Italian Food Archives - Gray Matters

Best Ever Olive Oil Cake Recipe

I spent four hours climbing, cutting, and prying an invasive vine that threatens to overtake a vulnerable olive tree that I’ve named Ercole. Our eastern olive grove at Casa Pace e Gioia is older and on the receiving end of the breezes that cool in the summer but freeze in the winter. I broke a pair of garden clippers when I really should have used a crowbar. He’s showing improvement but I still have work to do, with better tools.

Trimming the dead branches of a living olive tree is meditative. I think it regenerates us both. I know it does me. And also, I want to boost our olive production as we have increased our olive oil consumption, a benefit especially for my lactose-intolerant husband. Fried eggs, hash browns, fish, chicken, you name it, we use olive oil to make almost everything.

I tried and tweaked several olive oil cake recipes to come up with this one, adapted from Bon Appetit magazine. My daughter calls it sad cake, because that’s how you feel when it’s gone. It’s perfect for breakfast and dessert, and it’s not difficult to make! It lasts for days covered loosely. Even my cat loves it.

Buon appetito!

Best Ever Olive Oil Cake Recipe

Ingredients:

1 ¼ cups extra-virgin olive oil, plus more for the pan
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar, plus more
2 cups cake flour
⅓ cup fine-ground cornmeal
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon kosher salt
3 tablespoons Grand Marnier, Amaretto, or Cointreau
Zest of one lemon
3 tablespoons of fresh lemon juice
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3 large eggs

Preheat oven to 400°. Drizzle bottom and sides of a 9” springform pan with oil and use your fingers to coat. Line the bottom with a round of parchment paper and smooth to eliminate air bubbles. Coat parchment with more oil. Generously sprinkle pan with sugar and tilt to coat in an even layer; tap out excess.

Whisk cake flour, cornmeal, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a medium bowl to combine and eliminate any lumps. Stir together Grand Marnier, lemon juice, and vanilla in a small bowl.

Using an electric mixer on high speed (use whisk attachment if working with a stand mixer), beat eggs, lemon zest, and 1 cup plus 2 Tablespoons sugar in a large bowl until mixture is very light, thick, pale, and falls off the whisk or beaters in a slowly dissolving ribbon, about 3 minutes if using a stand mixer and about 5 minutes if using a hand mixer. With mixer still on high speed, gradually stream in 1 ¼ cups olive oil and beat until incorporated and mixture is even thicker.

Reduce mixer speed to low and add dry ingredients in 3 additions, alternating with Grand Marnier mixture in 2 additions, beginning and ending with dry ingredients. Fold batter several times with a large rubber spatula, making sure to scrape the bottom and sides of bowl. Scrape batter into prepared pan, smooth top, and sprinkle with more sugar.

Place cake in oven and immediately reduce oven temperature to 350°. Bake until top is golden brown, center is firm to the touch, and a tester inserted into the center comes out clean, 40-50 minutes. Transfer pan to a wire rack and let cake cool in pan 15 minutes. Run a thin knife around edges of cake and remove ring from pan. Slide onto rack and let cool completely. Let sit covered at room temperature after it is cool.

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Recipes from my 8.338 km Kitchen

Le Marche is hidden Italy—its cuisine is a secret treasure.

Le Marche’s patchwork farmland is backdropped by the Sibillini Mountains

Le Marche’s locally focused cuisine is inspired by the abundant fresh fish from the Adriatic; the crops that grow and the animals that graze in the midland hills; and the wild game, nuts, and truffles that thrive in the mountains. The 0 km movement pervades Le Marche, although the region has eaten locally long before it became trendy.

If Le Marche was famous for its food, it would be thanks to typical dishes like the twelve-layered Vincisgrassi lasagna, stuffed and fried Ascolane olives, the spreadable sausage ciauscolo, pork-stuffed rabbit, or wild boar ragù. These dishes are best enjoyed in situ, and preferably, with someone else doing the work.

However, I have found a few typical Marchigiane recipes, made with readily available ingredients, that are so easy to make even I succeeded in bringing a little bit of Le Marche to my Florida table. Until your next trip to Le Marche, enjoy these recipes from my 8,338 km kitchen.

