Final posting

This was a travel blog, not an ongoing one. So, as my trip is now finished, so is the blog. I've uploaded more photographs (see various postings) and inserted some recipes (see entry "Anchovy and Trofie"). I hope readers enjoyed the vicarious journey. I leave you with the view from the Cinque Terre trail, coming over the mountain to behold the village of Vernazza. Ciao! --mn

how cool is this?

This has nothing to do with my trip but I just had to share it with you: the underwater restaurant at Rangali in the Maldives (thanks to J for the link). Those are real fish swimming just outside the dining room, which has 270-degree view (overhead and all around, save for the entry way, which leads up and out. For more photos, see LINK, left) Perhaps they could use a guest-lecturer in U.S. history?... I returned to Chicago yesterday, where it is warm and humid. I am happy to be home. As my trip is over, this blog will come to an end. But I will upload my own photos taken on the trip and also some recipes of the dishes that I've been describing--so check back for the enhanced version.

mind the gap

A day in London before returning home. Lunch with my American friends living here, at a pub in Notting Hill near their home. A departure from all the pasta I've been consuming: English asparagus (just in season) with goat cheese, and roasted hake over garlic-mashed potatoes with baked tomatoes and spinach--lovely. A visit to the Tate Britian museum, which was showing the life work of the modernist painter Prunella Clough. I really like her work; the earlier works are quasi-abstract paintings of workmen and work scenes; then they become increasingly abstract and urban inspired. (PHOTO above, "Electrical Landscape") For review of the show, and a commentary on British women painters generally, see LINK, left. I also loved the work of Arthur Wallis (1855-1942), described as a "seaman, ice-cream seller and rag-and-bone man" before becoming a painter late in life. His paintings convey his sense of the sea as he remembered it, though they not at all nostalgic. (PHOTO below)

My friends had a small dinner party; the other guests were two women from the neighborhood who jointly own a shop in London (actually, three branches). They specialize in home decor and furnishings; all bought directly from artisans and companies abroad (Europe, India, etc). See their website, BRISSI, left. Dinner was a home-cooked Indian meal, with lamb kebabs eaten with lettuce leaves (the lamb marinated overnight) and served with Bollinger; chicken sauteed in Indian spices; and rice. I cannot do it justice because I do not understand the spicing system. (My next project??) Dessert: vanilla clotted-cream ice cream with See's peanut brittle. Dare I say: it rivals gelato!

More immediately--to the airport, home, and diet!

CIAO

My last day in Torino. A morning walk in the city center, quiet because the city forbids private cars in the city center on Sundays, in order to curb pollution... Then a final lunch with M&M and a friend of their's, an art historian, at a restaurant in the Parco Valentino along the River Po. It was warm and sunny, a beautiful day, especially after a week of rain. We walked first through the "medieval" village and castle, which was built for the 1884 international exposition in the style of 15th-century Piedmont; and then in the botantical garden. Lots of people--bikers, walkers, families; people rowing and kayaking on the river...

Lunch: The restaurant is on the river. If you look closely at the photo of the medieval castle, you can see the restaurant in the foreground, right. The meal: to start I had a tarte made with roasted-red peppers, anchovy, and cheese. (Red peppers, by the way, are called peperoni. How this name became used to describe a kind of pizza topping in the U.S. is unknown; but my menu-reading has been confused until M. explained this to me. He also informed me one cannot find "bologna"/baloney in the city of Bologna.) Then little potato gnocchi with baby squid, shrimp, and zuccini, in a Piedmont sauce made with tomato and cheese and some spices that I could not identify. Very tasty! M&M had as their starter a lovely pasta dish, made with green (spinach) and yellow (egg) pasta, that they call "straw and hay", with asparagus and a creamy but light cheese sauce. It was beautiful to behold. The cheese is a local product called Raschera, they said it was probably not availalble in the US but I would not be surprised if Fairways had it.

GRAZIE MILLE to my hosts and new friends in Italy!

papadoupolos

A dinner party last night at the home of FV, a young Italian historian at U-Torino, who is writing a book on the Statue of Liberty (did you know it was originally intended as a French monument at the mouth of the Suez Canal?). Her parents live in an apartment with a view of the Alps (on a clear day--not yesterday--I'm told you can see Mont Blanc); they are retired teachers--he a philosopher professor, she a schoolteacher. Another amazing home-cooked meal, including various appetizers; beef (brisket?) in a delicious sauce; red-peppers and onions (I think you just throw it in a pot, the trick is to simmer for one hour). For dessert, a chocolate cake made with nuts, fruit, and egg-whites, called papadoupolos--from Trieste, of Greek origin, but a Venetian recipe (nobody could really explain this genealogy)--served with zabalone sauce. Mrs. V. also makes her own dessert liquers, one from herbs (sage, thyme, rosemary, and others) and one from orange peel. F is engaged to a Norweigan scholar and there was another guest who is an Italian American from New York who has lived in Italy for 15 years so there was lively conversation about cross-cultural and transnational life.

