Tag: Water mills Sicily

RICOTTA RAVIOLI and STONE GROUND FLOUR

RAVIOLI DI RICOTTA e MULINO DI CEREALI A PIETRA

Ricotta ravioli and stone ground flour in Chiaramonte, South Eastern Sicily

This is Franco the miller who mills cereali a pietra – in other words he produces stone-ground flour from high quality wheat from ancient strains. He and his partner have an old water mill and they are experimenting with reviving old strains of wheat – so far so good! And there are farmers who are growing the old strains and buyers who are supporting it. Many of them are restaurateurs who are making pasta and bread in their restaurants.

The area of Sicily where this is happening is Chiaramonte Gulfi– I am so impressed and interested in what is happening in this south-eastern part of Sicily (see post about Massimiliano the Butcher).

The grain smelt wonderful and watching the stones grinding and the sifting process was an amazing experience. The flour needs to be kept in cool conditions or used quickly as it does not have any additives or bleaches, the germ of the wheat is maintained in the milling – flour that is good for us in other words.

Franco does not waste the by-products.  The bran is sold as animal fodder and he has customers and supporters who are interested in using the finer bran in baking. We sampled some bran biscuits produced by one of his followers.

The photo below is of the water powered mechanism to power the grinding of the wheat.

There was another reason why I was interested in this mill and that is that my grandparents in Ragusa used to have an old water mill down by the river at the bottom of Ragusa Ibla. It no longer functioned as a mill and they used it as their get-away from the city, especially in the summer months, and grew their herbs and vegetables there. Being a regular visitor to Ragusa as a child I loved the mill (we travelled from Trieste and visited my grandparents each summer for two months each year).

I bought some of Franco’s flour home to my aunt, Zia Niluzza, who lives in Ragusa and still makes pasta by hand on special occasions. My visit this time was the special occasion and she produced her exceptionally good, traditional ricotta ravioli that are a specialty of this area of Sicily.

The ravioli di ricotta from Ragusa are usually served with a strong sugo (meat and a tomato-based sauce) made with pork meat and pork sausages. In Ragusa they add a little sugar (1 teaspoon per cup of ricotta; other local variations are to include a little orange peel or finely cut fresh sweet marjoram (Maggiorana). This herb is not common in Sicily but where it is used in Italian cooking  it is added to delicate dishes.

My aunt also made her special gnochetti. Rather than eating one kind of pasta at a time, we piled both ravioli and pasta into the one plate and helped ourselves to more sugo – but I noticed that she now uses less pork and I did not detect any pork rind in this sugo. Rind is also a common additive in this part of Sicily. Even old school Sicilians are all health conscious these days. I did however note that she adds lard to certain pastries!

For the ravioli you will need fresh pasta sheets and strong sugo made with meat tomatoes and tomato paste.

Make the ravioli:
The most authentic and quickest way to cut the ravioli is by hand. There is no prescribed size – they can be either round or square (about 7cm/3in across) or half-moon shaped (a 9cm/4in circle folded over).

To make individual ravioli, cut pasta into circles or squares. Place heaped teaspoons of stuffing in the centre of each, continuing until all the stuffing is used. For half-moon shapes fold the pasta over the filling. For others, lay another circle or square on top, then moisten the edges with a little water and
press together carefully to seal properly (press hard on the edges and spread the pasta to a single thickness, so they cook evenly).

Set the finished ravioli on a lightly floured cloth. They can rest in a cool place for up two hours.

To make more than one raviolo at a time:
Cut the pasta into long rectangular strips about 9cm wide. Place heaped teaspoons of stuffing about 5 cm apart (beginning about 2cm/.in from the margin of the sheet). Cover with another strip of pasta of the same size.
Cut each raviolo free with a knife or serrated pasta wheel. Repeat the process, until all the pasta and the stuffing is used up.

Cooking:
Cook ravioli as you would any pasta. Lower them into the water a few at a time and scoop each out when it floats to the surface.
Dress them carefully with the sauce so as not to break.

My Zia Niluzza, an exceptional cook.

 

SEDANO RAPA (Celeriac and how to eat it)

What Is Sedano Rapa and how do yOu eat it?

Sedano rapa is celeriac, and whenever I buy one at Melbourne’s Queen Victoria Market, someone invariably asks me: “What do you do with it?”

The same thing happens when I buy cavolo nero, cime di rapa, artichokes and, occasionally, fennel, lthough fennel has now become familiar enough in Australia to attract fewer puzzled looks.

Celeriac is certainly not a beautiful vegetable at first sight. Knobbly, rough-skinned and often trailing roots, it looks rather unpromising. But underneath that rugged exterior is dense, creamy-white flesh with a fresh celery fragrance and a flavour that is earthy, slightly nutty and much more delicate than its appearance suggests.

It is also remarkably versatile. Celeriac can be eaten raw or cooked, boiled, mashed, roasted or turned into soup. In Italy, sedano rapa is particularly associated with the north, although, as I discovered through my own family, it was certainly not unknown in Sicily.

celeriaccrop_0017
Sedano rapa, or celeriac, may look rather unattractive before peeling, but beneath the knobbly exterior is firm, fragrant white flesh. As you can see, the leaves are like celery.
When Is Celeriac in Season?

Celeriac is a cool-weather vegetable. In Australia it is generally at its best from late autumn through winter, with good supplies during July and August, but I have also found it to be available well into October. In Italy and elsewhere in the Northern Hemisphere, its season extends broadly from autumn into early spring.

Whenever possible, I buy celeriac with its leaves still attached. Fresh, green leaves are a useful indication of freshness, but there is another reason: I use them.

The stronger outer leaves can flavour soups and stocks, while the small, tender leaves from the centre can be added to salads.

We Italians, or at least this Italian, do not like throwing useful food away.

