ARTICHOKES AT THE DOOR: Raw Artichoke & Fennel Salad with Pecorino & Barley Flour Crumb

My honey arrived this morning. Not some random sweetheart of mine but actual raw-honey-in-a-pot brought right to the door……delivered fresh, almost dripping, from bee-hives near Lago d’Iseo by the beekeeper or apicoltore himself. Che bella Italia!

This time, rather delightfully – and coincidentally in time for Valentine’s Day – I was not only presented with a large pot of Acacia Honey, but also a very large bunch of fresh ‘carciofi spinosi’ or ‘spiny’ artichokes ..……well who needs Roses anyway?!

Spiny might not be the most imaginative name for these artichokes, but it’s certainly the most apt – although I think ‘aggressively and dangerously spiky’ would cover it better. Unlike roses this bunch of lovelies were not for smelling, you’d lower your face at your peril, these were to be handled respectfully at a distance and would involve the use of reinforced gloves and sharp knives.

But saying that… reading the ‘Medical Medium’, he talks of the healing powers of plants and maintains that artichokes spiritually have the power to open up the heart chakra and bring healing to our hearts. As with some of us, the spiky exterior of this vegetable is merely a defense system that hides a tender and loving centre. Well I rather like that – and particularly as it is Valentines Day!

Un-spiritually speaking the ‘spinoso sardo’ or Sardinian Spiny Artichoke is the oldest variety of artichoke grown in Sardinia and in recognition of this fact, and its superior quality, has been awarded the prestigious ‘Protected Designation of Origin’ (D.O.P.). These ‘carciofi spinosi’ are smaller, slimmer and more painful than the rotund, relatively benign Globe Artichokes, but underneath their defensive weaponry they have a pleasant, slightly bitter taste mixed with a sweet crunchiness which makes them delicious raw.


Sardinia itself is traditionally an island of shepherds and farmers rather than fishermen as you might expect. After years of coastal living fighting off Saracens and foreign invaders the islanders retreated permanently to the mountains and valleys inland for safety and peace.

The island was – and I think still is – classified as one of the “blue zones” or areas in the world where people are more likely to live to 100 years old. Ogliastra, on the eastern side, being the region famous for the number of its centenarians.

Security, peace and a traditional agricultural life are believed to be why the inhabitants reach a great age….but another major factor was reckoned to be their simple plant-based diet which included such regional specialties as:

  • Grass-fed goat’s and sheep’s milk
  • Pecorino’ cheese made from fermented sheep’s milk
  • Sourdough bread and a thin, crispy flat bread called ‘carta di musica’ or music paper because it looked – and sounded – like the parchment sheets used for scribing sacred music.

Carta di Musica

  • Barley-flour bread ideal for shepherds to take with them into the mountains as it keeps for a long time – up to 1 year sometimes (obviously a very ‘substantial’ bread!).
  • Olive oil of course and a very large variety of fresh vegetables, pulses and herbs – including artichokes, fennel, tomatoes, broad beans, basil, thyme and chickpeas to name but a few.
  • And naturally not forgetting daily glasses (please note the plural) of the local red wine.

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With these simple foods in mind, I went shopping in our local markets for similar ingredients to use with my bunch of artichokes.

I’ve always been lazy about preparing and cooking artichokes, taking the easy option of ordering them in a restaurant, but I pulled myself together and thought right….let’s give it a go. Apart from anything else, I also find them interesting for health reasons. Artichokes have an active ingredient called ‘cynarine’ which has a reputation for helping to lower cholesterol and as my cholesterol happens to be slightly high, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to start using them more in my diet.

I’m also adding more raw food to my diet these days to keep my energy level high, so a salad of raw artichokes and fennel with a hint of cheesy-biscuit crumb seemed like a tasty and healthy compromise…….perhaps if I add a red rose to the table I might make this for a Valentine’s Day starter!



For 4
Preparation time: 15-20 minutes
Cooking time: 3-4 minutes


6 spiny artichokes
1 lemon
1 fennel (with green fronds)
100g pecorino cheese, finely grated
50g barley flour (or wholewheat flour if you can’t find barleyflour)
2 Tbsp fennel seeds
1-2 Tbsp olive oil
Salt & pepper
2 Tbsp olive oil
Juice of ½ lemon
1 Tbsp raw honey


Prepare a bowl of acidulated water by adding lemon juice to a bowl of cold water.

