The morning of our cooking class, we approached the silver-haired concierge I had developed a slight crush on. Our ride was late. “Prego,” he said. Not a question or a welcome, but more of an announcement. I thought he didn’t like us because I had openly stared at him upon our arrival. Daniel thought it was because we were American. Either way that morning he took our travel voucher and called after our ride, in fast, terse Italian. I liked the sound of our last name in its native tongue and wondered if it would fly at home off my American lips.
With found time, we sat in the lobby and ordered a coffee, surprised when it came out as espresso in demitasses with a plate of sugar cookies. This is “caffe” in Italy. They call our coffee Americano. Simona stood before us and introduced herself as our guide. She led us out front to her Volkswagen subcompact. It was just us.
With found time, we sat in the lobby and ordered a coffee, surprised when it came out as espresso in demitasses with a plate of sugar cookies. This is “caffe” in Italy. They call our coffee Americano. Simona stood before us and introduced herself as our guide. She led us out front to her Volkswagen subcompact. It was just us.
“It’ll be about an hour, so get comfortable,” she said as Daniel folded himself into the front seat. I silently wondered if I would look back on this moment with regret. In general, it’s probably not terrific operational security to get into the car of a stranger in a foreign country. While I was thinking this, Daniel was making small talk. He learned Simona is a temporarily out-of-work film producer who is moonlighting as a cooking instructor. She’s friends with the chef, Fabio. When Daniel mentioned coffee, she said, “I do not like Italian coffee—it’s too strong. I prefer Starbucks.” She’s part of a Facebook group trying to bring the chain to Rome.
Simona wound us out of downtown and into the countryside. We made our way to Mazzano Romano, a medieval village. When I stepped out of the car, I spun around in slow motion. We were about 1,000 feet up in the lush green hills, overlooking a forest and river. I got out my camera and struggled with what to shoot. It was all beautiful. We bought fresh zucchini, cherry tomatoes, eggplant, and a potato from the vegetable stand in town, where we tasted enormous green peas from the pod. We walked through winding cobblestone alleys to Il Drago, the at-once elegant and rustic home where we would be cooking.
Simona wound us out of downtown and into the countryside. We made our way to Mazzano Romano, a medieval village. When I stepped out of the car, I spun around in slow motion. We were about 1,000 feet up in the lush green hills, overlooking a forest and river. I got out my camera and struggled with what to shoot. It was all beautiful. We bought fresh zucchini, cherry tomatoes, eggplant, and a potato from the vegetable stand in town, where we tasted enormous green peas from the pod. We walked through winding cobblestone alleys to Il Drago, the at-once elegant and rustic home where we would be cooking.
The kitchen had a stone countertop and sink and actual tree trunks exposed and supporting the ceiling. Simona decided “anyone can make chicken or veal. Let’s make pasta.” We made pici from water and flour, ravioli from egg and flour, and gnocchi from a baked potato and flour. And now, how to cook like an Italian. Not every Italian, just this one we had the pleasure of meeting. Click for more photos and to read tips Simona taught us.
1. Pair the right pasta with the right sauce. Spaghetti is a poor match for Bolognese or ragu because it can’t really support the heft. It’s better with tagliatelle or fettuccine. Likewise, stuffed, flavorful pasta should be paired with a light sauce that will complement but not overpower it.
2. Don’t let onions burn. When sautéing onions, if the fat melts before the onions are cooked, add a bit of water to keep them from burning.
3. You don’t have to chop garlic. Heat olive oil and add the whole clove of garlic, let simmer, then remove it. The oil will be infused with garlic, but you won’t have to fear burning it while you cook the rest of your dish. This tip was a revelation for me because it eliminates the need to chop garlic, a task I hate. Just smash the clove, remove the skin and throw it in.
4. Rethink your Balsamic vinegar. Fresh strawberries are delicious when macerated in balsamic vinegar and a bit of raw sugar. Just slice them, throw a few dashes of vinegar (cheap is fine for this task) and a sprinkle of Turbinado and you’re done.
2. Don’t let onions burn. When sautéing onions, if the fat melts before the onions are cooked, add a bit of water to keep them from burning.
3. You don’t have to chop garlic. Heat olive oil and add the whole clove of garlic, let simmer, then remove it. The oil will be infused with garlic, but you won’t have to fear burning it while you cook the rest of your dish. This tip was a revelation for me because it eliminates the need to chop garlic, a task I hate. Just smash the clove, remove the skin and throw it in.
4. Rethink your Balsamic vinegar. Fresh strawberries are delicious when macerated in balsamic vinegar and a bit of raw sugar. Just slice them, throw a few dashes of vinegar (cheap is fine for this task) and a sprinkle of Turbinado and you’re done.
5. How to make a cream sauce without cream: while your pasta cooks, melt butter (1/4 cup or so) over medium heat. Add grated parmesan cheese and stir until melted. Then, take a ladle full of still-hot pasta cooking water and stir in until incorporated and to desired consistency (should be thin). We had this over our homemade zucchini and ricotta ravioli and it was heaven.
