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Salted anchovies - acciughe sotto sale
These are the right anchovies to make the "bagna cauda", the Piedmontese specialty.
-------------------------
The Piemontese term "bagna cauda" means literally "hot sauce" (hot because temperature, not because spiciness).
This is not strictly a Torinese specialty, but it was imported from the southern Piemonte "farmland".
Once my dad made it to a Philippine girl, thinking to make her something very exclusive but, after this girl tasted it, she told: "Wonderful! It's just made in my granny's way!"
Now I don't know if centuries ago some Piemontese peasants colonized the Philippines, or if it's just a random case, but it's cool to have something to share somewhere else in the world.
The bagna cauda is a whole meal on its own: no need to have a first course and a second course, because it requires so much time to be eaten that it's enough to fill an evening party.
The most important ingredient are the anchovies: without the right anchovies you can't have a good bagna cauda. You need to find these salted anchovies stored into big cans, usually from Spain, which are "hard" and dry [Note - The good anchovy must be "beaten" to remove the excess of salt, and if it's too soft all you got is a crunched anchovy instead of a fish fillet]. The original recipe requires the whole anchovy, but I prefer to remove the bones and to wash away the salt. For each person you can begin with 4 anchovies, but you'll can increase them for your next preparations if the first one is a success.
Then there is the garlic. The original recipe of southern Piemonte requires a head of garlic for every person, but I guess a couple of teeth would be enough.
Third, you need a lot of oil, and this is the case where a very light oil is needed, or you get something too much "greasy".
Well, of course this sauce must be placed somewhere, and here you must visit your greengrocer's, who will find you a very nice customer, after this.
Every vegetable is good when dipped into the bagna cauda, but some are better (I guess you'll don't like to dip with your finger a pea into boiling oil...).
Try to find Jerusalem artichokes [Note - Strange definition: the Italian term is "topinambur", and the Piemontese is "ciapinabò" or "tapinabò". The Latin scientific name is Heliantus tuberosus, if you prefer, and it makes wonderful yellow daisies, too], cardoons [Note - The hunchbacked cardoon of Chieri, a small town close to Torino, would be the best type. If you don't find it be careful to look for the whitest cardoons], celery, bell peppers, fennels, leeks, spring onions, radishes, white mushrooms.
To make the bagna cauda is almost easy: maybe the most annoying part is to clean the anchovies [Note - Tip: wear latex gloves, or all the cats of the neighborhood will follow your hands for a week]. Remove the excess salt, open the anchovies and take away the bones [Note - Are you a fishing lover? Keep the bones to make good baits], better under running water, then dry the fillets with a piece of kitchen paper.
Into a deep earthenware pot place the oil, the sliced garlic and the anchovies fillets, then boil on low fire for at least half an hour, stirring until the whole becomes like a soft brownish cream.
Somebody adds some milk to "sweeten" the garlic, but this is considered as an heresy by the purists. Feel free to try both, and to use the milk if you prefer it.
The bagna cauda must be eaten hot: otherwise its name become a nonsense.
There are two ways to eat it: the "rough" way and the "classy" way.
The "rough" way requires that everybody, standing up, dip the vegetables into the pot placed in the middle of the table, while for the "classy" way there would be the need of a special earthenware piece, in Piemontese called "fuiot" [Note - I don't know if there is an Italian word for it]. This is done with a lower part where to place a short candle, to keep the bagna cauda at the right temperature, and an upper bowl.
I know it is possible to find sets for the French "fondue à la bourguignonne" (meat dipped into boiling oil) and they works fine for a not-so-rough bagna cauda.
In any case the vegetables must be dipped into the bagna cauda with bare hands (except of course the sliced Jerusalem artichokes and the radishes). So they must be sliced in a long shape, to avoid to dip even the fingers into the boiling oil.
A strong red wine, like a Barbera or a Dolcetto, is mandatory to accompany the bagna cauda.
If you don't want to engage yourself into all this mess for a convivial bagna cauda, it is also possible to use it as a cold sauce over the bell peppers and some types of salad, like the Belgian endive, to have a nice antipasto.
To make this just slice the bell pepper in long pieces, trying to have them in a "canoe" shape, then place a spoon of bagna cauda inside every slice.
With the Belgian endive it's even easier, because it has by its own the right shape.
From my book "Flavor and Tales of Torino":
-------------------------
Queste sono le acciughe giuste per fare la "bagna cauda".
