Everything Sounds Better In A “Foreign”
Language
Okay, so you've heard a lot about the
new Italian place downtown and you've decided to have dinner there.
The atmosphere is nice, the service is friendly, and you're shown to
a lovely table. You are presented with the menu.......and the trouble
begins. There's a lot of Italian written there and the only word
you're really sure of is “spaghetti.” Uh-oh. You ask yourself,
“Should I order the fegati di coniglio arrosto con cime de
rapa?”
People like going out to Italian
restaurants with me. I can't count the number of times a dining
companion has turned to me, pointed at something on the menu and
asked, “What's that?” Many so-called “ethnic” eateries use
what English-speakers consider “foreign” words to describe their
fare. Oftentimes this is done out of overweening pretension, but most
of the time it's intended to impart authenticity. Sometimes it
backfires, as in the case of an Italian chef I read about who was
having trouble selling his crespelle, a
stuffed crepe dish. His customers hadn't a clue what a “crespelle”
was, so they ignored what I am
sure was a delicious creation in favor of safer alternatives.
When the chef caught on and changed the name to the less correct but
more familiar “cannelloni,” sales
immediately increased.
Somehow,
everything sounds more romantic or more exotic or just......better
when it's articulated in another language. If the extent of your
Italian vocabulary was limited to words found on Chef Boyardee
labels, I could smilingly curse you out in a string of truly vile
Italian and you would probably smile right back at me because it
would sound so pretty. (There's a t-shirt circulating around that
says, “Vaffanculo Is Italian For Have A Nice Day.” Trust me, it
isn't. If you don't know, Google it. And I really want one, BTW.) And when
it comes to menu entries, you gotta admit that fegati di
coniglio arrosto con cime de rapa sounds
a lot better than roasted rabbit livers with turnip greens, right? So
in the spirit of helping you steer clear of those possibly unwanted
rabbit livers, allow me to present a not-so-brief glossary of some of
the more common words and phrases you might encounter on an Italian
menu.
Let's
start with the meals themselves. Breakfast is prima
colazione or just colazione.
The lunch offerings will usually
be labeled pranzo, and
the dinner menu will be cena.
Now
for the menu headings. In English, menus are divided into categories
like “appetizers,” “soups,” “salads,” “entrees” or
“main courses,” “sides,” and “desserts.” Italian meals
are broken down into similar divisions: Appetizers are
antipasti, soups are either
zuppe or minestre,
and salads
are insalate. You'll
find pasta listed under primi or
primi piatti, indicating
its position as the first course. Pasta is never served
as a “side dish” in Italian dining. Besides pasta, primo
dishes often include risotto,
and the aforementioned zuppe.
What Americans would consider as the “main course” is actually
the second course, or secondo, usually
a type of meat dish. Be advised that secondi are often
served alone, without any vegetables or other sides. Italians
don't do a “meat and two” or “meat and three” with the main
protein and all the sides piled on one plate like Americans do.
To Italians the “sides” are the
contorni, a course
unto themselves. And
the dessert course is the dolce. You
might also find Italian food words like pane (bread),
bevande (drinks), and
caffè
(coffee) listed on the menu.
Sometimes a selection of aperitivi and
digestivi – before
and after dinner drinks – might show up in higher end places, while
merende (snacks) might
appear on less formal menus.
Okay, that takes
care of the broad, general categories. But what about the specific
descriptors for the menu items themselves? What do all those pretty
words that end in vowels really mean? Most restaurants either list
the dishes in Italian with an English translation following or
vice-versa. Some don't and if you don't read Italian, you can either
ask your server or take your chances. Or you can become familiar with
some of the more common words and phrases.