I first tasted the simple goodness of Stracciatella soup at Picciolo di Rame and combined recipes to come up with this one. It looks weird at first, but after stirring the egg drop, it literally falls into place.

Stracciatella Soup

6 cups high quality, organic chicken stock
2 large eggs
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. (You could substitute Pecorino.) Plus additional to serve.
2 Tablespoons breadcrumbs
½ teaspoon grated nutmeg
Squeeze of fresh lemon to taste (optional)
Freshly ground black pepper

Bring the chicken stock to a boil in a saucepan.
Beat the eggs, Parmigiano, breadcrumbs, and nutmeg in a bowl.
When the stock boils, reduce heat to a simmer.
Drizzle the egg mixture into the broth. It will float to the top. Give it a second to thicken.
Stir it up with a fork.
Serve in warmed bowls, add a spritz of lemon if desired, and top with more cheese and black pepper.

I served “Le Marche Risotto” at a dinner party and it was a hit with everyone. Its savory taste belies the ease to prepare, and the unexpected flavor combination is fancy-restaurant worthy. I found this recipe in the only English cookbook I’ve found about Le Marche: Cucina of Le Marche, by Fabio Trabocchi, who was born there. In the book, Chef Fabio writes that what makes this recipe Marchigiana is the cinnamon that: “reflects the long relationship Le Marche had with seafarers of North Africa and the spice traders of the East.” The recipe makes a huge portion. While it reheats very well, it’s easily halved. Pair it with a Verdicchio.

Le Marche Risotto

12 cups Chicken Stock, or as needed
12 Tablespoons (6 oz) unsalted butter, softened
¼ cup finely chopped onion
2 ¼ cups Carnaroli or Arborio rice
Kosher salt
1-¼ cups dry white wine, such as Verdicchio or Pinot Grigio
¼ cup grated mild Pecorino, plus more for serving
¼ cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
¼ teaspoon ground cinnamon
Freshly ground black pepper
1 lemon

In a medium saucepan, bring the chicken stock to a boil. Reduce the heat and keep at a low simmer.

Melt 2 tablespoons of the butter in a large sauté pan over medium heat. Add the onion, reduce the heat to low, and cook slowly, stirring occasionally with a wooden spatula or spoon, until the onion is soft and translucent but has not browned. Add the rice and 1 teaspoon of salt and stir for 1 to 2 minutes to toast the rice. Add the white wine; increase the heat, and simmer, stirring constantly, until the pan is almost dry.

Ladle ½ cup of the simmering stock into the rice and stir constantly until it is completely absorbed. Continue cooking and adding stock ½ cup at a time, stirring constantly and letting each addition be absorbed before adding the next. After about 16 to 18 minutes, you should have added about 10 cups stock, the rice should be al dente, and the risotto should be quite thick and creamy. If the rice is not yet al dente, add more stock and continue cooking as necessary.

Remove the pan from the heat and gently fold in both cheeses, the remaining 10 tablespoons of butter, and the cinnamon. The risotto should be soft and creamy. If it seems too thick, add more stock a spoonful or so at a time. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Using a Microplane or other fine grater, lightly grate lemon zest over each plate. Top with the risotto, finish with grated pecorino, and serve immediately.

Giuseppe is Chef Fabio’s father and his grilled pork chop recipe is a crowd pleaser. In my travels throughout Italy, I have never seen more grilled food than in Le Marche. It’s inherent in their culture and many restaurants are designed around an open grill. Serve the grilled pork chops with a Rosso Piceno wine.

Giuseppe’s Grilled Pork Chops

6 pork chops, 8-12 ounces each, preferably organic
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 orange
Grated zest of 1 lemon
3 garlic cloves, skin left on, crushed
Five 4-inch sprigs rosemary, leaves removed and finely chopped
3 whole cloves
¼ cup, plus 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

Wipe the pork chops dry and lightly season with salt and pepper. Grate the zest of the orange into a small bowl. Add the lemon zest, garlic, rosemary, cloves, and olive oil. Mix well.

Put the pork chops in a baking dish and pour the marinade over them. Turn to coat, rubbing the marinade into the meat. Squeeze the juice of the orange over the chops, turn again, and cover tightly. (You can also marinate the chops in a resealable plastic bag.) Refrigerate overnight.

