Janie Trayer

Inspired by my recent trip to Italy I set out to recreate a lunch that I had been served by a wonderful home cook. After a month of dining on incredible food, this meal was right at the top of my list. It couldn’t have been simpler and yet it was just perfect-a bowl of handmade noodles sauced with a meat ragu. The first bite of the incredibly light pasta bite brought me right back to my grandmother’s table. I savored each and every bite and willingly helped myself to seconds, even though I knew there was a chicken dish yet to come.

Back at home I knew this was a meal that I had to make for dinner. Since I’ve been eager to practice my pasta skills, I whipped up a batch of dough and after using the pasta machine to roll it out, I cut the pasta into wide noodles by hand. For the sauce I made a classic Bolognese. I’m not one to brag, but it was pretty darn good and was quite close to that lunch on the farm.

If you don’t feel up to making your own pasta, just make sure that you get a good brand of Italian dried pasta. This sauce (which can be made a day ahead and gently reheated) is perfect served with pappardelle.

Ragu Bolognese

• 5 tablespoons olive oil
• 3 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 medium carrot,finely chopped
• 1 celery rib, finely chopped
• 1 garlic clove, thinly sliced
• 1/4 pound pancetta, cut into quarters
• 1 lb. ground veal
• 1 lb. ground pork
• 1/4 cup tomato paste
• 1 cup whole milk
• 1 cup dry white wine
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper

Heat oil and butter in a wide 6-8 quart heavy pot over medium heat until the butter is melted, then cook the carrot, onion, celery and garlic, stirring occasionally until tender but not browned, about 10-15 minutes.

While vegetables cook, pulse the pancetta in a food processor (I use a mini-prep) until finely chopped.

When vegetables are tender, increase the heat to high and stir in veal, pork and pancetta and cook, stirring occasionally and breaking up any lumps, until the meat is starting to brown, 10-15 minutes. Stir in tomato paste, milk, and wine and gently simmer, uncovered over low heat, stirring occasionally, until almost all liquid has evaporated but ragu is still moist, 1-1/2 hours. Stir in salt and pepper and remove from heat, toss with pasta and serve.

Is Chianti a place? Is Chianti a name for a wine? Is Chianti a grape variety? Is Chianti a glass of Love?

WHAT THE HELL IS CHIANTI?

Nowadays, Chianti is a red Italian wine produced in the Chianti area of Tuscany.

ONCE UPON A TIME…

…In the thirteenth century, viticulture was known to flourish in the “Chianti Mountains” around Florence.  The merchants in the nearby villages of Castellina, Gaiole and Radda formed the Lega del Chianti to produce and promote the local wine.

In 1398, records note that the earliest embodiment of Chianti was, believe it or not, a white wine!

In 1716, Cosimo III de’ Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany, issued an edict legislating that the three villages of the Lega del Chianti, as well as the village of Greve and a 2-mile hillside north of Greve as the only officially recognized producers of Chianti.

By the eighteenth century, Chianti was widely recognized as a red wine, but the exact composition and grape varieties used to make Chianti at this point is unknown. Sangiovese? For sure! And what else? Canaiolo? Mammolo? Marzemino? Who knows!

Nearly 150 years later, in the 1860s, Bettino Ricasoli (later Prime Minister in the Kingdom of Italy) created the recipe of Chianti as a Sangiovese based wine. This new recipe called for: 70% Sangiovese, 15% Canaiolo, 10% Malvasia (later amended to include Trebbiano) and 5% other local red varieties.

In the 1930s, subsequent expansions throughout the twentieth century would eventually bring the Chianti zone to cover almost all of Tuscany. The original zone established by the edict of Cosimo III de’ Medici would eventually be considered the heart of the Chianti Classico region.

In 1967, the Denominazione di origine controllata (DOC) regulation set by the Italian government firmly established the “Ricasoli formula” of a Sangiovese-based blend with 10-30% Malvasia and Trebbiano.

By the late twentieth century, a group of ambitious producers began working outside the boundaries of DOC regulations to make what they believed would be a higher quality style of Chianti. These wines eventually became known as the “Super Tuscans.” Many of the producers behind the Super Tuscan movement were originally Chianti producers who rebelled against what they felt were antiquated DOC regulations. Some of these producers wanted to make Chiantis that were 100% Sangiovese. Others wanted the flexibility to experiment with blending French grape varieties such as Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot or to not be required to blend in any white grape varieties.

