Re: Scott's Meal

[Scott Fisher <sefisher@domain.elided>]

karld@domain.elided wrote:
> 
> Scott, If you're going to tell us about that wonderful meal, with so many Alfisti in your
> neighborhood, you MUST reveal the location...and maybe share your pesonal recipes with Alfisti
> near and far...(my car is running fine, minimal Alfa content!)
> 
> Karl
> '95 168LS
> Sunnyvale, California

Well, then!  A note in advance: this posting contains more "digest"
content than "Alfa" content...

We were given a gift certificate to:

Pezella's Villa Napoli
El Camino Real near Mary
Sunnyvale, CA

A little on the expensive side, decent wine list, and osso buco only on
Tuesdays.  However... I was inspired to make osso buco at home this
weekend.  Much better, though a LOT more work.

Which sounds like Alfa content after all... :-)

For culinary novices: osso buco is one of the most famous specialties of
Milanese cuisine -- veal shanks braised in a white wine/tomato sauce (at
least in the recipe I used, out of Waverly Root's excellent "The Cooking
of Italy").  You start by making a sofrito (what the French call a
mirepoix: minced onion, carrots, and celery, here with the addition of a
few cloves of garlic; because my wife dislikes celery, we substituted
minced sweet red pepper in this dish) sauteed in butter in the bottom of
a flameproof casserole with a tight-fitting lid.  Next, dust the veal
shanks lightly in salt, pepper and flour, then brown them in olive oil,
place them over the sofrito, and drain all but a light film of the olive
oil, to which you add about half a bottle of white wine.  Reduce it over
high heat to about half its original volume, then cook chopped tomatoes,
a pinch each of basil and thyme and six sprigs of Italian parsley till
the tomatoes come apart.  Pour this over the veal, cover the casserole
tightly, and bake at 350 F for an hour and 15 minutes.

What we learned last night: the veal is very good if you serve it
immediately, but it's MUCH better if you let it stand in the casserole,
covered but out of the oven, for half an hour.  The meat takes up the
sauce as it cools, it appears, and the heavy cast-iron kettle we used
retained enough heat to keep everything piping hot for at least 30
minutes.  The last shank we took from the cooking vessel was juicier,
more flavorful, and even tenderer than the first; I'm doing that on
purpose next time, I'll make a point not to start the risotto till the
osso buco come out of the oven.

We topped the veal shanks with their classic garnish, gremolata, made by
mincing flat-leat Italian parsley very fine, then mixing with grated
lemon zest and finely minced garlic.  We paired this main course with
Milano's other famous contribution to the world's cuisine, risotto,
which is Italian arborio rice simmered in hot chicken stock till it's
creamy and smooth.  Risotto has become something of a specialty of mine
over the years; my favorite variation, which I did last night, starts by
sauteeing chopped fresh chanterelles in with the onion before adding the
raw rice, then deglazing with Armagnac (a French brandy from Gascony). 
I included saffron, part of the traditional Milanese preparation, but
left out the fresh green peas.  

Earlier in the day, I'd made peperonata (a vegetable dish made by
sauteeing sweet peppers and onions with chopped tomatoes, then cooking
till most of the liquid is boiled away and it takes on a caramelized
flavor from the sugars in the vegetables); we served it as a kind of
cold relish or side dish, the sweet/tangy mix of the peppers and
tomatoes perfectly countering the almost unctuous risotto and the tender
veal.  Superb.  I'd also chosen a Bardolino to have with the meal, not
knowing till my wife read the back label that this wine came from
vineyards to the east of the Lago Di Garda, which is practically within
sight of Milan, on the slopes of the Alps that separate Lombardy from
Switzerland.   This light and fragrant red was the perfect choice for
the aromatic but deep veal dish and the creamy, earthy risotto, redolent
of the forest floor from the chanterelles and Armagnac.

For dessert, I made up a variation on the Sicilian classic cake,
cassata, which I called cassata d'estate ("summer cassata").  I used the
traditional filling of sweetened ricotta mixed with coarsely-chopped
chunks of fine Italian dark chocolate and a little sweet Marsala,
layered between slices of pound cake moistened with more of the
marsala.  But instead of the formidable coating of dark chocolate
buttercream that the classic cassata used, we simply sliced the cake and
topped it with fresh mixed berries (raspberries and Marion blackberries)
and whipped cream.  

A good weekend.  Oh, I drove the Alfa on Saturday, too.  A very good
weekend. :-)

- --Scott Fisher
  1974 Spider Veloce
  1967 GT 1300 Junior
  dreaming of a kitchen as big as the garage one day

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