June (2012) Fun Food Holidays

June is bustin' out all over......and you will be, too, if you celebrate all the month has to offer.

I have no earthly idea why the first month of summer is also dedicated to a food usually associated with fall and winter holidays, but there it is; June is National Turkey Lover's Month, so gobble some up.

June is also the month in which we celebrate steakhouses, seafood, fresh fruits and vegetables, papaya, iced tea, and candy. And, of course, it is also National Dairy Month.

We start the month with a tribute to hazelnut cake on June 1 and then quickly follow that with a helping of rocky road ice cream on its nationally dedicated day of June 2.

Whether hazelnut or any other variety, you have break some eggs to make a cake, so get cracking on June 3, National Egg Day.

June 4 is a big food day, combining cheese, frozen yogurt, and cognac all on the same day, but probably not on the same plate.

Get a jump on the Christmas season and begin building your gingerbread house on June 5, National Gingerbread Day.

What is it with cake and ice cream this month? June 6 is National Applesauce Cake Day and June 7 is National Chocolate Ice Cream Day.

Grab a jelly-filled doughnut in honor of its special day on June 8 and follow it up with a celebratory slice of strawberry-rhubarb pie on June 9.

I planted same basil the other day. It's doing well, but I don't think it will be ready to harvest in time for Herbs and Spice Day on June 10. But that won't keep me from enjoying some iced tea or a black cow, companion beverages that share the day. And in case you didn't know, a “black cow” is made not with Angus beef, but with root beer and ice cream.

More cake! National German Chocolate Cake Day is June 11 and the 12^th is a good day to grab some peanut butter cookies.

Okay, I'm serious about this one. June 13 is Kitchen Klutzes of America Day and you can even send your favorite kitchen klutz an online greeting card at either http://www.bluemountain.com/ecards/june/on-this-date/pn/6-13-kitchen-klutzes-of-america-day/card-3004600 or http://www.americangreetings.com/ecards/celebrate-the-date/6-13-kitchen-klutzes-of-america-day-ecard/pn/3004600. Really.

Haul out your American flag for Flag Day on June 14 and celebrate with a slice or two of strawberry shortcake because it's also National Strawberry Shortcake Day.

Enjoy some lobster on June 15, some fudge on June 16, and on June 17 you get the chance to make your mama happy. It's Eat All Your Veggies Day. And as a reward for eating your veggies, chow down on apple strudel, also recognized on that day.

International Picnic Day is June 18. Making sure your picnic basket contains a cherry tart will enable you to cover two bases at once.

How about a nice dry martini? One would certainly be in order on its designated day, June 19.

A couple of delicious summer treats mark the beginning of summer; the vanilla milkshake is feted as summer begins on June 20 and peaches and cream are the order of the day for June 21.

Onion rings and chocolate eclairs share the day on June 22. Probably not in the same sitting, though.

Enjoy some pecan sandies on June 23 and some pralines on the 24^th.

Strawberry parfait rules the day on June 25, then the next few days belong to pudding; chocolate pudding on the 26^th, Indian pudding on the 27^th, and tapioca on the 28^th. Well, the 28^th is not technically a celebration of tapioca pudding, just tapioca.

Some almond buttercrunch is called for on June 29 and cap off June on the last day of the month by grabbing an ice cream soda in celebration of National Ice Cream Soda Day.

Happy summertime eating!

Victorinox Forschner Fibrox: Your Best Bet For A Good Kitchen Knife

"A Sharp Knife Is a Safe Knife"

Just about anybody you ask will tell you the most important piece of equipment in your kitchen is a good kitchen knife. And they'll likely tell you that you don't need a fifty-piece set. Three knives will

generally do; a chef's knife, a utility knife, and a paring knife. Most will also throw in a serrated knife for cutting breads and cakes and such. From there on you're pretty much on your own as to selecting the best knives for your needs.

At this point, I could go into great detail about metallurgy and composition and carbon content in the steel and angles and degrees of honing a knife's edge and lots of other arcania that most people don't care about, don't need to know, and quickly forget anyway. I'm generally pretty good at overwriting like that. But not this time. Basically, you want a sharp knife that's going to stay sharp and last a long time.

