The featured photo above is from chef Stefania's veranda.
Cooking Class in Salerno
Ok, readers. If you’re even THINKING about making any of these recipes, try not to eat anything for at least 24 hours before. Yes, they are that dense. One portion of the lasagna alone is enough for two days of nutrition.
This is a cooking class I took several months ago when I first moved to Salerno. The chef, Stefania, gives lessons in her gorgeous home up in the hills. The pictures were taken from her veranda – a spectacular vista of the city and sea.
Stefania spoke only Italian, but in southern Italy, sometimes not a word needs to be spoken to get your point across. All body movements are not only acceptable for interpretation, but expected. I even find myself these days spontaneously shrugging my shoulders or putting my hands together in a loose praying pose to indicate…wtf ? …or something equivalent. It seems to work.
Navigating the language barrier
But back to Stefania. I already had some Italian (language) under my belt, but the rest of the students were new to the language of love (as in everyone loves Italian food). So, we were all trying out our new grammar on her. Some of the time she looked perplexed, like, maybe you should take out your dictionary before you open your mouth. But mostly, she was patient and good natured and was happy to continue the cooking class like a game of charades on a Friday night…putting her thumb and index finger together to indicate a teeny bit of salt, or a small amount of olive oil. Thankfully, we all received a copy of her recipes, to remove the guesswork. Before you reach for your phone to Google Translate, try reading through the recipes once to see if you can logically figure out the words. If you grew up in an Italian household you may find some of the words familiar to your ear.
Making Magic
Stefania told us the Lasagne Napoletane was for the big holidays, Easter and Christmas, and for special occasions like a birthday. We all pretty much know that lasagna in general is layers of noodles and cheese. But just when I thought her masterpiece was complete, there was another layer to go. For instance, my mom NEVER used hard boiled eggs-she was from Abruzzo. I’m sure she would make a face and have some snarky comment about the south and its different food customs and how her Abbruzzesse cuisine was clearly superior to anywhere else in Italy. Italians throughout the country are incredibly single minded when it comes to their regional specialties. Cream sauce from the north – horrors !! Who lives like that !
But I digress. Again. Not being much of a cook myself or a foodie for that matter, I wanted to get to the bottom line. Let’s just eat this monster and then quickly follow it up with an ant-acid already. However, when it was finished, we see her scurry back to her beautifully tiled kitchen and then return with more ingredients. We’re now going to make polpettine con sugo-meatballs with sauce-while we wait for the lasagna to cook. Mamma mia!! More food. Fortunately, they didn’t take too long to make or cook. And to keep the party moving forward there was wine to be drunk in between courses and scary quasi Italian to be spoken.
This was my very first cooking class in my whole life – and you can imagine how old I am. Ironically, I’m not a big foodie. Yes, crazy, I know. Why am I living here, you wonder. The quick answer is to learn the language and to travel throughout the country. I never expected my days to be filled with conversations about cibo, cibo, cibo (food, food, food). Constantly. I hear it being spoken on the sidewalks. “What are you making for lunch?” OR “What did you pay for that melanzane” OR “Oh that guy at the outdoor market is a crook” OR What are you making for dinner?” (this is while I’m eating lunch) OR “ You went to THAT restaurant for dinner? Hai mangiato bene li?” (did you eat well there) I’ve even heard very cool-looking teenagers arguing over the best pizza in town and which type of mozzarella do they use. And similar conversations about the best gelato. Nettuno, hands down, by the way, is THE best in town.
Let’s talk about food
So I started asking my newfound friends. “What’s with this obsession about food.” Can’t we please talk about something else?? One answer was, it’s a good conversation filler, like when you meet a new person and you need an opening line. “So what’s your favorite restaurant in town?” The answer could go on for hours, definitely into dinner at a restaurant they both agree on. My thought on this is that I live in a small city, and frankly, there’s not a whole lot going on that’s more interesting than food…to them anyway. But, to be honest, for me mangiare (to eat) is one of the verbs I know the best-most tenses anyway. So, it’s an easy topic of conversation for me to jump into. After that there’s always the unpredictable weather as a backup. (MUST practice centigrade numbers)
But, here’s the real reason they are obsessed with food. Because everything here is exquisite. It’s really hard to have a bad meal in a restaurant (although I’ve had a couple of boring dining experiences, but not bad food, just boring chefs). The food is fresh, organic, mostly grown nearby (although I’ve seen some labels on fruit ‘imported from Chile’. Shocking!! The cuisine is pure and uncomplicated. Much to my surprise, hardly any garlic is used. And spices are mostly limited to salt, pepper, some rosemary and oregano. It is believed that too many spices will muck up the natural flavors of the ingredients.
And another thing, after all the years of me complaining, ‘Why can’t they just put all the courses on the plate at the same time?’ I’ve finally learned that the Italians’ palates are so sensitized that they need to be able to savor, for instance, a perfectly roasted chicken thigh on a separate dish, (so sad looking all alone on the plate.) I have a friend, who, when he takes a first bite of something, leans back in his chair, eyes roll to the back of his head, simply to proclaim “La mia maccelleria e il migliore a Salerno.” (My butcher is the best in Salerno.) The chicken is not to be mixed with the zucchine that is lightly pan fried with olive oil and then mixed with aged balsamic vinegar. He’ll make similar comments on the verdure (veggies), in addition to thanking god for having been born in Italy.
This might explain why my grandfather, Liberatore (such a great name) would have all his food on one plate-part of the Americanization process-BUT, he would eat all his meat at one time, then veggies next, and so on. A real rebel.
The Italians are obsessed with food because they’re passionate, and they’re passionate because they’re Italian. It’s in their DNA. Very simple. They have no choice. And now that I’m a Dual Citizen of Italy, I realize I have to change my attitude about food if I’m going to continue living here. Duh. But I can’t do it overnight. I still want to talk about other topics…as soon as I can figure out what else the Italians like to talk about. Wish me luck.
Oh before I forget, did I mention the ‘to die for’ aranciata (rice balls) I ate in Naples yesterday? OMG, it’s starting. I’m obsessing about food. I have to go now and have my little cup of caffe (black, no milk, grazie). But first, let me cleanse my palate with a small glass of water. Attitude change…check !
Cooking Class in Salerno -- Recipes
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