In this installment
Taralli Olive Oil Crackers
Italian Black Olive Tapenade
Finocchiona Salami
Taralli Olive Oil Crackers
Taralli are everywhere in Italy. Even the smallest grocery stores will sell at least a half dozen kinds of ’em. When you eat out, there’s a good chance that your bread basket will include a few taralli. And depending on the restaurant, the taralli may be better than the bread.
Because that’s the thing: good taralli are really simple, but really tasty. They look like tiny bagels, about the size of a quarter. They’re made with wheat and olive oil and they’re crunchy and flaky and they practically melt in your mouth as you eat them. As soon as you finish one handful you’re already reaching for another.
They’re the perfect crisp little crackers to toss in a bowl for an antipasto spread. Eat them like an Italian, with cheese, salami, and olives. Crumble them up on top of soup for a new take on oyster crackers. Or just snack on them straight from the bag. Just be careful or you might finish them all in one sitting.
Italian Black Olive Tapenade
I visited Caricato about a dozen years ago. It was a business living in the last century, and by that I mean the one before the last one. No one spoke English, they had a friend come over to translate. We started the afternoon in the parlor on the second floor, all the shades drawn because even in May the Southern Italian heat was melting its way in. The mother, the father, the son—the entire business—met and we talked about olives.
Later they took me to see the press. It was stone and that was the last time I’ve ever seen a stone olive press, they’re all stainless steel now. They took me to the farm. It was a mixed planting field, rows of olive trees were interspersed with artichokes and grapes. It was the only time I’ve ever seen an Italian farm planted that way, they’re almost all monoculture now. The farm’s paths were flowered in chamomile. There was a hundred year old caper bush, its trunk as thick as a pine. I must have made a scene about it because when I left that night I was given a shoe box full of capers. I portered them back to Ann Arbor and gave them to the crew.
All this has nothing specific to say about this olive paste. It’s just black olives, crushed and salted. If you like that kind of thing, and imagine how Caricato’s poignant lack of progess affects such simple foods, you can guess how good it tastes.
Finocchiona Salami
In Italy, finocchiona salamis are a staple. They’re known and named for their signature ingredient: fennel seeds (fennel is finocchio in Italian, pronounced “fee-noh-kee-oh”).
The recipe goes back past the Renaissance to a time when pepper—another popular ingredient in salami—was really expensive and hard to get. Fennel, however, grew wild and everywhere. The strong, herbal flavor of fennel gave the otherwise plain meat some punch and character.
This version from Red Bear Provisions is an awesome example of the classic. Made with premium cuts of heritage-breed pork and seasoned with fennel seeds, garlic, salt and pepper, this salami is a must for any appetizer tray and a great choice for salume lovers.