All about Almonds [and Pesto]: a Superfood to get Nuts over

My earliest memories of enjoying nuts were at Christmastime. It was a tradition in my house to buy various types, still in the shells, to open with a nutcracker and make an absolute mess. I had a system: go for the walnuts, followed by pecans, then almonds, and maybe, if I was desperate, the Brazilian nuts and the hazelnuts.

I wasn’t really a nuts person unless it was peanut butter, and peanuts aren’t even nuts.

Over the years, my tastebuds shifted and their preferences expanded. Although peanut butter remains to be my favorite spread (I know, I know… what stereotypical U.S. American thing to say), I came to appreciate other nut varieties in buttered form, particularly almonds.

I’ve used almond meal and flour without much thought, because being a gluten free cook desensitizes you to what others may view as weird. Gluten free flours have different properties that make them excel in certain recipes over another. Almond flour, I find, works wonders in any baked good with a delicate crumb, such as piecrust, shortbread cookies, or biscuits.

Almonds seem like an international food. You see it in what people refer to as national dishes, and have been traditionally made from/with almonds since the recipe was made.

Recently, I had the exciting opportunity to collaborate with Nuts.com, an amazing family-owned company that sells, you guessed it, nuts. But they don’t just stop there. They sell practically anything you could want, including a huge variety of gluten free baking necessities, snacks, coffee and tea, and more. Their prices are more than reasonable, and most of the time I could expect shipping to be next day or within the same week. Their packaging is fun and quirky, and they always send a small sample package of something different with each purchase.

The company has been around since 1929, and their level of food quality and customer satisfaction had impressed me from the time I discovered their site. So when I was given the ability to talk about the amazing almond, a super hero for many diets, how could I not?

The shift of dietary perspectives has brought about the demand for quality, non-processed and unindustrialized food for many. More and more people are choosing wholefoods over junk. The terms ‘gluten free’ and ‘paleo’ are seen and understood almost everywhere, and so the usage of almond flour in baking isn’t as rare as it used to be.

High in fat and in protein, this wonderful superfood helps balance blood sugar, something I personally struggle with. It can be enjoyed in a number of ways, and it is perfect as a handful to jumpstart your metabolism, additional protein to any meal, and a fantastic indulgence. If you are wanting to increase your intake of this fabulous all around health nut, here are a few recipes I’ve made in the past that you could try:

Homemade Almond Butter

Late Night Chocolate Muffins

Paleo Pumpin Birthday "Cheese"cake

Primal Birthday Brownies

Mashed Potato Biscuit Hearts

When I first received the task, I asked friends and family and fans of Meals with Morri alike what I could make with almonds. Many voted for almond cookies or stir-fry, two fantastic ideas. However, being in Italy, CK and I decided on incorporating almonds in pesto.

Pesto is traditionally made with pine nuts, but I tend to avoid them for two reasons: one, I’m not really a fan of them; and two, they are goitrogenic unless cooked, and I tend to avoid foods that could potentially inhibit my thyroid’s health performance. But the beauty of pesto is that it is a labor of love. The process of making it using a mortar and pestle really shown through upon tasting it, and using almonds (or any sort of nut, really, like pistachios or walnuts) didn’t take anything away from the final product.

It was pesto, stupendous pesto, one that we raved over and wanted to make more of. The ingredients were healthful, and the usage of almonds just made it all the more delicious. So the next time you have an abundance of almonds, have a weekend that celebrates them in a variety of dishes, from coffee cake with streusel topping to stir fried sliced almonds with green beans.

Almond Pesto

2 Garlic cloves
40 g Fresh basil leaves
30 g Raw almonds, finely chopped**
40 g Pecorino Sardo
40 ml Olive oil
Sea salt, to taste

You have two options for making pesto. The easiest would be to simply put everything into the food processor, but it takes away a lot of the fun and, in CK’s and my humble opinion, the flavor. The way we did it, and the way I’m going to talk about, is using the mortar and pestle. The larger, the better. (Ours is on the medium-small side. We were able to do the entire recipe, but it required one person to mix and the other person to spoon back in the escaping pesto along the sides.)

Put the garlic clove pieces into the mortar and churn the pestle in strong, even strokes until it becomes a paste.
In small batches, add the basil, and break down the leaves to a creamy consistency (the pieces will not be regular, but the texture is significantly more smooth than if you would make pesto with a processor).
Follow with the crushed almonds (we used the food processor for this).
Incorporate the cheese until the color is constant and the texture is smooth, then add the olive oil.
Add the sea salt.

Serve immediately on, well, anything really, or refrigerate in a tightly lidded jar. While it may lose its bright green color the longer it sits, its flavor only intensifies. But considering how good it is, I doubt it will last very long in the house anyway.

Buon appetito!

Ti Amo, Roma: Life Changing Pizza

There is something about Rome, about the Italian people, really, that truly opens your eyes. Every culture has contributed and continues to contribute positively to the world, and it feels like I never really understood the joy of eating until I came here.

