Making Basil Pesto in a Blender

This article is about basil pesto, the second most famous Italian pasta sauce, of course after tomato sauce.

However, this is not about the traditional way to make “Pesto Genovese” – using a mortar; there are plenty of good resources on that (as greatly summarized on Food Lover’s Odyssey). This article is about the more modern way to make pesto – using a blender, a method which is quite common also in Italy.

Technically the word “pesto” comes from the Italian ‘pestare’, to pound. Therefore, the purists would argue that this sauce should be called differently when made in a blender.

Aside from how it should be called, does the pesto made in a blender taste the same as the traditional one? Absolutely not. But it does get close, and it’s much better than any pesto that I could ever buy in a jar.

But before we start throwing basil leaves into the blender, it’s important to know that chopped basil is prone to oxidation – it turns dark and deteriorates in flavor when in contact with the oxygen in the air. Luckily oxidation can be countered by allowing the basil leaves to dry completely before blending them so that the oil can create a seal around the chopped leaves, keeping the oxygen away.

Basil also deteriorates and changes flavor when heated too much. To help counter this, the blender must be activated in pulses in order to limit the overall blending time and the corresponding friction produced by the blades. It also helps to chill the blender bowl and blade in the freezer before use.

Pesto sauce is traditionally used on trenette, trofie (pictured below), but also on linguini, spaghetti (as in this post’s feature image), and even gnocchi.

Making Basil Pesto in a Blender

Yield: 4 servings as pasta sauce

Total Time: 15 minutes

Prep Time: 15 minutes

Making Basil Pesto in a Blender

Ingredients

  • 100 g fresh basil leaves (if you can find it, prefer the Genovese kind)
  • 50 g Parmigiano (or a mix of Parmigiano & Pecorino cheese)
  • 25 g pine nuts (possibly, from the Mediterranean)
  • ½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
  • 1 teaspoon of coarse salt
  • 1 clove of garlic (optional)

Preparation

  1. Gently wash the basil under cold running water and then lay it on a towel and let it dry completely (fig. 1). Do not bend or crush the leaves.
  2. Meanwhile, put the blender's bowl and blade in the freezer for at least 10 minutes (fig. 2a).
  3. Pour all of the oil in the blender, then add the crushed garlic (if using it) and the basil. Give it a few pulses until the leaves are roughly chopped up (fig. 2b).
  4. Add the cheese, grated or cut in small bits, and the salt (fig. 2c). Give it a few more spins.
  5. Add the whole pine nuts (fig. 2d).
  6. Give a few last spins and extract from the blender (fig. 3).

Notes

If the sauce is not used immediately, it can be preserved in the fridge for up to two to three days. Store it in a tall and narrow container (e.g.: a glass) and top it up with an extra tablespoon of olive oil. Before using it, leave the sauce out of the fridge an hour - don't warm it up, or you'll cause the cheese to lump together and separate from the oil. Pesto can also be frozen, in that case some recommend not to add the cheese until the sauce is thawed.

https://www.disgracesonthemenu.com/2022/01/making-basil-pesto-in-a-blender.html

[Thoughts on the Table – 90] Italian Words Gone Wrong – Mistakes on the Menu

This unusual episode is the audio version of the article Italian Words Gone Wrong – 6 Mistakes Native Italians Don’t Make.

Despite the broad title, the post focuses on the types of mistakes that are commonly found on the menus of Italian restaurants outside of Italy.

This spoken version of course adds the pronunciation of the Italian words used as examples. I hope this can be useful to some readers, rather than more confusing 🙂 Thanks for listening!

The music in the episode is by www.purple-planet.com.

   

Ten Years!

Ten years ago, I pushed ‘post’ for the first time. What a journey! Honestly, I didn’t quite know what I was getting myself into, and I am so glad I didn’t: I took it one step at a time and learned along the way. The discovery was both on the content front and on the technical side, and there were hurdles on both. At some point, though, things became quite clear and predictable. This blog was not really going to be a blog, as in a “weblog,” rather it became a collection of about 60 of my favorite recipes, a place where to publish short articles or essays, as one could say, on Italian culture, ingredients, and products and the companion website of my podcast, which has 78 episodes to-date.

If you’ve been following me, you have certainly noticed however that, lately, my posts have been lacking significantly and that my presence on the social networks has also gone down. This was an exceptional year, however, and I do plan to resume blogging and podcasting as soon as things will normalize a bit. I’m sure you all know what I’m referring to, COVID-19 has seriously disrupted our lives, if not worse. On top of this, the pandemic hit as we were renovating our new house in preparation for moving in. This, of course, proved to be challenging, but it all worked out in the end!

Moving to a nearby town while lockdown is in place was probably the hardest part. We lost the physical presence of neighbors, friends, and coworkers, as well as familiar places and routines. No more strolls to the neighborhood park, no more day trips to London, no more stopping at the local grocery store where you know where everything is! And of course no more favorite restaurants and cafes. Normally, when one moves, they replace the comfort of familiarity with the excitement of discovery. Well, there hasn’t been a lot of discovery with social-distancing in full effect. Just a few strolls around town, some getting in line at the grocery store, and some careful errands at the post office or the hardware store. Things are getting much better now, with more businesses reopening. But we all know that there is still a significant risk of a second wave and that – really – we should all still try to stay home whenever we can.

Staying home though has its advantages. A lot more cooking! And a lot more planning around what to cook, based on the availability of delivery slots from the online superstore we started using heavily. With more time for cooking as well, this was a win-win situation for us. We experimented with more recipes and cuisines, some baking, and of course still going strong with my sourdough! Speaking of which, the only recipe/article I posted this year was about my proofing and baking method and I couldn’t be more proud of the reliable results I keep getting, still with the same starter which has now been with us for 16 months! At first, during lockdown, everyone seemed to have started baking and it was a bit challenging to get a hold of the strong flour needed for feeding, but with the help of friend bakers we still managed to source enough of it, and it’s now back on the shelves. I hope that more people got into baking as a result!

During the past year, I only published one podcast episode – a chat with writer Andrew Cotto on his lovely novel Cucina Tipica, which is set in Italy and centered on food, as you might have guessed! I have been in touch with future podcast guests and I plan to resume production in the next few weeks.

To end this anniversary post, I would like to thank you all for your support during these months. I wish you all the best and hope to chat with you soon via messages, comments, and – who knows – maybe through a podcast! Stay safe.

Nine Years of Blogging, Six of Podcasting

Another year has gone by! After settling down in England, I found myself cooking more and dedicating more time to the podcast. With 17 posts, 10 of which are podcast episodes (four with new guests and six with returning guests), six recipes, and the first guest article, this has been a pretty productive year for me! After nine years, I’m as excited as ever for this project.

Why more cooking? I think it’s mainly because of two reasons. First, an increased availability of quality ingredients, especially produce, courtesy of the town’s street markets and of a couple of great supermarkets. Second, the access to a gas stove, as opposed to an electric range. I had forgotten what highly controllable, high-power heat can do for the home cook–get the water boiling in no time and then quickly bring it to a simmer; get the oil to a searing temperature, then lower the heat for braising and finally turn it all the way up for reducing. If you have tried both kinds of stovetops, I’m sure you agree. I hear induction is somewhere in between, but I have never tried it.