Don't walk, run from the sets you find displayed on discount retailer's shelves. Anything that comes in sets of ten or twelve or eighteen or more pieces complete with a nifty knife block for less than twenty dollars is a cheap disaster waiting to happen. The blades will warp and break, the handles will degrade and/or come off and the edges will dull quickly and stay that way. And there is nothing, absolutely nothing more dangerous in a kitchen than a dull knife.

I always carry my knives with me when I'm invited to places where I know there's a better than even chance I'll be cooking something. I got caught unprepared at a friend's house once and, after observing my cursing attempt to cut a potato with a knife I nearly had to stand on, my friend went straight to Walmart and came home proudly displaying a brand new set of knives. It was a twenty-three piece Mainstays (Walmart's store brand) set in a “natural” block. He had shelled out twenty bucks for it. I asked him for another twenty dollar bill, which I took and promptly set on fire. Not really, but I might as well have done so, and so might he. Half the “23-piece” set was knives. The remainder were spatulas and measuring cups and such. So, allowing that the “natural” block and the cheap plastic accessories might have been worth four dollars, he paid about sixteen bucks for twelve knives. That's a buck-thirty-three per knife. I ask you, what kind of quality do you really think you're getting?

And don't be fooled by the “celebrity chef” products you see in a lot of stores. Paula Deen's got her name and face on everything. So do Rachael Ray and Bobby Flay and Mario Batali and Marcus Samuelsson and Emeril and Wolfgang and a host of others. Most of these knives are manufactured by companies like Farberware, the same folks who make the twenty-dollar sets you see at Walmart, except they stamp a celebrity's name on them and retail them for four or five times as much.

At the other end of the spectrum are the prestigious “name” brands. Wusthof, Henckels, Global. These are fine knives, the highest quality German and Japanese steel and the best craftsmanship on the market. And you'll lay out as much for one knife as you will for a hundred or more of the store-brand knives from Walmart. Is it worth it? Probably. If properly taken care of, it will likely be the last knife you'll ever buy. They're that good. But I can't afford a set of them. I can't even afford the three or four recommended ones. Most people can't without a bank loan. A set of the three basic knives from Wusthof is going to set you back......oh, somewhere around three hundred dollars. Or about fifteen of the “23-piece” sets from Wally World.

No, what you need is a work horse. Take a peek in the kitchen of your favorite local restaurant. You definitely won't see any “Mainstays” or “Farberware” or “Paula Deen” knives on that magnetic strip over the prep area. And you probably won't see many Wusthofs or Globals there, either. But you might see my favorite knife; the Victorinox Forschner Fibrox.

Crafted in Switzerland by the people who have been making Swiss Army knives for more than a century, this knife is a food service industry standard and staple. Razor sharp, lightweight, perfectly balanced with a comfortable non-slip Fibrox grip, this is a piece of professional grade kitchen equipment anybody can afford for home use. The 8-inch chef's knife – my favorite – generally retails in stores for about thirty dollars, and you can get some great deals online at Amazon and other sources. My wife finds the 8-inch knife to be a little big for her hand, so I bought her the 6-inch model and now she won't use anything else. If you're a reader of Cook's Illustrated or Cook's Country magazines or a fan of their America's Test Kitchen TV programs, the Victorinox is the knife they use and recommend as their “Best Value.” If it can stand up to the hard use of the test kitchens and of your neighborhood restaurant kitchens, it'll do a great job in yours.

Besides the 6 and 8-inch models, there are 10 and 12-inch chef's knives. And the aforementioned utility, paring, and serrated bread knives are also available, all at very affordable prices.

A final word of advice: don't buy any knife until you've held it in your hand. The best knife for your kitchen is the one that's best for you. I fell in love with my Victorinox after I went to several kitchen stores and held all the Globals and Henckels and Wusthofs and all the others they had to offer. Some of the ones I expected to like I found to be unsuited to my needs. The handle was uncomfortable, the balance was off, the weight was too heavy or too light. But that surprising little Victorinox turned out to be the Goldilocks of kitchen knives; everything about it was just right.

