From My Hometown to Yours: Parmigiano-Reggiano and Aceto Balsamico di Reggio Emilia

Hardly anyone outside Italy has heard of Reggio Emilia. With the exception of Jacques Pépin—who had not only heard of it, but had visited and knew it as the food destination in Italy—most people stare blankly at me when I tell them Reggio Emilia is my Italian home town. So you can imagine my surprise as I watched a recent episode of Iron Chef America—where the secret ingredient was Balsamic Vinegar—when Alton Brown actually mentioned that Reggio Emilia is one of only two places that produce Aceto Balsamico. Not only did it make me proud, but it was pretty darn convenient as I had already begun drafting this article.

Despite the fact that Parmigiano-Reggiano is the number one imported Italian cheese in America, and that Reggio Emilia is a top producer, people—save for Alton Brown and Jacques Pépin—still don't know about my little town.  Everyone knows Modena for its Aceto Balsamico and Ferrari headquarters, and Parma for its Prosciutto di Parma, but they just haven't heard of Reggio Emilia, its food, or the fact that it's located right in between these two famous towns.



Italians do know Reggio Emilia and its culinary reputation. In fact, there's a saying in Italy: "If you only have one night in Italy and can't eat at my Mamma's house, go to Reggio Emilia."

I'd like everyone to know Reggio Emilia and its culinary history. So I'll point you to the official website of Parmigiano-Reggiano, where you can watch a short film on the making of the cheese and read about its long history. You can also visit the international site for Parmigiano-Reggiano (look, Reggio Emilia is on the map!).

Besides our world-famous queen of cheeses, in Reggio Emilia we also produce award-winning Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale, as Alton Brown rightly mentioned on Iron Chef. Though produced in smaller quantities and much, much harder to find outside of Italy, Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale di Reggio Emilia has better flavor than its mainstream, mass-produced cousins from Modena.



 

I once visited the esteemed Acetaia Cavalli Ferdinando, where I was given a personal tour of the facilities and allowed to taste some amazing Balsamics. When my cousins and I finished the tour, we entered the warehouse where the wine store is located to see what we could bring home. As we walked past the employee kitchen, one of my cousins recognized an old refrigerator and thought it looked just like the one that used to be in my Nonna's home kitchen before I was born. When we asked the gentleman who had escorted us around the grounds, he told us that they had bought the fridge second hand, nearly four decades ago, from a Varolli. We all laughed and couldn't believe it still worked, and that it was indeed my Nonna's old fridge.

The result of this bizarre coincidence was that I was allowed to purchase a "not for sale" bottle of Cavalli Ferdinando Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale Extra Vecchio, Oro, bottle number 6, which had won the Consorzio award in 2002. With a normal Gold Label costing about $240, I won't even say how much this purchase set me back, but it was worth every penny to buy the un-buyable bottle that had won such high honors.



I still have some left today because I only break it out for super special occasions, or when I want to impress one of my foodie friends with a rare product from Reggio Emilia that they simply can't get for themselves. It's amazingly thick, complex, sweet and delicious, and I only serve it on its own, a couple drops in a spoon, because Balsamic this good needs no accompaniment. Yet, on this week's Iron Chef America, neither Iron Chef Michael Simon nor the challengers did what one should do with a 50 year old Balsamic, simply serve it in a spoon or drizzled over vanilla ice cream—the two best ways to truly appreciate this gastronomic gold.



There is, of course, more to the culinary landscape of Reggio Emilia than Parmigiano-Reggiano and Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale, but these two products are a good place to start if you want to get a feel for the food of this little town I call my home in Italy. You can also check out my recipe for rich Bolognese, based on the traditional version of Reggio Emilia, and look for my upcoming recipes for Tortelli and Tortellini en Brodo, both classic dishes from Reggio Emilia. If you'd like to read up on the culinary traditions of my home town, and home region of Emilia-Romagna, the best book by far is The Splendid Table, by Lynne Rosetto Kasper.

Brooklyn Fare Kitchen Extends Service, Finds New Location

Heard it on good authority that the success of Brooklyn Fare Kitchen has led to the addition of Tuesday and Wednesday night menus, as their Thursday-Saturday seatings were booking nearly 3 months in advance.

