Tag Archives: mamma

My mother’s cookbook

When my mother Livia came to Australia in 1950, she was 22 and recently married. She and my father came here on a sponsored migration program, together with thousands of other migrants in search of a better life, having survived the difficulties of living in the northeast corner of Italy in the aftermath of World War 2.

She and my father arrived at Station Pier in Port Melbourne and were quickly whisked away to the migrant camp in Bonegilla. One of her strongest memories of the start of her new life in Australia was the food – it was simply terrible! Dripping was used for cooking, you purchased olive oil at a chemist shop (for medicinal purposes of course!), coffee was a syrup that you diluted and wine was called “plonk” and clearly just for those with drinking problems! They found comfort in spending time with Italian friends – some met in Italy or on the journey to Melbourne and others met here in Australia. They got together often to celebrate their new found home.

Mamma needed a cookbook to help her to develop her cooking skills. She was not yet comfortable reading English and probably could not find a cookbook written in Italian in Melbourne in 1950. So when her brother, Fidenzio migrated to Australia in 1952, she asked him to bring her a cookbook. The book he brought with him on the ship, published in 1948 is called Il tesoretto della cucina Italiana – literally meaning “the little treasure of Italian cooking”. She still has this much loved and much worn book.

The book has about 600 pages and has 1,700 recipes which are “practical, cost-effective and tasty for family cooking”. Mamma let me borrow her treasured cookbook today and I could not wait to leaf through it.

There are recipes for almost everything in dedicated chapters – condiments, sauces, antipasti, soups, fried foods, eggs etc. There are sections on how to roll a polpettone, how to make puff pastry with diagrams; 60 pages of fish recipes including 14 recipes with baccala’, 14 rabbit recipes and 17 pages on how to use kitchen left-overs – it is an incredible compendium of italian cooking.

My mother says that this book taught her how to cook and gave her the knowledge to make her the cook she is today. I look forward to sharing some of these fantastic recipes on my blog over the coming months (probably years!).

Livia’s apple strudel

Apple strudel doesn’t sound very Italian – or so you might think. The funny thing about Europe is that countries that are close to the borders of other countries take on the cuisine of their neighbours. They share the same climate therefore grow similar produce. My father was born in Istria, now in Croatia and my mother was born in Veneto. Both regions formed part of the Austro-Hungarian empire at one stage so it makes sense that some things that we think of as Austrian might also be found further south in Italy. Not only does mamma make sauerkraut with Speck and iota (which is a type of bean soup) but she makes a divine apple strudel.

The pastry of mamma’s strudel is made with olive oil and so can be stretched to be so thin that you can almost see through it. I had searched the internet some time back for a recipe and the only one that I found that was remotely close to hers was Croatian. It fascinates me how something that I thought was Austrian, made by my Italian mother is similar to a Croatian recipe online! Mamma’s strudel is filled with grated fresh apples, sultanas soaked in grappa, pine nuts, lemon zest and cocoa powder and then rolled up to form a narrow roll that is shaped like a giant horse shoe prior to baking.

Mamma always makes two strudels – one to give to friends/family and one to keep at home. Strudels were made when there was a celebration. After my parents retired, my father used to help my mother make strudel by peeling and coring the apples (14 large ones for the two strudels) while she grated them. Last weekend mamma wanted to make apple strudel for a big family lunch we were having at my sister’s house. It was a lunch in celebration of what would have been my father’s 91st birthday. Regular readers will know he passed away a few months ago. He loved apple strudel so it was only fitting that she make it for his birthday.

On the weekend I went to her place to help her make strudel and write down the recipe (which was all in her head!). Taking the place of my father, I cored and peeled the apples while she grated. We listened to music and drank coffee while we worked away. I watched her make strudel and she let me make the second one under her watchful eye. She gave me lots of tips when stretching the pastry with a rolling pin, scattering the filling and then rolling up the strudel with the help of a tea towel. The rolling was not the tricky part, it was getting the completed strudel on the tray without breaking it! She managed to do it easily – she has made strudel so many dozens of times. She wouldn’t let me do it either – she said my hands weren’t big enough. Before going into the oven, she brushed the strudel with beaten egg yolk to make it shiny once it is cooked.

So here is the recipe – written down for the first time, with years of love poured into it. It is lovely served with a dollop of cream on the side and a cup of coffee, or you could have it as we did with a glass of sweet and sticky Sicilian wine.

Livia’s apple strudel
makes 2 strudels
Pastry:
500g plain flour
1 egg, separated
1/2 cup of olive oil
3/4 cup water
2 tsp caster sugar
Filling:
14 large Granny Smith apples, peeled and roughly grated
4 tblsp sugar
4 tblsp pine nuts
2 tblsp cocoa powder
Rind of 2 medium sized lemons
8 tblsp sultanas (presoaked in grappa or brandy)
6 tblsp bread crumbs
100g butter, melted

To make the pastry – place 300g flour and the sugar in a bowl. Make a well in the centre and add the egg white, the water and the olive oil. Stir with a wooden spoon until well combined. Place a quarter of the remaining flour on the bench and empty the pastry onto the flour on your working surface. Knead until that flour is incorporated and continue kneading for about 5 minutes. Add a bit more flour if too sticky. Wrap in plastic wrap and allow it to rest for 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 180 degrees and line two large trays with baking paper. Peel, core and grate the apples into two large bowls (half in each). Melt the butter on low heat in a small saucepan. Add the bread crumbs, stir and remove from the heat. Place to the side. By now 30 minutes should have passed and it is time to roll out the pastry.