6. How to make Amatriciana sauce: We had this with our homemade pici, and Simona told us it’s her favorite sauce of all. Render pancetta or any unsmoked ham (NOT BACON) and onion in olive oil over medium high heat. Add a can of tomatoes (any kind) and a can of water (whatever amount you make, it’s a 1:1 ratio tomatoes to water). Add dried chili peppers (1-3, to taste). Let simmer for at least an hour and top with a sprinkle of pecorino cheese. Then tell me it’s not the best sauce you’ve ever had. Well, you could, but I wouldn’t believe you.
7. How to make a delicious, fresh tomato sauce in 10 minutes: Start with a bunch of ripe cherry tomatoes, halved, and lightly fried (not battered) strips of eggplant. Sauté them in olive oil for 10 minutes, smooshing the tomatoes a bit. Add coarse salt to taste and fresh torn basil at the end. That’s it. Simona forgot to add garlic, but we didn't even miss it. We had it with our fresh gnocchi and it was Daniel’s favorite. I can’t wait to make this all summer with the bounty from our CSA.
8. Gnocchi shouldn’t be dense. I was not thrilled at the prospect of making gnocchi, since the only types I’d ever tried were gummy or dense. We had a fresh potato, and we learned gnocchi is better made from “old potatoes you forgot about.” I said, “In that case, I was born to make gnocchi!” Old potatoes can be boiled into submission, but we baked ours, skin on. Then we removed the skin while still hot (a job for my husband) and mashed it manually, adding flour until it became silky. Simona’s father, also a master gnocchi chef, adds egg yolk, but Fabio says no. “I have to ask Fabio why. I don't understand it.” When we tasted it, it was light and delicious. Simona said, “Eh, is better than I thought.”
8. Gnocchi shouldn’t be dense. I was not thrilled at the prospect of making gnocchi, since the only types I’d ever tried were gummy or dense. We had a fresh potato, and we learned gnocchi is better made from “old potatoes you forgot about.” I said, “In that case, I was born to make gnocchi!” Old potatoes can be boiled into submission, but we baked ours, skin on. Then we removed the skin while still hot (a job for my husband) and mashed it manually, adding flour until it became silky. Simona’s father, also a master gnocchi chef, adds egg yolk, but Fabio says no. “I have to ask Fabio why. I don't understand it.” When we tasted it, it was light and delicious. Simona said, “Eh, is better than I thought.”
9. Pasta waits for no man. One of my favorite things about all the pasta I ate in Italy (and I ate a lot) was its texture. There was a major bite to it—it was chewier than what I'm accustomed to at home. Here's why: Cook fresh pasta only until it floats and dried pasta for two minutes less than what the instructions say. Then, drain it and place it in your (hot and ready) sauce to let it cook there for the final two minutes. This ensures that the pasta does not overcook and that it has a chance to absorb the sauce.
10. If you want more fiber, eat more vegetables. I can’t say I’m totally on board with this one. I asked Simona what she thought of whole wheat pasta. An innocent question, I thought. Though she was friendly and easy going in general (except for when I almost ruined the ravioli while clumsily threading it through the pasta machine), this prompted a tirade about how only pasta made with durum flour is worth eating and that the absolute lowest quality pasta she will cook with is Barilla. She ticked off a sample menu of pasta and noted that you could have a pasta dinner for under 400 calories including salad. “Why do you eat this kind of pasta, so you can go to the bathroom? Eh, eat more vegetables.” Thankfully, I asked this as a hypothetical question and Daniel, bless him, did not sell me out. We also learned her favorite dry pasta is Garafalo. On a related note: when we took our tour of Chianti, the tour guide mentioned that olive oil, cold pressed from the trees we walked past in Tuscany is “fat free.” Gotta love that Italian patriotism.
10. If you want more fiber, eat more vegetables. I can’t say I’m totally on board with this one. I asked Simona what she thought of whole wheat pasta. An innocent question, I thought. Though she was friendly and easy going in general (except for when I almost ruined the ravioli while clumsily threading it through the pasta machine), this prompted a tirade about how only pasta made with durum flour is worth eating and that the absolute lowest quality pasta she will cook with is Barilla. She ticked off a sample menu of pasta and noted that you could have a pasta dinner for under 400 calories including salad. “Why do you eat this kind of pasta, so you can go to the bathroom? Eh, eat more vegetables.” Thankfully, I asked this as a hypothetical question and Daniel, bless him, did not sell me out. We also learned her favorite dry pasta is Garafalo. On a related note: when we took our tour of Chianti, the tour guide mentioned that olive oil, cold pressed from the trees we walked past in Tuscany is “fat free.” Gotta love that Italian patriotism.
Not to discount the rest of our fantastic trip, but this was the highlight. We couldn’t even be let down by the driving rain that prevented us from visiting the neighboring village markets and waterfalls, even when Simona, recklessly navigating the flooded roads admitted, “I want to get to the highway. I don’t feel safe.” We didn’t even lament long about Daniel’s lost sunglasses (the Kenneth Cole ones I got him several birthdays ago on a killer discount) or that we never received the aprons we were promised. It was a day we will always remember. We bought dried chili peppers and pasta in Rome and are making plans for our first pasta making party. But for now, though we’ve been home 10 days, the pasta hangover persists.
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