Breakfast-clarification

I have received some emails to the effect that we have been eating all of that breakfast described a few days ago. Please! those are all the choices that are available. We are not eating all of it!!

Leather

Yesterday -- steady rain all day and my last day of teaching in Vercelli; in the afternoon K., my traveling companion, gave a workshop to Univ. Torino women's studies and leaders in city government about workplace-sexual harassment. I had dinner with a colleague, an Americanist scholar in Torino, and his wife, at their home on the other side of the Po River. Home-made pesto with potato gnocchi; roast beef; a vegetable-cheese-ham loaf, grilled eggplant, zuccini and roasted peppers. For dessert, fresh strawberries dressed with lemon juice, a nice combination. Dolcetta wine that came from a friend-of-the-family's vintner's jug. Discussion ranged from influence of the Pope in Italian public policy to the Sopranos and Borat.

Today: K left for home this morning, after breakfast. I went with M&M to Serravalle, a designer-outlet mall about one hour from Torino. It is well situated, about equidistant from Torino, Milan, and Genoa (though a bit closer to the latter two). Although there are single-manufacturer-factory outlets in Italy (the Prada one in Tuscany is notoriously hard to find) the outlet mall is a new thing in Italy. To which we say: Bravo! Now, this was *serious* business. The Prada store was a bust (wierd shoes, no bags) but other stores had fantastic stuff, even if just to admire (Cavalli, Versace, etc). The Italian shoppers are keen on the US-brand outlets (Nike, Timberland, Calvin Klein) but of course I skipped all of these and concentrated on the Euro stores. I left with leather, leather, and more leather (jacket, bag, and bag...) plus some gifts for the folks at home.

Victoria

I did not tell you about our hotel here in Torino, the Victoria. It is in the center of the old city, close to cafes, shops, museums, and the like. The two notable aspects are (1) the breakfast and (2) the spa. Breakfast (for which they have won an award, from whomever gives out the awards for best-hotel breakfasts) is a lavish buffet, with assorted cheeses, ham and salami, croissants (regular, chocolate, and filled with marmalade), breads and rolls, desserts (linzer torte, fruit tart, chocolate cake, cheese cake, cookies, etc.), hard and soft boiled eggs, various cereals, fruits (fresh, as salad, and dried), nuts (hazelnuts, pistachios, walnuts), greek yogurt, cottage cheese, fresh grapefruit and blood-orange juice, an amazing assortment of preserves and nut-butters (I tried the pistachio-butter; it tastes like, well, pistachio). I saw a super-model type one day eat nuts and a piece of toast. But we love the soft-boiled eggs (fresh, with orange-y yolks and cooked just right, precisely three minutes), eaten with toast with ham. Also the baked apples (with the core removed and the space filled with currants, pine-nuts and cinnamon) with some yogurt. And OJ and cappuccino, of course. (Then, to go, a pain-au-chocolat wrapped in a napkin, and a blood orange. Some dulce and vitamin-C for later in the day.

The spa has a roman-style pool and whirlpool (for more photos, go to LINK, left). There are jets that come out at your back, of course, but also two at calf-level (one for each leg), and then two from the floor, for the bottom of your feet. There is also a great steam-room with an adjacent aromatic shower. This is a semi-darkened, tiled room with a shower-head that is like a waterfall. Then in the ceiling there is another fixture that sprays warm water over your head that is either “tropical” (which smells like citrus, and an orange glow come on in the room) or “strawberry” (blue light). There are also spa-treatments available but we have not done these. The only negative is that it does not open until noon so it’s not available for a morning swim and we are usually out all afternoon and evening, but we went a couple times.

Mole

Yesterday I spoke at a conference at the Univ. of Torino, on undocumented migrants in the US and Europe. I certainly learned a lot about the high immigration rates in southern Europe, the informal economy, and the many "regularization" drives that have legalized the undocumented here. Interestingly, there are many Romanian "illegal" immigrants here but when Romania joined the EU they magically became "welcome" and even have the right to vote!

This section of the university is in the neighborhood of the Mole Antonelliana, a 19th century synagogue with a 167-meter tower (PHOTO, view of the tower and the Via Po). At night an art-installation by the artist Mario Merz creeps up the spire, a series of illuminated-red numbers (very quickly understood as a mathematical progression, even by this math-dummy: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13...etc.) The building now houses the national museum of cinema.

Dinner after the conference at a restaurant, Sotto la Mole (under the Mole) with colleagues, learned about Italian academic politics, especially clientism, though that is beginning to change. A flan made of goat cheese with a piquant marmalade-like sauce; followed by risotto with asparagus and cheese. Risotto is *the* Piedmont dish, creamy and less dry than what you get in the U.S. For dessert, a pistachio gelato, specialty from Sicily (where the pistachio comes from)--stunning flavor, including a slight saltiness, just like eating the nut. Amazing! And little chocolates by the famed choco-maker Guido Gobino, a creamy chocolate-hazelnut concoction. I'm off to buy a case of it today to bring back.

