The recipe: p474, "Asparagi alla Valdostana"
Get in! I was hoping the fickle finger of fate might land on this book sooner rather than later.
You see, I bloody love The Silver Spoon. It's understandably viewed as the Bible of Italian cookery - it's even one of the country's most popular wedding gifts - and I'll endeavour to give it the dedicated blog post it merits some time. Suffice to say that I had to tell random.org to pick a page number between 57 and 1325, which gives you some indication of its sheer scale.
I had it on my Amazon Wishlist for the longest time, until a birthday voucher burning a hole in my (virtual) pocket finally tipped me over the edge. It's not a cheap purchase, but it is just gorgeous, packed with recipes from the challenging (basically entire banquets) to the simple ("here, have ten different ways of searing carrots"), all presented in an eminently readable, modern but elegant format. Seriously, just look at that. You could spend ages just poring over the various sections and drooling. And I have done. Repeatedly.
But that's precisely the problem. I've owned The Silver Spoon for a good three years, yet probably used it for about three recipes in that time. Admittedly, one is the aforementioned Devil's Fennel, a firm favourite that gets deployed every time those £1 scoops at Lewisham Market are overflowing with bulb-y, aniseed-y goodness. But otherwise, my Italian Bible is a beautiful but woefully underused presence in my life. Enter The Random Kitchen...
The prep: "Asparagi alla Valdostana" doesn't say much to me in terms of what might be involved (asparagus aside, obviously). The Silver Spoon helpfully translates it into English as "Valle d'Aosta Asparagus", which: thanks. Fortunately, it turns out to be a fairly uncomplicated oven bake, and asparagus is on offer at the supermarket right now, so let's just call me Success Kid and be done with it.
The only concession I have to make is substituting the Fontina cheese - a Valle d'Aosta speciality; not so much a Lewisham one. Wikipedia tells me that Fontina "has a mild, somewhat nutty flavor, while rich, herbaceous and fruity. It melts well." Which is nice. Gruyère seems like a reasonable alternative.
The making: A metric buttload of asparagus (I believe that to be the technical term) is trimmed then cooked in salted, boiling water for ten minutes. After being drained and arranged in a dish, it's topped with strips of cooked ham and slices of the Gruyère. Then two eggs are beaten with grated Parmesan (because one cheese just isn't enough) and poured over the top. The dish goes in the oven for 15-20 minutes until the eggs have set and the top is nicely browned, and that's about it.
This could work as a decadent side dish, but as it's lunchtime, my radical serving suggestion instead involves solo presentation with a hunk of crusty bread to mop up any errant juices:
The eating: Confounding my expectations, the baking process results in a dish that's dead easy to slice and serve, initially appearing to have the consistency of a frittata. Sadly, containing rather fewer eggs than a frittata means it quickly falls apart on the plate, leading to an effect that's more "here's a bunch of things near each other" than a particularly cohesive whole.
Still, when those things are asparagus, cheese, ham and more cheese, who's complaining?
On balance, combining the ingredients at the assembly stage rather than layering might prevent this, as might boiling the asparagus for a few minutes less - once it's been in the oven too, the veg does come out a little bit sloppy. Still, the end result is a pleasing one. It's the ideal lunch really, kidding you into thinking you're being healthy with all that lovely green stuff, then hitting you with the salty suckerpunch of CHEESE OVERLOAD.
Sam thinks it seems like a lot of effort for a quite simple end result, but it's more time than effort really - the constituent steps are a doddle, but if you're looking for a quick turnaround to hit your hunger where it hurts, you'll need to look elsewhere. In any case, I'm reasonably convinced, and the marriage of asparagus, ham and all teh cheeses!!1! will be more than welcome on my plate again.
As I summon up the Herculean strength required to lift the book and return it to the shelf, I find myself contemplating the possibility of a follow-up blog, The Random Silver Spoon, to keep me occupied in 2017...
One-word verdict: Sloppylicious.
No comments:
Post a Comment