Tonight I am in Rome, cooking with my son. On the menu: antipasti plate, insalate, and potato gnocchi all’amatriciana (a traditional Roman sauce made from guanciale – find the recipe here). Jack is my special helper in the kitchen. I have found that one of the best ways to pass the time with a three year old is to cook a luxurious meal together. Jack loves to put spices in a bowl, fetch ingredients, sample the food as we cook it, and talk about what’s happening in the pan (“look Jack, bubbles!”). One of my primary goals on this trip was to cook a massive Roman feast for my family, so I intend to draw this out as much as possible.
Before we begin I open a bottle of Barolo, also known as “the king’s wine,” and let it breathe for a bit.
This particular wine goes very well with meat and cheese, so my first task is to craft the perfect antipasti platter. My particular version might not necessarily be “authentic,” but it includes everything I am in the mood to munch on. Let’s see, we have salami ventricina, prosciutto, pesto, crusty bread, soft bread, ricotta cheese, Romano cheese, green olives, anchovies, tomatoes, basil, olive oil with red pepper, and balsamic vinegar.
As I set each item out, I discuss the colors and textures with my sous chef, and we sample each item one by one. By the time everything is arranged, the wine is ready to drink! The flavors are warm and inviting, rich and complex. I especially enjoy the anchovies with bread, salami, cheese, basil, and tomato. These anchovies come pre-filleted and packed in oil and salt in a jar, perfect for eating or cooking!
Jack’s favorite is crusty bread and green olives. I’ve never met a toddler who loves olives as much as Jack (I certainly didn’t at that age, or even now to be honest). I think perhaps people are born either loving or hating olives. Perhaps it’s like a gene. Some scientist will probably study this in the future and solve this mystery once and for all.
Well I could eat this combo all night, but there is work to be done. Time for another glass of wine! I mean, time to cook more stuff. First we brown the guanciale just a bit, until it starts to shed some of its yummy fat into the pan. Guanciale is a type of pork made from pig jowls (mmm jowls). To say the least, it is succulent. It isn’t really a bacon flavor, but instead a buttery, soft, melt-in-your-mouth little chunk of fat that give any dish it touches a distinct porky flavor. A little goes a long way, so I decided to cook up a bunch! I’m not sure where I will find this meat in America, but I intend to hunt for it.
Now come onions, red pepper, mushrooms, and tomatoes, cooking together in the pig fat (with some olive oil too because why the hell not it’s delicious).
I’ve heard that Americans cannot tell the difference between rancid olive oil and fresh olive oil, so many of the olive oils in America are crap. I’m not sure if that’s true, but I can say that this jar I bought today is fresh and aromatic and flavorful! In fact, all of these ingredients taste so high quality, so fresh, so gourmet, as if I bought them at a five star restaurant. But they were all purchased with a 100 yards of my apartment in Trastevere. It makes me wonder what kinds of additives and impurities I eat every day in America. What is really inside a can of American tomatoes? What chemicals are sprayed on American basil? What hormones did the pig ingest? It’s sad to think about, so I’ll save that conversation for another day. It’s best to be mindful and live in the moment. My kitchen is starting to smell incredible, and I have lots more wine to drink. I am in Rome with my son, cooking traditional Italian food with authentic ingredients, sweating in the heat of the afternoon, drinking the king’s wine. Ah life!
I’m realizing that most of my favorite travel memories seem to involve food. On all of my road trips and journeys around the world, culinary experiences stand out in my mind like monuments. The fish eye I ate in Taipei, the fried pickles in Idaho, the lobster in Maine, the dumplings in Prague, the currywurst in Berlin… those are the experiences I take home with me, the scents and flavors I cherish when I reflect on past adventures. But I am more than a food tourist. It’s really about the whole ambiance, the vibe of a place. In Rome, it’s the food, but also the gentle lull of the dialect, the long relaxing meal, the exquisite wine, the hand gestures, the cigarette smoke, the cobblestones, the beautiful dresses and finely-tailored suits, the vespas, the crumbling buildings, the clothes hanging on wires, the all-encompassing heat. It’s all part of the package, all part of the magic.
The sauce has been bubbling for quite some time now, so I think it’s time for me to go boil some gnocchi. For now I will say ciao! As the Italians say, may you eat well, laugh often, and love much.