Read Why Italians Love to Talk About Food Online
Authors: Elena Kostioukovitch
As a result, countless pilgrims flocked to the holy places of the city. In the Middle Ages, a particular name was attributed to those who made a vow to go to Rome:
romeo
. (It is not by chance that the enamored Romeo appears to Shakespeare's Juliet for the first time as an unknown wayfarer [
pellegrino
] whom she calls “good pilgrim.”) Originally
romeo
was a Greek term for someone who made a pilgrimage to Palestine, but soon enough, based on a false etymology, it began to be applied to travelers going to Rome.
The journey of the
romeo
was anything but easy. Before setting off, the pilgrim made a will and testament, agreed with his wife upon the duration and forms of possible widowhood, paid his debts, made peace with everyone, received the blessing of the clergyman, and saw to his clothing: the ritual cloak, sandals, staff, and knapsack. The pilgrims who went to Spain, to Santiago de Compostela, glued a conch shell on their caps. Those who went to Jerusalem applied a palm branch, while the majority, on the way to Rome, affixed a badge to their hats portraying the acheropite image of Christ.
From every part of Europe, from North Africa and from Asia, the routes of the
romei
converged on Rome. The Amber Road ran from the Baltic Sea through the Tyrol; the Norman Road from Byzantium and Asia Minor through Puglia, in southeast Italy, a region of castles and Norman cathedrals. Inhabitants from the coasts of the Black Sea and from northern Europe (the Varangians) also came by way of the Norman Road, passing through Byzantium. The Via Emilia (or Via Romea) led to Rome from the Balkans and eastern Europe through Aquileia and Friuli, then through the Veneto and Romagna. The Via Francigena set out from Britain, passed through France, and crossed the Alpine pass of St. Bernard to reach Aosta, Piedmont, Liguria, and the Tuscan coast before finally reaching Rome.
The Via Francigena could be described as humanity's main pilgrimage route. It was traveled by pilgrims on their way to Palestine and by those headed for the sanctuary of Santiago de Compostela. The latter embarked on ships of the Republic of Genoa in the port of Santa Margherita Ligure, where the cathedral of San Giacomo still stands today and where propitiatory ceremonies are held for those who sail. And of course the Via Francigena was also used to transport goods by land to France, England, and Holland. It is only natural, then, that the wealthiest culinary areas should be situated along this road: the most civilized, most cultured, and most refined cuisines of medieval, Renaissance, and Baroque Europe.
The position of host country meant Italy had to furnish foreign travelers with washstands and clean plates. The cuisine, too, evolved in relation to the demand presented by the enormous number of wayfarers and travelers passing through Italy. Italians invented various forms of nonperishable products “packed to go” for the pilgrims, and made focaccias
and breads capable of being kept a long time in a knapsack. Even today, innkeepers and restaurant owners give free rein to their imagination on such occasions, though their excessive zeal may sometimes lead them to surpass the limits of good taste. For example, tourist menus for the last jubilee, Jubilee 2000, included the following specialties for the enjoyment of pilgrims and guests:
abbacchio del camerlengo
(papal chamberlain's lamb),
medaglioni del cardinale
(cardinal's medallions),
porcini alla sistina
(Sistine-style porcini mushrooms),
insalata cupolona
(cupola salad), and
cicoria del fraticello
(young friar's chicory).
Medieval monasteries, outposts of Catholicism, were the principal beneficiaries and agents of this economy centered on religious tourism. Between the seventh and tenth centuries the Mediterranean Sea became a dangerous communication route, due to Arabic expansion and the weakening of the Byzantine Empire, as well as an increase in brigands and pirates. As a result, the economy of Europe experienced a tragic stagnation that eased only in the eleventh century, due to the Crusades. In the eighth century, the Arabs controlled the Mediterranean and prevented Europeans from traveling and trading. This led to the economic decline of the old European cities that had flourished in the Roman era, and had acquired importance in the fifth to eighth centuries as transit points for goods delivered to Mediterranean ports and distributed throughout the continent as far as the Rhine Valley.
The entire European merchant class experienced a crisis. The importation of fine goods was reduced to practically zero. Both papyrus (for writing) and herbs (for medicine and for cooking) became unobtainable. During this difficult period, only Italy managed to maintain an important network of cultural and trade relations. These relations existed among both the castles of the nobility and the episcopal palaces, but above all among the monasteries. Regardless of the economic and political conditions, men, goods, and information circulated from monastery to monastery, along the Via Francigena and the other pilgrim routes, under the protection of Catholic guards.
