There Is A Season

Pomodoro season

 Italians love to do things according to the rule.  It appears, without question for the most part, that when tried and true rules have been passed down to generation after generation, no one appears to question it even though certain things around these ceremonies and rules have changed and make them obsolete, such as weather.

Still not sure what I’m talking about?  Well, when I first arrived here in March it was the season of spring.  Spring is predominantly cool days with a few warm ones thrown in.  On warm days I dress accordingly.  On warm days Italians dress according to spring wearing warm clothing despite the temperature.  Whilst they’re looking at me strangely, I’m certainly looking back at them with interest.  When in summer, flip flops or shorts are rarely seen on Italians for they continue to present their stylish ways.

Sicilian wedding in June with
not a sweaty face to be seen

Italians don’t sweat someone told me. I still don’t believe it but it appears to be true for they stroll along in their ironed shirts and uncreased jackets, or weather jackets and scarves, with no sign of perspiration.   June is the season for weddings in the southern Italian states and despite the heat and humidity they still dress to impress.

Walking around with wet hair is another offensive.  Understandably, in cold weather it isn’t advisable to walk around with a head of wet hair but it isn’t life threatening either.  My beloved hairstylist, Sandra, finds it unthinkable that I would want to depart from my silky Mary Tyler Moore hairdo, for cost saving reasons, in order to shake my head and walk into the sun for it to dry.  It’s crazy to think that they find it nearly criminal to have wet hair but okay to drive incredibly close and fast near pedestrians.

I was asking a Neapolitan friend about some soft cheese that I first found and tried in a salumiera (deli) in Siena, and how to best devour this gorgeous cheese.  Her response was to put it onto bread (I did that) and whilst waiting for the list to go on it stopped there.  What about pasta? I asked.  Noooo, she said, this is not good for pasta.  But according to my reasonably good palette, it was bloody brilliant with pasta but I dare not tell an Italian how to use cheese or any other food product, despite my successful discovery.  The soft cheese Stracchino is very similar to a goats’ cheese in colour, taste and texture, the expensive kind that you can find in a supermarket often cylindrical in shape and rolled in ash. 

Whilst appreciating and thoroughly enjoying Italian cuisine, I also appreciate the fantastic dishes that have been created because of the Australian approach to fusion food.  Italian food is very traditional but limited should I compare the culinary delights between Italy and Australia.  Italians can be praised for ‘getting it right’ as they pass down regional recipes yet it is limited when comparing such cuisine to countries such as Australia where a range of good produce is used in various dishes.  Each region and sometimes family have a different method when cooking.  Put salt into the boiling pasta water or, wait until the pasta is in the water.  Don’t mix cheese with seafood or don’t put the wrong cheese with a dish.  If you were able to listen to Italians converse it is mostly about food, what they ate and what they will eat.

Cook the right pasta with the right dish.  This one I get.  The incredible range of different pasta could fill a museum and quite possible there is one somewhere.  The brand of pasta also becomes contentious.  I have predominantly been a Barilla user for the past(a) decade but since being in Naples I have been assured that Garofalo, a Neapolitan made pasta, is better.

It is admirable to find that fruit and vegetables are supplied when in season only.  If they don’t have it then you don’t eat it.  The fruit and vegetables are displayed with care and creativity.  A wooden box of deep purple figs sat in a blanket of their own leaves early one morning as I was purchasing breakfast for the hostel.  Their plump little bodies looked as delicate as a sleeping newborn pup.  I felt if I had tried to pick one up I would disturb it.  Despite that feeling, I bought four of them, returned to the hostel and ate two, ripping the oval fruit in half and gorged the sweet, grainy tissue.   Just as an aside – I have noticed that when trying to describe the delights of eating, in my posts on Naples, I then understand how Nigella Lawson is often criticized for saucing it up.  I am a big fan of Nigella as a cook and presenter and have always believed that she delivers her food knowledge in a creative and passionate way, ignoring all of the snide ‘oh, she knows what she’s doing’ remarks.  I confess I have rewritten some of my sentences for fear that they will, without a doubt, sound explicitly sexual.  But food is a sensual thing so maybe I shouldn’t worry too much.

Where was I?  Oh, yes, Italians and their rules.  I love how the fresh produce is grown to a natural maturation so that the flavours are intense and astonish the senses.  One thing I have noticed is that vegetables are cooked in a lot of oil.  Actually, most Italian dishes are cooked in a lot of oil.  I can’t say I am a big fan of the ‘heavy vegetable’ as I refer to it and whilst they are tasty, on the whole, they are far too heavy for my constant consumption.

A fresh crisp salad or lightly steamed vegetables are my preferred way of ingesting vegetarian produce yet seldom is it seen here.  A salad, if ordered in a restaurant, could quite possibly present on a platter as some iceberg lettuce and lemon juice.  Corn and carrot also make appearances on some of these salads that again, aren’t my style.  I suppose I have been spoilt with the variety of produce in Australia and the intensity of flavour in Italy.  Buon appetito and enjoy the season you’re in.

Ciao

hellsbells