Among the most commonly consumed nightshades, the eggplant is a favorite among market-goers.
Celebrated for their varying shapes and colors, these versatile vegetables (technically fruits) are rich in anti-inflammatory anthocyanins and the essential trace element manganese, which is important to bone formation. They are also full of fiber.
It's no wonder they've taken a foothold in Sicilian cuisine. But there would be no pasta alla Norma, pasta 'ncasciata, or eggplant Parmesan without the arrival of the Arabs in the ninth or tenth century, says Clifford Wright, a James Beard award-winning author of 19 books on cooking, food, history, and politics. His latest tome, An Italian Feast: The Celebrated Provincial Cuisines of Italy from Como to Palermo, features more than 800 recipes from the 109 provinces of Italy's 20 regions.
We recently discussed the eggplant's fascinating history and how its perception and use have evolved over the centuries.
What is your background, and how did you become interested in Italian food history?
I began cooking in 1967. I'm part Italian [with family from Pago Veiano in the province of Benevento in Campania]. My mother cooked Italian-American food; it was my home food. I also worked in restaurants whose chefs were Italian, and lastly, I often traveled to Italy and loved the food.
How did the eggplant first arrive in Southern Italy, and what were the initial reactions to eggplants?
Although most botanists believe southeastern India is the place of origin of the eggplant, and some botanists make a case for China, as well as the Malay peninsula, the place of origin is still unknown. Nikolai Vavilov identified the mountains of central and western China and its adjacent areas as the place of origin and India as the center of origin. It seems clear, though, that India is, at least, a secondary area of origin. The cultivated eggplant appears to be an improved form of either S. insanum or S. incanum, both of which are native to India.
What is the history of the eggplant?
Arab agriculturists brought the eggplant to the Mediterranean from Persia and perhaps from the Arabian Peninsula in the ninth or tenth centuries. The Arabs seem to have discovered the eggplant already growing in Persia shortly after their conquest of that country in 642 A.D., although several ancient Arabic names for the eggplant seem to come directly from other Indian names, indicating that the plant may have arrived in the Arabian Peninsula in pre-Islamic times.
The Arabs have long been fond of eggplant, and medieval Arabic cookery manuscripts always have many recipes. Although eggplant was initially treated with suspicion, it soon became a favorite vegetable. In fact, the medieval Arab toxicologist Ibn Waḥshīya (circa 904) said it was fatal when eaten raw.
Sicily was one of the first places in Europe where eggplant was grown after being introduced by Arab farmers. They were grown in Spain by the tenth century, although the first clear reference to them in Sicily is from 1309, where they are called melingianas and are grown in a garden along with cucumbers and a kind of gourd (squash).
Although the eggplant was once called "mad apple" (mala insana) because it was thought to produce insanity, this expression is not the etymological root of the Italian and Sicilian words for eggplant, melanzane, and mulinciana, respectively.
The Italian and Sicilian words derive from the Arabic word for the plant, bādhinjān, with the addition of the initial "M."
There are numerous recipes for eggplant from thirteenth-century Spain. This is notable because eggplant was a relatively new vegetable in Europe, and this is an early date for its being common.
The eggplant probably began as an ornamental in gardens as it was thought to be poisonous. Slowly, it became a Sicilian favorite.
What's a favorite traditional Sicilian dish that prominently features eggplant?
Certainly there is eggplant Parmesan. Although also popular in Campania, it is typically Sicilian.
For further insight and eggplant recipes, check out Clifford's books, A Mediterranean Feast, An Italian Feast, and Mediterranean Vegetables, available at cliffordawright.com or through your favorite online bookseller.
My mother was born in the U.S., but she didn't speak English until kindergarten. Instead, she spoke Sicilian as she was brought up in a Sicilian-speaking household. She's retained the language and uses it to communicate with our family back in Palermo and Porticello.
While I don't speak much Italian myself, I am most familiar with the Sicilian language.
Notice I didn't say dialect? That's because Sicilian is a separate language with a rich history that predates the Italian language. Recognized as a minority language by UNESCO and the European Charter for Regional or Minority Languages, Sicilian has its own Wikipedia section and is a featured Google Translate language.
For more insight into this unique Romance language, I sat down for a Zoom session with Gaetano Cipolla, a retired professor of Italian and Chairman of the Department of Modern Foreign Languages at St. John's University in New York City. Professor Cipolla additionally serves as president of Arba Sicula, an organization that promotes the language and culture of Sicily.
What is your background?
I was born in Sicily. I am from Francavilla di Sicilia. I came here as an immigrant in 1955, and, well, it's been a long time. I taught at St. John's and several other universities in the metropolitan area: NYU, Fordham… and others.
I became the president of Arba Sicula in 1988. I was also the editor for its publications.
I've published several books on Sicilian grammar. One is called Learn Sicilian, which is already in its fourth reprint. The second one is called Learn Sicilian II, which is a continuation. It presumes that you have studied Sicilian, that you know some Sicilian. It's an advanced course for Sicilian.
How are your books being used?
The first book, Learn Sicilian, is being used as a textbook in many different places. It's being used at Italian Charities of America here in New York. It was used also at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. And it is used in New Orleans, Buffalo, New York, and Rochester. The first grammar book was translated into Italian by a colleague of mine who teaches at the Manouba University in Tunis. He is the chair of Sicilian studies there, and he's teaching Sicilian using my textbook.
