Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

Umbria is the only province in Italy that doesn’t touch the sea. That’s one reason they call it the Green Heart of Italy. However, it’s not more than an hour and a half from both the Adriatic to the east and the Mediterranean to the west and we have a fabulous fresh fish store in our village that draws from both.

I was there today, browsing, and saw a big mesh bag filled with vongole veraci – they’re the wonderful, tiny, briny clams that work so well in spaghetti vongole – pasta with clam sauce. I love making this dish in Italy — because of the superior ingredients, of course. My version is a bit ornate and not really classic. I’ve been checking different recipes – from Venice, from Liguria, from Naples — and they’re mostly quite simple – garlic, oil, clams, and maybe a little parsley.

Barbecue. You know what it means, right? Are you sure? Having grown up in Rhode Island I always thought a "barbecue" referred to an outdoor cookout featuring grilled hot dogs and hamburgers. It wasn't until we moved to North Carolina that we discovered "barbecue" had nothing to do with hot dogs and hamburgers and everything to do with slowly cooking a whole hog over some flames.

Now that we live in Southern California, I've fallen for Santa Maria-style barbecue made from tri-tip, a flavorful, triangular cut of beef from the bottom sirloin.

Santa Maria-style barbecue originated in the Santa Maria Valley in Central California in the 19th century. After cattle round-ups, American cowboys, known as vaqueros, would host huge gatherings that featured beef skewered and cooked over a red oak fire. The beef was simply seasoned with salt and pepper and served with Pinquito beans, salsa, bread, and simple desserts. It hasn't changed much in almost two centuries.

For me there's nothing more representative of the ocean than shellfish, particularly the beautiful blue mussel. I have always had an affinity for the ocean, and before my foray into marine biology, I was first and foremost a young curious kid who avidly collected shells to learn all about them. As a kid though I wouldn't eat mussels, or any shellfish for that matter; I thought they were just too beautiful or too gross. Now I can hardly remember a time that I didn't love eating shellfish. Ever since my first time having moules marinière, I have been in love with the sweet briny flavor of mussels. With a slice of crusty bread in hand, I now dive into a bowl of mussels with conviction.

That flavor marries perfectly with white wine and garlic, the basis for preparing moules in any of the Mediterranean countries. In this recipe, I augment those traditional flavors with the addition of slowly sautéed leeks for a sweet onion flavor and a unique fresh celery-like herb, lovage. This cousin of celery most resembles a cross between celery and parsley, both in appearance and in taste. An interesting fact is that the spice commonly sold as dried celery seed is actually lovage seed. As a fresh herb, lovage lends a bright flavor to foods, and just a few sprigs can add wonderful flavor profiles to soups and stews. Here in this recipe, it replaces the more traditionally used parsley just for one final twist.

I remember reading her words like it was yesterday. Molly once said that prunes were among the few foods with their own built-in laugh track. And gosh darnit, she’s right. I still giggle when I think about them, even when people were saying they were delicious and I should try them. And you know exactly what this boy is talking about, quit trying to be coy and pretend you don’t know.  We’re friends here.

Luckily I can now tell you that I no longer laugh as hard as I once did when I say the words prune and I can also tell you that I no longer put the palms of my hand to my lips and make mega-sounds.  And why? Because scattered among the yards and yards of breakfast items on the buffet table at Club Med in the Bahamas were bowls of stewed prunes.