Enchanted Liguria
By Lorna J. Sass, Los Angeles Times Syndicate, 10/98
Along with food that is memorable for its simplicity, walking up hills
and riding bicycles have kept the people of this Italian region in
excellent health with many reputed to be 100 or older.
Imagine a place where most people maintain excellent health and
ride bicycles well into their 80s. Many live in colorfully painted
houses that rise straight uphill from the coast and the people climb
up and down steep stairways to visit neighbors, the church and the
local market, where an endless supply of fresh, emerald-green pesto --
for which the region is known -- is always within arm's reach.
Such a delightful place is Liguria, the region of Italy that arcs
along the Mediterranean just east of Nice. Since the 19th century,
when the Romantic poets Byron and Shelley sang the praises of the
Italian Riviera, Liguria has hardly gone unnoticed.
Yet a tourist, such as I was, visiting the region's coastal and
mountain villages off season (from October through early April),
experiences a remarkable sense of discovery. Ambling up and down the
stone steps that make up the village streets, I felt as if I were
stepping back in time. Wrinkled women dressed in black sat on stoops,
basking in the midday sun. A white-aproned baker set her fresh
vegetable tarts in a gleaming shop window. Fishermen mended nets in
the town square as they have done for eons.
For good reason, the region has been called ``Enchanted Liguria''
(Rizzoli; 1997), by authors David Downie and Alison Harris. In their
lavishly illustrated book, this husband and wife team have vividly
captured the culture, history and daily life of this delightful place
in pictures and words.
Any book on Liguria always emphasizes the fact that Genoese-born
Christopher Columbus is the region's most famous native son. Columbus
is a legendary reminder of the region's intimate connection with the
sea. But that portion of the Mediterranean called the Mare Ligure is
meager in riches, yielding mostly small fish like anchovies and
sardines.
When I visited the small fishing village of Riva Trigoso -- a town
reputed to have more 100 year olds than any other town in Liguria -- I
sampled a tomato-thick fresh anchovy stew that is typical of this
region's straightforward fare. This sampling was organized by the host
of my trip, Oldways, a Boston-based organization devoted to
documenting and preserving the food traditions of healthy populations
all over the world. The vitality of those retired fishermen who
prepared the stew for our group of 40 proved to me that Ligurians have
figured out the secret of living long and healthy lives.
Part of the reason for their longevity is the fact that they are
active, industrious people. Ascending from the coast, I saw miles of
carefully terraced gardens farmed inch by patient inch. Like the sea,
the rocky soil is not naturally generous in its bounty. In addition,
the steep mountains prohibit the grazing of large animals, so meat in
the Ligurian diet is restricted to the occasional consumption of
chicken and rabbit.
From this relatively frugal larder, however, inventive cooks have
created a cuisine so appealing that a major new cookbook has been
devoted to capturing its essence: Fred Plotkin's ``Recipes from
Paradise: Life and Food on the Italian Riviera'' (Little, Brown;
1997).
``Although it is often said that Ligurian soil is unyielding,''
writes Plotkin, who was a guide on the trip, ``the enterprising
populace has nurtured enough vegetation to rival the Garden of Eden...
. There are incomparable herbs and greens... . Vegetables include
garlic, artichokes, the sweetest peas, the most buttery lettuces, and
flavorful potatoes. After each rainfall, the hills are full of hunters
gathering some of the most extraordinary fungi porcini.''
From these basic ingredients, Ligurian cooks turn out food that is
memorable for its simplicity. The clean flavor of the primary
vegetable in rustic artichoke pies or stuffed zucchini springs forward
without obstruction.
Indeed, Ligurians take so much pride in the excellence of their
vegetables that they will seek out and pay more for what they consider
the very best, whether it be the purple-tinged artichokes from Albenga
or the small, intensely flavored leaves of basil from Pra. In every
market I visited, each fruit and vegetable was labeled with the place
of origin, and the produce was so fresh and attractive that I found
myself yearning for a kitchen to prepare them in.
Another reason for the straightforward and unmuddied taste of
Ligurian food is that the dishes are entirely devoid of spices.
Plotkin explains that since the sailors returning from long months at
sea did not want any reminders of far-off places, wives and mothers
confined their cooking to the produce of the region. Ligurians use a
wide variety of local herbs, including basil, rosemary, marjoram and
oregano, but they are always used with discretion and usually in
supporting roles. One of the most distinctive regional dishes using
fresh herbs is (ITAL) pansotti (uqTAL), a ravioli stuffed with a
mixture of herbs and wild greens that is dressed with a simple walnut
sauce.
It is also noteworthy that cooks of this region use almost no cream
or butter and very little cheese. Ligurians are justly proud of their
distinctive olive oil, which is pressed from Taggiasca olives, and
forms the basis of dozens of simple sauces. This oil is also drizzled
with abandon on the superb focaccia, available hot from every village
(ITAL) focacceria (uqTAL). My personal favorite was the organic olive
oil made by Franco Boeri in his Frantoio Roi. You may order it through
the Internet at www.dmw.it/roi.htm, or from Zingerman's in New York at
(888) 636-8162.
No account of Ligurian food would be complete without some
discussion of pesto, the rich basil-and-nut sauce for which the region
is justly known. Ligurians take their pesto very seriously, and no
kitchen is without a large stone mortar and wooden pestle for
preparing it by the traditional method.
When I watched pesto being made by Melly Solari of the restaurant
Ca Peo, I saw that the basil was not so much pounded as pressed firmly
against the sides of the mortar with a wrist motion of exquisite grace
-- something like a miniature whirling dervish. Solari expressed
extreme displeasure that a well-known American newspaper reporter
printed a blender version of the restaurant's recipe.
``Basil is a noble herb,'' she explained in Italian, ``and it
should never come in contact with steel.''
INFORMATION:
Oldways Preservation & Exchange Trust hosts a number of projects
each year, some of which are international. For example, in November
The Foods of Prehistory & Lessons for Healthy Eating Today symposium
will be held in Perigueux, France. And London will be the host city
for the 1999 International Conference on the Mediterranean Diet in
April.
For information and prices, contact Oldway, 25 First St.,
Cambridge, MA 02141; tel. (617) 621-3000, fax (617) 621-1230. Or on
the Web, www.oldwayspt.org.
(Lorna J. Sass is the author of ``The New Soy Cookbook,'' Chronicle
Books, 1998.)
© 1998, Lorna J. Sass. Distributed by Los Angeles Times
Syndicate.