5 Passports: Cooking with Paola

I’m not sure what to say about this experience, other than it will be on my top 10-list of greatest memories from Italy. Bret graciously did me a favor and asked Bruno if I could watch Paola prepare dinner for tonight’s meal. I had been in our “apartment” with the kids for awhile, and Bret knew that I would love to escape for a few minutes to observe some real Italian cooking. What a treat!

As I entered the farmhouse kitchen, I tried to ask Paola (in Italian) if it would be okay for me to watch her prepare dinner. I didn’t want to get in her way because I knew there would be other guests at the meal, and she already looked very busy. Paola doesn’t speak any English, but she understood my request and waved me in. Not only did I get my first real Italian cooking class, I also had an intensive introductory lesson in speaking the language.

Paola grabbed one of her piles of dough and quickly rolled it out into a 14” circle. She drizzled it with her own olive oil, immulsified with two red chili peppers. Next came a sprinkling of sea salt and then a few large sprigs of rosemary from her garden. “Voila! Andiamo,”she said, and I followed her out the door to her wood burning oven out back. She had lit the forno over two hours ago. It was swirling with flames and she said the temperature was now ready for cooking. Paola strategically placed her seasoned dough in front of the flames and signaled me back to the kitchen. We had two more foccacia to make. She handed me the rolling pin and dusted the table with flour. “Pronto?” she asked. I tried nervously to roll out the dough. I was a little embarrassed at my lack of baking experience. With a blob of dough only 6” in length, it was quite obvious my skills were lacking. We shared a laugh and she quickly stretched the dough to it’s desirable size.

The minutes turned into hours, and before I knew it, I had spent the last 3 hours in the kitchen of a woman whose heart and soul are the very foundation of its walls. Paola quickly explains to me her two main courses: duck and “black” chicken. Black chicken, she tells me, originates from Egypt. (I am unsure of it’s English translation). Both fowl are stuffed with garlic and rosemary sprigs. The duck is placed on a rather large heaping of sea salt. It is also covered with a thick layer of salt on top. The chicken only has a scant dusting of salt. She then whisks the pans away to roast in the wood burning oven for over an hour. Everything tastes better when it is cooked slowly, she adds.

Alicia, her helper, has peeled and cut potatoes. They too, get roasted in a pan with olive oil, rosemary, salt and garlic. Now it’s time to make pasta. I watch (and drool) because I have never witnessed anyone making pasta before, and in such an authentic setting! Alicia weighs the “00” Farina, mounds it on her board, adds salt, and then cracks her fresh goose and chicken eggs into the center. She then works the flour into the eggs. After about 30-40 minutes of kneading, Alicia flattens and cuts the dough in a pasta machine. No job for the faint-hearted!

There is also the antipasto dish which consists of salvia leaves, zucchini, and sanbuco flowers. They have been dipped into a mixture of farina, salt, mineral water and lime juice. They are deep-fried and served warm. Benissimo! Bruno steps in to prepare an aubegine, tomato, and olive sauce for the pasta. Again, Bruno mentions the meal needs to be prepared slowly. I am finally starting to understand one of the key elements in what makes Italian food taste so good - slow down.

We had a wonderful dinner that evening, complete with house wine and a delectable tiramisu! We laughed, we shared stories, the kids entertained, all at an Italian pace. It was an experience I’ve only dreamed about - having an authentic Italian dinner in the hills Tuscany! It sure makes country life seem like a charm. But then again, we are the visitors, and we get to sleep in tomorrow. For Bruno and Paola, it’s back to work.