More notes from Naples: Villa Rosa di Nonna Rosa

As you may have gathered from my last post, our trip to Naples was an absolute foodie delight.

It's a very...frenetic city, and I wasn't sure when we first arrived how much I would actually like it. The taxi drive from the airport, for example, was somewhat terrifying. Actually, every time we got in a taxi it was frankly terrifying. The narrow streets are teeming with people (and the odd rogue moped) and shop spill their wares outside onto the already narrow pavements meaning you can never actually walk in a straight line. Which is good for the old step count.

The longer we stayed though, the more we fell into the city's rhythm. And the fact that around every corner there was a new venue wherein one could enjoy an Aperol spritz helps as well - the edge gets taken off pretty quickly.

We also ventured outside of Naples itself - including a trip to Sorrento and a visit to a wonderful restaurant up in the hills outside the city. Villa Rosa di Nonna Rosa is a mission to reach but, sitting on the terrace overlooking the Mediterranean and eating the most glorious, rustic Italian food, one can almost forget the fact that so many taxi drivers refused to take us (their vehicles being too large for the narrow, winding mountain roads) that we almost didn't make it.

How's this for a lunchtime view:

It is a set menu - you get what you're given. And their is no wine list, just a choice of house red or house white - however, they do let you bring your own and do not charge corkage.

We started with something called "aria fritta" which was a sort of fried, upside down pizza. 

It was gorgeous, albeit rich - one would comfortably have served two people. Then they started bringing the antipasti out and we began to suspect that the kitchen was trying to kill us.

This is just a sample of the spread they provided! There was nothing really fancy or cheffy going on here, just amazing produce that tasted of sunshine and had been treated with the utmost respect. But, if I had to make a (very mild) criticism. there was a LOT of food and we still had pasta, a main course and a dessert to go (all of which were similarly delicious).

I just loved how unpretentious this was. The main course was, literally, pork and chips. And it was heaven! The meat was tender, the potatoes salty and the sauce was the most delicious, savoury gravy.

And all good meals should end with doughnuts.

I can't imagine that this is an experience we will ever have again but I am incredibly glad we got the opportunity to go while we were there and, if you find yourself in Sorrento, can locate a friendly taxi driver and are willing to screw your courage to the sticking point, then I would most certainly recommend.

Adventures in pizza eating

My last meal on Earth could well be a pizza.

I hope that my tastes have changed - developed, evolved - from my teenage years. But still, really, when it boils down to anything I generally want to eat pizza. I want a base that is just the right balance of crispy and yielding, I want a sharp hit of tomato sauce, I want a gorgeous pull of cheese and then, of course, a topping. Or two.

We recently spent a few days in Naples - the birthplace of pizza! And, I am pleased to say that it did not disappoint. We ate at two restaurants in and around the centre of Naples that were, respectively, the ninth and first ranked pizza places in Italy, and were incredible. Although, just from walking around, I get the sense we would have done perfectly well pitching up at plenty of other places.

Our first night there, we went to Pizzeria La Notizia - and this was, as far as I could see, a neighbourhood joint done very well indeed. We ordered four pizzas between three (dear reader, please note, that we are three greedy people and still couldn't manage this so would not necessarily recommend). The classic Margherita was easily the best of the bunch as far as I'm concerned - although I think D was a fan of some of the more meat based offerings.

A couple of nights later, we headed out to I Masanielli. This was pizza taken VERY seriously. And I have never had a base like it. It contrived to have a light, airy quality alongside a crisp, oil-rich crust. Absolute heaven. The toppings could, in some instances, be a touch try hard if you favour simplicity. Textures of onion, for example, trod a fine line between absolute genius and terrible pretention. But, again, the classics really delivered - a simple Marinara was about as umami as you could wish, the base redolent with anchovies and olives and all good things.

I think that what was interesting is that Neapolitan pizza is definitely very distinctive and of itself. D wasn't the biggest fan - finding it a little bit on the doughy side and preferring a thinner, crispier iteration. I thoroughly enjoyed it - but, also, appreciate D's point that if you're expecting a very thin crust and minimal toppings you might be surprised by the Neapolitan offering.

Recipe corner: maritozzi (Roman cream buns)

It's been a good few weeks since we got back from Rome and we still find ourselves talking frequently about the trip, which is probably a sign that a) it was a good holiday and b) we need to get ourselves back there as soon as ever we can. Which, unless someone wins the lottery, is unlikely to be this year. So, in the meantime, we console ourselves with glorious Italian food.

This weekend, I made maritozzi, which are light, sweet buns split and filled with whipped cream. One restaurant we went to also served a savoury version wherein the buns were split and filled with whipped anchovy butter. As rich as it sounds. For mine, I made two versions - one where the sweetened cream was rippled through with raspberry puree and another where it was combined with the sweet pistachio paste that I brought home from Rome. But, really, the world is absolutely your oyster here. 

The buns themselves are a lovely texture managing to be both light and robust, and while they are sweet they are not overly so; I split one and had it toasted with butter and jam and that was also delicious. I suppose they are tending towards the brioche, but slightly less rich.

Chef's note one: I baked a test batch for 20 minutes and they were beginning to dry out, 18 was perfect. But, it's always worth starting to test slightly early. For an enriched dough like this one, you want the internal temperature to be between about 90 and 93 degrees to ensure they're cooked.

Chef's note two: I never have whole milk in, we are skimmed all the way in this house. So, after a bit of research online, I discovered that I could combine 290ml of skimmed milk with 2 tsp of double cream which should achieve around the same fat content as whole milk.