I had no idea that I was going to be able to see my textbook being used anywhere because it's very difficult to introduce not only a new language into a program, for example, at St. John's. I mean, I could have done it there, but not as part of the curriculum because people would probably object. What is the need for it? But I am glad to tell you that the first book is being used and bought in America by many, many people.
Tell us about your translation work.
I am a translator of Sicilian poetry. I translate all of the major poets who have written in Sicilian because, as you know, most people think wrongly that Sicilian is a dialect and a corruption of Italian, which is absolutely wrong.
I have actually produced two series of books that introduce Americans to Sicilian poetry because I believe that poets are a country's best ambassadors.
How did the various historical rulers of Sicily influence the Sicilian language?
If you study Sicilian, you will find that it has all the different words introduced into the language by the various people who have been there—mostly Spanish, Arab, French, even German, of course, Italian, and even English lately. Sicilian is an amalgam, a mixture of all different things. However, it retains its characteristics and its own language. And it is one of the very few original languages. Sicilian has been spoken in Sicily since the inception of civilization.
When the Siculi came to Sicily, they spoke a language that was similar to Latin. We don't know for sure, but we think that they came from the region of Lazio. And so they spoke a language that was very similar to Latin. That was their original language. Some people believe that it actually survived all the different invasions and the different dominations that have come and gone, some of which left marks on the language and some of which didn't. For example, the Vandals came to Sicily, but not very many words of the Vandals or the Ostrogoths actually remain.
For the first 150 years of Italian literature, whatever poetry was written in Italy, not just in Sicily, was written in Sicilian. Sicilians created the language in a sense, and then it moved up north after Frederick II, who created the Scuola Siciliana in the 13th century, died. So whenever people say that Sicilian is the corruption of Italian, it is absolutely wrong; Sicilian is its own language. If people say that Dante is the father of the language, which he truly is, then we must think that the mother of the Italian language is Sicily.
Are there variations of the language across Sicily?
There are many variations. If you go to Sicily, when you go from one town to the next, even five miles away, you will notice differences because the language spoken there is part of their history. You have to go back into the history of the town in order to find out why things are different.
When I started working on the Sicilian language, most people, even my colleagues who don't know Sicilian that well, asked me which Sicilian I was going to teach. I said Sicilian is one language. It is not a hundred different languages. Of course, I know that they will speak in a certain way in Catania. In Palermo, the same word will be pronounced differently. In Ragusa, it will also be pronounced differently. For example, I'll give you one word, the word for door, which is porta. In Catania, it will be pronounced so the consonant becomes like two Ts, which sounds like "potta." Or if you say morte, in Catania, they say "motti." However, the same words in Palermo will be pronounced differently. Morte will be pronounced "moitti."
So, it's almost an "oi" sound.
Yes. It introduced a little something, an "i" there, that colors everything. Each parlante of the 10 differences that we see doesn't impede communication. In other words, if there's someone in Palermo who says "moiti" instead of morte, all Sicilians will understand it. Sicilian is pretty homogeneous when you write it. So, if you write Sicilian, you will write it one way. I've never seen the word porta written other than porta. The variations exist, but not in the written language.
Is Sicilian more of an oral language than written?
Most people, except poets and scholars, don't write Sicilian because they consider it sort of an oral language. Most people don't even think that Sicilian can be written. Whenever I presented my mother with a page or word from my Arba Sicula journal, she would look at it; she would sort of verbalize it in her mouth. And once she knew what the word was, she said it perfectly.
A couple of months ago, I was giving a lecture at the Italian Charities, and there was a man who's been a member for many, many years—he's in his seventies. He said, Professor Cipolla, all my life, I have thought that Sicilian could not be written. I learned that Sicilian could be written only when I saw your work.
What are some unique phonetic or grammatical features that distinguish Sicilian from standard Italian?
A feature that is probably difficult for Sicilians is the sound of words like the song "Ciuri, Ciuri." We have had difficulty actually coming up with a way of writing that sound. Most people would write it with a cedilla like in Spanish underneath the "C." But other people would just pronounce it with a "C," which is obviously not the right sound because that would be "Churi" and not "Shuri." So even words like shirt, for example, would be camicia, pronounced "camicha" in Italian, but "camisha" in Sicilian.
What do you hope that people will take away from your lessons and your writings about the Sicilian language?
My work tries to educate the American public about the values and contributions that the Sicilians have made throughout their long 3000-year history. And it's a job that is never finished because Sicilian culture is a vast microcosm. Sicilians have lived for 3000 years, sometimes independent, sometimes dependent on various different dominators. But Sicilians have always kept their identity. One of the goals of my organization is to not only promote Sicilian culture but to educate people.
At the back of my Sicilian grandfather's impressive rose and vegetable garden, there stood a cage where, at the end of summer and early autumn, you would find enormous squashes hanging from the trellised roof. Nonno would pick these sometimes five-foot-long fruits, called cucuzzi, and bring them in for Nonna to prepare in a stew.
Marcella and I sat down to chat about her Great American Recipe experience and the Sicilian art of growing and cooking cucuzzi.
What is your background?
