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30 marzo 2007
Pedaling Wine:
Palermo - My Cooking Class


‘Well it’s obviously how classically-trained French chefs would have absorbed the more humble Sicilian ingredients’, I find myself telling Franco Giglio, Sicily’s biggest wine exporter, and owner of Cibus, a cooking school here in Palermo. He stares at me for a second, perhaps processing what I just said and wondering if I actually know a thing or two about the cooking of Sicily. I assure him that I don’t. It was actually in reference to the stuffed artichokes that his chef Rosario is showing us how to make.


First Rosario pits and cleans an artichoke. Then he stuffs it with an arabesque mixture of breadcrumbs, currents, raisins, pine nuts and then coats the tops in eggs and then fries them upside down, only later to slowly simmer them in a deep, watery tomato sauce. To anyone that grew up outside of Sicily, the dish seems like a lot of work for an ultimately rough-and-tumble vegetable, the end product a sort of rough tweed satchel rather than the proverbial silk purse from a sow’s ear.

Sly (in background) attending class in Palermo....

 

‘It’s a dying dish’, says Franco Giglio and all the students nod, sagely. This would be the only actual comments that are made regarding anything historical, cultural or even anthropological. Taken with all the stainless steel, noisy hoods, dented industrial aluminium and the nearly silent, not-so-comfortable-around-people, professional chef, the school here represents the other end of the spectrum in cooking schools, a model so different from mine as to seem a different animal all together.

Sly in class - Palermo
On the other hand, other dishes that Rosario walks us through are virtually identical to those back home, and his Agnellino Siciliano is exactly the same as a dish we have in Puglia, only his ‘young lamb’ would be nearly mutton’s age in Puglia. (I say ‘in Puglia’, but nearly everyone here in the Mezzo Giorno (the ‘half day’, the South of Italy) would recognize the dish of lamb sprinkled with bread crumbs, then tossed with potato wedges, onion, herbs and white wine, as distinctly calabrese or lucano, etc., so common is the treatment, so beloved the dish. We form marzipan into little lambs, make an Easter cake featuring eggs still in the shell, fry croquettes from milk-rather than potatoes- and a basic rue, bang out a seafood risotto and a dish of factory pasta with cuttlefish sauce, the ink staining all of our smiles wicked-witch black, and that is that: class is over. It’s unclear whether or not we actually eat together, as most of the students wrap the food in tinfoil trays and plastic wrap and head for the door.

I grab a table in the school’s cafe, buy a bottle of Donna Fugata’s Mille e una notte from the shelf and sit down and eat and drink our student creations, noticing how, 1) that in fact I do tend to actually prefer expensive wine as opposed to cheap, simple wine, something I would have argued the other way only five years ago: the Donna Fugata comes in at 35 Euro retail, which marks it as one of the most expensive bottles I’d ever be willing to pay for in Italian wine country, where 5 Euro still can buy you something stellar. 2) I go through the related price-to-quality thoughts, such as, do I really like it seven times better than an average bottle of wine? And if I do, how much do I notice that difference based solely on the fact that I spent the money and thus will really taste the wine, something a lot easier to overlook when the price tag resides in more humble neighbourhoods. I notice that, 3) that even after only four bottles into my adventure that it’s already clear that Sicilian wine really tastes Cooking pots at school in Palermomore like New World wine, rather than old, and that, 4) I distinctly taste Cabernet Sauvignon in the wine, even though the label is silent on the matter. Franco Giglio passes at one point half way through the bottle and I ask him. He picks up a glass, tilts it ever-so-lovingly to the side, so that the wine thins into a teary smear on the inside of the glass, and says, No, solo Nero d’Avola. He holds the glass as if he wants to take a sip and swirls, but then just put it down again: I genuinely offer him a glass, which he refuses, motioning that he has things to do. It’s an uncomfortable moment, me reaching out to him, him not wanting to break his patriarchal, authoritative distance.

Walking back to the Signora and dancing Lu-Lu, I think about how much I have to learn about wine still, and wonder if my thesis of this trip - that Southern producers are too eager to rip out their indigenous, autochthonous grapes in favour of yet more chardonnay, cabernet sauvignon, and lately, Syrah, just at the time when the world is developing interests in minor grapes in minor European regions- mightn’t have been a little fool hardy for someone that tastes Cabernet Sauvignon where he shouldn't......

to Day 3

Commenti:Cooking school in Palermo - Cibus

luv2travel ha detto...
I visited Sicily in 1987, hard to believe it was 20 years ago. A highlight was taking a local ferry from Trapani over to the island of
Levanzo. It is a very small island, no cars, the ferry was passenger only. Well, there were a few chickens on board too, and the morning newspapers, and some locals. I was the only tourist.

What are the differences between traveling north of Naples vs. South? Well in the north, they just assumed I was American. In the south, I'd get these looks and then "Are you Swedish? Are you German or Dutch?" I'd say no, American, and they'd be really surprised. Americans just don't go to Sicily.

Another difference: in the north, I would see tons of tour buses. There are very few group buses in the south.

A third difference: the pace. The presence of frequent bus and train service between cities made it very easy to say "well in the morning I'll go to the Uffizi and the Duomo (Florence). Then at 12:10 I'll grab the bus to Sienna. At 5 I catch the bus to San Gimignano, have a quick look, then back to Florence for pizza and gelato." In the south, this simply isn't feasible. There aren't so many sites jammed together that you'd want to see anyway.

But, 4th, the experience is fundamentally different. The solitude of seeing the sun come up over the sandstone-washed temples at Agrigento, or having a north-african influenced dish near the ferry going to Tunis, or of seeing Mt Etna looming over everything and knowing that yes, this is a LIVE volcano like Vesuvius was, is just plain different.

I look forward to seeing the photos , tasting the food vicariously, and hearing about the great experiences you have. I am not familiar with the wine route, but hopefully it passes close to Agrigento and to Cefalu, home of a 1000 year old Romanesque style church built by Roger the 2nd of Normandy with Saracen worksmen in a Romanesque style, but with curved windows.

25 febbraio 2007 5.52
wendissima ha detto...
Ciao Silvestro,
La Sicilia! Lucky diavolo...!!

Hope you get into a lot of good trouble.

Dont miss the catacombs of Palermo for some gruesome thrills and the pottery in Caltagirone. Also a little restaurant in Monreale called Siculi & Sicani has some interesting local food.

Cannot wait to hear your stories..

Wendy

27 febbraio 2007 21.10
Mela ha detto...
I can't wait to read your tales about "the nectar of gods" as my father used to call wine...I deeply envy you for this great adventure especially because leaving in England I don't get many chances to enjoy a good glass of wine sitting in a sunny wine yard...enjoy every minute of it and keep safe!!

Alla tua!

 

Mela

8 marzo 2007 20.36
MerceBcn ha detto...
Hola Papiko!!!

Soy Merce y te escribo para que practiques tu castellano ;-) Cuándo comienzas il giro?
EL otro día ibamos a comer con Mónica y Nico se enfadó porque no viniste! jejeje
Un beso
Merce


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