Since 1996, the blend for Chianti and Chianti Classico has been 75-100% Sangiovese, up to 10% Canaiolo and sometimes up to 20% of any other approved red grape variety such as Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot or Syrah. Since 2006, the use of white grape varieties (such as Malvasia and Trebbiano) have been prohibited in Chianti Classico.

Nowadays: The Chianti region covers a vast area of Tuscany and includes within its boundaries several overlapping regions. Other well known Sangiovese-based Tuscan wines such as Brunello di Montalcino and Vino Nobile di Montepulciano could be bottled and labeled under the most basic designation of “Chianti” if their producers chose to do so. Yet they don’t, they prefer to remain distinguishable so they can sell Brunello for more!

THE CHIANTI AREA

The Chianti DOCG (Denominazione di origine controllata e garantita) covers all the Chianti wine and includes a large stretch of land encompassing the western reaches of the province of Pisa, the Florentine hills in the province of Florence, to the province of Arezzo and Siena. Within this regions are vineyards that overlap the DOCG regions of Brunello di Montalcino, Vino Nobile di Montepulciano and Vernaccia di San Gimignano. Any Sangiovese-based wine made according to the Chianti guidelines from these vineyards can be labeled and marked under the basic Chianti DOCG should the producer wish to use the designation.

Cherry, plum and raspberry… WHAT SHOULD WE EXPECT WHEN SIPPING A GLASS OF CHIANTI?

Chianti Classico wines tend to be medium-bodied with medium-high to high acidity. Floral, cherry and light nutty hints are characteristic aromas, expressing more notes on the mid-palate and finish than at the front of the mouth. Chianti Classico wines are characterized in their youth by their predominantly floral and cinnamon spicy bouquet. As the wine ages, aromas of tobacco and leather can emerge. Chiantis tend to have medium-high acidity and medium tannins. The acidity in the wines make them very versatile, particularly with Italian cuisines that feature red sauce, as well with as beef, lamb; and, why not, with pizza and seafood. Basic level Chianti is often characterized by its juicy fruit notes of cherry, plum and raspberry and can range from simple quaffing wines to those approaching the level of Chianti Classico. Well-made examples of Chianti Classico often have the potential to age and improve in the bottle for six to twenty years.

MANY WORDS FOR CHIANTI… WHAT DO THEY MEAN?

Chianti Classico must have a minimum alcohol level of at least 12% with a minimum of 7 months aging in oak, while

Chianti Classico riserva must be aged at least 27 months at the winery with a minimum alcohol level of at least 12.5%.

Chianti Riserva: Aged Chianti (38 months) may be labeled as Riserva.

Chianti Superiore: Chianti that meets more stringent requirements (lower yield, higher alcohol content and dry extract) may be labeled as Chianti Superiore, although Chianti from the “Classico” sub-area is not allowed in any event to be labeled as “Superiore”.

Chianti Gallo Nero: A Chianti may have a picture of a black rooster (known in Italian as a Gallo Nero) on the neck of the bottle, which indicates that the producer of the wine is a member of the Gallo Nero Consortium, an association of producers of the Classico sub-area sharing marketing costs. Since 2005 the black rooster has been the emblem of the Chianti Classico producers association.

DID WE KNOW THAT…?

Chianti was historically associated with that squat, funny bottle dressed with a straw basket, called a “fiasco.” The name “fiasco” comes from an unsuccessful attempt (a fiasco, indeed) to craft a traditionally shaped bottle. Because of that “mistake” the bottle didn’t have the desired shape and couldn’t stand on its own. The straw basket was needed to make the bottle stand vertically.

This is not the only example in history of a “mistake” that becomes a “legend!” Never underestimate the greatness of great mistakes!!!

Janie Trayer

Hello from Arezzo! As I sit here writing I’m listening to the sound of church bells ringing all over the city. I am lucky to be staying in a great apartment with a huge giardino (garden) right in the center of town. I love that I can walk out my door and be in the midst of all the action – shops, bars, cafes, restaurants. I seem to be taking part in a constant food fest, as I cannot stop myself from making a purchase in just about every food shop that I enter. If you’ve been to Italy before, you know that about every third store has something to do with food!

I definitely have a sweet tooth, but I would say that I’m more partial to candy than to pastries, that is until I get to Italy. I’m fascinated by the pasticcini (little pastries) that are sold here. Walk into any pasticceria (pastry shop) and you will see the most gorgeous tiny pastries, not more than a few bites each. I am smitten by these tiny sweets and since they’re small, you can buy a few different ones and decide on your favorite.