Also rumored, Brooklyn Fare Kitchen has found a new home! Location TBA, but they're interviewing new staff, and though they will maintain the same concept, it's likely Chef César Ramirez and Sous Chef Juan Leon won't be serving and bussing any longer.

This isn't much of a surprise. They had been trying to find a new space nearby in Brooklyn when I was there for my birthday, but had no leads at that time. They've had amazing press, and I even saw Ramirez and Brooklyn Fare Kitchen featured on my NYC Taxi TV a few times lately. Kudos, they deserve every bit of press they get!

I'll post the new location, and expected date of opening, as soon as I hear it!

WISE TIP: Coping with Kitchen Burns

When you've got 4 burners going, a roast and a gratin in the oven, and guests in your living room, what do you do when you've just reached for one of your pans and ended up burning yourself? It's not a riddle, it's a real home kitchen dilemma.

For me, after so many years of burning myself at times when I can hardly stop to nurse my wound, I've learned to just ignore burns. That's right, I ignore the pain and keep working as if nothing's happened. This may sound nuts, but it's what I do—and I dare say I wouldn't get shouted at by Gordon Ramsay thanks to this ability. In a professional kitchen, unless your skin is melting, you just can't stop working for every little burn. Mind over matter is the name of the game.

Burns are a fact of kitchen life—at home or in a restaurant—and learning to master them is key. When I first tried just ignoring my burns years ago, they would hurt despite my attempts to focus on my cooking and my guests. Slowly though, over time, they just stopped hurting. It's really a mind trick that anyone with a brain can master.

Today, when I burn myself and simply can't stop, I forget so completely about my little injury that I'm only reminded a day or two later when I knock my finger or arm up against something. My reaction of "Ouch!" is quickly followed by "Oh yeah, I burned myself yesterday."

Sometimes though, burns are too serious to ignore. In this case, if the ER isn't necessary, the only thing you can do is stop and immerse your burn in ice water. So long as your burn is submerged in water, it won't get worse and it won't hurt. This trick works, big time. I once stumbled towards a wood-burning stove registering 675 degrees. As I fell forward in seeming slow motion my choice was to hit the stove with my head or my hand. I chose my hand, which came down flat and hard on the metal part of the stove, and which I used to shove myself back up on my feet. Then I ran, shouting profanities, all the way to the sink.

The burn was so bad that the second I took my hand from the water it throbbed in a cartoon-like manner. Not wanting to spend the evening hovering over the tap, I filled a bowl with ice and water and spent the entire night with my hand in the bowl. When bed-time came, it still hurt too much to take it out, so I put the bowl on my bedside table and fell asleep with my hand in the water.

When I awoke the next day, much to my surprise, my hand was still in the water. So I lifted it out to see how it felt and you can imagine my shock when my hand didn't hurt one bit and there wasn't a single mark left from the burn. That's how well the ice-water method works.

Thing is, even when you get to the point where you can ignore your minor burns (not the major ones), if you don't want to be covered in scars then you should always treat them with Vitamin E. Just poke a pin in a Vitamin E soft-gel and squirt the oil onto your burn. The more often you treat your burn with Vitamin E, the less scarring you'll have.

If you're a cooking nut like me, having a few burn scars isn't anything to be ashamed of, quite the opposite in fact—these scars are like badges of honor, they attest to the fact that there's no need for me to get out of the kitchen, I can stand the heat.

The Ultimate Surprise Birthday Dinner at Brooklyn Fare Kitchen

I confess, I've never had a surprise birthday party in my life. So when my man planned one for me this year, I hadn't a single suspicion, it was so off my radar. All I knew was that he was taking me to a "surprise dinner" on Sunday, and my only concern was what to wear (because I trust his choice in food).

All dressed and ready to go, Damien poured my favorite Lambrusco from my home town of Reggio Emilia, then he suggested we have a toast on the roof, where we have a spectacular view of the Statue of Liberty. Given I had dragged him up to the roof the previous night, at 1:00a.m., I didn't really want to go up again. It was cloudy, and the humidity was typical of August on the East Coast—swamp like and sticky.

Yet, for some mysterious reason, I could see in his pleading eyes that he really, really wanted to go up, so I conceded.