Why more podcasting? Well, because it’s a lot of fun! As I mentioned before, I love every aspect of the production, from approaching (or being approached by) a candidate guest to publishing the result. Partway through the year, I started tracking subscription numbers and I was pleasantly surprised to see that the podcasts had nearly doubled the blog’s subscriptions. I hope that this is an indication that podcasts are becoming more popular, which makes me happy since I have always felt part of a quiet minority of avid podcast listeners. I would like to thank my fabulous guests once more! I loved working with each and every one of you 🙂

This year, for the first time in this blog, I had the pleasure of hosting a guest article covering a topic I couldn’t have handled myself, but that perfectly fits within the project. Writer and enologist Melinda King kindly broke down the complex world of geographical indications and their cultural, political, and economic impact. To further discuss these themes, Melinda was also back as a podcast guest. Thanks, Melinda, for your generous contribution!

Looking ahead as year 10 starts, the podcast remains my main focus. I’ve already started working with future guests and can’t wait to have them on the show. I also plan on documenting a few more of the recipes I like to prepare, including my newest tradition–artisan bread from my sourdough starter, Bubbles! As you may have seen, Bubbles has now been in the family for four months, pretty much taking over my Instagram feed, in a rewarding and self-sustaining way 🙂

To close this brief retrospective, here is a summary of this year’s posts, grouped by themes, just in case you missed any of them. Thanks again for reading and listening, it has been an honor.

Recipes – First Courses

Asparagus Risotto
Mushrooms and Cheese Crespelle

Recipes – Second Courses

Potato Crusted Sea Bream
Deep Fried Squid Calamari Fritti

Recipes – Sides

Braised Fennel
Battered Cauliflower

Podcast Episodes

Guest Post

Geographical Indications: Italian Food, Made Official Or “Complicated Simplicity”

Geographical Indications: Italian Food, Made Official Or “Complicated Simplicity”

For the first time in this blog, I have the pleasure to feature a guest post. This article is by enologist, writer, and photographer Melinda King. To know more about Melinda, check out The Premise of Italian Cuisine podcast.

Melinda King

Italian culture is special in ways that are delicately combined, tangible and intangible. It would be impossible to disconnect Italian culture from the topic of Italian food, and the entire nation is formed by connections of things grown and eaten. Eating evokes emotional, memory, sensory, spiritual, and gustatory reactions, which are born from chemistry and imagination. This is a proud food system made from thousands of years of place-specific combinations; exceptional raw ingredients, combined and shared at tables, are traded in markets and perfected with love. Italian flavors are a stunning collection of colorful stories that grow from field to city, within regions—after all, the country was a collection of nation-states until unification in 1861. The subject of authenticity is constant to hungry Italians, who does it best, according to the way it is supposed to be done. Although they are talented innovators, tradition is the mark of excellence and respect. Thus, we are left to wonder: what is Italian food? What is Italian? Now, the country that has been a historical crossroads is asking serious questions about identity. Thoughts on the Table is the brilliant work of a worldly Italian (Paolo Rigiroli) who is brave enough to explore these themes. What Italians eat (and how), he reminds us, is every bit who they are.

And it is the Italians who have the hardest time answering these queries. The food is a source of incredible comfort and passion, and it is very difficult to reach conclusions. In an effort to distill one singular definition for the entirety of “Italian food,” one might say it is agriculture. This reminds us that the cuisine is an honorable and humble form of hard work. It is the superlative expression of microclimate, microbiology, and sunshine. It is the Italian people, respecting the gifts of their land, who proceed to turn wheat fields into toothsome vermicelli, lemons to acrid limoncello, winter cabbage into soothing ribollita, and 140-kg pigs into rose-leather prosciutto. Wine is further example of Italian agricultural genius.

How is it possible to organize such an enormous, magnificent topic? Taking into consideration so many places, dialects, seasons, and details, what is Italian food, and where does it come from? Are we being too precious about what we eat? Does place truly matter? And how can an entire nation be world-known such a thing as flavor?

Italian PGI olive oil sold in the UK.[Photo by Paolo Rigiroli]Recently, a friend of mine traveled to Rome, and wanted to buy a bottle of “authentic” Italian olive oil, to take with him back to Sweden. He found a large store, and assumed it would be a simple purchase. He tells me that it took forty minutes for him to decide on a single bottle, after asking three employees for help and making various searches on his cell phone. “There were so many bottles!” he exclaimed. “So many oils, from so many places, and so many different prices! Why do they do this?” In the end, he bought the smallest one, and left. Italy is very proud of its products, and olive oil is an incredibly critical topic. I imagine my friend saw bottles from Puglia, Veneto, Sicilia, Toscana, and Umbria, at the least, as each claims its olives to be the best. There are then the categories of oils (virgin, extra virgin, cold press, organic, biodynamic, gold label, etc.) and sizes (1 oz. flavored with pepperoncini or truffle) to 5 kg. The oils are sacred to the places they come from, and one would use local oil for local dishes. Moreover, every Italian olive has different compounds (peppery, golden, green, honey, smoky, juniper), that is tied to the environment it was grown and processed in. Hundreds of such compounds have been identified which contribute to the distinctive organoleptic characteristics that make Italian olive oil so exceptional.

Added to that, there are currently some issues in the worldwide olive oil industry, as origin is not easy to certify. Olives may be grown in Tunisia, and bottled in Spain. California olive oils companies used to quietly fly their products to southern Italy, where the plane would touch down and fill with gas, only to return to California for sale. This meant the oil bottles could be labeled with the words “From Italy.” Confusion is rampant in the marketplace, considering the brand of Italian foods.

How can Italian food protect and promote itself, and guarantee quality? This is important, more than ever, with the increasing global economy—and with new technologies (it is easier to mass produce foods, or copy ones already existing). What about Italian traditions? The individual state governments of Europe have, for the past few decades, been dealing with these issues within their own cultures. How to protect the integrity of Bulgarian cheeses, Greek wine, or German blood sausage? Italy was the second country, after France, to take action on certifying its natural food products. It was both a post-war reaction to economic and land issues, as well as a way to acknowledge the most important pieces of lifestyle. European states have since cooperated under the umbrella of the European Union, recognizing one another’s specialized products. Italy has been a tremendous example in this movement, to certify traditions in and out of its borders.

This does not mean that Italy published a list of official foods. Protected status does not cover lasagna and tiramisu. The topic is Geographical Indications (GI), and means that certain food products are trademarked as Italian, and cannot be impersonated or misrepresented. To be certified, the item must have a specific place of origin, a historically documented meaning, and production methods that adhere to exact steps and standards. They are the ingredients (animal products, herbs, fruits, vegetables, legumes, and dairy products) that make Italian food “Italian,” that they are raised in Italy, by Italians, where taste represents what cannot be verbalized. It is also a way to maintain identity, while earning a decent income. This applies to small-time producers, as well as the entire industries.

Geographical indications (GIs) is a legal status, represented with a visual package or label symbol, that identify a food as having originated from a specific place where a given attribute, reputation, or other characteristic of that good is attributable to its geographical home. GIs act like a trademark–once established, they confer certain exclusive rights to the owner. Unlike other intellectual property rights (patents, trademarks, copyrights), GIs are owned collectively by all producers in a region, rather than by an individual or a single company.

