Science in the Kitchen and the Art of Eating Well (62 page)

Another peculiarity of muraenids in general is their blood, which if injected into the bloodstream of man is poisonous and deadly, whereas it is innocuous when cooked and eaten.

Because of the special conformation of its gills (which are simple slits), its cylindrical shape, and its very tiny, delicate scales, the eel can live for a long time out of water. But whenever eels have been found slithering on the ground (which happens especially at night), they have
always been seen to be heading in the direction of a water course. Perhaps they do this in order to move from one place to another, or to search for food, consisting of small animals, in the fields surrounding their home.

The eels of the Valley of Comacchio in the lower Romagna region are famous. In fact, one might say that this whole area lives off this fish, which, fresh or marinated, is distributed not only throughout Italy, but also sent abroad. This area is so productive that on a single dark, stormy night in October 1905, 150,000 kilograms (about 330,000 pounds) of eels were caught; even more amazing is the final result of fishing for that year, which you will find described in recipe 688.

In some places in Italy eels are called “capitoni” when they are large and “bisatti” when they are small. They live in all the rivers of Europe except the ones that flow into the Black Sea, including the Danube and its tributaries.

The only difference between the freshwater eel and the saltwater eel, known by the name of conger, is that the former has a shorter upper jaw and does not grow as large as the latter. Indeed, there are conger eels up to 3 meters (about 9 feet) long. Perhaps this large, snakelike fish is the origin of the legend of the sea serpent, once perpetuated even by usually reliable people who- exaggerated its size, probably owing to some hallucination.

If you can, always select eels from the Comacchio Valley, which are the best in Italy; only those from Lake Bolsena, mentioned by Dante,
⁸⁶
might surpass them.

When eels are large and you want to cook them on a spit, they should be skinned. Cut them into sections 3 centimeters (about 1-1/5 inches) long and skewer them on a spit between two rounds of toasted bread with a few sage leaves or bay leaves, if you are not afraid that the latter’s sharp aroma will repeat on you. Cook without condiments over a moderate fire, and at the end over a nice hot flame to obtain a crisp crust. Season only with salt and lemon wedges when you are about to send them to the table.

In my opinion, medium-sized eels come out tastier cooked on a grill without removing the skin which, when seasoned with lemon juice at the moment of serving, is not unpleasant to the taste when you suck on it. Season only with salt and pepper. The people of the Comacchio Valley use medium-sized eels for grilling. They skin them if they are a little large, but only clean them if they are slender; then they nail the eels’ head to a wooden board, split the fish open with a sharp knife, remove the spine, and spread them open on a grill, seasoning only with salt and pepper at the midway point. They are eaten piping hot.

Dry red wine should be drunk when eating eels.

Take medium-sized eels, and remove the skin by making a circular incision under the head, which you will hold tightly with a kitchen towel so that it will not slip from your hands in spite of the notoriously slippery skin of this fish. Then pull down the skin, which will come off whole. Cut the eel into finger-length pieces or a little shorter, and season with oil, salt, and pepper, letting them stand for an hour or two.

Take an iron pan, coat the bottom with oil, add two whole cloves of garlic, and fresh sage leaves; saute for a little while, and roll the pieces of eel one at a time in bread crumbs, then arrange them in the pan one next to the other, pouring the rest of the seasonings on top. Cook in a Dutch oven with fire above and below, and when they start to brown, add a little water to the pan.

The flesh of this fish, which is very delicate and tasty, is rather difficult to digest on account of its high fat content.

This dish is best made with eels that are rather large, which you will cut into short pieces without removing the skin.

Finely chop a rather generous amount of onion and parsley, put it on the fire with a little oil, pepper, and salt, and when the onion has browned toss in the eel. Wait until it has absorbed the flavor of the seasonings, and then finish cooking with tomato sauce or tomato paste diluted with water. Make sure to have a good amount of sauce left, if you intend to serve the eel on top of lightly toasted rounds of bread. This is a delicate tidbit, but it is not suited to all stomachs.

Take an eel weighing about 1/2 a kilogram (about 1 pound), or several adding up to about the same weight; it is not necessary to use large eels for this dish. Rub them with sand to clean them of mucus, then rinse and cut into log-like segments. Put a thinly sliced clove of garlic, three or four coarsely chopped sage leaves, the peel of a quarter of a lemon, and a little oil in a skillet. Put on the fire, and when the garlic has browned, put in the eel and season with salt and pepper. When the liquid starts to evaporate, keep moving the eel segments with the point of a knife so that they do not stick to the pan; once they are browned on one side, pour in some tomato sauce or diluted tomato paste and turn them. When they are browned on the other side, pour in a good finger of dry red or white wine mixed with two fingers of water, cover the pot and finish cooking the eel over a low flame. Send to the table with a generous amount of their own sauce. This recipe serves four people.

The people of Comacchio never use oil to season eel, no matter how they cook it. This can be seen in this eel stew, which could also be
called eel soup or “cacciucco.” In fact, this fish contains so much fat that adding oil spoils it rather than enhancing the flavor. I will transcribe here a recipe that was kindly given to me and which I have successfully tested.