How to Prepare Celeriac

The first task is to deal with that intimidating exterior.

I always buy my celeriac with leaves, this is  an indication of how fresh the bulb is. Cut away the root end and peel the celeriac generously with a sharp knife, removing the rough skin, knobs and crevices. Once the rough exterior is removed, celeriac is dense, smooth and creamy-white, with a distinctive fresh celery taste and aroma.

Celeriac discolours quite quickly when exposed to air, much as an apple does. If I am serving it raw, I therefore prepare it last and dress it immediately with lemon juice or another acidic dressing.

Celeriac the Triestine Way

In Trieste, we used to eat sedano rapa bollito e in insalata – boiled celeriac dressed simply as a salad.

The celeriac was peeled, cut into large pieces and boiled in salted water until tender but not falling apart. Once drained and cooled slightly, it was dressed with extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice or vinegar, salt and pepper.

There is nothing elaborate about it, but this kind of simple preparation is typical of so much Italian home cooking: good produce, cooked appropriately and dressed without disguising its flavour.

It can be served warm or at room temperature and makes an excellent accompaniment to meat.

Celeriac in Northern Italian Cooking

Celeriac is much more familiar in the cooking of northern Italy than it is in many southern regions, and traditional preparations vary considerably.

In Verona, for example, celeriac is made into substantial soups with borlotti beans, onion and carrot, enriched with meat stock and fresh pork sausage. This is the sort of hearty, sustaining food that makes sense in the colder climate of northern Italy.

In Piedmont, celeriac also appears in lighter soups made with broth and served with good bread and grated cheese. The way they present it is very much like a French onion soup.

And then there is one of Piedmont’s most distinctive dishes—bagna cauda.

Raw Celeriac with Bagna Cauda

I particularly like celeriac raw, and its crisp texture makes it an excellent vegetable to serve with bagna cauda.

Bagna cauda, literally “hot bath”is the famous Piedmontese warm sauce traditionally made with anchovies, garlic and olive oil, with butter appearing in many versions. Raw and lightly cooked vegetables are dipped into it at the table.

Celeriac is ideal for this dish as its fresh, strong flavour complements the salty richness of anchovy, butter and garlic. It is also crisp and aromatic, making it perfect for dipping into warm Piedmontese bagna cauda. Cut it into batons, rub it with a little lemon juice to keep it white.

Celeriac and Apple Salad

My preferred method of consuming celeriac is raw in a salad. This is not a traditional Italian recipe but one I personally enjoy.

I julienne the peeled celeriac and combine it with apple, then dress everything immediately with extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice, salt and freshly ground black pepper. The lemon adds freshness and helps prevent both the apple and celeriac from turning brown.

From there, the salad can take several directions.

Red Radicchio

Radicchio adds colour and pleasant bitterness. Watercress is another favourite addition, and rocket works well too. A little egg mayonnaise can make the salad richer and turn it into something more substantial.

The contrast is what makes it so appealing: crisp celeriac, sweet-tart apple, bitter leaves and a sharp lemon dressing.

IMG_4227 (1)
A fresh celeriac and apple salad with radicchio – the lemon dressing adds zing while helping to keep the celeriac and apple pale.

Other Ways I Cook Celeriac

Celeriac also responds beautifully to cooking.

I make it into soup, sometimes on its own and sometimes combined with potato. I also mash celeriac with potato, adding butter and cream for richness, or extra virgin olive oil and lemon juice for a lighter, more Mediterranean version.

It can also be roasted. Cut into chunks or wedges and tossed with olive oil, it develops a sweeter, nuttier flavour and crisp golden edges while remaining soft inside.

And boiled celeriac, simply dressed with good olive oil and lemon or vinegar, remains one of the easiest and most satisfying ways to eat it.

A Sicilian Connection

Although sedano rapa is much more closely associated with northern Italian cooking, it also has a place in my family’s Sicilian memories.

My father spent his youth in Ragusa before moving to Trieste. He remembered his mother boiling celeriac and dressing it simply with olive oil. Apparently, my grandparents also grew it at their mulino, a water mill near Ragusa Ibla.

The countryside surrounding Ragusa once housed numerous water mills, constructed along waterways to facilitate the movement of water for wheat grinding. These places were part of the agricultural life of the region.

My grandparents’ mill was also a place where they kept their dogs and cultivated a few vegetables.

When I visited Sicily as a child, we went to the mulino often. During the hot summers, it was somewhere to walk to and escape for a while from their apartment in the city.

That old mulino became part of my memories of Ragusa.

Years later, while watching an episode of Inspector Montalbano, I saw Montalbano going to a restaurant in an old mill. For a moment I was convinced I recognised my grandparents’ mulino. My relatives in Ragusa soon disappointed me: it was not theirs.

So much for my moment of television fame by association.

The Mulini of Ragusa

On a later visit to Sicily, I visited another old water mill that had been restored and brought back into use. Once again, grain was being stone-ground there, this time producing high-quality flour from organically grown wheat.

There was something satisfying about seeing an old agricultural structure working again for the purpose for which it had originally been built.

And perhaps that is why a celeriac can lead me so far from the vegetable itself.

I may begin with a knobbly sedano rapa at the Queen Victoria Market and a stranger asking, “What do you do with it?” But food has a habit of carrying memories with it—from a simple salad in Trieste to my grandmother’s kitchen in Ragusa and an old water mill in the Sicilian countryside.

So, what do you do with celeriac?

Quite a lot, as it turns out.

RICOTTA RAVIOLI and STONE GROUND FLOUR

PIEDMONTESE favourites

TASMANIA, FOOD, ART, HOBART and Bagna Cauda

Kohlrabi, Fennel, Celeriac and Daikon make a good salad (and other recipes)