Note: there are Geographical indications are over the world (China, India, Sweden, Australia, South Africa, etc.). The United States is currently trying to garner support for their own system of GI (Georgia peaches, Idaho potatoes, California avocados), but the reputations of such products, and a strong system of capitalism, prevents the need for place/product protection. This article seeks to concentrate on the Italian context.

France was the first to certify national butter, cheese, and wine products (Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée, AOC). Roquefort cheese was regulated by a parliamentary decree in the year 1411; the modern system was reinstated in France in 1919. Italians followed with their own GI organization, post-war, as a way of naming and protecting cultural property within a delicate economic structure. Geographical indications were created by the European Union with Regulation 2081/921, seeking to solve communication problems between and within countries, for consumers and producers, while promoting rural development. Italian GI goods earned €15.2 million in production value in 2018, contributing 18% of the national agricultural economy.

There are 550 Sicilian growers certified for Sicilian arancia rossa (blood red oranges, IGP); each farm cultivates the same three arancia rossa varieties (there are three) according to the same rules, and is overseen and organized by a central ruling body called a consorzio. Each consorzio reports to the Ministero delle Politiche Agricole Alimentari, Forestali e del Turismo (MIPAAF), (Ministry of Agricultural, Food and Forestry Policies). These fruits are monitored by the Italian government, and have protection within the European Union.

The GI system has broad and precise stated objectives:

  • To promote foods, beverages, and wines with specific characteristics, particularly those coming from less-known or rural areas;
  • To improve the income of farmers who make “genuine effort to improve quality”;
  • Sustaining populations in rural areas;
  • Providing clear and “not-misleading” information to consumers regarding product origin;
  • Preserving cultural and historical identity.

Place-defined products connect value between food and territory, thus guaranteeing the quality for which a consumer pays a premium. The idea is to further prevent unwanted third parties from using terms, tactics, and marketing that mislead and misrepresent. Italian pride and livelihoods remain in the balance.

There are currently three European Union schemes for geographic preservation:

EU quality schemes
The EU Protected Geographical Status logos.
[Fair use of copyrighted logos]

  1. Protected Designation of Origin (PDO, red symbol): the entire product must be traditionally and entirely manufactured (prepared, processed and produced) within the specific region.
  2. Protected Geographical Indication (PGI, blue symbol): the entire product must be traditionally and at least partially manufactured (prepared, processed or produced) within the specific region.
  3. Traditional Specialties Guaranteed (TSG): food must be of “specific character” and either the raw materials, production method, or processing must be done in exact area (consistent for a minimum of 30 years).

PDO apples
The PDO logo applied on “Val di Non” apples, which are coincidentally brand-named ‘Melinda’.) [Photo by Melinda King]

Gorgonzola DOP
Gorgonzola DOP sold in the United Kingdom, branded with both the PDO and the Consorzio logos.

Protected Italian Foods

Many of the GI items are known to anyone interested in Italian eating. The names of these items are synonymous with the places they come from, and the name alone acts as an Italian ambassador. Some of the expected items on the list: PDO Chianti Classico olive oil, PDO Lago di Garda olive oil, PDO Mortadella, Asiago cheese, PDO Basilico Genovese (think pesto), PDO Mozzarella di Bufala Campana, IGP Nocciola Piemonte (hazelnuts famed for chocolates).

Still, most of the items may be called peculiar or even uninteresting to those outside the places they are made. Some unexpected items: IGP Acciughe sotto sale del Mar Ligure (anchovies), IGP Carota dell’Altopiano del Fucino (“A carrot? That’s not sexy!”), Pane di Matera (specialized bread loaves from the Sassi cave town), three kinds of saffron, IGP Bresaola della Valtellina (dried horse meat is highly esteemed), four kinds of asparagus (Bassano, especially), five kinds of lemons, eight kinds of chestnuts, Bergamotto di Reggio Calabria essential oil, Kiwi Latina (an Italian kiwi? Yes, and it is magnificent!). Of course, this country is always surprising.

Asparagus
Asparagus, unexpected IGP. [Phtoto by Melinda King]
It is quite common to see the PDO or IGP acronym in a restaurant or gelateria, where the pride of place ingredients is translated to the consumer, as a promise of something real and delicious to be had. And with the force of 0 KM eating, Slow Foods, Bio, Organic, and artisanal products, GI label status is not only economic, but “cool.”

Pepite McDonalds
The Italian McDonald’s featuring IG products. [Screenshot from www.mcdonalds.it]

Cin Cin

Italian wines have an exceptional portion of Geographical Indications to endorsement. GI wines are a vital element, though controversial, in the business and character of Italian winemaking. Autochthonous (native) grapes represent distinctive zones and methods of viticulture, each with unique climactic features. Nerello Mascaelese is a grape that only grows on Mount Etna, in Sicily; this grape is authorized as one of the grapes to be used in the Etna DOC red wine. Nerello Mascalese has been growing in this place for centuries. Popular international varieties such as Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, or Syrah need no protection–nor do they have such a significant history, cultivation, or sensory connection to Italian soil.

In 1964, Italy established a series of laws to safeguard the brilliance and authenticity of their wines. The directives define wines by characteristics such as: type of grape(s) used, alcohol content, bottling, labeling, how long the wine is aged, how and when to harvest, who can work the fields, machinery and tools, irrigation, naming, and sales promotions. In the last decades, several modifications and changes have been made to original legislation, as the numbers of wines and regions grow to the list. The last addition, made in 2010, established four basic categories that read consistent with concurrent European Union wine regulations (2008-2009) — Italian wines GIs are categorized as:

  1. Vini (also known as ‘generic/table wines’): wines can be produced anywhere in the territory of the EU, label includes no certain indication of place origin (of grape varieties used or vintage); only the wine color is required to be listed on the bottle label (“Tavernello” often ‘house wine’). In some cases, however, table wines can have very high quality and be sought by connoisseurs that don’t need any official certifications (‘Super Tuscans’).
  2. Vini Varietali (Varietal Wines): generic wines that derive mostly (at least 85%) from one kind of certified ‘international (grown in many places)’ grape variety (Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Chardonnay, Merlot, Sauvignon Blanc, Syrah) or entirely from two or more of them; grape used or vintage may be shown on the label (e.g. “Merlot-Raboso” blend from Veneto).
  3. IGP (‘Protected Geographical Indication’ also known as IGT: ‘Typical Geographical Indication’): wines produced in a specific territory within Italy that follow precise regulations on allowed varieties, growing and vinification practices, organoleptic and chemical/physical characteristics, labeling instructions, among others (e.g. “Toscana IGT”).
  4. DOP (‘Protected Designation of Origin’) which includes two classes:
    • DOC (Controlled Designation of Origin) These wines must have been IGP wines for at least 5 years, and generally come from smaller regions within a certain IGP territory; far stricter regulations and focus on territorial personalities; a DOC wine can be promoted to DOCG after 10 years.
    • DOCG (Controlled and Guaranteed Designation of Origin) In addition to fulfilling DOC requisites, DOCG wines meet tighter analyses before going to market; they must also demonstrate a superior commercial value, and are linked with historical development.