Here in Arezzo my favorite shop for these delectable pastries is Pasticceria de’ Cenci. A few years back I actually spent a few weeks in an apartment right across from the shop-now that was dangerous! The selection is amazing but I am partial to a little oval tart that is filled with ricotta. I always have to order at least one of these and then sample something new. If you buy more than a few, they wrap your purchase up in beautiful blue paper and tie it with gold ribbon-the perfect gift to take to a friend. I know I’d be happy if someone showed up at my house with this pretty package.

If you ever are lucky to visit Arezzo, make sure you sure you stop in at this delightful shop.

Pasticceria de’ Cenci
Via de’ Cenci, 17
Arezzo

Janie Trayer

I frequently have a running list going of things I would like to make in the kitchen. Ages ago I read about “Farinata” a crepe-like snack that comes from the Liguria region of Italy. Made with chickpea flour, water with a little bit of olive oil, salt and if you like, fresh rosemary, it is a relatively simple food to make. A few weeks back I was down in San Diego’s Little Italy and there in one its shops I found the necessary chickpea flour. I knew that we would soon be nibbling farinata with a glass of wine before dinner.

We sampled the real deal when we attended an incredible wine festival in the town of Nizza Monferrato located in the Barolo area of Piemonte. Farinata really is street food, as you can nibble on it while you’re strolling along. That’s exactly what we did-drank a little Barolo and enjoyed the farinata right out of the enormous wood burning stove.

Farinata

• 1-1/2 cups water
• 1 cup tightly packed chickpea flour
• 1/2 teaspoon sea salt
• 4-1/2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary
• Lots of freshly ground pepper

Pour the water in a large mixing bowl and gradually sift the flour and salt into it. Whisk well and smooth out any lumps. Let sit 3-4 hours.

Preheat the oven to 500 degrees. Skim any foam off the batter. Oil a 12″ pizza pan and 9″ shallow metal baking pan each with 1 tablespoon olive oil. I used 2-10″ cast iron skillets instead. Pour in a very thin layer of batter-no more than 1/4″. Drizzle the remaining olive oil over and sprinkle with rosemary.

Bake in upper third of oven until the top is golden and bubbly. It should take a bout 20 minutes, maybe a little longer. Cut into wedges and season abundantly with freshly ground pepper.

Laura Massoni

When I grew up in Torino, Italy I would dream of other places, better places. My house was located right in front of the first FIAT factory, the Lingotto factory where Mr. Agnelli, Giovanni’s grandfather, built the very first automobile plant in Italy. The view from my balcony was not very appealing and as a matter of fact sometimes, very noisy too. Up until about 8 yrs. old, when the factory shut down to be replaced by the newer one about 2 km. away (thank goodness), I would hear a lot of strikes and chants by those workers that were complaining about almost everything…
So, imagine my desire to leave that area and Torino, dreaming of better places with more greenery without gloomy architecture with gloomy unhappy people and gloomy ME!

This came to pass at the end of high school when I decided to come to San Diego for a year of English immersion school, I decided for this side of the world instead of “England” because…I fell in love with a guy from San Diego, so I took the chance and fled. My story overseas started and still going, I have been here for almost 19 years now and love the light and energy of the days and back then of the nights too. During the first few years in San Diego, during college and my youth, I really didn’t have the desire to go back to Italy except to see my family and feel the coziness of my house and the people there. Besides that, San Diego was my new home. It was only after I started to travel there 3-4 times a year for work that I discovered MY ITALY, the Italy I didn’t know. The Italy that every time I go, leaves me with new emotions, new discoveries and new stories to tell. Every time I land at any of the Italian airports, I feel like kissing the ground, just like Pope John Paul II used to do in all of his trips overseas.

Thanks to all of my recent trips, I have been able to discover Italy under a new prospective, I have seen the city of Torino flourish thanks to the 2006 Olympic Games and I learned how to appreciate other well known cities like Florence, Rome, Milan and Venice. They all have their charm and it is except to us to discover them every time differently.
When I come back to San Diego where my family lives, I am always more energized, I have funny stories to tell, I teach my children the Italian way of life and I tell them that not everywhere things are done the “American Way”. It is ok not to be perfect, it is ok to make mistakes and it is ok to discover new places and old ones. The important thing is to be ready to discover them with a new eye every time and be open minded, to know that not everywhere things are done the San Diegan or American way…this is why other places have a different name.

