the manifesto of good organic food that giovanni, our main farmer, had at his stand at the market. he calls me "corsicheta" as i am apparently as small Corsican.
all of us with the bounty of the table!
from left to right: me, towaldi the dishwasher, alessandro the afternoon bar man, ryan above mirella the pastry cook, jaimi, mona, chris, daniella, gabri the morning bar man, dominico, camilla
The delay between the last post and this one can tell you something crucial about my life in the kitchen right now: it leaves me absolutely exhausted in the evenings, and I must save my little remaining energy for non-virtual social interactions, rather than for writing on this blog. Despite how incredibly draining the kitchen days are (from 7am to at least 4pm, sometimes later), they are days cram-packed with invaluably unique cooking experience, and the hours literally fly by. I am significantly less experienced than most interns I am cooking with (two of which are one year into cooking school, and one who has plenty of past experience working in kitchens and restaurants), but this is simply further encouragement to try harder, put in more effort, listen more carefully, observe more intently, and retain as much as is humanly possible. It has also been very useful in helping me realize how I want to direct my career in food: do I want to work in a kitchen? If so, what kind of kitchen? In pastry, which I am more and more interested in (especially working with our wonderful pastry cook)? If not, do I want to test recipes? Do more the administration jobs? Front of house? So many questions lie ahead...
For the lunch shift, our day begins at 7am, setting up for the day. We write our the inventory sheet, noting the quantities of everything in the kitchen that is available to be cooked with. This is a good time to learn the names of things in Italian, and to distinguish and discern between ingredients (is that speck or prosciutto? grana padano, parmagiano, or pecorino? what type of grapes are these?) We often receive deliveries during this time, which we must go pick up from downstairs, and check for quality before putting away. We have to set up work stations with compost buckets and cutting boards, bowls of grana padano and yogurt for the lunch buffet, and fine and rock salt bowls, as well as various other small tasks that need to be done before the day can really begin. Around 8am, we have a menu meeting with Mona, the chef, or Chris, the sous chef, who have by then looked over the inventory and decided the day's menu. They assign everyone a particular dish, and explain how it will be prepared from start to finish, often with a little history and context (as well as potential variations) as to its place in Italian and/or Roman cooking. In the Chez Panisse tradition, each intern is given a whole project, not just a part of a whole. When I made bruschetta pomodorini yesterday, I didn't just chop the tomatoes while someone else toasted the bread and rubbed it with garlic, while someone else chopped basil and assemble the toasts on the platter. No. Instead, each person is responsible for their dish, from start to finish, from prepping to assembling it on the platter. Of course, we can and do help each other out, as some projects have glitches or people fall behind and need support. But overall, each person has the chance to lead their dish to completion. It works very well. In this whollistic spirit, we also do most of the clean up as well, though we do have a dish washer to help us out for most of the time, as well as our wonderful bartenders who help us set up and take out food.
You guys, I have eaten so much good food so far. While I usually bore, ad nauseum, all of my friends and family with recitations of everything I have eaten, it would truly be going overboard to list each item of food I have eaten in the last five days. I'll focus instead on the highlights: there was a delicious farro pasta with pesto noci, which Camilla pounded out by hand in the mortar and pestal. The walnut pieces were particularly large and fresh, and the herbs (marjoram, oregano, and parsley) blended perfectly with the oil and garlic and pecorino. Just writing about this, I am drawn to the leftovers in my fridge, just a few steps away. There was also the beet and fennel salad with a salsa verde, which was just divine. The perfectly roasted beets and raw fennel were topped with a sauce made with sliced almonds (not chopped: no yucky almond dust!), chopped parsley, capers, and slightly pickled red onions, with generous salt and olive oil. Yum! Chris pointed out a variety of other beet salads the sauce would be good on (cauliflower and beet, cucumber and beet, etc.) Also amazing was the capponata, a slightly sweet eggplant dish with green olives, capers, celery, onions, pine nuts, and a tiny bit of tomato just to bind the sauce together. Mona pointed out it would be even better the next day-- and it was, as the flavors had melded together even more as it sat. Yesterday for a catering event, we made vitella tonnato, which was veal browned then roasted then very thinly sliced (after resting), covered with a mayonaise with capers, lemon, herbs, and anchovies (a variation from the usual tuna).
