Real Italian
January 1, 2000
January 2000 Real Italian By: Kimberly J. DeckerContributing Editor Time was, Americans dined at "Italian" restaurants. They ate spaghetti and meatballs, pepperoni pizza, and maybe veal parmigiana if they felt adventuresome. Then during the big-spending '80s, in a culinary twist on trickle-down economics, imported four-star Italian chefs opened America's eyes to the distinction between northern and southern Italian food. It became something of a mantra that butter and rice are found in the north, olive oil and pasta in the south. Now when we speak of Italian cuisine, "northern" or "southern" are used almost instinctively as qualifiers. With a little homework, product designers can cash in on Italian cuisine diversity. And although even the best kitchen wizards might not be able to preserve some of the genuine regional flavors and techniques in a bottle or box, clever professionals can find most of what they need quite handily here in the United States. That's Italian Many Italian cooks would complain that Americans have gotten a mite cavalier with what they call "Italian." Spaghetti swimming in a rich red sauce with two hearty meatballs as its crowning glory? For that classic American dish, we can thank the Italian-American community of New York and its ingenious adaptation to local ingredients and tastes. And unfortunately for many processed foods, authentic regional Italian food celebrates fresh, high-quality, local and seasonal ingredients that rarely emerge from retorts, freeze-dryers, and HTST operations in the same state as when they entered. On a brighter note, true Italian cooking obliges cooks to keep things simple; thus even a few key, high-quality ingredients can make a product smack of Tuscany or Venice. A good place to start is the "holy trinity" of Italian cooking - garlic and onions, olive oil and bread. Judicious use of these fundamentals creates a basic yet unmistakable Italian flavor profile. Garlic and onions, both members of the genus Allium, provide the foundation for almost all Italian sauces and dishes. When sautéed or roasted, they lend a mellow, caramelized sweetness. Careful Italian cooks treat garlic and onions with a light touch. For one thing, cooking them over too high a heat yields a brown, acrid mess that begs "throw me out and start over." And unless you're fighting vampires, there is such a thing as too much garlic. All that's needed is a distinct, but not overwhelming, garlic or onion note. Raw garlic never appears in Italian food, and raw onions only in the case of young, mild ones in a salad or antipasto. Even in northern Italy where butter remains the king of cooking fats, olive oil has become indispensable. Italians hold it in as high esteem as their national wines and cheeses, knowing almost instinctively what distinguishes an unfiltered, low-acid, cold-pressed extra-virgin oil (a pretty high-quality oil, by the way) from a filtered, solvent-extracted pure olive oil. Most Italian cooks swear by the pronounced aromatic flavors of the extra-virgin stuff for raw applications, but more processed oils - extracted from olives via heat and solvents, as opposed to simple pressing - are fine for sautéing and deep-frying. The range of Italian breads runs the gamut from crusty little panini to calzones, big, flat focaccias and even flatter pizza crusts. Pizza in Italy doesn't bear too strong a resemblance to those made in this country. They are much smaller, have a thinner, often cracker-like crust, contain less cheese and rarely the same type or quantity of red sauce. Instead, they are topped with fresh or roasted vegetables, herbs and spices, a variety of oils, and only a sparing use of local cheeses. A calzone is essentially a round of pizza dough, spread on one side with various toppings, that is folded over, pinched shut, and baked until brown and bubbly. Focaccias, pizza crust's puffier, spongier and dimpled cousins, use a shorter, more oily dough and are generally served as snacks or meal accompaniments. Depending on the region, the season, or the general mood in the kitchen, chefs will top them with all manner of ingredients, with coarse sea salt, fresh rosemary, and the ubiquitous olive oil placing in the top three every time. Essential herbs and spices Few ingredients pack as much Italian punch as a combination of carefully chosen, pungent fresh herbs - think of the aroma of roast pork loin with rubbed sage, or freshly made pesto redolent with basil. And Italian cooks swear by their batutto - a pulverized mixture of fresh parsley and herbs blended with aromatic vegetables and sautéed in olive oil that forms the base for many dishes. For true Italian flavor, herbs must be fresh. Italian chefs make exceptions to this rule very rarely, and almost exclusively in the cases of bay leaf and oregano, both of which hold up to drying fairly admirably. Delicate leaves such as sage (excellent in sausage and pork dishes) and basil (virtually made to go with tomatoes) are used frequently, as are heartier, woodier herbs such as rosemary and thyme, both of which complement game. While Italian cooking doesn't use spices extensively, black pepper, dried hot peppers, fennel seed, anise seed, cinnamon and nutmeg add distinctive notes to sauces, stews, sausages, stuffed pastas and other dishes characteristic to regional