Generously flour your working surface and remove half the pastry from the plastic wrap. Knead, incorporating half of the remaining flour. Start rolling the pastry with a rolling pin, flipping the pastry over every minute or so as you stretch it out. Keep rolling, stretching, turning it over until it is about 50 cm by 40 cm. Place a large clean tea towel under the pastry before placing the filling.

Squeeze and drain the grated apples (drink the lovely apple juice that is left behind) and lay them on the pastry, leaving them clear of the edges by about 4cm, and leaving about 10cm clear at what will be the top of the horse shoe shaped strudel. Scatter half the remaining dry ingredients evenly over the apples (sultanas, pine nuts, sugar, cocoa, lemon zest and bread crumbs that have been combined with butter).

Use the tea towel to help you roll the strudel into a long sausage. Fold down the two ends of the sausage are carefully lift onto the prepared baking tray and make into a horse shoe shape. Repeat process for the second strudel. Brush the top of both wth beaten egg yolk.

Bake for 15 minutes at 180 degrees then lower the temperature to 170 and bake for a further 55 minutes. Swap the trays around half way through cooking so they bake evenly. About 15 minutes before they are ready check that the strudels are not browning too much. Reduce to 160 degrees if necessary. They should be a deep golden colour when ready. They keep for five or so days covered in the fridge and can be eaten hot or room temperature. Halve all the ingredients if you want to make just one strudel.

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My love affair with cheese – part 2 – ricotta gnocchi

Have you seen “Two Greedy Italians”on tv? I saw it on YouTube last year and now I am so happy that it is showing on SBS in Australia. I love the fact there are two old fellows arguing, laughing, cooking and eating their way through Italy. They speak English most of the time (Gennaro Contaldo with a kind of peculiar East London accent) and Italian sometimes. I wanted my mother to watch it as she loves cooking shows and I thought she would enjoy their humour. She watched it this week and today when I went to see her for lunch she said “I met Antonio the older one about ten years ago”. I almost fell off my chair – she had met one greedy italian! She had never told me about this before. I asked her to tell me the story…

She says she was walking down the street in Melbourne at a World’s Longest Lunch event with my father. Antonio Carluccio was walking past and stopped when he heard them speaking Italian. So they stopped to talk to the white haired chef. He introduced himself and they had a bit of a chat about being Italian in Australia and cooking. He struck my mother as quite the gentleman. She had never heard of him before that and…. now here he was on her tv screen.

On the first episode of the series, Gennaro had made some beautiful ricotta dumplings that his mother used to make. They were a bit like potato gnocchi but a whole lot simpler. Mamma had never seen them made quite like that and was keen to try them. So in honor of my mother’s brush with Italo-English cooking fame and one greedy Italian, I made the ricotta gnocchi (or dumplings).

Making ricotta gnocchi

I can’t resist anything with ricotta in it – fresh, creamy ricotta that you buy from a delicatessen where they have just cut a fresh piece. It melts in your mouth. On the show, Gennaro mixes the ingredients by hand – ricotta, egg yolks and then finally adds the flour. I love the fact that they are almost like potato gnocchi – but without needing to cook potatoes. All you need to do is get the ricotta out of the fridge. I varied the ratio of flour to ricotta (more ricotta, less flour) and made a softer version. I served the gnocchi with a tomato and basil sauce, with lots of garlic and a hint of chilli. Fantastic (and oh so easy).

Ricotta gnocchi*
serves 2
220g ricotta
3 egg yolks
pinch salt
pinch nutmeg
190g flour
Mix the first 4 ingredients in a bowl with a wooden spoon (or your hands). Add the flour and fold it into the mixture until a dough forms. Roll into a log, cut off sections and cut into bite size pieces.

Boil a large pot of water. Add the gnocchi to the boiling water. Cook for 8 to 10 minutes (taste them to make sure you are happy with the consistency when they are cooked; cook a bit longer if they are too chewy). Remove with a slotted spoon. Serve with your favourite pasta sauce and sprinkle lots of parmigiano.

Buon appetito!

* recipe from Gennaro Contaldo

Mamma Livia’s pasta making machine

Italians are very good at making things. Think of the Pantheon, the Mona Lisa, anything by Dolce and Gabbana, the Cinque Terre and the Vespa. When I think of how good they are at making things that are timeless and look beautiful, I think of my mother’s Imperia pasta making machine. It belongs to mamma but I have it on permanent loan. It comes in a funky box from the 1970s and it is shiny silver and very heavy (and it is model SP150 if you are interested).

The best thing about this pasta making machine is that it works perfectly after 40 or so years of use. And it looks brand new. All that has ever been used to clean it is a black bristle paint brush used only for that purpose. It brushes away the flour and keeps the machine in perfect working order.It has a detachable wooden handle used to make the rollers go round.

Over the years it has made lasagna sheets, thin tagliatelle, thicker fettuccine in all sorts of flavours and colours and with different types of flour – green pasta with stinging nettles, chocolate pasta and my favourite in the colder months, pasta made with chestnut flour. It has also rolled out crostoli. It has seen us through good times, when we celebrated birthdays with friends and bad times, such as when my father passed away. It is part of my heritage and an integral part of me.

I LOVE my (or should I say, mamma Livia’s) pasta making machine. I know I will use it for years to come and one day I will hand it on to my daughter – though she will call it nonna Livia’s pasta making machine.