Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Spring Foods



It’s no secret that we are besotted with the Cilento, and if it’s possible to love seasonally, we absolutely adore spring in this blessed part of Italy.  The weather is delightful, with warm, breezy days and cool nights (Ah, the luxury of sleeping blanketed in June!), the pace of life quickens, and the flowers for which the area has been famous since antiquity are, impossibly, even more luxuriant.  And it will come as no shock to our friends that good food is an essential part of our springtime enjoyment.

Italians tend to eat seasonally in any case.  What a crazy notion!  You enjoy local foods in abundance as long as they abound, and then move on to another perfectly ripe local food and dream of those delicious asparagus or cherries or favas that you anticipate next year.  Meanwhile, American supermarkets in winter are overflowing with produce from Chile and Argentina, and we eat the same foods so continually that they lose their exciting freshness.  I’m not preaching here.  I grow so nostalgic for ripe tomatoes in February that I’ll take my chances on those cardboard abominations from California, only to have my hopes dashed yet again.

So imagine what a treat it has been to experience early spring in the Cilento for the first time!  This was our first May in Italy in some 23 years of Italian travel and living.  And you may be sure we relished seasonal foods.  Here’s a sample.

Wild Asparagus
Italians savor the cultivated variety just as we do, if not more, but there’s nothing to compare with the intense taste of the asparagi selvatici.  I remember Fernando’s shock our first summer here when he discovered I had never tasted the wild variety. I asked if they were really that much better.  His only response was to roll his eyes upward, place his hands together in prayerful stance and waggle them up and down.  Even the voluble Italians know there are some ideas beyond words.

A bunch of wild asparagus


Asparagus have been a delicacy in Italy since antiquity.  The Roman emperor Augustus adored them, but only when cooked to the crunchy-tender stage.  In fact, a favorite expression of his was “quick as boiled asparagus”.  Wild asparagus are part of the Mediterranean scrub, macchia, and these days they grow most often in abandoned fields.  The wild variety is a small, spindly shrub with numerous skinny branches and tiny, spiky leaves; the unrelated fern  is aptly named.  But the plant propagates by sending up shoots from its extensive root system, and it is these tender shoots that are the prizes.  Unless they are plucked before the buds open, they become woody and unusable, so good timing is essential.

We almost missed out this time; the season was pretty much over in Agropoli, but there was one roadside stand where the purveyor had foraged a late crop from the Alburni plateau, some 2,000 feet higher in elevation.  I almost missed out even then, because the price of a bundle seemed so exorbitant to me, but Fernando was so intent on our tasting this delicacy that he insisted on chipping in half the price.  And then explained that our bunch represented hours and hours of foraging and the price was entirely fair.

But how to prepare them?  A quick trip upstairs to consult our expert on all things culinary, Filo.  But, halfway through her explanation, she paused and said, “On better thought, give me five minutes and I’ll be downstairs.”  Our own personal chef, and not just any chef, but dear Filo, who is an incredibly talented cook.


Filo works her magic.

Filo put a pot of well salted pasta water on to boil and heated a good half cup of the Astones’ exquisite olive oil in a sauté pan, then showed us how to break the little spears into one-inch lengths, starting from the tops and proceeding until they began to resist, discarding the remainder as too woody.  Into the pan of hot oil they went, and an intense asparagus aroma drifted up.  Then she added a handful of pomodorini, our dead-ripe local grape tomatoes, halved, and began to mash them with a fork to create a simple sauce.  Into the pasta pot went 12 ounces of good commercial spaghetti, and while it cooked and the sauce simmered, Filo grated a good cup of Parm.  Filo made us her testers for when the pasta was al dente—sadly, this talented culinarian is gluten-intolerant—in the only proper way to test, namely, by tasting it! Duh!  When it was one minute shy of al dente, into the sauce pan it went to ‘marry’, and then Filo took the pasta to the plates with a nice dusting of cheese.  Paired with a light red or a white wine.  Delicious!

Spaghetti con asparagi selvatici


Tagliatelle con funghi porcini
Another spring delicacy from the wilds is luscious, funky porcini mushrooms.  Actually, these guys show up in fall as well.  The key is that they love cool nights and warmish days.  But this year the drought has taken its toll, and we hunted in vain from our local purveyors.  Fernando suggested the Alburni range might be a possibility here as well, but when we visited the gorgeous little mountain town of Sicignano, we asked our friends Giulietta and Anna Maria about them and they explained sadly that even in the mountains it has been too dry this Spring for mushrooms.

