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Posts Tagged ‘gnocchi’

My only plan for the day was to take the train to Cormòns for lunch, which left me the entire morning to spend in Trieste. The air was surprisingly thick and muggy, the dark, overcast sky threatening rain. I worked up a sweat as I took a long stroll around the city center, stopping at several food shops along the way. Most memorable was Trieste’s oldest bakery, Pasticceria Bomboniera, founded in 1836. The bakery’s elegant hardwood displays, black-and-white marble floor, and crystal chandelier offered a glimpse into the grandeur of a bygone era. I bought two pastine (bite-size pastries)—sachertorte (chocolate cake with apricot glaze and chocolate ganache) and dobostorte (layer cake with chocolate buttercream and caramel glaze)—as well as a putizza, a Triestine spiral cake similar to the gubana found elsewhere in Friuli. I wanted to compare Bomboniera’s putizza to that from Pasticceria Penso. (As I came to learn, the primary difference is that Penso adds melted chocolate to the dried fruit and nut filling, while Bomboniera uses chocolate chunks.)

After dropping off the pastries at my apartment in Residence Liberty, I suddenly realized I was running a bit late. I speed-walked all the way to the train station, making it there in 15 minutes instead of the usual 20, and caught the train to Cormòns moments before it departed.

Upon arrival in Cormòns, I set out on the 45-minute trek from the station to La Subida on the outskirts of town. The foreboding clouds had begun to pass during my train ride, and by the time I was nearing La Subida, the sun was shining brightly in the blue sky. Vineyards blanketed the rolling hills, which were beginning to show the first signs of autumn color.

I had eaten at Trattoria Al Cacciatore de La Subida once before, and it had been my most memorable Friulian meal ever. It was a peaceful July afternoon, and I had sat outdoors, along with just one other table of diners. Owners Joško and Loredana Sirk had been free to spend a great deal of time chatting leisurely with me about Friulian cuisine and my cookbook project. This time, however, the restaurant was packed. Both owners were super busy, so their daughter Tanja was waiting tables instead. A young, petite woman, Tanja wore a beaming smile that projected the tranquil joys of life at a country inn.

As a complimentary appetizer, she brought me a taste of ricotta di malga on a bed of polenta and arugula, some crispy frico chips, and a glass of Prosecco. Instead of handing me a written menu, Tanja rattled off the choices of the day. While I was fairly proficient at reading and writing Italian, my conversational skills were far from fluent. I typically understood enough to get by while traveling and even conduct the occasional one-on-one interview, but the rapid-fire speed of normal speech often left me feeling rather stupid. So on this occasion, when I vaguely recognized an antipasto that I had not tried on my previous visit, I immediately went with that. The dish was a mound of minced venison over a bed of arugula, with potato purée and topped with three slices of meaty porcini mushrooms.

Next, I ordered the gnocchi di susine, a dish I was already quite familiar with, having eaten my share of the heavy plum-filled dumplings in other restaurants. These, in contrast, were light and not overly doughy at all. On the plate sat a pair of gnocchi, each one just slightly larger than a golf ball. Instead of being stuffed with a whole prune plum, as I had seen elsewhere, these were filled with a spoonful of juicy diced plums. When I cut into the dumplings, red juices burst forth with an audible squirt. More diced plums and a semi-circle of toasted bread crumbs garnished the plate, giving it the appearance of a smiley face. Sugar and cinnamon were served on the side to sprinkle as desired.

For dessert, I opted for something less decadent than the sweets I had been eating as of late: sorbetto al sambuco, a light and refreshing elderflower sorbet. Tanja also brought a plate with three different types of cookies and a bowl of candied pistachios. As I was enjoying my dessert, Loredana stopped by my table to say hello—she remembered me from my visit in July. Before I left, Joško spotted me and came over as well.

On my way out the door, I realized for the second time that day that I was running late. I had less than 45 minutes to catch my train back to Trieste. Once again, I speed-walked the entire way to the station, managing to get there with 5 minutes to spare. At least I could say I had burned enough calories to justify indulging in those slices of sachertorte and dobostorte later that evening!

