How to Move an “Abandoned Pasta House”

Step 1: Have someone in charge, like Fiore, owner of the “Abandoned Pasta House”.

Step 2: Get a crane

Step 3: Move “Abandoned Pasta House” to new location. Then, stand proud on top of “Abandoned Pasta House” to celebrate a job well done.

Step 4: Get down from “Abandoned Pasta House”

Step 5: Stand in awe.

Meat, and lots of it – with your Antipasto

I know meat is killing our environment. But if you’re like me – someone who enjoys meat – sometimes it’s hard to say no to a meat-heavy antipasto, consisting of coldcuts, cheese, and flattented grilled sausage on fresh bread rubbed with garlic.

This is a typical antipasto of Abruzzo, Italy – the central eastern side of Italy.  While it may not be good for the environment and probably not the best for you either – as this antipasto is loaded in saturated fats – I’d say it’s ok to indulge once in a while.  But if you need a better excuse, this meat is all local – grown within the confines of the zone of Pescara, Italy.

Food for Thought: Agrarianism Unveiled and its Tie to the Roman Empire: Wendell Berry is the Modern Day Virgil

History repeats itself.  Virgil, the first century B.C.E Roman pastoral poet, is known for his Eclogues, the Georgics, and the Aeneid.  While for some time the interpretation and analysis of Virgil’s works have been the earnest devotion of many literary scholars, there’s a strong consensus that in Virgil’s Georgics, a sentiment is conveyed regarding his fear of the rise of the Roman Empire.  Wendell Berry expresses analogous sentiments about the Industrial Revolution and the rise of the agricultural practices in the modern epoch.

Virgil’s Georgics, a pastoral, four-book poem is rooted in both agriculture (the word georgic in English is even an adjective for agriculture) and the work of beekeeping.  However, the Georgics are much more than a didactic set of poems discussing how one should farm in the early phase of the Roman Empire.  In these four books, Virgil expresses his fear of the rising Roman Empire, and he uses his explicit agricultural teachings as a means to speak for the peasant.  More importantly, while he understands the importance agriculture necessitates for a functioning and healthy society, in many cases, Virgil’s words voice a destructive and violent tone towards the practice of farming.

A possible reason for Virgil’s hesitance, circa 40 B.C.E, towards agriculture is no coincidence.  The Romans were ruthless when it came to farming and rural planning. Using the Romans as a case study – in order to examine our own modern day food systems – it’s clear that the Roman farming system serves as a viable archetype – if not the archetype – for how we get our food on our plates today. We’re the new Romans.

As Virgil manifested his fear of the rising Roman Empire into his epic poem the Georgics, so does Wendell Berry in his poetry works and essays.  Wendell Berry is the modern epoch’s Virgil.  However, the question which needs the most answering regards the obviation; rather, the ability of our new American/Euro/Asian Empires to learn from the past mistakes – i.e., the Roman Empire.  More so, can we even live how Wendell Berry suggests?  His philosophy/practice/religion/way of life he calls “agrariansim” merits ample consideration by today’s society.  How local can we get?

I think we can become a lot more localized in our means of agricultural production, distribution, and sales; however, I have some concerns.  While the WTO needs extensive restructuring, if not eradication, and the demands – mostly re-evaluating the SAP practices and intents – that world lending institutions require from their debtors also needs a significant face-lift, what happens in the short run? When we do restructure agricultural policy, for the better, what will happen – initial shock? Recession? Along these lines, what will the initial effects be when we phase out the powers of the oligopolies?  If we break down Monsanto, what ripple effects on the economy will this toll – say, initially?

With both Virgil and Wendell fearing the rise of the empire, we know what happens in Virgil’s case. However, while the Roman Empire fell, our empire hasn’t yet. And regardless of whose fell and whose didn’t, the two poets agree and share foresight in one fundamental way:  They both are nostalgic for “agrarianism.” Both speak of a solution, as read in Virgil’s Georgics and in a variety of Wendell’s works, that calls for a rustic and “conscious” return to agriculture.

What we must learn, then, in this modern version of the Roman Empire, is to marry civitas with a new form a citizenship: one that takes into consideration not just Virgil’s and Wendell’s idea of the local, but the regional, national, and international conscious of all, in the framework of agricultural policy.

Autumn Soup

On a frigid and rainy autumn day, there’s nothing better than a soup and a slice of Pecorino – sheep – cheese.  Be creative, though, and add in what you desire.

I threw in some navy beans, celery, chicken broth, some tomato sauce, and spices.  Chilli pepper is my favorite.  If it’s dinner, don’t be shy about a little red Montepulciano wine or beer – Tyskie’s Polish lager is my preferred choice (imported by Miller in the States) to end the day.

Just remember that this is essentially la cucina povera or peasant cuisine of Italy of the middle ages and even a few decades ago, and we still consume it today.  While we just call it soup, I like to call it la zuppa pastore or the shepherd’s soup, for it’s what I ate with a shepherd one afternoon in the southern Italian region of Molise.