Fresh percini mushrooms


But our friend Katiuscea came to the rescue, suggesting we use frozen specimens from the supermarcato.  Actually, these are a perfectly good substitute for the fresh, and even fine restaurants in the Cilento often use them when fresh are not available, though they dutifully reveal at the foot of the menu that such is the case.  They can be found on-line here in the states, though rather pricey.  I don’t think I would substitute the dried, reconstituted ones, however; this is a delicate dish and the dried variety in my opinion would be overpowering, dearly as I love them elsewhere.

Taglieatelle con funghi procini


This is another simple, perfect pasta dish, but it absolutely must be made with fresh tagliatelle.  Make it yourself or buy it fresh.  Buitoni is a perfectly good product widely available here.  Bring a large pot of well salted water to the boil.  Add a generous half cup of best olive oil to the sauté pan (if this seems excessive, remember that the oil really is the sauce), add the thawed mushrooms to the pan and allow the excess water to cook off, which will take several minutes.  Then add a good handful of grape tomatoes, halved, a generous amount of fresh thyme, and some salt.  Add black pepper if you like, but this dish really cries out for pepper flakes or, even better, a thin drizzle of olio santo, not the Californian stuff flogged by Ina Garten, but good olive oil infused with chili peppers.  As the sauce simmers and marries, drop the pasta but remember it will cook for only 4 minutes or so.  Add the drained pasta to the sauté pan and combine thoroughly and serve immediately with a dusting of grated cheese.  Here in the Cilento this will be a hard cacioricotta goats’ milk cheese, but grated pecorino or Parm would be fine.  Again, pair with a light red or a white wine.  

Fresh Favas
Beans and peas have been a staple of la cucina povera in Italy since time immemorial, but the first, fresh, spring varieties are considered a delicacy and eaten raw.  Fresh favas may be shelled and eaten with the outer skin of the bean still on if especially tender, but you may need to parboil the shelled beans for a minute and then pop them out of this skin.  In Tuscany many years ago these were eaten with fresh pecorino cheese, but here in the Cilento they are paired with fresh (not aged) caccioricotta and little dice of raw pancetta.  Just be sure to buy real pancetta which is hard-cured and, like cousin prosciutto crudo, doesn’t require cooking.

Fave con pancetta cruda

Lupins
Another famine food, in this case used as such for at least 3,000 years in the Mediterranean, are lupin beans.  Like all the vetches, the seeds contain bitter alkaloids and must be soaked in brine to leach out the bitterness.  In Agropoli’s Thursday street market, now conveniently moved to a special fairgrounds, they can be bought pre-soaked.  The outer skin here must be removed since it’s strictly indigestible, but then the beans are ready to be eaten as an antipasto or snack, salted and drizzled with good oil, and are often toasted and salted and eaten like peanuts.

Lupini, part skinned and part not


Artichokes

Yet another ancient food, these members of the thistle family are really the flower buds of this scrubby little plant.  Today they are cultivated, and just north of Agropoli in the Paestum Plain a special variety called Tondo di Paestum is so famous it has gained IGP (indicazione geografica protetta) status.  Actually, cultivation of these plants here is strictly modern, one of the many new varieties that were planted in the Plain after it was drained and irrigated in the Fascist land reclamation projects of the late 1920s.  Our local variety is eaten roasted,or boiled, but they are so tender when extremely fresh that they are also simply sliced thin and eaten raw under oil or vinegar.

Beautiful carciofi pestani

One that got away, in a field near Paestum


Medlars and Other Fruits

This region is known as the fruit basket of Europe, and rightly so, since fruit of all types is grown in such profusion.  Here on the tenuta we are especially spoiled since all the fruit is organic, what the Italians call biologico, and can be eaten right off the plant.  Right across the terrace there’s a huge, shallow pot where talented horticulturist Filo grows tiny little wild strawberries, so intensely ‘strawberry’ in taste that they practically explode in your mouth.  Then there are the three varieties of mulberries—white, black and purple—each with a distinctive taste, which are also three paces away from our front door.  What a luxury to stand under the trees and pluck fruits directly into your mouth and gorge on these luscious little fruits.  No need to worry about hogging them; the trees produce in such profusion that even the dormice and magpies can’t keep up.