microcuisines. The big cheese Dairy's richness rounds out the flavor of many Italian meals. Italians practically invented the "Mediterranean diet," but by keeping an eye on moderation rather than gluttony, they balance their generally lower-fat diets with a passion for dairy in measured doses. Italians consider their cheeses national treasures, and shop for them just as their ancestors did, buying domestically produced varieties straight from the wheel, always tasting beforehand. The government directs cheese production, aging, naming and distribution, and the strict guidelines yield some of the finest cheeses available. Many Americans grow up believing that those shiny green canisters on grocery shelves contain Parmesan cheese, but the real McCoy, Parmigiano-Reggiano, is a very specific variety made under exacting guidelines in Parma, in northern Italy. Its sweet, buttery, nutty flavor makes it both an excellent grating cheese - nary a dish of pasta reaches the table without it - and eating cheese. Similarly suited to both eating (when fresh) and grating (when aged), pecorino Romano enjoys a similar esteem among Italy's cheeseophiles. It's traditionally a ewe's-milk cheese, although added cow's milk often moderates the flavor and keeps costs down. Its sharp pepperiness makes it an excellent companion to robust southern Italian dishes with peppers, anchovies, olives and other assertive flavors. Mozzarella, a cheese most Americans consider the classic pizza cheese, was originally made from water-buffalo milk. It has a slightly elastic, stringy texture that makes it a delectable topping for pizza or filling for calzone. (But mozzarella's real glory emerges when you slice a sweet, fresh, water-packed ball.) Beyond these standards lie a number of less-famous cheese varieties. Take fontina, from Italy's northwestern Valle d'Aosta region, for example. Authentic Italian fontina has a creamy-smooth texture and nutty flavor that make it an excellent melting and eating cheese. It makes a particularly rich grilled panino, or Italian grilled cheese sandwich. Italy also has its national blue cheese, Gorgonzola. Aged and laced with blue mold, it comes in either a crumbly, strongly flavored variety that aficionados prefer for eating, or a smoother, sweeter style called dolce latte ("sweet milk") that is better for cooking. In addition to aged eating cheeses, Italy turns out fresh, moist cheeses, such as ricotta and mascarpone. The former is famous as a filling for ravioli, tortellini and lasagne. Fresh Italian ricotta - which lasts less than a few days even under refrigeration - has an appealing creaminess and a sweet, diacetyl flavor. Also very perishable, mascarpone appears often in desserts such as tiramisù. Pasta, rice and polenta Pasta, to most people, defines Italian food. Pastificio shops make fresh stuffed tortellini and ravioli, agnolotti, lasagna sheets, inches-wide papardelle ribbons or fresh versions of fettuccine. But Italians also often use inexpensive, readily available and high-quality dried pasta. Its firmer, elastic texture complements more toppings than does the delicacy of fresh. Either way, respectable pasta-makers use hard, durum semolina wheat, water and occasionally eggs or herb and vegetable purees. A pasta's shape influences how it will "go" with a particular sauce. While no firm rules exist for pairing, Italian cooks have learned that some types work better with certain toppings than others. For example, long, thin ribbons such as spaghetti and capellini work best with smooth, light sauces. Even sturdier ribbons such as tagliatelle and papardelle work best with smooth cream sauces of intermediate weight. A heavy sauce full of vegetable bits and meats is best paired with a pasta that can actually hold it, such as conchiglie, farfalle, orecchiette, and rigatoni, all of which have pockets, tubes and crevices. While the popularity of pasta varieties differs from region to region, all Italians agree that it must be al dente, or "to the tooth." This means that the pasta retains a slight bite. Risotto is an increasingly popular dish that hails from Italy's rice-growing north. Actually, risotto is less a dish than a method. Chefs first sauté garlic or onion in a bit of olive oil, then add rice; only the plump, high-amylopectin, medium-grained arborio variety will do. Its central kernel of hydration-resistant starch remains slightly al dente while its outside moistens to a creamy, porridge-like consistency. Chefs sauté the rice with the onion until toasted and coated with oil, then add a glass of wine for flavoring. Next, boiling stock is added one ladle at a time while stirring constantly (a crucial step) to aid absorption and keep the rice from sticking. In addition to harnessing durum wheat and arborio rice, Italians have taken coarse yellow cornmeal from the New World and turned it into polenta, a smooth, creamy northern-Italian mush. Like risotto, traditional polenta requires significant hands-on work: start with cold water, cornmeal and salt; bring the water to a boil; reduce the heat; and stir constantly to prevent the polenta from sticking or forming lumps. Cooks can avoid lumps by choosing stone-ground, whole-grain cornmeal with particles the size of table sugar. Finer grinds yield a gummy, sticky texture. Italians enjoy polenta as a creamy porridge immediately after it's