Pomodori, Fagioli, e Cipolline (Roasted Tomatoes, Beans, and Onions) Photograph by Andrea Wyner

As cultural tourists, who among us isn’t dazzled by the Tuscan sun? We see ourselves feasting beneath its rays: Platters laden with antipasti, pasta, bistecca all fiorentina, Sangiovese wine, and sweets . . . la dolce vita.

But Tuscans in their 70s, 80s, and 90s tell a story of a different table.

These old kitchen hands are the witnesses who inform Pamela Sheldon Johns’ latest cookbook Cucina Povera: Tuscan Peasant Cooking (Andrews McMeel). Johns, an American cookbook author who owns Poggio Etrusco, an organic agritourismo near Montepulciano, has written a cultural and culinary history of a by-gone world. Cucina Povera continua

Photo by Judy Witts Francini

My American ex-pat friend Judy Witts Francini lives in Certaldo, halfway between Florence and Siena, where she teaches classes at her Divina Cucina Cooking School.

I have to share her recent post of a decadent recipe for cioccolato caldo , hot chocolate that’s as thick as a pudding because it contains an obscene amount of melted bittersweet chocolate. Just looking at her photo of a mug of cioccolato caldo— set against the backdrop of snow that Tuscany’s been pelted with— warms my spirits.

Judy credits the recipe to Leonardo Vestri who has a chocolate/gelato shop in Florence. He sometimes spikes it with a pinch of hot pepper which is the way Judy likes it. I can’t wait to sip some by the fire! How about you?

One taste of zuppa di porcini whisks me to rural Tuscany in autumn. My friend Anna Maria Gaggio showed me how to make this dish in the kitchen of her Tuscan farmhouse, using fresh porcini gathered by her husband Mario.

Because imported porcini are outrageously expensive, I recreate the soup using a mixture of fresh baby bella mushrooms and reconstituted dried porcini. The flavor is intense because the dried mushrooms concentrate the essence.

The portions in this recipe are adequate for a light meal with a salad. Half portions make a wonderful first course for a holiday meal. If you like, prepare the soup a few days ahead of time, refrigerate and reheat before serving.

Zuppa di Porcini

Serves 4 to 6

1          ounce dried porcini mushrooms

2                    cans fat-free reduced-sodium (14 1/2 ounces each) chicken broth, divided

1/3       cup olive oil

1 1/4    pounds baby bella mushrooms, sliced

4          cloves garlic, minced

1          tablespoon minced fresh rosemary leaves

1/4       teaspoon dried red-pepper flakes

3/4       teaspoon salt

1                    can (14 1/2 ounces) diced tomatoes, drained

4        cups water

4 to 6   slices (1-inch-thick) toasted rustic bread

2          ounces (1/2 cup) grated Parmesan cheese

Place the porcini and 1 cup of broth in a microwaveable glass measuring cup. Cover with plastic wrap, leaving a vent. Microwave for 3 minutes or until bubbling. Set aside for 10 minutes to soften.

Meanwhile, warm the oil in a large pot over high heat. Add the baby bella mushrooms, garlic, rosemary, red-pepper flakes, and salt. Cook, stirring, for about 5 minutes or until the mushrooms start to give off liquid. Turn off the heat.

Drain the porcini through a fine sieve lined with a coffee filter. Save the broth. Rinse the porcini and chop. Add the porcini, mushroom broth, chicken broth, water, and tomatoes to the pot. Cook over medium-low heat for 20 minutes for the flavors to blend.

Place a slice of toasted bread in the bottom of each soup bowl. Ladle the soup over the bread. Sprinkle with the Parmesan.

Note

Fresh rosemary is preferable to commercially dried leaves but if necessary, 2 teaspoons of dried rosemary may replace the fresh. Home-dried leaves, which crumble more readily than the commercially packaged rosemary, are also good to use. When you buy a bunch of fresh rosemary for a recipe, if you don’t use it all right away,  it makes sense to dry or freeze the remaining branches so they don’t go to waste.

I crave panzanella in August. This home-spun jumble of stale bread, succulent tomatoes, aromatic basil, olive oil, wine vinegar, cucumber and onion is restorative. Each refreshing bite perks me up, makes me feel more  like a budding flower and less like a scorched weed.

I first tasted panzanella in the countryside outside of Florence. Friends told me that the dish evolved as thrifty country cooks combined stale bread with juicy seasonal produce to create a quick, inexpensive salad.

These days, the challenge to putting together a good panzanella is in obtaining ingredients that will give the dish a genuine flavor and the proper texture. The keys are the bread, the tomatoes, and the olive oil.