I will be here until May, and during this time I’ve broken down my goals to certain days of the week. While CK is off teaching, I’m at home job searching, learning chemistry, practicing Italian and Irish, working on my drawing technique, light housework and, of course, cooking.

The way Italians think about food is contagious. They know how to eat and how to enjoy it with others. There is such pride in their food. It is fresh, wholesome, simple, and traceable (I mean, how would you not be able to visit the place of your favorite cheese if they didn’t). But the simplicity of their dishes brings out the complexity of flavor. You can taste and name every ingredient, and all the while feeling daring.

Having CK as a partner has encouraged me to try new things, mostly because his willingness to participate, and has been wonderfully supportive of me facing my fears about food. Over Valentine’s Day weekend, we made donuts. They were delicious flops, completely oil-filled and cakey, but for the first time in years I had a deep fried, sugary food.

Another weird thing about me is that I struggle with the idea of more than one carbohydrate being on a plate. That would mean no bread to soak up the remaining red sauce from a pasta dish at dinner (if I could), or have waffles and hash browns as part of the same breakfast, or rice and potatoes in the same stew. It wasn’t to the point of me squealing in disgust, but the concept just didn’t make sense to me. It was weird and oddly frightening.

In Italy there is a type of pizza called pizza patate: a white pizza with, you guessed it, potatoes on top. When CK first described the dish to me, I was appalled. Why on Earth would you do that? What was the appeal? Did it even taste good? To which CK replied yes, indeed it does.

I’ve experienced a lot of healing moments since 2014. Despite the hardship of living alone in Malta, I came to really feel connected to my body and honoring its needs for the first time. Food was no longer something to be afraid of, but embraced and shared. And I fully admit that Italian cheeses have ruined it for me: I’ve yet to taste better than my first Mozzarella di Bufala Compana ball, or the sacred moment of placing a melty forkful of smoked Scamorza straight from the hot oven and into my mouth.

Since having the donut, and seeing that the world did not, in fact, end, I wanted to see what else my fears of food deprived me off. And for over a year, CK and I would talk about pizza patate in passing, and for the first time since then, I wasn’t squicked by the idea, but rather intrigued.

Last weekend, as we were recovering from Week 1 of Shaun T’s Insanity workout (yep, we’re both doing it!), we wanted to celebrate with a thin pizza. Surprisingly, I think I said I wanted to see what pizza patate was all about, and so that is what we did.

We think we can improve the toppings a bit, but the crust… the crust was a game changer.

Both CK and I believe it is the best we’ve ever made, and most certainly the best that I’ve ever had. It held together beautifully, and the taste reminded me of a good, thin pizza crust. We do want to play around with the rise, perhaps using sparkling water instead of still (this trick is wonderful for bagels, by the way), but we’ll keep you updated. We also used this dough to make a huge, albiet bursting, calzona. 

Thin Pizza Crust (recipe ratio and technique adapted from this recipe)

1 package Active dry or fresh yeast
1 tsp. Honey (use coconut sugar for a vegan option)
240 ml warm water, 105-115°F (40-46°C)
120 g Teff flour
120 g Glutinous rice flour
120 g Chickpea flour
1 tsp. Sea salt
1 tbsp. Extra-virgin olive oil, plus additional for brushing

In a small bowl, dissolve the yeast and honey in 60 ml warm water.
In a large bowl, combine the flour and the salt, then add the oil, the yeast mixture, and the remaining 180 ml of water.
Mix until the entire mixture forms a ball.
Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface.
Knead by hand until the dough is smooth and firm.
Cover the dough with a clean, damp towel and let it rise in a cool spot for about 2 hours.
Divide the dough into 2 balls.
Work each ball by pulling down the sides and tucking under the bottom of the ball.
Repeat 4 or 5 times, and then on a smooth, clean surface (not floured), roll the ball under the palm of your hand until the top of the dough is smooth and firm.
Cover the dough with a damp towel and let rest 1 hour. (At this point, the balls can be wrapped in plastic and refrigerated for up to 2 days.)
Preheat oven to 500°F (260°C) or highest temp.
Lightly oil a medium-large cookie sheet with extra-virgin olive oil on parchment paper.
Roll out one of the dough ball, on a lightly floured surface (I typically use a roller for this part), to the shape of your cookie sheet.
Carefully transfer dough to cookie sheet, lightly press and stretch out to the edges of sheet.
Add your favorite sauce (not too much) and toppings (again, not too much).
Cook for 10 - 12 minutes or more depending on the thickness of crust due to size of pan you used.

Each pizza ball makes 1 pizza, or two servings.

Eating Crespelle in time for Pancake Day

Every year since Meals with Morri began, I’ve missed two extremely important days of the year. More often than not, it would be a day later when everyone shares their take on the celebrations, and more often than not, I’d curse loudly.