Currently, there exist 332 DOCs (e.g. “Aleatico di Gradoli DOC”) and 73 DOCGs (e.g. “Amarone della Valpolicella DOCG”) bringing total to 405 DOPs. The financial aspects of the wine GI are momentous; a single bottle of DOCG Brunello di Montalcino can sell for up to $550. A scandal shook the Brunello consorzio in 2008 (known as “Brunellopoli”), where select winemakers were suspect for mixing lower quality wine grapes from other regions with local Sangiovese. Vineyards were quarantined and hundreds of thousands of bottles seized by authorities, facing millions of dollars in fines and years in prison. The issue was potential violation of GI purity rules, written by the Brunello Consorzio ruling body, and approved by the Italian Agricultural Ministry. Charges were ultimately dropped, and agreements to reinforce production principles were made between the Consorzio and winemakers.

Wine bottles display

I spent a number of years working in a wine business in California. When customers asked about Italian wines, they asked for wines by company or grape. Furthermore, their purchase decisions were generally based on price; customers were fascinated anytime I gave them a back story to the makers of the wine, the place it was made, or the types of grapes used. A wine was Chianti or Prosecco, but they did not know why. I would point to the labeling below the cork, when appropriate—if the bottle had the DOC or DOCG certification. “So the government says this wine is the best?” they would ask. No, I would shake my head and give a brief description of what GI represents. “Oh,” they would continue, “so the Italian government says this wine is the best?” they would repeat. Every time.

No, the government has no sensory opinion on the wines being made. This is a label that a company pays for, in a group with other companies in the same place, in order to show you, the consumer, that they mean business. The bottle of Vino Nobile di Montepulciano comes from vineyard lands that were budding vines hundreds of years before the pilgrims even built their boat. That is what the GI system would like us to remember. Currently, I am working in a vineyard/winery on Mount Etna, in Sicily. The DOC here is exceedingly proud of its work, and place (terra) is the language spoken in every glass. The soil changes from sandy to limestone, then lava rock, within a few meters, and vines stand fierce tests of weather and volcano. Add the salt of the sea and the shine of the sun, and it makes for an extraordinary natural beverage. The GI labels struggle to describe these things to an American wine shopper: philosophy of terra in an island borough founded by Greek settlers in 734 B.C.E.

Although GIs may promote a food or wine’s reputation, the level of quality is not guaranteed above similar food items. The perception of GIs is a matter of personal consumer taste and company/brand marketing, and this is an important concept to understand. For example, there may be six options of lemons at the local market. Two are certified GI status, from Siracusa (Sicilia) and Sorrento (Campania), and one from Spain. The other three, local fruits, do not list variety, but are stamped with the farm and city of origin. The GI status lemons cost twice as many Euros per kilo. Would you choose a locally made lemon, a higher priced GI, or the least expensive Spanish one?

How much sway does GI play, in the eyes of a shopper? Does it shift our priorities–taste preference, price, or place of being picked? Would you scrimp on lemons but splurge on cheese? How is this any different from brand name luxury Italian Gucci, Ferrari, or Armani? Normal people buy according to experience and reputation. If it works, they buy again. Italy, itself, has become a brand. The Italian GI is represented on the food or drink label with a small circular symbol (red and yellow or blue and yellow, depending on legal status), so we see as we buy. But these certifications are very expensive, and they require a long and thorough vetting process.

The symbol on the food (package, container, box, fruit seal, or wine label) will tell the buyer that it was made in according to the tradition of the area, by people who live there, with local or regional resources, in Italy by Italians. It will taste the way it is supposed to taste, according to history of the place, made flavorful by unique environmental conditions that only that place can provide. Terra, confirms that balsamic vinegar from Modena can only come from Modena. In this case, the Balsamic Vinegar Consorzio is a nearly secret society of older gentlemen who speak very little and carry out regular chemical “alchemical” analysis with small glass pipets and sensorial tastings. They meet in quiet rooms, and keep careful records. But they are extremely exclusive, and there is worry that the Modena vinegar community will soon disappear. It is not easy to pass on the legacy, or attract much excitement, as the work is difficult and unattractive to outsiders. This kind of work must be psychologically understood. But this is a common problem today, in Italy, with gentrification, separating family structures, and move towards tech jobs and city life.

Pomodoro di Pachino

The taste of Sicilian Pachino tomatoes cannot be reproduced. Heart-shaped Marostica cherries, from Veneto, are blessed by cool mountain breeze and warm sunshine. There is a cherry festival to honor the local fruits, as well as a famous chess game played with real-life human pawns in the Piazza degli Scacchi. The game dates back to 1454 when it was organized to settle a courtly duel between two noble lords competing for the hand of a lady. The history, the climate, and the science of place convene to create, in legal status, a true Italian flavor. Travelers can go to the game, enjoy the festival, and feel the life behind the GI, every September.

Parmigiano Reggiano cheese is a prime example of a Geographical Indication, demonstrating food as an art form. Outside Italy, “Parmesan” (originally a term from France to refer to Italian hard cheeses) is used as a generic name to identify a product (cheese-like, but not always cheese), that has a flavor reminiscent of the famed nutty bite that we know from true Parmigiano Reggiano. However, this copy food lacks the origin, and artisan producers. Parmigiano Reggiano has a singular history, taste, and identity that is unmistakably Italian. The Consorzio for Parmigiano Reggiano Cheese was formed in 1934; in 1996, Parmigiano Reggiano earned complete legal status in the EU. The Consorzio states that “the secret of its goodness originates in the place of origin, in the natural feed, our types of milk cows, the wind, the incline of our hills and goodness of grass, and in the high-quality milk with no additives.” The term “Parmesan” comes from geographical origin and means “of or from Parma.”

Parmigiano Reggiano is not only a good cheese, but also healthy and nutritious (named the official food of the International Space Station). After creation, the cheese wheels are subjected to a maturation period of at least twelve months (twenty-four for the most common version, thirty-six months and more for finer stravecchio), allowing Parmigiano Reggiano to gain its characteristic granular structure. It is made from raw cow’s milk (not pasteurized; there are 245,000 cows in the production area registered to make Parmigiano Reggiano) only grass and hay, not silage. After primary creation, the cheese is put into a brine bath of Mediterranean sea salt for about 22 days and then aged. At twelve months, each cheese is inspected by an expert grader who uses a hammer to tap the cheese and by sound detect undesirable cracks and voids. Cheeses that pass inspection are branded on the rind with an inspector logo. To guarantee each cheese and catalogue quality, each cheese wheel (40 kg) is stenciled by hand with:

  • The Parmigiano Reggiano DOP acronym and consorzio seal;
  • Identification number of dairy (there are 363 certified Parmigiano Reggiano dairies);
  • Production month and year;
  • An alphanumeric code identifying every single wheel.

Rounds of Parmigiano-Reggiano
Rounds of Parmigiano-Reggiano.
[Photo: Myrabella / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0]
Every cheese is inspected by the consorzio, to verify if they are worthy of the Parmigiano Reggiano title, then fire branded when PDO standards are satisfied. There is a well-documented 800-year history of production, as it was first made by Benedictine monks in the same hilly areas. The processes are fiercely controlled by the consorzio, and every cheese is crafted with care, for excellence.