My trips are awesome even if not always perfect because I expect to have a good time, no matter what. I am thankful to have the great opportunity of traveling a lot and I cherish every single trip. I am so lucky…and I am thankful!

Laura

Francesco Bucci

Suddenly, anticipated only by a crescendo of silence, Grandpa Amedeo materialized from the back door of the kitchen. He came from his stanzino (his little shop in the basement in Montopoli, Tuscany.) He swiftly crossed the kitchen, a quick and quiet appearance in the dining room, totally ignoring every human being different from himself, jumped out of the door, slid away, disappeared… He went to fare una passeggiata. (To take a stroll.) Nobody knows where he goes, but we know for certain that his mind is already miles and miles away, before he leaves the house.

Grandma, with a loving yet skeptical flair: “Non vi preoccupate, tra un po ritorna con qualche pazza idea…” (Do not worry everybody; he’ll be back soon with one of his new crazy ideas…”)

In Italy one is seldom alone. Italians are extremely social and want to share everything with everybody. At times, one seeks some solitude because the human being needs some time with only him- or herself. Wait a minute! I said “solitude.” I didn’t say “loneliness.” “Language has created the word “loneliness” to express the pain and fear of being alone. And it has created the word “solitude” to express the glory of being alone.” (Paul Tillich). Often, one goes for a stroll because of the need to reflect on something. It is a re-creation of oneself. The meaning of taking a stroll and the word solitude and the word creativity are strictly associated. I wouldn’t say that in Italy everyone is an artist, no! But there is a horde of individuals that, on a daily basis, comes up with something new. In comparison with other people, Italians are not buyers, Italians are makers; they have a penchant for making, they just can’t help it. They make a shelf, a new door for the cabinet and they create a new, more comfortable bicycle seat. They make pasta or pizza at home, they make homemade jam, they bake their own Sunday cake, they make their wine, they grow vegetables, they make a new pair of pants, and so forth… All together, they come up with something that, on a daily basis, little by little, widens their spectrum of knowledge. It’s a giant human wave that proceeds forward on the path of knowledge. And, believe it or not, this incessant process has a lot to do with being in the company of just him- or herself. It has a lot to do with walking the path of solitude.

The need for creativity mirrors the Italian economic tapestry. Italy’s economy is underpinned by a plethora of medium-small businesses. Commonly, each business employs just a handful of workers. Single family owned businesses are innumerable. None of those companies makes a huge difference individually. It’s rather the “all things considered” that makes the difference; it’s “the whole [that] is different from the sum of its parts” (Aristotle) that creates the big shift; it is the whole that is bigger than the sum of its addends: A collective action of growth… It’s a collective unconscious that prompts a collective surge of creativity. Meanwhile, everyone walks… walks… walks… The sum of countless steps, mile after mile, determines the far-reaching, global growth… a giant stroll that all the Italians walk on a daily basis.

The apparent sluggishness of one who walks around is quite different than any embodiment of pointless indolence. As a matter of fact “doing nothing” plays a paramount role in the creative process. “Il dolce far niente” is an Italian expression. It means “The sweetness of doing nothing.” Sometimes, yes, Italians do nothing. It’s a sweet pleasure. The pleasure of doing nothing is actually doing something. It’s waiting. Part of the creative process is “waiting,” indeed. Lingering around is a form of constructive persistence, to be confused neither with laziness nor with passivity. It’s an active relaxation, aimed at hearing the answer when the answer flashes up into one’s mind; it’s the alacrity to see whatever can be caught within a sort of immaterial visual field along one’s unconscious paths. It’s the predisposition, the availability to discern new forms. It is… sensibility. It’s not that the creation doesn’t exist before it sees the light. It does; but nobody knows it. The artist doesn’t know it either, but he knows about it. He feels that something is going on. The artist perceives the creation first; then he conceives it. In those moments, the creation is just waiting to be unveiled; it’s just about to be discovered. The artist feels something; but, guess what, he is afraid. That’s why he lets the creation hide behind his fears and doubts. The artist knows that those steps towards a higher level of knowledge are going to alter the status quo. The unknown is sinister and it needs to be approached prudently. Waiting, hesitating are crucial steps in preparing the mood to the move that will determine a substantial change.  In those crucial moments, the artist personifies the relationship between fear and escape from fear.