Let's
start with the way your dish is prepared. You know what “baked”
and “roasted” and “broiled” and “boiled” and other
cooking terms are in English, right? Here are some of their Italian
equivalents: affettato (sliced),
affumicato (smoked), al
forno (baked), al
vapore (steamed), alla
griglia (broiled), arrostito
(roasted), bollito/lesso
(boiled), brasato
(braised), caldo
(hot), con formaggio
(with cheese), cotto
(cooked), crudo (raw),
freddo (cold),
fritto/fritte (fried),
grigliato/arrostito alla griglia
(grilled), in camicia
or cotto in bianco
(poached), in umido
(stewed), in burro or
nel burro (in butter),
piccante (spicy), purè
(mashed – as in mashed
potatoes; purè di patate),
salsa di panna (cream
sauce), tostato
(toasted). You might see something in brodo, as
in tortellini in brodo. That's
Italian for “in broth.” And if something – usually a fish dish
– has been cooked in a paper or foil pouch, it'll show up on the
menu as in cartoccio.
As far
as what you might be eating, we'll begin with pasta. I'm not even
going to try to list all the varieties of pasta you might encounter
on an Italian menu. There are literally hundreds, ranging from
agnolotti to ziti.
You're probably familiar
with most pasta shapes as most restaurants feature only a handful of
the more common types. Long, round, thin strands of spaghetti;
long, flat linguine;
slightly wider ribbons of
fettuccine; short,
tubular penne, rigatoni, and
ziti; stuffed pillows
of ravioli or
tortellini – pretty
much everybody knows those. Even farfalle
(butterflies), cavatappi (corkscrews), “little ears” of
orecchiette, and the classic spiral fusili are
fairly easy to recognize. Sometimes the Italian name of
American staples may surprise you: good ol' elbow macaroni may be
written as maccheroni and
shells are often referred to by their Italian name,
conchiglie.
You
may not be as familiar, however, with many of the sauces with which
the numerous pasta shapes are paired. There are a million of those,
too, so I'll just describe a few of the most ubiquitous preparations.
Pomodoro is
a simple and yet very flavorful smooth-textured tomato sauce.
Marinara is a little
chunkier tomato-based sauce that, because it is usually cooked longer
and may contain more ingredients, is generally a bit thicker and
richer. And please, please, please don't
massacre the pronunciation; I don't care how many times you hear it
pronounced “mare-uh-NARE-uh”, the proper pronunciation is
“mah-ree-NAH-rah”. And roll those “r”s, baby. Diavolo
or “devil” sauce is a
spicier tomato-based sauce. Bolognese does
not rhyme with “mayonnaise.” It is properly pronounced
“boh-loh-NYAYS-eh and when properly prepared, it is comprised of a
combination of ground meats (beef and usually veal and/or pork),
tomatoes, celery, carrots, red wine, and a touch of dairy such as
milk or cream. Puttanesca is
a mid-20th
century Neapolitan sauce that usually contains tomatoes, anchovies,
olives, capers, and garlic. Carbonara is
a sauce formed by pouring a combination of eggs, cheese, and some
form of ham/bacon over hot pasta. Quattro formaggi is
literally a “four cheese” sauce, usually mozzarella, provolone,
Parmigiano, and Romano, but may be made up of any four cheeses at
hand.
One “sauce” you
will not find on an authentic Italian menu is “Alfredo.” That's
because “Alfredo sauce” does not exist in real Italian cuisine.
Roman restaurateur Alfredo di Lelio used to make a variation of a
common Italian butter and cheese pasta; he just increased the amounts
of butter and cheese and blended them with a touch of the starchy
water in which the pasta was cooked. Americans got hold of the
concept, added cream, and called it a “sauce.”
The
next course on the menu – the secondi – is
meat, poultry, or fish, the Italian words for which are carne,
pollame, and pesce.
First up, beef.
The
Italian word for beef is manzo, so
an order of roast beef, for instance, would be arrosto di
manzo. Steak is a little
different; bistecca.
Bistecca alla Fiorentina,
a thick Porterhouse cut cooked and served in a Tuscan style, is
probably the most common example. The Italian word for veal is
vitello, most commonly
found on American menus as “Vitello Parmigiana”
or “Veal Parmesan.” And you'll only find it that way on American
menus because the dish doesn't exist in Italy.
Pork
is maiale. A pork
cutlet would be cotoletta di maiale and
a pork chop would be braciola di maiale. Most
Italian sausages (salsicce) and
cured meats (salumi) are
made from pork. These include traditional salami,
mortadella, coppa, and
soppressata. Italian
ham is called prosciutto and
bacon is pancetta. Occasionally
you'll find something called “speck” on an Italian menu.
