Any New Recipes?

My sister-in-law’s exact words a week ago were, “Any chance you can get some recipes of the more memorable meals?” She is aware that eating well has been one of the goals of this trip, along with walking, plus limited tourism.

Most of our more memorable meals in Rome, however, have not been things I would ever imagine trying to recreate at home, with or without recipes. In this category I put the tasting menus at two upper-end restaurants we indulged in in Trastevere, where the flavor bombs occur with elaborate displays, tiny artful creations that clearly take sooo much work to create.

I usually don’t remember to take a picture of our food, and if I do think of it, it often feels inappropriate to do so in the particular place. But sometimes I grab a quick shot or two. Here’s a picture of what remained of a quite fascinating dessert that I have no interest in recreating myself. It’s the very last couple of bites of Popcorn Gelato—that’s right, gelato made to taste like buttery popcorn—which is on the right, and what’s on the left is passionfruit sorbet made in a mold to resemble an ear of corn. You see the last remnants of the caramel sauce that was part of it, but the garnish of crumbled caramel popcorn has been consumed. It was very tasty but not anything I aspire to make at home, even if I did possess a corn-shaped ice cream mold.

Here on the other hand is something we’ve had all three times we went to Unìk, a really good nearby restaurant off the Via del Corso in Via del Croce, and I recommend it if you are ever in Rome and hungry. Pasta carbonara is one of the classic Roman dishes, made with eggs, parmigiano-reggiano cheese, guanciale (pork-cheek bacon) and black pepper, and is found in practically every local restaurant, using spaghetti or sometimes rigatoni, but at Unìk, their version is called Esplosione di Carbonara, putting all the flavors into beautifully shaped ravioli that explode in your mouth. I don’t think I could make it very well myself, although I can do a pretty decent job on another Roman specialty, Cacio e Pepe, Cheese and Pepper, where those are pretty much the only two ingredients along with the pasta (which tradition says must be tonnarelli, a thicker spaghetti-shaped pasta).

But one thing I had in a restaurant was so surprising—unusual, and tasty, and probably not that hard to make—that I did check out recipes for it on the internet, and that thing is Pistachio Lasagna. I had never heard of it before it was offered on a (somewhat short) menu in a small Sicilian restaurant, and I tried it and it was quite delicious. Of the recipes I found online, this one seems the most reasonable so far, but in the absence of my own kitchen I haven’t tried to make it yet. https://food52.com/recipes/76170-fennel-pistachio-pesto-lasagna

I think of it as similar to Risotto alle Fragole—with strawberries, which we encountered in Florence several years ago, and which sounds as though it would be sweet, a dessert risotto, but it’s not, it’s a savory dish made with meat stock and onions, not a dessert at all. Pasta with pistachios plus risotto with strawberries would be too much together for a single meal, but they occupy adjacent storage spaces in my brain.

I also discovered (on a menu) this special fall mushroom, more rare than porcini, called Caesar’s Mushroom (Ovolo buono). Early rulers of the Roman Empire were very fond of it, but it was not described for science until 1772. Formally named Amanita caesarea, it is an edible member of the Amanita genus, some of whose other members are deadly poisons. The mushrooms are native to North Africa and southern Europe, and grow deep underground beneath oak trees, deeper than truffles, or so my waiter informed me.

Other elements of my salad are baby spinach, celery curls, and parmesan, and a very light dressing. Steve was having Pasta Amatriciana, another very delicious Roman specialty that can be found in nearly every restaurant.

While I’m on the subject, here’s a young woman photographing her lunch at a sidewalk cafe in Trastevere.