Remove the pork chops from the marinade and pat dry with paper towels. Discard the marinade. Place on a plate and let stand at room temperature for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, prepare a charcoal fire or preheat a gas grill. Or preheat a cast-iron grill pan over medium-high heat.

Grill the pork chops for about 4 minutes per side, or until medium to medium-rare (they will continue to cook as they rest). Transfer the chops to a tray and let them rest for 10 minutes in a warm place before serving.

Giuseppe's grilled pork chop — Giuseppe’s Grilled Pork Chop

If you missed my post about La Cucina Marchigiana, read it here.
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La Cucina Marchigiana

Silvano came to our table and told us what was in the soup that my husband Matt and I were devouring. I mentally double-checked my translation. Chicken broth, eggs, Parmigiano, nutmeg, bread crumbs, with a little lemon. I thought I had missed an ingredient. Surely a soup this savory needed something else.

“Bread crumbs,” Silvano said in English, grinning as he raised his eyebrows.

Sì, sì, I had it right.

“An ancient recipe, from medieval times, typical of this region. It was served at wedding lunch celebrations. Stracciatella,” he said it slowly. Stra-chee-a-telllll-a.

We were eating at Picciolo di Rame, a restaurant that everyone in Le Marche had insisted we try. In a 16^thcentury former olive oil mill, in a 13^thcentury castle, we were surrounded by candlelight, stone walls, and the convivial conversation of the twenty-three other diners, all of us seated on three-legged stools.

Cuisine in Le Marche is as diverse as its geography. The region resembles an apostrophe—its five provinces curl around Ancona’s peninsula along the Adriatic Sea. (Ankon means ‘elbow’ in Greek.) In the eastern coastal areas, fresh seafood abounds. In the mountainous west, wild boar, game, and truffles dominate. The rolling agricultural hills in the center provide wheat, olives, poultry, pigs, produce, sheep, cattle, and more.

Picciolo di Rame is in the medieval walled hamlet of Vestignano, not far from the Sibillini Mountains. Silvano’s mother oversees the kitchen while he hosts and explains each of the 12 tasting courses typical of the Macerata province our Italian home is in. More than a memorable meal, we were also getting a local history lesson.

A few courses later we learned from Silvano that centuries before pasta alla carbonara debuted in the 1950s, Marchigiani shepherds ate pasta dei pastori alla Griscia. Shepherds on their transhumance carried guanciale (cured bacon), oil or lard, pasta, pecorino cheese, and salt. With that, they made something very similar in flavor and texture to carbonara, but without the eggs—they do not travel well.

Le Marche’s mezzadria (sharecropping) heritage that endured until the 1960s influences La Cucina Marchigiana today. Small farms dominated the landscape; one hectare (2.47 acres) per family member was the norm. The sharecroppers gave half of the farm’s proceeds to the landowner as rent. The mezzadri eked out a living with frugality, resourcefulness, and hard work. Livestock was well fed to enhance their flavor, and nothing was wasted.

Vincisgrassi is a multi-layered lasagna made with thin pasta sheets, any variety of meats, and is molto famoso in Macerata province. Labor-intensive and time consuming, it was served only on special occasions. Our eighth course at Picciolo di Rame was a harvest version, traditionally enjoyed after the wheat threshing was complete. Usually the dish is prepared the evening before and rests overnight to allow the flavors to blend. It is much lighter than American lasagne; when the chef brought out more from the kitchen, we took a second helping. (It was the crunchy corner! We could not refuse.)

In the mezzadria days, the vergara, the woman of the house, collected wild herbs daily and prepared a salad with olive oil. Foraging is not a new trend in Le Marche, it has long been a way of life. One morning, I noticed a car parked down by our grapevines. An older man with a white plastic bag was snipping something that grew wild on our property. Rather than be concerned, I wanted to ask him what it was we had worth taking. But we had an appointment; my asking in broken Italian would have taken more than the few minutes I had to spare.

A parked car along a road in the middle of nowhere is a clue you’ve found a good foraging spot. Look around and someone is collecting wild berries, herbs, nuts, beans, vegetables, or what looks like a weed, but isn’t. I hear it gets competitive.