It is common knowledge that in the so-called dark period of the Middle Ages the monasteries preserved existing and ancient book culture, chronicled history, recorded languages, and created libraries. But the monasteries also saved the economy, along with agronomy, zootechnics, tourism, and gastronomic culture. And, it should be said, the geopolitical structure of Italy as well.
The energy and creativity of the monasteries influenced the territory's cuisine. A healthy vegetarian regimen was observed in the convents, and the Mediterranean diet was refined and improved. At the same time, the expert monastery cooks with the tall
white hats (this head covering of the anchorites later became an attribute of cooks' uniforms in all restaurants) did not fail to incorporate elements of the pilgrims' cuisine.
Ancient texts, including those on agriculture, were studied in the monasteries, and collections of recipes were compiled. Popular cuisine was thus perfected and refined. The libraries of the monasteries were fonts of culinary philosophy and practical knowledge. The kitchens and vegetable gardens of the monasteries functioned as experimental laboratories. Olive oil (
olio santo
, holy oil) is used, as we know, in the administration of several sacraments of the Catholic liturgy. Therefore the task of cultivating olives scientifically and selecting the best varieties fell to the monasteries. Many types of oven products were also invented in the monasteries, where breads were prepared for daily distribution to the poor, as well as for sale, of course.
The Benedictine monks invented the Sicilian macaroni pie described by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa in
Il Gattopardo
(
The Leopard
), the Roman and Neapolitan rice croquettes (
arancini
), Ascoli-style olives (
olive ascolane
) with their complicated filling, the Sicilian dessert
cassata
, and miniature almond-paste figures. Friulian smoked
speck
and Montasio cheese were expressly created by the Benedictine monks for pilgrims along the Aquileia route, in the thirteenth century.
Moreover the abbeys and their cooks fostered the intermingling of cultural traditions. In the monasteries, in fact, monks from various countries encountered one another. The monk Domenico Cantucci, having gone to Spain to take part in the Inquisition, imported saffron (
Crocus sativus
) to the Dominican monastery of Gran Sasso, and as a result magnificent saffron plantations were developed in Abruzzi.
The cuisine of this region is more varied than any other, since it was influenced by all its neighbors, not to mention the rather perceptible contributions of foreign conquerors. The Spanish, who dominated the region in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, left saffron risotto, now a symbol of Lombard cuisine, as a memento of their stay. And the Austrians, who governed Lombardy in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, introduced the typical Wiener schnitzel, here renamed
cotoletta alla milanese
(Milanese-style veal cutlet). The Lombard gastronomical repertory combines the products of the Alps (protein-heavy, as in any mountain cuisine) and those of the Po Valley (largely made up of carbohydrates, as in any lowlands menu).
The only influences that are impossible to trace to Lombardy are those of seafood cuisine. Nevertheless, Milan boasts the best wholesale fish market in Italy, which supplies Milanese restaurants specializing in seafood dishes. The latter are very pleasant to dine in, even if they have no relation to Milanese traditions and authentic Lombard cuisine.
Bergamo and Brescia, at one time under the rule of La Serenissima (Venice), still have a Venetian-inspired cuisine. In Mantua and Crema, Emilian dishes predominate. And the mark of Swiss cuisine is felt in northern Lombardy, particularly in the lake region of Como, a border city.
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Como has been a cradle of culinary talent since very ancient times. It is not by chance that this city was the birthplace of the celebrated master Martino Rossi, author of one of the most important Italian books on the art of cooking, the
Liber de arte coquinaria
(1450). Martino, who worked for many years as the personal chef of the patriarch of Aquileia, also lived at the Venetian court, and later in Milan, with Condottiere Gian Giacomo Trivulzio. Trivulzio, formerly in the service of the Aragons of Naples and then of the king of France, who named him marshal and commander of the French troops in Italy, later entered the service of the dukes of Milan, where the court had become the political and cultural center for relations between Italy and Switzerland. From Martino we know that by the fifteenth century the fundamental component of Como's cuisine was freshwater fish, just as it is today: trout, perch, tench, shad, and small dried fish, soaked in vinegar and fried (
missoltini
or
misultit
). Risotto with perch spread from Como to all of northern Lombardy.
The Napoleonic invasion and rampant Francomania in the eighteenth century left behind a very particular dish: the
cassoela
, or casserole, analogous to the
pot-au-feu
of southern France. Composed of meat and vegetables, it is a substantial one-dish meal, generally served on Sundays and accompanied by polenta; elaborate and difficult to digest, it is certainly not to be eaten on one's lunch break. But other, more convenient one-dish meals allow the hardworking, rushed, methodical Lombard to sit down hastily at the table, fill up swiftly, and plunge back into his everyday work routine.