My parents were both born in Sicily. My mother is from Siracusa, and my father is from the Province of Catania, a really small town right outside of Catania called Palagonia. My dad did not come to this country until much later in life, in his early thirties, maybe very late twenties. My mother came when she was 10.
My mom speaks perfect English, but my father, Luigi, not so much. They live in Connecticut, which has a pretty large population of Italians, particularly Sicilians.
I've been an avid cook my whole life. I've no formal training whatsoever.
You were a finalist on The Great American Recipe. Tell us about that experience.
I made it to the finale, which was really exciting. One of the last dishes you make before the finale is something called "Your Recipe DNA." And it's supposed to be a dish that literally defines who you are both culturally and spiritually.
So, for me, there was absolutely no question that I was going to make cucuzza. And I was probably, in the same token, going to be introducing many, many people to this idea of this gourd.
Most people don't know what it is. It's not found anywhere in groceries or even at most farmer's markets. It's not found. And really, the only way you can come across cucuzza is if you grow them or you have an uncle or grandfather who grows them.
I knew the culinary producers would not be able to find a cucuzza for me. They told me, "I'm sorry, you're going to need to come up with an alternative dish. This isn't going to work for us." We don't know what that is, and we can't find it.
So I said, "If I can get my hands on one and have it shipped, may I use it?"
They said, "Good luck finding one."
This was in October, so we were at the end of the growing season. I called a million places, and I found J. Louis Liuzza of Liuzza's Cucuzza Farm in Independence, Louisiana. I messaged him on Facebook. He next-day air-mailed the most beautiful cucuzza I've ever seen in a wooden crate to the show.
I was so happy that I was able to prepare this dish on national television, which was really a really unique opportunity and a really sort of proud moment for me culturally from my perspective of growing up with this food, which, to me, is just synonymous with love and health and healing and history and simplicity. I mean everything that you would think of when you think of Sicilian culture; I just can't think of a better representation in one food that sort of encompasses all of that.
What cucuzza dish did you make on the show?
I made a classic cucuzza stew with broken spaghetti, tomatoes, potatoes. I really wanted the essence of the squash itself to stand and speak for itself without overcomplicating it. Because to me, even though there are myriad ways you can prepare cucuzza, this was the way that I remembered it as a kid. And so I wanted to make sure that I kind of did that process justice just by presenting it in its simplest form.
How was your cucuzza recipe received by The Great American Recipe judges?
Well, I made one of the judges, Francis Lam, cry. Tiffany Derry, a restaurateur, has been to Sicily, so she had heard of it but never tasted it. Tim Hollingsworth, a famous chef from L.A., had never had it either.
It was greatly received. I won that round.
The show is not a cutthroat competition. It's really more about showcasing how food connects us in America because we are a melting pot. We are made up of so many different cultures and so many different traditions. And food is sort of that common denominator. Even though we all have different traditions and flavor profiles, it's what kind of brings us all together.
I think the way I expressed my excitement for the cucuzza and the joy it brought me, that storyline… They liked that.
How did you land on the show?
I was contacted by a casting agent out of L.A. who happened to stumble across my Instagram. They were looking for different pockets in different regions of the country to ensure that they had good, well-rounded representation. My Instagram handle is @BostonHomeCooking, and they were trying to check that New England box. So it just happened to be really good luck.
You say you geek out about cucuzzi.
People laugh. So many people have tasted cucuzza for the first time because of me. It's just my love language. It's weird. I know it's a weird obsession, but I do love it.
Do you grow your own cucuzza plants?
I did this year, yes.
Every year, I go on this pilgrimage to find cucuzza somewhere. Somebody's got to be growing it. One of my uncles, one of my cousins, whoever it is. But because we live in New England, and this is a very sensitive squash that requires a lot of heat and a good setup, some seasons they would yield a lot and others they wouldn't.
I was just so tired every year of begging to people for their cucuzzas. So I just decided that I was going to just grow them myself. Fortunately, I had an excellent growing season this year. I think I yielded six, and I still have two more on the vine, which is a lot for the space that I allotted.
What's your cucuzza-growing set-up?
I used netting initially for the vines to climb, just to facilitate the climbing. There's a couple ways you could do it. You do not need anything fancy. You could grow snake squash on the ground.
It does not need to be elevated. The only reason why people do that is because it grows straight. When it's on the ground, it's really going to be formless, and that's when you get a lot of those spiral ones.
I wanted mine straight though. I had a vision in mind, and so I used some netting. What I did was I took one of my kids' old soccer nets that they were no longer using, cut it into pieces, and hung it down from the top of a pergola. It kind of grew up from there, and then it grew so out of control that it was over the fence, well into my neighbor's yard. He's the nicest guy and very tolerant of my hobby.
I think my biggest one was almost four feet long, and it was hanging in his yard. He had no idea what it was. As a thank you, I'm going to make him and his wife a pot of cucuzza stew just to say thanks.
You said your father grew cucuzza plants when you were a kid.
My dad had a very elaborate, thriving garden and still does, but because they spend time in Italy, he can't really go too crazy.
To the cousins and family members that I have in Italy, getting excited about cucuzza would be the equivalent of getting excited about a piece of gum. They're just like, "Okay, calm down."
"It's not that deep," my son says.
It is to me!