But I was determined this year. I finally made it, and it came out beautifully. Finally, I was able to celebrate Mardi Gras, also known as Pancake Day!

As a kid, I didn’t eat pancakes as a way to indulge before Lent. I usually wore green, gold, and purple plastic beads and masks at school, and ate King Cake at home. Beyond that, it was just a fun way to mark the forty days before Easter. But with a food blog, I was more focused on pancakes.

There are two days that specifically celebrate pancakes during the year (as if you’d need a reason): Mardi Gras, or Shrove Tuesday, which falls on various dates depending on the year, and National Pancake Day (U.S.), which falls on September 26th. The former was historically to use up all of the indulgent ingredients before fasting. The latter is widely celebrated but is informal, kind of like someone saying:

“Hey man, we should get, like, as many people as possible to eat pancakes today.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”

I’m celebrating pancakes today. And upon further speculation, I realize Meals with Morri needs more pancake recipes.

Every country seems to take a different spin of what a pancake is. CK is a firm believer that pancakes and crêpes are different food dishes, and will often jokingly sigh and say, “They say pancakes, but they mean crêpes.” Personally, I think they are related: both are a flat griddled cake that varies in thinness, although he is technically right. Culinarily speaking, there is a difference between the two, and how they are eaten varies. Pancakes, thin or thick, are typically laid flat and eaten with toppings whatever ingredients you can think of. They also can have additional flavors added to the batter. Crêpes, however, can and do have toppings, but they also have fillings and are either folded or wrapped to accommodate them. Other than spices, adding anything remotely lumpy to crêpe batter will lead to a lumpy crêpe. And that's no buono.

But to celebrate being in Italy, I’ve included crêpes as part of Pancake Day. Why? Because, to me, pancakes and crêpes are family, and each country makes the dish its own unique way. Italians call their version crespelle. They appear to have the same ratio of ingredients as the French crêpe, but they have a multitude of uses I wouldn’t think to incorporate for recipes. They are baked, used much like lasagna noodles. They are cut up into slivers and put in soups. But they are also used like I have seen them prepared: filled and topped with amazing combinations. 

It's wonderful.

I’ve made crêpes twice before now, but this was a dish that CK believed I’d outdone myself with. The batter was perfectly thin and the crespelle themselves were easily flipped. There were no modifications I wanted to make on the flavor. He was right: we could do a lot of different things with this crespelle recipe. And believe me, we will.

I even made a video on my YouTube channel to show you how to make it!

I modified Manuela Zangara’s recipe for crespelle, which can be found on her food blog Manu’s Menu. The filling was the result of my asking a few of my Italian friends what fillings I should use, and someone replied by saying radicchio and cheese. Thus, radicchio and cheese.

Happy Mardi Gras (and Pancake Day), everyone! 

Crespelle with Radicchio and Gorgonzola Piccante

For the crespelle
350 ml milk
2 eggs
75 g buckwheat flour
90 g rice flour
30 ml melted butter
1 pinch salt

For the filling
1 Small red onion, finely diced
1 Garlic clove, finely chopped
1 head of Radicchio longo*, thinly sliced
200 g Gorgonzola Piccante**
100 g Mascarpone
15 g butter
1 tbsp. (10 g) Rice flour

Seasoned red sauce, hot, for topping***

Heat a batch of red sauce on low heat in a saucepan, and either keep warm or set aside for later.
In a medium bowl or pitcher, combine the egg and milk to form a mixture, followed by the dry ingredients and melted butter.
Set it aside for ten to fifteen minutes.
In either a crêpe pan or a large, flat sauté pan (I used a no chemical non-stick pan), melt a small piece of butter or a drizzle of olive oil on medium heat.
When the pan is ready, lift and tilt the pan sideways.
Use a ladle to pour the batter on the lowest side and swirl until the batter covers the bottom completely.
Let the crespella (sing. for crespelle) cook until the surface dries, and then flip to cook the other side for another thirty seconds or so.
Repeat the process until all of the batter has been used up, and set aside to be used immediately or stored for future meals.
Put another sauté pan (or the pan you used to make the crespelle) on medium heat, and lightly drizzle with oil.
Follow with the garlic, onion, and radicchio; cook until soft, and set aside.
Lastly, put the cheeses and butter in a small saucepan on medium-high heat, either directly over the stovetop or with a double boiler; once melted and thoroughly mixed, slowly add the rice flour.
Bring together the ingredients, the radicchio and melted cheese as a filling, and fold the crespelle to your preferred style and shape.
Top with the warm red sauce and serve hot.

Makes 8 crespelle.

*Radicchio comes in a few different varieties, but you will mostly find what are referred to as long (like Belgian Endive) or as a head (like a small cabbage) in your local market.
**Any semi-soft blue cheese would work in this recipe.
***Red sauce = tomato sauce.