“I was afraid, now I know; I feel relieved. I got it out! I extracted it from the secrecy of my unconscious,” the artist says. “The unknown… now I know the unknown! Now I get to know the creation that I held in for so long.” It’s the embrace of the artist with the product of his unconscious. It’s like the love that one knew that existed and just needed to be confessed. At this point in time during the genesis of the creation some solitude is condition sine qua non to experience the crucial moments of fragile and vulnerable sensibility. Walking in solitude is a cozy nest for that sensibility… “All truly great thoughts are conceived by walking.” (Friedrich Nietzsche)

By the way, Grandpa is back from his walk. I’m here, in his stanzino. He always goes straight to the stanzino before going anywhere else, before talking to anybody, when he returns home after a walk. He needs to “nail down” the result of his solitude.

I will never forget the afternoon when my grandpa sold his house (and his stanzino) to the neighboring Puccioni family, owner of the adjacent Quattro Gigli Restaurant-Hotel. Grandpa was sick with cancer and he knew he would pass away any moment. He wanted to sell his home only to that family because “If I sell it to the Puccioni’s I will own my home forever, I know that they won’t change anything, they will respect what I have done; my family members can come to see me here, in the restaurant, any time they want.” Today the stanzino is not his shop anymore. Today it is the wine cellar where Luigi and Fulvia Puccioni store thousands of bottles of wine, and it has become part of the restaurant. Yet, every family member and several close friends who saw this room before wouldn’t hesitate to admit that: “This is Amedeo’s workshop.” If you ask Luigi where he keeps the wine, he would say in response “We keep the wine in the stanzino of Amedeo.” Grandpa Amedeo will always be here with his creations: Shelves made of bricks, door handles, metal locks, his desk, his tools, his barrels… Everything, not only is Amedeo’s; indeed, it is Amedeo.

“Where are you going?”

“I am going to Amedeo!”

It’s him, his thoughts; his creativity… The stanzino is the result of his passeggiate and of his solitude. That little, darkish room is him. He harnessed his solitude, here. He explored himself being with himself, here.

I know where I can find you, any time I want to talk to you, grandpa! I just need to come here, have a wonderful dinner, right on the spot where I used to play with my toys and “disturb” you while you were working, when I was a little child: I always wanted to be around you, remember? Tonight, the very same spot is my table, there is candlelight, there are stars, music comes and goes, and there is the night. And I’m here with someone very special, Jenna, talking to her about you; I can still hear your voice, in your creations, while we’re having dinner.  Maybe you were not an artist like Michelangelo or Leonardo da Vinci. But thank God you had many crazy ideas, by virtue of which you are not dead yet, you are still here, with us, to inspire me more and more. Thank you Nonno, for being such a great man. I love you!

Click on this link to see the slide show of the Stanzino, the way it looks today, the way it looked thirty and more years ago. The man in the picture is Luigi with his son. Use the button Prev and Next to see slide show:

http://www.quattrogigli.it/eng/enoteca1.htm

Laura Massoni

The wiser I get the more I want to live in a farm, close to the animals, away from the city but close enough to Italian nonne (grandma’s) that can teach me the true Italian good cooking. By good, I don’t mean elaborate, I just mean, tasty, fresh. I think my state of thinking is also due by the fact that with the years and the large number of children (almost reaching number four), I want to be more in contact with my family and nature OR…I am just getting older and not in need of the party scene anymore.

I like to find the unusual in everything I do, the novita’ (new stuff) in life, the joy of discovering new things and this is why this article intrigued me even more!!! The article below made me realize that good olive oil doesn’t only come from Tuscany, Liguria, Sicily or Umbria. Good olive oil can come from Molise too, a region of Italy that not even the Italians really have the desire to go to, imagine the rest…

There, Francesco Travaglini and his wife, decided to start making olive oil and follow their passion…what is this…oh well, this is another story!

Francesco Travaglini is a young man married to Pia. Both sets of their  parents used to make olive oil, but they, like everybody else in Molise, would sell it for virtually nothing to commercial companies from other regions, who would make their profit by blending it with inferior oil. In fact, while Molise is an agricultural region covered with olive trees, have you ever heard of an olive oil from Molise before? Well, Francesco is very proud of his land; 10 years ago, he decided that enough was enough and he went solo to make his own oil.