My daughter is 15, and I've made it my life's work as her mother to teach her how to make this dish because I am scared that this will sort of get watered out of our cultural identity.
For me, it's very important to make sure that I continue those traditions with her and to emphasize how important it is for her to do the same.
Where do you get your cucuzza seeds?
So, my dad brought me some Sicilian seeds, but to be honest with you, the best seeds I got were from my contact in Louisiana. My dad's are this monochromatic lime green—nothing special, but the three-tone from Louisiana… It's almost like tie-dyed or tiger-striped. I've never seen it in Sicily, and neither has my father.
How long does a cucuzza take to harvest?
I indoor plant my seeds in April. They sprout very quickly. Within two weeks, they're about six to 12 inches tall. From there, once they can sort of stand on their own, I then plant them in ground or in my raised garden bed. And it's a very quick growth in terms of leaves and vines, but the cucuzza themselves didn't start growing until July.
It's all temperature-dependent. Our summers don't start to get very hot in New England until mid-July, and the cucuzza is a very heat-loving plant. Once you get past the six inch mark, you're past the danger zone. You'll get 30 or 40 little ones that are maybe four or six inches, and they'll die on the vine, shrivel up, and die.
If you are having problems producing at all, it might mean that you don't have any insects pollinating for you. So you can self-pollinate. You can take a Q-tip. Or if you're really rustic, you just rip the flower off and [rub the male and female flowers together]. I did that for a few flowers, but most of the ones that grew, I didn't have to do.
It sounds intimidating, but it's really not. You've just got to water them every day, and you to have a good hot summer, which is why Sicily is the perfect island to grow them on.
Is there a secret to growing a bountiful cucuzza harvest?
There's all kinds of wives tales about what you should add to your soil. My dad is adamant that he takes the old espresso grinds from his coffee machine and then sprinkles them into the soil, which I did that. I have no idea if that really does anything. I also use manure just to sort of naturally fertilize and that's it.
How do you store cucuzzi after harvesting?
They don't all come out at once. They're very scattered in terms of the rate of growth and production. I prepare one almost immediately, and then a week later, another one will be ready to pick, and another. So it is spread out.
The best way to maintain your stash would be to cut it, peel it, and blanche it. Then drain it, airtight it, and then freeze it.
What's the texture and taste of cucuzza versus zucchini?
I always have the hardest time describing cucuzza to people. It's not like a zucchini. Zucchini, to me, does not have a sweet undertone at all. This does, and it's almost like the texture and consistency of what you'd have if you were to cook a cucumber.
Zucchini has a very distinct, almost earthy flavor, whereas a cucuzza, to me, tastes like candy.
My kids are like, "Do you know what candy tastes like?"
Maybe that's the wrong word for them. But when I say that, I just mean the sweetness. You really don't have to do much in terms of enhancing it.
What are some ways to cook cucuzzi?
The classic way is just the stew, which ironically is a soup essentially, and nobody would ever think that you would eat soup in the summer, particularly in Sicily, when it can be upwards of 110 [degrees Fahrenheit]. But they do. It's like this weird exception where they just eat it in the summer.
What I've been learning from some cucuzza Facebook groups is that down south, they marry it quite often with shrimp, which is something I had never done or thought to do. They almost do a jambalaya-type dish.
I like it fried, just straight-up fried with a little balsamic vinegar, and then obviously the pasta. I make different versions of it. I'll add sweet potatoes just to give it a different flavor profile.
When you share your love for growing and cooking cucuzza, what do you hope people take away?
I hope people are open to the idea of connecting to produce that is so indigenous to such a small island and appreciate its uniqueness because it is not plentiful where we are here in the United States. I want them to appreciate it in a way that you wouldn't necessarily give a regular vine vegetable. It's really a marvel.
In the wake of the popular series From Scratch and season two of The White Lotus, Sicily's having its moment as a destination. But that wasn't always the case. Little was known of the region in the U.S.—except for its ties to organized crime and mobster movies.
Writer and native New Yorker Mary Taylor Simeti had a different view. Living in Palermo and working on her husband's family farm, she sought to share insights into the island's sacred festivals, colorful residents, and vibrant produce.
The result, On Persephone's Island: A Sicilian Journal, transported to a whole new world, rich with introspection into what it means to be both a foreigner and a resident on Italy's largest island.
Mary spoke to me about the challenge of publishing such a book in the 1980s. Thankfully, the former regular contributor to the New York Times and Financial Times persisted and followed up with Pomp and Sustenance, the first English-language Sicilian cookbook.
Read on for our chat about the fascinating history of Sicily's food and how, at Bosco Falconeria, she and her husband paved the way for the island's certified organic farming movement.
Tell me about your background.
Well, I am American-born and grew up mostly in New York City. But as soon as I finished college, I came to Sicily to work as a volunteer for Danilo Dolci, who had a center outside of Palermo for development work. Sicily was still extremely poor, and there was still a lot of bomb damage and other damage from the war and also from centuries of invasion and exploitation. I meant to stay for a year. I've been here now; well, it'll be 62 years next month.
Where in Sicily are you?
I started out in Partinico, and then I spent 25 years in Palermo. And then we moved out once our children had finished high school in Palermo and were off studying elsewhere. We moved out to my husband's family farm, which is halfway between Palermo and Trapani, which is the westernmost point of Sicily.