PS. I figured out how to post larger photos so corrected the postings from the Cinque Terre. See earlier postings for full appreciation.

FIAT + Bartok

Tonight I went with M., my host's wife, to Lingotto, on the outskirts of Turin. Here is the former FIAT factory, built in 1927, the first Fordist facility in Europe, over 350,000 square meters, famous for its rooftop track (featured in The Italian Job, starring Michael Caine). Now it is a complex with shopping mall, a hotel (the Meridian), movie-plex, restaurants, etc etc., the conversion was designed by Renzo Piano and opened in the mid-90s. We went to the concert hall with state of the art acoustics (photo below). The program was the Bavarian Radio Orchestra, playing Strauss (symphony no. 30--picture that ape's arm coming down), Wagner (prelude to Tristan and Isolde) and Bartok (suite from Miraculous Mandarin). All very well done, especially the Bartok, heavy but not heavy-handed. For more on the Lingotto project see link, left.

Lunch earlier today with my host at a charming restaurant in Vercelli. Puff-pastry filled with asparagus and cheese, with a cream sauce (divine) and spaghetti with sardine and fresh tomato. It was the first time I had fresh sardine--really excellent, but I think I like the anchovy better yet.

May Day rock

Took the train back to Torino today. It is May 1st, worker's day. In the US we have "labor day" in September because the Americans didn't want to associate with a socialist tradition. It was a rainy day and I did not got out until 8 pm. By then the parades and speeches were over but there was a big sound-stage in the main square, a rock band (pretty good) and a couple hundred people, mostly young people. Dinner: grilled crayfish (huge shrimp) on salad of mache and goat cheese (amazing); ravioli with fresh porcini mushroom sauce (too salty).

the walk, part II (the monster mob sequel)

We took the first train from Moneglia to Corneglia, the third and middle town of the Cinque Terre, our plan being to walk from there to the fourth and fifth towns (Manarola and Riomaggiore, respectively) and then take the ferry back from Riomaggiore to Monterosso (the first town, see yesterday), and then the train back to Moneglia. It was a very smart decision (though we can’t really take credit, we just were lucky). This being Sunday of the holiday weekend, there were ga-zillions of people on the trail. Mostly they were walking in the opposite direction (as they were taking the usual route, from Riomaggiore, and we were going toward it), so we were spared, mostly, their suffering, of being in a slooooow moving crowd. Though it was difficult at points, going against the human tide.

Corneglia is the only town of the cinque terre that is not at sea level, but some 90 meters above. There was a set of stairs from the train station to the town, 365 steps, arrayed in some thirty switchbacks. We took the shuttle up and explored the little town; the shops there were more clever and artistic than in the other towns, and stopped in the local focaccia store. We walked down and proceeded to walk the 2 km trail to Manarola (PHOTO above), an easy, level path, high up but along the coast. Outside Manarola there were steep steep staircases down the rocks to the sea, where the brave were sunbathing and the even more brave were swimming. We ventured down one spiral path to put our feet into the water (very cold, but very clear and deeply blue), so we can say that we have been in the Mediterranean Sea. (PHOTO below) In Manarola all the houses seem to be painted in shades of orange and pink. The local church was having a bake-sale in the square. Fresh lemonade for 50 cents.

From Manarola to Riomaggiore one walks the famous “via dell’amore” (1 km), or lover’s lane, which was somewhat lacking in romance, as it was mobbed with people (including those pushing strollers, etc.) and at one section it goes through a former military fortress (with portals for cannons etc.). My companion dubbed it lover’s leap. Anyway, we finally got to Riomaggiore, the fifth and last, most south-easterly of the cinque terre. One pases through a long tunnel to get from one end of town to the other; the walls of the tunnel are tiled in mosaics. Mob scene to get on the ferry back to Monterosso, though the ferry ride was fabulous with great (re)(sea)views of all the villages… We were reminded at the ferry landing that Italians do not queue up on any kind of orderly fashion but bundle and push to get where they need to go, though it’s never nasty. There was the mob scene to end all mob scenes at the train station. We had taken a quick gelato break—chocolate and hazelnut, “duovo gusti” (two scoops) on a cone—so at least we had some sugar in our system. Years of experience in NYC subway etiquette proved invaluable, as we actually got on the train (sadly, many were left on the platform). The first ten minutes of travel were, shall we say, a challenge for the senses.