done, or they cool and harden it to a semi-solid mass that they cut into wedges to pan fry or substitute for bread in sandwiches. Either way, its flavor and texture complement hearty tomato ragus with big chunks of meat and vegetables. It also gets a flavor boost from a pat of butter, some melted cheese or a drizzle of fine olive oil. One more starchy dish that merits attention is gnocchi - little dumplings made with boiled potatoes and flour, ricotta cheese or even durum semolina. Like pasta, gnocchi are boiled in salted water. Potato gnocchi, the most popular variety, are the perfect foil for almost any sauce since they have a neutral flavor and a shape that captures and holds sauce. Ricotta gnocchi rank second to potato, and have a richer, softer texture characteristic of the ricotta and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheeses they contain. To avoid an overdose of richness, most chefs pair these decadent dumplings with a simpler, lighter sauce that also lets the gnocchi's flavor come through. Finally, semolina gnocchi, a Roman creation, have received little publicity outside Italy - quite a shame, given their distinctive, nutty-buttery appeal. Prepared much the same as polenta, they are made from a semolina porridge that is cooled, hardened, and cut into thin disks, which are layered in a casserole dish, then topped with plenty of butter and cheese and baked. Vegetable garden Italian chefs have developed some of the tastiest and most creative vegetable dishes in the world. The country's strong agricultural industry keeps its markets bursting with produce all year long, and it also relies to some extent on local farming to supply its kitchens with really fresh goods. Summer gardens, with their tomatoes, eggplant, sweet bell peppers and zucchini (many of which didn't actually enter Italy's culinary repertoire until the Colombian period), soon give way to an autumnal harvest of sturdier cabbages, squashes, cauliflower, mushrooms, potatoes and onions. Finally, the cycle completes itself in springtime, as chefs delight in the fresh peas, asparagus and tender artichokes that signal winter's end. Italian vegetable cooking relies on ingredient quality because it employs very simple flavorings and preparations. Rather than mask fresh vegetables' flavor with heavy cream or butter sauces, Italians prefer a lighter adornment - fresh garlic, a touch of olive oil or butter, for example, or lemon juice and salt. Italian cooks lightly boil or steam broccoli, potatoes, winter squash and other hardier varieties, seasoning them with a quick post-steaming sauté in a little oil or butter. Moister vegetables such as zucchini, peppers, mushrooms and onions are sautéed, grilled or roasted. This promotes sugar caramelization, allows moisture to evaporate, and makes a more concentrated, flavorful dish. Just imagine a platter of bright, grilled summer squashes - either served hot off the grill or at room temperature - with aromatic, browned surfaces and robust flavor. In this case, a little olive oil and balsamic vinegar are all that's needed to enhance the vegetable's natural savoriness. Meat market Even though animal proteins comprise a small portion of the Mediterranean diet, what that diet lacks in quantity, it more than compensates for in variety and quality. The beef and pork raised in Italy's agricultural areas, the wild game that stems from its hunting tradition, and innumerable varieties of seafood that fisherman catch provide Italian cooks with a rich palette. Italians have done wonderful things with pork, particularly with preservation and curing. While no one would make a main dish out of a big hunk of prosciutto ham from Parma or San Daniele or a large piece of pancetta (unsmoked Italian bacon), these two culinary triumphs represent Italian pork-curing ingenuity. And what about a delicious Italian sausage, robust with garlic and fennel seed? We can also thank Italy's sausage makers for spicy pepperoni, beef-and-pork salami, and Mortadella from Bologna that eventually morphed into America's favorite lunchmeat, baloney. Many sausages make ingenious use of "variety" meats - cheeks, head meat, tongue, liver and heart. Some even play starring roles themselves, as anyone who has enjoyed an expertly prepared Italian tongue stew will attest. Also a bit exotic to American tastes, game meats hold a hallowed position in Italian dining rooms. A stew prepared alla cacciatore means a "hunter's-style" stew. Wild boar, rabbit, hare and wild fowl such as pheasant, pigeon and chucker all wind up on Italian tables. Hearty vegetables, herbs such as sage and rosemary, robust wines, juniper berries, and even bitter chocolate help create sauces that team with game. Beef also appears in a number of guises, from a simply seasoned and grilled bistecca to countless veal dishes. Chefs stuff veal breasts with cheese, herbs and breadcrumbs, then roast them and slice into colorful pinwheels. Osso buco, or "bone with a hole," consists of veal shanks stewed with tomatoes and aromatic vegetables until the moist and collagenous meat falls off the bone. Many other veal dishes use long, slow cooking techniques to render cubes of shoulder, leg or other parts tender and flavored with an accompanying sauce. And of course, veal commonly gets the scaloppini treatment, where chefs bread and pan fry paper-thin