Camille visits La Molina chocolate, in Quarrata, near Pistoia. The saying, "Dulcis in Fundo", could not be more appropriate. This is Camille's last culinary destination in Italy. Thank you, Camille. It has been a privilege to read the journal your wrote for us. Your work was great and perfectly caught the spirit of our producers, our heros. Of course, Zac's beautiful pictures helped a lot, too. Grazie veramente. This is what Camille says about her visit to la Molina:
What’s a better fix for a sweet craving than chocolate? Nothing, in my opinion. But with check-out stands crowded with chocolate bars, how to choose? Well, it’s easy. As with everything else on Gustiamo’s website, quality ingredients and time-tested traditions make for a quality product, and the same goes for chocolate.
Chocolate maybe isn’t the first thing you think of when you think “Italy,” but La Molina is changing all that. Started in 2000 by the Lunardi brothers, who had been making pastry for years, they’re constantly thinking of new ways to reinvent the classics. What better example than their chocolate cactus, a new and fun take on the Italian favorite, chocolate Easter eggs. But maybe they are most unique in their business model: everything is made by hand using only the best ingredients. Unlike industrial chocolate companies, La Molina sources its chocolate from small plantations. The chocolate is produced according to a recipe unique to La Molina, and the amazing flavors and shapes are created after the chocolate arrives in Italy.
The day I visited, they were in the process of turning fresh oranges into candied orange peel, making the entire workroom smell like orange (Alessandro, who was wonderful and showed us around, offered us a few of the already-peeled oranges. Since they only use the peel in the chocolate, all of the employees take home oranges to their families. What a bonus!). The fact that the ingredients are fresh and are added by hand is obvious – the “gianduja” (hazelnut) chocolates taste like the hazelnuts had been freshly toasted, and the intensely creamy chocolate melts in your mouth.
La Molina chocolate is delicious, but it’s also beautiful – the packaging is modern and innovative, and is a feast for the eyes as well as the mouth. And they get what all of us chocolate lovers want – their chocolate bars are big enough to be satisfying, but they’re small enough that you could devour the entire thing yourself. You’re meant to get your hands dirty and enjoy the chocolate to the last bite, bringing out the kid in everyone. And that’s how La Molina thinks about chocolate – it’s a connection to pleasure, to bliss, and it should be enjoyed and celebrated as such.
All in all, from the beautiful packaging to the incredible flavors and textures, everything about La Molina is well crafted.
I just called Gina to congratulate her for the beautiful article in the NYTimes which features our saffron from Cooperativa Navelli (a town near L'Aquila, in Abruzzo), a group of 97 families that makes the only DOP Zafferano dell'Aquila. WOW, to be in the NYTimes! Huge!
As many of our producers, Gina (aka Giovanina Sarra, in the article) is very difficult to reach. The cooperative has one number that works as telephone and fax; no cell phone; no email. Perhaps smoke signals would work? After the earthquake, last year, they were also without internet connection for several months. But they have no email, anyhow. It took me two full days to find her on the phone. Gina is the daughter of the founder of the cooperative and she is the factotum, as she puts it. She is happy about the article and no, she didn't know it was out. She gave me the email address of her nephew Simone (also NYTimes famous) to whom I will send the link. Will they ever get it to read it?
Our colleague and friend, Stefano, lives in Bed Stuy, Brooklyn, and often complains about the tough neighborhood and how far it is from the office. 2 negatives evidently more than compensated by the positives of inexpensive rent and vicinity to Saraghina, which has become Stefano and Chiara's, his girlfriend, primary dining room. Stefano marvels all the times about the chefs and coowners Chicco and Edo's food, pizza and hospitality. It's been months that we keep saying we should all go. The other day, catching up with my old stack of New Yorkers, I made it to the November issue - 2009, that is - and what do I see? Tables for Two on Saraghina! Truly excited, because I felt like Edo and his staff were my friends, too. If you are a friend of my friend, you are my friend. Lyla Byock's great review in the New Yorker only confirmed Stefano's descriptions. Belated congratulations on the great article. All deserved. And ... I really want to go, now.
Who knew? Even a Facebook page could be worth money. There is a company, Vitrue, specialized in social media that calculates the value of Facebook pages and says that Starbucks, for example, is worth $20.7 million because it has 8 million fans (or likes). According to Vitrue, the Gustiamo Facebook page is worth $4,681. Long way to go!!! Would you like to be part of this huge fortune? Become a fan (ah, fans are out of fashion)! Click "Like" on Gustiamo Page and we'll share the fortune! And grazie!
Stefano and I went to see Nate Appleman, at his new restaurant Pulino's, last Friday. We were really looking forward to meeting the celebrated chef and welcoming him to the New York restaurant scene. Somehow, we felt like we knew each other already, like we were already friends, since he had mentioned Gustiamo in his book, A16 which is the name of the restaurant in San Francisco where he was the chef before he moved to NY. Wrong! And bad timing. Apparently, we arrived just after a NYTimes review appeared and he was not in a good mood. Some think Nate is such a young and talented chef he and his restaurant will succeed in time. Good luck!