Salted anchovies - acciughe sotto sale
These are the right anchovies to make the "bagna cauda", the Piedmontese specialty.
-------------------------
The Piemontese term "bagna cauda" means literally "hot sauce" (hot because temperature, not because spiciness).
This is not strictly a Torinese specialty, but it was imported from the southern Piemonte "farmland".
Once my dad made it to a Philippine girl, thinking to make her something very exclusive but, after this girl tasted it, she told: "Wonderful! It's just made in my granny's way!"
Now I don't know if centuries ago some Piemontese peasants colonized the Philippines, or if it's just a random case, but it's cool to have something to share somewhere else in the world.
The bagna cauda is a whole meal on its own: no need to have a first course and a second course, because it requires so much time to be eaten that it's enough to fill an evening party.
The most important ingredient are the anchovies: without the right anchovies you can't have a good bagna cauda. You need to find these salted anchovies stored into big cans, usually from Spain, which are "hard" and dry [Note - The good anchovy must be "beaten" to remove the excess of salt, and if it's too soft all you got is a crunched anchovy instead of a fish fillet]. The original recipe requires the whole anchovy, but I prefer to remove the bones and to wash away the salt. For each person you can begin with 4 anchovies, but you'll can increase them for your next preparations if the first one is a success.
Then there is the garlic. The original recipe of southern Piemonte requires a head of garlic for every person, but I guess a couple of teeth would be enough.
Third, you need a lot of oil, and this is the case where a very light oil is needed, or you get something too much "greasy".
Well, of course this sauce must be placed somewhere, and here you must visit your greengrocer's, who will find you a very nice customer, after this.
Every vegetable is good when dipped into the bagna cauda, but some are better (I guess you'll don't like to dip with your finger a pea into boiling oil...).
Try to find Jerusalem artichokes [Note - Strange definition: the Italian term is "topinambur", and the Piemontese is "ciapinabò" or "tapinabò". The Latin scientific name is Heliantus tuberosus, if you prefer, and it makes wonderful yellow daisies, too], cardoons [Note - The hunchbacked cardoon of Chieri, a small town close to Torino, would be the best type. If you don't find it be careful to look for the whitest cardoons], celery, bell peppers, fennels, leeks, spring onions, radishes, white mushrooms.
To make the bagna cauda is almost easy: maybe the most annoying part is to clean the anchovies [Note - Tip: wear latex gloves, or all the cats of the neighborhood will follow your hands for a week]. Remove the excess salt, open the anchovies and take away the bones [Note - Are you a fishing lover? Keep the bones to make good baits], better under running water, then dry the fillets with a piece of kitchen paper.
Into a deep earthenware pot place the oil, the sliced garlic and the anchovies fillets, then boil on low fire for at least half an hour, stirring until the whole becomes like a soft brownish cream.
Somebody adds some milk to "sweeten" the garlic, but this is considered as an heresy by the purists. Feel free to try both, and to use the milk if you prefer it.
The bagna cauda must be eaten hot: otherwise its name become a nonsense.
There are two ways to eat it: the "rough" way and the "classy" way.
The "rough" way requires that everybody, standing up, dip the vegetables into the pot placed in the middle of the table, while for the "classy" way there would be the need of a special earthenware piece, in Piemontese called "fuiot" [Note - I don't know if there is an Italian word for it]. This is done with a lower part where to place a short candle, to keep the bagna cauda at the right temperature, and an upper bowl.
I know it is possible to find sets for the French "fondue à la bourguignonne" (meat dipped into boiling oil) and they works fine for a not-so-rough bagna cauda.
In any case the vegetables must be dipped into the bagna cauda with bare hands (except of course the sliced Jerusalem artichokes and the radishes). So they must be sliced in a long shape, to avoid to dip even the fingers into the boiling oil.
A strong red wine, like a Barbera or a Dolcetto, is mandatory to accompany the bagna cauda.
If you don't want to engage yourself into all this mess for a convivial bagna cauda, it is also possible to use it as a cold sauce over the bell peppers and some types of salad, like the Belgian endive, to have a nice antipasto.
To make this just slice the bell pepper in long pieces, trying to have them in a "canoe" shape, then place a spoon of bagna cauda inside every slice.
With the Belgian endive it's even easier, because it has by its own the right shape.
From my book "Flavor and Tales of Torino":
-------------------------
Queste sono le acciughe giuste per fare la "bagna cauda".