In Europe the people walk and hike much more than in the U.S. Nonetheless we may classify the hikers into three major categories:

The serious hiker: mountain shoes, pants that transform into shorts (bottom pant-leg zips off) and with lots of pockets; mesh tee shirt, hat, collapsible walking stick (one in each hand). Typically German or Swiss. Subcategory: fast hikers whose purpose is to get to their destination as quickly as possible, never mind the scenery.
The sensible hiker: sneakers, hat, sunscreen, water bottle.
The clueless hiker: crocs, clogs, flip-flops; pushing a perambulator or carrying a pocket dog; talking on the cell phone. Subcategory: the disco hiker, in high heels, tight clothes, big sunglasses.

Final evaluation: the first hike we took, from Monterosso to Venazza, was the most spectacular, notwithstanding the difficulty of execution. Today we had the satisfaction of seeing all the other villages, as well as seeing all five from the vantage point of the water, and amidst the sea of humanity.

Cucina tipica:
Focaccia formaggio (with melted cheese)
Focaccia rosmario (self explanatory)
Farinata (made with chick-pea flour)
Polpo e patate (octopus and potato salad)
Arancia rosso (blood orange)
Cappon magro (tasty but can't explain it--see link, left, on Ligurian cuisine)
Torta di verdura (vegetable pie, chopped veggie, cheese and rice)
Torta di riso (same made with rice, like a rice pudding pie)

the walk

Dinner last night at a charming restaurant, called Da U Limottu, owned and operated by a local family since 1900. We shared antipasti (“solo mare”—just seafood, including the Lingurian specialty octopus and potato salad, mussels, salted-cod fritter, anchovies in lemony-oil, cappon magro, a seafood and vegetable salad in a green sauce; accompanied by a fried bread that was lightly dusted with salt. Then we shared black-ink spaghetti with mixed seafood; followed by grilled fresh calamari. And a local red wine Niccolo-V. For desert, beautiful flute-edged round butter cookies and cappacino.

Today, we took the train from Moneglia to the Cinque Terre—five small medieval seaside villages strung along 12 km of the rocky coast, each tucked into a cove against the mountain. Like most of the old towns along the Ligurian coast, some date to the Roman era. In the 12 and 13 century they became "allied" to Genoa (this terminology in the offiical promotions is a clear instance of "history written by the winners"--the "alliances" did not come about without some fighting on the part of local nobles). The paths that connect the villages are centuries old and are now trekked by the tourists. There are no cars allowed in any of the villages but the train goes through, and there is also ferry service.

We got off the train at the first village, Monterosso (red mountain), the largest of the five, and took the trail to the next village, Vernazza (photo). It was a 2 km hike but took us 2.45 hours-- very very steep, up and down the mountains (first leg = 500 steps), amazing views. Sailboats, ferries, vineyards, orange groves, olive trees, rocky coastline, birds chirping everywhere (and hordes of people on the trail, but it’s a holiday weekend here, so … whatever). We bought a blood orange from an old man about half-way (highway robbery—1 euro for the orange, but it was bellissimo). Vernazza is very small, a piazza at the marina, and a perfect spot for lunch! Which was anchovy in lemon-oil (again) and mixed seafood salad (again), and trofie with pesto (again, see previous entry on trofie; in fact, see previous entries on the other stuff too.)
Train back to Moneglia. Ready to conquer the other three villages tomorrow!!

anchovy and trofie

Genoa is a gritty port city, with steep hills and winding alleyways; many buildings date to the 13 and 14 century. On Thursday morning I gave a talk at the university (photo above of the library of the university on Via Balbi, housed in former church built in 14th century). Afterwards we went to lunch at Gaia, a small restaurant down a little alley off one of the main squares. It was a traditional place, with wood tables and chairs, a low, wood-beamed ceiling, the real thing, not a “traditional-Italian décor.” My colleagues introduced me to “trofie,” a rather petit pasta, home made and cut, thin and short (two-inches long) noodles. It was drenched in a very creamy pesto sauce and tossed with haricots vert (also cut short) and little quarter-size pieces of potato. The potato serves to soak up the oil from the pesto and the beans give it a little crunch and color. I am told this is Genoese comfort food and I can understand why. RECIPES FOLLOW. Followed by a dish that was made up of delicious meatballs (veal?) wrapped in lettuce leaves and braised in tomato sauce.

After lunch I walked down the via Girabaldi, where the museums are located in the former palazzo of the elites, and then wandered through the alleyways and shops, bought souvenirs and gifts…

While I was giving my talk in town, my friend went to visit a textile artist whom she had met recently in the U.S., who lives near Pavia, about one hour by train from Genoa. By the way, the Pope just recently visited her village. There remains in the square an enormous scaffolding made in the shape of his hat. It makes one think that the mass he gave was treated as though it were a rock concert.


