Saturday, October 04, 2008
Culinary matters reprised
Resumed baked cod yesterday. Following today by the bit we did not eat - maybe a pound of the stuff - being part fried in butter then blended with 5 ounces of cooked pearl barley and two medium onions, finely chopped and fried in the fish pan after removal of fish. So we have resumed the pearl barley fad too.
Now the place for cooks in Florence is the central market, a block or two north east of Santa Maria Novella. Large two storey affair with lots of meat, fish, cheese, veg and what have you. Maybe a little past its peak, although we never found or even saw a serious supermarket. They must be about somewhere, given the socking great newish build suburbs - swathes of middle sized apartment blocks rather than suburban villas of the Epsom variety - to the north west of the old city, on the way to the city airport.
Big fish stalls but very little white fish. (The fish man from Hastings tells me that he blagged his way onto a Cypriot fishing boat one time to find that very few large fish were caught at all - all fished out). I didn't see any shell fish either. But there was plenty of octopus and squid and odd-jobs of that sort.
Big meat stalls with lots of good looking beef - some of which looked to have come from bigger cows than we are used to. And accompanied by some heavy duty tripe stalls. One of which appeared to stock about twenty differant sorts - including some of the odd bits of cow that one could have boiled and doused with vinegar on top of the excellent chips that used to be sold in Yarmouth market. One of the tripes seemed to be a mixture of red bits and white bits, and was sold in red stew form in the excellent and busy market cafe at one of the entrances to the market. Sort of place which was intended for market traders and other legitimates and sold cheap, hearty and meaty food. But I suspect that in not too many years time the place will have been completely taken over by tourists like ourselves and we will be buying the bag rather than the food. Rather in the way that the formerly excellent cheese shop in Jerymn Street has gone downhill. The market people will have to find somewhere else. Not too keen on the tripe stew though; good to have tried it, but I think I will stick to the meat lump stew next time.
Took a while to get the hang of Italian menus, but I did manage a couple of other star turns. The first was a cow chop - about 3cm thick and cooked very rare. Big enough for two and the waiter, correctly working out female tastes and appetites in these matters, had the wit to give me the half involving the bone. Spectacular presentation and tasted very good. Not sure that I would chance such a light cooking myself. We learn afterwards that this is something of a Florentine speciality. Very good and very dear - despite our having travelled north of the ravine of the Magnone torrent to try and get into Italian country, out of the tourist centre. The second was a house special pizza. Which came in rolled up form, more than a foot long and maybe two inches in diameter. Again, spectacular presentation and tasted very good.
Not clear that one needs to disentangle these two effects: good presentation certainly makes things taste better. But does it matter where the good taste comes from, provided that it does? Is good presentation a necessary or sufficient condition? Back in the land of saloon bar pontification, my call is that it is nearly both. That is to say that one does have a good meal which looks or sounds bad - perhaps on the first presentation, while one gets used to, for example, the tripes' pipes - from time to time, but not very often.
Should end with an honourary mention for Ruth's kosher restaurant, to be found at http://www.kosheruth.com/. Good food - including fish - in a calm and peaceful atmostphere, despite being busy. Change from the more usual Florentine carnavoria. I got one lunch, BH two.
It was next door to a newish synagogue, a rather grand place built to celebrate the acquisition of full civic rights after the unification. Rather struck by the serious security on getting in (finding the same sort of thing later at the Uffizi. It seems that Italy has unpleasant nutters too). Shown round by two very earnest young ladies who were quite strong on all the various currents within their faith. Like so many things, seen from a distance it looks like a monolithic whole, at slightly closer quarters infused with the same humanity as everything else. And despite having had it explained how the building differed from a Christian church in design and layout, as an outsider, on my first visit to such a place, I was struck by how like a Christian church it was. Much more so than the only mosque I have ever visited, that at Regents Park.
Now the place for cooks in Florence is the central market, a block or two north east of Santa Maria Novella. Large two storey affair with lots of meat, fish, cheese, veg and what have you. Maybe a little past its peak, although we never found or even saw a serious supermarket. They must be about somewhere, given the socking great newish build suburbs - swathes of middle sized apartment blocks rather than suburban villas of the Epsom variety - to the north west of the old city, on the way to the city airport.
Big fish stalls but very little white fish. (The fish man from Hastings tells me that he blagged his way onto a Cypriot fishing boat one time to find that very few large fish were caught at all - all fished out). I didn't see any shell fish either. But there was plenty of octopus and squid and odd-jobs of that sort.
Big meat stalls with lots of good looking beef - some of which looked to have come from bigger cows than we are used to. And accompanied by some heavy duty tripe stalls. One of which appeared to stock about twenty differant sorts - including some of the odd bits of cow that one could have boiled and doused with vinegar on top of the excellent chips that used to be sold in Yarmouth market. One of the tripes seemed to be a mixture of red bits and white bits, and was sold in red stew form in the excellent and busy market cafe at one of the entrances to the market. Sort of place which was intended for market traders and other legitimates and sold cheap, hearty and meaty food. But I suspect that in not too many years time the place will have been completely taken over by tourists like ourselves and we will be buying the bag rather than the food. Rather in the way that the formerly excellent cheese shop in Jerymn Street has gone downhill. The market people will have to find somewhere else. Not too keen on the tripe stew though; good to have tried it, but I think I will stick to the meat lump stew next time.
Took a while to get the hang of Italian menus, but I did manage a couple of other star turns. The first was a cow chop - about 3cm thick and cooked very rare. Big enough for two and the waiter, correctly working out female tastes and appetites in these matters, had the wit to give me the half involving the bone. Spectacular presentation and tasted very good. Not sure that I would chance such a light cooking myself. We learn afterwards that this is something of a Florentine speciality. Very good and very dear - despite our having travelled north of the ravine of the Magnone torrent to try and get into Italian country, out of the tourist centre. The second was a house special pizza. Which came in rolled up form, more than a foot long and maybe two inches in diameter. Again, spectacular presentation and tasted very good.
Not clear that one needs to disentangle these two effects: good presentation certainly makes things taste better. But does it matter where the good taste comes from, provided that it does? Is good presentation a necessary or sufficient condition? Back in the land of saloon bar pontification, my call is that it is nearly both. That is to say that one does have a good meal which looks or sounds bad - perhaps on the first presentation, while one gets used to, for example, the tripes' pipes - from time to time, but not very often.
Should end with an honourary mention for Ruth's kosher restaurant, to be found at http://www.kosheruth.com/. Good food - including fish - in a calm and peaceful atmostphere, despite being busy. Change from the more usual Florentine carnavoria. I got one lunch, BH two.
It was next door to a newish synagogue, a rather grand place built to celebrate the acquisition of full civic rights after the unification. Rather struck by the serious security on getting in (finding the same sort of thing later at the Uffizi. It seems that Italy has unpleasant nutters too). Shown round by two very earnest young ladies who were quite strong on all the various currents within their faith. Like so many things, seen from a distance it looks like a monolithic whole, at slightly closer quarters infused with the same humanity as everything else. And despite having had it explained how the building differed from a Christian church in design and layout, as an outsider, on my first visit to such a place, I was struck by how like a Christian church it was. Much more so than the only mosque I have ever visited, that at Regents Park.
# posted by Jim @ 7:51 AM 
