Italian Grill - Mario Batali [0]
ITALIAN GRILL
with Judith Sutton
PHOTOGRAPHY BY
Beatriz da Costa
ART DIRECTION BY
Lisa Eaton and Douglas Riccardi
THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO
LEO, BENNO, AND SUSI,
THE HOTTEST COALS ON MY GRILL
INTRODUCTION
ITALIAN WINES FOR GRILING BY DAVID LYNCH
GRILING BASICS
INGREDIENTS AND TECHNIQUES FOR THE ITALIAN KITCHEN
ANTIPASTI
PIZZA AND FLATBREADS
FISH AND SHELLFISH
POULTERY
MEAT
VEGETABLES
SOURCES
INDEX
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
About the Author
ALSO BY MARIO BATALI
Copyright
About the Publisher
INTRODUCTION
The words “Italian” and “grilling” go together like the verse and refrain in a love song by Lennon and McCartney—they seem as if they were made for each other. Anyone who has spent any time at all in the real Italy knows that many of the most evocative and fragrant moments are sniffed at someone’s house, or in a vineyard, or at a trattoria where something delicious is cooking on a grill over hot coals. The kiss of the fire and iron grate can transform even the most quotidian vegetables or meats or fish into that hauntingly elusive perfect bite where the flavor of the natural product is enhanced, not masked, and the garden or the sea or the butcher shop and the flame unite to create an aria of flavor that renders worthy any effort it takes to get to the very point of enjoying it.
Yet America is a wild world of grill experts. We practically invented the backyard cookout, and we certainly invented the complex national fabric of real barbecue in its infinite permutations across our back roads and small towns from the Carolinas to California, from Texas to Toronto. Everything from weenie roasts to clambakes forms the vernacular of the American grill and the regional variations that make it our specialty. We all know how to grill—we were born with it; it is ours.
Still, Italian grilling is not so different from ours in its intention. The Italian grill is all about nuance and minimal interference with the flavor of the primary ingredient. There is no thick sweet barbecue sauce, no sweet-and-sour glaze, nothing kicked up a notch or two, and minimal basting (if any) in the Italian kitchen. Marinades are important, but they are lighter and certainly have no soy or teriyaki, or Tabasco and buttermilk baths. There is rarely anything more to them than good olive oil, citrus, wine, herbs, garlic, and hot chili flakes.
The recipes I offer in the following pages are not exactly 100 percent Italian. I celebrate the idea of the American mastery of the backyard grill, and I do love a kick-ass barbecue sauce. I will use a slightly sweet glaze on porchetta, that Italian icon, and there is a little zip in the dry rub for my rib eye. But the true Italian ideology is neither obfuscated nor watered down. What you will find here is my take on the Italian grill, just as I have always passed the world of Italian cooking through my rose-colored glasses, through my own culinary prism.
ITALIAN WINES FOR GRILLING
BY DAVID LYNCH
Choosing wines for grilled foods offers the wine guy a rare opportunity to be macho. Most of the time we are sniffing for subtleties, cooing over complexity, babbling about balance. The barbecue is a time to be bold—to fight fire with fire, or, as the Italians would put it, fuoco al fuoco.
Even when he isn’t grilling, of course, Mario brings the heat. When I was the sommelier at Babbo, I once had the temerity to request less chili flake in a pasta dish to make it more wine-friendly (hot spices amplify the heat of alcohol and tannin). I don’t remember his response exactly, but I think he threw a pinch more peperoncini into the pan, planted a defiant fist on his hip, and let loose a menacing cackle, like a pirate.
The lesson? Be bold, or stay out of the way. This is how I’ve come to approach most wine-and-food pairings, but it is an especially good mantra when firing up the grill. Whether it’s a blast of lemon juice on a swordfish steak or some serious fat marbling in a rib eye—not to mention the smoky, sharp taste of char, which