Our tenth course was fried lamb chops, fried zucchini, and fried leeks. “Fried foods were always served at weddings.” Silvano told us. “The housewives said that frying anything made it taste good.” Fried Olive Ascolane are ubiquitous in our area, and deservedly so. Fried cream is as good as it sounds, and is a delicious starter or dessert. Fritto misto in Le Marche is incomparable to anywhere else.

The Maceratese do not finish their meals with a cheese course but with ciabuscolo, a finely ground pork salame so soft it is spreadable on bread. We managed to find room to indulge.

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Use this Website and Experience Authentic Italy

Nicola deftly slid the Margherita pizza from the pizza peel into his large wood-fired oven. Flames danced and crackled. The dough crusted and browned. Cheese melted and blistered. Ninety seconds after he put the pizza in, Nicola took it out and slipped it, still steaming, on a plate.

Nicola’s wife Andreina cut through the crispy crust twice, making four quarters. The cheese melted back together and dripped on the plate.

“Mangia! Mangia!” She said to my husband Matt and me, “Buon appetito!”

We were in their expansive garden in Minori, a village ten minutes south of Amalfi and a world away from the tourist hordes there. Nicola and Andreina’s hillside terraces overlook the dramatic coastline but we did not come for the view. We came to learn how to make pizza.

Months earlier, I had Googled “pizza making class in Amalfi.” One result asked: Would you like to get your hands dirty with flour and prepare your very own pizza? Sì, certo. Clicking through I found BonAppetour, “A community marketplace that connects travelers with local home chefs for a unique home-dining experience, anywhere around the world.” Andreina and Nicola were available the one day we were in Amalfi while on a cruise.

View of the Adriatic from Sotto i Limoni

Their host name, Sotto i Limoni, (Under the Lemons) refers to their large lemon grove, under which they also grow vegetables. Andreina greeted us with fresh lemonade when we arrived. After a brief visit in their huge outdoor kitchen, the four of us donned aprons and got our hands dirty making pizza dough.

Nicola then gave us a tour of their many-leveled garden as we picked tomatoes, peppers, onions, and basil for our pizzas. Unruly grapevines grew on overhead trellises. Walnuts in their shells hung in bags under walnut trees. Nicola cracked some with a hammer on a wood stump and handed them to us to eat.

“You taste the difference,” he said as we tried both, “this year’s walnuts taste bitter. They are not ready yet.” He set some of last year’s walnuts aside for our pizza.

We sliced fresh mozzarella cheese, pinched sausage bundles, and cut tomatoes for toppings. We squished San Marzano tomatoes (they are the best) to make pizza sauce.

In Nicola’s secret wine cellar he poured me a lovely white wine from the tank. He makes both red and a white using a wood press. Big plastic tubs lined the shelves above. Empty bottles stacked up waited to be filled. He smiled and downplayed his wine-making skills.

Back on the patio, Nicola taught us how to stretch out pizza dough. He pressed from the center and let the dough hang over the counter. “You could toss it,” he said, “but then you might drop it.”

He made a Margherita first, my favorite. I ate a piece watching Matt stretch his dough. He made sausage, tomatoes, and peppers. My turn came and Nicola intervened to help my lost cause. It eventually became a white pizza with gorgonzola cheese and walnuts topped with lettuce. My new favorite. Nicola kept making pizzas, finishing with a spectacular Nutella dessert pizza drizzled with limoncello.

The four of us finally sat down together to eat, the three of us having nibbled while Nicola was making pizzas. We drank Nicola’s homemade wine. Their fifteen year old son Daniele returned from school and joined us, eating pizza as only a young man could. He opened a bottle of Prosecco for us. “Auguri!” (best wishes)

Andreina brought out a delicious homemade lemon tart we finished in minutes despite all the pizzas we’d eaten. Nicola poured us a Cicerenella, a local herbal liquor made with anise and orange flavors.

Margherita pizza 47 seconds after the photo above

“Aijz, aijz, aijz,” they taught us to say in dialect as we raised our glasses together.“Avasc, avasc, avasc,” we repeated as we lowered them.
“Accost, accost, accost,” we put them together.
“A salùt nost!” we toasted and drank.

Their homemade limoncello came last. Made with the famous and geographically protected Limone Costa d’Amalfi, it was the best we’ve ever had—and we’ve had a lot.