Taking great care – and do wear strong gloves if you like, those spikes really hurt!  – prepare the artichokes (see below) and put immediately into the bowl of acidulated water to help stop them browning.

Remove green fronds from the fennel and put aside to use later.

Quarter the fennel bulb and remove the outer white layer if tough. Thinly slice the rest – or use a mandolin – and put into a large salad bowl.

Thinly slice the prepared artichokes (see below) and mix in with the fennel slices. Add olive oil, lemon juice, honey, salt and pepper to taste and toss everything together.

In a separate bowl mix the pecorino cheese, barley flour and fennel seeds together.

Take a medium-sized non-stick frypan and heat about 1-2 Tbsp olive oil .

Add the cheese mixture (do in 2 batches in necessary) and stir well until browned and crispy.

Tip over the artichoke and fennel salad, decorate with fennel fronds (if you don’t have enough fennel fronds, use fresh parsley) and serve immediately.



Take an artichoke and slice off the spiny leaves leaving roughly about ½ of the artichoke

Trim and peel the stem and remove outer leaves until you’re left with a tight core then cut into quarters

Remove a wedge of the hairy ‘choke’ from each quarter


Thinly slice each quarter


We humans are a noisy bunch. Blasting alarms, screaming motorbikes and high-pitched beeping seem to follow me everywhere.

I remember only realizing the high level of noise when I had my first mobile phone and tried to have a conversation in the streets of London. I ended up down some random  back-alley filled with rotting foodstuffs and rutting dogs in my desperation to find a place where I could hear myself speak.

The Japanese realized this dilemma some time ago and decided to do something about it. They weren’t so concerned about hearing yourself speak, but quite rightly focused more on the stress and health issue of city living. So in 1982 they introduced ‘Shinrin-Yoku’  as part of a national health initiative which literally means “spending more time around trees” or, more colloquially, “forest bathing”.

It’s now been scientifically proven that walking in forests or being around trees not only lowers stress, blood pressure and blood sugar levels but boosts the immune system and  soothes the spirit. And if you can’t get out of the cities, these benefits come even with a visit to a park.

I could certainly feel my spirit and body being soothed as I strolled through the glorious parkland surrounding Villa Verdi, the house and grounds that the composer Giuseppe Verdi designed and built on the outskirts of his hometown of Roncole, near Parma. It was here that Verdi and his wife the great Italian soprano Giuseppina Strepponi lived….where he ran his estate, wrote most of his compositions and from where he travelled extensively by horse and carriage.

However his home was where he always returned to ….it was his retreat and inspiration.

“This deep quietness is becoming more and more precious to me. It is impossible for me to find another place in which to live with more freedom”.

Verdi house

This quietness still pervades the place, a stillness that Verdi himself strove all his life to create and nurture. His need for silence in order to compose was so strong that he even removed all the stones from many of the woodland paths and laid down sand to muffle the sounds of his walking.

I too walked in silence, in awe that the great maestro Verdi had trod these same paths plucking music from the silence….whilst I, an operatic ignoramus, could only hear the trees sighing and rustling in the light breeze. And yet, strangely enough, when I left I felt peaceful and deeply fulfilled inside ……as if I’d listened to an entire concert of wonderful music.


Before leaving Roncole we went for a quiet coffee under these glorious hanging garlands of perfumed glicine (or wisteria) before heading into the main town of Busseto to see Verdi sitting proudly in front of his Teatro Giuseppe Verdi.

An Indian Sikh family came biking past and it was fascinating to discover later how these immigrant Sikhs have become the backbone of Italy’s most famous cheese-making industry here around Parma. Parmesan of course being the most famous of the local cheeses.

Arriving in Italy in the 1980s large numbers settled in the Po Valley attracted by the land and agriculture which felt similar to the Punjab.

The majority of them chose dairy farming. Taking care of cows came naturally to them plus there wasn’t the immediate need to learn or speak Italian – cow language luckily is pretty universal!

The local dairy farmers were impressed by the respect and skill with which the Indians handled their animals, they weren’t afraid of hard work or the unsociable hours because they wake up early to pray anyway.

Although Italian artisans still actually make the cheese, most of the dairy farms have Sikhs working in the cow sheds – they have been fundamental to maintaining and preserving traditional cheese production. As the local mayor remarked: “It would be impossible to think of this industry without the support of people from India”.

A great incentive for welcoming immigrants.

