Fallo da Solo

(do it yourself)

During this coronavirus lockdown - and especially as I see American friends' exclamations about cooking frustrations after a few weeks in isolation - I've thought about how much energy I have devoted to DIY food creations.
Reasons for DIY can range from necessity to pure volition.  I don't have X and I can't buy it, so I have to make it. Or I really like the idea of making something 'from scratch.' Additionally, it is possible that out of health concerns, doing it yourself is the better option.
I can easily embrace any and all of those reasons.
You may find yourselves embracing any and all of those reasons too, because of limited availability (I do hope that the stores are being restocked, because your lockdown is going to be much smoother if you know that you can relax about essential supplies) of ingredients, imposed limitations on your physical movement might prompt you to make more healthy choices, and if you have time on your hands and ingredients that you've never tried to work with before, why not research some recipes, invite family members (or whoever you're locked down with) to help and make something interesting?

I'm going to start with granola. I've been told that people who don't make their own are just crazy. Pre-made granola CAN be crazy expensive. But in Italy, any and almost all granola contains one ingredient that I really, really don't like:  raisins. In a country full of grapes, it makes sense that raisins would be a thing.  But they are not my thing. For awhile, I would mule home a number of brands and types of granola after visiting other countries (because northern European countries, Great Britain, Germany...heck, just about anyone else...sell granola varieties which have no raisins.) But this is not sustainable when you don't go to any of those places regularly.  And the United States has these things too, but a) they're not cheap at all, and b) they contain a lot of hidden sugar.
So, I finally broke down and said to myself, 'Self (have you watched Derry Girls? you'll get that citation if you have), why don't you just MAKE IT?'
Plenty of websites feature recipes that are all essentially the same (but it helps to refer to one so you have an idea about proportions)
Oats. Nuts (any and all, plus coconut). Seeds (sesame, poppy, sunflower, flax - they can come separately or in a mix, here). Dried fruit. Some sweet syrup, like maple, or Karo, or even sugar-free pseudo maple (I'm contemplating using some of the surplus fresh ginger I have to make a ginger simple syrup, especially if I run out of other syrups).  Coconut oil or some other kind of vegetable oil. A little cinnamon, powdered ginger, vanilla, and a dash of salt. Set fruit aside.  Combine the rest. Bake. Toss.  Bake a little more. Cool.  Toss in the dried fruit (because I don't hate all dried fruit.  I just don't like raisins). Store. Scoop over plain Greek yogurt and cut apple (my preference, but you do you, babe). Be happy.
Healthy breakfast, anyone?
It takes awhile to accumulate all of the ingredients I like in my granola.  Because of where I live, I have had to map out where I can get dried cranberries, sunflower seeds, coconut and so forth. I cannot accomplish this ingredient list with one-stop shopping.  I will instead strategically sketch out an itinerary for a shopping day that includes those purveyors, because I've found that this granola making practice is economically and healthfully worth it.

I have written about my sourdough starter before, here.  Maria is still with me, taking up space in the top shelf of my fridge.  I feed her when I remember to feed her, or if I plan to bake on a specific day, because the dough rises far better if the starter has been fed somewhat recently. 

Here is latent Maria, after several days without 'food.'

And here she is after having a 'meal.' Bubbly and happy.

Italy is a country of breads. Given its rather large celiac population, it is also good at creating alternative breads (and pastas) without gluten. 

I don't need to make bread, here. 

But I love baking. I love that I have 25+ year old starter gifted by my Italian teacher. I have passed a bit along to one of the The Spouse's co-workers, who is happily baking his own bread now too.

I also have this compulsion that must come from my artist's soul, which is to see, experimentally speaking, whether I can actually make some specific thing. Combine that with an active search engine for recipes, and look out. 

This has led to mostly successful productions.

Ciabatta (Italian for 'slipper') is a popular Italian bread for sandwiches. It is a sloppy, difficult-to-manipulate dough.  I've never made a pretty ciabatta. 

I enjoy using Emilie Raffa's book on sourdough baking, but I have also used King Arthur Flour's website for other recipes as well. Below is Raffa's Whole Grain bread.  It did not rise the way I wanted it to, but Maria the Starter was enthusiastic enough to still produce a good crumb with moderate holes throughout.  The flavor is excellent. 

Some studies have recently asserted that whole grain bread is not necessarily a healthier choice over white breads (gasp! I know - right? WHAT?), but flavor has to count for something. And some allege that sourdough is better for gut health.  

So here was today's lunch: tuna salad on whole grain sourdough. 