Here is my recipe for gnocchi di susine:

For the Dough:
2 pounds white potatoes, peeled and quartered
4 cups all-purpose flour
4 teaspoons salt
1 egg

Place the potatoes in a large pot filled with water; bring to a boil over high heat. Cook until tender, about 20–25 minutes. Drain the potatoes and place in a large bowl; mash well. Cool to room temperature. Add the flour, salt, and egg; mix thoroughly to form a soft dough.

To Prepare:
1/2 cup sugar, divided
6 medium plums (about 1 to 1-1/4 pounds), pitted and cut into 8 wedges each

Roll the dough into four dozen balls. Flatten each into a 3-inch circle; sprinkle with 1/2 teaspoon sugar and top with a plum wedge. Wrap the dough around the plum and seal tightly. (At this point, the sugar will begin to draw the juice out of the plums; placing the filled gnocchi on a wooden board will help prevent them from getting soggy.)

Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil over high heat. Working in batches, place the gnocchi in the water, taking care not to overcrowd the pot. Once the gnocchi have risen to the surface, cook until the dough is tender, about 10 minutes longer; remove them promptly with a slotted spoon.

To Serve:
1/2 cup (1 stick) butter
1/4 cup dry bread crumbs
Ground cinnamon
Sugar

Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the bread crumbs; cook and stir until golden brown, about 3–4 minutes. Add the gnocchi and toss to coat with bread crumbs. Divide the gnocchi among serving dishes. Drizzle with the excess butter and bread crumbs; sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar.

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gnocchi alle erbeFor my Recipe-of-the-Month, I have chosen Gnocchi alle Erbe (Herb Gnocchi), in honor of this month’s Festa delle Erbe di Primavera. Held annually in the town of Forni di Sopra, at the westernmost edge of Carnia overlooking the Dolomites, this festival celebrates the bounty of wild herbs found in springtime. For my recipe, visit Flavors-of-Friuli.com.

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Gnocchi di ZuccaFor my Recipe-of-the-Month, I have chosen Gnocchi di Zucca (Butternut Squash Gnocchi), in honor of this month’s Festa della Zucca. After having been cancelled for the past two years due to financial difficulties, the popular festival is returning to the town of Venzone on the weekend of October 24-25. In addition to a plethora of medieval-themed entertainment and activities, the town’s taverns and restaurants will be offering special tasting-menus, naturally featuring the celebrated pumpkin. Gnocchi di zucca will undoubtedly be one of the star dishes. For my recipe, visit Flavors-of-Friuli.com.

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gnocchi di susineFor my Recipe-of-the-Month, I have chosen Gnocchi di Susine (Plum-Filled Gnocchi), a dumpling of Austro-Hungarian origin that may be found on tables from the Czech Republic all the way down to Italy’s Friuli-Venezia Giulia region. While the season for Italian plums is fairly short (September through early October), this recipe works with any variety of plum—even dried. Served in melted butter with a topping of toasted bread crumbs, sugar, and cinnamon, these gnocchi are decadent enough to pass for dessert! For my recipe, visit Flavors-of-Friuli.com.

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gnocchi croccanti di SaurisFor my Recipe-of-the-Month, I have chosen Gnocchi Croccanti di Sauris (Crispy Stuffed Gnocchi). As the town of Sauris, located in northern Friuli’s Carnia mountains, is gearing up for their annual Festa del Prosciutto this month, it is only appropriate to feature this dish from Ristorante Alla Pace in Sauris di Sotto: potato gnocchi stuffed with locally cured prosciutto, pan-fried in butter, and served on a bed of wilted arugula. For my adaptation of their recipe, visit Flavors-of-Friuli.com.

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Gnocchi di ZuccaMy recipe for Pumpkin Gnocchi with Browned Butter, Sage and Ricotta Salata has been featured at www.bbaudiology.com as a “healthy hearing recipe.” The original version, Gnocchi di Zucca, was published in my cookbook Flavors of Friuli: A Culinary Journey through Northeastern Italy.

