Don't forget to take out the garlic E-Book

Massimiliano Serpe

• Herausgeber: Youcanprint
• Kategorie: Lebensstil
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

BACK IN THE DAYS WHERE ADVERTISING WAS SOMETHING SELDOM SEEN AND RARELY HEARD, WHEN QUALITY AND NOT QUANTITY WAS THE NAME OF THE GAME, WHAT DID OUR GRANDMOTHERS AND GRANDFATHERS COOK IN THEIR DAILY LIVES? AND WHAT COULD WE LEARN FROM THEM? WHAT'S LEFT OF THE CULINARY HERITAGE OF NAPLES, WITH ITS INVENTIVE DISHES, SO INEXTRICABLY TIED TO THE FRUITS OF OUR LANDS AND SEAS? TODAY'S HUSTLE AND BUSTLE, WITH ITS EVER-TICKING CLOCK, PREVENTS US FROM REALIZING JUST HOW EASY IT IS TO CAST ASIDE THE PRE-PACKAGED RUBBISH WE EAT ON THE REGULAR, AND MAKES US FORGET OUR TRADITIONS IN COOKING. THE INTERNET AND TELEVISION REGULARLY BLAST US WITH IMAGES OF COMPLEX, VISUALLY APPEALING DISHES, PREPARED BY ACCLAIMED CHEFS USING STATE-OF-THE-ART, CUTTING-EDGE IMPLEMENTS. THIS BOOK IS MEANT TO BE A SIMPLE TOOL, TO USE WHEN YOU WANT TO REDISCOVER THE LOST FLAVOURS OF OLD, A TIDY INDEX TO GUIDE YOU AND HELP YOU ENJOY THE HUMBLE, EXQUISITE PRODUCTS OF OUR REGION. A HUNDRED RECIPES, ACCURATELY DESCRIBED IN DIFFERENT PASSAGES, WITH EVERYDAY INGREDIENTS, A DRIZZLE OF BYGONE MEMORIES, A HANDFUL OF FOOTNOTES ON HISTORY, PLENTY OF FUN FACTS, A PINCH OF INFORMATION AND BURNING, SIZZLING PASSION.

Leseprobe

Summary

Introduction

Foreword

The Ingredients

Street Food

Introduction

Panino Napoletano (Neapolitan Rolls)

Casatiello (Neapolitan Stuffed Easter Bread)

Palle di riso al burro (Rice balls with butter)

Crocchè di Patate (Panzerotti)

Zeppole fritte (Fried Zeppole)

Pizza al Trancio (Sliced Pizza)

Pizza ripiena di scarole e salsicce (Pizza stuffed with escarole and sausage)

Panino Friarielli e Salsicce (Friarielli and Sausage Panini)

Panino Wurstel e Patatine (Bockwurstel and chips panini)

Calzone Fritto (Fried Calzone)

Pizza Fritta – Montanare (Fried Pizza Dough with Tomato Sauce)

Frittata di Pasta (Pasta Omelette)

Mozzarella in Carrozza (Fried, breaded Mozzarella)

Starters

Introduction

Zucchine alla Scapece / Escabeche (Fried Zucchini in Vinegar)

Alici marinate (Marinated Anchovies)

Verdure Arrostite (Grilled Veggies)

Fellata (Meat and Cheese Plate)

Insalata Caprese (Caprese Salad, with fresh tomatoes and mozzarella)

Insalata di Pomodori (Tomato Salad)

Fior di Zucca in Pastella (Fried Pumpkin Flowers)

Bruschette (Garlic Bread with Tomatoes)

Insalata di Polpo e Patate (Octopus Salad with Potatoes)

Insalata di Mare (Seafood Salad)

Pasta Dishes

Introduction

Pasta e Fagioli (Pasta and Beans)

Pasta e Ceci (Pasta and Chickpeas)

Pasta e Lenticchie (Pasta and Lentils)

Pasta patate e Provole (Pasta with Potatoes and Provola)