Bread

Panzanella requires a rustic whole-grain loaf–with no fat or sweeteners–that won’t dissolve into goo when moistened. (LaBrea Bakery whole grain loaf is one commercially-produced example. To find a store near you, go to La Brea Bakery.) Many so-called Italian breads are made from white flour and dough enhancers and are just too fluffy to hold their crumb. If you’re a baker, you can prepare the Italian Wheat Berry Bread for the panzanella. If you think your bread won’t hold up to the water bath, I recommend skipping that process. Instead, simple toast the bread lightly and then cut it into cubes before tossing with the vegetables and dressing.

Tomatoes

Choose very ripe fruit that’s grown in your area. I like heirloom varieties which are like tomato-juice machines.

Olive oil
The fruity taste of extra-virgin oil is essential. When it’s mixed with the vegetables and basil, it produces a seasonal elixir.

While I prefer the classic simplicity of the following recipe, you can add protein or other vegetables to a panzanella to make it a one-dish meal. Add-ins include lettuce, radishes, celery, fennel, prosciutto, canned tuna, Parmigiano Reggiano, Gruyère, capers, artichoke hearts, hard-cooked eggs and roasted red peppers.

Panzanella (Tuscan Bread and Tomato Salad)

Makes 6 to 8 servings

1 loaf (about 1 pound) rustic Italian Wheat Berry Bread, cut into 1/2-inch cubes, dried

1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil

2 tablespoons red or white wine vinegar

Salt and pepper

1 1/2 pounds ripe locally-grown tomatoes, cut into chunks

1 medium cucumber, peeled, quartered lengthwise, sliced

1/2 medium red onion (about 4 ounces), halved and thinly sliced

1/2 cup slivered fresh basil

Place the bread in a large bowl. Cover with cold water. Allow to soak for 30 to 60 seconds until bread is saturated. Test by squashing a piece between thumb and finger. Drain. Scoop the bread in cupped handfuls, squeezing out excess water but taking care not to pulverize the bread. Transfer to a platter. Continue until all the bread is squeezed.

In a large bowl, whisk the oil, vinegar, and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Add the tomatoes, cucumber, onion, and basil. Toss. Add the bread and toss. Season to taste with pepper and more salt, if needed.

What’s your go-to Italian summer dish? Tell us about it.

Every coastal region of Italy has a seafood stew. Tuscany— or more specifically the port town of Livorno—has cacciucco (ka-CHOO-ko). While the word is fun to pronounce, the dish is even more pleasurable to eat.

I yearn for cacciucco in the spring. It was in primavera that I first tasted cacciucco at Trattoria Benvenuto in Florence and I haven’t been the same since.

Some say the dish must have at least five types of seafood to correspond to the five Cs in the word. The more fish and shellfish, the better the flavor. And select good quality red wine and artisanal quality bread with good texture to soak up the amazing broth.

Choose the freshest fish available. Use one type or as many as three or four, to comprise 2 pounds. Sea bass, monkfish, cod, halibut, swordfish, shark, tilapia, turbot, catfish, or red snapper are all good choices.

As for the shellfish, in this recipe, I’m using littleneck clams and shrimp but baby calamari, octopus, mussels, or scallops may be substituted.

Cacciucco

Serves 6 to 8

3/4       cup olive oil
1          large red onion, coarsely chopped
4          large cloves garlic, minced
1 1/2    teaspoons dried crushed red-pepper flakes
1           cup dry red wine
1        can (28 ounces) crushed plum tomatoes
1/2       cup minced fresh flat-leaf parsley, divided
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
24       littleneck clams
24                medium or large unpeeled shrimp
2 to 2 1/2         pounds mild white-fleshed fish fillets, cut in 2-inch chunks
3          cups cold water
6 to 8 thick slices Rustic Bread, toasted

Heat the oil in a 6-quart Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the onion, garlic, and pepper flakes. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 10 minutes or until soft. Add the wine. Increase the heat to medium-high. Cook at a brisk simmer for 5 minutes or until the wine no longer smells of alcohol. Add the tomatoes, all but 2 tablespoons of the parsley, and salt. Bring to a boil then reduce the heat until sauce simmers gently. Cover and cook for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, for the flavors to blend.

Add the clams and shrimp; stir. Add the fish and stir gently. Increase the heat to high. Cook for 2 minutes or until liquid starts to bubble. Add the water. Cover and reduce the heat so the mixture simmers but does not boil. Cook for 10 minutes or until the clams open and the other seafood is opaque in the center. Discard any clams that will not open. Spoon over bread set in pasta plates or large shallow bowls. Sprinkle with the remaining parsley.

What Italian seafood stews have you savored and where? Tell us!