When we got to the roof I saw a group of people already hanging out, nothing out of the norm, everyone in my building takes in the view, so I didn't really look at them too closely. Then they all rushed towards me and shouted "Surprise!"

My head spun, it was so unexpected that it was more of a shock than a surprise. I was so thrown that it felt like mental whiplash. My brain had to shift gears without using its clutch. All I could think was "Is the apartment a total mess? Do we have drinks for everyone? Food! Do we have food?!"

We all came back down to the apartment and popped some Champagne to toast my birthday. Overwhelmed and totally thrilled that this was indeed a surprise party, and it was for me, I quickly forgot my immediate concerns. And, I learned that we were all heading to dinner together.

Brain working overtime, I started to guess where we might be going. Then, in our cars on route, I had a growing suspicion when we turned onto Chambers Street, heading for the Brooklyn Bridge, that we were going to our friend César Ramirez's new place, Brooklyn Fare Kitchen. Damien and I had been there just the second weekend it was open, but I forgot my camera, so I didn't write about it back then. I'm making up for that omission now.

When we all reconvened outside Brooklyn Fare Kitchen, everyone was surprised, they'd never seen anything like it. Even those of my friends used to gastro dining had yet to see a venue like this. I've eaten at many Chef's Tables and done plenty of Tasting Menus, but Brooklyn Fare Kitchen takes these concepts to a whole new level.


The normal menu usually consists of about seven courses, but Damien had booked the whole kitchen for my birthday, and Cesar surprised all of us with a few extra dishes, bringing the total to eleven.

The meal started with a Canapé of Iranian Hibiscus, a chilled shot of refreshing hibiscus liquid topped with hibiscus foam, perfect for cleaning the palate and perking up the humidity-zapped diners.


Our next course—Veal Brains with Sauce Gribiche—was a bonus for my birthday, so it isn't on the regular menu, which, by the way, changes rather frequently. A few friends not used to eating offal couldn't help but to cringe, yet, once they popped the tiny, perfectly fried Veal Brains into their mouths, they were more than glad they didn't let squeamishness stop them from trying something new... and fabulous.

The third course, simply called "Tomato" on the menu, was well more than just a tomato. In César style, a style I've loved for years, since he was the Executive Chef at Bouley in Tribeca, a "tomato" was transformed into myriad manifestations of an Insalata Caprese—including a frozen tomato marshmallow—and served in a show-stopping manner. Knowing the best of the best, César chose an Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale from Reggio Emilia, aged 20 years, to drizzle over his creation. After seeing the actual plate, one friend joked, "After eating his 'Tomato,' I can't wait to get to his 'Mango!'"



Our fourth course was also on the regular menu, a Kona Kampachi with Ponzu sauce and crispy fried leeks. César knows how to cut fish like a Sushi Chef, resulting in slices of Kampachi that were as soft and supple as butter. This was perhaps my favorite course of the evening, though it's more than difficult to say with everything being so good.



The fifth course, another special birthday bonus, was Bulgur, Black Rice, and Egg with Summer Truffles. The yolk was just warmed and still runny, and the white had been hard boiled then emulsified, producing a texture akin to custard. The smoothness of the egg was coupled with the crunchiness of the crispy black rice, and blanketed in the flavor and aroma of summer truffles. Simple perfection.



Typical of the deceptively unassuming Brooklyn Fare Kitchen menu, the next course was "Roasted Scallops with Parsley Mousse." In reality, it was a dish of roasted scallops, fresh Oregon-raised snails and langoustine, topped with a thin slice of pork belly, served on a parsley mousse. Now, I love escargot, I even tried to make some with my big sister when I was six years old, with snails we gathered from our back garden. The meal was a complete failure, but not so with César's fresh snails—of course. Truth be told, I have never had a snail so tender. Not in the U.S., not even in France. And, the addition of the pork belly provided the perfect fat needed to pair with such lean proteins.


The seventh course, another birthday bonus, was Japanese Snapper with Fava Beans, Corn Purée and Summer Vegetables. Melted over the snapper was a square of caramel that enhanced the natural sweetness of the fish itself. And the vegetables, though tiny, weren't one second overcooked. I've been served too many floppy, flavorless vegetables to take César's for granted.