As I said, Victorinox Forschner Fibrox knives are widely available at restaurant supply stores as well as at retailers like Bed, Bath and Beyond and local culinary shops. If you don't have any of those nearby, just enter the name in your search engine and take your pick from among the dozens of results. But I really do recommend laying hands on one first. It's a great knife for the test kitchen chefs and for your neighborhood restaurant cooks and for my wife and me, but your mileage may vary.

Regardless of whether you choose my favorite knife or go all out on some of the high-end knives, please don't succumb to the temptation of cheap, bargain-basement, “value” knives. They can hurt you.....literally. And after replacing them every couple of years, you'll wind up spending as much as you would on a decent knife in the first place. The second favorite knives in my kitchen are more than fifty years old. They are from a set of Ecko Eterna knives my mother got before I was born. They've been well cared for. They've never rattled around loose in a drawer and they've never seen the inside of a dishwasher. Their double-riveted hardwood handles are still in good shape and they retain an edge that will go up cut-for-cut against any of the newer, more pricey slicers and dicers on the market. Old-fashioned quality counts, cheap is cheap, and you get what you pay for.

An old Portuguese proverb says, “A bad knife cuts one's finger instead of the stick.” Substitute “steak” for “stick” and bear that in mind when shopping for kitchen knives.

Forget "Abbondanza." Eat Like A Real Italian

The other night, I heard a chef on Food Network's “Chopped” make a reference to the Italian concept of abbondanza. Steaming piles of pasta swimming in lakes of rich sauces. Mounds of meatballs. Acres of pizza boasting tons of toppings. This is true Italian dining. This is real Italian culture. This is abbondanza!

This is also total fantasy. Oh, the word abbondanza is Italian, all right, and it means “abundance.” But in reality it's just a word, not a philosophy. Italians simply don't eat like that.

The image of a rotund Italian mama smiling beneficently as she serves up a washtub of spaghetti and meatballs to her hungry family is pure Madison Avenue, based not on true Italian culinary traditions, but on those established on New World shores by Italian immigrants.

If you don't know that spaghetti and meatballs is not an Italian dish, you should. It's an Italian-American dish. Don't believe me? Hop a plane to Italy and try to order some in an Italian eatery – a real one, not one geared to serve American tourists. They'll serve you spaghetti and they'll serve you meatballs, but they won't serve them together.

And in the same way that spaghetti and meatballs, chicken Parmesan, and fettuccine Alfredo are all creations of Italian-American origin, so, too, is the concept of abbondanza.

Historically, much Italian cuisine is cucina povera – “cooking of the poor.” This is especially true of southern Italian regions, the regions from which the vast majority of Italian immigrants departed, bound for the shores of America.

Once they arrived, two things happened to transform cucina povera into abbondanza. First, these newly-minted Americans had to adapt their traditional Old World recipes to their New World circumstances. They simply couldn't find many of the ingredients they were accustomed to using. So, using what was at hand, they created new Italian dishes in the new Italian-American style.

Then they began to prosper. Meat – a luxury in some households “back home” – was now abundant. Many poor immigrants brought precious supplies of pasta with them when they sailed from Italy. But it wasn't long before large and efficient American factories were ramping up to serve this burgeoning market. Artisan cheeses, so prized as to sometimes be used as currency in the old country, were readily available in American markets, as were a bewildering variety of fruits and vegetables.

And so to prove to their American friends and neighbors – and to themselves – that they were no longer poor, Italian-Americans began to really pile it on at the table, displaying their new-found prosperity with wonderful new recipes that used all the wonderful new ingredients available in such great abundance. Abbondanza!

So, here comes Joe American. He walks into a restaurant on New York's Arthur Avenue, or Boston's North End, or Philadelphia's south side and is served from heaping platters and bowls overflowing with delicious, rich food, and he thinks, “Wow, so this is how these Italians eat!” Pretty soon, it becomes a standard. And then it becomes a stereotype. And then generations of fat Joe Americans start waddling around and blaming “all that pasta and that rich Italian food” for their growing obesity epidemic.