Gustiamo (all of us) went to the Consulate of Argentina, the other evening, to taste some of that country's best extra virgin olive oils. God forbid you should think we are only partial to Italian olive oils!
This young man is Victorio Piuzzi and he makes Olio Casiraghi in Mendoza. Casiraghi is the name of Victorio's grand father who started the small farm (they make only 20,000 bottles). We talked to Victorio at length and it was like talking to one of our real passionate and proud Italian olive oil maker. He even speaks Italian! We liked his light blend made with arbechina, nevarillo (both originally from Spain) and frantoio olives and his fruity monocultivar made with Arauco olive. This Arauco olive is the only true Argentinean variety and it has a very interesting story: in the 18th century, Spain ordered the eradication of all olive trees in Argentina, fearing the competition. Somehow, from all the various cultivars, this Arauco was developed as a local plant. Another very interesting point is that they don't use much olive oil in Argentina: only 1/2 a liter per person per year. Hence, their need to export. Production in the North and the Center of Argentina, differs tremendously: while the North can yield 40,000 kilos of olives per hectar, in the Center of Argentina, you can only have 8,000 kilos. Much fewer olives, but much better quality. Victorio's farm is in Mendoza, which is smack in the center of Argentina and this is another reason why his olive oil is so good. Bravo Victorio, next time in NYC come to visit us in the Bronx; we'd love to have you taste our olive oils!
This lovely package contains the most spectacular DRY FIGS you have ever tasted. They have a dense white pulp that is extra sweet, more tender and fine seeded than the coarse Turkish, Greek or Calabrian figs one usually finds in the market. Stuffed with almonds, soaked in rum and fig mollasses with citrus peel and raisins, they are gift wrapped in fig leaves. The packaging is artistic, the scent and flavor of the figs irrestible.
NYTimes famous, these figs are made by Antonio Longo, the owner of the farm Santomiele, in the Cilento region, near Paestum.
Camille continues her culinary adventures with Gustiamo, goes to visit Mariangela of Acetaia La Cà dal Nôn and discovers the wonderful world of aceto balsamico tradizionale. She is so inspired by the product that is older than she is, that her prose is not only very informative but also poetic! Grazie Camille!
Balsamic vinegar is definitely one of the things that first pops into my head when I think of typical Italian food. My favorite after-work snack is fresh bread dipped in olive oil with a splash of balsamic vinegar (aceto balsamico in Italian). Or even better, bruschetta al pomodoro with tomatoes marinated in vinegar. But until coming to Italy, my kitchen contained only run-of-the-mill, industrially produced “balsamic vinegar” from Trader Joe’s. But after my recent visit to La Cà dal Nôn, I now know what I’ve been missing and I don’t think I can ever go back (in fact, now that my Italian adventure is drawing to a close, I don’t know how I’m going to survive in an American grocery store. I might break down crying in the middle of the cereal aisle)!
To visit La Cà dal Nôn and experience true “aceto balsamico tradizionale di Modena” (and there really is such a thing as “true” in this case – more on that in a minute) I had to travel to Vignola, a small town between Bologna and Modena, famous for its cherries and, of course, its aceto balsamico. After being picked up from the train station, Zac and I were brought to the Montanari family home for a wonderful lunch and tour of the family acetaia (side note: only producers of aceto balsamic tradizionale can be called an acetaia; industrial producers are known as “acetificio”). The family has been making vinegar since 1883, when the great-grandfather of Mariangela, who with her father now runs La Cà dal Nôn, decided to begin making traditional balsamic vinegar for his family. It wasn’t until about 15 years ago that they began selling their vinegar, but the name, La Cà dal Nôn, means “The House of the Grandfather” and is a tribute to the family’s long history of and passion for making aceto balsamico tradizionale.
The decision to produce balsamic vinegar as it has been done for centuries must be one of passion – the amount of time, energy, care, and patience that goes into each and every bottle is truly impressive. But it was immediately obvious how much Mariangela cares about her family’s product: she knew important dates in the history of vinegar, the weight of balsamic vinegar in relation to water, how many bottles they produce every year, and so on. And there’s so much to keep track of! First and foremost, the grapes have a large impact on the finished product. Mariangela uses trebbiano modenese grapes (which are white, something I would have never guessed) along with other local grape varieties from the family vineyard. The grapes are harvested as late as possible, normally in the end of September, so that the sugar content is high. The grapes are then pressed and the resulting juice (the “must”) is cooked for around thirty-six hours (depending on the sugar content of the grapes) in a metal pot over a direct flame to evaporate the water and caramelize the sugars.