Although Parmesan is the most famous cheese from this area, mozzarella is also produced……and the luxurious burrata.


An incredibly easy yet luxurious starter 

Burrata Glicine Nocciole 2

Burrata (meaning “buttery”) is a fresh Italian cheese of mozzarella and cream. It looks just like an ordinary ball of mozzarella but in fact is a little bombshell of creamy loveliness. Mozzarella curds are formed into a solid pouch then filled with a mixture of soft, shredded  curds and cream which oozes out deliciously when the outer crust is pierced.

Originally burrata came wrapped in ‘Asphodel’ leaves – these hardy leaves of the lily family were regarded as sacred and protective.  They only stayed fresh for 3-4 days the same amount of time that burrata remained fresh. Nowadays of course it’s plastic with a expiry date on it – which is still about 3 days but I preferred eating mine straight away ….. and finishing up the last mouthful the next day.

I chose burrata because it’s quietly luxurious – there’s no chewing, biting or cracking, the creamy mixture just slides silently down your throat like silk. The flower petals join in – softly – as do the tiny shavings of hazelnut for a touch of texture.

Fresh burrata cheese
Cold-pressed olive oil (a delicate one is best)
**Glicine flowers/petals (organic or unsprayed)
Toasted hazelnuts
Fresh bread

To serve, place on a platter and pierce the mozzarella pouch…..drizzle with cold-pressed olive oil, scatter with glicine petals and grate over toasted hazelnuts for a gentle nutty aroma.

Take slices of fresh, crusty bread and dip them into the gooey cheese – it’s almost like a fresh creamy fondue.

**N.B. Be sure to eat only the flowers or petals of the glicine – they’re edible (with a lovely delicate flavor) but the other part of the plant isn’t.

**It’s the season for glicine now but if you can’t find any or if the season is over, just use any edible flower.


To eat quietly and ‘mindfully’ helps to soothe our digestion…..and probably our souls too.












If Marilyn Monroe had been alive and living in Venice around the 14th or 15th century she would have been singing a song not about diamonds but that ‘Spices Are A Girl’s Best Friend’. At that time La Serenissima (‘the most serene’), an honorary Byzantine title bestowed on the Republic of Venice, was the hugely wealthy epi-centre of a global spice trade where spices were the very height of luxury, afforded only by the rich, and more sought after than diamonds.

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Speaking of diamonds I’ve just spotted an advertisement for an exclusive new beauty treatment  ….clearly only for the mega-rich and mega-bored….to be massaged with crushed diamonds.  I say no more…..the world’s gone mad!

Venice, a floating jewel of a city, oozes exoticness to me with its dark hints of intrigue, mystery and romance all of which come together at Carnival time:  those very far-from-serene weeks of revelry, colour, costumes, confetti-throwing, food and indulgence that starts almost immediately after Epiphany and continues until the arrival of Lent. Coinciding with pagan spring festivals Carnival is a transition time from the end of winter to the beginning of spring and is a time when you’re allowed to express another side of yourself.

© visit venice Italy

From early times masks could be worn at any time in Venice helping the wearer conceal his identity and social status, allowing total anonymity for any illicit (or criminal) activities or lending mystery and glamour for romantic trysts and seduction. It wasn’t until around the 18th century that mask-wearing was limited to carnival time.

There are two types of mask: carnival masks (where anything goes) or masks of one of the archetypal characters from the Commedia dell’Arte.

© where-venice   © venetian masquerade masks

Begun in Italy in the early 16th century Commedia dell’Arte was the first form of professional theatre – usually performed outside in the piazzas and based on witty dialogue, improvisation….and masks.

The main characters include: Arlecchino (Harlequin), Pantalone (‘Money’), Medico della Peste (Plague Doctor), Columbina (Arlecchino’s mistress), Scaramouche (Rogue Adventurer) and Pulcinella (Crooked-Nosed Hunchback). Pulcinella is in fact the direct forefather of Punch in the English Punch-and-Judy puppet show.

‘Martedi grasso’, ‘mardi gras’ or ‘fat tuesday’ as I prefer, marks the end of Carnival when everyone can have their final fling before saying “farewell to the flesh” and entering the forty days of fasting and penitence leading up to Easter.

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Well we’re now in Lent and I seem to be doing very little fasting or penitence (actually none), but I’ve at least put together this ‘flesh-less’ recipe of fish and rice. Venetian cuisine with its access to the Lagoon is naturally full of fish and seafood dishes including their traditional ‘risotto al nero di seppia’ – risotto with cuttlefish ink.