The cultural meaning for this cheese is also economic: in 2018, 149,000 tons (3.65 million wheels) of it was made by 50,000 Italians in Parma, Reggio Emilia, Modena, Mantua (to the right of the Po river), and Bologna to the left of the Reno river). In the same year, the cheese had a €2.2 billion estimated turnover at consumption (51,900 tons of it being exported). This is a meaningful cheese! It is easy to understand how such powerful food would have imitators. The name, alone, is sacred to the Italian people.

In 2003, the EU responded to a complaint filed by the Parmigiano Reggiano consorzio concerning the improper use by certain German companies of the name “Parmesan” as a generic name, on cheeses that neither exhibited the peculiarities of Parmigiano-Reggiano PDO, nor came from the area of origin—thus manipulating consumers and damaging reputation. German authorities refused to intervene, and thus the case was taken before the European Court of Justice. However, the case was ultimately dismissed, as the EU court did not have enough evidence to demonstrate German misuse of the generic name.

However, problems arise when deciding which phrases to protect as GIs. For example, although “Parmigiano Reggiano” is a protected GI under U.S. law (in an agreement made with Italian authorities and the cheese consorzio), the name “parmesan” is not protected—and this term is ubiquitous in American grocery markets on products that Italians would find abhorrent and embarrassing. Shoppers might even see Parmesan Reggianito, a hard Argentinean cheese invented by Italian immigrants who left Italy for South America after the Wars. They wanted to make something that would remind them of their native Parmigiano Reggiano.

Every few years, the Italian Parmigiano Reggiano consorzio tries to file legal action against a company in North America, regarding “Parmesan,” but an outright purge of all such cheese products would be impossible, and expensive. The issue comes down to labeling, but mostly, quality.

In 2012, American FDA agents investigated a cheese factory in Pennsylvania, called “Castle Cheese.” They were making goods sold as “100% real Parmesan” across the country; the cheese was found to contain cut-rate substitutes, chemicals, and fillers, such as wood pulp and cellulose. The Castle Cheese president pled guilty and was spent one year in prison, with a fine of one hundred thousand dollars, but the case was made on health standards—not Parmigiano Reggiano GI name protection. Kraft, America’s well-known mass pasteurized cheese mass brand, has argued that their parmesan cheeses actually promote and encourage the Parmigiano Reggiano product, rather than compete with or mock it.

Thoughts on the TableThis is why a podcast like “Thoughts on the Table” is so important: there is a tremendous need for a cross-cultural conversation about Italian food, by Italians and non-Italians, in the name of taste, access, affordability, and integrity. I can only imagine what it was like for Paolo, experiencing his first visit to a Canadian grocery store. It would be like showing him a roller skate and trying to convince him it was a car. Food is passionate and evocative; what happens when it is reduced to a transaction? We want to talk about grandmother’s soothing pasta dishes, not packaging standards.

Place Matters

Food is grown, traded, prepared, and shared according to geographical context. What you eat, for most of human history, depends on where you live. This is a field of study known as the GEOGRAPHY OF FOOD, which includes complex patterns and relationships between “space” and “place.” Taste transforms during stages of preparation. Quality means safe and wholesome ingredients, and consistency. This is where Italy excels. It has a vast range of topography, proximity to water, varieties of microclimates, and brilliant, creative farmers and chefs. As one of my friends reminds me, “our government is terrible, jobs are hard to get, and our soccer team fails in the World Cup, but we have the best eating in the entire world to console these pains.” The Mediterranean hits the Alpine ranges, and leave centuries of collaboration, giving this nation gastronomical and agricultural superiority. Science proves this, as well as our own opinions. And while so many things did not “originate” in this country, they are respected and perfected here: tomatoes, wines, pastas, coffee, and chocolate.

Place does matter—very much. In terms of food and wine, terra is the philosophical combination of physical and spiritual “place” that gives flavor. By flavor, I mean “memory,” the kind of meal we remember years after the dishes have been washed.

Geographic Indication is a legally recognized certification of quality for place-driven taste. It happens by tradition–meaning what is produced, how, and by whom. The Italian government is very serious about protection and recognition. History is, in my opinion, based in agriculture, and agriculture reveals identity. GI status strives to keep identity, while preserving the taste of memory.

In the name of authenticity, GI hopes to maintain marketplace clarity. Every protected food is traced, tracked, and guaranteed. There are major efforts by law enforcement agencies to uphold the legitimacy of food products. Olive oil, wine, balsamic vinegar, cheese, and prosciutto are some of the Italian products that are most copied and sold by fraud, or produced in sub-standard ways. Livestock are RFID tagged, and documented from conception to market shelf, and full records of genetic breeding are kept by the consorzio. A vegetable, a cheese, or a grape can be tracked by DNA testing, to assure the place it has come from. Italy has 822 registered GI products, more than any other nation, of the worldwide total 3,036 (2018 ISMEA). “Made in Italy” is very big business.

Of course, the Geographical Indications are quite general, and work with ideals. It is basically a package of economic safeguards—copyright schemes made in a non-capitalistic system. The European Union oversees each country’s regulations, and promotes communication across the board. Italy does not always enjoy being a part of the Union, though it gains considerably from the Geographical Indication projects. Aside from the spiritual and cultural lauds from economic protection, the PDO and PGI symbols are basically there to pay people to make good raw materials (beans, sardines, and kiwis). Italy must also realize that certification means Italians competing with Italians, long before the rest of the world. As Italians are hungry for creative and economic innovation, they are, more than ever, hungry to strengthen the core of their traditions.

Cultural Meaning

Nostalgia is everything to an Italian palate. So are relationships. Although larger food chains and grocery stores are trending, there is still a strong and regular desire to shop locally. How do GI products interact with everyday eating? How can we trust that the story behind the label is true? Some Italians do not support the GI system; there are many barriers to entry (certification costs, registration, legal oversight, documentation, North versus South quarrels) that prevent many from participating. Others detest the European Union. In a conversation with my elderly neighbors, Don Donato and his wife, Luciana, I asked their view on Italian Geographical Indications. Don Donato was quick to answer: “We do it because France did it, and we always have to compete with France. We have Italian food in a French system. Even the supermarkets are from France (Carrefour, Auchan in Veneto)… the problem is that Italians are very bad organizers. We have the good food, and the government doesn’t trust us with it.

His wife does the food shopping, and said she never really noticed the food labels until last year, when she read about it in the paper. She generally keeps to the butcher, bakery, and produce shop in our small village, but goes to the shopping centers once or twice every month with her children’s families. Two things regularly astonish her: the amounts of products in the aisles, and the prices. Having choices, she told me, is very expensive. “If I want lentils from Umbria, we will go there. I am not about to pay so much for a bag of lentils. These are things that are made very well in my own area.” She told me that food is only as good as the person making it, and she can make any lentil taste Italian.

GI advertisement
GI brands advertisement in Italy.

Can you taste the difference between a GI product and a non-GI product When it is late in the evening, and someone has prepared a beautiful Italian meal, simple and warm—what is the role of Geographical Indications for regional foods?

If my Swedish friend had known, at the least, to look for red and blue symbols on olive oil labels, his search would have been much simplified. He was looking for the best representation of an Italian olive oil, and those certification marks would have spoken for the people, processes, and places that make the oil authentic—as so the label would ideally have us believe. Later, I curiously asked which bottle he had selected from the large Roman grocery store. He laughed when he told me, “I don’t remember the name, but I bought an expensive one.” He continued, “But when I got home, I went to use it and saw, written right there on the backside: 100% California Olives.”

