It is always good to visit Sicily in May 2016 and this time I spent most of my time mainly in South-eastern Sicily. But we did wander elsewhere – distances are not that great.
As usual, the relatives in Ragusa and Augusta made sure that I was well fed, but I do enjoy getting out and about and seeing the changes and trends that are evident in their food culture. I do that here in Australia as well, or for that matter any place I revisit.
Below are some photos of Sicily and links to existing recipes from the blog … more writing and more recipes soon.
Stunning scenery
Acireale
And Granmichele,
A Nature Reserve near Donna Fugata
Antiquity
A very old church in Modica.
Inside this old church that has been a stable for many years.
Area Archeologica di Cava d’Ispica
The old stone walls, some being repaired or rebuilt.
I prefer the Christmas celebration to be on Christmas Eve, called La Vigilia (the Vigil) in Italian.
As for Christmas Day itself? I address this in other posts, but if I am hosting Christmas Day, I probably prefer the same type of food.
In Sicily, as in many parts of Italy, the Christmas Eve celebration is deeply rooted in Catholicism and tradition, and one of the most cherished customs is sharing a festive meal with family and friends on La Vigilia. This meal features fish, and/ or vegetarian content.
I originally wrote this post on December 20, 2012, to share the types of Sicilian fish dishes I might cook here in Australia on Christmas Eve (or during the festive period). And guess what? The traditions and recipes are just as relevant today, so I’m bringing it back to the spotlight for another festive season!
Italy is filled with centuries-old Catholic traditions of fasting and abstaining from meat on certain holy days, including Fridays, Good Friday and the Vigil of Christmas. Over time, this once-simple custom has evolved into the grand feast that marks the start of Christmas celebrations.
After the meal, many Italians head to Midnight Mass, to honour the holiday’s religious significance. While some choose to celebrate the vigil without attending Mass, others prefer to take part in the Mass service on Christmas Day itself. Regardless of when or how they celebrate, the spirit of togetherness and tradition for La Vigilia remains for families across Italy.
Italians typically have a more subdued occasion on Christmas Day, often visiting friends but keeping their meals light. In Australia, however, for numerous Italians Christmas Day is widely celebrated, especially in multicultural marriages and for larger families.
I have many readers from U.S. who are probably wondering if for La Vigilia (Christmas Eve) I will take part in the so-called The Feast of the Seven Fishes.
The Feast of the Seven Fishes is a tradition which is strong among Italian Americans of Sicilian and Southern Italian background that they strongly adhere to.This tradition is particularly present in the Northeast U.S. (such as New York and New Jersey) and practiced in various forms in other parts of U.S.
It involves a big meal with a variety of seafood dishes, typically featuring seven different types of fish or seven different courses, although some families may serve more or fewer depending on their traditions.
I first encountered TheFeast of the Seven Fishes through a conversation with Mary Taylor Simeti who was visiting Australia for a Food and wine Festival when we were both interviewed by Jane O’Connor for an article in the December 2010 issue of Italianicious. We were asked what we had on our tables on Christmas day and we both said that we generally ate lightly as we liked to celebrate on Christmas Eve.
Mary, is a revered voice in Sicilian cuisine and culture, is a brilliant and widely published writer and historian whose insights into the food of Sicily are unparalleled. She has written very notable books and articles in Italian and English. She is originally American, has married a Sicilian and lives in Sicily, and has done so for many years. She is a strong Sicilian voice. As we sat down to discuss the tradition, I couldn’t help but feel intrigued by this notion, though both Mary and I were quick to admit that we had never encountered it in Sicily itself. In all our cumulative years (especially Mary’s) of experience with Sicilian food and culture, The Feast of the Seven Fishes had not appeared on a Sicilian table.
And why is seven the significant number? That’s anybody’s guess, and it is fun to speculate.
While the number “seven” is not strictly required, it holds significant symbolic meaning. In Catholicism, the number seven is considered sacred, representing the seven days of Creation, the seven sacraments, the seven virtues or deadly sins, or perhaps the seven hills of Rome.
In my bookSicilian Seafood Cooking, and on my blog you’ll find a range of recipes perfect for Christmas Eve. I really like the idea of preparing several courses, and it’s easy to start with something light like a vegetarian dish (bring on grilled zucchini, eggplants and peppers or a Caponata or Parmigiana!) or a seafood salad or fish—thinly sliced, raw and marinaded.
A small serve of a seafood pasta could follow or some other light serving of rolled fish or a baked fish or a baccalà(salted cod) dish. Baccala is traditionally eaten in many parts of Italy including in Trieste where I lived as a child. In many parts of Italy. eel is also popular.
There are also many recipes that could be useful for this holiday period on my blog. Here are only a few:
The Sicilian caponata is commonly made with eggplants especially in Palermo However, my mother’s family comes from Catania where this version of caponata also contains peppers (capsicums) as one of the principal ingredients. This regional variationis also found in many other parts of Sicily and not just in the southeastern areas.I’ve enjoyed this peppery caponata in restaurants across various Sicilian cities, including Syracuse, Sciacca, Mazara del Vallo, Agrigento, Ragusa Ibla, and Caltagirone.