“For 1 kilogram (about 2 pounds) of eels, take three onions, a stalk of celery, a good sized carrot, parsley, and the peel of half a lemon. Coarsely chop everything but the lemon, and boil in water with salt and pepper. Cut the eels into segments, but leave the segments connected by a strip of flesh. Take an appropriately sized pot and lay a layer of eel on the bottom, covering it with a layer of the parboiled chopped vegetables (but discard the lemon), then another layer of eel, another of vegetables, and so on, as much as will fit in the pot. Cover with the water in which you cooked the vegetables; boil slowly in a tightly covered pot, shaking and turning the pot, but never stirring, because you would break it all up. We usually bury the pot in ashes and coals to just above the middle point in front of a clear-burning wood fire, constantly shaking and turning the pot. When the pieces of eel that were held together by a strip of flesh start to come apart, they are almost cooked. At this point add a generous tablespoon of strong vinegar and some tomato paste. Taste the broth to adjust it for salt and pepper (be generous); boil just a little longer. You might even serve from the same pot, because this is a homey dish. Serve on top of slices of bread, on heated plates.”

I should point out that here we are talking about medium-sized eels, not skinned, and that if the onions are large, two will suffice, and that two glasses of water are enough to cook the vegetables. It is a good idea to warm the sliced bread in the oven, without toasting it.

Stew the eel as in recipe 493, and when it is cooked remove it from the pot and cook the peas in the broth. Then return the eel to the pot to warm it, and serve. Tomato sauce is out of place here; but add water if necessary.

The eels of the Comacchio Valley bring to mind the gray mullet that live in the same valley, which are nice and fat and of excellent flavor when they are brought to market toward the end of autumn. The people of Comacchio prepare them in the following way, which is quite good. They remove the scales and the gills, but not the innards, because, as with woodcock, they say that this is the best part. They season them with salt and pepper only, and place them on the grill over a high flame. When they are cooked, they place them between two warm plates not far from the fire for five minutes. Just before serving, they turn the plates over, so that the one that was on top is on the bottom, and the fat that has dripped remains sprinkled over the fish. This dish is served with lemon that is squeezed over it.

Recipe 688 gives an indication of how they serve gray mullet in Romagna.

The variety of clams called “arselle” do not retain sand like the ones called “telline” (tellina or sunset clams), so one need only rinse them thoroughly in cool water. Both types of clam should be cooked with a soffritto of garlic, olive oil, parsley, and a dash of pepper. Shake the pot, and keep it covered so that clams do not dry out. Remove them when the shells open, and garnish them with the following sauce: one or more egg yolks (depending on the amount of clams), lemon juice, a teaspoon of flour, broth, and a little of the liquid from the clams. Cook until creamy, and pour over the clams just before serving.

I prefer them without sauce, and serve them over slices of bread warmed (but not toasted) over the fire; you can taste the natural flavor of the shellfish that way. I do not put tomatoes in clam risotto for the same reason.

Finely chop a bit of onion and put it on the fire with oil and a dash of pepper. When the onion has browned, add a pinch of parsley chopped not too fine and shortly after toss in the clams with tomato sauce or tomato paste. Shake the pot frequently, and when the shells have opened, pour the clams over toasted bread slices that you have arranged on a platter beforehand.

Clams are good cooked this way; but to my taste they are inferior to the ones in the preceding recipe.

Finely chop a rather generous mixture of onion, a clove of garlic, and parsley. Put it on the fire with oil, salt, and pepper. Strain when it has browned, squeezing well against the mesh. Cut the cuttlefish into strips, but first clean them as indicated in recipe 74; toss them into the pot with the strained soffritto, add water if necessary, and when they are almost cooked, pour in the peas dripping with the cold water in which they have been soaking.

As everyone knows, this fish (
Tinea vulgaris
) from the family of the
Cyprinidae
or carp, prefers to live in the still waters of marshes, although it is also found in deep lakes and rivers. But what many people may not know is that the tench, like the carp, is an example of a ruminant fish. When food reaches its stomach, it is sent back up the pharynx by antiperistaltic motion and further chewed and broken up by the pharyngeal teeth, which have evolved especially for this use.

Take some large tench (the ones sold live at the market in Florence are among the best, though tench is considered an inferior fish) and cut off the fins, head, and tail. Slit them open along the back, remove the spine and bones and cut in two lengthwise. Dredge
in flour, then dip in beaten egg that you have seasoned with salt and pepper; coat with bread crumbs and repeat this last step twice. Sauté in butter and serve with lemon wedges and a side dish of sauteed mushrooms, if in season.

It is a good idea to mention here how to eliminate or lessen the bad smell of still-water fish. Toss the fish into boiling water, leaving it for several minutes until the skin starts to crack, and then plunge into ice-cold water before cooking. The French call this operation
limoner
, from the word
limon
, meaning silt.

I would be failing to give credit where it is due if I didn’t tell you that 1 owe quite a few recipes in this book to the kindness of several ladies, who also favored me with this one. Although it looks like a true pasticcio, when I tried it, it came out worthy to be served at a dinner party, if prepared properly.