Some of the best dishes have been the simple ones, the ones that most strongly depend on the amazingly fine quality ingredients the kitchen is stocked with. The caprese I was in charge of Thursday was classic, but the tomatoes were particularly sweet, and the mozzarella! Oh the mozzarella (cow's, not buffalo) was so succuclent that it's milky softness practically melted in my hand as I tried to cut it smootly. The potato and tomato gratin, with delicately cooked onions, also was a hit. And the zucchini alla Romana, which I grilled on the flattop and then marinated with garlic, red wine vinegar, chilli flakes, olive oil and salt, will be a dish I make for many years to come, though I will try to use the traditional addition mint, which we didn't have at the time.
The kitchen is very fast paced, and I am trying to keep up as much as I can. But I am loving it and wish I could feed all of you the delicious cookies our pastry cook makes daily and the show you the glorious garden I look out on as I work! I will try to post pictures soon, but I must admit I have been slacking a bit on the photography department... I've been so busy, as you now know!
I've been in the kitchen for ten hours-- we serve our first meal tomorrow, and there was a loooot of prep work to do... from weeding the garden to making granola to brewing iced tea and coffee to taking in deliveries...and a million dishes (the dish washers don't get back until tomorrow...). It was really fun and the time went by super fast-- it sure helps to love who you work with! Who can really complain about helping Mariella, the pastry cook, make (and taste) half a dozen different kinds of cookies, or about taking a lunch break with the whole team outside in the courtyard, at a long banquet table, with two different pasta dishes, or about tanning one's shoulders in the garden while randomly snacking on cherry tomatoes while weeding?
Still, we are all exhausted and ended the day with a shot of tequila at the Academy bar... Slightly buzzed, and with a basked to organic milk and yogurt, carrots, pepper, and various other provisions from the garden, my roommates and I walked back to our apartment- determined to leave it again quickly to find another bar, and another drink!
I have to be back in the kitchen tomorrow at 7am. Usually Wednesday should be my day off, but it's the first day, and I could learn a lot and help a lot by being there.
So instead of more words, feast your eyes:
our kitchen table, straight from the garden
we'll be making red chili flakes out of these
the courtyard of the academy
the hall where we our staff lunch (oh yeah, and starting tomorrow, serve our guests their meals too!)
This has been a lovely weekend. Last night, Jaimi, Camilla, and I wandered down to Trastevere for dinner and a Saturday evening out, and ended up having a night full of funny little surprises. The three of us descended our mountain (as I am now calling it) through a series of downhill slopes and gut clenchingly steep stairs (dreading, of course, the way home...). We didn't bring a map as Jaimi and I had a miscommunication about who had it, so we were free to wander without aim. We had eaten a late lunch and we weren't too hungry, so there was really no rush anyway, and we decided to get a drink first. We stumbled upon a small little bar with an outdoor patio (outdoor is a MUST in this weather, since most places to seem to have air conditioning...), which was cleverly called "Bar." A large beer was only 2.5 euros! So we split one of those and settled outside with what seemed to be a mix of locals and tourists. The atmosphere was lively and everyone was mingling and chatting. One girl was sketching a guy across the patio, and every generation seemed to be represented. After being hit on a bit by some old Italian men ("are you below or above 18?"), we thought we would use their stereotypical Italian-ness to our advantage-- surely they would know a good place to eat! The man, who's name was Gino, gave us three names of good, cheap restaurants in the area, and we headed off confident of a good dinner to come.
And it was! The little hole in the wall trattoria, Mario's, was a little overly warm, but we managed to get a place by the window. The waitress was eager to take our order, but being massive foodies, we took forever deciding what we wanted, and she had to come back several times. We split a liter of red wine (only 6 euros!) and a delicious antipasti of roman artichokes, which were my favorite part of the meal- they literally melted in my mouth like butter. The hearts were served whole, with the stem, and all of it was edible. The artichoke and the sauce it came with melted into one another, and it was impossible to distinguish between the two. Never bitter, never stringy, they were really magnificent. Artichokes (carciofo) are a big deal in Rome, and I hope to be able to make them at least half as well when I leave here. Jaimi ordered a lovely and simple pasta dish and Camilla ordered beans with pieces of pork fat, which was flavorful but a bit runny and heavy. I ordered saltimboccaalla Romana, which was amazingly tasty. Saltimbocca, which means "jump in the mouth," consists in Rome of veal cutlets with proscuitto and sage, cooked in Marsala wine and butter. Needless to say, we were stuffed, and (gasp!) I didn't even consider dessert.