(Completely unrelated, but there are apparently parts of Russia where it’s not Pancake Day, it’s Pancake Week. Seriously, why are we not doing this?)

When in Rome, make a Cheese Plate (Part V of V)

This is it: the final cheese plate. It has taken almost two months, but work is picking up at the office, and it feels great to be busy. I would have finished this earlier, but I’m also grieving the loss of my nine-year-old cat Miette. 

It feels strange to lose someone so dear to you while you’re abroad. On one hand, not being in the same place they were in removes the aspect of being constantly reminded that their presence is no longer there. On the other hand, the idea of not seeing her when I visit for the holidays or when I Skype my parents… it’s a blow to the heart, for sure.

A quick eulogy.

Miette had a tender tummy (like me). She struggled to hold food down, and we ended up putting her on a gluten free diet. Our cats have always been given supplements, special kitty litter, and different meal types (wet and dry) from companies that value quality for our four-legged family members as much as we do.

Finding out that Miette had passed while I was abroad brought about similar grieving patterns you would expect: the five stages of grief and loss. Part of me wishes it were a sick joke. Part of me thinks that it was my fault because I wasn’t there for her (or for my other cat, Lilli, who grieved heavily and searched for her for weeks). Part of me is grateful she was loved and taken care of until the end, but also angry with myself and in general. And a huge part of me struggles to fall asleep until after one a.m., even a month later, because we all know where thoughts can go in the darkness of night when you’re grieving.

She was a wonderful and slightly insane cat. She was picky. She insisted on waking people up at four in the morning to turn on the sink for her to drink water. She chaperoned CK’s and my walks around the neighborhood. She was fiercely loyal and she loved with all of her being. And goodness, that sandpaper tongue… She was the perfect model, who posed for photos and always looked at the lens.

She loved the weirdest foods too. She loved coconut milk and tried to eat avocado (they aren’t good for kitties, so stop them immediately when they do). She and Lilli would sneak onto the counters and eat meat or animal fats had been left out.

She was weird. She was obnoxious. She was sweet. She was family. She was part of this awesome dynamic kitty duo that slept with me under the covers. She made having a tender tummy something to bond over and not feel wrong for. She was there for me through heartbreak, through high school, college, and graduate school. She was there when Meals with Morri was created. It feels so bizarre that a lot of things are continuing on and she won’t be there to see it.

The sadness is lessening each day, but I will always miss her and grateful to have had such an amazing friend in my life.
 

During the last week of August, CK and I completed the South Italy cheese plate. Instead of trying to find food and wine pairings, like I had with the previous ones, I decided to make homemade buckwheat crackers and cracked open a cider and beer. The regions were Abruzzo, Apulia, Basilicata, Calabria, Compania, and Molise. One cheese was used to represent Calabria and Compania, since the cheese is found in both.

I apologize in advance for the descriptions to not be particularly descriptive. It’s been a while, and I’ve forgotten individual tastes and flavors. However, like the patterns of the previous regions, this particular region emphasized on mild flavors and semi-hard cheeses, usually pear shaped (which I will get into in a moment), showing that mild doesn’t have to mean tasteless. Almost all are considered pasta filata cheeses with a spicy aftertaste depending on the cheese’s maturation.

From Abruzzo, we tried Pecorino di Farindola Stagionato. It is a slightly piquant, grassy flavored cheese, with a small peppery aftertaste that is just delightful. 

We next tried Pallone di Gravina, a cheese found in both Apulia and Basilicata. A stretched-curd cheese, it’s hung to mature, resulting in the cheese being either pear-shaped or round.

From Basilicata, although this cheese is found throughout the South, we tasted Caciocavello Silano, a D.O.P. cheese. The spiciness comes from the aging process in the cellars along with Sila’s climate. It is rich cream color throughout, but with sporadic holes.

Caciotto represented Calabria and Compania, although I am curious whether or not there is a longer name to it. I recall this one being the most mild of the cheeses, kind if like a young provolone.

Finally, it took me quite a while to find a cheese from Molise, but it was a hidden gem in the form of Caciocavello di Agnone. Another pear-shaped cheese, its production in Molise is recognized and included in the list of traditional Italian food products (PAT). Its origins are also considered to be quite old, and perhaps the cheese with the oldest history we had tried.

This concludes my five-part Italian Cheese Plate Project! Despite trying over twenty different cheeses, this doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the many cheeses Italy has brought to the world. There is still a cheese from Sardegna that my Sardinian friend at the office wants me to try, and if any of you can recommend other cheeses from the regions, please let me know! 

I also have another project I want to look into: French butter. I finished a book on Julia Child's exploits in France (also in Germany and Norway) where she raved over how each region had its own butter, consisting of different flavors, textures, and uses.

Luckily, I don’t think CK will mind.