Lasagna

Cannelloni (Pasta filled with Ragù)

Sartù di Riso (Rice Timbale)

Gnocchi alla Sorrentina (Sorrento-Style Gnocchi, with tomato sauce and mozzarella)

Spaghetti a Vongole (Clam Spaghetti)

Spaghetti alla Puttanesca “Aulive e Chiappiariell” (Spaghetti Puttanesca, with Tomato Sauce, Olives and Capers)

Spaghetti Aglio e Oglio (Spaghetti with Oil and Garlic)

Rigatoni al Ragù (Rigatoni with Ragù)

Risotto alla Pescatora (Seafood Risotto)

Pasta e Cucozza (Pumpkin Pasta)

Pasta e Cavolo (Cauliflower Pasta)

Paccheri ai Frutti di Mare (Seafood Paccheri)

Spaghetti del Poverello (Spaghetti with Egg, Cheese and Pepper)

Spaghetti ai Polpi (Octopus Spaghetti)

Spaghetti alla Pizzaiola (Spaghetti with Tomato Sauce and Oregano)

Rigatoni alla Genovese (Rigatoni Genovese, with Onions and Ground Meat)

Pasta Fagioli e Cozze (Pasta with Beans and Mussels)

Minestra and Soups

Introduction

Minestra di Verdure / “Maritata” (Veggie Minestra)

Lenticchie e Scarole (Lentils and Escaroles)

Fagioli e Scarole (Beans and Escaroles Minestra)

Minestra di verza (Savoy Minestra)

Zuppa di Pesce (Seafood Stew)

Zuppa di Cozze (Mussel Stew)

Main Course

Introduction

Salsicce e Friarielli (Friarielli and Sausages)

Carne al Ragù (Meat with Ragù Sauce)

Baccalà Fritto (Fried Salt Cod)

Fegato con le Cipolle (Liver with Onions)

Polpi alla Luciana (Octopus with Tomato Sauce)

Pesce all’Acqua Pazza (Boiled Fish with Tomatoes and Parsley)

Calamari Ripieni (Stuffed Calamari)

Cozze Gratinate (Mussels au Gratin)

Triglie al Cartoccio (Red Mullet Baked in Foil)

Frittata di Patate (Potato Omelette)

Polpette di Carne (Meatballs)

Polpettone (Meatloaf )

Frittura di Pesce (Fish Fry)

Alici in Tortiera (Baked Anchovies and Bread Bowl)

Parmigiana di Melanzane (Eggplant Parmesan)

Gateau di Patate (Neapolitan-style Baked Potato Pie)

Pizzaiola di Carne (Meat with Tomatoes and Oregano)

Seppie e Patate (Cuttlefish with Potatoes)

Pollo alla Cacciatora (Chicken Drumsticks with Vegetables and White Wine)

Zuppa di Soffritto (Pork giblets with tomato sauce)

Desserts

Introduction

Pasta Graffe (Fried Krapfen Dough)

Pastiera di Grano (Cooked Wheat Easter Cake)

Babbà (Yeasted Rhum Cake)

Torta Caprese (Almond and Chocolate Flourless Cake)

Chiacchiere (Carnival Fritters)

Zeppole di San Giuseppe (Fried Dough Balls with Powdered Sugar)

Migliaccio (Lemon Ricotta Cake)

Zeppole di Assunta con le Patate (Fried Dough with added Potatoes)

Pastiera di Pasta (Pasta Cake)

Delizia al Limone (Lemon Delight)

Sfogliatelle Frolle (Pastry filled with Choux)

Sfogliatelle Ricce (Clam-shaped Puff Pastry)

Sfogliatelle Ricce (Clam-shaped Puff Pastry)

Struffoli (Honey Balls)

Crostata di Frutta Fresca (Fresh Fruit Tart)

Torta Ricotta e Pera (Pear Ricotta Cake)

Fiocchi di Neve (Snowflakes) (Cream-filled Fluffy Pastries)

Panettone Prestofatto (Readymade Panettone)