These contradictions make Italian food fascinating. The conversation continues…

Top 15 highest value (by production numbers) Italian Geographical Indications, 2018 (source: ISMEA—Qualivita)

Product Minimum value 2016 Minimum value 2017 % Change
Parmigiano Reggiano DOP €1.123 €1.343 +19,5%
Grana Padano DOP 1.293 1.293 0,0%
Prosciutto di Parma DOP 816 850 +4,1%
Mozzarella di Bufala Campana DOP 372 391 +5,0%
Aceto balsamico di Modena IGP 381 390 +2,5%
Gorgonzola DOP 316 356 +12,8%
Prosciutto di San Daniele DOP 293 304 +3,8%
Mortadella Bologna IGP 326 301 -7,4%
Bresaola della Valtellina IGP 220 224 +2,2%
Pecorino Romano DOP 251 155 -38,0%
Pasta di Gragnano IGP 107 115 +7,2%
Speck Alto Adige IGP 100 109 +9,4%
Asiago DOP 95 98 +2,8%
Mela Alto Adige IGP 132 88 -33,2%
Mela Val di Non DOP 75 65 -14,0%

Wine

Product Minimum value 2016 Minimum value 2017 % Change
Prosecco DOP €629 €631 +0,3%
Conegliano Valdobbiadene – Prosecco DOP 161 184 +14,0%
Delle Venezie IGP 169 114 -32,7%
Asti DOP 103 107 +4,0%
Terre Siciliane IGP 82 107 +29,9%
Amarone della Valpolicella DOP 83 103 +23,4%
Alto Adige DOP 82 100 +22,3%
Chianti Classico DOP 112 98 -12,6%
Barolo DOP 79 89 +12,3%
Valpolicella Ripasso DOP 63 86 +35,9%
Chianti DOP 87 81 -6,7%
Veneto IGP 101 79 -21,9%
Brunello di Montalcino DOP 61 72 +18,3%
Montepulciano d’Abruzzo DOP 67 63 -6,0%
Trentino DOP 50 51 +1,7%

Source References

Recommended Further Reading

NOTE: This article’s featured image is a view of Govone, Cuneo, from its castle. [Photo by Paolo Rigiroli].

[Thoughts on the Table – 70] Define Culture Shock – Diana Zahuranec’s Take on Relocating and Moving Back

Diana Zahuranec is back on the show to join the conversation on culture shock – whether it’s associated with relocating, and whether it can also occur when going back. During the episode, Diana shares her experience following her six-year relocation to Italy and her subsequent return to the United States. She also analyzes the life in New York City, where she is now based, in contrast with suburban living in the USA, and in surprising accordance with the Italian lifestyle she was used to in Turin.

This episode’s discussion refers to Diana’s article titled There and Back Again: The transition from Italy back to the USA.

Diana blogs at dianazahuranec.com and can also be found on Twitter @zrdiana as well as on Instagram and LinkedIn.

Diana and I would love to hear your thoughts on this subject! What is your definition of culture shock? Have you experienced it? Was it associated with a relocation? Please add your comments 🙂

   

Eight Years of Blogging, Five of Podcasting

Hello everyone! Today this blog turns eight years old, prompting me to give an (overdue) update.

As you have heard in the latest podcast, and seen on “the social channels,” I have some big news. After spending over 17 years in Vancouver, two months ago I moved to England! Precisely, to the town of Guildford, 30 miles south-west of London. I won’t go too much into the reasons for the relocation, other than saying that they are both personal and professional, and that I am super excited about being here!

Guildford
Guildford – High Street

If you wonder what’s going to happen to this blog now that I am much closer to Italy and perhaps no longer bombarded by the worst Italian Food “interpretations,” please rest assured that I will continue the project! Even though England’s proximity to Italy, along with a much reduced Italian-American influence should result in a much closer rendition, Italian cuisine is still foreign, and as such, subject to adaptation to the local palate, and I have started to see this already. But in any case, what I’m interested in the most is food culture (and I think you are interested in it too!); England has so much to offer on that front, and I hope to dive into it over time.

Cream Tea
Cream-tea: fruit scones, clotted cream, jam, accompanied by tea, of course!

For now, all I can do is share my first impressions. I may be stating the obvious, but, to me, the most noticeable difference between England and western Canada is that in England, the weight of history has resulted in a stronger national identity. However much I love Vancouver’s openness towards all cultures, it’s fascinating to now be exposed to more rooted customs, which may be even stronger in a small town such as Guildford. Moreover, it’s exciting to have the opportunity to explore and discover, for instance, that pretty much all cafes serve cream-tea, that the only fruit in fruit scones is raisins (or should I say sultanas?) and that crusty bread may be called a ‘bloomer’ (having no reason to be called “Italian!”)

I will talk more about British culture and traditions going forward, in comparison to the Italian and North American ones.

Now, onto a brief retrospective on this last year of blogging, or podcasting, as I should say. With only one article published, no recipes (boo!), and eight podcast episodes, it appears that I have been dedicating myself almost exclusively to Thoughts on the Table. I have certainly enjoyed producing each episode, along with my wonderful guests (some returning and some new): from the planning, to the recording, to the editing. If you missed any of them, here is a summary:

060 – The Basic Rules of Italian Food with David Scott Allen

DavidReturning guest, food blogger and photographer David Scott Allen returns on the show to discuss The Basic Rules of Italian Food, such as that no Italian would dare to cut spaghetti with a knife, or to have a cappuccino after a meal!

061 – Rediscovering Artisan Craftsmanship and Ancient Grains, with Alida Zamparini

AlidaFood blogger Alida Zamparini returns to give us an update on her latest recipes and blogging trips. As you will hear, Alida has been focusing on regional Italian products and artisan craftsmanship, such as the production of ricotta in the Friulian Alps. Alida also introduces her passion for ancient grains such as spelt and Kamut Khorasan.

062 – Introducing Enzo De Chiara from The Italian Guest

EnzoAn interview with blogger Enzo De Chiara during which he explains his link to the United States and how he started his blog to document his food, travel, and lifestyle experiences across from his hometown of Bergamo (in northern Italy) and his adoptive city of Columbia, Missouri.

063 – Italian and Italian-American Christmas Traditions, with Nick Zingale

ChristmasA Christmas episode with my friend and recurring guest Nick Zingale. In the episode, he describes how his Italian-American family celebrated Christmas over the years, with a special mention of the Feast of the Seven Fishes.

064 – Introducing Crazy Italians and Their Video Series on Italian Food

Crazy Italians RestaurantYvette, Giampaolo, and 9-year-old Azzurra describe how they started producing short videos to promote their Memphis restaurant and help introduce continental Italian food to North America.

065 – Introducing Foodiamo – the Italian Guide to Italian Food

FoodiamoFoodiamo’s founder Raffaele Asquer and chief editor Roberto Croci talk about the Foodiamo project and how it expanded from guide to Italian food in Los Angeles to online magazine of global appeal.