What drew you to Sicily, and why did you stay?
Well, what drew me was the possibility of doing volunteer work with a development organization. This was 1962. It was the period of the big period of the Peace Corps. I didn't want to join the Peace Corps. I wasn't sure that I wanted to work as a representative of the American way of life. I thought everybody was entitled to their own way of life. I thought I wasn't going to stay very long, but I met my husband, I married him, and we thought we were going to be traveling around the world.
He was an agronomist (an agrarian economist), and he had applied to the FAO. We imagined a sort of itinerant life in the developing world with our basis here in Sicily. But then, two years after we were married, his oldest brother, who was running what was left of the family farm and taking care of the aging parents, died very suddenly. And we were left holding the bag, so to speak, and it became a passion. We were reluctant in the beginning but very glad in the end. The whole thing is, my whole life has been sort of serendipous. It's not planned.
How has your perspective on Sicilian culture evolved since you first arrived?
I was a medieval history major in college. And so I knew that sort of Sicily. I knew very little about modern Sicily. I came with curiosity, and I had the good luck to work together for a couple of years with an American anthropologist who was also volunteering at the center. She gave me tools to read what I was seeing. I don't think I had a very clear idea in the beginning, but I was open to finding out.
I didn't have a stereotype. Sicily was off the charts those days. People, it was considered a black hole of mafia and poverty and dried out wheat fields. I mean, a lot of people didn't have any idea of the enormous cultural heritage that is. And still, when my first book, On Persephone's Island, was published in 1986, the first editor I talked to about it in New York said to me, "Well, of course, you realize nobody wants to read the book about Sicily, but I like this idea… Why don't you develop that?" I said, well, I'm not interested in developing that. I'm interested in writing about Sicily. And I went elsewhere. I was lucky, but I managed to find people who were curious.
What was your goal with On Persephone's Island?
Well, I had always loved writing, but I had this feeling that I couldn't write a book about Sicily unless it were a definitive work, and it was obviously beyond me. I don't think there's anybody who could do the definitive work on Sicily because it's such an ancient and multifaceted place and culture. But I started writing the book because I had been asked to accompany a group of alumni from my American college around Sicily. Though I wasn't prepared to be an art history guide, I started telling people about what they were seeing in the fields, what was growing, how it was used, and how it was harvested. A lot of information that I had gained simply by living on a farm and because of what my husband did, but information that's not included in guidebooks. And I discovered that people were really interested.
What unique aspects of Sicilian cooking have you shared over the years with your books?
Well, for one thing, its antiquity. I mean, it is fusion cooking over the millennia, basically because it was conquered many, many times. What are considered the indigenous people of Sicily were not. People were living here at the end of the Ice Age.
There were three different peoples that came in: The Greeks came, and then the Romans came, and the Phoenicians were already here. Then, the Arabs came in and took over Sicily in the ninth century, and they were kicked out by the French Norman, a small colonizing force of roving knights. The Normans built a magnificent civilization that synthesized the great works of Norman architecture, the cathedrals, called the Arab-Norman Cathedrals, which have a combination of recycled Greek or Roman sculptures and mosaics from the Byzantine with Arab motifs. And they were glorious mixtures of all these traditions. And then we had the French, and then we had the Spanish, and then we had the Northern Italians, and so forth and so on. It goes on and on and on. Each of these people brought in not only new ideas and new art forms but also new plants and new vegetables and new fruits and new methods of cooking them.
How was Sicilian cuisine influenced by its diverse historical rulers and cultures?
I do know that in a cave, in a cavern on the western shore of Sicily, they've found lentils, chickpeas, and farro, which were developed in Anatolia and the Mesopotamian Highlands around 10,000 B.C. So people came and brought with them the foodstuffs. The known prehistoric peoples that came to Sicily were probably eating much the same basic diet as the Greeks.
One of the things that has determined Sicily's importance in history and how things have played out is the fact that it is mostly volcanic, extremely fertile soil. It's a big island. It's the biggest island in the Mediterranean, has a very central position, and very, very fertile soil yields much greater than anything the Greeks had ever seen in Greece, for example. Whereas classical Greece was praising the "Golden Mean" moderation of all things in terms of food. That was an invention of necessity. They couldn't indulge enormously because they didn't grow enough food.
One of the reasons for Greek colonization across the Mediterranean was the search for new sources of food. When they got to Sicily, they went a bit wild and started developing a very elaborate cuisine. The first cookbook in the Mediterranean world was written in Syracuse, and the first school for professional chefs was in Syracuse. There are certain traits that are still very common that come from the Greeks, such as the use of dried currents together with pine nuts, which is often attributed to the Arabs but was in the Roman cookbooks, which were, in turn, inspired by the Sicilian chefs.
Sicily is famous for its pastry traditions, and there are two very different traditions. One is the simpler cakes and biscuits, and very often with a fig filling using sesame seeds, but the Greeks sweetened with either honey or had vincotto, a boiled-down grape must.
When the Arabs came, they brought cane sugar, which arrived in Europe first through Sicily and then through Muslim Spain. It gave a much wider range of possibilities because it crystallized and remained crystallized, which honey or vincotto didn't.