…Dinner at “i tre merli”—some readers will recognize the name and logo from the one in NYC, or multiple ones, I think there was one on Seventh Ave. South near Barney’s some years ago but now there are two in the village and they also own Barolo in Soho. Anyway, my first reaction was, “I didn’t come to Italy to eat at a New York restaurant!” but my colleagues said this was the original one, run by sons of a Genoese family (these guys are very entrepreneurial), and it was very good. The restaurant in fact was excellent and also not without NYC influence. Our dining custom has been to have three courses, one dish each course, shared between the two of us. So we had as appetizer a sea bass and salmon tartare, with a light pineapple-infusion sauce, served with endive leaves. Then, for the first course, fettucine with baby squid and tuna roe with fresh tomatoes, and as entree, grilled whitefish and anchovy. The whitefish was amazing and I am totally sold!! on fresh anchovy, just as I am on the octopus. The restaurant (one of two in town--as I said, they are very entrepreneurial) was in the porto antiqua (old harbor) on the waterfront, next to Il Bigo, a huge crane-like scupture-structure (by Renzo Piano, I believe). There were many sailboats in the marina (though none as nice as Dulcinea) and a huge galleon ship named the Neptune…

We took the train Friday morning to Moneglia, down the Lingurian coast (part of the Mediterranean) what they call the Italian Riviera. It is a sleepy little village on the water surrounded by hills with olive trees. We are about a 45 minutes south of Portofino and about 20 minutes by train from the Cinque Terre, where we will go hiking over the next few days. This is a holiday weekend (May 1 is Tuesday) so there are many locals on holiday, but Moneglia seems tranquil. We went to a deli in town and had a picnic lunch on a park bench near the beach: anchovy fillets in olive oil; thinly-sliced octopus in olive oil, grilled vegetables, mixed seafood salad, anchovies stuffed with a potato fritter. The olive oil here is very light and has a slight citrus flavor. We found a wine shop and bought proseco made locally (in an unlabled bottle) and Lemoncino made in Portofino (total for both, 10 euros). There is a pizze/focaccia shop in town, specializing in "Focaccia con Recco." Recco is a town on the coast, near Portofino, known for its focaccia fromaggio (topped with melted cheeses). There are also the "torta," which are thin-crusted pies filled with vegetables, cheese and rice or just rice and cheese (which is like a rice-pudding pie). Farinata is a thin-crusted, baked shell made from ground-chick peas (no gluten). Here they were serving it plain but I think it's usually with a topping. (You can get it in Berkeley on Shattuck at that food court across the street from Cheese Board.) People coming off the beach or walking through town crowd into the little store and order enormous quantities of pizza and focaccia...

Our hotel is on the edge of town on the side of hill, at the foot of a very old castle. The weather is warm and the air fragrant with flowers. I am writing this by the pool.

RECIPES

ANCHOVY
Marinated Fresh Anchovies: Alici Marinate
Recipe copyright 2000, Mario Batali. All rights reserved.
Show: Molto Mario
Episode: Christmas Eve At Grandma's

2 pounds fresh anchovies
2 cups white wine vinegar
2 cups extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons dried oregano
2 tablespoons red chile flakes
1 bunch Italian parsley, finely chopped to yield 1/4 cup
4 cloves garlic, sliced paper thin
2 tablespoons sea salt
Using scissors, trim the fins off of all the anchovies. Using a sharp paring knife, gut the fish, and rinse well. Cut off the heads and carefully remove the spine and pin bones by pulling from the top with the index finger and thumbnail. Separate the 2 fillets and rinse again. Lay 1 layer of the fillets in a deep oval quiche plate and sprinkle over with vinegar. Continue until all the fish fillets are in the plate and pour over the rest of the vinegar. Let sit to marinate for at least 4 hours in the refrigerator.
Drain each anchovy from the vinegar, rinse, and pat dry with a kitchen towel. Wash out the oval quiche plate and dry well. Lay the cured anchovies into the quiche plate, one layer at a time, with 2 or 3 tablespoons olive oil, a pinch of oregano, a sprinkle of chile flakes, a sprinkle of parsley, a couple of garlic slices, and a sprinkle of salt. Layer until all of the anchovies are finished and allow to marinate at least 2 hours, refrigerated.

To serve, bring anchovies to cellar temp, just about 58 degrees F, and place 8 or 9 on each plate drained of oil. The cured anchovies will last like this for 1 week in the refrigerator.

TROFIE
Trofie is Ligurian pasta made with flour and water, no eggs. It is rolled by hand into little squiggly shapes and served with basil pesto. If you've never made fresh pasta before, this is a good one to start with for two reasons: you don't need a pasta machine, and trofie is almost impossible to buy outside of Liguria, so your efforts will be rewarded with a dish you can't just order in a restaurant. Cutting the dough into little pieces and rolling each one between your palms is somewhat labor intensive, so plan to serve this dish the Ligurian way - in small portions as a first course. A good way to cope with the task of shaping pasta is to enlist the help of your family. Kids find it particularly fun, and you'll be done in no time.