Unfortunately, Camilla then realized she no longer had her wallet. This sad turn of events led us back to the bar we had been in previously After asking everyone she could, we hoped it was possibly back at the apartment and that we would find it upon arriving home (we didn't and poor Camilla had to call her bank at 3 in the morning when we returned to cancel her card). The lining upon the cloud was that the bar was even livelier that earlier in the night, and we ended up staying there for the next several hours. We met a politcal journalist, a middle aged couple from Ohio, a young guy who worked for the World Food Organization, an elderly (like 80 year old) artist who drew us little pictures on napkins and tried to make us sing along with him to Italian songs... It was a very gay night full of chatting and round after round of cheap but not quite cold enough beer in a beautiful Roman piazza, and we left delighted. It took us a loooot of wandering to find our way back home, but we were in high spirits and enjoyed the exploring process.
This morning, we met Mona at the Academy to go to the flea market with her. The market is gigantic, and sells everything and anything, used and new, from established stands to blankets on the floor. We could have spent hours and hours there, even after Mona headed home, but the heat and the hunger really started getting to us, so we left in search of...shade and food, of course. We ended up walking along the river and through the Jewish ghetto, where Jaimi bought some refreshing pear gelato and Camilla some succulent Tiramisu gelato. We eventually made it to the Pantheon, with some postcard and bathroom stops along the way, and had a quiet but mediocre lunch in a side alley. We took the bus home, and on the way to the bus stop, I savored some peach gelato, which more than hit the spot in the heat. It was so hard to pick a flavor! I'm always torn by my classic favorites, like limone or nocciolo, but equally pulled to the unknown flavors... Good thing I'm here for three months!
at the bar called Bar, pre-dinner
same bar, post-dinner, with an old artist man
the tree lined flea market (the picture does not do justice to the crowds or the heat...)
the entrance to the flea market
We lounged around for the rest of the afternoon, and I took my first Roman nap. As it is Sunday, we weren't sure what we were going to do for dinner- everything is closed, and our apartment kitchen is not yet stocked! All we had was a tin can of sardine in olive oil I brought from Paris and some homemade plum and apricot jam Mona had given us from the pantry. Luckily, I ran into Mona outside, and she gave me some pasta, pecorino, an onion, and a big slice of watermelon. Even more wonderfully, she gave me a basket and reminded me of the garden outside! I walked out and picked a dozen tomatoes of all different sizes (they are so varied and so delicious), a few plums, some basil, chili pepper, and a fig for the walk back to my apartment. I tossed the pasta with some pan fried onions, tomatoes, chilis, basil, sardines, and olive oil, showered it with pecorino, and was more than satisfied! I've already fallen head over heels for this magic garden, just minutes from us, and I look more and more forward to working in it. I promise to post pictures of it soon!
Italy stole my heart the moment I entered her borders. When Marco’s methane-guzzling Fiat began to make its way through northern Italy towards his home in Bologna, I was already giddy with the landscape around me, making me compulsively eager to explore it, yet still ringing some deep chord of familiarity in the Mediterranean me. Especially after visiting central and eastern Europe, Italy already felt like home. The rocky hills covered in cypresses and olive greens and the small, jagged stone walls which cut up the fields reminded me immediately not only of Southern France and Corsica, but even of Southern California.
We arrived in Marco’s parents’ house just in time to be gloriously fed. After over 13 hours on the road, we were starving and were running off of only cookies, some baguette and viennoiseries we had picked up on the way out of Paris, and a rather tasty but light tabbouleh I had made out of some leftovers in my father’s fridge. Marco and Cal had warned me to halt all snacking as we approached our time as arrival, as Marco’s family knew how to feed hungry Americans. And so they did! Immediately upon arrival, we were treated to exclamations and embraces of welcome, as well as a sumptuous multi-course dinner. Our primi consisted of orcchiette with eggplant, tomatoes, mozzarella, and olive oil. The secondi, which Marco’s mother brought out all at once, consisted of slowly roasted lamb, roasted potatoes, and a beautifully fragrant tomato stew of veal. The table was also stocked with delicious snacks to add to one’s plate, such as whole sundried tomatoes in olive oil with crunchy capers, and mini peppers stuffed with tuna and spices. The salad, scattered with pine nuts and shavings of magnificently tangy parmesan cheese, also circled the table throughout the meal, followed by its olive oil and balsamic accompaniment. Marco’s father spoke to me in near perfect French about his horse breeding and his complimentary thoughts about French cuisine, and Marco’s mother made us feel so welcome with her encouragement to take yet another helping of EVERYthing.