When in Rome, make a Cheese Plate (Part IV of V)

While I didn’t finish writing up the cheese plates by the time I left for Malta to resume my internship, I did hold on to my notes of the cheeses for the remaining two. For both plates, I struggled with pairings, if only because many sites reference wine and cheese pairings and not necessarily food and cheese. I paired the cheeses with mostarda and jam, but it seemed like these cheeses all paired with the tomato sauce the best. Everything else was a mediocre combination.

The other struggle I had was the time limit. I only had a week to finish three, and so the last two were rather rushed. That, and I wanted to spend as much time with CK without the camera lens between us before continuing on with the long distance (LD) status.

And we did.

The fourth cheese plate combines two regions that aren’t near each other whatsoever; they aren’t even connected to Italy’s mainland. The two I’m referring to make up Insular Italy, Sicily (Sicilia) and Sardinia (Sardegna).

As with many of these regions, I didn’t know much about either. They are Italian, but they are also immensely proud of being Sicilian or Sardinian. As they are not connected to the mainland, they are culturally different in many ways. And one of many things that distinguish these two regions is the food culture.

Since they are not connected and nowhere near each other, their cheeses were profoundly different. Both were saltier than any of the cheeses CK and I had tasted so far. We also picked two cheeses for both regions, of which one was represent with a DOP cheese and the other a cheese that happened to be offered in Eataly.

Now… about the wine. I couldn’t find Sardinian wine, sadly, so I chose a Sicilian wine to pair with both. I was rather disappointed with the pairing, to be honest. It didn’t fit with any of the cheeses, and following the cheese plate we realized that it just wasn’t a wine we preferred. It seemed too sour, and equally too pithy, for our liking. The wine we had was a 2011 Irmana Il Nero d'Avola E Il Frappato, from Sicily. Perhaps it was meant to be a table wine for a certain type of dish, but as I said, we just didn’t enjoy it like we had the others.

For Sicilia, we chose Ragusano (DOP) and Secondo Sale. The Ragusano is a dry cheese, but its buttery flavor was a lot like the butter Mama Dazz ordered from the Amish. It had a sour, pungent aftertaste that wasn’t exactly smoky, but reminded me of cooking over an open fire. The Secondo Sale, or “Second Salting”, was sharp and smoky cheese with glorious bits of whole black peppercorns throughout the cheese. It was so buttery, the natural oils beaded on top of the cheese.

For Sardegna, we chose Fiore Sardo (DOP) and RE Priamo*. The Fiore Sardo had also beaded natural oils onto the surface, and while sour, it wasn’t as pungent as the Ragusano. The RE Priamo, or whatever it is actually called, was the softest cheese on the plate as well as the most mild. It was sweet and buttery, but not tasteless, and had notes of tomato.

As mentioned, I really struggled with the pairings, if only because these cheeses were meant to be topped on some homemade tomato sauce. I was a bit discouraged with how it came together, and I’m still flinching over the presentation of the last one, but the cheeses were quite delightful. The lesson here is that I really want to travel to these different regions to taste their cheeses, although Eataly had definitely opened my eyes to what is out there.

* To this day I am still confused about the name of this cheese. Its name was on display as I’ve typed it here, and it says it originates from Sardegna. If anyone knows anything about this cheese, please comment below!

When in Rome, make a Cheese Plate (Part III of V)

After three cheese plates, CK and I started to see patterns. With the first cheese plate, we saw an array of fresh and soft cheeses. With the second, we saw cross-cultural appreciation of creaminess and hints of blue marble. Now, with the third, we saw hardness, aging, and Italy’s best-kept secret food combination.

Northeast Italy is made up of four regions: Emilia-Romagna; Friuli-Venezia Giulia, Trentino-Alto Adige; and Veneto.

This was an interesting cheese plate to create. It was simple, rustic, highly cheese-focused in comparison to the others. It was also the easiest to make (it took longer to pick out a wine than it did finding the cheeses). I was quite proud of the fact that, one, I was able to find all four region’s cheeses and, two, they all have PDO/DOP status. You may also notice that there were only three pairings on the plate along with the cheeses. This is because every cheese could be and was paired with vinegar or honey. The Grana Padano was also eaten with olives, just to be different.

This was also the first cheese plate that the wine went beautifully with all four cheeses and the pairings. The wine was a 2011 Allegrini Palazzo della Torre, from the Veneto region. It is a lovely wine, with a balance in sweetness and fullness that isn’t overpowering and absolutely luscious in between bites of cheese dipped in honey or balsamic vinegar.

From Emilia-Romagna came the fantastic and infamous Parmigiano-Reggiano. It’s a popular cheese here (as in, it completely fills an entire shelf unit in Eataly’s cheese department), and has similar notes to Parmesan or Grana Padano (strong flavors, a great pasta/topping cheese). A sharp cheese with a sweet end-note, it brings a smoky, almost spicy finish to any dish you can think of. CK and I thought the combination of this cheese with the honey was a match made in heaven. This was the secret I was telling you about. Pairing honey with this cheese was something of a cheese nirvana moment for me, sort of like the apple and peanut butter in the dairy world. And we all know how much I love that combination.