Sweets, Pastries, Salty and Sweet Cookies

Introduction

Biscotti Quaresimali (Lenten Cookies with Almonds)

Paste di Mandorla (Almond Dough Cookies)

Roccocò (Donut-shaped Almond Cookies)

Susamielli (S-Shaped Almond Cookies)

Biscotti all’Amarena (Sour Cherry Cookies)

Taralli Sugna e Pepe (Taralli with Lard and Ground Pepper)

Liquors

Introduction

Limoncello

Nocillo

Conserves

Introduction

Melanzane Sott’olio (Eggplants in Oil)

Peperoni Sott’olio (Bell Peppers in Oil)

Carciofini sott’olio (Artichokes in Oil)

Giardiniera in Agrodolce (Sweet and Sour Pickled Vegetables)

Marmellata di Ciliegie (Cherry Jam)

Afterword

Titolo | Don’t forget to take out the garlic

Autore | Massimiliano Serpe

ISBN | 978-88-31699-65-5

© 2020. Tutti i diritti riservati all'Autore

Questa opera è pubblicata direttamente dall'Autore tramite la piattaforma di selfpublishing Youcanprint e l'Autore detiene ogni diritto della stessa in

maniera esclusiva. Nessuna parte di questo libro può essere pertanto riprodotta senza il preventivo assenso dell'Autore.

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To my mother, for teaching me the joy of living. To my wife, Lucia, for holding me tight even when I wasn’t there.

Written by

Massimiliano Serpe

With the Support of

Lucia Loffredo, Giuseppe and Davide Serpe

Photography

Massimiliano Serpe

Artwork

Laura Bonito

Graphic Design

Massimiliano Serpe

Typesetting

Alberto Laterza

The Italian version of this book, released in November 2019, was titled “A Napoli anche l’Aglio è nato con la Camicia”: that is, unfortunately, scarcely translatable wordplay describing someone’s privileged social status, in this case applied to garlic as an essential and irreplaceable ingredient in Neapolitan cuisine.

As you will find out in the following introduction, the idea of writing a book sprung into my mind after spending some time abroad, where, working in the restaurant business, I had the chance to meet a lot of people, among them many fellow Italians who always loved to stay and chew the fat… along with some fine traditional food, too. The world is rife with Italian restaurants full to bursting with clients that want to get to know and taste our food. Tourists come in droves to our peninsula all year long, not only to see the sights, but for some good eating, too. Our compatriots living abroad have long since changed their culinary habits, but I found out that virtually all of them wish to return to the traditions of their homeland, even if it’s simply by reading a book.

And I, too, had my wish granted: my book will reach an even wider, international audience, thanks to the work of my nephew, Fabio, who dedicated himself to translating it and making it an even more pleasant, useful and interesting experience.

Introduction

I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t read as much as I should, aside from cookbooks and the occasional work-related document, but I consider it a rare gift to be properly book-smart and learn quickly from what you read.

The first thing I thought about, when I had the idea of writing a cookbook, is that millions suffer the pangs of hunger each day, while in the western world food is more than plenty. For every child that would treat a bowl of fried rice as manna from heaven, there’s another that throws away his snack because he doesn’t quite like the dark chocolate glaze. Being self-aware of our own consumerism becomes, then, a necessity. In the following pages I offer you my reflections, born within and without the Self, on an issue that we should take more seriously both individually and as a community.

Since I was only a little boy, I was fascinated by everything going on in the kitchen, from the necessary shopping for ingredients to the table’s setup. I spent many mornings in the market, mesmerized by the swirling colors and lights, the fragrant smells and the figures always coming and going, so busy living in those narrow alleyways where the practice of the merchant craft paved the way for genuine human bonds.

I’d never have guessed that this passion of mine would allow me, one day, to work in this field. Granted, I am a stranger in a strange land, but without those wonderful experiences, this book wouldn’t even exist.

I wrote it together with my wife Lucia, also a cooking aficionado, and with more than a little help from my sons Davide and Giuseppe, who are all too ready to judge my cooking, challenge me in my tastes, and more.