Apart from the main vegetables (eggplants as in Palermo or eggplants and peppers as in Catania) the principal and most common flavourings that characterise any Sicilian caponata are: celery, onion, capers, green olives and the sweet and sour, caramelised sauce made with vinegar and sugar (the agro dolce).
Sicilians love to debate the authentic version of caponata (as they do with all recipes), with each family having their own cherished version. Some prefer tomato paste instead of chopped tomatoes, while others swear by the addition of garlic or even chocolate. Nuts like almonds, pine nuts, or pistachios frequently make an appearance, and herbs such as basil, oregano, or mint vary from one recipe to another. Some versions include raisins or currants, while others add fresh pears. One neighbor of mine, whose family also from Catania, even adds a few potatoes.This is very foreign to me, but obviously it happens.
Summer and autumn are prime seasons for making caponata, as peppers and eggplants are at their peak and this is a reason why it is perfect for an Australian Christmas. However, Sicily’s climate allows for eggplants and peppers year-round, thanks to the extensive use of serre (greenhouses) that were initially installed in great numbers in 1960-1965. These have continued to grow in numbers. Sicily, followed by Spain has the highest numbers of eggplants in terms of cultivation
Caponata brings a burst of flavour and tradition to the Christmas festivities and is also served during New Year celebrations. This iconic, vibrant dish, with its rich blend of eggplants, peppers, (and to a non-Sicilian), other surprising ingredients such as capers, olives and agrodolce sauce, lifts the spirits of the season and makes the meal a celebration.
Before the serre (glasshouses), eggplants and peppers were not in season and there were versions of caponata made with green leafy vegetables (pre-cooked in boiling salted water, drained, then added to the sautéed onion, olives, capers and the agro dolce sauce). This was called the Christmas caponata. There is also a not very common version of winter caponata made with celery, almonds and sultanas that I rather like, (recipe link below).
Unlike typical side dishes, caponata is often served as a small appetizer (or a spuntino – a snack), paired with a slice of bread to mop up the juices. It is intended to whet the appetite. After enjoying this savory starter, a meal might continue with a primo (first course), a secondo (main dish), a contorno (side vegetables), a dolce (dessert) and probably more sweets.
I always fry my vegetables separately because vegetables cook at different rates and it is far better to fry or sauté food in batches than crowd the pan.
Traditionally in caponata, the celery is pre-cooked in salted, boiling water before being added to the other ingredients. However, because I like the taste of the crunchy celery I have never pre-cooked it.
The legacy of my grandmother’s caponata continues to thrive. Friends who have savored my version are now inspired to make it themselves.
I cooked caponata for my cousin, who visited me in Melbourne from the US several years ago. He and his wife were enthralled by the dish, and it stirred up fond memories of his mother’s cooking—my aunt (my mother’s sister), who died several years ago. He asked me to send him the recipe, and when he received it, he replied:
“As I read your recipe for caponata, I could smell the flavors, just like when my mother was making it.”
Now, he’s sharing the joy of caponata with his friends and family back in the US, keeping the tradition alive across the ocean.
This version of caponata was published in the summer issue of the magazine, Italianicious (Essence of Italy, Dec 2009). The summer issue was a special edition on Sicily and I was asked to contribute. Each issue of Italianicious contains information and stories about all things Italian in Italy and in Australia.
Do not feel intimidated by the long list of steps to cook it. It really is a very simple process, but it does take some time to make.
INGREDIENTS
For 4-6 people
extra virgin olive oil, 1 cup (more or less – depending how much the vegetables will absorb)
eggplants, 2 large, dark skinned variety
peppers, 3, preferably 1 green, 1 red, 1 yellow (variation of colour is mainly for appearance, but the red and yellow ones taste sweeter)
onion, 1, large, sliced thinly,
red tomatoes, 2 medium size, peeled and chopped, or 2 tablespoons of tomato paste and a little water
capers, ½ cup, salted or in brine
green olives, ¾ cup, stoned, chopped
celery, 2-3 tender stalks and the pale green leaves (both from the centre of the celery)
white, wine vinegar, 2 spoonfulls
½ cup sugar,
1 tablespoon of salt (to soak the eggplants)
some freshly ground pepper and extra salt as needed
basil leaves, several
PROCESSES
Preparation of the ingredients:
Cut the eggplant into cubes (approx 30mm) – do not peel. Place the cubes into abundant water with about 1 tablespoon of salt. Leave for about 30 minutes – this will keep the flesh white and the eggplant is said to absorb less oil if soaked previously.
Prepare the capers – if they are the salted variety, ensure they have been rinsed thoroughly and then soaked for about 30 minutes before use, and then rinsed again.
Cut the peppers into slices (approx 20mm) or into rectangular shapes.Slice the onion.
Slice the celery sticks and the green leaves finely.Peel, and coarsely chop the tomatoes (or use tomato paste).
The Cooking:
Drain the eggplants and squeeze them to remove as much water as possible – I use a clean tea towel.
