Travel journal entry October 8, 2011:
It’s nice to know that every day I drive down a road that has over 2,000 years of history on it’s surface. Via Roma connects Barbarino Val D’Elsa to the larger town of Tavernelle Val Di Pesa.
Yesterday we ate the second best meal we’ve eaten during this six-week journey. There is a little joint on the Via Roma that winds through the town square of Tavarnelle. It’s a coffee shop in the morning, a café in the afternoon, and a pool hall at night. Perfect. The Viola Club (named for the lavender color of the Florence “football” team) is the local hangout for a few dozen 50-80 year old men who might not be practicing Catholics, but are surely practicing card players.
They are there in the morning. They are there at noon, and they are there in the evening. They are a jolly bunch who drink coffee, joke, tease, argue, and play cards.
The first time I went in there, I watched from a corner table as they gave one of the men in their ranks a continual hard time. He endured a few hours of ribbing about his hair treatment. I got the feeling that he had used some type of over-the-counter hair dye recently (very obvious seeing that he was in his late 70s, and his hair was a solid blanket of jet black), and had probably stayed away from his friends at the Viola Club for a few days. I happened to be there on the day of his return and the ribbing was relentless.
His friends kept calling him “Berlusconi” because of the hair dye— a reference to the current Italian Prime Minister. I wanted to film the scene, to try and remember, and they— in a very jovial manner— brought me over and said I should film the Prime minister.
The Viola Club isn’t much to look at, but the food is very good and cheap. Paolo is the sole server. His mother, Giuliana, is the cook, and his father works the bar and the cash register— a true family operated business. The food is excellent and I have gotten several ideas for “An Italian Palate” there.
Ingredients
¼ cup Bacon fat
3 cup Onion, diced
3 cup Carrot, diced
3 cup Celery, diced
½ cup White wine
½ cup Ham, diced
2 tsp Poultry Seasoning (see recipe)
2 tsp House Herb Blend (see recipe)
2 tsp House Seasoning Blend (see recipe)
1 Tbl Worcestershire sauce
2 Tbl Kosher salt
2 tsp Hot sauce
1 tsp White pepper
1 each – 15 oz. can white navy beans, drained, rinsed and pureed with 4 cups pork stock
5 each – 15 oz. can white navy beans, drained, rinsed, kept whole
2 cup Pork stock (see recipe)
¼ cup Pesto
Reserved hock meat from Pork Stock recipe
Instructions
In a stockpot, sauté onion, carrot and celery in bacon fat for 5-7 minutes over medium heat, stirring frequently. Add wine and cook 3-4 more minutes.
Add ham and seasonings and cook 7-8 minutes.
Add the pureed beans, whole beans and the 2 cups of pork stock and bring to a boil. Immediately reduce heat and add the chopped hock meat and pesto. Stir well and simmer for 30-45 minutes.
There's nothing like a well-roasted turkey to anchor a holiday table, and no one made it quite like my grandmother. She didn't wait until Thanksgiving to serve it. She'd roast a turkey once a month throughout the year, never mind the occasion. It was a staple at her table.
My mother, on the other hand, always made a formal Christmas Eve dinner, complete with turkey, dressing, and gravy. As kids, the excitement of Christmas Eve was almost too much to bear. Those big dinners felt like the beginning of Christmas itself. It’s a memory that comes to mind every time I cook a turkey or make gravy. And a good gravy can make or break the meal. Making sure the roux browns just right and finishing the gravy with a touch of lemon juice or fresh herbs are tricks worth remembering. A little extra attention to the gravy goes a long way.
I can lay waste to a block of cream cheese with pepper jelly and crackers in a matter of minutes. It’s a weakness. No matter how hard I try to exercise self-control, I always find myself standing over the plate at a cocktail party, making it disappear without even thinking. This spread hits the same notes, but with a smoky, savory punch that’s hard to beat. It’s become a go-to for Christmas parties, and if you’re smart, you’ll double the recipe because it’ll be gone before you know it. It’s best when made a day in advance—giving all the flavors time to mingle.
My brother Drew and I were always wound up on Christmas Eve. He was four years older, but you’d never know it by how excited we both were. He’d be bouncing off the walls, too keyed up to sleep, while I’d follow his lead like I always did. When we finally did drift off, it wouldn’t be long before he’d shake me awake before dawn, eyes shining like he hadn’t slept a wink. Those early mornings felt like magic. Now, Christmas means he’s usually out duck hunting in the Delta, his favorite place on earth. He loves the hunt and the calm that comes with being out in the field before the sun rises. I thought of him when I put together this recipe. It’s a little bit of Drew—those wild December mornings in the Delta and the quiet way he’s always looked out for me.
