Extra Virgin (26 page)

Add the octopus and stir for 3 to 4 minutes. Add the puréed tomatoes, season with salt and pepper to taste, and stir. Bring it to a soft boil, reduce the heat to medium-low, and cook for 30 minutes, until the octopus is tender. Remove the octopus, cut the tentacles into chunks, slice the head into ½-inch strips, and return the octopus pieces to the pot. Add the fisherman’s small catch fish and cook for another 15 to 20 minutes until they’re cooked through. Add the prawns and cook another 10 minutes until pink. Add hot water as needed, a ladleful at a time, to keep the fish covered and the soup from thickening too much.

Transfer to soup bowls, garnish with the remaining parsley, and serve.

Cod Florentine-Style

COD FLORENTINE-STYLE

BACCALA ALLA FIORENTINA

SERVES 4–6

D:
This affordable, fragrant dish—a favorite with our kids—is one of those coastal Tuscan specialties that travelled inland from Livorno to Florence. By lightly cooking salt cod in rosemary and garlic, then reinvigorating the soffritto with onions, leeks, and tomatoes, the flavors meld in a wonderful way. It’s a great hot-weather meal, and pairs nicely with
Sautéed Dandelion Greens with Garlic
or
Oven-Roasted Potatoes
. Advance planning is important though, because salt cod needs to soak in cold water at least overnight before cooking.

2 pounds skin-on salt cod, covered in cold water, refrigerated overnight, rinsed, and deboned

2 cups all-purpose flour, for dredging

5 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil, plus more for serving

4 garlic cloves, roughly chopped

1 sprig fresh rosemary

½ red onion, finely chopped

1 small leek, white part only, well rinsed and finely chopped

1 (28-ounce) can whole peeled tomatoes (pelati)

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

2 tablespoons roughly chopped fresh Italian parsley

Cut the salt cod into roughly 2 × 3-inch pieces.

Spread the flour in a shallow bowl. Dredge the cod pieces and set aside.

In a large nonstick skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil over medium-high heat until hot. Add 1 of the chopped garlic cloves and the rosemary sprig and sauté for 2 minutes, until the garlic is fragrant but not dark. Add the floured cod pieces and fry lightly on both sides, about 4 minutes per side, until golden and crisp. Remove the fish and drain on a platter lined with paper towels.

In the same pan, heat the remaining 3 tablespoons olive oil until hot. Add the onion and leek and sauté for 7 to 10 minutes, until softened and lightly browned. Add the remaining garlic, and cook for an additional 2 minutes, until the garlic is fragrant but not dark.

Using your hands, break apart the tomatoes and add them to the soffritto. Season with salt and pepper, reduce the heat to medium-low, and cook for 25 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce has reduced by one-third.

Add the fried salt cod, being careful not to break apart the pieces, and cook for 5 minutes to heat through. Remove the pan from the heat and set aside for 5 minutes.

Serve warm with a garnish of parsley, a drizzle of olive oil, and seasoned with pepper to taste.

SEARED GROUPER OVER FREGOLA
with fava beans and heirloom tomatoes

CERNIA CON FREGOLA E FAVA

SERVES 4

G:
Grouper has always been incredibly hard to catch by hand, because it lives in deep rock cliff caves. The upside is grouper is incredibly light and fluffy. I pair it with fresh heirloom tomatoes and fava beans, then add fregola, also known as Sardinian pasta. This is a vessel-heavy cooking process, so if it helps, make the grains in advance, then reheat them by sautéing with the fava beans during the step involving the tomato.

1 cup shucked fava beans (from ½ pound fava pods)

3 cups fish stock or shellfish stock (ask your local fishmonger)

Pinch of saffron threads

1 cup fregola or Israeli couscous

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

4 (4- to 6-ounce) skin-on grouper fillets, pin bones removed

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 small leek (white and light green parts only), well rinsed, halved lengthwise, and cut crosswise into ¹⁄³-inch-thick half-moons

1 red heirloom tomato, diced small

Bring a medium pot of water to a boil. Add the beans and blanch for 3 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold water. When cool, peel the skin from the beans and set aside.

In a 4-quart saucepan, bring the fish stock and 2 cups water to a boil. Reduce to a simmer and add the saffron and fregola. Cook the fregola until al dente, according to the package directions. Drain, reserving the broth. Set aside the fregola.

In a 14-inch nonstick skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of the oil over medium-high heat until hot. Season both sides of the fillets generously with salt and pepper. Sear the fish, skin-side down, for 6 to 8 minutes, until the skin is crispy and the fish is cooked two-thirds of the way. Flip and cook the other side for about 3 minutes, until cooked through.

Return the saffron broth to a simmer.

In a small skillet, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil until hot. Add the leek and sauté for 2 minutes, or until soft. Add the reserved fava beans, the tomato, and a pinch of salt. Stir well, cook for 2 minutes, and remove from the heat.

Transfer the fregola to shallow soup bowls and top with the fava bean mixture. Place the seared fish on top and drizzle with a spoonful of the saffron broth.

IMPORTANTE!  
Wild striped bass makes a good alternative to grouper in this recipe.

I BOSCONI—OUR HOUSE IN TUSCANY

G:
Fiesole. There are few words that accurately describe the feeling we get from being on the two hundred acres where I grew up. The right word would somehow incorporate the effect of light on our hills, the rich tradition rising from our land, and the warmth we feel as a family when surrounded by it all. (Is that word “Tuscan” perhaps?)

“I Bosconi” is the name of the estate my great-grandfather Chimici bought in the early part of the twentieth century, and that is now owned by my grandmother. Fiesole is in the heart of Tuscany—it’s an ancient Etruscan town nestled in the hills north of Florence, directly opposite the legendary Chianti Mountains. Our hills aren’t as sensual and soft as the rolling kind that surround Siena to the south—they’re pointier, a little rougher and steeper, but no less beautiful in their natural sweep and majesty. It was blanketed by saffron flowers thousands of years ago when the Etruscans ruled, and as time passed and smaller farms sprouted across it, it transformed into a vast olive orchard and vineyard. When I think about that, it’s easy
to imagine how our little region could be so eternally enchanting.

I grew up in one of the property’s many farmhouses, built in the 1200s. But where Deborah and I stay now is across the field from my childhood home, in what was once the main estate, first built by the rich family who purchased the land in 1669. It’s a huge, square, opulent construction—divided into residential space, livestock rooms, and a place for olives to be unloaded before they are sent to be pressed. When the land changed hands to my great-grandfather, it was still a fully operational collection of farms. He restored the church on the property and invited the priest from Fiesole to celebrate mass there on Saturday afternoons for the farmers who didn’t have the means to get into town on Sunday mornings. The idea was to create a sense of community, and some of my earliest memories are of that bond, watching Nonna Lola and the farmers’ wives making pies, jams, preserves, and sauces with the bounty from the land.

My parents still live in the large farmhouse I grew up in. They spent thirty years restoring it, and like a lot of houses on the land, it’s well shaded by the beautiful cypresses, pines, and oaks that people have planted over the years. My father and I used to walk the property in winter with a barrel and a couple of shovels and look for tiny tree seedlings. We’d cut the baby tree, take care of it, and eventually plant it on the side of our house. I’d do the same with flowers. It was a mission of mine every April to collect irises, extract the bulbs, tend to them in the garage, then plant them in winter all around the house. Now, every spring, whenever my parents encounter a rich, full bloom of flowers around
the olive trees in their garden, they think of me, and the thousands of miles between us don’t seem as far.