Venice’s famous Rialto Market is a lively daily market close to the Rialto Bridge. Seasonal fruit and vegetables are always on offer and if you’re early enough you can buy the freshest lagoon fish directly from boats as they draw up at the quay. Otherwise you can trawl the stalls offering locally caught seafood making sure to pick those tagged as “nostrano” (‘ours’).

Either from a point of cleanliness (sepia ink stains your teeth and mouth black!) or from sheer laziness I decided to skip using sepia ink and use my latest discovery, black rice. ‘Forbidden Rice’ or Black Rice is a highly treasured rice from Asia. Apparently in ancient China it  was forbidden for anyone to eat it except the Emperor and the Royal Family because of its health benefits.

You can check out the health benefits and buy this product at: but for this particular recipe I’m using the Italian equivalent, a black variety of brown rice – if that makes sense! You should be able to find a similar variety in any specialty supermarket.


For 2
Preparation time: 15-20 minutes
Cooking time: 20-25 minutes


350g salmon fillet with the skin on
Juice of ½ lemon
Coarse salt
Selection of spices such as:
Star Anise
Coriander seeds
Black pepper
Cardamom pods
Toasted sesame seeds to garnish
Dried edible flowers to garnish (or fresh herbs)


Wash the salmon fillet and make sure there are no bones in it. Sprinkle with lemon juice and put aside.

Take a non-stick frying pan and pour in enough coarse salt to totally cover the bottom of the pan (to a depth of about 4-5mm).

Scatter with the spices and place over a medium-hot flame.

When hot – you’ll be able to start smelling the spices – place the salmon, skin-side down, onto the spiced salt. Let it sit for 1-2 minutes until you see the flesh starting to turn white then put the lid on and allow to steam for about 5 minutes.

Remove from the heat and let sit covered for another few minutes.

To actually steam the salmon over water would probably only take about 5-6 minutes but I found this method needed a bit more time, plus resting time.

To serve sprinkle sesame seeds over the salmon and decorate with edible dried flowers or fresh herbs

Take the covered pan and remove the lid at the table so that you can savour all the wonderful spice smells.



200g black parboiled rice
5Tbsp olive oil
1Tbsp balsamic vinegar
Juice of 1 lemon
1Tbsp honey
Salt & pepper
3 spring onions, chopped
6 small/medium tomatoes, chopped
small bunch of fresh basil, chopped


Cook the rice in boiling salted water for 18-20 minutes. If you can’t get parboiled, cook the rice for between 45 minutes – 1 hour.

Drain and rinse in cold water. Stir in all the other ingredients and allow to sit for a short while to ‘mingle’!

Halve the salmon fillet – removing the skin – and serve alongside the black rice salad.





After a difficult year last year (I apologise for no postings) I asked for 2017 to be full of new and exciting experiences and….wham!.. the universe came right back with its own humorous response…. ..Eels and Zampogna for you! 

Eels or ‘anguille’ are pretty self-explanatory and they came mixed in with other deep-fried fish & prawns served as part of some delicious Venetian-style bar snacks called ‘cicchetti’ (pronounced ‘chick-etti’). We were taking a New Year’s break in Comacchio a small town south of Venice in the Po Delta – otherwise known, or rather unbeknownst to me, as the eel capital of Italy.

Zampogna on the other hand are not edible but are a type of ancient bagpipe from central and southern Italy made of goat hide and whose sound has been likened to a ‘tribe’ or flock of bleeting goat & sheep….bleeting in tune obviously!


What were Zampogna doing over here in Comacchio I wondered. The charismatic Ambrogio Sparagna and his band were on their annual Christmas & New Year tour – playing haunting ancient melodies to ensure that Italy’s pastoral culture is kept alive.

    © zampogna

He and his band were staying in the same hotel as us on the canal front just 5 minutes walk from the concert hall – what luck as the temperature had dropped well into the minus degrees!

The hotel is well-known not only for its warm friendly atmosphere but also for its home-cooking. As we all gathered to eat that night around a roaring fire, we were offered ’anguilla’  in many guises including roasted or, as we had it, mixed with cabbage and a hint of cinnamon. I was slightly apprehensive I must say, but found it surprisingly delicate and utterly delicious. The band meanwhile were enjoying a hearty and noisy meal of roast eel and polenta. I can’t remember the name of the local red wine, but everyone certainly sampled a glass or three!