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Sauris di SopraThe forecast had predicted clouds and a chance of rain for my remaining three days in Sauris di Sotto. Sure enough, I awoke to a string of low, wispy clouds floating like gauze through the hills, with only a few scattered spots of blue sky peeking through. Later that afternoon, I had an appointment to tour the Prosciuttificio Wolf Sauris, so I took the opportunity to spend my free morning in Sauris di Sopra.

Although the buses in Carnia had so far proven to be highly punctual, the same compliment could not be paid to their frequency. At the time, there were only three buses to and from Sauris every day: early morning, midday, and evening. This made frequent travel between the two villages Sauris di Sotto and Sauris di Sopra nearly impossible for me. I did find, however, that if I took the 10:55am bus to the upper town of Sauris di Sopra, I’d have about an hour before catching the same bus on its downhill return. It didn’t seem like much time, but it was better than nothing.

Sauris di SopraBy the time I reached Sauris di Sopra, it was beginning to drizzle lightly. An hour turned out to be plenty of time to explore, given the inclement weather and the village’s small size. I walked up and down each street and along the wildflower-strewn meadow, my gaze fixated on the rocky Alpine peaks rising majestically in the distance. Just as intriguing were the homes with their uniquely Alpine character. Later, I would learn more about the architecture of Carnia and understand the subtle variations in each valley. While some areas were known for their green-tiled roofs or arched loggias, what made Sauris distinctive were its multistory, wood-framed homes, often with stone masonry on the lower floor and decorative woodwork on the external balconies. Like much of northern Italy, the feel was more German than Italian.

As I was waiting for my return bus, church bells began tolling the noon hour, while a faraway dog chimed in with its wolf-like howl. Seconds later, the bus arrived, and I was soon back in Sauris di Sotto—just in time for lunch. I went directly to Ristorante Alla Pace, now one of my favorite restaurants in Friuli. I ordered the frico con polenta and an insalata mista. The salad came first: greens from the family’s garden, shredded carrot, cucumber slices, canned beans, and sliced onion. The frico was a thick, six-inch pancake, browned to a golden crust on both sides. Made mostly of potato—the cheese was barely noticeable—it wasn’t at all greasy and held its puffy shape well.

After my meal, Signora Franca joined me again. This time, I showed her the manuscript for my cookbook. She thought my photos were molto belle and that I had included all the right recipes. This boosted my confidence a ton! Then she showed me a bottle of their house wine with a homemade label; the family photo had been taken 24 years ago at a touristy studio in Sacramento, California. Despite the kitschy costumes, it appeared, with its western style and old-fashioned sepia tone, to be a genuine photo of someone’s Friulian ancestors.

When I was ready to leave, Franca dismissed my request for il conto, saying that I could pay when I came back for dinner that evening. This was the Friulian hospitality that I had come to cherish so dearly.

Prosciuttificio Wolf SaurisAt 3:30pm, I showed up at the Prosciuttificio Wolf Sauris for my tour. Although the new, barn-like factory was not built until 1983, the business had been family-run since the mid-19th century, when village eccentric Pietro Schneider began selling his hams. (In addition to being a pork butcher, Schneider was also a church sexton, an unofficial dentist of sorts, and a self-proclaimed healer.) In 1962, his grandson Beppino Petris took over the business, officially naming the company Prosciuttificio Wolf Sauris after Schneider’s nickname “Wolf.” As of my visit, the factory was turning out an annual 80,000 legs of prosciutto, 100,000 legs of speck, and hundreds of tons of pancetta, salami, cotechino, ossocollo, and coppa.

prosciutto di SaurisJust like the previous day, the tour group comprised a busload of older folk, plus a young Italian couple who had overheard me asking about the guided visit. It felt a little like entering Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, only it was not candy but the salty, smoky aroma of ham that wafted through the air and tantalized my senses. Surrounded by sterile, white walls, stainless steel equipment, and impeccably clean floor tiles, workers wearing white hats and aprons took freshly butchered legs and transformed them—over a period of months, through the magical process of smoke- and salt-curing—into the delectable prosciutto di Sauris.

prosciutto di SaurisAlthough the tour guide spoke only Italian, I could understand most of what she said as we passed through the various rooms: the refrigeration room, where the hams began their curing process with a coating of salt; the smoking room, where the hams were smoked for four to five days using woods and herbs such as beech, maple, fir, birch, oak, pine, chestnut, juniper, thyme, sage, and rosemary; and the curing rooms, where row upon row of hams hung from floor to ceiling.