(I made the hummus, too)

And for the record, during that last rise phase before baking a sandwich loaf, grease the plastic wrap before placing it gently on top.  Or else you'll get this unfortunate (still tasty, but not picture-perfect) outcome: 

Here is a better turnout. 

Both because I wanted to see if I could make them AND because traditional bagels are not a thing here (oh, sure, some places will say that they make bagels, but they don't taste like, or have the texture of, actual bagels.  They taste like round bread with a hole in the center). 

This is popular with The Spouse, so it has been done several times. Smoked salmon, cream cheese, chives...hello brunch.

Fancy round bread loaves (again- sourdough!) made decorative by strategic slices through the dough's top layer before baking? Why not? 

Lockdown (yep, this is sourdough too!) focaccia, baked with whole garlic cloves (just peel back the papery skin and squish out the sweet, roasted goodness right onto the bread), rosemary, flaky sea salt and pitted olives. 

Use a serrated knife to cut horizontally through the middle, and you've got some mighty fine sandwich bread. 

Pull-apart rolls? Oh yes, sourdough! 

YES - sourdough pancakes. I thought it was crazy too.  It isn't!

(and has everybody already done breakfast for dinner while in isolation? for some of us, it brings back memories of doing that as kids, once in a blue moon. It is happiness and security and comfort)

Brioche is not typically made with sourdough (I do have a recipe for sourdough brioche, just haven't tried it). But in the other baking books I have, there is always a sumptuous brioche recipe.

It takes AWHILE to make a brioche. And it takes a special baking pan, which I bought in Paris.

(I'm telling you, sometimes I'm just compelled)

And isn't it pretty? I mean, it's only got about 5,000 lbs of butter. I would not file this under the 'this is DIY because it's healthier' category.

Sourdough pizza crusts are something I've had to learn to work with and not work TOO MUCH.  Too much manipulation, and it's like thick leather.

But let me tell you: if I have a restaurant pizza with a unique array of ingredients that I wind up enjoying, I will attempt to remake it with Maria.

There is a lot to be said for the 'empty out the fridge' pizza, where you don't have enough toppings to cover the whole thing.  So you do segments. Perhaps you can see: there are four, here.

Variety in one meal!

Bonci pizza here is a wondrous thing.  I wrote an early blog post on the business and my discovery of it. They too make their pizza wth lieveto madre (mother leavener - or sourdough), but they're using a super hot wood-fired brick oven and something akin to pixie dust. One type they make has no cheese.  It just has tomato, basil and chili flakes. And it is mind-blowing. So I tried to re-create it. 

And you know, while mine was ok., it wasn't the same. Sometimes it is good to know your limitations and where to go for the good stuff.

Three years ago in Tuscany, I had a sausage, red onion and gorgonzola pizza that has never left my memory. So I tried to replicate it.

Not the same, but still hella-good.

When I visit the Esquiline market near the main rail station in Rome, I am overwhelmed by the fish options.  But I am trying to teach myself a thing or two about various fish and how to cook them. If you have not yet scoped out a real fish purveyor in your area - NOT your general grocery store, but someone who specializes in selling fresh fish only - then definitely try to do so. Here in this country, I have stumbled across stores that sell only frozen things, including a lot of frozen fish.  That's certainly an alternative if the fresh fish option is not realistic for you. 

Branzino (alternate spelling, bronzino) - or sea bass - is often on restaurant menus in the 'fish of the day' category, prepared in some way that the waiter tends to embellish so that it sounds sexy enough for you to pay the high price for it.

Buy your own, if you can.  Much cheaper that way. Have it cleaned first. 

It is super easy to work with, and the yielded amount of flesh is impressive. I'm following a Tucci Table recipe here, in which the cleaned cavity of the fish is stuffed with some fresh vegetables and herbs and placed in the oven. EASY.

Yes, we have cooked octopus. No, it does not come home alive with you. Those critters are too smart to have alive in your home. They might disassemble your television or abduct the cat. 

But prepared properly - which involves a couple of steps, but they are not hard - it is delicious in a salad with cooked potatoes, pitted olives and a generous quantity of olive oil.

I learned the hard way about vongole.  Do not believe anyone online who tells you that you can store uncooked clams in the fridge under a damp cloth for one day. 

Cook them the day that you buy them. Toss them in a simple, buttery dish of spaghetti, garlic, a little chili oil, and NO CHEESE (unless you're nowhere near an Italian...in which case, do whatever you want).

Maybe you can get either a frozen mix of seafood or a fresh combination.  Get what you like or want to try. There are a lot of online recipes for linquini con frutti di mare (long flat pasta with fruit of the sea) in a spicy tomato sauce.

