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Lasagne di Prima Primavera

with scallops, fava, zucchini and their blossoms

 

My cooking class guests last week wanted to focus on fish and they also wanted to make Lasagne. The baked pasta dish is general called Lasagne here, Lasagna is what they call it in Naples. As there is no traditional fish lasagne recipe in Emilia-Romagna, for once I had a free hand. I am very proud of the recipe I came up with it and am sharing it here, in time for the upcoming holidays. I have called the dish Lasagne di Prima Primavera - Lasagne for the first days of Spring. Do hope you like it!

You will need

For the lasagne pasta: 350 g "00" flour, 3 eggs and an egg yolk,

For the béchamel : 50g flour, 50g butter, 500 ml milk, salt and pepper, optional bay leaf , nutmeg

For the filling: 12 fresh scallops, 4 or 5 large zucchini, a kilo of unshelled fresh fava beans, a large bunch of zucchini blossoms, nutmeg to grate

To make the lasagne:

Make the pasta, leave to rest in a plastic bag at least 30 minutes - it can wait in the fridge even overnight. Roll out the "sfoglia" and cut into 8 cm squares. Once the pasta water has come to the boil, add generous salt and the olive oil and then cook the lasagne sheet 2 or 3 pieces at a time, about 2 minutes. Remove squares as they cook, plunge into cold water, then place on clean kitchen towels and pat dry on both sides.

 
To make the béchamel:

Place the milk over heat, with the bay leaf if using. Cook the flour and butter together on low heat to make the "roux". When the milk has come to the boil, take both pans off the heat and add the milk all at once to the flour mix stirring vigorously to avoid the formation of lumps. Season with salt and nutmeg if using and return to low heat to cook further about 5 minutes. If you do get lumps, either strain or whiz with a stick blender before returning to heat.

Borage Filled Ravioli

Walnut Pesto and Marjoram Butter

I was so pleased with my two little bunches of freshest spring borage and as I paid for them I could already taste the cucumber-like freshness of the borage filled ravioli I would be making. The ravioli I made are inspired by Liguria's sublime "Pansooti au Prebuggion", in dialect or "Pansotti al Preboggion" in Italian. Pansoooti means with a belly and refers to their plump filling, while Prebuggion is the bunch of wild greens used traditionally in the filling. This dish is associated with St. Joseph's day, March 19th, a time when the wild greens are very young and tender. I listed the greens used in Pansooti on my Posterous blog if you want to read more about that.

My ravioli were not quite like traditional pansooti where the dough is made with durum wheat flour mixed with some white wine and a single egg. Having a Romagnolo man to feed I made my pasta in Emilia-Romagna style, using finely milled soft flour and eggs only. Pansooti are also usually folded in triangle shapes whereas I made half moon shapes, just because I like their look better. I was also missing the Ligurian cheese Prescinseua (also called Quagliata or Cagliata) and used sheep's milk ricotta instead. With hindsight I realise I would have done better to use the Romagna cheese called Squacquerone or even to have mixed some yoghurt into my ricotta. We don't get buttermilk or sour cream in Italy but those too could be mixed in to approach Prescinseua, which is a little runny and with a slight acidity.

 
Sometimes but not always a little Prescinseua is also used in the delicately flavoured walnut sauce - in dialect "Tocco de nux" - that is the traditional dressing for Pansooti. Another variation is to replace some of the walnuts with good pine nuts or even to make a sweeter pine nut only sauce. The ravioli are finished with barely melted butter and fresh marjoram, this last being very characteristic of Liguria cuisine. If you have a nut allergy you can omit the nuts altogether and dress with this melted butter sauce alone.Please don't be tempted to substitute browned butter if you want an authentic dish. Italians would cringe at the idea. For this, as for the better known butter and sage dressing, the idea is to heat the butter as little as possible, just enough to melt it.

This is the recipe for the Ravioli that I made, my early spring "not-quite-pansooti" ravioli. The recipe serves 4.

 

Liguria Style ravioli with Walnut Pesto

For the Pasta

350g (1 1/2 cups) Italian "00" or finely milled cake flour

3 eggs and an egg yolk

La Sfoia Lorda

A Pasta in Brodo from Romagna

 

Pasta Asciutta translates loosely as "dry pasta" and is the generic name for pasta dressed with a sauce like Peas and Pancetta, or Puttanesca, or Amatariciana. It contrasts with Pasta in Brodo, pasta served in broth. In Emilia-Romagna, the Pasta capital of the north of Italy, the winters are chilly, damp and foggy and as soon as that kind of weather sets in, the craving is for pasta in brodo, not pasta asciutta. Bologna's - and Modena's - Tortellini are famous throughout Italy, as are Romagna's Cappelletti. But there is another pasta in brodo that is little known even here.