Montasio represented Friuli-Venezia Giulia. It’s a very mild cheese with a tantalizingly rounded aroma that reminded us of a mild swiss. This cheese is very similar to Trentino’s Asiago, only less pungent just slightly harder. It went beautifully with both pairings. Alas, I believe I was turned around in taking the photos, as I photographed the Montasio twice… Anyway, Asiago is quite the surprise. It has a similar aroma to Gruyere, only more mild in pungency and spicier.

Finally, Veneto’s Grana Padano, another popular cheese. Like Parmigiano-Reggiano, it had its own shelving unit stock-full of huge wedges. It isn’t a strong as the other cheese, but it does have a sharp quality that is more savory than it was sweet. When paired with honey, the cheese seemed to take on the sweetness as its own flavor, becoming a sort of honey fudge to me. It was delicious and rather rich, but we both felt that the vinegar paired significantly better with it.

I noticed that there was a spectrum to the pairings’ compatibility. We tried the cheeses with both the vinegar and the honey separately, sipping on the wine in between. Two of the cheeses excelled with both pairings equally (Montasio and Asiago), while the other two remained loyal team-vinegar (Grana Padano) or team-honey (Parmigiano-Reggiano) through and through.

So although it wasn’t necessarily the prettiest cheese plate, it was a satisfying one nonetheless.

When in Rome, make a Cheese Plate (Part II of V)

With two cheese plates down, I’ve reflected on national pride. National pride looks different to different people. Sometimes it’s a flag, an ethnic identity, an ideological belief. Sometimes, it’s a standard of living, a way of living, and a job well done.

With Italy, I’ve come to see much of the country’s national pride in the food.

I’m amazed by the cheeses here. Each region, sometimes down to a specific village or town, has a cheese to be proud of. Each region has a heritage, and a responsibility to uphold such a proud lineage of gastronomic proportions. The cheeses, and the wines, tell a story of where they come from, often with something special to remember them by. I will always savor how Mozzarella di Bufala Compana tastes, by itself and with quality balsamic vinegar. I will always appreciate Scamorza affumicata’s smokiness, or how the Northwest Cheese Plate brought with it a new-found appreciation for blue cheeses.

Before I go into describing this cheese plate, I must say that how Europe treats and views food is a breath of fresh air that I hope the United States will completely embody one day. I think we have lost our national pride in foods that goes beyond wines. Sure, we joke about the Midwest deep fat frying everything, or how California is one big vineyard, or New York’s bagels, or Chicago’s deep-dish pizza, or Appalachia being moonshine central, or, in my home state Virginia, the honey-baked ham. We have a history of food beyond the stereotypes, and I think the country has lost that pride with the replacement of factory processing and quantity over quality. We hide where food comes from, mostly because various corporations don’t want us to know. And while I agree in keeping a sanitary production of everything food related, I believe we’ve removed the humanity in what we eat. Almost everything I’ve eaten in Malta, although it is more so in Rome, tells the consumer exactly where it comes from on the label, sometimes down to the individual farm and the address. That’s a 'think global, act local’ mentality that I wish every place in the world included in its national pride, and something I think will be incorporated into my country’s pride in the near future.

Northwest Italy is made up of the following administrative regions: Aosta Valley (Valle d’Aosta); Lombardy (Lombardia); Piedmont (Piemonte); and Liguria. Every region either touches France or Switzerland, so there is likely some cross-national cuisine action going on or an Alpine culture that combines the neighboring regions’ cuisines into something spectacular (for example, the national languages in Valle d’Aosta are Italian and French). But each region is singular and individual, with different species of grapes that become fantastic wines, local languages, and cuisine specialties (Liguria is famed for being the original place of pesto, an important and very popular sauce throughout Italy as a whole).

It was hard to find the cheeses I was hoping to highlight, but with Eataly boldly labeling the regions of where their cheeses came from, I made do with what was there. Liguria was the hardest region to find a cheese, although from my research it seemed like blue goat cheese was something that came from there and so I found Erborinato di Capra as a substitute. We did find a wine that came from the Ligurian region (a DOC to boot), however, so I hope that will make up for it.

Because the cheeses turned out to be primarily pungent, soft, and two of them blue, the pairing suggestions tended to focus on fruits, nuts, and either fruity reds or semi-sweet to dry white wines. The Scamorza affumicata, on the other hand, didn’t feel like a ‘wine’ cheese; rather, it was something to be eaten on its own or being part of a dish where the food, not the wine, was the focus. The wine we purchased was a Durin Pigato DOC Riviera Ligure di Ponente Pigato 2013. It is a dry white, soft and round on the tongue, full-bodied and a distinguished as well as pleasant bitter background. Even though I tend to drink reds, I would recommend this wine to drink by itself or as an accompaniment to any dish with pesto or goat cheese.