Shrimps sold fresh here always come with the heads still on. Even when Italians fry shrimp, the shells remain on. I'm not saying I necessarily prefer that.

Here is a pasta dish that I got from Cook's Illustrated (online or print subscriptions available, but online might make more sense...and they have an impressive number of options for someone needing to do an online search with one odd ingredient that needs to be used...plus their print subscriptions only come out every other month): Pasta alla Norcina: crumbled cooked sausage, orecchiete (little ears) pasta, cream, butter, garlic and a tiny amount of nutmeg. Bear in mind that no one can require a certain kind of pasta shape (unless they are Italian and in Italy, and even then, they can't get elbow macaroni, which is an American thing, so someone should feel superior about that), so feel free to substitute. 

I LOVE this pasta dish. There is no other food that can comfort me more. 

Most people know gnocchi as small dumplings made of potato and flour. Some people make a big show of rolling little balls of the dough across fork tines before boiling them, so that they have grooves that catch the sauce.  Other cooks roll out a rope of dough, cut pieces and toss in the salted boiling water because who has all day to do this dinner thing? 

Roman gnocchi, however, are made from semolina flour.  Cooked like polenta (which is more or less like cooked corn meal and is also similar to Southern American grits)  at first, it is spread thin to cool and then cut into round shapes that are layered, sprinkled with parmigiano (Americans know this as parmesan) cheese and baked.

The Spouse is a fan of pie. BIG fan. This was his birthday pie for yesterday: lemon cream. Graham cracker crusts (and if graham crackers are thin on the ground, do look for McVittie's oat biscuits in the British section of some grocery stores.  They will work as a good sub) ought to be made with almonds mixed in.  That is my pie crust discovery for this go-round.

Of course, later in the summer, there will be more pie filling options. 

Berries, baked, with a crumb topping.

My contribution to a Friendsgiving dinner, a couple of years ago: apple pie.  And with that fancy lattice work on top. It was worth the trouble. 

For all of my talk of culinary creations, I have to acknowledge the fine ingredients at my disposal. This is the vegetable stand I visit at least once a week. Marco kindly upsells (who am I kidding? He wants my money, of course) his better products of the day.  While he may indeed want my extra money, his recommendations are never wrong. I have learned a lot from him about seasonality in Italy, as well as how to cook some of the more unusual things I've found at his market. 

Here is the value of going to a farmer's market:  being gifted with a small treat, just to underscore the validity of the upsell.  Fragole di bosco (wild strawberries, or more literally, strawberries of the woods).

I don't do it often, but I sometimes bow to Marco's suggestions even when I don't know quite what I will do with them. Like agretti, a green that is otherwise known as 'land seaweed.'  It makes a kind of slight, squeaky sound against your teeth.  Boiled briefly in salted water, dressed with lemon and olive oil, Marco advised. So I did as I was told. It's a springtime treat, now. 

Since I've finally successfully seasoned my cast iron pan, I've been working hard on my frittata game. This one has sausage, leeks and cheese. This would be a good example of my doing something new because I had one ingredient that I needed to employ: the beautiful leeks. 

And in the summer, when tomatoes are plentiful, I've learned from the author of the Smitten Kitchen blog that a good way to maximize them is to slice, salt and oil them before slow roasting in a not-terribly warm oven. Suspend them in more olive oil, stick in the fridge, and add them to quick pastas later...unless you decide to eat them like candy. (p.s. Smitten Kitchen currently has a blog entry on pantry stocking, and she has a tiny New York kitchen...check out her recommendations for a good stockpile of basics)

Fici (figs), which will take awhile yet to come in season, combined with citrus. 

Dear, sweet Antonio, my chicken guy. 84 years young (and yes, right now he is fine!), and originally from Sardinia. His 'bio' (pronounced BEE-yoh) grade chicken enables me to do a lot of things.

How about a little combo of Indian and Middle Eastern foods: chicken masala and mujadara (rice and lentils)? I got both recipes from Cook's Illustrated. 

Roberto at my neighborhood macelleria enables me to explore pork and beef dishes. 

Pork and ramen soup, courtesy of Cook's Illustrated slow cooker cookbooks (there are two volumes; if you are an easy-prep <opening cans and boxes and bags is good enough!> kind of person, get Vol II, the Easy Prep Edition). 

I hope that this foray into another person's kitchen has helped others to think about what else to do in a quarantine kitchen.  I will frankly admit to being stymied for ideas, too (and especially right now, after 46 days of this!), but in the act of preparing this entry, populated with photos taken over the course of three years, I've remembered other things in my repertoire, things I've proven that I can do myself. When so little feels as if it is under control, the kitchen is still thankfully mine.