slices, serve them with a squeeze of lemon as in cotoletta alla Milanese (aka Wienerschnitzel), or with a more fully flavored sauce as in veal parmigiana. As for seafood, Italy is almost completely surrounded by water, and its long Catholic tradition has made "fish on Friday" a regular refrain. So rather than flounder in boredom with the same old dishes, Italian cooks have turned almost any sea creature - from eels and oysters to abalone and anchovies - into a delicacy. Grilled and roasted fish with little more than lemon juice and olive oil shares the spotlight with strongly flavored seafood stews. And it's hard to forget those creamy shellfish risottos of Adriatic coastal towns, full of mussels, shrimp, langoustinos and, perhaps, lobster. Making the transition Knowing that fresh langoustinos, local cheeses and spring artichokes are hallmarks of authentic Italian cuisine is all well and good. But product designers need to know how to harness traditional Italian ingredients for use in mass-produced, processed foods. And while none of us are likely to use white truffles or $40-per-liter unfiltered extra-virgin olive oil in frozen lasagna, manufacturers can still take advantage of the regional Italian ingredients that adapt well to processed-food applications. Since so much of the emphasis in authentic regional Italian cooking lies with fresh local produce and meat, the food manufacturer's best bet leaves the purchase of these elements to the consumers - they can buy their own eggplant, spinach and pork loin from the market. Manufacturers can then furnish the seasonings or base materials that add an Italian note. Prepared sauces and seasonings add distinct Italian flavor to relatively neutral ingredients such as meats, grains and vegetables. Since most Italian sauce is tomato-based, heat-treated tomatoes are not only cost-effective and easy to use, but aesthetically acceptable. And while Italian home and restaurant cooks rarely use dried or frozen herbs or garlic, industrial processors might find fresh too expensive, too perishable, and in short supply. And, low-moisture boxed mixes require an equally low-moisture array of ingredients. In these situations, compromise is necessary, although it does not have to entail a compromise in quality. Freeze-drying can preserve an impressive degree of natural flavor and color. Fortunately, oregano and bay leaf contribute obviously Italian flavor notes while suffering very little during dehydration. And the array of dried garlic products and garlic flavors - from raw to sautéed to roasted and more - leaves processors no excuse for not packing a potent garlic punch into seasoning packets. Rustic cuisines have historically relied on some of the same preservation methods that current food processors employ. Dried grains, canned tomatoes, and smoked pork products work as well in processed foods as in traditional Italian meals, lending an unmistakable flavor profile. The same goes for anchovies, capers and olives. Dried pastas are no-brainers in boxed mixes, and can be adapted to canned products. And don't overlook instant polentas or arborio rice for risottos. Although a true risotto requires the labor of gradually stirring hot stock into the rice, many companies have created boxed risotto mixes combining arborio rice with herbs, spices and bits of dried vegetables and seasonings that, while not providing an exact imitation of Mama's, certainly satisfy harried cooks. And even Italians don't mind instant polenta now and again; precooked and then dried, it cooks in about one-eighth the time of the real thing. It doesn't have the buttery flavor or the creamy texture of the original, but with the right seasoning combination, it'll do in an instant. Make-your-own pizza kits have also brought Italian flavor to American store shelves. Whether frozen, refrigerated or shelf-stable, these meal makers provide a fun and fresh alternative to ordinary frozen pizzas. Since consumers can choose fresh ingredients for the crust- vegetables, meats, cheeses and sauces - they can make their finished pizzas as authentically Italian as they want. Ingredients that would've been off-limits before, such as fresh shellfish, garden-picked herbs, or whole cloves of fresh garlic, can now make their way onto pizzas with relative ease - they don't have to make the dough, let it rise, and form the crust, so they can focus their creative energy on making authentic Italian toppings. Of course, the manufacturer can provide sauces, pepperoni and cheeses in the kits as well. Cheese choices To inject real Italian flavor, texture and an irresistible richness into processed foods, product developers should definitely look at cheese. With modified-melt versions, flavor-enhanced blends, dried powders and a myriad of other processing-friendly options, Italian-style cheeses may provide just the remedy processors need to make their meals speak Italian. While America's domestic Italian-style cheese might not pass muster with Italian government regulations, cheese making is just as serious a business here as it is in Italy. But, is a Parmesan made in California or Wisconsin really Parmesan? "Some cheeses are very origin-specific, such as Roquefort," notes Wayne Casper, senior vice president, business development, Sartori Foods, Plymouth, WI. "It's not made domestically, nor could it be." But