Chef's note three: you could make these the night before and leave to prove in the fridge. Ensure that they come to room temperature before baking. Having said that, they seem to last extremely well in a sealed container.

Ingredients

300ml whole milk (see note above)

530g strong white bread flour

1 tbsp fast action dried yeast

1/2 tsp salt

1 medium egg yolk

70g runny honey

60ml olive oil (plus extra for greasing)

Makes 10 buns

Pour the milk into a small saucepan. Whisk together the honey and the olive oil. Place the dry ingredients into the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook and break in the egg yolk.

Set the saucepan of milk over a low heat and bring it up to a low heat (the best way to test this is with a clean finger. It should not feel too hot to the touch). When the milk is warm, whisk in the honey and oil mix. Turn the stand mixer on to a low speed, and, when the egg is incorporated, start to pour in the liquid.

Once everything is added, and the dough is coming together, whack the speed up a couple of notches and knead for 7 mins (note: if you're doing this by hand it may well take longer. Be aware that this is quite a soft, sticky dough and a mixer is preferable if at all possible).

Transfer the dough to a lightly oiled bowl, cover and leave to prove for 60 - 90 minutes, or overnight in the fridge.

When making the buns, divide the dough into 10 equal pieces, shape into balls and place on two lined baking trays. Prove for a further 30 minutes, switching the oven on to 180 around 10 minutes before you are ready to bake to ensure it is up to temperature. Bake these for around 18 - 20 minutes, turning the trays round halfway through if the temperature distribution in your oven is uneven.

Once cooled, these can be split and served with any sweetened, flavoured cream filling of your choice. 

Fresh from the oven

Scruffily filled with raspberry cream

When in Rome (eat as the Romans do)

Pretty much every main meal we ate in Rome, we tried to seek out restaurants doing Roman food - sometimes traditional and sometimes a more modern spin but always rooted in the rich culinary tradition of the city.

We were there in the springtime, so it was the season of the carciofi (artichoke); a troublesome vegetable that I've never really bothered with at home. But, partly due to the variety grown over there, and partly due to the time, trouble and copious amounts of oil employed in cooking them, these were a genuine delight, rendered almost creamy in flavour and texture. They seem to like to put them in a lot of things: sandwiches, pasta and even tossed through a plate of simply cut and shredded meat to make a surprisingly rich main course.

The classic pasta dishes of Rome, the mainstays of every menu, appear to be carbonara (cheese, guanciale, egg), cacio e pepe (cheese and pepper) and gricia (cheese and guanciale). The pasta that we ate was definitely firmer than we tend to have it in Britain - not crunchy but definitely exhibiting that classic, if elusive, description of "al dente". And the dishes were a bit saucier than I tend to cook them which was interesting to note. 

Offal also plays a big part in Roman cuisine. Oxtail popped up on most menus - including the most beautiful, rich, sticky bowl of oxtail risotto which is definitely one to recreate at home. On our final evening, we tried the local delicaies of Roman style tripe and pork tendons. I try not to be squeamish about food but, I must admit, I had struggled with the idea of trip when our good friend A had proposed it earlier in the trip, but when it turned up on a tasting menu it was only right to try it. And reader, although it probably won't make my top ten dishes of the year, it was very tasty indeed (although I think that is mainly down to the delicious sauce it was tossed through; that quiveringly pallid Yorkshire dish of tripe and onions still carries no appeal whatsoever). The tendons, to the right of the picture, were lightly pickled and, although the texture was slightly odd, were very interesting to eat.

La bella vita - a sojourn in Rome

We've just got back from a lovely few days in Rome. Despite forecasts to the contrary, we basked in glorious sunshine, walked our feet off and ate. Oh my word, how we ate. We ate so much that for two days after we got back we consumed little more than toast which we nibbled at like Victorian consumptives. Roman food is RICH.

We went with an Italian friend, A, who lived in the city for five years while studying. We asked him to show us "typical" Roman food and he did us absolutely proud, taking his mission extremely seriously. And so as well as an abundance of typically Roman restaurant dishes (highlights to follow in a future post) we also sampled the wares of a local market, had three cone gelato, enjoyed the deep fried delights of Roman "suppli" and learned that Romans take their biscuits extremely seriously.

This is a selection of the wares from La Biscottificio Artigiano Innocenti, a noted local bakery. To describe these as biscuits is selling them somewhat short. 

Here we see an example of a typical Roman street food, a suppli. This particular one consisted of rice in a rich tomato sauce with a generous amount of mozzarella at the centre. Gorgeous. Elsewhere, we also tried a cacio e pepe version; deep fried cheesy pasta is just as dirty and delicious as you might expect.

Testaccio market is a must visit for a foodie in the city. We spent a very pleasant hour or so drinking wine and eating cheese at one particular stall, and also bought a few bits to take home including a fabulous deli meat called Ciauscolo, which is best described as a sort of spreadable Mortadella. 

This gelato is from a shop called Torce. It has been awarded three cones, which is the ice cream equivalent of three Michelin Stars and it was absolutely divine. Our only sadness was that we didn't have time to try more than a few flavours (but definitely one to seek out and revisit in the future). On A's advice I tried the vanilla (the benchmark of the true gelato master), paired with a beautifully sharp and vivid scoop of raspberry. D went pistachio, strawberry and, in a stroke of maverick genius, cream of habanero chilli (some of the flavours were a little...eccentric). Magnifico.