Joe American's idea of what Giuseppe Italiano eats is horribly misguided. And that misguided idea is responsible for the notion that all Italian food is fattening and bad for you. Don't look at the Madison Avenue Italian mamas. Don't focus on the images portrayed in movies and on TV shows. Abbondanza? Fuhgeddaboudit!

As of this writing, 35.7% of Americans are obese. You may want to sit down for this; the obesity rate in Italy is 8.5%. How is this possible!? All that pasta! All that cheese! All that abbondanza! And that's the problem.

Americans overdo too much of a good thing. When I go to a typical American Italian restaurant, I invariably order pasta from the child's menu. And it's usually still too much. There is not a non-tourist ristorante on the Italian peninsula that would dream of serving as much pasta to one person as their Italian-American counterparts. Most American restaurants, especially the chain places, serve you two or three times as much as what a real Italian establishment would serve or what you would find on a real Italian table at home.

Yes, Italians eat pasta seven days a week. In fact, they are the world's largest consumers of the stuff. But they eat a realistic, healthy portion; about a one-cup serving equal to about 200 calories. Americans typically eat pasta twice a week, but they consume as much in those two days as the average Italian eats in six! Olive Garden's “Tour of Italy” on its “Classic Pastas” menu packs a whopping 1450 calories. Even their simple Capellini Pomodoro contains 840 calories. Spaghetti and Meatballs at Romano's Macaroni Grill spins up 1430 calories. Carrabba's fares a little better; their Spaghetti Pomodoro weighs in at just 540 calories. Eating pasta doesn't make you fat; eating too much pasta makes you fat.

True Italian pasta dishes are not always enrobed in heavy sauces. An Italian favorite is aglio olio, in which a portion of pasta is lightly coated in olive oil and garlic with maybe a few red pepper flakes thrown in for a little spice. Such a dish is practically unheard of in America. “Where's the meat?” says Joe American. “Where's the cheese? Where's the red sauce? Who wants to eat spaghetti with nothing but olive oil on it?” Italians do.

Italians appreciate their food. They respect their food. Food is more than just something you shove in your mouth to satisfy a need. There is a structured order to eating in Italian culture. They eat small meals slowly, never wolfing down great quantities of food in some imagined competitive eating contest. “All you can eat” and “endless pasta bars” and “bottomless soup bowls”.....these are all American concepts. And although many Italian trattorie offer generous quantities of food served in an open, family style, most Italians don't feel compelled to make pigs of themselves. They eat until they are full and then they stop eating. You'll never see an Italian lining up for seconds or thirds at an “endless buffet.”

Far removed from abbondanza, Italians are among the original proponents of the so-called “Mediterranean diet.” Lots of vegetables, lots of fruit, olive oil on practically everything. Fish and seafood are staple proteins, as are chicken and moderate quanties of lean pork. Beef has grown in popularity and acceptance since WWII, but it's still not the “gotta-have-it-every-day” neccesity that it is in America. Starches and carbohydrates are consumed regularly, but in moderate quantities.

Italians eat a light meal in the morning – usually nothing more than a small pastry and coffee. Lunch is the biggest meal of the day. Supper is generally late and light. Children might indulge in an afternoon snack and adults might occasionally grab a mid-day gelato, but between-meal snacking on candy bars and potato chips and such is not done. Nor are Italians very dessert driven. Most of the time, a meal is finished with a little fruit or cheese. Sweet desserts are reserved for special occasions. And nobody sits in front of the TV with a bowl of something sweet or salty.

Which brings up another point; nobody sits. Italians walk or bicycle everywhere. Oh, they have cars. Traffic on the Piazza Venezia and around the Colosseum is a testament to that fact. But they don't use them to such an extent that they forget what their feet are for. The idea that you would get in your car and drive to the corner market for a gallon of milk is laughable in Italy. Kind of like it was here once upon a time not so long ago.

Abbondanza is the Italian-American myth that makes Americans look like Macy's balloons while native Italians resemble the ropes that hold them down. The Italian/Meditteranean diet is not a “diet” at all. It's a simple and practical way of eating that, when combined with regular activity, results in a healthy weight conducive to a prolonged and healthy life.