They brought in almond paste, and they brought in crystallized fruit, and together, with the sugar, a whole tradition that became in the 12th and 13th centuries an important economic export of Sicily, famous for the sweet stuff that they sent north.
Then, they brought in new vegetables. They brought in the artichoke as we know it today, probably the lemons and certainly the bitter orange. The eggplant was brought by the Arabs, but whether they came here first or whether it came back here later from Spain with the Spanish Muslims is a question.
The Arabs were the first people to bring in and produce dried pasta as we know it today. The Romans had things they did with wheat and water that were similar, but the idea of a dried thing that you then boil came here thanks to the Arabs.
Tell me about your farm, Bosco Falconeria.
It's on the edge of the boundary between the territory of Partinico and the territory of Alcamo. But it's an area in which most of the land belongs to people from Alcamo.
This piece of it was bought by my husband's grandfather in 1930. So it is close to a hundred years we've been here. My husband and I rebuilt the farmhouse, which was not in good shape but was quite badly damaged in the 1968 earthquake. And we used the government subsidies for earthquake damage to rebuild the frame of the house.
My husband's grandfather was a wine merchant maker. The wine that was made here on the farm was wine that came not only from his own grapes, but in that era, this was an area of small farms; there were no cooperative wine cellars. So, the small peasant with a few acres of vineyards was at the mercy of a middleman who would charge him outrageously high interest on the money. They advanced him so that he could get through the next year's cultivation.
My husband's grandfather was a wonderful man, and he loaned money to anybody who asked him without ever charging any interest. So he had a fairly good-sized clientele; people who came brought him their grapes. The wine was made here and stored here. And then most of it was taken down in barrels, mounted on Sicilian carts, to the port, where there were the warehouses of the big vermouth companies. Because in those days, most Sicilian wine was not table wine. It was a very strong wine that was used either to make vermouth or was sold in Europe to be taken to Northern Europe to bring up the alcoholic content of the much weaker northern wines.
The alcoholic content of wine depends on how much sun the grapes get. It's the sun that brings out the sugar content, and in northern climates, wines tend to be much lower in sugar content and, therefore, less stable. The stronger the wine, the better it keeps and the better it ages.
So that's what Sicilian wines were: mostly really strong stuff still. The big transformation of the Sicilian wine industry started in the seventies, and now almost all the wine I think that's produced here is table wine. Some of it's still pretty undrinkable, but most of it is really excellent. The wine picture has changed totally since I've been here.
Aside from wine grapes, what else do you grow?
We have olives, we have table grapes, and we have avocados, which are a novelty here. We have a small mixed citrus orchard. We sell some grapefruit and some oranges, but mostly, they are for family consumption in one way or another. And we don't do much in the way of vegetables anymore. We used to, but they're so labor-intensive.
We went organic before there was organic certification in Italy in the second half of the 80s. And in the beginning, it was worth it. Even though we had to pay a lot in labor costs, it was worth our while to produce organic vegetables because there weren't that many producers of organic vegetables. Nowadays, there's a lot of organic produce in Sicily, more than any other region in Italy.
You've written six books. What do you hope readers take away?
Well, in the beginning, I really wasn't thinking about that. I was just hoping that there were some people out there who might be interested in things that I found so interesting about Sicily. I was first told nobody wanted to read about Sicily. And then, when I told my editor I wanted to do a history of Sicilian cuisine, she said, "Oh, is there one?" And Pomp and Sustenance was the first book in English on Sicilian cooking. Americans, for a long time, didn't even realize that there was anything more essential than the difference between the white cuisine of Milan and the red cuisine of Naples.
In the beginning, it was simply to talk about the things that were interesting here and hope I could pay back Sicily for all it's given to me. I felt like a self-appointed ambassador.
I've had so many beautiful letters from people who say, "You gave me back childhood recipes my grandmother used to cook." That has been totally unexpected but very, very rewarding.
My Sicilian grandmother may have been the cook of the household, but it was my grandfather who grew much of the produce she used in her dishes.
I can still remember sitting in the kitchen as Luciano Pavarotti's tenor voice filtered through the fragrant air. Nonna was stirring a pot of something wonderful on the stove when Nonno burst through the door with a tray of sun-dried tomatoes. He'd dried them himself by wrapping the tray in plastic and setting it out in the sun to do its magic. Who needed store-bought when doing it yourself was so easy and delicious?
Food blogger Andrea Lagana of Hip Hip Gourmet agrees, but she "sun dries" her tomatoes in the oven before popping them into a dehydrator.
"Doing it outside is nice and all, but there are lots of variables to consider (such as bugs, temperature, rain, etc.), so using a dehydrator is the no-fail preferred method in our family," she says.
Andrea took time out to share why she dries her own tomatoes, which tomatoes are best for drying, how to boost dried tomato flavor, and which recipes are best for sun-dried tomatoes.
What is your background, and where is your Italian family from?
I'm a proud second-generation Italian. Both of my parents were born in Italy, both in Calabria, but in different towns. My dad is from Scilla, and my mom is from Montalto Uffugo.
Did your family sun-dry tomatoes?
My parents don't actually remember their families sun-drying tomatoes in Italy because they were so small when they left. However, my mom does have a few memories of her aunts and uncles sun-drying figs from their fresh backyard fig trees, so I'm sure it's not far-fetched to say that they did tomatoes, too.