Five hours after we arrived, we left Nicola, Andreina, and Daniele, knowing how to make pizza. And we felt like we had spent the afternoon with good friends.

Try BonAppetour and save $10 on your next home-dining experience. (Full disclosure, I’ll get a $10 credit too!)

The Best Souvenirs are not Things

In Umbria, the green heart of Italy, my husband Matt and I took a cooking class with Wendy Aulsebrook at the Antonelli San Marco winery. We learned how to hand-roll fresh pasta dough, flip a frittata without making a mess, and how easy it is to roast a delicious chicken. We brought Wendy’s cookbook of Umbrian recipes and techniques home with us.

Italians eat frittate all day long, warm when freshly cooked, then at room temperature. Since we’ve returned from Umbria, I make frittate weekly, using any leftover vegetables and herbs I have on hand. It’s an easy dinner when nothing else is thawed, and a treat for breakfast. Every time I put my plastic cutting board on the frittata pan, flip it over, and slide the frittata cleanly back in the pan, I think of Wendy, our cooking class, and Umbria.

A few weeks ago, I looked through Wendy’s cookbook for a dessert recipe. Crostata di Filomena, (Filomena’s Jam Tart) looked not-terribly-difficult. After mixing flour, eggs, olive oil, vanilla, baking powder, lemon zest, and sugar by hand to make dough, I kneaded the mess until it became a mass. I rolled it on my pastry board for what felt like a good workout, and then stretched the dough in my tart pan. I spooned organic blueberry jam from Costco atop the crust. Matt helped me roll out and cut the decoration strips for the top. Thirty minutes later, I took the tart out of the oven and tried a tiny slice to make sure we could serve it to our company.

Filomena’s Jam Tart was half-eaten by the time I thought to take a picture of it. It was crisp, flavorful, all natural, and not too sweet. The leftovers did not last long. If we had not taken Wendy’s class, I might have seen a recipe like this and thought it was too much effort. Who knew there was a right way to roll dough? Well, probably many people. But I was not one of them until we traveled to Umbria and took a cooking class.

I wear my Antonelli souvenir apron when I cook, but the memento that means more to me is my old towel that Wendy taught us to hang from our apron strings, or the emails I still exchange with her. I dry my hands on the towel and think of the sun setting over the vineyards. My favorite keepsakes are things I have learned because I’ve traveled, the imprint my journeys have made on my personality, and the friends I’ve made along the way.

Wendy’s Onion frittata recipe:

2 small white onions
6 eggs, preferably organic free-range
2 Tablespoons (40 g) freshly grated Parmesan cheese. (Please do not use the green can.)
Salt & Pepper to taste
1 Tablespoon (20 ml) Extra Virgin Olive Oil

(Can substitute onions for vegetables such as: tomatoes, bell peppers, zucchini, mushrooms, potatoes, asparagus, peas, artichokes)

Prepare ingredients:
Peel onions, slice in half lengthwise and then slice finely.
Break eggs into a medium-sized bowl and beat with a fork for 1 minute.
Add parmesan, salt and pepper; beat.

Cook frittata:
Heat olive oil in a 9” or 24 cm pan.
Fry the onions over medium heat for 2-3 minutes, stirring with a wooden spoon. Then add enough water just to cover the base of the pan. This ensures the onions are well cooked and prevents them from burning.
Continue to sauté until the onions are soft and golden, about 5-10 minutes.

Remove pan from heat and add the beaten eggs.
Return pan to heat and cook over a medium heat stirring gently with a wooden spoon for 5-6 minutes, or until set. (I use a small spatula.)
Loosen the frittata from pan by running a spatula around its edge.

Remove pan from heat, place a large flat plate or flat lid over pan, and hold the two together firmly and turn over in one swift movement.

Return pan to heat; slide frittata into pan so that the cooked side remains uppermost. Cook for a further 5 minutes.

To serve: Transfer the frittata onto a serving plate and serve either hot or at room temperature.

Frittata with aromatic herbs: substitute the onion with 1 clove or garlic, peeled and finely sliced, and 1 sprig each of the following herbs: basil, parsley, thyme, and marjoram. Wash, dry, and finely chop the leaves of the herbs. Add garlic and herbs to the beaten eggs.
Cook according to recipe above.

Buon appetito!