With some money from his parents and his in laws, a small grant from the state (best money ever spent by the Italian Republic!), he started the farm. Il Tratturello was born. He called it Il Tratturello because his olive grove borders with a Tratturo, the green highway of the past, where cattle and sheep used to go from the mountains to the sea. Francesco’s sheep still graze through the olive groves with a mutual benefit: the sheep eat the olives leaves and give the land their natural fertilizer in return. Il Tratturello is a spectacular EV Olive Oil, made with local Larino olives.

If you decide to go, let me know, I might go with you so that we can both experience the usual Italy for the unusual traveler.
Laura  619.255.6165

Janie Trayer

I’m a farmers’ market devotee. I’ve been going to the same Saturday market for twenty years. I go to the market even if I really don’t need anything. There’s just something that being surrounded by all that gorgeous produce that I can’t bear to miss.

In Italy the weekly markets are a way of life. Everyone shops there and has their favorite vendors who they are loyal to. The farmers are proud of their wares and are more than willing to tell you how to prepare them. Women can be heard discussing recipes with each other as they make their purchase. Each is convinced that their “way” is the best treatment for that particular vegetable.

I have to say that in my many years of market shopping I’ve rarely heard discussions on how to prepare the vegetables. Every once in a while someone may ask me what I plan to do with my purchase. There is however, one exception. There’s a little stand run by an older, married couple. She’s American, he’s Sicilian. Their vegetables are set up on a few card tables and usually they only have a few different things for sale. It’s what they do sell that makes me coming back week after week. With each season they offer vegetables that no one else has. A few weeks ago they had the first fava beans of the season. I was happily surprised by cardoons on another recent trip. I remember fresh garbanzos still on their stalk.

This is where there’s always a little conversation and advice offered up with my purchase. They ask what my plans are and then tell me what they like to do. Having never prepared cardoons, they were more than happy to give me a little tutorial. This week as I was making room in my bag for their gorgeous fennel they asked if I even made tea with the feathery fronds. I replied no and then the wife said to me “I hang out with a bunch of Sicilian women and they make pesto with them.” All of a sudden I was enthralled and wondered why I had never thought of that myself!

Pesto with Fennel Fronds

• Fronds from 5 fennel bulbs
• 2 cloves of garlic
• 1/4 cup toasted pine nuts
• 1/4 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
• Extra-virgin olive oil

Clean the fronds and separate leaves from large stems. Process garlic in food processor and then add pine nuts and pulse. Add fennel fronds and pulse until pureed. Add cheese. With machine running add olive oil until a paste forms. Store in a jar topped with a little olive oil. Store in fridge or freezer.

I’ll let you know how this is when I toss it with pasta tomorrow night. I thought it might be nice to serve some grilled sausages on the side. Besides using as a topping for pasta I think this would be great stuffed into a pork roast or slather under the skin when roasting a chicken.

Nutella is the name of a hazelnut flavored, sweet spread that was registered by the Italian company Ferrero in 1963. Nowadays, Nutella is sold in over 75 countries.

The recipe took the cue from an earlier Ferrero spread released in 1949, called Gianduja. Gianduja was a mixture containing approximately 50% almond (or hazelnut) paste and 50% chocolate. It was developed in Piedmont, Italy, after taxes on cocoa beans hindered the diffusion of conventional chocolate. At the time, there was very little chocolate because cocoa was in short supply due to rationing during World War II. So, in order to make the pleasure of eating chocolate more affordable, Mr. Ferrero mixed hazelnuts, which are copious in the Piedmont region of Italy, mixed with chocolate. Pietro Ferrero, who owned a patisserie (pastry shop) in Alba (Piedmont) sold an initial batch of 300 kilograms (660 lb) of “Pasta Gianduja” in 1946 (by the way, “gianduja” is the name of a carnival character famous to the region, a character that can be found in the first advertisements for the product.)

Pasta gianduja was actually made in loaves, so it could be sliced and placed on bread for mothers to make sandwiches for their children. But many children, as you can imagine, would throw away the bread and eat only the tastier gianduja. Thus, in 1951 Mr. Ferrero altered the product into a paste that came in a jar, so it could be spread on the bread. This then became known as “Supercrema gianduja.” This new “spreadable” creation was eventually renamed “Nutella” in 1964, with the origin of the word being “nut” and the “ella” giving it a soft ending.