Leftovers

 On a sunny Sunday afternoon somewhere in New York state, leftovers are aggregated onto the table and consumed. 

Leftovers serve as food that is ready, willing and able – on deck – for immediate pleasure.  How fast can you set your table?

Leftovers symbolize the weekend’s assortment of fun, work - in the form of cooking, of course - and relaxation.  Friday’s grilled zucchini,  Saturday morning’s melon, Saturday evening’s cucumber, mozzarella and tomato salad and every other foodstuff not eaten awaits its fate in the refridgerator.  Sunday afternoon marks the occasion for the weekend leftover meal.  The best part, it feels like a free one.

If you don’t have any cultural or religious taboo against leftovers, then what’s stopping you?  Leftovers can be used intelligently and creatively; some may assert food even tastes better the second day - Nana’s spaghetti?  Has your bread hardened? Toast it.  Did your pesto-pasta dry up a bit? Add a little water, heat it up and add some extra virgin olive oil.  Hung over? Drink a glass of water, go back to bed and look forward to the combo of dishes with which you can delight yourself upon your afternoon awakening. 

With leftovers, your weekend’s worth of play and culinary effort whirls into a lazy afternoon delight in minutes - just as the higher powers intended for Sunday.

The Irresistable Attraction of Excess

The desire of want – when it comes to food – is no new phenomenon; it’s called hunger.

Achieving satiety, that nice feeling of food in the belly, has been the most occupying hardship presented to humans.  That is, until the twentieth century in the West.  From the tractor and beyond, we conquered  hunger for a lot of us – literally more than one can stomach.

So, how are we handling the abundance of food?

For us humans or the Homo sapien species, we’re the only hominids who have ever achieved a constant supply of food.  We’ve overcome the fear of hunger, and our accomplishment should certainly be celebrated – but not too much.  While we’ve overcome the hardships of food production via agriculture and technology, we’ve simultaneously entered into a new age of food in the West:  the abundance of food.  We’re slowly killing ourselves.  We make too much food, we eat too much food, and we waste too much food.  Such circumstances leave one wondering what’s better:  The fear of hunger or the attraction and celebration of excess?

While we’ve secured our reign as a species here on Earth, via stable food systems, we’re still far from achieving balance with nature.

When you think about it, our relationship with food – in terms of production, consumption, and the sort – has only slightly ameliorated compared to  thousands of years ago.  While some may say not at all, our relationship with food has certainly reversed – to the other side of the spectrum.  Instead of ailing from hunger, we’re dying from obesity.

To understand this concept more broadly, we must go way back in the past.   For millions of years, hominids – from the subspecies Australopithecus, about 3 million years ago,  to the Neanderthals, and then to us,  homo sapiens – have been doing all they can to avoid starvation: hunting, enacting mobile tribes to follow migratory prey, practicing agriculture, preserving foods, technology, etc.  Many were defeated by hunger. Any way you look at it, perspective sheds light on one certainty: the fear of hunger has embedded itself consciously and subconsciously in us.  And now that we’ve overcome starvation, the fear of it is still with us.  In fact, fear is a driving force which makes us bite off more than we can chew.

It wasn’t until the twentieth century that humans began to significantly conquer the barricades of hunger:  food abundance is a victory for human kind.  On one hand, it means that we humans are no longer slaves to food and the seasons, but on the other, it means that our irresistible attraction to excess is realizable. We can make as much food as we desire.

Our attraction to the excess of food should be interpreted as normal. Why not – you know?  We’ve been hungry for a very long time. Our ability to produce an abundance of food is a celebration of ingenuity and a security for our species.    And regarding this notion, we finally possess the skill-set to outmatch the hardships of nature and the brutality of the seasons – especially winter.   We can eat fresh fruit on the coldest February day and as much ice cream as we want to in summer.  But what happens when we fall victim to the attraction of excess?

We get fat.  Food becomes something it isn’t: processed, refined, a stuff.  The list can continue because a lot more bad happens.

The only good thing about an abundance of food, as suggested by the Italian food historian Massimo Montanari, is this:  The journey to restore balance in our food systems can now occur with a little more bliss than in the past. Why?  Our stomachs are full.

Italian College Cafeterias

Don’t you remember that cafeteria smell from your college days? My college food wasn’t half-bad. My university did a heck of a job serving thousands of young-adults 7 days a week. Nonetheless, if I had to grade my American cafeteria food experience – in college – I really think it could have been better. And by better, I mean less sugary, less greasy, and less ranch dressing-y.

Italian school cafeterias – at least the ones I’ve seen – are amazing. But I have to be honest, I’ve only seen one: The University of Bologna cafeteria.

The University of Bologna cafeteria really impressed me with their oven. They bake nearly all of their main entrès – fish and meat. While Italians love their meat, the cafeteria does a superb job answering to the demand in a healthy fashion. Point being, the main courses involve no greasy-fatty frying preparations; the aroma is inviting even from the street.