This sentiment of familiarity only increased as we continued to drive south. The landscape became increasingly dry and the vegetation’s silver-green and hay coloring really struck me as straight out of Corsica. Perhaps the resemblance is really not as striking as I am expressing, but after all the other terrains I saw on my trip, it really felt like coming home. We arrived in Rome around 8:45pm, just as the last rays of the sun were fading away. This is the most beautiful time to see a city, its streets dim but still glowing, and I think I would have found anything at least lovely at this hour. But Roma isn’t anything! It is the Eternal City, the Caput Mundi! The American Academy of Rome is located in the Southwest part of the city, on a hill that overlooks the main sights of Rome below. Arriving at the gate of the Academy, I was given my key and a note to join Mona, the chef of the kitchen, at a restaurant nearby after putting my things down. After some fumbling and confusion, I found my apartment at the top story of the apartment building across the street from the main Academy entrance. The apartment is of a good size, with a big main room in the middle and two large-ish bedrooms off to the side. The building itself is bright orange and the windows in the main living room have an incredible view of Rome. Mona later told us that the view was the most famous cityscape perspective, used over and over in countless old Roman movies.
After saying goodbye to Marco and Cal, I met Mona and my two co-interns and roommates at a pizzeria about five minutes away from the apartment. They had finished eating, and I ordered pasta from an extremely warm Sicilian woman who basically just told me what I was having: homemade ravioli stuffed with ricotta and basil, and covered in a rich and creamy tomato sauce. The four of us got to know each other and all asked each other dozens of questions to try to get more acquainted as fast as possible, explaining where we were from, who we knew in common, how we had come to be there. Camilla, the intern with whom I share a room, is from Scotland, while Jaimi, who lives in the other room, is originally from Florida but has been going to school at CIA Hyde Park in New York. We are all three around the same age and have been getting along splendidly!
After returning to the sweltering heat of the apartment, we chatted over some sweets our Sicilian host had given us in parting. Camilla and Jaimi are both so incredibly sweet, and we have so much in common! All three us are super interested in sustainability and making delicious and healthy food, and eating slow meals, accessible to everyone. We all love to eat and taste everything, as is to be expected from being in the program, but we also love talking endlessly about food issues and enjoy long, lounging meals. By the time I had unpacked my many bags, it was past one in the morning and I was very sorely ready for bed. After saying goodnight to my fellow girls, despite the exhaustion I felt, I had trouble falling asleep in anticipation of all the fun learning and exploring ahead!
ADDED NEXT MORNING:
Got up this morning to write the above post. Just as I was finishing up, Mona called our apartment and offered us to come with her to the farmer's market down the street. We met her at the Academy and she gave us a tour of the grounds, which no pictures can do justice to (though I didn't have my camera, so I didn't try... but I will). There is a big green expanse scattered with trees and benches, creating a contemplative seeming place, though Mona said people are rarely very quiet there. She explained that hanging out there before or after our shifts was a perfect way to either relax or to meet other scholars and fellows. In the gardens is the highest point in Rome, where Galileo demonstrated the telescope (thereby changing the way anyone willing to believe him saw the world). The vegetable garden was a bit beaten down from the summer break, but we still managed to try some wonderful figs, tomatoes, smell the bay leaf bushes, taste the plums, etc.
On the way to the market, we stopped by a cafe for some absolutely mind blowing espresso, which we drank at the bar and paid for at the back counter. The market itself was lovely, and goes on every day except Sunday. Even though I will get all my food at the Academy's kitchen, I may want to wander down there every once in a while, just for the experience. Mona knew a lot of the farmers and introduced us enthusiastically to them, and they were very warm to us. On the way back to our apartment, we got a tour of the inside of the academy, which included a tour of the kitchen and pantry, which are top-notch and very excitingly stocked. The inside dining room, where meals are served in winter, is beautiful (though I would still rather eat outside, especially in the sweltering heat...).
After parting with Mona, who told us to call her later, the three of us headed back to the apartment to pop open a bottle of very chilled Italian white wine and chat with excitement about food and Rome and everything else, and practiced our Italian a bit. After several hours, we realized we were hungry and headed out for some pizza down the street. Later tonight, we plan on going out to dinner one last time before we are able to eat at the work/the Academy kitchen (starting Monday). If this all sounds a bit like a dream, know that it feels like one too.
Now all I need to do is actually start working! :)
a random shrine to Mary
my backyard
my cosy room
amaaaazing esspresso with camilla, jaimi, and mona on the way to the market this morning