It was April the 20^th 1964 when the first jar of Nutella left the factory. The product was an instant success and Nutella is still widely popular. From the start, Nutella was welcome on the market, since it was a more convenient way for the kids, adults and grandparents to enjoy something that tasted so freaking good… A kilo of chocolate at the time was 6 times the cost of a kilo of Nutella. The product became so popular that Italian food stores started a service called “The Smearing,” where children could go to their local food store with a slice of bread for a “smear of Nutella.”

Since European families and visitors have enjoyed Nutella as a breakfast staple on bread and toast for more than 40 years, the Ferrero Company wanted to introduce this traditional Italian breakfast item to the U.S. market in order to share the enjoyment of such a unique, convenient and tasty product.  Nutella was first imported from Italy to the U.S. over 25 years ago in the year 1983. The popularity of Nutella has grown steadily over the years and it is now available across the United States.

The estimated Italian production of Nutella averages 179,000 tons per year.

Composition:

Nutella is a modified form of gianduja. The exact recipe is secretly protected within the Ferrero family. According to the product label, the main ingredients of Nutella are sugar, hazelnut, cocoa solids and skim milk. Nutella has no artificial colors or preservatives.

When used in moderation and with complementary foods, Nutella can be part of a balanced breakfast.  It can be a quick and easy way to encourage kids to eat whole grains, such as whole wheat toast, toaster waffles and bagels.  With the unique taste of Nutella, kids may think they are eating a treat for breakfast while moms are helping to nourish their children with whole grains!

Pietro’s son, Michele Ferrero is now an 82 years old man who lives in Monaco with his family.

As we know, Nutella was born because the end of World War II witnessed the decline of the chocolate business. Most likely, at that time, Mr. Ferrero had no idea that, because of that unfortunate circumstance, in the year 2010, his sun would become the wealthiest man in Italy, earning $9.5 billion in one year.

Non tutti i mali vengono per nuocere! (Every cloud has a silver lining!)

Janie Trayer

Ravioli are probably my favorite form of pasta. I suppose it has a lot to do with the memories of my grandmother’s ravioli that I grew up with. Those were very traditional of the area where she grew up (Campania) filled with creamy ricotta cheese and topped with tomato sauce. I have carried on the tradition of making fresh pasta and stuffing ravioli and it’s not as hard as you think. There is however a way to have great tasting and incredibly tender ravioli with a minimum of effort-wonton wrappers!

Just because they have an Asian sounding name doesn’t mean that these wonton wrappers can’t be used for other cuisines. They are super easy to work with and I do use them for my favorite Chinese dumplings, but I’ve also made delicious Italian style ravioli too. Found in the refrigerated section of the grocery store, these wrappers come in both round and square shapes. All you have to do is take one, put the filling of your choice in the center, moisten the edges with a little water, place another wrapper on top and press down to seal.

Spring is definitely in the air and you can find fresh English peas at your local farmers’ market. You may be able to purchase them already shelled, but you really should buy them in their pods and shell them yourself for the best flavor. I knew that they would make a delicious filling for this easy stuffed pasta dish and the ravioli were the perfect quick dinner along with a salad. I can see making them as a first course for a dinner party, maybe followed by a roast of some sort. You’ll definitely wow your guests with these on your menu.

Pea and Parmigiano “Wonton” Ravioli

• 2-2/3 cups fresh peas (or you could use frozen)
• 1/3 cup grated Parmigiano-Reggiano, plus additional for serving
• 2 teaspoons chopped fresh mint
• About 64 dumpling or wonton wrappers
• 3/4 stick unsalted butter, melted

Cook peas in boiling salted water until just tender, about 3-4 minutes. Drain and cool, then puree in a food processor. Stir in cheese, mint and 1/2 teaspoon each salt and pepper.

Put a rounded teaspoon filling in the center of a wrapper. Lightly brush the edge of the wrapper with water and then place a second wrapper on top and seal, pressing out any trapped air. Repeat with remaining wrappers and filling, keeping ravioli covered as you work (I like to place ravioli on a lightly floured baking sheet until I’m ready to cook them).

Boil ravioli in a few batches in a pasta pot of salted boiling water, until tender, about 2-3 minutes per batch. Remove with a slotted spoon. Drizzle with melted butter and sprinkle with cheese and freshly grated pepper.
Serves: 4
I used a little more filling in mine and made fewer. They are so light and fresh tasting-the mint adds just the right touch. I think I might try them next time with fava beans instead.