Gelsi (mulberries) come in white, black and purple varieties.


Then there are the local orchard fruits both here on the farm and at local stands:  cherries and apricots and plums and peaches and tiny little pears.  Doubtless our favorite are the June figs that locals call fiori di fichi, ‘flower of the fig’. These are larger and juicier than the August figs and, draped with good prosciutto, make a perfect antipasto.

Apricots across the terrace

And Filo's peaches

Wild cherries

The Astones' plums

Our favorite, fiore di fichi


But a fruit we had never experienced before are loquats, Italian nespoli.  The name in the South is borrowed from that of the European medlar, Mespilus in Latin, thought at one time to be related but in fact a separate genus.  Medlars are a native wild fruit tree which has been cultivated in the North since Roman times, but our loquat is strictly an imported plant.  The Italian loquat is a small tree with beautiful, glossy, dark-green elliptical leaves and ovoid yellowish fruits about the size of a golf ball.  

Medlars on the tree


Our local variety fruits in incredible profusion.  The flesh has a soft, cream-colored, custard-like texture and a somewhat peachy taste with citrus notes.  In the center of the fruits is a large, glossy bronze seed, very pretty.

Fiano 

Finally, there is my favorite spring fruit, which comes conveniently in a bottle.  May is when the previous fall’s fresh white wines are released in the Cilento.  No one loves more than I a complex white, aged in oak for perhaps six months and then aged in bottle for two or three years.  But those wines are strictly for Fall and for heavier fare.  In luscious June, with all these luscious spring foods, a fresh, lively, acidic Fiano which has never seen oak is the only way to go. 


In bocca al lupo!

z

Tuesday, August 1, 2017

TAKING THE WATERS

        

        We recently headed out with Fernando for another avventura, this one to the pretty little town of Contursi Terme and its environs, for an experience that was unique for all three of us.  We were off to ‘take the waters’.

Contursi is in a gorgeous locale, in the upper valley of the Sele River at the foot of Monte Pruno and looking southward across the juncture of the Sele and Tanagro rivers to the most beautiful mountain range I have ever seen, the Alburni range.  Not as spectacular as the Rockies or Sierra Nevada, but absolutely stunning in its conformation. But it was not the spectacular scenery we were seeking, though that was a definite bonus.  You see, Monte Pruno is a dormant volcano, and the particular waters we were seeking to take derive from hot volcanic springs bubbling up along both banks of the Sele for about fifteen miles.
Contursi Terme with Monte Pruno in the background


The area has been noted for its thermal springs since Roman antiquity, if not before. The Roman naturalist Pliny the Elder mentions thermal springs in the area where the Italic peoples known as the Urseni lived in his time.  That history is reflected in the name.  The terme of the name derives from Latin thermae, the name the Romans gave to their heated bath complexes and obviously the word from which we derive various words referring to heat.  The first element of the town’s name, Contursi, derives directly or indirectly from the name of the tribe.  Contursi may be the Roman town Ursentum which Pliny mentions, although most scholars locate that town at Caggiano, about ten miles further east.  Italic tribes such as the Urseni frequently derive their names from that of their totemic animal, and the Urseni are thus ‘The Bear Tribe’.  

During Lombard times, Contursi was the seat of a county, the count in this case being Count Orso, and it’s possible the name is simply a deformation of Conte d’Orsi and thus, ‘Count Orsi’s town’.

Scenic and historical though the town may be, it was and continues to be the town’s thermal springs which are its real tourist draw.  There are no fewer than fifteen thermal upwellings along the Sele in the area, each with its own character and reputed health benefits.  Specific springs are noted for their use for baths, for massage therapy, for aerosol therapy, and/or for drinking.  For example, Bagni di Contursi’s waters are heavily sulfuric and typically bubble up at a toasty 107° F and are said to be especially good for arthritis.  The water of the Sorgente Contursi is sulfuric and effervescent with CO2, and is recommended for chronic catarrh and gastrointestinal disorders.  The water of the Aqua Radium emerges at 73° and is good for skin disorders, rheumatism, obesity, and female problems.  That of Volpacchio is drunk on the spot and also bottled and is good for ailments of the liver, pancreas, intestine, and lungs.  The waters of San Antonio a Monte have a similar character and are also bottled.