As for veggies, the Italians matched quite well against their American adversary. How did you like your veggies prepared in college? The macaroons have their particular way of preparing vegetables: boiled, sautèd in olive oil, or baked. Whatever the preparation method, it was exciting to see a large amount of variety incorporated into the weekly menu.

In college, my cafeteria always steamed or baked the veggies;  however, the choices were quite mundane and habitual.  I just remember being offered either carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, and mashed potatoes.

In Bologna, the choices any given day for vegetables were 3. For example, one day they offered broccoli mixed with bell peppers, spinach, and brussels sprouts; or another day, they had endives, spinach with legumes, and artichokes. And don’t forget the pasta. Pasta is a great way to mix a healthy vegetable in with a carb. The cafeteria always has 2 pasta dishes; and now, they are introducing couscous mixed with veggies.

If i have to admit, potatoes with rosemary and olive oil is my favorite.

The salad bar – it doesn’t exist in Italy. Salads are prepared in ceramic bowls and the students just add olive oil and salt.

Regarding Italian bread, I was disappointed to not see whole grain or multi-cereal grains. While Italian breads are simplistic – flour, yeast, salt, water – these breads are, nonetheless, white and unhealthy. But even if they do eat bread, I’ve noticed it’s not a lot, and if they eat pasta, then most don’t eat any bread at all.

Soda, juice, or water? How about beer! With beer as a choice beverage, the collegiate American cafeterias could learn a thing or two from the Italians. In all seriousness, you may have noticed the selection of soda/pop in the photo below.  Soda – non diet soda - has certainly made it’s way into Italy. Despite this fact, Italians – I’d argue – consume these carbonated-sugary beverages in moderation.  All they’ll have of it is one at lunch – if they decide to drink soda at all.  The rest stick to water.

In the University of Bologna cafeteria, there isn’t a bad food choice. There isn’t even dessert – I’m not exactly sure why. Evermore important, the Italians don’t fret. Instead, they stick to tradition and eat what they do after a main course: fruit. This week in the cafeteria, it’s half of a pineapple.

It must be the pineapple that makes them all so thin.

Ciro and Vito

A busy day for Ciro and Vito, they still managed to pull a quality dinner together.  They usually do.

Tonight’s entree was turkey and cauliflower.  Both foods were additionally topped with a light sauce – alla whipped as Ciro said in Italian – consisting of olive oil, lemon, salt, and pepper.  Don’t forget their daily glasses of wine – a Syrah from Sicily or a Primitivo Rosso from Puglia – as well as their fruit at the end of the meal.

Despite their engaged, active lives, Ciro and Vito make it a prerogative eating together every evening – usually around 9pm.  Vito, 47, works for FIAT and puts in long days.  He’s usually in the office by 8am and arrives home no earlier than 8pm. In these months, Vito is also working either Saturday or Sunday given the economic crisis at hand.  FIAT has a lot on its plate right now.

Meanwhile, Ciro, 44, is a director for a company which distributes meals/lunches to both the private and public sectors of the Emilia Romagna region.   His largest client is the public school system of Emilia Romagna.  His company helps decide what these kids eat, prepares it, and delivers the meals. Point being, both of these guys are successful and busy.  Nonetheless, home-cookin’ is a priority they both live by.

On this particular Monday, Ciro’s day was long and fatiguing, so he didn’t feel like cooking.  When this happens, he doesn’t fret.  Ciro just  makes a quick stop at the market – on his way home from work – to grab a vegetable.  Once at home, he grabs from the freezer his backup food supply – frozen foods he keeps for days like these.  Today, turkey did the trick .

As for kitchen-time on exhausting days, the only tasks involved are  defrosting, sautéing, boiling, and whipping.  Ciro was in the kitchen for thirty minutes for this meal. First, the turkey went into the microwave to defrost a bit. Next, the turkey went into the sauté pan, and he added a  little olive oil and some oregano. It finished cooking after 5 minutes.  Before any of this, the water was being heated.  Once boiling, the cauliflower went in, Ciro added salt, and after 10 minutes, it was ready.  Last, the whipping, it took seconds – voila’.

By the time the sun sets, dinner is ready in their skyrise condo, outside citycenter in Bologna. 

“Tutti a tavola” – all to the table, Ciro says.  In this case, it means just Vito.

Lucky guy.

Artichokes in Season

Artichokes are in season.  Either raw, steamed, boiled, or sauted, eat ‘em while you can.

If raw, be ready to chew, but your liver will benefit the most. Cynarin, a compound found in the leaves, is known to benefit the liver and increase bile flow in the body. This is a good thing.

Black Sea Bass

For Black Sea Bass, just bake and serve.

Add to your liking the following ingredients: cherry tomatoes, chopped garlic, parsley, salt, pepper, squeezed lemon juice, and olive oil.

Just make sure you clean the guts – either have the vendor do it, or do it at home.  There’s no need to de-scale or cut a fillet. After baking, the skin will slide off quite easily.

When pressed for time, but want a healthy or elegant dinner – go fish.