I saw a news story the other day in which it was revealed that ferries and tour boats are having to lower their capacity in order to accomodate today's heavier passengers. They've upped their weight averages from 140 pounds per person to 180. Have you gone to an old theater or ballpark lately? One that hasn't been renovated in the last twenty or thirty years? Seats are a little snug, aren't they? And the most recent prediction says that America will be 42% obese by 2030. Maybe those Italians are on to something.

Abbondanza? Fuhgeddaboudit!

May (2012) Fun Food Holidays

“It's May, it's May!
The lusty month of May!
That darling month when everyone throws
self-control away!”

Or at least that's what Lerner and Lowe tell us.

I mean, how much self-control can you have during National Asparagus Month? Or while celebrating eggs, barbecue, hamburgers, salsa, gazpacho, salad, strawberries, and chocolate custard?

And did I mention, it's also National Mediterranean Diet Month?

And those are just the month-long observances. There are also weeks dedicated to raisins and to herbs (week one), hamburgers (week two), pickles (week three), and to both frozen yogurt and beer (week four).

Wow! Lusty month, indeed!

Kick it all off with National Chocolate Parfait Day on May 1^st. Follow that with a nod to truffles – the candy variety – on the second, and raspberry tarts on the third.

May 4^th is a little weird. It's a day to commemorate homebrew, orange juice, and candied orange peel. If you want to serve them all up in the same glass for a more fulsome frolic, well.......

May 5 is “Cinco de Mayo,” so enjoy a hoagie. Hey, I don't come up with 'em, I just report 'em.

The all-American favorite, crepes suzette, has a day on May 6 and National Roast Leg of Lamb Day finishes the first week of this fabulous foodie month on May 7.

May 8^th has a lot going for it; empanadas, coconut-cream pie, and, believe it or not, a coke. Yep, it's Have a Coke Day. Maybe a diet Coke after all those empanadas and coconut-cream pies.

Butterscotch brownies hold forth on May 9, followed by National Shrimp Day on the 10^th.

Here's an easy one to celebrate; May 11 is officially designated as Eat What You Want Day. Woo-hoo!

And if what you want is nutty fudge, well you can celebrate for two days. National Nutty Fudge Day happens on May 12.

The much-praised apple pie and the much-maligned fruit cocktail share the day on May 13.

The 14^th belongs solely to buttermilk biscuits. As it should be; nothing should have to share or compare with buttermilk biscuits.

Knock back a bag of chocolate chips on May 15, National Chocolate Chip Day.

Are you ready for some Coquilles Saint Jacques? The classic French dish has a day on May 16. (It's baked scallops in a rich cream sauce, by the way.)

No explanation needed for cherry cobbler. Enjoy some on May 17.

Could you fall for a cheese souffle? National Cheese Souffle Day is May 18.

Warm up the fire and brimstone – and some chocolate while you're at it. National Devil's Food Cake Day ignites on May 19.

What's with the French food this month? Quiche Lorraine is saluted on May 20, but you are also admonished to pick strawberries on that day – preferably from the field rather than from the produce department.

Put 'em to good use the next day, May 21, National Strawberries and Cream Day.

Maybe save a few for the following day, May 22, National Vanilla Pudding Day. It could work.

Stretch into National Taffy Day on the 23^rd.

The French are back on the 24^th, National Escargot Day.

If you have leftovers, National Brown-Bag-It Day happens on May 25, coincidentally also officially designated as National Wine Day. Brown bag......wine......hmmmm.

Choose your dessert on May 26, both National Blueberry Cheesecake Day and National Cherry Dessert Day.

A childhood favorite, the grape popsicle, is feted on May 27.

"Where's the beef?" Find out on May 28. Brisket and hamburgers are both on the celebratory menu.

The French make yet another appearance on the calendar with National Coq au Vin Day on the 29^th.

Sip on a mint julep on the month's penultimate day and round out May with some macaroons on May 31.

“It's mad! It's gay!
A libelous display!
Those dreary vows that ev'ryone takes,
Ev'ryone breaks.
Ev'ryone makes divine mistakes
The lusty month of May!”

How To Write An Effective Restaurant Review

I realized the other day that I have expended a lot of virtual ink slamming bad restaurant reviews on the Internet, but I haven't put forth much effort in explaining how to write a good review. In this instance, I am not speaking of the content of the review being good or bad, but rather of the structure of the review itself.