Hotel Capasso

Entrance to the baths

Our destination was in the pretty little frazione of Bagni di Contursi at the famous Hotel Spa Capasso, a luxury hotel right on the eastern bank of the Sele.  The hotel has 87 rooms available and each entitles guests to free access to the baths.  It also features a stunning restaurant.  But you don’t have to be a plutocrat to enjoy the baths.  A separate entrance from a large car park is available for walk-ins like us, and a paltry 15€, about 17 smackers at current rates, gives you access to the huge bath complex all day.  An extra 10€ provides a fluffy robe, bathing cap and a huge towel. Gallant Fernando was nice enough to provide one for Miss Sandy. 

The spa provides access to the baths, of course, but also facilities for massage, inhalation therapy, whirlpool baths, and what is described as an ‘arterial regimen’, plus several shower rooms, changing rooms, and private cabanas poolside for changing as well.

The baths are splayed out along the flank of the hill on four levels.  The uppermost is for changing and showering.  Next down is a huge swimming pool surrounded by lounge chairs.  The water here is a soothing 85°.  My favorite part was a huge terra cotta pot, what the Romans called a dolium, placed on its side and plumbed so that the sulfuric water cascades out into the pool and, if you are patient enough to wait for the spot, you can enjoy a luxurious thermal shower.  

The piscina on an upper level


The next level down is the real business part of the complex, for here is where a natural thermal spring spouts water directly from the earth.  This water is surrounded by a small pool and has sculpted a fantastic moonscape of mineral salts and volcanic mud.  The water here is 140°, very sulfuric and bicarbonate.  Obviously, too hot for bathing, but enchanting in a sort of weird, other-worldly way.  The smell of sulfur pervades the air, but is not at all unpleasant—not the putrid smell of hydrogen sulfide, just the clean, subtle, slightly acrid smell of that first whiff of a match being lit.  This level also has a nice shaded lawn with dozens of lounge chairs, and the young man who introduced us to the facilities conducted us to our own reserved chairs before we showered and changed.

The thermal spring with its hot, sulfuric water

Lounging during a mud bath


     Pool  2 is canted so that the flow of water cascades over the western retaining wall and down to the next level, where a large rectangular pool collects it.  Here the water is still quite hot, 117°, especially as it falls from the upper pool, but on the far side is tolerable for ten minutes or so.  More importantly, the characteristic grey volcanic mud collects on the bottom of the pool, and the standard procedure seems to be to smear this mud all over exposed skin and then climb back to your lounge chair to let it dry and purify and rejuvenate the skin.

Pool 2, with water at 117°

Volcanic mud from the pool


Pool 3 is also canted at the lower side, and yet another cascade conducts the waters to the lowest pool, another rectangular facility where the water  has cooled to a very pleasant 84°, great for a mineral shower and a good, long soak.  More mud collects here and is also used for mud baths.  Another shaded lawn provides numerous lounge chairs for those who prefer to recline here. To one side of the pool, an open sluice conducts water at 84° down the hillside and into the Sele. Several people were actually soaking rather awkwardly in the sluice.

Looking down on Pool 4

Pool 4

I’m happy to say all three of us enjoyed the whole regimen several times in succession.  Sadly, we had another appointment after lunch and so were not able to lollygag all day, but three hours of thermal bathing was a nice sample.  We showered, donned clothing, and headed over to the cafeteria for lunch.  The cafeteria provides access directly from the baths, and many bathers no doubt had a full afternoon of bathing on the agenda as well.
Lounging in the sluice 
Thermal waters enter the Sele River





So, was it worth the price of admission?  Absolutely!  One of the strangest and most enjoyable experiences of nature I’ve ever had, albeit in a very luxurious setting.  There is something strangely affecting about bathing in waters generated by Mother Earth's restless movements, replete with minerals from the center of the earth.  We will definitely return on our next sojourn in the Cilento.  Do I believe in the curative powers of the waters?  Well, I suppose I don’t disbelieve. I think we moderns scoff at the collected folk wisdom of the millennia at our own cost, and these waters have clearly had a salubrious reputation for at least 2,000 years.  At the very least I felt wonderfully cleansed and refreshed when we left.  So, if you happen to see me, just play along and tell me I look ten years younger.