By the time the tour was over, I was craving a nibble or two. Fortunately, we were dropped off in the factory store, where the guide handed out bread sticks draped with gauze-thin slices of the rosy, pink meat.

Shortly after I returned to my room, it started to rain. I spent the rest of the afternoon there—writing, watching the news, and playing a few games of Solitaire on my computer. By the time I turned off the TV, it was raining hard. Before heading out again, I laid in bed for a bit, listening to the sound of the rain pelting the roof and dreading the wet walk down the hill to dinner.

Back at Alla Pace, Signora Franca recommended the gnoccho croccante. Since she was so insistent that I try the dish, I felt it would be rude to even glance at the menu. It was a good call. Those gnocchi were some of the best I had ever eaten. Shaped like little footballs, the potato dumplings were filled with a mixture of minced speck and cheese; then, after a brief boil, they finished cooking in a skillet of butter, which gave them a nice golden crispness on top and bottom. Five of these gnocchi were presented in a circle over a bed of wilted crescione (garden cress). Potato gnocchi can often be tough, but these were soft, delicate, and crispy all at the same time, with an amazing flavor boost from the salty filling.

For dessert, I ordered a slice of torta di mele. Finally, I had found an apple cake worthy of recreating for my cookbook! While the cake itself was similar to the ones I had at Ristorante Kursaal and Albergo Morgenleit, the presentation was a step above. Thin slices of apple were set obliquely into the cake in a spiral pattern; to serve, the cake was then dusted with powdered sugar, cinnamon, and slivered almonds.

Gnocchi Croccanti di SaurisHere is my version of Alla Pace’s gnocchi croccanti. While the restaurant uses speck, prosciutto di Sauris would also be a delicious choice. If neither is available, use prosciutto di San Daniele or even prosciutto di Parma. In addition, if Montasio is not available, you may substitute any aged cheese such as Parmigiano-Reggiano.

FILLING:
8 ounces prosciutto or speck, coarsely chopped
1/2 cup grated Montasio stagionato
1 tablespoon whole milk
2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives

Blend the prosciutto, Montasio cheese, and milk in a food processor until the mixture forms a smooth paste. Stir in the chives. Form the mixture into three dozen balls.

DOUGH:
1-1/2 pounds white potatoes, peeled and quartered
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon salt
1 egg

Place the potatoes in a large pot filled with water; bring to a boil over high heat. Cook until tender, about 20–25 minutes. Drain the potatoes and place in a large bowl; mash well. Cool to room temperature. Add the flour, salt, and egg; mix thoroughly to form a soft dough, adding a little extra flour if the dough appears too sticky to handle. Form the dough into three dozen balls. Press a ball of filling inside each ball of dough, wrapping the dough around the filling to seal tightly. Roll gently to form an oblong shape.

TO PREPARE:
6 tablespoons butter, divided
12 ounces arugula

1. Bring a large pot of lightly salted water to a boil over high heat. Working in batches, place the gnocchi in the water, taking care not to overcrowd the pot. Cook until the gnocchi rise to the surface; remove them promptly with a slotted spoon.

2. Melt 2 tablespoons butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add half the gnocchi; cook until the bottoms are crisp and golden brown, about 3–5 minutes. Turn the gnocchi over and cook 3–5 minutes to brown the other side. Repeat with an additional 2 tablespoons butter and the remaining gnocchi.

3. Meanwhile, melt the remaining 2 tablespoons butter in a large pot over medium-low heat. Add the arugula; cook, covered, until wilted, about 4–5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Season to taste with salt and black pepper. Divide the arugula among serving plates. Top with the gnocchi; drizzle with any excess butter from the skillet.

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