This is the Sfoia Lorda of Romagna. Egg pasta dough is called Sfoglia in Emilia-Romagna, pronounced "sfolia" as the letters "gl" are pronounced like "ll"in Spanish. So that accounts for the first part of the name. "Lorda" means dirty - because there is not a lot of filling, just enough to slightly "dirty" the dough. As is usual in Italy, the same dish is known by a few other names too: Pasta Piena, Minestra Ripiena and Spoja or Sfoglia Lorda.

The much loved and prized Tortellini and Cappelletti were a once-a year/special occasion food for Christmas or weddings. Hundreds were made by veritable teams of women over several days, in quantities to last many families through the 12 days of Christmas. Sfoia Lorda, much quicker to make was for every day. One woman in her kitchen could make enough to feed her probably large family without too much time or trouble.

I was introduced to Sfoia Lorda by my friend and neighbour Roberta. Roberta was born and raised in Imola, and this was a dish her mother often made. Though pretty Imola is now part of Bologna province, it is culturally - and gastronomically - already Romagna. I have since encountered this dish in many parts of Tuscan Romagna, a beautiful mountain area lying between Forli' and Florence. It is eaten everywhere here, though for some it is associated with the town of Bagno di Romagna. On the web, the dish is often attributed to Brisighella, which is at spitting distance from the border with Tuscan-Romagna. But one thing is clear, that this is a Romagna dish, unknown in Bologna and the Emilia part of the region.

Sfoia lorda ( for 4 people)

For serving

Home made broth - made either with capon alone or with beef, beef bones and a broiling hen, plus an onion stuck with a sweet clove, a carrot, and a half a celery stick, the last two cut into two or three pieces, not chopped.

 

La Sfoia Lorda

A Pasta in Brodo from Romagna

 

Pasta Asciutta translates loosely as "dry pasta" and is the generic name for pasta dressed with a sauce like Peas and Pancetta, or Puttanesca, or Amatariciana. It contrasts with Pasta in Brodo, pasta served in broth. In Emilia-Romagna, the Pasta capital of the north of Italy, the winters are chilly, damp and foggy and as soon as that kind of weather sets in, the craving is for pasta in brodo, not pasta asciutta. Bologna's - and Modena's - Tortellini are famous throughout Italy, as are Romagna's Cappelletti. But there is another pasta in brodo that is little known even here.

This is the Sfoia Lorda of Romagna. Egg pasta dough is called Sfoglia in Emilia-Romagna, pronounced "sfolia" as the letters "gl" are pronounced like "ll"in Spanish. So that accounts for the first part of the name. "Lorda" means dirty - because there is not a lot of filling, just enough to slightly "dirty" the dough. As is usual in Italy, the same dish is known by a few other names too: Pasta Piena, Minestra Ripiena and Spoja or Sfoglia Lorda.

The much loved and prized Tortellini and Cappelletti were a once-a year/special occasion food for Christmas or weddings. Hundreds were made by veritable teams of women over several days, in quantities to last many families through the 12 days of Christmas. Sfoia Lorda, much quicker to make was for every day. One woman in her kitchen could make enough to feed her probably large family without too much time or trouble.

I was introduced to Sfoia Lorda by my friend and neighbour Roberta. Roberta was born and raised in Imola, and this was a dish her mother often made. Though pretty Imola is now part of Bologna province, it is culturally - and gastronomically - already Romagna. I have since encountered this dish in many parts of Tuscan Romagna, a beautiful mountain area lying between Forli' and Florence. It is eaten everywhere here, though for some it is associated with the town of Bagno di Romagna. On the web, the dish is often attributed to Brisighella, which is at spitting distance from the border with Tuscan-Romagna. But one thing is clear, that this is a Romagna dish, unknown in Bologna and the Emilia part of the region.

Sfoia lorda ( for 4 people)

For serving

Home made broth - made either with capon alone or with beef, beef bones and a broiling hen, plus an onion stuck with a sweet clove, a carrot, and a half a celery stick, the last two cut into two or three pieces, not chopped.

 

A February Cook Italy Class

 

Here's a peek at what my Bologna day classes are like, the cooking part at least. To get an idea of just a part of the foodie tour you can view the photo album on my Cook Italy Facebook page.

So here are the all the recipes we made using fresh seasonal produce on a late February cooking class in Bologna. Fresh pasta of course, followed by a light main course where the vegetable takes centre stage and the meat acts as an accompaniment, and to finish Bologna's easy and utterly divine Budino di Ricotta, dressed up with a caramel sauce and seasonal blood and mandarin oranges.

All recipes are for four people.

Le Tagliatelle Radicchio e Pancetta

 

On the class we did not cook the Pancetta with the onion but crisped it up separately and used it a as a topping to be mixed in at table. You can also sprinkle on chopped parsley or top with a couple of toasted crumbled walnuts for a change.