After the cooking process ends, the must is poured into the first barrel in the series to begin the fermentation, acidification, and aging process. Immediately upon stepping into the aging rooms, an intensely sweet yet acidic smell of vinegar hits you. The small rooms are crowded with lines and lines of barrels, each starting with a fairly large barrel and ending with one just larger in circumference than a basketball. The liquid is first poured into the largest of barrels and a percentage is moved each cycle to the next smallest barrel, until reaching the smallest on the line, thereby finishing the process (in other words, the vinegar you buy is taken only from the smallest barrel). These “batteria” (all between 5 and 15 barrels in length) are where the magic takes place: Mariangela explained that the first few barrels, where the newest must is poured, is where the fermentation takes place. The barrels in the middle are mainly where the acidification, or vinegarization, occurs, and the last few barrels are mostly for aging. The vinegar thickens throughout the process, hence the decreasing size. But it’s not just about what’s in the barrel that counts – the barrels themselves have a large impact on the finished product.
The series can only contain wood native to the Modena region, such as chestnut, cherry, oak, and mulberry, and the order of the barrels alters the taste of the vinegar (the vinegar finished in a barrel made of cherry, for example, is sweeter). A lot of forethought go into making a “family” of barrels, and as soon as the family is conditioned they should always be used together. A lot goes into conditioning the barrels – it takes at least a year and a half of “washing” a new barrel with highly acidic vinegar before it is ready for use. For this reason, the older the barrels, the better the product, and La Cà dal Nôn is still using batteria from the early 1900’s.
The care that goes into each batch of vinegar is remarkable. Not only is the aging process extensive (the youngest vinegar must be aged at least twelve years and the extra vecchio - old - vinegar must be aged at least for twenty-five years – it was strange trying something even older than I am!), Mariangela and her father spend long hours tasting and altering each batch of vinegar, so that by the time it is removed and bottled it has been taste-tested and adjusted at least a dozen times. It takes an informed palate to know what needs changing, and Mariangela has been spending time amongst the batteria since she could walk.
Yes, aceto balsamico tradizionale is expensive, but I have no doubt in my mind that this is one of the most time-intensive, difficult food products out there. And it’s worth it – the taste is so unique I can’t even describe it. Maybe most notable is that this vinegar is so well balanced that it’s best appreciated by the spoon full – there’s none of that face-contorting sourness about it. Instead, it’s a burst of flavor that is entirely unique. I’m so, so glad that there are people like Mariangela who love their product so intensely that they can spend years making it perfect. It’s an unforgettable experience to taste La Cà dal Nôn’s vinegar, and I’m really looking forward to taking this piece of Italy at its finest home with me!
There is a very interesting discussion (click here for thread) on our friend Jane's blog, Let There Be Bite, about olive oils and what you should use for cooking. I would love to hear what you think. This is what I wrote:
grazie, Ridge, but i still disagree strongly. i thank you for the
opportunity to discuss this topic. virgin oil is a bad oil, the acidity
is so high, it is almost a rancid oil. i don’t agree that you don’t
taste the olive oil when you cook. i and all the people i have asked do
taste it. in fact, to cook i would use a little older and less
flavorful olive oil, but always an ev olive oil. why would you use an
almost rancid olive oil? i’m a strong believer of garbage in garbage
out. yes, possibly the health benefit of oil are lost after frying, but
the lightness of the fried food is uncomparable (the ev olive oil’s
smoke point is higher and the fried food absorbs less of it - not to
talk about how your house does NOT smell, when you fry with ev olive
oil). if it is an issue of cost, many merchants (including us,
gustiamo.com) sell ev olive oil with passed “best before” at big
discounts.
i strongly disagree with you when you say that there is nothing wrong
with refined olive oils. EVERYTHING is wrong with refined (ie treated
with chemicals) olive oils. it might not be dangerous to your health, i
agree. it’s very dangerous for the environment. somebody needs to
produce these chemicals. who wants them, other than the big industries
who make huge profits from refined olive oils?
Of the series: we love to see you in the warehouse, in the Bronx. We can do all the tasting of our products and talk as much as we want (and we talk a lot!) - nobody can stop us! It's our home. As Jon was saying good bye, Antonio says hello. Antonio Vozzolo often comes to the warehouse. He sits at the computer, places his order, prints the order form, picks and packs it. Our best customer! We don't need to do anything! Why all this familiarity? Antonio used to work at Gustiamo a few years ago and knows how to move around here! Antonio loves our food! As he says here, in another of our memorable interviews, he likes Sant'Eustachio coffee, Tratturello Olive Oil, the capers and the new Faella pasta from Gragnano. When Antonio worked at Gustiamo, he got interested in our importing operations and became a US Customs broker. He just opened his own company, Pangaea Logistics, an international shipping and relocation company. Good luck, Antonio, with your new adventure!
