Well, ragazzi, in this post, Annalena continues her crusade across Sicily, and talks about cultural assumptions, openness, and being a day late and a dollar short. Yes, another typical Annalena post: what about the food?
For YEARS - literally - Annalena had heard stories about the wonderful "Italian watermelon pudding." She never saw it on a single menu. Intrigued, from time to time, she tried to imagine it. You all know watermelon: it's, well, WATERY. And pudding - of course you know pudding. It's thick, creamy, rich. Let's face it: watermelon is not the first thing you think of (or even the 40th), when you think of pudding. And in fact, the Italian word for pudding , "budino" affirms your thoughts. If you have been fortunate enough to get true "budino," it is quite likely you couldn't finish it. When it comes to budino, Italians don't full around. Think of, perhaps, a bowl of chocolate fudge, or the best chocolate icing you could imagine. Flowerless chocolate cake doesn't come close.
But... WATERMELON, in this context? Well, it was at the back of Annalena's mind, until it moved to the FRONT, when the leader of her tour, Ms. Allison, published a short note, talking about "one of her favorite desserts," and she gave the name: "gelo di melone." "Watermelon pudding." And a picture.
AHA. And now, things began to make sense in a non-sense making way. "Gelo" does not mean pudding. "Melone" does not mean "watermelon." It means MELON. So we have "watermelon
pudding," with a name that doesn't mean watermelon pudding. Sort of like there's no toad in the hole, in "toad in the hole" , and , to quote Vonnegut "no damn cat and no damn cradle" in a cat's cradle. But it was all good. Annalena was going to Sicily, and she would eat watermelon pudding in Sicily.
Except she didn't. And this is why, ragazzi. While we in the US boast about eating seasonally and locally, for Sicilians, it's routine. Annalena is serious: as she was told, early on "if you like something in a city we're visiting, eat a lot of it because you might not see it again." Indeed. There are many reasons for that, too many to go into here. Let us just say that Sicilians ate and eat locally and seasonally because they had to and have to. Now, even when they don't have to, most do. Annalena smiles when her gal pal Alessia posts pictures of her foraging trips, her jams made of wild pears, the snails she gathers. YES YES YES.
So, Annalena was in Sicily, and she couldn't get her pudding. But she read about it. And just about every recipe talked about the use of jasmine in the pudding (there are other variations, especially with chocolate, pistachio and cinnamon, but jasmine was spoken of everywhere).
You cannot escape jasmine in Sicily even if you want to. It's sort of like the local flower. And at night, when the fragrance comes out, it can be overpowering. And Annalena assumed that when it was used in this pudding, they used extract. From her days in chemistry, Annalena knew that jasmine is very difficult to extract, and is very expensive. She also knew, from experience, that you do not find jasmine extract on the shelf next to the vanilla. So, she figured she would make the watermelon pudding when she came back to NY and, even though it would be expensive, she would buy the extract in Sicily.
HA! Whenever Annalena asked about "stratto di gelsominio" she got looks along the lines of "your Italian is BAD, but this one is REALLY BAD." So, she asked some cooks and chefs who know more English than Annalena knows Italian. They looked at Annalena strangely. NO ONE knew what she was talking about.
Then, in the Palermo open market, a middle Eastern man, who specialized in herbs, extracts, and the like, heard the discussion and took pity on Annalena. "Oh, no, we don't have that in Sicily. Why would we? We have the flowers. We use THEM."
OH. So, does "no damn cat and no damn cradle" begin to sound even more appropriate. In the US, finding edible jasmine flowers is not something that is easily done, or even possible, so Annalena started her search for extract and found it. And she collected recipes for "gelo di melone" watermelon pudding, that isn't watermelon pudding. It's easy. You must make it. But warned: it is not a standard pudding, nor is it a standard dessert. It may not be what you want as the weather gets cooler, but you should have it in your repertoire.
Here we go. We start with:
Yes, a watermelon. Can you imagine that! This one weighed in at about 5 pounds. It was also seedless, which is not the preferred one for Sicilian "gelo," but it does the trick. Need Annalena say it: you cut the rind from this, trying to save as much fruit as possible. This was a red watermelon. Keep that in mind.
After you have peeled the melon, and if necessary, pulled out the seeds, either put the chopped melon into a blender (NOT a food processor), or through a food mill. Annalena did the former. Measure your liquid:
Annalena got just over four cups. More to the point: do you see the color? It's sort of pink and sort of mauve. A VERY unusual color for a dessert. Except in Sicily.
The amount of liquid you have, will determine how much of the next two ingredients you use: cornstarch and sugar. You'll use the same amount of each. For six cups of liquid, you'll use a cup of each. So, do some kitchen math: 4 cups is 2/3 of 6 cups, so you need 2/3 cup of cornstarch, and 2/3 cup of sugar.
(what you will find in most pudding recipes, ragazzi, is that cornstarch is the thickener of choice. You COULD use wheatstarch if you could find it).
Ok, so you put the watermelon juice, the sugar, and the cornstarch into a pot, OFF the heat for now (cornstarch needs to start cold, and become hot, to activate. Annalena can give you the chemistry if you like):
Whisk everything together, and over low heat, keep whisking:
Keep your eye on the liquid. In other words, this is NOT a recipe where you can go away and catch up on "Gattopardo" or Natalia Ginzburg, or Leonardo Sciascia, or any other Sicilian literary figure. It will all happen very quickly, and in about 5-6 minutes, you will have:
When this is hot, if you are going to add jasmine extract, add it, DROP BY DROP. Annalena is very serious about this: the stuff is strong. Taste it after EACH drop. (Truth is, for 4 cups of gelo, Annalena used 1/2 a teaspoon . If she were eating it all herself, she'd use more.
Then cool it down. You need to eat this cold. But there it is. The color in these pictures, is not misleading: that's what it looks like. The texture is something like a very thick applesauce. you can eat it "straight," which is how Annalena likes it. Or put it on a cookie. Or mold it into heart shapes, and stuff like that. If you don't "feel" jasmine, sprinkle some ground pistachios (preferably from Erice), over it. Or, put some grated chocolate. Whipped cream, unsweetened, is a good thing with this. So is a crispy biscotti.
So again, Annalena has presented a recipe to you that probably takes less time to make, than it takes to read. So, if you can still find local, seasonal watermelon, Annalena urges you to make this dish. Let her know if you do. And let her know what you think.
No comments:
Post a Comment