400g (just under a pound) freshly made tagliatelle, a small onion, 100g (3 1/2 ounces) smoked Speck or pancetta, 1 large head long radicchio, 1/4 cup red wine, 2 or 3 tbsp. cream, 1 tbsp. butter, freshly ground black pepper, Parmigiano-Reggiano to grate at table

• Chop pancetta finely and cut the radicchio into strips and set aside.

• Chop the onion finely and soften in the butter with a little water to prevent it frying or colouring - it needs to sweat and wilt while remaining white

• Add the pancetta to the onion and cook together, stirring from time to time, for 10 minutes. Add the wine and half the radicchio and as soon as it wilts add the remaining half. Allow the wine to evaporate completely. You can turn the heat off at this point and reheat when the pasta is almost ready to drain

• Bring a large pan of water to the boil and add generous coarse sea salt when it has come to the boil, not before. Cook the pasta for about 3 minutes only as it is freshly made.

• When you have tipped in and stirred the pasta, add 2 tbsp. cream to the pan with the radicchio/pancetta and heat for a minute or two. Taste to decide whether you need to add a little more butter to sweeten or a little cheese to make it saltier, more savoury.

• Add the drained pasta and sauté briefly to coat with sauce - there should be just enough to coat the strands of pasta which will absorb it, so the tagliatelle ribbons are full of flavour and there are no sauce puddles on the plate.

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Spring Song Pasta

About the imminence of spring and the rewards of eating seasonally

 

The arrival of the first fava beans, coinciding with the arrival of the big fat round Roman artichokes, is the first welcome sign of spring in the food markets of Bologna.

When I saw the fresh fava pods in the market about 10 days ago, my heart did a little excited dance. On checking I found the price was too high, a sure sign that these were the very first of the season, the "primizie". Primizie produce fetches premium prices  - sorry, tongue twister! - though the produce is not yet at its best, and that's because impatient gourmands are prepared to pay more, to satisfy a year-old yearning. But I knew that the beans inside would be sweet, yes, but they would also be too too tiny, the pods almost empty. You'd be paying for the pods mainly and you can't cook the pods!

Yesterday however the price had already dropped to half last week's and my trusted green grocer assured me the pods were full of good sized beans. I was so thrilled to buy them, my first of the season, smiles and joy!

I eat seasonally, which in a way means serially, one a thing at a time, as it ripens and reaches the market. We've been indulging in artichokes cooked many different ways through the winter, and enjoying red radicchio, winter greens, bulb fennel, broccoli and cardoons. Next, very soon now, we will be eating a lot of fresh favas, peas and asparagus; a lot of peas especially, because their season is so short. Later I will be as excited to make my first fresh tomato sauce as I am sad when I make my last one of the year. Then the basil, the tiny leaf Genoa basil, will arrive, finally good enough to add perfume and not just colour. Then the colourful soft fruits will start and so on and on. It really is sheer joy to eat like this. Not only do you eat everything at its absolute peak, when it tastes most intensely of itself, there is also the relish of anticipation, the added pleasure of re-encountering a cherished missed flavour after a long patient wait.

 

In central Italy, because the timing of the favas coincides with lambing time, a common antipasto this time of year is a heap of fava pods on the table with a chunk of young Pecorino, aged just 20 days or so, and a fresh loaf of bread alongside: perfectly matched food that sings of spring. Few things can beat this rustic feast. The sweet raw fava beans, the fresh cheese with its aromas of milk and grass, good bread, good  company, a glass of wine: this centuries old ritual is a perfect celebration that connects with the the earth, with its rhythms and cycles.

Stuffed Artichokes

 

I grew up with Maltese style stuffed whole artichokes. These have a very savoury filling of breadcrumbs, parsley, garlic, anchovy and olives, sometimes capers too, which is pushed down between the leaves and into the heart. To eat them each leaf is pulled, the filling eaten, the centre of leaf scraped off and the remains of the leaf piled tidily or untidily to one side of the plate.

I was delighted to discover the Italian way of preparing artichokes, where all the stuff discarded at the side of the plate is removed in advance, so that every delicious mouthful on your plate is one hundred per cent edible.

This does mean more preparation, more work for the cook, but it is so well worth it that I do it every time with one exception. Children seem to enjoy the ritual of scraping leaf by leaf so for kids I leave the artichokes whole.

There are oodles of artichoke recipes in Italy's regional cuisines and many traditional artichoke fillings, literally dozens of ways of cooking the many varieties available through the long artichoke season that runs from October to early May. In Abruzzo and Molise they have a tuna, caper, anchovy and parsley filling. In Calabria they fill with ground meat, pecorino, parsley and breadcrumbs. I have come across but never tasted a Naples recipe for a filling of chopped left over cooked beef and dried mushrooms stewed with tomatoes; when the sauce is thick and much reduced, it is mixed with grated cheese and parsley and used to stuff the "carciofi". Liguria too makes use of dried mushrooms, mixing them with the chopped artichoke stems, parsley, garlic, breadcrumbs, grated cheese, oregano and nutmeg.