066 – Introducing Giuseppe D’Angelo from Pizza Dixit

GiuseppeNeapolitan born and raised Giuseppe D’Angelo describes how he made a mission for himself to discover the best Neapolitan pizzerias around the world. In his blog, he praises how pizza makers outside of Naples can obtain an excellent product despite operating in less than ideal conditions.

067 – The Premise of Italian Cuisine, with Melinda King

MelindaWriter and editor Melinda King talks about her background in food and wine science and history and shares her view on the true nature of Italian food with an insightful analysis that transcends its well-known allure.

Italian Words Gone Wrong – 6 Mistakes Native Italians Don’t Make

For a narrated version of this article, please check out: Italian Words Gone Wrong – Mistakes on the Menu

Even though Italian food is prominent in North America as well as other English speaking countries, restaurant menus often use Italian words in ways that are not even remotely close to what would sound natural to a native Italian. And it isn’t just because of spelling mistakes, the grammatical and logical use of Italian words is also frequently incorrect.

This post started as a chat with two Twitter friends, Cecilia Razelli (@cocci_ge) and Carlo Settembrini (@csettembrini.) Cecilia found it amusing that I titled one of my articles “Formaggio Cheese,” given that she had noted a similar trend with constructs like “salsiccia sausage” and “prosciutto ham” (if you don’t see why Italians can find this amusing, keep reading!) Then Carlo joined the conversation, expanding to other types of mistakes that English speaking people make when using Italian words. We kept chatting on Twitter for a bit, then we moved the conversation to a shared Google Document, which eventually became the outline for this article. I would like to thank Cecilia and Carlo for engaging in this collaboration – literally, this post wouldn’t have happened without you!

To help illustrate the variety of errors that are commonly made when non-experienced Italian speakers use the Italian language, we grouped the mistakes according to their nature into six distinct families. So, let’s get started!

1. Spelling

When native Italians look for authentic Italian restaurants abroad, they often assess their authenticity merely on the number of spelling mistakes they can spot on the menus. Since the Italian language is mostly phonetic (i.e. written as pronounced,) there are no spelling competitions in Italy – spelling is generally not an issue over there(1)! This is why spelling mistakes stand out even more to the Italians.

Some spelling mistakes seem to reflect the way Italian words tend to be pronounced by English natives. Take ‘focaccia’ as an example: its misspelled counterpart ‘foccacia’ is gaining popularity because it’s closer to how it sounds in English. At other times, alternate English spellings appear to reflect the dialect of the first Italian-Americans. Words like ‘Cappicolla’ and ‘Macaroni,’ for instance, bear clear signs of a southern Italian heritage as opposed to their national counterparts: ‘Capicollo’ and ‘Maccheroni.’ Other words, like ‘linguini’ and ‘zucchini,’ reflect a combination of causes: their dialectal origin and the way the correctly spelled ‘linguine’ and ‘zucchine’ sound when read with an English accent.

To a native Italian, it’s bad enough to hear a misspelled word, but things get even worse when the alternate spelling has a different meaning in Italian. For instance, ‘panini’ is sometimes misspelled as ‘pannini.’ Now, while ‘panini’ is a diminutive of “pane,” which means ‘bread,’ the word ‘pannini’ is a diminutive of ‘panni,’ which is equivalent to “items of clothing” or “rags.” So now you know why a native Italian may get a giggle when they read that the chef’s special is the “house pannini.”

2. Plural vs. singular

Even when spelled correctly, Italian words may be misused in the context of a sentence because of an incorrect “grammatical number.” A classic example of this mistake is using the word ‘panini’ (which is the plural of ‘panino’) to refer to a single sandwich. It’s not clear why the plural ‘panini’ entered the English language instead of the singular ‘panino,’ although one theory is that ‘panini’ is assonant with other Italian-sounding words like ‘linguini’ and ‘zucchini.’ Regardless, a sentence like “I’d like a panini” sounds to a native Italian as wrong as “I’d like a sandwiches.” And it goes without saying that the word “paninis” doesn’t make any sense to a native Italian since it’s a double-plural. The same mistake occurs when ‘biscotti’ is used to refer to a single cookie (in Italian it’s the plural of ‘biscotto.’) The word ‘gelati’ instead is often used interchangeably with the word ‘gelato,’ when in reality it’s its plural form and should be used when referring to two or more Italian ice creams.

When using the English language, however, nobody is expected to use Italian grammar. Therefore, words like ‘paninos,’ ‘gelatos,’ and ‘pizzas’ are perfectly acceptable. In fact, Italians do the same with English words: they adopt the singular form and use it interchangeably both as singular and as plural (“un computer, due computer” = ‘one computer, two computers.’)

3. Feminine vs. masculine

In the Italian language, nouns have gender. Moreover, articles and adjectives must match the gender of the nouns they are used with. Because of this, besides knowing if nouns are plural or singular, in order to write proper Italian one must know the gender of nouns. Luckily, most of the times it’s easy to tell if a word is masculine or feminine: if it ends in ‘a’ it’s feminine; if it ends in ‘o’ it’s masculine (this for singular words, for plural words it’s ‘e’ for feminine, ‘i’ for masculine.) So, for example, because ‘pizza’ is feminine, one should say ‘pizza classica,’ not ‘pizza classico.’ And it’s ‘pasta ai gamberi,’ not ‘pasta alle gamberi.’ Consistency is important!

4. Adjective vs. noun

Many Italian dishes bear colorful names also thanks to the use of descriptive adjectives. As an example, ‘Bolognese’ means “from the city of Bologna.” When native Italians use words like ‘bolognese’ to refer to the famous kind of ragù (a generic word for meat sauce), they say “alla bolognese,” meaning “in the style of the city of Bologna.” Although it’s acceptable to say “Bolognese sauce” (“salsa bolognese,”) it doesn’t make sense to say: “I’ve had pasta with Bolognese” (leaving out the noun.) The sentence: “I’ve had Bolognese pasta” is also likely incorrect since it means “I’ve had pasta from the city of Bologna” with no reference to its sauce. Worse yet, if you order “a Bolognese” in a restaurant, it will sound like you are ordering a person from Bologna – that would be a very dubious kind of meat sauce!

Similarly, ‘Parmigiano’ or ‘Parmigiana’ means “from the city of Parma” (referred to a masculine/feminine subject respectively.) As for the famous eggplant dish, however, it’s equally correct to say “melanzane alla parmigiana” (“parmesan eggplants”) or “parmigiana di melanzane” (“parmesan of eggplants,”) the latter using ‘parmigiana’ as a noun.

And to conclude this category of mistakes, let’s not forget that the word ‘balsamic’ is an adjective, and it means “curative,” or “having the same properties of a conditioner” (‘conditioner’ = ‘balsamo’ in Italian.) It makes no sense to an Italian to use ‘balsamico’ without a noun or a pronoun. So, you can’t have anything like “I’ll have balsamic on my salad.” Balsamic what?

5. Generic vs. specific

‘Formaggio cheese,’ ‘salsiccia sausage,’ ‘prosciutto ham’ don’t make sense to a native Italian because they are redundant. ‘Formaggio’ is Italian for cheese, ‘salsiccia’ is Italian for sausage, ‘prosciutto (cotto(2))’ is Italian for ham. So, in Italy, all you are saying when you say ‘salsiccia sausage’ is “sausage sausage,” or “‘ham ham,” “cheese cheese.” We know the prospect of Italian food is exciting, but just one term will do!