Food, like almost everything that’s even remotely linked to an economic interest, has gone global; as a result, many dishes lost their characteristic, old-time taste, and it’s hard to find something truly “authentic”. Those who belong to our generation are already used from a young age to eating low-quality, mass-produced canned food that tastes like salted concrete. Nobody really knows the genuine taste and textures of old, and how could they? Everything that’s made that is good enough to set a trend is instantly mass-produced to oblivion, saturating the market and inevitably watering down its taste.

My job as an entrepreneur and then as an aspiring chef allowed me to travel all around Europe and savor all kinds of different foods. I had the distinct impression that we’re all being manipulated into consuming what is labeled as “genuine”, but is really of questionable quality and even more questionable origin.

In Italy, we take cooking seriously and we’re rightly recognized for it on the global market, but the same process of manipulation and mass production in our country has reached heights that border on outrage.

The aftertaste of certain dishes lingers in our mind, inexorably linked to a particular experience, or even to someone we once loved, or still love. When I was only a boy, people felt strongly about our tradition of home-cooking, more than today. Simple, everyday ingredients were the foundation of every good meal; on Sundays or during the holidays, with the whole family gathered around the kitchen table, dishes became a little more complex, with varied ingredients and different processes. Many recipes are directly derived from those very same Sunday gatherings, maybe only slightly more… generous than they were back then.

I still have a vivid memory of all the different aromas swirling in the central alleyways on a Sunday morning, a colour that changed according to the time of day: from the sweet-sour smell of salsa al ragù for the soffritto, to the fried vegetables that intoned the prelude to a parmigiana, and all the way to a traditional fried-fish paranza or the smoky aftertaste of grilled meat.

Back in the day, when you could, lunch or dinner were spent together with someone familiar, and chances were high they’d prepare that pasta dish, or that sweet dessert, that you liked so much; back then, you could ask your grandma to cook you that one “thing” that your mother just had no time to prepare anymore. But time you had, and you could spend all day at your nana’s home watching in awe as she lovingly prepared everything that was needed, all the ingredients, pots and pans, to make a wonderful treat taste truly “authentic”.

And what about the tradition of preserves, often prepared during specific times of the year, because only in those small frames the fruits of the earth were ripe enough to be worked on: tomatoes, eggplant, artichokes, peppers were a mainstay in a housewife’s kitchen, and each had a different way of keeping them from spoiling; you could store them doused in oil or vinegar, or with a sweet-sour mix, according to the needs of each type of vegetable. Tomato preserves were especially favoured, and each family actually had its own particular way of preparing them, its own little tips and tricks to make them taste better.

Another common sight in those times was homemade liquor: in nearly every house in Torre del Greco you could have a glass of Limoncello or Nocillo in good company, its recipe usually passed down through the generations and prepared rigorously “by heart” or with tools that were far removed from our modern scales. Often these adventures in distillation were a good reason to let the neighbors gather round, share their ingredients and eventually partake of the distilled liquor.

These are only a few of the stories that have by now faded from this world, and that let us grow into healthy adults.

Massimiliano Serpe

Foreword

If we were to take Feuerbach at his word, then we could freely state that “you are what you eat”. I beg the German master forgiveness then, and humbly loan his aphorism (that he certainly didn’t mean to use in the foreword of a cookbook) for my analysis on the reason why the culinary habits of a man shape his sensibilities.

Before we start, we have to admit that the sensibilities of someone born in the south of Italy, especially for us “country folk”, are as unknowable as the wind, obscure but brilliant at the same time, nostalgic yet prescient, solitary yet welcoming. He who cooks stumbles in the dark, dazed and confused, devoid of clear ideas, until the advice of a loved one lights the path to resolution. Even the rejection of such advice or observation can open a doorway to clarity, morph doubt into certainty, hesitation in decisive action. He who cooks, does so for his children, to whom he shows the value of history.

