Tanti, tanti piatti fa, as Amalia, one of the fellows here at Civitella Ranieri, mused the other day... And, since the Black South-Eater likes playing around with language, he added, Tanti, tanti molto grande piatti fa. And big they were in taste when we turned one of the many divine corners in Italy.
Thanks to an anonymous benefactor in these hard times, this black south-eater was able to join his fellows on a trip to Urbino, hosted and guided by the Civitella Ranieri foundation. Urbino, a smallish town off the major routes, was central to the flourishing of the arts in Italy from the fifteenth century onwards, cohering around the famous warlord, Frederico de Montefeltro, he of broken nose and gammy eye, with walk-on parts played by the nearby Malatestas (that's right, those not right in their heads). To show that he was a man both of book and sword, Montefeltro had designed and built for him a palace that eventually was developed into what was then considered the finest example of Renaissance architecture.
Tanti piatti fa, as Amalia, one of the fellows here at Civitella Ranieri, mused the other day*... Since the Black South-Eater likes playing around with language, he added, Tanti, tanti molto grande piatti fa. And big they were in taste when we turned one of the many divine corners in Italy, last Thursday, 20 August.
Thanks to an anonymous benefactor in these hard times, this black south-eater was able to join his fellows on a trip to Urbino, hosted and guided by the Civitella Ranieri foundation. Given the town's place in Renaissance history, forgive me the following homo universalis digressions then.
Urbino, a smallish town off the major routes, was central to the flourishing of the arts in Italy from the fifteenth century onwards, cohering around the famous warlord, Frederico de Montefeltro, he of broken nose and gammy eye, with walk-on parts played by the nearby Malatestas (that's right, those not right in their heads). Curiously, this conflict included showing off who cared most for culture as well.
Montefeltro had designed and built for him a palace that eventually was developed into what was and is considered the ideal example of Renaissance civil architecture and it had the best library outside of the Vatican. The town itself is considered the ideal Renaissance city. As a patron, Montefeltro also sponsored Raphael's early development.
The Palazzo Ducale now houses the Galleria Nazionale delle Marche where one can see Piero della Francesca's 'The flagellation of Christ', a work of almost contemporary surrealism, foreshadowing Dali, but important during the Renaissance for its consolidation of the use of geometrical perspective. Check it.
Also there is Della Francesca's 'Madonna of Senigallia' and Raphael's 'La Muta'.
There was a lot more to see but, being a universal man, the black south-eater is also interested in food; too much musing on perspective and the wars of state also makes one peckish. And so off we hungry fellows went. A short walk through the hot maze of Urbino brought us around a corner to L'Angolo Devino, chosen and reservations made by Dana Prescott, director at Civitella Ranieri. (Two pics in previous post.)
People, the Black South-Eater went high, very high. There was no low, no in-between, but all high as if on powerful drugs, or a bat in crazed flight turning a corner and blinded further by divine light.
Osteria L'Angolo Devino is concerned with the traditions of the region and, in the main, as with much food here, the dishes were simple in concept and execution. By that I mean that there were no bells and whistles. It is 'high' cuisine in that the tastes are exquisite and the textures fascinating, but it remains rooted by using local, 'everyday' ingredients. The decor was a mixture of the authentically old - sideboards and tables - and the plain yet lush elegance of well-woven cream table cloths and napkins. The two waiters that served our table of 18 heads were warm and friendly, patient and seemed to be enjoying answering questions, not flustered at all by a noisy table on a very hot day (the air-conditioning was struggling).
To the food.
First, the antipasti. A polenta 'pancake' with a dollop of tomato sauce. Now, the Black South-Eater is not too fond of the phutu, but this was something else. Creamy yet light, and the tomato sauce was fresh with a mildly tart flavour. By what arcane and dark art do Italians manipulate the humble tomato?
This was followed by small pieces of bread with a dollop of chunky tonnato (a 'mayonnaise' flavoured in the main with anchovy, tuna and capers). The Black South-Eater loves fish and thus loves this sauce, and I can eat bowls of it for lunch and supper. But I'd like to insist that I think Romana, Patrizia and Patrizia's tonnato is a notch more salty and thus more to the liking of this tongue.
The tonnato on bread was followed by wedges of spinach and cheese piadini. Again, fresh, and the bread, almost pizza but a bit rooti-like, with an unmistakable woodfire flavour.
Then some salami, coppa and mountain ham. Oh my. Tender, full of flavour, where the curing does not kill off the flavour of the meat, especially the mountain ham.
The first mains was a festive pasta, a dish cooked for celebrations. A cubed pasta made of flour, eggs, butter and cheese, it is cooked, held in netting, in a chicken stock. Served in a pale yellow broth of (probably) that chicken stock with hints of citrus peel and saffron, and shavings of truffle.
This dish was most incredible. At first, the texture of the small cubes of pasta (of about 1cm square sides; reportedly unique to L'Angolo Devino) was strange. A bit porous, almost bread-like, one may have been eating bread just soaked in soup this very minute. But unlike bread, the pasta maintains its structure and consistency, and after two mouthfuls, the porous, bread-like texture becomes clear, as if revealed in light. It is the perfect company to the rich yet delicate broth - not a thick broth, but one that presents its umami without shame, its osmazome without reticence. And the pasta takes this on board as if they were lifelong, natural companions. Everybody ooh-ed and aah-ed.
This is the thing: balance. The dish made a tremendous impact on the tongue, yet had a transitory feel. It is at once heavy and light. Too quickly gone, but the endorphins still whizzing through the brain. Fortunately, it was a large table and as the waiters started gathering bowls at one end, Moira leaned over to my oohs and aahs dying with a dying fall, beneath the music from a farther room. She couldn't finish hers and, miraculously maintaining exterior dignity, the Black South-Eater had two more scoops. God, this stuff is like crack cocaine.
Not that I have ever had crack. But, you know, I read. So, someone once described the crack euphoria as this incredible force, akin to being hit by a juggernaut, and if being hit by said juggernaut can be described as euphoric, but a force of great power too soon gone. Heavy and light.
Mains number 2 was called 'Crazy Roll'. A compressed log of pasta made with breadcrumbs, it is also cooked in a stock, then served in slices - here three to the plate - topped with tomato sauce and formaggio di fossa. Another amazing mouthful and by now everyone was groaning with the weight in their bellies, and indolent from the wine and heat.
A finish with a simple greenleaf salad, and Claudio, the owner-chef and a charming, ego-less man, popped in to see whether everything was alright. More than alright, we chorused. Bene, molto bene, and a few belissimos as well.
It was a great meal, and a huge meal, and we all stumbled up the hill, some in search of gelato (!), some just for an espresso and a cigarette, over which to contemplate the heavy and the light, the balance in perspective.
Notes
* Many plates ago. Many, many very big plates ago.
No comments:
Post a Comment