes and stuffed pasta is called cappelletto, distinguishing itself from its Emilian cousin for a larger casing, with abundant filling, which demonstrates opulence and reaffirms, once again, that Emilia and Romagna, although geographically united, are two different peoples.

Together with the many territorial variants of the fat cappelletti, where the meat filling varies between western and eastern Romagna and also the seasoning, there is one of lean which is the oldest (first written mention of 1811) in which culture is alive pastoral and peasant and the filling is a delicate blend of cheeses. These were the cappelletti that were prepared on Christmas Eve for the next day, without meat. Eggs, nutmeg, grated Parmesan, ricotta and an unripe cheese such as raviggiolo or squacquerone entered the “compensation or battuto”, that is, the filling. Form the "caplèt“It was a choral work, you had to hurry so that the pastry did not dry out, then a linen cloth covered them waiting to end up in the mixed broth of beef and capon the next day. Secondly, on Christmas evening or on Boxing Day, those left to cook, after having been forced to pass in the broth, were drained and seasoned with a ragout of poultry giblets used for the broth itself. It could also happen that someone, not by chance, ended up in the dish a "caplitaz", a cappellettaccio, three times bigger than normal and whose filling was made up of pasta alone or contained a peppercorn or a grain of corn. It was all piloting the azdòra who, slyly, sent messages and only those who received them could interpret them. Once the preparation of the cappelletti was finished, in many peasant houses, with a long and thin skewer, a caplèt, called the "sintiröl", Which the older person toasted by the fireplace and then ate: it was a sacrifice on the altar of the gods of the house, the arola. We have news of this rite still in 1952.

Then the family went to Mass and on Christmas day there was a big party. The prefect of Forlì described it in 1881: “Every family makes a pasta soup with a ricotta filling which is called cappelletti. The greed for this soup is so general that everyone, and especially the priests, makes bets as to who eats a greater quantity and some get to the number of 400 or 500 ". Of course, there was a lot of hunger and only one Christmas, but the delicacy of this soup has remained unchanged over time. Adelmo Masotti, author in 1996 of the Romagnolo-Italian vocabulary and I believe a good card player, said: "a ës e caplèt uns dis mai d’nò": you never say no to aces and cappelletti. And I, who don't play cards, will dedicate myself only to this Romagna soup, sure that it will make my Christmas enjoyable. Unless I get a "caplitaz".

Traditional dishes, including smiles of grandmothers and childhood memories – Italian Cuisine


The sounds, tastes and smells of the kitchen. But also the colors of the vegetables broken on the cutting board, the quick hands of the grandmothers and the mothers who move between stoves and trays, the tables for the holidays. Here are the traditional recipes, able to bring to light our most precious memories

Who doesn't have at least one dish tied to a special memory? The flavors, the smells and the sounds of the kitchen they are able to bring back to our mind distant images, guarded like precious jewels in that casket that is our mind.

Here, then, is the smell of breakfast that reached us, children, still wrapped in blankets. Or the irresistible smell of roast meat, ragout, a tart that came to visit us while we were playing in the corridor with our sisters and brothers. And did you spend your Sunday mornings in the chair to help your mother knead the dumplings or noodles? Don't tell us that you never did it, that you are boys or girls.
We also talked about the sounds, or noises, of the kitchen. Even those, when we were little, heard them and we recognized them from one room to another. The pots that passed from the stove to the work table and vice versa, the rapid beating of the knife against the chopping board for chopping vegetables, or that of the trays that beat between them while agile female hands covered them with delicacies; and, again, the tinkling of glasses and plates while setting the table, perhaps on some special occasion: a birthday, Christmas, Easter.
And how can we forget the summer, the sun that burned pleasantly on our shoulders, the skin pulled by sea salt, the lunches on the beach, where the scent of saltiness was mixed with lasagna or cannelloni, dishes prepared the day before and now dished before our hungry little eyes, with their hair still wet from the sea stuck to their foreheads, surrounded by aunts, cousins, grandparents, all cheerful in the mid-August air.

It is to this memory that we want to inspire today to advise you on some recipes that, we hope, awaken in you the memories of loved ones, of places of the heart, of happy moments.

Apple tart with hazelnut crumble.
Apple tart with hazelnut crumble.

The recipes of memory

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