He does so for his mother and father, to whom he reminds of the primal and bittersweet feeling of nostalgia, working together with memory, like Proust himself remembered and wrote about la Petite Madeleine: that small, delicious treat whose taste brought him back to his childhood home, to his mother’s routine, to the smells that lingered in the kitchen, the voices that sifted through the air, the cold cutting through his windows in the morning causing the author to curl up shivering.

Sons and daughters discover, parents mull over, meditate.

He who cooks, does so after work (for if you cook, time has to be on your side, as it triggers the red flame of emotion, and having little or none of it means neither inspiration nor rapture will overtake you), when he’s alone: the perfect time to be in touch with one’s inner taste, but at the same time being aware that each person and occasion is a world unto itself, and when cooking, he should not follow his selfish desire to offer the same trite dishes he likes making. “Do you like chives?”, “Do you mind if I add just a little bit of pepper?”.

Communication: the starting point to learn about the Other, to socialize, to accept, especially when the Other is ready to die on the hill of his convictions, maybe with candor and even rudeness; as when the Other opposes resistance, the Self hardens, impregnable (and homes are always heavy with old wounds, unspoken arguments and all-too-spoken little zings that come expectedly or not).

There are but some of the emotional dynamics that occur when someone cooks or eats well, in the south and beyond. This is valid (of course) for those who have a keen sense of taste that is not only biological, but full of awareness.

And are you, dear Reader, merely biological or fully aware?

The discourse about cuisine was certainly spearheaded by the authors of the past. Writers, philosophers, playwrights, men of learning who, tackling a plethora different topics in their works, all too often skirted in the realm of cooking. Some of them employ the culinary arts as a background or as a literary device to engineer plot twists or introduce new developments in their stories, like the aforementioned Marcel Proust. Another artist I would like to (rightfully) mention, in this regard, is our very own actor and playwright Eduardo de Filippo. In addition to the numerous culinary references in his body of work (above all, in his plays), Eduardo began writing about cooking in the 60s.

It’s a little known fact, and even less known, I understand, for a foreign audience. De Filippo, for us, represents the reality of what it means to be Neapolitan. His wife, Isabella Quarantotti, decided in 2001 to publish a small booklet, “Si cucine commevogl’i” (“If I cook the way I like it”), in which we can find numerous recipes which were quite dear to Eduardo, and ones which he wanted to honor. The ones that were the most delicious, the ones that sparked memories of the past, were they pleasant or unpleasant, the ones who mattered the most.

It’s to be understood that cooking, an activity which most would find trivial, is truly anything but. “A simple, ordinary occurrence in our lives”, or so they say. Yet, this ordinary occurrence becomes extraordinary in the imagination of the attuned, becoming a story of romance, and therefore a fantastic creation.

A lesser known author in this field is Manuel Vàzquez Montalbàn, Spanish essayist and journalist, who wrote a satirical cookbook in 1992 called “The Immoral Recipes”. The work had the same premises as my father’s own cookbook, more or less: no great ambitions, with a kindred spirit of sharing and the necessary wit to lighten the mood.

Moving forward, we can find the book “L’Assaggiatrice” by Giuseppina Torregrossa, a story about taste and sexuality, and stumble upon the “magical chef ” archetype in Joanne Harris’ “Chocolat”, in which the patissier is able to cure her clients of any illnesses with a simple application of ad-hoc pastries. As we can see, when we write or inquire about cooking, we have to consider that it is a common experience in everyone’s life, from the writer to the musician, from the electrician to the valet, from the chef to the policeman; and thus, if we want to truly talk about cooking, we must be aware of what truly sets it apart from everything else: universality.

Davide Serpe

The Ingredients

The peculiar location of Campania, surrounded by both fertile soil and seawater, allowed for a plethora of prime raw material to be derived both from agriculture and fishing, giving our cooking a selection of dishes that is centuries old.

In those times, the modern, transformative techniques that allowed food to be preserved for ages simply didn’t exist: people had to grow accustomed to what the earth had to offer season by season.

