In Tuscany, it’s easy to be a lazy cook and still eat well.
Usually when I arrive here, in the Valdarno area south of Florence, I start cooking furiously. But the weather has been hot and this time I’m opting for more reading, more naps, more outings. So my emphasis has shifted to shopping for dinner instead of laboring over it.
What we’re eating these days is likely to be a simple antipasto platter, pasta with a quick sauce or an all-in-one like beans with chard and tomatoes (I’ll tell later how to make that one).
The region’s fabulous semi-aged pecorino cheeses need only be sliced. Buffalo mozzarella might be from Campania, as expected, but now I’m enjoying luscious mozzarella from the coastal Maremma area, which also raises water buffalo.
Soft, fennel-flavored finocchiona is Tuscany’s pride, and the region’s peppery prosciutto vies with better-known cured hams from the north. Rigotino looks like bacon, but it’s cured and can be eaten as is or used in cooking. Delicately seasoned lardo di Colonnata is delectable on crostini.
Marinated olives, artichoke hearts and cipolline onions, grilled eggplant and zucchini—all are on display at the supermarket gastronomia, a deli counter but so much more. I’m a stickler for making my own pesto. Well, except I’m not doing that here. Freshly made pesto scooped out of a gastronomia tub tastes darned close to what I make myself.
For other foods, supermarkets and neighborhood shops make life easier by doing some prep. Spinach and chard are cooked and squeezed into balls that need only be reheated gently and seasoned. Long-simmered beans are available and so is a small container of odori (onion, carrots, celery, parsley) for making broth or soffritto for a sauce base.
At the fruttivendolo in nearby Bucine, the owner pointed me to flatbreads for quick pizzas. with pancetta precut in small cubes, leftover roasted veggies and grated cheese. Couldn’t have tasted better.
Fresh tomatoes are still in season and they are a component of pappa al pomodoro, thickened with stale Tuscan bread, on offer at the same vendor. It looked gelatinous and unappealing, but she coaxed me to buy some: “Add a little olive oil and water to the pan, then stir in the pappa and heat it up.” She was right—we loved it.
Nectarines and figs were delicious when we arrived in early September but now my interest has shifted to fragrant pears, grapes and yellow canary and striped French-style melons. The pomegranates I saw ripening on trees a few weeks ago are now in markets.
From a garden tree, we also tasted giugiolle (jujubes), small brown fruit that taste like apples. According to Italian web sources, they can be used in risotto and sausage dishes as well as sweets. So far all I’ve done is nibble them.
If you’re still reading, do you remember those white beans with chard and tomatoes? I could have put prepped ingredients together in cucina rapida fashion. As it happens, though, our hosts had given me a pound of dried white cannellini. And, in their garden, we’ve been cutting a full-flavored variety of bietola (chard) and picking the last of their heirloom tomatoes.
Despite my lazy, cheating ways, I made this bean dish from scratch. It wasn’t hard and I hope you’ll do it, too.
This barely makes the cut for a dish that deserves a recipe. It's simple but won't be special unless the details are right. The only indispensable ingredient is dried beans. As is often the way in Italy, they could be served plain, with diners invited to season with olive oil, salt and pepper as they wish. The photo shows beans mixed with chard, diced tomatoes and an optional sprinkle of chopped onion. But you could just as well mix in slices of cooked sausage and chopped parsley instead.
- 1 pound good-quality cannellini or other white beans
- 2 bay leaves or a sprig of fresh sage
- 1 onion quartered through the root end
- 1 small bunch chard tough ends removed
- Sea salt or kosher salt
- Freshly ground black pepper
- 2 large tomatoes diced small
- Extra virgin olive oil
- Chopped sweet onion optional
-
Place beans in a large saucepan and cover with cold water. Soak for 6 hours or as directed on package. Drain and wash well under cold water.
-
Return beans to saucepan and cover with cold water to a depth of a couple of inches above beans. Add bay leaves and onion, and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer gently, partly covered, about 1 hour or until tender.
-
Meanwhile, cut chard crosswise (including stems) in thin strips. Bring a medium saucepan, filled two thirds with water and a small handful of salt, to a boil. Add chard, cooking just until tender, about 5 minutes. Drain.
-
Remove bay leaves and onion from beans. Season to taste with salt and pepper.
-
To serve: Spoon beans into shallow bowls. Top with tomatoes and chard. Drizzle generously with olive oil. Pass additional olive oil, salt and pepper, and chopped onion (if using) at the table.
Buckwheat has long been grown here, turning up in whole-grain breads and steaming bowls of whole-grain polenta taragna. So why not pasta? Italy takes pride of ownership and I was interested but not surprised to find a site by a group called 
Leaving black-eyed peas out didn’t feel right, though. And why should I? Italians were introduced a few centuries back to fagioli dall’ occhio, along with other New World ingredients, and they’re widely available.
A few years ago I spent a day visiting Sagrantino wine producers with Alessandra Mallotti of 
What’s special about an Umbrian sangiovese? “This is a southernmost terrain for sangiovese,” says Federico. “It’s a ‘generous’ grape that leaves a lot to the skills of the winemaker. Our goal is freshness, a balanced style and drinkability.”
Rosy slices of grilled steak on a bed of dressed arugula, with Parmigiano Reggiano shavings and a few ripe tomato wedges. in 2016 that dish sounds pleasing but hardly surprising. In the summer of 1985, though, during a sultry July in Tuscany, it seemed fresh and new. Suddenly this steak and arugula salad was everywhere.
Returning from an early fall visit to friends in North Carolina, I tucked green Cherokee tomatoes into every corner of my suitcase. When they ripened, I set aside two from this precious bounty, bought a prime steak (go to 
Pickling isn’t just for cucumbers anymore. It’s a huge trend, whether taking the form of traditional mixes like Italian giardiniera or the wildly creative combinations of someone like Ilene Sofranko, owner of 
on the Italian art of pickling. I earmarked a recipe for wine-spiked julienne carrots to remember when I run across heirloom carrots and instead made her pickled beets and spring onions. Apple cider, though not a traditional Italian ingredient, gives fruity verve to this pickled combo, with spicy notes added by juniper berries, peppercorns, cloves and bay leaves.
Homemade ricotta had been on my “to do” list for awhile. Not a big deal: three ingredients and maybe 10 minutes of active attention. So I can’t explain why I didn’t get around to it. But one fine afternoon…ricotta making rose to the top of the list.
So my personal answer to “Worth the trouble to make ricotta at home?” is no–although I do want to try goat milk one more time–because I have a good source of freshly made ricotta. If your only choice is a supermarket brand, bland tasting and laced with stabilizers, give homemade ricotta a try. I suggest you do it in small batches (say, two cups of milk) until you get the results you’re going for. Then ramp up to as much as 1 gallon of milk at a time.
Reading an
Corner of Vermont is a store that sells maple syrup, maple sugar and maple candies. Also, the state’s maple-flavored creemees, which look like soft-serve ice cream but have more butterfat and therefore taste better.
Just then a stream of middle-schoolers charged into the store, demanding creemees and other after-school treats. I stopped asking questions and left.