Course eight, from the regular menu, was Steamed Fois Gras with Tofu and Dashi Sauce, and a hint of Shiso. I didn't know you could steam Fois Gras, but that's why I'm no César Ramirez. The result was a silky, perfectly cooked little piece of fatty liver heaven.


By this point, even those of us with enormous appetites were starting to feel a bit full. But with food this amazing, nobody was ready to stop. A good thing too, because our Fois Gras was followed by a stunning item on the regular menu, Maine Lobster with Fresh Horseradish, Cooked Beets, Beet Sauce and Beet Caramel. Having just talked with one of my friends about how we didn't like beets, but how I had had some that I did like, I turned to her and said, "Oh yeah, I remember, César made me beets I liked, so you have to eat this!" She, and I, both liked the beets, and the beet caramel atop the whole dish was a huge surprise to everyone, both for its flavor and its technique.


The final savory course, tenth overall, was a Veal Loin with Italian Kale from the menu. On our plates, it was more than just that, and included Tete de Veau with Mushrooms and Sweetbreads. I love fried sweetbreads, and César's were done to perfection, crispy on the outside, billowy on the inside. Again, even those who had never had sweetbreads tried them, and they began to understand that in the hands of a chef like César Ramirez, anything can be delicious—brains, organs, liver, beets—you name it. The veal loin was a rare mini-medallion married to a purée of blackened onions. Beyond yummy.



At last, and after some serious efforts to make room for dessert in our stuffed tummies, we finally got to the "Mango" on the menu, a creation of sous-chef Juan Leon. As my friend quipped earlier, it was more than just mango. The dessert was a parfait of sorts, served in a stemless wine glass, with layers of Mango cream, chunky mango compote, and thin slices of pound cake, topped with a torched wafer-thin layer of dried mango "caramel." No birthday cake necessary! But everyone did take the opportunity to sing.


More than just a surprise birthday dinner for myself, the evening ended up a celebration of food, friends, new culinary experiences, and, of course, the talent of César Ramirez and his sous-chef Juan Leon. At one point in the evening a friend said, "This has got to be the best birthday dinner going on in all of America tonight!"

You don't need a birthday excuse to head on over to Brooklyn Fare Kitchen. It's a gastronomic experience unlike any other. Sitting in the kitchen at the chef's actual workspace, being served by the chefs themselves, and having them articulate their dishes and answer questions, makes for an intimate and relaxed atmosphere, topped off with food from the stratosphere.



Though its ten seats are booking up almost two months in advance, it's well worth the wait. Lacking a liquor license, it's BYOW (for Wine), making the $70 prix fix menu a bargain. Just remember to bring enough wine to share with the chefs! Oh, and I'll hear none of that "I don't go to Brooklyn" from you Manhattanites. I used to joke about needing my passport to go to Brooklyn, but I made it to Brooklyn Fare Kitchen not once, but twice in two months. And I'll go back for sure, again and again, because the menu never stays the same. Indeed, with the theme "Food Under Construction," Brooklyn Fare Kitchen isn't a one-off experience.



Open Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, Brooklyn Fare Kitchen seats maximum 10 people. The Prix Fix menu is a steal at $70 per person, and it's BYOW.


EDIT, July 2010:  Brooklyn Fare Kitchen's days and prices have changed, and it's no longer BYOW.  Call to get on the waiting list!  : )


To make reservations at Brooklyn Fare Kitchen, please call 718.243.0500. Brooklyn Fare Kitchen is located at 200-3 Schermerhorn Street, Brooklyn, NY 11201... Just across the street from the A, C, and G stops at Hoyt-Schermerhorn (just three stops into Brooklyn, people).

http://www.brooklynfare.com/thekitchen.php?page=3,0

The Yummiest, Juiciest, Easiest BBQ Pork Ribs Ever

I must give credit where credit is due. This recipe for Pork Ribs is my version of a recipe I got years ago from Executive Chef Derek Emerson, owner of Walker's Drive-In in Jackson, Mississippi. I haven't changed the fundamental techniques, I've just given it my own personal twists, which means that you can add your own personal flare to it as well, and still have the same, excellent results. These pork ribs are sooo good that I have had both a vegetarian and a Jewish friend who doesn't eat pork both break down and eat them. They just couldn't stand hearing all the "YUM"s, and "Oh"s all around and not try them!