Each one of us should strive to apply one simple idea, even though it may not be easy due to time constraints or some confusion derived from media overload: we have to cook with humble ingredients, local ingredients, paying respect to seasonality; that will allow us to make healthy, tasty food in a time and money-efficient way.

It’s quite easy to weigh the price of an out-of-season (around march), mostly tasteless bell pepper against our actual need for one, and just avoid buying altogether.

Before delving into the many delicacies that made our region’s cooking world-renowned, I would like to introduce (if nothing else, to honor the title of this book) the one ingredient that truly made each of our recipes special, to the point of being essential to the taste of many of our foods: garlic, or in our tongue, aglio.

Peeled or unpeeled, raw or cooked, every which way it’s used, garlic holds a special spot in our hearts. It is found and cultivated in Campania near the town of Ufita, near Avellino, and it is considered of excellent quality: its cloves are medium-sized and usually of a white-pinkish color, and it takes its name from the town it comes from (aglio d’Ufita). Excellence also comes in the form of its “big sister”, the onion, which is found in the towns of Montoro and Alife, both variants known and appreciated in Campania and beyond.

In the following paragraphs, I will continue to explore and describe these outstanding goods that made, and still make, our cuisine unique.

Il paneBread

The region of Campania is rife with different customary bread-making techniques and little rituals, most of them belonging to different areas within the pane Cafone, sold in large round chunks the color of hay, thick and region itself: the crusty, typically found in the Camaldoli near Naples, but prevalent in many areas of the northern hinterland; the town of Villaricca boasts an impressive bread-making tradition that dates back centuries, to the point that its name used to be Panicocoli (a term, Panicuocole, that came from our dialect and whose roots can be found in the Latin language, roughly meaning “to cook bread”). Its products are sought after in the whole country, and usually sold in round panielli or slender panelle.

The bakers of San Sebastiano al Vesuvio are equally as famous. They are masters of the acclaimed Palatone, a long loaf of delicious white bread with a thin crust that stays fresh for days.

The bread from Montecalvo, tall with a thick crust and a little cavity on the inside to signify its quality, is instead quite known and appreciated near Avellino. In the same area, which is called Alta Irpinia, another kind of special, very ancient bread is produced, the Calitri. It is typically round in shape and vertically cut, but its uniqueness comes mainly from its weight: the round shapes, called “ruote e’ carrett” (lit. wheelbarrow wheels), can reach a whopping 6 kilos.

The plateaus of Irpinia also offer its farmers a particular kind of Rye, which is called grano di Iermano or Ciurmano in local dialect. It is usually mixed with durum wheat to make up the essential ingredient of a very old bread recipe, the pane di Iurmano, dark in color and of long-lasting freshness.

Moving to the Sannio area around Benevento, we can instead find a special kind of Rye bread made from an old breed of durum wheat, called saragolla, which also gives the bread its name; its taste is robust, its crust thick and its colour is a faded yellow.

In Padula, near Salerno, one can instead find a delightful, homemade loaf called pane di Padula, which comes in round shapes of about two kilos each, squared on the top like the panis quadratus depicted in the roman murals in Pompeii. Its taste and freshness can be preserved for up to 15 days.

The so-called pan biscotto (biscuit bread) comes instead from Agerola, and presents a pleasurable rustic taste that meshes wonderfully with the local dishes and goods. The singular virtue of this type of bread, resulting from both its ingredients and its handicraft, is that it is possible to dip it in water before consuming it, giving it the fresh, spongy taste it’s known for.

I latticini Dairy

What we call today mozzarella di bufala (buffalo mozzarella) appeared as a term for the first time in a 1570 manuscript by Italian chef and author Bartomozza (which means cut or chopped) seemed lomeo Scappi, even though the term to be already in use before that. The origin of this Mediterranean delicacy seems to predate even the first millennium, though, since the buffalo was imported in Italy by the Lombards in the 6th Century. The manufacture of dairy products in Campania goes way beyond mozzarella, even though it remains its most appreciated and known product worldwide. There are many other local treats that make us proud in the food market, like the ricotta di fuscella, special light ricotta that’s sold in little baskets, usually eaten fresh as a single dish and rarely used in the kitchen, its light and delicate taste making it an excellent choice of appetizer. In the city markets of my youth, it came wrapped inside a vine leaf.