Apart from being able to buy marinated eel or fish on every corner, the town is beautiful…a little Venice and a dream for any photographer or cinematographer with its stunning light,  reflections, views…..and history.

I hesitate to mention Sophia Loren in the same breath as eels, but rumour has it that she was fascinated by eels and thus chose to star as a worker at an eel-pickling factory in Soldati’s film ‘La Donna del Fiume’, filmed here in Comacchio.


In the film you see the real-life atmospheric scenes of flaming walls of spit-roasting eels and when we went round the local museum, now housed in the same fish factory (Manifattura dei Marinati), we saw this bank of fireplaces. From October to December the twelve fireplaces are stoked up once more and you can eat roasted eels as they used to do.


We also watched black & white archive footage of traditional eel-fishing using the famed (in the eel world that is!) Comacchio fish weirs as traps. Once caught, the eels were netted out of the traps and stored in hand-woven baskets submerged in water.


When ready for pickling, the fishermen pulled out the eels, decapitated them (harsh viewing!), then handed them to the women. The women then skewered and roasted them on enormous spits before pickling them in vinegar, salt and water and storing in barrels or cans. A fascinating glimpse into Comacchio’s history.


One last piece of interesting ‘eel info’ comes from the Art world .. ……I had no idea there could be so many eel stories! A new theory has appeared recently concerning Leonardo da Vinci’s ‘Last Supper’ and the food Jesus and his disciples were eating.



After Pinin Brambilla’s impressive 20-year restoration of the ‘L’Ultima Cena’ (hanging in Santa Maria delle Grazie in Milano), fine details once hidden under centuries of damage have now come to light.

John Varriano a noted professor of art history, has suggested that what appeared to be a generic type of fish on the table more accurately resembles eel……either roasted or grilled and garnished with sliced oranges.

Leonardo – as other painters – would often paint details of their own lives into their art. So although perhaps a more traditional meal would have been more authentic, he chose to change the menu to suit his and Renaissance tastes.

Certainly orange to accompany fish was a feature in Italian cuisine by the early sixteenth century……and eels were especially popular in Renaissance Italy because they could survive out of water for days, were easily transported and could be preserved in brine.

Added to which, according to writings by Bartolomeo Scappi – a 16th century Italian humanist and food connoisseur, the best eels came from Comacchio!

For my recipe below I’ve used prawns to replica our ‘cicchetti’ – I thought it wasn’t easy for most of us to find eel. I’ve also added strips of pumpkin because that’s what was added to our plate of ‘cicchetti’  and made a delicious extra.

Meanwhile I found a 15th century eel recipe which also used cinnamon, so I’ve added a touch of cinnamon to the batter plus a bitter orange marmalade dipping sauce as a modern nod to Leonardo.



For 2
Preparation time: 10-15 minutes
Cooking time: 10-15 minutes

450g raw prawns, shelled & deveined
Juice and zest of 2 oranges
Salt & pepper
Plain flour for dusting (about 6 Tbsp)
½ tsp-1 tsp ground cinnamon
¼ of a small pumpkin (or ‘zucca’), peeled
Vegetable oil for frying
Jar of orange marmalade ( I used a bitter orange marmalade)



  • Marinate the prawns in a bowl with the orange juice and zest, salt and pepper. Chill in the fridge for about an hour.
  • Take the pumpkin and with a peeler or sharp knife shave off thin slices. Keep to one side.
  • Take a plastic bag and put in the plain flour and cinnamon, plus a pinch of salt and shake.
  • Melt about ½ jar of marmalade in a small pan, adding water if necessary to make a dipping sauce. Keep warm.
  • Heat some vegetable oil in a high-sided pan – to about 60cm or enough to be sure to cover the prawns.
  • Remove prawns from the fridge and drain well.
  • Check the oil is hot enough by adding a small piece of bread – if it sizzles it’s ready.
  • First fry the pumpkin shavings, a spoonful at a time. Remove when lightly coloured and keep warm on kitchen paper.
  • Now put a handful of prawns in the flour mixture and give a good shake. Then remove, shake off any excess and pop into the hot oil (be sure to only fry a few at a time otherwise they’ll be soggy).
  • Fry for about 3 minutes or until they’re well coloured and crisp.
  • Drain on kitchen paper and repeat with the rest of the prawns.
  • Serve on a platter with slivers of pumpkin and the warm marmalade dipping sauce.