the Code of Federal Regulations and a set of standards guide American cheesemakers, designating the processing, analytical and aging characteristics a cheese needs to make it a variety of domestic mozzarella or Parmesan, for example. So product developers, and ultimately consumers, can rest assured that they are getting a high-quality cheese that conforms to specific, exacting standards. Many traditional Italian cheeses such as Romano and Parmesan get their flavor and texture from careful aging. According to Pat Mugan, director of research and development at Sartori Foods, in fresh, or "current," cheese "the texture will start off very curdy and the taste will be somewhat bland." Aging allows caseins to break down into short peptides and amino acids that contribute specific, intense flavors and modify the texture to a smoother, shorter consistency that provides improved meltability and solubilization in a sauce matrix. The only textural problem processors might encounter when using aged cheeses would involve topping a pizza with an overly aged mozzarella (past 35 or 40 days) where the excessive age-related protein breakdown reduces the cheese's stringiness and may even cause it to run off the pizza. To further deal with melting issues, product developers sometimes turn to modified-melt cheeses to make an oozy, but not too oozy, calzone or pizza. Since most restricted-melt cheeses are processed, they have their own set of identity standards, and usually consist of the actual cheese, emulsifiers, water, salt, color, starches and other ingredients. The combination of these determines melting characteristics, leading to higher-melt products that can withstand microwaves, conventional ovens and deep-fat fryers. But Mugan notes that many natural cheeses - depending upon their age, composition, and whether or not they've undergone direct acidification - exhibit good functional melting properties too. For example, aged Parmesans withstand heat and acid, while mozzarella contributes a typically smooth and easy melt. Beyond texture issues, designers must exercise caution to maintain the flavor of aged Italian-style cheeses in heat-processed foods, particularly dried mixes. These present a considerable challenge for formulators who want to keep the intense, complex, aged flavor of a true Italian cheese. Since many of those flavor notes volatilize easily, the heating processes and spray-drying necessary to create an ultra-low-moisture cheese powder for shelf-stable mixes can rob a cheese of its flavor complexity. "The fresh-grated product is much more balanced because, in the drying process, a lot of those volatile flavors are the first to be driven off by the heat of processing," Casper says. "Without being subject to a drying process, these flavors remain in a freshly grated product." Using cheese powder makes it tough to get a flavor that duplicates the freshly grated and aged original (although the herbs, spices and other flavorings in a powdered mix help round out the whole flavor package). Fortunately for makers of many frozen Italian foods, precooking generally occurs after the product is in a closed environment, effectively containing volatile flavor notes during and after processing, notes Allison Rittman, research chef at Sartori. But product designers can still turn to flavor-enhanced cheeses to sidestep the problem of overall flavor loss. "We have a technology wherein, through the ripening process and the choice of enzymes and starter cultures we use, we can enhance a cheese's flavor," Mugan says. In the case of Romano cheeses, this technology doubles normal Romano flavor. Even with heat-treatment, there's enough intense flavor present initially to ensure that a sufficient level remains after processing. The flavor enhancement also allows processors to use less cheese in applications where flavor flash-off isn't as much of an issue, and also to benefit from concomitant cost savings, potential processing advantages, and a reduced caloric and fat content in the finished product, Casper notes. For some cheeses, distinctive flavor isn't as much of an issue - think of a ricotta or mozzarella's subtlety in comparison to a robust Parmigiano. This can benefit processors who use the cheese more for its textural contribution than anything else. For a high-acid matrix such as a hearty tomato sauce, however, product developers may need a more strongly flavored, aged cheese to cut through the sauce's own strong flavor. The same can be said for any ingredient going into a processed Italian food. While it would be nice to use freshly picked basil in a jarred pesto sauce or free-range pheasant in a frozen dinner, product designers who do so won't make it too far beyond bench-top testing. But armed with a little knowledge as to what makes regional Italian food truly Italian, creative product designers should have no problem finding those key ingredients that contribute rich Italian flavor and travel from the production room to the dining room. Now that's Italian! Kimberly Decker, a California-based technical writer, has a bachelor's degree in consumer food science with a minor in English from the University of California-Davis. She lives in the San Francisco Bay area, and enjoys cooking and eating food in addition to writing about it. |
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