When did you start sun-drying tomatoes, and why?
I started sun-drying tomatoes as soon as I started living on my own (about a decade or so ago!). It was always a staple in our house growing up and something I would help my parents make every year. I just knew I had to carry on the tradition not only because we've been making them for so long but also because they're so dang delicious, and I seriously can't live without them! So much so that I've actually vowed to make them every year for the rest of my life.
What is your preferred tomato-drying method?
I personally like to start my fresh halved (usually Roma or San Marzano) tomatoes in the oven on the lowest rack for a couple of hours. Then, I transfer them to a dehydrator to finish drying out. This process can be long and requires patience and persistence, as you have to keep going in every so often to check on them and take the ready ones out (they can be ready at different times). I like this method because it's efficient, reliable, and easy.
However, if I lived in Italy under the hot Italian sun, perhaps I would stick to the old-fashioned way of actually using the sun to dry them out completely. My mom used to start them outside in the sun in our backyard (instead of the oven), and then she'd move them to the dehydrator to finish.
How does the process differ from traditional sun-drying?
Traditional sun-drying includes salting the halved tomatoes to draw out excess moisture (which we don't do) and placing them in direct sunlight for several days with a protective covering like a screen or a cheesecloth to keep the insects away. The tomatoes will get rotated or flipped a few times during this process to ensure even drying. The process is generally longer than my family's method of using a dehydrator, as the sun must be shining in order for the tomatoes to dry out completely.
What types of tomatoes are best suited for sun-drying?
We love using fresh and ripe Roma or San Marzano tomatoes for sun-drying. These beauties are the perfect size (go for the smaller ones) and have fewer seeds and more "meat" than other varieties. They also have a firm texture and lower water content, making them ideal for sun-drying. We also make fresh tomato sauce at the same time, and, as any Italian will tell you, Roma and/or San Marzano are basically the only options!
Can you list some common mistakes to avoid when making sun-dried tomatoes?
Not using the right tomatoes: Remember, San Marzano or Roma. My Italian parents wouldn't approve of any other variety!
Overcrowding the dehydrator. The air needs room to circulate, and overcrowding the trays or overlapping the tomatoes will result in uneven and improperly dried tomatoes. For best results, place the tomatoes in a single and even layer.
Taking the sun-dried tomatoes out too soon. You want to make sure they are dry but still bendy when you press them between your fingers. They shouldn't be moist, squishy, or hard at all.
Not tossing the ready ones in a splash of oil while waiting for the rest to finish. As I said, this process can take several days (or even weeks, depending on how many tomatoes you're drying). Tossing the ready ones in a bit of oil and keeping them in a container with a tight-fitting lid keeps them fresh and prevents mold before jarring.
Not ensuring that all of the sun-dried tomatoes are completely submerged in oil at all times (after jarring). Make sure to always press them down beneath the oil with a fork after each use and/or topping up the oil as often as is needed.
Not having patience. It's a virtue and so required in this process. But trust me, it's totally worth it and will pay off tenfold!
How can you enhance the flavor of tomatoes during the drying process?
You can definitely add salt to the halved tomatoes before drying. I'm sure you could also add some spices (e.g., garlic powder or Italian seasoning) if you wish. I haven't ever tried doing this before drying, but I'm sure it would be a good experiment.
Personally, my family likes to keep the tomatoes plain Jane during the drying process. We enhance the flavor after the tomatoes are completely dried out by adding loads of fresh chopped garlic, oregano, salt, and oil as we jar them.
What are the benefits of drying tomatoes at home versus buying them from a store?
Like anything homemade, they're just way better for so many reasons! First and foremost, they are much cheaper in the long run than store-bought varieties. I find that you can't find a good-tasting jar of sun-dried tomatoes for less than $15 these days (and I'm talkin' the smallest of small jars you could find). I also find that the oil used in most jarred varieties isn't an oil I consume on a regular basis, so I prefer making my own so I can control the exact ingredients and measurements that go into each jar.
And, of course, the real benefit of making sun-dried tomatoes at home is that I seriously cannot find a sun-dried tomato that is as delicious as the ones my family has been making for all of these years. Call me biased, but it's a fact!
What are some creative ways to incorporate sun-dried tomatoes into your cooking?
I love using sun-dried tomatoes in my cooking, so I feel like I can never have enough of them! Eating them straight out of the jar is, of course, also delicious. But here are some ways I like to use them:
In pasta—why, of course! I wouldn't be Italian if I didn't suggest throwing some into the next pasta dish you make. My mom adds them to her pasta aglio e olio (a traditional simple olive oil and garlic pasta), which takes it to a whole other level.
If you're feeling fancy (but not really, because all it takes is 10 minutes to make!), try my pesto rosso (aka my sun-dried tomato pesto), where the homemade sun-dried tomatoes are the true star! You can use this pesto on pasta, as a base for a pizza, or as a marinade for things like chicken or pork. It's even great on eggs.
I love chopping sun-dried tomatoes and adding them to anything, from pizza (they're so good on pizza!) to meatballs (like my homemade sun-dried tomato turkey meatballs with spinach and goat cheese).
One of my favorite things to do with sun-dried tomatoes is make Mediterranean-inspired dishes. They pair well with olives, capers, artichoke hearts, and spinach.