Too many would-be reviewers take to the blogosphere and write things like, “This place rocks!” or “This place sucks!” These aren't reviews, they're ejaculations. (Look it up. It doesn't always mean what you think it does.) In fact, most of the “reviews” that appear on a plethora of increasingly popular social media sites aren't really reviews at all; they are merely comments. “I recommend Restaurant X. The food is really good” is a nice statement, but it's hardly a review.

There are rules and procedures involved in writing a proper review. You don't have to go on for pages and pages – as I sometimes do – but you do have to cover the basics.

In order to be useful, a review must be objective. When warranted, it's okay to be effusive with your praise, but it's equally important to be constructive with your criticism. “Reviews” that do nothing more than blatantly trash a business are pretty transparent. Most people can detect an ax being ground and will ignore overly and overtly negative pieces.

Rule number one in writing an effective review is to know your subject. I write about Italian food. I keep my mouth shut on other cuisines because I don't know enough about them. Therefore, I would not breeze into a Thai restaurant, order a dish about which I knew nothing, and then baldly proclaim, “This place has terrible food.”

In the same vein, be specific in your commentary. Don't make blanket statements like, “this place has bad food” or “this place has good food” until you've had a representative sampling of the menu. Ever watch any of those “restaurant rescue” shows like “Kitchen Nightmares” or “Restaurant: Impossible?” Notice that Gordon Ramsay and Robert Irvine order several dishes off the menu before they declare the food delicious or unfit to eat. (Usually the latter.) You may say that a particular dish is good or bad, but you can't praise or lambast all the food on a fifty-item menu based on the one thing you ordered.

When talking about the food you ate, don't just say “it was good” or “it was bad.” Why was it good or bad? Was it cooked properly? Was the temperature what it was supposed to be. Cold soup and a hot salad are good reasons to complain. And when it comes to discussing flavors and textures and such, if you don't have the palate to back up your opinions, shut up. There's nothing more annoying or pretentious than somebody who lets Chef Mike – as in microwave – do all the cooking at home, then goes out to a restaurant and suddenly becomes an expert on taste and texture and seasoning. Unless you really know what you're talking about, stick to the basics – too salty, too spicy, too sweet, etc. Don't over analyze. “The spaghetti was cold and a little overcooked and the sauce was too sweet for my taste” is a good, concise statement. No need to load up on adjectives and metaphors.

Talk about prices. Be specific. Generalities like, “this place is too expensive” are useless. You may consider a ten-dollar entree to be too expensive. I may not. Quote a specific price for the specific dish you purchased and include a price range for other offerings on the menu. “I paid $14 for my entree. Other entrees ranged from $12 to $18.” Let the reader decide whether or not the place is too expensive.

Discuss value. How were portions in relation to the prices? And was the quality equal to the cost? Again, know what you're talking about. Don't mouth off and say something was “canned” or “boxed” or “cheap” unless you can back it up. If necessary, qualify your statement. “I thought the sauce tasted canned” is a much safer declaration than “the sauce was canned.”

There's more to a restaurant than its food. Talk about those other things that affect your dining experience. Was the hostess friendly or surly? Was the waiter or waitress efficient and attentive or did they slop water on your table and otherwise ignore you? If there was music, was it too loud or out of character with the surroundings? Nothing goes with a nice Italian meal like a little Def Leppard played at earsplitting levels. How about the lighting? Did you need to keep your sunglasses on or were you required to use a flashlight in order to read the menu?

Pay attention to other details. Were you there for lunch or for dinner? Was the place crowded or empty. These things are important because they affect the overall service.

Some social media sites cover the nuts and bolts so you don't have to. But it's not a bad idea to note them just in case. Where is the restaurant located and what is the address? What are the hours of operation? Do you need reservations? What's the phone number? What constitutes appropriate dress? Is it a good “date” place or is it “family friendly?” How's the parking? Do they have a website?

As to the writing itself, first and foremost, use good grammar and spelling. People really do judge you by the way you speak and write. If you come across on paper as uneducated, your review is weightless. If you can't spell, punctuate, and form complete coherent sentences, why should I pay any attention to what you say?