4 first-course servings

Dough (can be made the day before):

You will need:
3 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
2 tsp kosher salt (or 1 tsp table salt)
1 cup cold water

Mix flour and salt in a large bowl. Make a well in the center and pour in the water.
Using a fork, start mixing the flour into the water keeping the wet mixture in the center of the well. When the mixture gets too thick for a fork, mix the dough with your hand until all the flour is incorporated and the dough looks cohesive.
Clean your hands and press your thumb into the dough. It should feel tacky, but your thumb should come out clean without any dough stuck to it. If the dough is too sticky, add a bit more flour, kneed for a minute and test again.
Once the dough is the right consistency, it needs some serious kneading. Place it onto a clean work surface and knead for 8 minutes by folding and turning 90 degrees after each fold. Always turn the dough in the same direction. Do not short cut this step! You should end up with dough that is as smooth as a baby's bottom.
Form the dough into a thick disk, sprinkle with flour, wrap in plastic and let it rest in the fridge for at least 1 hour or overnight.
Shaping trofie (1-2 hours before serving):
You will need:
Semolina flour for sprinkling finished pasta
All-purpose flour for sprinkling the work surface

1. Sprinkle a large cookie sheet with semolina flour.
2. Sprinkle clean work surface with all-purpose flour. Place the dough on floured work surface and keep it covered with plastic wrap except when using.
3. Cut a 2/3" strip from the dough with a knife or dough scraper.
4. Roll it on lightly floured surface with 2 hands into a 1/3" thick rope.
5. Cut it into 1/4" wide pillows.
6. Pick up one pillow with your right hand and place it at the heel of your left hand. Hold your left hand in place over the cookie sheet. Roll your right hand forward in a fast motion applying pressure. Your piece of pasta will turn into a little cylinder with tapered ends and drop onto the cookie sheet. Don't roll your hands back and forth or you'll untwist the pasta. Repeat with remaining pieces dropping them all over the cookie sheet so that they touch as little as possible.
7. Sprinkle trofie with extra semolina flour and gently roll them around to coat.
8. Move finished pasta to one side of cookie sheet. Repeat with the rest of the dough. When the cookie sheet gets too crowded, start a new one. Pasta can be shaped 1 hour before cooking and kept uncovered at room temperature.

Cooking trofie

You will need:
2 Tbsp butter
1/2 cup pesto
Finely grated parmesan for sprinkling on pasta

Bring a large pot of water to a boil (at least 4 quarts). Season heavily with salt (pasta will be in the pot for less than a minute, so your water has to be salty enough to season it).
Pour the pasta from cookie sheet to a colander and shake to remove semolina.
Prepare a small bowl to reserve some pasta water.
Make sure your colander is ready in the sink, the pesto, and butter, and grated cheese are waiting on the counter, and you have serving bowls handy before you cook the pasta. Even half a minute can make a difference between perfect and overcooked pasta, so watch it carefully.
When the water is at a rolling boil, pour the pasta into the pot, give it a stir and cover. After 30 seconds, start testing every 15 seconds until the pasta is desired tenderness. It should be supple with a little bite. This usually takes 30 seconds to 2 minutes depending on the size of your pasta and how long it sat on the cookie sheet.
Reserve 2 spoonfuls of pasta water in a small bowl, and drain the pasta.
Put pasta back in the pot and mix with 1/2 cup pesto, 1 Tbsp pasta water, and 2 Tbsp butter. Serve immediately sprinkled with grated parmesan.

Note: see this site for recipe with photos: http://www.helenrennie.com/recipes/vegetarian/trofie.html

Here is the rest of the recipe for the pesto, beans and potato, though made with a different (hard) pasta:

Trenette with Pesto, Beans, and Potatoes: Pesto Genovese
Recipe courtesy Mario Batali
Show: Molto Mario
Episode: Hard Pasta

Pesto:
3 tablespoons pine nuts
2 cups fresh basil leaves, preferably "picolo fino"
1 clove garlic, peeled
1 pinch sea salt
5 ounces Ligurian extra-virgin olive oil
For the pasta dish:
1 cup fresh pesto
6 new potatoes or small red potatoes, boiled and halved
1 cup young green beans or haricots verts, blanched and refreshed
1 pound package Trenette pasta

To make the pesto: In a large stone mortar, place the pine nuts, basil, garlic, and salt and grind with a pestle until it forms a paste. Drizzle in the olive oil, beating the mixture all the while with a wooden spoon. This can also be chopped in a food processor before adding the oil. The pesto can be stored in jars, topped with extra-virgin olive oil, for several weeks.
To make the pasta dish: Bring 6 quarts water to boil and add 2 tablespoons salt.
Cook the pasta according to package instructions until "al dente" and drain.
Add pasta to a cold pan along with the beans. Toss with pesto, red potatoes and let the hot pasta and beans warm the pesto and potatoes. Do not reheat. Add more extra-virgin olive oil, to taste.

sighicelli and carlina

On Tuesday afternoon we visited the GAM, Torino's museum of modern and contemporary art. There were two special exhibits, one of work by Elisa Sighicelli, a photographer/video-maker (seahorse video, LEFT) and the other, of Salvo, a painter who pioneered self-referential style in the 1970s (self-portraits of himself as Jesus, etc). I was looking for the Hsiao Chins but alas none.