And imagine yourself on the canal-front of Comacchio sipping a glass of white wine and snacking on ‘cicchetti’……it’s Italy!



Plate of Pizzoccheri

Arriverdeci Winter” – “Benvenuto Spring”

I always have a slight moment of panic when trekking through forests and mountains we haven’t been in before. It’s always exhilarating (actually mainly afterwards) but there’s that tiny niggle of fear that we could be on the wrong track – after all you can’t see anything through the trees – and then we’d be fated to wander in the wilderness for ever. Well obviously not – but you know what I mean!

Well this time, just as the niggle of fear started to hit we broke cover and out of the trees, clouds and snow loomed our designated lunch-spot with….even better…. wafts of the hot, garlic-scented designated lunch that awaited us. Heavenly!

mountain chalet

On this particular day lunch was ‘pizzoccheri’, an ancient dish of the Northern Italian region of Valtellina and consisting of a sort of ‘tagliatelle’ made with buckwheat or ‘gran saraceno’ flour, tossed with potatoes, cabbage, garlic and local cheese. A suitably hearty meal for those who work in the mountains, or indeed for those of us who had sweated their way on foot up through woods and snowdrifts!


After finishing our meal in front of an enormous blazing fire it was time for the downhill return journey and much talk – now bravely – of our adventure.

mountain view.jpg

This year, our mild winter has now suddenly changed to cold and damp weather. So when I heard of the snowfall in Piemonte and Valle Aosta and watched the darkening skies out of my window, I felt in need of some comfort food to remind me of warming fires and warm full stomachs……where was that ‘pizzoccheri’?

Checking out my fridge (I didn’t want to walk down into the village with a downpour threatening) I found the only potatoes I possessed were already soft and sprouting green shoots, but I found ‘cavolo nero’  (the Italian equivalent of kale), a small squash or ‘zucca’, some garlic, parmesan and a fancy packet of ‘gran saraceno’ pasta gifted to us for Christmas.


As an aside – because ‘gran saraceno’ grows well in poor soil and harsh conditions it has become an ideal staple food for the mountains – and a plus for some of us is that it’s not a grain but a plant related to the sorrel family and is therefore gluten free.

I rather liked the idea of swapping potatoes in the dish for squash – they would give a dash of vibrant spring-colour and after their migration from the New World five hundred or so years ago ‘zucca’ have truly settled in and integrated themselves into the Italian way of life.

As it was now pouring with rain outside I decided to make my own pasta instead of using the packet one. I looked up the recipe as written by traditional specialists at the ‘Accademia del Pizzocchero’ of Teglio, but I saw they recommend a traditional method of flour and water. I’ve always been advised to use eggs for making pasta so here I’m using egg and milk.


Plate of Pizzoccheri

For 4
Preparation time: 30 minutes
Cooking time: 20-30 minutes
Pre-heat oven: 200C/400F


For home-made Pasta
200g ‘gran saraceno’ or buckwheat flour
100g stoneground white flour
1 large egg
Pinch salt
150ml warm milk (appx)

OR – use 300g dried pizzoccheri

½ squash or 1 small squash (about 300g)
Olive oil, drizzle
Coarse salt
Fresh sage leaves

75g butter (butter is mainly used in the mountains here for obvious reasons – olive trees don’t grow but cows do)
1 shallot
1 clove garlic, grated
Cavolo nero or kale (about 300g)
Organic primroses for decoration (optional!) – or freshly chopped parsley

Flour & Egg


Mix the two flours and salt together and tip onto a large wooden board. Make a well in the centre and break an egg into it.

Take a fork and start beating the egg gradually bringing in the flour from the edge of the bowl and slowly adding the milk.

Start using your hands and mix well together – you might need a little more milk if too dry or a little less, or more white flour if too wet.

Knead for a few minutes and when it feels smooth and pliable you’re ready to let it rest. Form into a ball, wrap in cling-film and put to one side for at least half an hour or until you’re ready to roll it out. I actually put mine in the fridge overnight and rolled it out the next day.

Pasta ball

Take a large pastry board. Divide the dough ball in half – I find it easier to roll out two halves rather than the whole ball. But entirely up to you!

