Food in Provence (and elsewhere)

It’s the end of week six, so what does the school do? Sets us two mid-course exams to see how much progress we’ve made. To sweeten the deal there’s a morning session dedicated to pizzas and things (southern) Italian. And it is was good. I mentioned yesterday that Francesco was from Taranto—on the inside at the top of the heel of the Italian boot. It’s not Naples but a Napolitan student (who happens to be my partner next week) vouches for his authenticity. And not just when the inevitable question about pineapple comes up. It’s a “no”, folks. Get over it.

Before we get to pizzas, though, there was some dough that had been left near our section yesterday and was massively over-proved. Francesco turned it into some 40 impressive burger buns. So he certainly knows how to manage dough.

And it is with dough we start. Actually not: we start with a discussion of flours and the need for high-strength (i.e. high protein) flours to make pizza. Then, the need for time—time for yeast and enzymes to do their work on the raw flour to turn it into a perfect pizza base. Apparently Italians reserve judgement on the quality of their pizza until they’ve seen how it sits in their stomach and digests. Pizzas should not make you feel bloated and craving something to drink—even if that is what bars and (some) restaurants might like.

So far, so good in terms of my pizza making—even if I should perhaps revert to making the dough by hand, he made it seem so easy (and if you do, put the salt around the edge of the flour “volcano”: that ensures it is mixed in last so interfering minimally with the action of the yeast). It’s when Francesco turns to shaping that I learn (or hope I have learnt) some techniques. One is easy: just use more flour—or, rather, a mix of flour and semola rimacinata (the flour for water-based pasta). And he does use a lot on the basis that if you have a quality dough it won’t be sticky. And to get rid of excess flour, no need for a brush, just hit the shaped pizza base with the flat of your hand!

The rest of the pizza course is mostly a discussion of toppings—keep it simple, essentially—with opportunities for people to try their hand at shaping.

After the coffee break we turn to one of Francesco’s favourites, panzerotti: deep-fried half-moons of stuffed dough—tomato, mozarella and mortadella being a traditional filling. The name comes from “panzer”, an informal Italian term for the belly, as a panzerotto swells up like a well rounded paunch in the deep fryer. Also deep fried are sgabei—deep fried anchovy bread sticks. I didn’t manage to try a piece of one of these, but they certainly look worth trying at home. Finally, Francesco ventures north to demonstrate the pan cooked piadini romagnola, which look similar to a large taco.

Lunch, of course, consists of pizza and panzerotti along with the de rigeur Ballymaloe salad selection.

And after lunch it’s the exams. These, like the roll call in assembly, are ordered alphabetically by name rather than surname so I’m towards the end. Probably better than having to demonstrate my techniques immediately after Francesco’s pizza masterclass but, of course, delays accumulate…

Anyway, I take the herb and salad recognition test first and I think I got them all right (and I remembered the two recipes for each herb). There’s a bit I didn’t expect in that we also have to assemble a magimix food processor and a kenwood mixer & liquidiser (as I have both of these at home I’m sure I managed OK) and finally lay a place setting to suit a menu we are given.

Then the technique test. I think I luck out as my two extra tasks are to make a 3-strand plait from a ball of dough and to make mayonnaise (by hand, folks). Easier tasks than filleting fish or, my shortcrust nemesis. Garry, my examiner for this part, reckons my plait could have been neater and my sweated onions a little softer. (Why does Ballymaloe want everything so soft? You sweat onions as the base of something, not to eat; they’ll soften in the further cooking anyway.) But my paper piping bag passes muster (no light peeping through at the sharp end) and Garry is very pleased with my mayonnaise.

All in all, then, I’m pleased and happy with my efforts as I set off for a long weekend in Waterford.

Finally, as J. says all blog entries have to have a picture, here’s one of the kitchen window in our flat, now rather artistically crazed

One of the many local rooks must have flown into it this morning. And I mean many! The dawn chorus here is far from melodious. I think “raucous” is even a kind term. And I’m not the only person to have adjusted where we park our cars. Enough said!