The bocconcini del Cardinale are equally as delicious, consisting of little bites of mozzarella that aren’t brined, instead being dipped directly in cream or milk. They’re usually sold in langelle, which are simple terracotta vases.

Often used in cooking, provola affumicata (smoked provola) is a kind of mozzarella exposed to woodsmoke after packaging; as a result, it turns dark brown on the outside, while the inside keeps the usual white-ivory colour, gaining a very distinctive taste. The fior di latte goes through a similar process, but the final outcome is different in both colour and texture. Scamorza is also made in quite the same way, save for a little adjustment that makes it develop a thick outer shell. It is often smoked, and it comes in round or caciocavallo shapes.

The provolone family, rich in taste and variations, goes from its “youngest” member, the tiny and sugary-sweet provoloncino bebé, to the medium sized sweet or spicy provolone. A well-known variant is the provolone del monaco, produced on the Lattari Mountains. Another great-quality product is the caciocavallo, an offshoot of provolone that mainly differs in its texture and the classic “flagon” shape with the equally customary choke on top that ends in the capa, or head, of the caciocavallo. Finely-aged caciocavallo is usually grated.

The areas of production are usually the ones traditionally used for pasture, like the Cilento, Aversa or Agerola, whose plains are most suited to this kind of activity.

Pasta

The tradition of handmade pasta runs even stronger in the small municipalities of the hinterland. In the province of Avellino and Benevento, fusilli, cavatelli and maccheroni are still made with rudimentary tools, while strictly “Neapolitan” cuisine prefers the industrially-produced durum wheat flour pasta.

Large scale pasta production in the area dates back at the very least to the XVI century, when the ideal conditions to dry and preserve pasta were discovered in the city of Gragnano. Local variations on the classic shapes live alongside their more famous ancestors, like for examples paccheri and ziti, which are snapped in twain by hand before cooking and seasoning. Pasta ammescata (mixed pasta) is usually made out of the broken leftovers of this process, and used to be sold at a smaller price because of it. It pairs exceptionally well with legumes of all kinds, from lentils to beans.

Two other great contenders are gnocchi (which, I found out, are especially hard to pronounce right for a foreign crowd who has no concept of a soft gn sound), made of a mixture of flour and mashed potatoes, and scialatielli, currently trending with all kinds of seafood recipes.

Verdure e OrtaggiVegetables

The quintessential Neapolitan veggie is undoubtedly the friariello, a kind of bitter-ish escarole, along with many varieties of broccoli, savoy, minestra mixes puntarelle and (a type of asparagus). Zucchini are widely used, too, and the biggest ones are cooked alla scapece, basically bathed (scapece is derived from Spanish escabeche, which means “to dip”), while still hot, in a mixture of oil, vinegar, parsley and garlic. Smaller ones are usually fried and seasoned with salt, vinegar and fresh mint. Additionally, the zucchini flowers can be caked in batter and deep-fried.

The zucchetta di pergola or zucchetta del prete is a small pumpkin with a delicate, sweet aftertaste, often paired with pasta or a tomato soup.

Peppers come in all shapes and sizes, from the medium-sized ones (either red or yellow) to the less imposing, sweet green peppers, which are often fried.

The name mammarella denotes a particularly valued type of artichoke, relatively massive in size, round-shaped with purple-hued leaves.

Salads are the side dish of choice for many meals, especially those revolving around seafood. Many choose the crispier incappucciata over the common lettuce, and regularly mix it with fennel, rocket (that used to be sold by street vendors along with the less refined pucchiacchella) and radish (if you want to stick to tradition, then get the longer, spicier ones instead of the round, sweet ones; they’ve become really hard to find lately, though).