This recipe is super easy, and though it takes some time, it's not a lot of active time. Because of the technique, you can make the ribs well in advance of your guests arriving and simply finish them off without any hassle. You can take the rib recipe for itself, but I've also shared how you can turn your ribs into an entire meal out of the same pot, and that's always a beautiful thing.

What you'll need:

Organic Pork Ribs (Berkshire and Niman Ranch Pork are my faves, one full rack of St. Louis Style ribs serves two people, look for the most marbled ribs you can find)
3 Medium Yellow Onions, roughly chopped
2 Large Carrots, peeled, roughly chopped
3 Celery Ribs, roughly chopped
2 Granny Smith Apples, washed (in warm water if they're covered in wax), halved
Whole Black Peppercorns
Whole Juniper Berries
Fresh Rosemary and Thyme
BBQ Sauce (my fave for this particular recipe is "Bone Suckin' Sauce")

In a large stock pot, bring the vegetables, apples, peppercorns, and juniper berries just to a boil. Turn the heat down to medium-high for a strong simmer and allow the liquid to reduce for about 2 hours. In the last half hour, add the rosemary and thyme.

You can use whatever vegetables you like, just don't skip the onions and carrots, or the apples and thyme. Like with any vegetable stock, you can use leeks, scallions, garlic, parsley—just be sure the flavors you choose will go well with pork. Choosing your ingredients is how to make this recipe your own!

When you have a flavorful liquid, add some coarse Kosher salt to the pot then add the rack(s) of ribs to the water. On medium-high heat, simmer the ribs for about 45 minutes, skimming the muck off the top of the liquid. The ribs will be cooked through completely, but leave them in the pot until you've finished your BBQ sauce, or for as long as you need, turning the heat down to the very lowest setting.


After cooking the ribs for about 30 minutes, take about one cup of the liquid from the stock pot and put it into a small saucepan. On high heat, reduce this liquid by about half. Then whisk in the BBQ sauce. Leave this sauce on low heat until ready to use.


As it's BBQ time of year, most of you will want to finish the ribs off on the grill. But if you live on the East Coast like me, it rains a fair bit in the summer, so you can also finish the ribs off in a broiler whenever the weather isn't being cooperative with your plans.

Have the BBQ or broiler all ready to go on high heat. Remove the ribs from the stock pot and place them on a large dish or jelly roll pan for preparation. If you're using the broiler instead of the BBQ, line your jelly-roll pan with heavy duty aluminum foil before placing the ribs on it.


Generously smother the ribs with your prepared BBQ sauce, immediately (if they sit out, they dry out). If grilling, place them bone-side down on the grill first, turning once, finishing up with the meat-side down. If broiling, broil the bone-side up first, then flip the ribs to broil the meat side. Whether in the broiler or on the grill, slather on more of your BBQ sauce when you flip the ribs. Remember, your ribs are already cooked through, you're just grilling / broiling them to get a nice, flavorful char on the meat.


Every summer I save the liquid each time I make these ribs. I freeze it, labeling it "pork stock," and I add the frozen stock to the liquid every time I make ribs.

If you would like to make an entire meal out of this single pot, you'll also need:

Small Potatoes (washed, unpeeled, left whole)
Corn on the Cob (husks and silk removed) or Artichokes (trimmed and cleaned)
Dental Floss

Small, whole potatoes, about 2" in diameter, will take about 20-25 minutes to cook. Add them to your pot after the ribs have been in for about ½ hour, and cook them until they slide easily off of a paring knife inserted in the middle. You can leave the potatoes whole for serving, or you can turn them into mashed potatoes (but then you'd have to use another pot). When I leave the potatoes whole for serving, I put some of the stock in a gravy boat so my guests can pour a bit over their potatoes if they like.


Corn on the cob only takes about 3-5 minutes to cook in boiling water. When you take your ribs out of the pot to put them in the broiler, turn the heat back up to high on the stock pot, and add the corn when you flip the ribs. To check the corn for doneness, pull one out of the water with tongs and pierce one kernel with the tip of a pairing knife or one fork prong. If the kernel squirts out some juice when pierced, your corn is done.

My thanks to Chef Derek Emerson for this recipe! He shared it with me ages ago, and it's still the best easy rib recipe I know. Hope you feel the same too!