On Weds. we took a walk through Piazza Carlo Emmanuel II, a block behind our hotel. Gramsci lived there as a student, 1919-1922 (See PHOTO of the entrance to his building). A colleague from Vercelli recommended that we go to "Piazza Carlina," but we could not find that on the map; when we asked her later she pointed to the place on the map labeled "P. Carlo Emmanuel II," explaining that this Duke of Savoy was a flamboyant homosexual and that the people called him (affectionately??) "Carlina." So that the locals only know this square by the name P. Carlina... We window-shopped, as it was a national holiday April 25, the day that ended World War II, and everything was closed. I confess that my itch to shop has not yet been scratched--i've bought nothing as yet (other than food)! We did stop by Prada and realized that there is one global price at this level of fashion, same price in Italy as in the US. I suppose one would save on the VAT but I was too discouraged, I was hoping for a home-base discount. We ate dinner at a restaurant in Piazza Carlo Alberto (King of Sardinia), where we had an appetizer of grilled octopus over (mashed) potatoes (amazing), steamed mussels in fresh, spicy tomato sauce and a grilled branzini fish. Nietzche lived the last years of life in this piazza. It was here that, after witnessing a coachman whipping a horse, he threw his arms around the neck of the horse, collapsed and became mad. (It is said, though, that the underlying cause of his madness was syphillis).

We took the train to Genoa in the late afternoon and had dinner with at the home of my host, up on the hill with a view of the Ligurian Sea and the coastline down to Portofino, though it was hazy and could not see so well. A home-cooked Genovese dinner, penne with zucchini (with chili pepper and saffron); torta verdura, a vegetable pie with a very thin crust, made with chopped chard (with some rice and cheese); eggplant and a dish of sweet red and yellow peppers. And a home-made liquor called Limoncina, very strong!

the nunnery

I taught my first class at the University of the Eastern Piedmont, in Vercelli yesterday. It's about 45 minutes by train from Turin. One passes through the rice-growing region of the Piedmont. Before rice production was mechanized in the 1950s the growers used female labor from northeast Italy, migrant farm laborers who left their families and children for the seasonal work.
Vercelli is a medieval town, my office in the Dept. of Literature and Philosophy is in an old nunnery, with outside balconies overlooking the church courtyard (see photo). My class--on legal and illegal immigration in US history--comprises MA students from the American studies program at University of Turin and undergraduates from U-Eastern Piedmont. I met the Americanist faculty here at lunch, all very interesting people.

My host had a cocktail party at his apartment in Turin last night, where I met migration scholars and other Americanists from Italy and Germany. One of the migration specialists told me she is now reviewing my book! More punt e mes, and cheese and Italian salami. We then went out for a late dinner, pizza with mussels and calamri, and an outrageous salad with fish and octopus, the latter the most tender and tasty I've ever eaten. I learned later from a colleague that the octopus is prepared by boiling it and then leaving it in the water for a couple of hours until it is cooled.

punt e mes

Arrived this afternoon in Turin (Torino), a 17-18 century city in the Piedmont (northwest Italy) , home of the royal Savoys, Antonio Gramsci, and the Fiat (the "T" in Fiat is for Torino). K., my traveling companion was waiting for me at the airport. Our hotel is in the center of the old city, with full amenities including spa and pool (though it doesn't open until noon--obviously a more relaxed pace here). My host, a professor of US history at an Italian university nearby, and his wife took us to the Piazza San Carlos (photo above) for drinks and then to dinner. We had an apertif called "punt e mes," which (in dialect) means a point and a half, referring to one point bitter and a half-point sweet. It is a dry, red vermouth, nothing like the stuff we put in martinis--really good. It was served on ice with a slice of lemon and a slice of blood orange... Then to dinner (desribed to us as "a major event," i.e. standard meal is four courses). We decided to be brave and go for it: For antipasti, we had very thinly sliced smoked swordfish on arugula, drizzled with olive oil, and jerusalem artichoke with parmesan. Then, for first course, an herb rissotto, and for main course, a grilled dorade and a grilled monkfish ("pescatrice," which they call the jumping frog fish). Followed by a tiramisu (they don't make it like this in the US--too fabulous for words) and a chocolate-amarretto flan (also heavenly). For wine we had a Dolcetto D'Alba, a "light" red. We are sated and excited. Early train tomorrow to the university for first class. Ciao!

road, not mushroom; WMD

Took the train into London this morning, where I will stay overnight with NYC friends who now live here Notting Hill. I spent the afternoon braving the horde on Portobello Road, the Saturday outdoor antique, food, and chochky market. It's a mob scene, with hordes of teenagers from the suburbs and tourists from everywhere (not unlike Greenwich Village). I picked up some 19th-century prints some for the new apartment and for gifts (they travel flat). The kids hang on the corners in front of the pubs, drinking beer and eating take-out food out of aluminum tins. But I am not a kid, so I had a tasty fennel and basil rissotto and a salad at a cafe called the Grocer on Elgin, rested my feet and read another chapter of the dissertation I should have finished reading already... and bought some fresh goat cheese and a loaf of bread to eat later.

