It is an indisputable truth that the air in Florence, Italy, is a harbinger of some of the most gastronomically exceptional foods on the planet. Ristorantes, osterias, and trattorias owned by Italian Nonna’s who grew up with rolling pins in hand send fragrant aromatics of onions, garlic, basil, and oregano wafting through the air – gustatory sirens that will tempt you to step away from pursuing viral TikTok attractions and revel in world-renowned art.
Should you neglect an Italian repast in favor of checking off another item on your itinerary, you will have missed one of the most basic tenets of this culture – that food and the Italian identity are inextricable and arguably as important as visiting the Statue of David. In a world that continues to prioritize industriousness and speed, Italians have retained the perspective that meals are a reprieve from the ever-encroaching demands of society at large.
Perhaps that is why so many visitors readily embrace the experience of dining over the course of several hours, eating al fresco at small tables arranged in tight configurations on the sidewalks outside of their chosen venue. Savoring a bottle of wine with a slew of aperitivos while watching both locals and travelers from around the globe enjoy an evening walk is an experience not to be omitted.
However, epicureans take heed: Italy is perhaps one of a select few countries where it is possible to eat at a five-star restaurant and feel something missing from the experience. You will most likely not find one iota to disparage during the meal. Afterward, while strolling by ochre-hued buildings, with their windows flung open, the voices of families either arguing or laughing (or both) during meal time, you will realize what was remiss about your experience. A touch of magic exists in an Italian home, and it is dispensed with a wave of a wooden spoon, often by a nonna (grandmother in Italian).
As winter weather approaches and exams loom, I have a recipe (with a modification for busy students) for a polenta soup from the kitchen of two women from Tuscany, Carla Geri Camporesi and Barbara Gollini. The recipe comes from Curiosities and Delights of Tuscany, a lesser-known cookbook that is rich in traditional Tuscan recipes, which I acquired from a kind bed and breakfast host while staying in Florence this past summer. While this dish may not be a one-way ticket to the Tuscan countryside, it can bring some of that nonna-made magic into your own home.
Bortadino
- 25 oz of fresh red beans (I used 2 cans of red beans as fresh red beans were not available)
- 7 oz of corn flour
- ½ cup extra virgin olive oil
- a handful of black cabbage (optional)
- 1 tablespoon of tomato sauce
- 1 onion
- 1 stalk of celery
- parsley or basil (I prefer using basil in this recipe)
- 1 carrot
- 1 clove of garlic
- salt to taste
If you have a food processor, add 1 can of beans with 1 cup of water and emulsify. You also may use an immersion blender or a potato masher (which will render a less homogenized base).
Then, add water until you reach 2 liters. While you bring the water to a boil, cut the cabbage into thin strips and then add to the pot with salt.
Finely cut the garlic, celery, and parsley, and prepare an onion and carrot (chop as you please).
Add the onions to a pan and cook until browned. Then add the carrot, garlic, celery, and parsley and cook the vegetables on low until they are sufficiently tender.
Mix in the tomato sauce and let it sit for 5 minutes.
Transfer the sauteed vegetables to the broth, stir, and then boil the new mixture together.
Sprinkle in cornmeal and then stir the soup continuously for thirty to forty minutes until thickened.
Making Nonna Proud
I can admit that I was a little more than intimidated when I set out to make this Bortadino. While I am no novice in the kitchen by any means, aiming to follow and adequately replicate this recipe—one I tried while in Florence, which set the bar—with a college-student budget felt daunting. Surely, whatever I could whip up at home would never hold a candle to the versions of this dish being served back in Tuscany, right?
I am pleased to say that even though it was not an exact match, this homemade Bortadino will be sure to stand up against even the pickiest eaters (my little sister can testify) and just might become your next meal-prep staple.