Valle d’Aosta is known for Fontina, a cheese with PDO status. In the States, Fontina tends to be milder than what I purchased. The original stuff is quite pungent and intense, and the nectarine we paired it with seemed to lessen its bitterness. The wine paired nicely with it, rounding the sweetness of the nectarine and balancing the intensity of the cheese’s aftertaste. I wasn’t a fan of the cheese by itself, preferring to have the pungency be an accent to a dish instead of being prominent.

While Scamorza is typically known as a cheese produced in the south of Italy, Lombardia is also known for making the cheese. Like mozzarella, it is a pasta filata (or stretched curd) cheese, so it is easy to replace mozzarella with it in recipes. Scamorza affumicata is the smoked version, and one of our go-to cheeses when it’s offered. Although we typically get the pre-packaged kind, Eataly has a mozzarella station neighboring the cheese monger. They were offering fresh scamorza affumicata, so how on earth could we refuse? We tried a small slice before putting on the cheese plate, marveling in how different it tasted from what we usually ate. It had a sourer note, not as salty, but adding sea salt to it balanced the flavors quite nicely (CK also thinks it would have gone well on a bed of spicy Italian arugula, and I agree wholeheartedly).

As I said, Scamorza doesn’t seem to be the cheese plate sort of cheese, in that the cheese can be eaten on its own or as part of a dish, and the dish itself being paired with an appropriate wine. In this case, it was a “take it, or leave it” sort of deal with the white wine.

We picked Blu di Langa to represent Piemonte, and I was excited to try this cheese. Initially, I was hoping to find Castelmagno (a cheese with PDO status), but it was extremely hard to find. But when I saw the cheese through the display window, I thought it would be interesting to have two blue cheeses* to taste the differences. I was also looking for Gorgonzola specifically from that region (or Lombardy), but to no avail. But this cheese was a pleasant surprise, since I’m a bit cautious with blue cheeses in general. If you can imagine Brie that has blue veins, mostly mild and creamy with a little intensity per bite… oh yes, I was in heaven with this cheese. We paired this with golden apple slices, and it was a beautiful combination. I could imagine this cheese being used in a cheesecake, or on a bagel paired with a fig spread.

The wine went deliciously with the cheese, complementing the flavorful blue veins with something sweet and the creamy texture with a fruity sharpness that came with the combination. This was my favorite food, cheese, and wine pairing.

Finally, Eborinato di Capra to represent Liguria, and both CK’s and my favorite cheese on the board. It was milder than the Fontina, buttery and soft. And the blue veins were not bitter; rather, they were slightly sharp and gave you this pleasant surprise of flavor that was just enough without being overwhelming. We tried pairing it with the grapes (meh...), but in all honesty, this was a great “I stand alone” cheese with the possibility of some crunch with a good cracker. It was like that with the wine as well. It didn’t need to be paired with anything. It was heaven in its own right. 

This was a more challenging cheese plate to put together, since many of the cheeses (two of four) had to be picked on the fly, but like the first it was a delight to research the regions and their contributions to their country’s cuisine.


*A note on blue cheese and the gluten free diet:

From Tricia Thompson’s (MS, RD) (2011) “Blue Cheese” article: “In 2009 The Canadian Celiac Association tested 3 blue cheeses and 2 penicillium roqueforti cultures grown on a variety of gluten-containing media, including wheat-based dextrose, barley malt extract, and wheat/rye flour mixture. Results indicate that the gluten content is below the limit of quantification in these products using both the Sandwich R5 ELISA and the Competitive R5 ELISA (29).” For more information on this study, click here.

Now, while tests have been done and have shown that gluten content in blue cheese production is either low enough on both ELISA scales or quite possibly non-existent, I do urge people who are extremely sensitive to such miniscule amounts of gluten to do research and proceed with caution when eating blue cheeses in general. As far as I am aware, the Blu di Langa and the Eborinato di Capra are gluten free cheeses, and were safe for me (in that, I didn’t have a reaction, which tends to come on within a few hours of ingesting non-Morri friendly foods). But please be safe and follow your intuition with foods that are on the fence on such things.

When in Rome, make a Cheese Plate (Part I of V)

When looking at a culture, I’ve always said the best way to really immerse yourself into it is by tasting the food. I found it interesting that, with the number of times that I’ve traveled to Rome this year, I haven’t posted anything about it, especially the food. And that’s a shame, because my perspective of food changed because of living in the Mediterranean, eating homemade and wholesome foods, always fresh and usually local. I learned to savor ingredients in Rome, and so I thought to honor that by writing about cheese.

"I never had real cheese until I came to Rome." (CK)

I’ve mentioned before how CK is a cheese fiend, and it’s contagious. I have come to really enjoy cheese as a food in ways I didn’t before. I typically used cheese to top dishes, but I was never the sort of person to look at cheese as the main focus on a plate. When we arrived to Rome, I was trying to think of something fun CK and I could do together that was food related in August. I don’t know when I came up with the idea, but when we settled into his apartment, the game was on to create a cheese plate that described Italy in such a way that showed just how diverse and broad the food culture of country actually was.