Checked out the theater listings and chose a play showing at the National Theater, "Landscape with Weapon." Serious but humorously done, about an aeronautic engineer who designs the ultimate weapon and then balks when he realizes that he won't have any control over its use. I had a great seat in the third row. The theater is on the south bank of the Thames, near the Tate Modern and the London Eye (ferris wheel). For a review of the play, see LINK, left.

green, green

I've decided to keep a blog of my teaching trip to Europe as an efficient way to stay in touch with family and friends. I've brought my camera but not the little device that uploads photos so for now we will make do with web photos.

First stop: Canterbury Christchurch University, Kent, UK, for a symposium on race and diversity, sponsored by the university's dept of Crime and Policing Studies. Christchurch University is England's newest (just a few years old), a split-off from Univ. of Kent. The symposium is meant as part of their training program for Kent police department. The two topics are hate crimes and "people without voice." I am delighted to participate in a conference with non-academic practitioners.

First fiasco on Thursday morning upon landing at Heathrow after seven hour flight (arrival time 6 am local time, midnight CDT): where is my driver? I find a guy with a sign that says: "Professor Mae Tunbridge-Wells." I ask him if he's there to take me to Canterbury, he says no. I wonder about another person named Mae with a posh-sounding hyphenated surname. Page driver for Mae Ngai twice. No answer. I've no phone number for my contact. So I hired a car to take me to the place--which turns out to be the university's conference center on an estate fifty miles from Canterbury, on the outskirts of a village called... Tunbridge Wells. Oh well. Second fiasco: my ATM card and credit card don't work! The local Lloyd's bank kindly did a transaction for me; I finally found out that one must tell one's bank before leaving that one is traveling abroad, otherwise they asusme your card has been stolen. Travelers take note.

The conference is at the Salomons Centre, the former estate of Sir David Salomons, a banker (founder of Westminster bank, now Nat-West) and first Jewish Lord Mayor of London (1855). 30+ acres, beautiful grounds and buildings, now owned by the university. (for more on history of Salomon and the estate, see LINK, left) Conferences, seminars, weddings and Sunday "carvery" brunches, they do it all. From the terrace looking out I spotted an egret by the pond and rabbits on the lawns. Beyond, rolling green meadows, cows (can be heard mooing); but this also somewhere becomes a military firing range (sign on fence by road-keep out!)... In the area are acres of fields planted with yellow flowers that produce grapeseed oil. The landscape looks like an impressionist painting.

The symposium was organized by a law professor, who is from Argentina, LLM Harvard PhD Oxford. The assistant chief constable for Kent is a very smart, very professional man, whose portfolio includes the police diversity initiative. Other participants are heads of their various "action groups" (for women, for sexual and ethnic minorities--largest minority-group in Kent is gypsies--for older people, etc etc) and a police officer whose beat is the coastal border (i.e. the channel tunnel to France) -- he spends time in Calais and works with French immigration people. This latter guy is an Irishman from Ulster who used to be in the Ulster constabulary, patrolling streets of Derry during the worst days of conflict. They are all proud of their heritage as policing from consent and their autonomy from the political process (in theory, at least), and refuse to define themselves as law enforcement officers, but rathersee their mandate as ensuring the well being of the community. They are disinclined to cooperate with immigration enforcement, i.e. removals. A bit too rosy a picture? They are sincere, I am convinced, but I think there is a gap between their commitment and the reality.

I spoke on the origins of illegal immigraiton in the US. Other speakers: a criminal-law professor from Argentina who was recently appointed to the supreme court. A controversial figure there, the only openly gay member of the court and an "abolitionist," which is to say he thinks "crime" should be decriminalized. A criminology professor from Univ of London, on the legacies of colonial thinking. A criminologist from Rutgers on cultures of denial. I am the only historian (indeed, the only person who is not a criminologist).

Dinner at a village a few miles away called Goudhurst at the Star and Eagle, a pub and restaurant in a very old Tudor inn (and I mean old--14 century) that had been taken over in the 18th century by the Hawkhurst gang, vicious sheep and gin smugglers (it's very close to the English channel). Now owned by a chef from Spain. Dinner: fresh fois gras sauteed in a mild orange sauce, followed by brill (like a dover sole) stuffed with smoked salmon and baked in pastry shell, served with cream sauce. The conference is over and we drink scotch and malbec. As they say over here: "just lovely."