This is a denser ham usually produced in Italy's northern-most
region, Alto Adige. Speck is cured with spices like juniper and bay
leaves and then smoked and aged for a deeper, richer flavor.
Chicken
is pollo; and it's
“POHL-loh” in Italian, not “POY-yoh” as it is in Spanish. And
while we're on the subject of chickens, you'll find the eggs they
produce listed as uova. You
don't often see turkey on an Italian menu, but when you do, it's
tacchino.
As
noted, pesce is
Italian for fish; specific
kinds of fish include salmone (salmon),
trota (trout), tonno
(tuna), and branzino
(sea bass). And, of course,
l'acciuga (anchovy).
The
general Italian term for seafood is frutti di mare,
literally “fruits of the sea.”
Specific seafoods include vongole (clams),
l'aragosta (lobster),
cozze (mussels),
gamberi (shrimp),
ostriche (oysters),
and calamari (squid).
Scampi is a whole
'nuther animal. It's actually a type of lobster or prawn. It is
sometimes called a Norway lobster, a Dublin Bay prawn, or a
langoustine. But it's not a shrimp except in America where
“shrimp scampi” usually refers to shrimp cooked in garlic, lemon,
and butter.
Other
meats you might find on Italian menus include coniglio
(rabbit), anatra
(duck), and fegato
(liver).
A
contorno is literally
a boundary, a margin, or a side. In culinary terms, it's a side dish.
Contorni are usually
vegetables (which, in themselves, are verdure)
and may include: aglio (garlic), asparago
(asparagus), carciofo (artichoke), carote (carrots),
cavolo (cabbage or
kale), cavolo nero
(black cabbage), cetriolo (cucumber),
cipolla (onion),
fagioli (beans),
fagiolini (green
beans), funghi (mushrooms),
grano (corn; sometimes
also written as mais),
lattuga (lettuce),
olive (olives), patate
(potatoes), piselli
(peas), pomodori
(tomatoes), prezzemolo
(parsley), sedano
(celery), and zucchine
(zucchini). One vegetable which
needs no translation is broccoli; it's the same in either
language.
The dolce or
dessert course can be a little confusing because cakes, pies, and
tarts are all called torte. Cookies
are biscotti and the
Italian version of ice cream is gelato. Vanilla,
chocolate, and caramel are vaniglia, cioccolato, and
caramello, respectively.
And even though dolce translates
literally to “sweets,” most Italian desserts are more fruity,
usually consisting of albicocche (apricots),
arance (oranges),
banane (bananas),
ciliegie (cherries),
fragole (strawberries),
lamponi (raspberries),
mele (apples), pesche
(peaches), pompelmo
(grapefruit), or uva
(grapes). Top them with a little
zucchero (sugar) or
panna montata (whipped
cream) for a delicious dessert.
Wash
everything down with bevande, the
broad term for “drinks.” You can have una tazza di
caffè o tè (a cup of coffee or
tea), un bicchiere o una bottiglia di birra o vino (a
glass or bottle of beer or wine), or you can just have some aqua
(water). Gassato o
lisce (carbonated or smooth) is
up to you. Soda has gained popularity and is usually identified by
brand. Succo (juice)
may be available and latte (milk)
is sometimes an option. If you like your drinks without ice, order
senza ghiaccio.
Okay,
I didn't get around to the cime di rapa. And
I didn't mention ravanelli (radishes)
either. And
zucche! How could I forget about
pumpkins? And I failed to delve into the “delicacies” like cieche
fritte (fried baby eels),
lampredotto (boiled
cow's stomach), or finanziera (a
dish containing a rooster's wattle, cockscomb, and testicles cooked
with vegetables) because you're not likely to encounter them much
outside their native regions. No, I think if you commit everything
I've written to memory (or at least bookmark the page on your device)
you'll be ready to sally fearlessly forth to that new Italian place
downtown without concern for undue embarrassment or potential gastric
disaster.
Buona fortuna e buon appetito!
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