Italy has more than Mozzarella, Parmesan, or Pecorino Romano to be proud of. The country makes hundreds of cheeses, and quite a few have PDO (Protected Designation of Origin) status, which promote and protect names of quality agriculture products and foodstuffs (an example of this is Champagne being found in only one part of France, and so not all bubbly white wines are called Champagne). I wanted to understand Italy through the cheeses it made, breaking it down to each cheese plate representing the larger regions (Northwest, Northeast, Central, Southern, and Insular) of the country, and each of those regions broken down into the twenty individual regions. Each cheese would have a food pairing, and each plate would have a regional wine.

To start this project, I did a bit of research. I made an excel spreadsheet of the smaller regions and came up with PDO cheeses for each one. I accepted the fact that some of these cheeses would be hard to find, and choosing one cheese over another should the neighboring regions overlap (which a few do). So to the Italians and cheese lovers alike reading this, I apologize in advance.

"To eat is an agricultural act.
 The first consumer’s agricultural gesture is to choose what to eat." (Eataly's Philosophy)

Lunch was freshly juiced "Pomodoro" and one deliciously prepared Mozzarella di Bufula salad.

CK and I spent the day running errands and found ourselves at Eataly for the afternoon. I still stand by my statement that this store is the love-child of Ikea and Whole Foods, because it leaves me in awe every time I walk through the door. There are multiple floors that break the store into categories of foodstuff: restaurants, kitchenware, coffee and desserts, pastas, meats, cheeses, fresh fruits and vegetables, alcohol (it has wine on tap and an in-house brewery), and so much more. We picked up a few non-food things, but what we were there for was a nice lunch and to make the first cheese plate of the five-part cheese project.

I decided that, since we’re in Rome, I’d begin with the central region of Italy, which is broken down into the following administrative regions: Lazio, with Mozzarella di Bufala Compana; Marche, with Casciotta d’Urbino; Umbria, with Caciotta al Tartufo; and Toscana (aka, Tuscany), with Stracchino. 

The wine we picked was an Umani Ronchi Serrano Rosso Conero DOC* 2013, from Marche. It is a fruity yet robust wine, with a medium-body but sweet finish. It is quite pleasant, and we both thought it paired wonderfully with the Mozzarella di Bufala Compana and the Caciotta al Tartufo. The Casciotta d’Urbino and the Stracchino would have paired better with a dry white or a rose.   

The Mozzarella di Bufala Compana was sliced and paired with a heirloom tomato on top of spicy arugula, and the tang finish of the cheese really brought out the brightness of its paired foods (a great recipe for such a combination can be found here). The wine was glorious to sip on in between bites, a great balance of flavor and textures. 

The Casciotta d’Urbino was paired with dried fig, and I was surprised by how buttery it was. It is a mild cheese, slightly firm and, in my opinion, a fantastic dessert cheese suitable for fruits and honey. As stated, the wine wasn’t the best pairing, as it soured the sweetness somewhat of the cheese and fig. CK is not a big fan of dried fruits, but he was a trooper in trying it out, and ended up enjoying it immensely.

CK and I bought Caciotta al Tartufo when we arrived on Tuesday and loved it. I’ve had truffles in cheese only once before and wasn’t a fan, but this one definitely changed my mind. Although I paired it with olives on the plate, the suggested pairings for this cheese were either egg or pasta dishes. I can confirm the former, as I made a zucchini, onion, mushroom, and olive frittata topped with this cheese. This also paired well with the wine, balancing the pungent earthiness of the truffles as well as the briny aftertaste of the olives.

Finally, the Stracchino was matched with a ripening pear. This cheese isn't specific to Toscana, but there are a few dishes from the area that call for the cheese, and so I chose it because of that. It reminded me of cream cheese and mascarpone combined, and it was the softest and the most mild cheese on the plate. Decadent and filling, I enjoyed its velvet richness with the vibrant fresh crunch of the fruit. It also didn’t pair very well with the wine, resulting in a bitter finish.

CK and I had a hard time choosing our “favorite” cheeses, but I have become a huge Mozzarella di Bufala fan since my first bite and he isn’t much of a fruit eater, so we leaned towards the 'savory' cheeses and their pairings. But one thing is for certain, we’ve been eating cheese all wrong up until now… and we’re changing that.

And, delightful readers, should there be a certain cheese in the remaining regions coming up that you believe we need to spotlight, let us know the name, region, and suggested food pairing, and we’ll work to make that happen!

* DOC, or Denominazione di Origine Controllata ("Controlled designation of origin") is a quality assurance label for Italian food products, particularly wines and certain cheeses (Denominazione di Origine Protetta).