With your rolling pin roll out the dough into a fairly thin sheet – it’s too finicky for me to measure the exact millimeter thickness so I have to be infuriatingly vague and say, not too thin that it’s transparent and fragile but not too thick that it looks heavy and unattractive!

When you’re happy with your effort, trim the edges then cut the dough into strips approximately 10-15cm long by 2cm wide and put to one side, onto another floured board or plate.

Pizzoccheri pasta

I’m making pasta by hand because I find it incredibly satisfying and because I don’t make pasta very often. But for those of you with pasta machines you’ll probably use those instead of hand rolling.

Zucca for baking

Whilst the pasta is resting, de-seed the zucca and cut into large chunks. Drizzle with oil and coarse salt and dot with fresh sage leaves. Bake for about 20 minutes or until soft but not squishy. Remove from oven and allow to cool. When cool, remove the skin and dice in to smallish cubes.

Then bring a large pan of salted water to the boil.

Roughly chop the cavolo nero leaves, discarding any stems that are too thick and put them into the boiling water.

After 3-4 minutes add the pizzoccheri pasta strips and cook for 5 minutes (if you’re using dried pasta, check the cooking time).

Meanwhile heat a large frypan with butter. Add the finely chopped shallot and grated garlic and cook until soft but not brown.

Add the roasted pumpkin cubes at the last minute, stir briefly until heated through and season well.

Drain both the pasta and cavolo nero (keep back a little of the cooking water) and add to the fry-pan.

Give a quick stir, adding some of the cooking water, and tip onto plates.

Sprinkle with grated parmesan cheese and decorate with a few spring primroses or chopped parsley.

Plate of Pizzoccheri

N.B.  Traditionally this pasta has mountain cheese melted in as well as parmesan, but much as I love the local cheese – and Bitto is usually the cheese used for this dish – I wanted to make the dish a little lighter…..a little more ‘spring-like’!










I’m already thinking post-Christmas and that burning question of what to eat on Boxing Day or the day after…or the day after that…? Left-over turkey, ham and trimmings are always a treat but sometimes you want to pop in a little surprise, something different – but without the work!

Well….I’ve just discovered something rather wonderful thanks to our lovely neighbour who presented us with a large bag of organic, home-grown walnuts. ‘Salsa di noci’ or walnut salsa is this something rather wonderful, a classic Ligurian sauce that’s normally served with pasta but here I’m using it as a dip for chicken wings.

I’m sure somewhere you’ll still have a large bowl of nuts and walnuts left-over from the festivities…..or maybe like me you still have some from last year’s Christmas! If so, chuck them out and start with fresh.

Book yourself some quiet time – light the fire, put on an old movie, find your nutcrackers…. and get cracking walnuts! If you’ve also got some almonds …. crack those too.

Don’t crack all your walnuts – (now there’s a motto for life!) – keep some whole ones back and give this ancient Italian game a try. I’ve just copied the origins and instructions from a wall in the Ligurian village where I found this game and I think you’ll find it reassuringly non-energetic – physically or mentally – for after-Christmas partying!

OMILLA (the triangle in the circle)

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Historical origins:
This game was part of the target games played with walnuts in the classical Greek and Roman times. The triangle shaped area that is drawn on the ground, corresponded to the capital letter ‘delta’ of the Greek alphabet. The throws were done with walnuts (which was a symbol of youth games in the classical period) or small astragal bones from sheep or goats carcasses which were used as dice or for other games in those periods.

Number of players:
As many as wished, minimum two.

Walnuts or small animal bones or even small stones are good.

How to play:
In turns, each player throws the walnuts or bones on the ground from a distance previously decided and the same for everyone, bopping that their own walnut will land within the area where the highest score is marked. Highest total score wins.

Obviously I used my walnuts but if you happen to have any sheep or goat carcasses around …..then bones it is!

Meanwhile, here’s a recipe I did earlier!…

For 6 – to be eaten with fingers

Nut-cracking time: flexible
Preparation time: 15 minutes
Cooking time: 25 minutes

Spiced chicken wings.jpg

Pre-heat oven 200C/400F


24 chicken wings (I’ve allowed 4 each)
1 Tbsp sumac spice
1 Tbsp paprika
½ tsp allspice
½ tsp cinnamon
Salt & ground black pepper to taste
2-3 Tbsp olive oil (appx.)

SALSA di NOCI (to use as a dip
125g shelled walnuts
75g shelled almonds
1 clove garlic, peeled
½ tsp salt
5 heaped Tbsp grated parmesan cheese
200ml single cream
5 Tbsp olive oil (appx.)