Heat a large frypan over medium heat with ¾ cup of the extra virgin olive oil.Add eggplant cubes and sauté until soft and golden (about 10-12 minutes). Place the drained eggplants into a large bowl and set aside (all of the vegetables will be added to this same bowl). Drain the oil from the eggplants back into the same frypan and re-use this oil to fry the next ingredients.
Add some new oil (to the left-over eggplant oil) plus a little salt and sauté the peppers, until wilted and beginning to turn brown (about 10-12 minutes). Remove the peppers from the pan and drain the oil from the peppers back into the same frypan. Place the peppers in the bowl with the eggplants.
Add a little more oil to the pan and sauté the celery gently for 5-7 minutes, so that it retains some of its crispness (in more traditional recipes, the celery is always boiled until soft before being sautéed). Sprinkle the celery with a little salt while it is cooking. Remove the celery from the pan and add it to the eggplants and peppers.
Sauté the onion, having added a little more oil to the frypan. Add a little salt and cook until translucent. Add the tomatoes or the tomato paste (with a little water) to the onions, and allow their juice to evaporate. Add the capers and olives. Allow these ingredients to cook gently for 1- 2 minutes. Empty the contents of the frypan into the bowl with the other cooked vegetables.
For the agro- dolce sauce (sweet and sour sauce):
Add the sugar to the frypan (already coated with the caramelised flavours from the vegetables). Heat it very gently until it begins to melt and bubble. Add the vinegar and evaporate. Incorporate the cooked vegetables into the frypan with the agro-dolce sauce.
Add ground pepper, check for salt and add more if necessary. Add basil leaves: these are likely to discolour and I usually remove them and replace them with fresh basil leaves at the time of serving.
Gently toss all of the ingredients over low heat for 2-3 minutes to blend the flavours.
Remove the caponata from the pan and cool before placing it into one or more containers. Store in the fridge until ready to use – it will keep well for up to one week and it improves with age.
The final touches, select from the following options and sprinkle on the top of the caponata:
Crispy pangrattato – breadcrumbs from day-old, good quality bread. The crumbs are tossed in a pan with a little hot extra virgin olive oil until they are golden, toasted and crunchy.
Pine nuts or blanched chopped almonds, toasted.
Fresh basil or mint leaves.
Eat the caponata at room temperature accompanied by good quality bread to mop up the juices.
*** I first published this post In Feb 2010.
In my Book Sicilian Seafood Cooking, there is a whole chapter devoted to Caponata – made with various vegetables.
Sicilian Seafood Cooking was first published in Nov. 2011 and republished in Dec. 2014.
Maccarruna (maccheroni in Italian) is sometimes used as the generic word for pasta and is still common, especially in Naples and Sicily. It is also the term used in ancient recipe books. Most pasta, of whatever sort, was labelled maccheroni until 1850-70, after which local folk names were widely adopted by producers and consumers.
There are many explanations for the origins of the term maccarruna. Some researchers believe that it comes from the term, maccare – to squash. Others believe that it comes from the word maccu – a Sicilian, thick soup specialty made with pulses and pasta. There are also Greek words: macron meaning long, or makaria a dough of barley and broth, or makar – it means ‘very happy’ – the state maccarruna eaters presumably experience. Whatever the origins of the word maccarruna, Sicilians consume large quantities of it.
There are many small shapes of fresh pasta made in Sicilian homes. The following are some of the favourite maccarruna.
Gnocculi, gnucchiteddi, cavati, caviateddi are the most common names for gnocchi or gnocchetti (Italian) shapes. Some are rigati (have ridges on the surface) and some are lisci (smooth). All have an indentation in the centre to ensure even cooking.
Gnocchi look like dumplings and in Italy can be made out of potatoes, bread, fine cornmeal or semolina and with wheat flour. Sicilians prefer gnocculi or gnucchiteddi (the smaller shape), made with durum wheat flour. They are called different names in different regions in Sicily. When my relatives in Ragusa make gnucchiteddi, they include 1-2 eggs for each 800g-1k of durum wheat flour and as much water as the dough absorbs, but the standard practice in other parts of Sicily is to use no eggs at all.
Pasta making is a family affair. The photo was taken during my last trip to Sicily. The extended family is shaping gnucchiteddi by using a very useful gadget that belonged to my great grandmother. As you can see it looks like a loom. Very fine strips of dough are rolled around a needle-like reed and then the reed (and the shapes) are rolled on the shaping device. This fuses the dough together and gives each of the gnucchiteddi, the grooves on the surface.
My aunt also makes causunnedda, these are cooked with kohlrabi (bulb and leaves). Sometimes they are cooked with kohlrabi and borlotti, in spring broadbeans are a favourite. Cooking home made pasta is alwys a family affair. Below is a photo of my cousin with a large bowl of causunnedda, ready to take to the table. Next to her is another relative ready to assist.
Laura and Nancy in the U.S. have a great food blog called ‘Jellypress’. They invite readers to share photos of old foodways called ‘Hands on’ and I have contributed to this very interesting section in their blog.