As for the origin of this construct, it may come from the North American practice to use generic product names combined with specific adjectives. For instance, people say “cheddar cheese,” or “tuna fish,” when really ‘cheddar’ or ‘tuna’ can’t be anything other than ‘cheese’ and ‘fish’ respectively.

Interestingly, however, ‘gelato ice cream’ is technically correct since gelato is not exactly Italian for ice cream: it’s a particular kind of ice cream (denser, less sweet, and less fat.) Because of this, it may be justifiable to use ‘gelato ice cream’ as a marketing strategy to indicate a specialty product (likely to be sold at a higher price.)

Also technically correct is ‘espresso coffee’ since ‘espresso’ is indeed descriptive of a distinct kind of coffee extraction. In Italian coffee bars, however, people just call it ‘espresso,’ or even simply ‘coffee’ since the coffee sold in coffee bars is almost exclusively espresso. When ordering a coffee, Italians also often shorten the name when they order an espresso variation, which comes with its own descriptive adjective. Examples are ‘corto’ (short), ‘macchiato’ (stained or spotted with steamed milk,) ‘corretto’ (corrected with liquors or spirits,) etc. Sometimes they even leave out the noun altogether and order directly a ‘macchiato,’ which ironically also happens in North America.

The construct: ‘ricotta cheese,’ instead, is completely wrong since ricotta is technically not even cheese (being it made from whey, and therefore considered just a dairy product, or ‘latticino’ in Italian.)

In the Italian language, the following are generic names as well:

  • ‘Panino’ is the generic name for ‘bread roll’ or ‘sandwich,’ whether grilled or not.
  • ‘Biscotto’ is the generic name for ‘cookie,’ though Italian cookies tend to be crunchy, rather than chewy.
  • ‘Antipasto’ is the generic translation of ‘appetizer.’ Not a particular kind of appetizer made of pickled vegetables, olives, and often tuna, or (worse) this “invention” from Kraft.
  • ‘Latte’ is the generic name for milk, cold milk to be precise – which is what you would get if you ordered a ‘latte’ in Italy. The proper name for the espresso-based drink is ‘latte macchiato’ (steamed milk stained or spotted with coffee.)

6. Food vs. preparation

To end the list of mistake families, we can’t leave out one of the most mysterious ones exemplified by the Italian-American dish called Shrimp Scampi. Scampi, plural of scampo, is a crustacean similar to a small lobster. For some reason, it also became the name of a preparation (based on tomato, garlic, and white wine) that is generally used for shrimp and other crustaceans. But if “Shrimp Scampi” makes no sense to a native Italian because it’s essentially “Shrimp Shrimp,” Olive Garden’s Chicken Scampi makes even less sense, since it’s like saying “Chicken Shrimp.”

Sometimes Shrimp Scampi is instead used to refer to a crustacean, possibly just to make a dish sound more mysterious, or “elevated,” and definitely more “Italian.” Dishes like “Linguine with Shrimp Scampi” from “Barefoot Contessa” Ina Garten are a clear indication of how mainstream this misconception has gone. It goes without saying that actual Scampi are nowhere in the ingredients.

To make matters worse, dictionaries such as the Merriam-Webster define ‘scampi’ as “a usually large shrimp; also: a large shrimp prepared with a garlic-flavored sauce,” also reporting ‘scampi’ as a singular noun with an invariant plural form. Fortunately, heroic bloggers like my friend Frank Fariello set the record straight by correctly explaining the naming issue behind this dish.

To end the category and this article, ‘Calamari’ is another example where non-native Italians may confuse an ingredient with its preparation. Whereas in Italian it generically means ‘squid,’ outside of Italy, and especially in North America, it refers to its deep-fried ring-shaped slices.


(1) In some regions of Italy, Italians make certain kinds of spelling mistakes due to how words sound in their dialects. As an example, those who speak a Venetian dialect tend to drop double consonants. In southern Italy, instead, double consonants tend to be added where they don’t belong (e.g. Carabbinieri instead of Carabinieri.)

(2) In Italy, there are two kinds of prosciutto: ‘cotto’ (“cooked” similar to ham) and ‘crudo’ (“raw, cured.”)

Seven Years of Blogging, Four of Podcasting

Hi! Here I am celebrating seven years of blogging and looking back at the past 12 months, as I do at this time every summer. Thank you for reading this post. Your choice to dedicate a bit of your precious time to me and to my work is humbling and makes me proud to be a blogger!

So, what happened in the last 12 months? The podcast Thoughts on the Table continued to be my main focus and has become a great passion. I enjoy every aspect of it, from the planning stages, through the ever-exciting moment of the recording, to the post-production and its magic. But among everything, I especially love the fact that the podcast allows me to work together with amazing people around the world and meet them face-to-face on Skype. In the last 12 months, I published 12 episodes with new and returning guests, including food writer Mark Preston, food bloggers Linda (Signorina Spaghetti) and Ale Gambini (A Queen in the Kitchen), restaurateur Simon Pagotto, as well as travel blogger and storyteller Nick Zingale, who has quickly become a recurring guest. This year, the podcast also hit an important milestone, its 50th episode! For the occasion, I was joined by my buddy Jason (with whom I started this series four years ago) for a special episode dedicated to balance in food.

Celebrating seven years of blogging with my new friends at The Happy Herd Sanctuary in Aldergrove, British Columbia
Celebrating 7 years of blogging with my new friends at The Happy Herd Sanctuary in Aldergrove, BC.

The series has since hit 59 episodes, and still counting! I have already started working on new outlines with future guests and I look forward to organizing many more. If you’d like to be on the show, I’d love to work with you on themes that you find meaningful — please contact me for more information. BTW, the podcast is now available on Google Podcasts and on Stitcher, besides of course iTunes, and direct playback on the Internet Archive and on this blog.

In other news, this past year I have posted three new recipes: Buckwheat Gnocchi with Mascarpone Tomato Sauce, Mascarpone Cream as the perfect accompaniment to Panettone, and Piadina Romagnola, the iconic flatbread of the Adriatic region of Italy.

Mascarpone Tomato Gnocchi Mascarpone Cream on Panettone Piadina Romagnola

I also wrote an autobiographical article on my first impressions as I arrived in Vancouver, Canada, 16 years ago, to discover a whole new culinary world: An Italian in Canada – From the Food of Italy to “Italian Food.”

“ I had discovered a parallel universe! A pretty unappetizing one […] the portions were too big, the pasta was either drowning in sauce or looked pale and overcooked, and the sauces looked overly rich.”

Finally, I’d like to thank all of you who follow me on the various social networks. Thanks for joining the discussion and for helping me preserve authentic, continental Italian food and its main qualities of simplicity, balance, and flavor. If you don’t already, please follow me on Instagram (where I also share my recommendations for good food in Vancouver or in Italy, and occasional pictures of my gorgeous cat); Facebook (where I sometimes take a provocative stance against the horrible Italian food aberrations I come across); Twitter (where I occasionally also share random thoughts of some wit); and of course on the blog itself, Disgraces on the Menu.

As always, your feedback is really important to me — if you have any corrections, suggestions, or ideas for future collaborations, please contact me! Thanks again.