It's okay to inject a little personality into your review. Be funny, be sarcastic, but above all, be intelligent. And don't be vulgar. Don't say, “the waitress was a bitch” even if she was. Don't say, “the food sucks” even if it does. When you make the statement, "this tastes like s**t," the first question that comes to my mind is "How does he know what s**t tastes like?" And “text speak” should be reserved for texting with your friends. “You” is never expressed as “U”. “R” is not an appropriate substitute for “are.” Such may be acceptable among your peers, but posting to the Internet opens you up to a wide audience. You may think it's sick to LOL with your peeps, but most of your readers will just think you're immature.

Despite the fact that I frequently criticize them, I can see the potential value in social media review sites. But as most of them stand now, they are of little merit due to the questionable caliber of their content. More effective reviews from better informed reviewers will go a long way toward increasing their viability.

UK Pizza Hut's "Hot-Dog Stuffed-Crust" Further Adulterates Pizza

Once upon a time, nobody but Italians knew about pizza. Maybe it should have stayed that way.

Since its culinary “coming out” in the post-WWII years, the traditional Neapolitan pizza – a thin-crusted delight with a light topping of tomato sauce and cheese – has been adulterated by every culture that has touched it to the point where nowadays the word “pizza” is synonymous with “garbage pile.”

Gennaro Lombardi brought a simple pie to America in 1905, and the “improvements” and “innovations” began almost immediately. Gennaro himself made the first “improvements” out of necessity; rather than constructing his pizzas – actually, pizze if you want to be Italian about it – in the old-world way, he had to adapt to the ingredients available to him. New York was not noted for its roaming herds of water-buffalo, so the traditional mozzarella di bufala had to be replaced by a fior di latte, a cow's milk cheese that America has come to call “mozzarella.”

Then came the polluters and blasphemers, starting with Texas-athlete-turned-Chicago-salesman Ike Sewell who arbitrarily decided that pizza needed to be Texas-sized, so he proceeded to throw enormous proportions of traditional pizza ingredients into a casserole. He called it “Chicago Deep Dish Pizza.”

A bunch of California guys like Wolfgang Puck and California Pizza Kitchen founders Rick Rosenfield and Larry Flax further “innovated” pizza by throwing anything remotely edible onto a pizza crust.

Of course, you have to give a lot of credit to a little venture started by a couple of brothers out in Kansas. When it comes to “garbage pizza,” Pizza Hut is the most egregious “innovator” of them all. “Let's see how much meat we can put on a 'meat lover's'.” “We'll denude a garden and call it a 'Supreme'.” “There's no such thing as 'too much cheese'.” Extra cheese! Extra meat! Extra vegetables! Extra! Extra! Extra! Obesity epidemic? Perish the thought!

And now comes the UK branch of Pizza Hut with a new wretched excess; the “Hot-Dog Stuffed-Crust Pizza.” Uh-huh, that's right. Some brainiac in the R&D department figured that wrapping a hot dog in pizza dough was a good thing. And if you're making “pigs-in-a-blanket,” it is. Not so much, though, when it comes to pizza. And they'll even throw in a FREE mustard drizzle! Woo-hoo! Mustard on pizza! Now there's innovation that would make Gennaro Lombardi weep! Or spin in his grave.

Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Don't they make cheese-stuffed hot-dogs? Try this one out, Pizza Hut; you take the cheese-stuffed crust you already offer and stuff it with a cheese-stuffed hot-dog! Then you do a special offer with a meat-lover's variety with extra cheese! Every cardiologist on the planet would be buying stock in your company!

It all makes one little Italian immigrant with some flatbread, some tomatoes, and a little cheese, all wrapped in a paper bundle tied with string look somehow lonely and forlorn, doesn't it?

Mario Batali's Timpano di Maccheroni A Kitchen Nightmare

Whether on TV or in person, I love to watch Mario Batali cook. He's incredibly personable and has a great rapport with his audience. He's knowledgeable and passionate and you learn a lot just watching him regardless of whether you ever intend to prepare any of the sometimes exotic and arcane dishes he demonstrates.