Mix the chicken wings, spices and olive oil together in a large bowl.

Arrange in one layer in a baking dish and roast in the oven for about 25 minutes.

Remove and allow to sit covered for about 5 minutes.

Put the nuts into a food processor and blitz until they are coarsely ground.

Tip in the garlic, salt, parmesan cheese, cream and olive oil and blitz again until well mixed to make a fairly firm dipping sauce.

Adjust to how liquid you would like the salsa – adding more oil or cream if necessary. Pour into a bowl – or bowls.

Serve the chicken wings on a large wooden platter with the bowl/bowls of ‘salsa di noci’ and perhaps a large green salad. No cutlery needed – these are to be eaten in the fingers – so just a pile of paper napkins.

Follow up with some fresh tangerines and if you can find a bottle of the Italian liqueur made with young walnuts called ‘Nocino’ – then this would be just the icing on the cake!









 Porcini Tempura1 - Copia

I’m up to my ears in Porcini – not a phrase that’s often bandied about these days  – especially outside Italy!

I frightened the guy at my local market the other day with my excitement at the sight of fresh porcini sitting on his stall. He poor man was mortified as he thought I’d spied some horrific creepy-crawly damaging his vegetables so I had to quickly tone down my ardour. Clearly I need to re-think how I express joy and pleasure as I seem to be giving the wrong impression and just end up scaring people!

Porcini Basket1

On the other hand I saw my neighbour return from a walk recently, not in his usual quiet and calm – bordering on morose – state but thoroughly over-excited and gesticulating in an alarming fashion. He too had seen porcini and couldn’t seem to contain his exuberance. I was therefore feeling rather proud that I might have started to become truly ‘Italian’ in my funghi euphoria.

I had actually been searching for fresh porcini for a while but everyone kept telling me that it’d been such a hot summer that the harvest was bad this year and fresh porcini were scarce. But with the recent influx of rain they started once again popping up in the woods nearby…..or fairly nearby…or actually I’ve no idea where they’d been found. Gathering porcini seems to be a bit like truffle-hunting – but without dogs – their whereabouts are a mystery and top secret.

Porcini Single1

I’d made some Japanese-style vegetable tempura recently, which went down very well with my Italian guests, so I thought I’d make it again but this time with porcini – their meaty yet delicate flesh would be ideal. One of the guests mentioned that they always used grappa or sparkling wine in their batter so I thought I’d try this out.

Prosecco grapes  Prosecco aperitivo - Copia

I’m using Prosecco because we’d just returned from a trip through the ‘strada del prosecco’ – the region around Valdobbiadene in the Veneto, south of Trento. Only now have I cracked how to correctly pronounce Valdobbiadene – the DOC centre for Prosecco! Obviously we bought a few bottles so I thought I’d use some of the last remaining bottle!

So, here’s the recipe which is really easy to make and rather delicious….see what you think!



For 2 as a light supper (or 4 for a starter)

Preparation time: 5-10 minutes

Cooking time: appx. 2-3 minutes per mushroom

Porcini Tempura1 - Copia


8 large porcini mushrooms (use large field mushrooms if you can’t get porcini)

Vegetable oil for frying (about ½ – ¾ litre)

Tempura batter

100g plain flour

25g cornflour

Good pinch of salt

175ml Prosecco, well chilled

Dipping Sauce

1 Tbsp balsamic vinegar

4 Tbsp Prosecco


Mix the balsamic vinegar and prosecco together, pour into small dipping bowls and set aside.

Carefully wipe each porcini clean with a damp cloth or soft brush.

Slice lengthwise into medium-thick slices – depending on size you’ll probably get about 3-4  slices per mushroom.

Sift the flour, cornflour and salt into a bowl and pour in the chilled Prosecco. Whisk briefly just to combine but don’t over-mix.

Heat vegetable oil in a high-sided pan or wok over high heat. To test if it’s hot enough add a drop of batter to see if it sizzles (heat needs to be about 180C/350F).

Dip the porcini slices into the batter and then immediately into the hot oil. Don’t overcrowd the pan – I did about 2-3 slices at a time.

When they’re a light golden brown (about 2-3 minutes) take out of the pan and keep warm on a plate covered with kitchen paper.

When finished serve with dipping sauce and fresh parsley – and some coarse sea salt.