Eating by the BookCookbooks aren't the only books that have information on delicious foods. Read on.. by Dick Adler
What we have here is a regular column on books about food. Not just cookbooks -- although some of the great ones, like my current favorite, Lynne Rossetto Kasper's "THE SPLENDID TABLE: Recipes From Emilia-Romagna," will certainly be mentioned -- but any book which combines eating and reading. I hope to include great food scenes from fiction -- remember the great Sicilian banquet in Richard Condon's "Prizzi's Honor?" -- as well as the best of non-fiction thoughts on food.
Which leads us naturally to Waverly Root. On my last trip to Italy, I saw and ate many fine things. But I was not allowed to sample the famous zampone of Modena because my wife did not think it was worth going five hours out of our way to eat a stuffed pig's foot. Luckily, I have Waverly Root and his wonderful 1971 book "The Food of Italy" to give me solace.
From Root, I learn that Modena was described by a 16th century poet as "the fecund mother of sausages," and that a close examination of an anonymous 16th century painting of the city's Piazza Grande shows two zamponi in the window of a sausage shop. I also learn that mail order zamponi from Modena were eaten by famous Italian exiles Mazzini in London and Rossini in Paris, and that the best pigs for zampone come from hilly areas where they feed on acorns that build up flesh "which is firm but not fibrous, tender but not flabby. The porkers are allowed to forage among the oaks until they reach a weight of some 375 to 450 pounds. They are then fed on grain, especially corn and bran."
Root tells me with increasing succulent glee that "the choicest of the choice pigs are reserved for zampone and their choicest parts only are retained for the zampone stuffing. Ordinarily, this means meat from the shoulder, the neck, the throat, the ears and the shank; but the decisive criterion is that the meat should contain the exact proportion of lean to fat which centuries of experience have shown to be the ideal... Salt, pepper, nutmeg, cinnamon and cloves are crushed together with mortar and pestle, along with other seasonings which each maker has developed for his own product, whose secret he guards jealously. Modena sausage-making is in the hands of family dynasties; the secret seasoning formulas are passed down from father to son, and are divulged to no one outside the family.
"Some of the pig's skin is cut into the finest possible pieces with a half-moon chopper on a board coated with a film of garlic. The skin, the spices and the carefully selected pieces of meat now go into the mortar all together, to be battered and crushed into a fine smooth paste. Getting this just right is Secret No. 1 of perfect zampone-making. It is a long, arduous process; the grinder is exhorted not to tire until he succeeds in producing a mixture which is 'bein tacleint.' This dialect phrase is untranslatable by any single word; it means gelatinous, sticky, light and delicate, all at the same time. It is then ready to be tamped tightly into the pig's feet, previously boned, cleaned, scraped and steamed."
Cooking a zampone, Root continues, is "almost a liturgical rite," requiring a special narrow pot and long, slow simmering to keep the cooking juices as undiluted as possible. When the tines of a fork "penetrate as if into soft butter, without meeting resistance, the zampone is done. It should then be served immediately, as hot as possible, sliced, and accompanied by white beans or lentils and mashed potatoes."
Is reading Waverly Root as much fun as actually eating a zampone in Modena? In the short run, maybe not. But in the long run -- considering not only travel time and companion's discomfort but also cholesterol warnings and the possibility of being there on a bad sausage day -- the answer has to be yes.
Root, who died in 1982, was a foreign correspondent in Europe for 50 years for newspapers, magazines and radio. He wrote other books about food and restaurants, especially in France, but "The Food of Italy" is my favorite because Italy is more fun than France.
With the skill of one of Modena's master sausage makers, Root mixes history, geography, language, art, social custom, myth and music into a fine smooth paste of words. There are no actual recipes, and no restaurant reviews as such. What there is instead is the sense of life being passed at the peak of enjoyment, eating and drinking as part of a continuous chain that stretches back to the very first Modena citizen who looked at a pig and asked himself, "What can I do with all those feet?
Eating by the Book