Well, I caught Mario's act on ABC's The Chew not long ago on a day when he was preparing a Timpano di Maccheroni. An impressive stuffed pasta pie, he billed it as a great dish for parties and celebrations. He also touted how very easy the dish was to prepare. Perfect, I thought, for an upcoming event I'm supposed to cater.

But first, there's Easter. A big family food holiday and an opportunity to guinea pig a new recipe. I'll wow family and friends with a timpano before I try it out on a client. Only, I was the one who got “wowed.” As in, “Wow! Was that una grande dolore in culo!” (That's “a big pain in the ass” for those of you who are Italian-challenged.)

See, the thing is, it's easy for Mario to say something is “easy” because he has a huge team of prep cooks working behind the scenes to make it look easy. But when it's just you and your long-suffering spouse, it's a whole 'nuther story. Especially if you're trying to turn out cheesecake and various other side items at the same time. Easy-schmeezy!

To be somewhat fair to Mario, the actual assembly of the dish is easy. It's ten-minute easy. BUT......

Let me describe this kitchen nightmare. You make a crust that's somewhere between pasta and pastry. You lay said crust in a big metal bowl that's been buttered and breadcrumbed so that the edges overlap the rim of the bowl. Then you add a layer of rigatoni that's been cooked in a besciamella sauce and to which a little ham or prosciutto has been added. Top that with some freshly-grated parmigiano-reggiano. Add a layer of meatballs that have been cooked in a tomato sauce. Top that with more cheese. Then you add a layer of a nice ragu, or meat sauce. Fold the “flaps” of dough over the whole thing, cover with foil and bake. Easy!!

And if I would have had somebody pre-make my crust, pre-cook my pasta, pre-make my white sauce, my red sauce, my meat sauce, and my meatballs so that all I had to do was dance around on my little black Crocs – mine are black, not orange – putting it all together, why, I'd be a happy camper, too!

Of course, if I were one of those kind of cooks, I would have used the pie dough that comes in little rolls in the dairy case and combined it with some jarred sauces and frozen meatballs. That, also, would have been pretty easy.

But, no-o-o-o. I spent hours making all the sauces from scratch. I even cut up and ground the meat that went into the ragu and the meatballs. And the dough was scratch-made, too. And then there was the time it took to grate piles of cheese and the time to cook the pasta and cutting up the prosciutto and a dozen other “little” things that all had to be done before the final “easy” assembly and baking, which, by the way, took an hour-and-a-half.

My wife has threatened to hurt me if I ever again utter “easy” and “Batali” in the same sentence.

And then there's the recipe issue. I went to The Chew's website for the recipe. I don't know who wrote it, but it's whacked.

First, there's the dough. The recipe says you can hydrate 2 ½ cups of flour with a teaspoon of water. You can't. My wife made the dough while I was working on sauces and she kept adding and adding water to achieve the “lumpy mass” the recipe called for before kneading and resting the dough. And things got worse instead of better after the dough rested. Worse to the point where we almost remade the dough. We finally got it to work, but only by following our experience and instincts, not by following the recipe.

The recipe was full of weird instructions. For instance, they wanted me to make the ragu, or meat sauce, by cooking the meat in tomato sauce for three hours and then removing the meat. Huh?

And the ingredient proportions were equally ridiculous. The recipe called for two pounds of rigatoni. The biggest metal mixing bowl in my kitchen measures 12-inches across the top. I struggled to get a little more than half of the cooked pasta into that bowl. I do have a small metal washtub that probably would have worked, but it wouldn't fit in my oven.

Ultimately, the dish was – as most Batali dishes are – a triumph. When we finally got the cursed thing put together and baked, we upended it onto a serving platter, lightly thumped the bowl, lifted it and revealed an absolutely perfect golden dome of pasta and meat-filled deliciousness that awed our guests into numerous expressions of admiration.

And we vowed to never make it again.....at least not according to that recipe.

Timpano di Maccheroni is a great concept and one of these days I'll write out the recipe in a way that won't leave you cursing, mumbling, and panting when you try to make it. In the meantime, I hope the guests at my upcoming event won't mind lasagne.