Here are two of my go-to recipes that use sun-dried tomatoes:
Diane Kelly, Teresa Rea, Diana Pellegrini, and Teresa Wagstaff at the U.S. National Bocce Tournament
It's the quintessential Italian sport, now played worldwide, attracting people of all ages and rivaling soccer in its popularity. Bocce, a form of competitive lawn bowling, has emerged from your grandfather's bocce court as a serious contender for the Olympic Games, falling just short of the requisite 16 countries. And it's become more common to see women participating and competing at elite levels. Just ask Mill Valley, California, resident Teresa Rea, who, along with her teammate Jolene Kramer, won the 2019 U.S. National Bocce Championship Women's Doubles Gold Medal.
Teresa, who is represented by the Marin Bocce Federation, sat down with me to discuss bocce basics.
How did you get started with bocce ball?
In 1999, someone suggested that I join their league team. I'd never played, and I played 20 years of volleyball. So, they knew I had hand-eye coordination, which is probably the one requirement for this sport. And so I've been playing in leagues at Marin Bocce Federation ever since. But in 2004, I discovered there were regional leagues and regional tournaments. Sometimes, it's four-player: four men, four women, two men, two women… There are three-player tournaments, there are two-player tournaments, and there are singles tournaments. They're all around what's called the Western Sector of the United States Bocce Federation. That is the nationwide organization that represents us with Canada, with Europe, with South America.
In 2004, I began playing in those tournaments and upped my game. About two or three years later, I began playing Punto Raffa Volo, the principal Italian game.
What exactly is Punto Raffa Volo?
Punto means pointing. You're bending over and lagging the ball. Raffa is a running shot where you approach a fixed line, must then throw your ball, and clear a line about 12 feet out. And then, having called your target shot, you're aiming for a specific ball down the court. Volo is similar, but you run to a different line, and you have to hit your designated target ball on the fly.
And there's a high degree of precision in it that does not exist in the open play that many Americans play. You can't bump another ball more than 40 centimeters in our game. If you do, there are a lot of rules. Balls are all marked, and things can be put back and removed from the court if you don't hit your target. So, I've been playing that ever since.
I had the opportunity to represent the United States and play in the United States Bocce Federation Nationals, which occur the last week of every June, sometimes in California, typically Chicago, St. Louis, or Boston. That attracts players from around the country to play several different formats. And then, in 2019, probably the best moment was when my teammate Jolene Kramer and I won the gold medal in the women's doubles.
What are the basic rules of bocce?
The object of the game after you've thrown the small ball, or pallino, out onto the court past the center line is to get at least one or more of your balls closer to the pallino than the opponent. And you take turns trying to do so. You may either be trying to get closer or bump them out and leave yourself there to be closer. And if you get one of your balls, only one of your balls closer than any of theirs, you get one point, two, three… If all four of your balls are closer, you get what's called a casino.
That's a simple open game. The object of Punta Raffa Volo is still the same. You want to have more of your balls closer to the pallino than the other team. Only the team with the close balls gets points in a given frame.
What's another popular style of bocce?
There is another game called Volo that's part of this collection, and you play with metal balls, and there's lagging. It's about 50% lagging and 50% shooting. And that's mostly men, I would say. Yeah, it's 90% men because it's all about throwing the ball the entire distance of the court.
What's the history of bocce?
Well, I mean, we all suspect that it started with a couple of cavemen saying, "I can throw this rock closer to that rock than you can." It's evolved in each country because bocce is the Italian version of boules lawn bowling. Boules and pétanqueare French, and lawn bowling is English.
It evolved predominantly in the countryside on crushed oyster shells or dirt courts, which leads to a somewhat lumpy terrain that's played on. But it has evolved to the point where most of the Italian clubs are indoors, and it's a synthetic rubber surface that is mostly flat. I've only met one pair of courts that was literally perfect. Everything else has its little idiosyncrasies because the earth under it moved, or the building shifted, or whatever.
What is it like to be a woman playing this stereotypically male game?
Well, amongst the players, the presumption is that the women will only do the lagging [the typical rolling style]. They'll not do the shooting [aiming to displace another ball on the court]. That has eased over the decades that I've been playing so that there's every reason to believe a woman's as likely to be a shooter as a man.
Young boys tend to gravitate to the sport because of the chance to shoot. So very often, you'll see if it's a mixed doubles foursome, the woman will be doing the first two balls and lagging for position, and the man will be doing the latter half. When they created the categories for women to play doubles together, many more women learned how to shoot. And now, probably 60% of the men shoot, but at least 40% of the women do.
Have you been to Italy?
Oh, yes. Twice. My best friend from high school married a Fiorentino, and the three of us and their two kids went roaming through Tuscany. Multiple times, we saw men out playing bocce on their dirt courts. Once, in Cinque Terra, I also saw a bocce court right near the beach.
Do you have a favorite Italian dish?
Probably eggplant parmigiana.
What do you do when you're not playing bocce?
I'm retired now, but I was a land-use planner for 30 years.
So, what's next for you?
There are still tournaments, and I'll probably participate in a fundraiser in October. The beauty of fundraisers is that you can have players of all levels who care to join and play, and you're making money for a nonprofit that needs support.
>>Looking to join a bocce club? Here are some tips.<<
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