A HAPPY NEW YEAR (I THINK)

In Catania at the end of November

Every now and then, in this seemingly never-ending Covid situation, I get stopped in my tracks with fear and that is what happened in December when Omicron blared out its presence to the world. We were so near, we thought, so very near, to having a "normal" Christmas and to living in a way that resembled pre-Covid times. But it was not to be and, although triple-vaccinated, I'm still scared, especially with positive test results rising exponentially in Sicily and elsewhere in Italy - 947 in my town of 53,000 inhabitants today. Although we are not locked down or restricted as we were a year ago, masks are compulsory outside as well as inside again, we are supposed to be social distancing wherever possible, unnecessary mixing is discouraged and school reopening has been postponed from today until at least Thursday. It is not yet known whether teaching will be via distance learning or on school premises. In addition to these measures, you will have read about the Italian government's decision to bring in what amounts to compulsory vaccinations for the over 50s. We watch, we try to be careful and we hope, like the rest of the world.

At Christmas, I am glad to say, we were not required to fill in the hated self-certification documents in order to go anywhere at all or prevented from seeing friends and family and I spent a lovely Christmas Day with three friends who love books and dogs. Yes, I did consider staying at home but we are all vaccinated and at nearly 72 and with the virus raging, I wondered, and still wonder, if I will see another Christmas and whether we will at some point be barred from even small household mixing again, although the Italian government is doing everything it can to avoid having to take such a measure and Prime Minister Draghi has assured the nation this evening that he is not intending to take the country into lockdowns again. 

Having decided to accept the kind invitation, however, things did not exactly go to plan in the run-up and on Christmas Eve I nearly went into full hysterical mode as I was in the middle of making a cake to take to my friends' house when a domestic disaster struck. The recipe was for the wonderful Dame Mary Berry's Chocolate Cappuccino Tart, a cake I have made many times before and which has always been a success here. (I don't use instant coffee granules, though, because I don't buy them; I make myself an espresso and use a teaspoon of it in the cake and I use mascarpone in the filling.) If you look at the recipe, you will see that you have to make the base first, then refrigerate it while you make the filling. Well, I had just popped the base in the fridge and had the chocolate and coffee in a bowl ready to put over the saucepan of simmering water when I happened to look at the floor and beheld disaster in the form of a flood. The water, I ascertained, was coming from under the sink and at 1pm on Christmas Eve I estimated my chances of finding a plumber willing to come out as nil. While controlling my breathing, I did summon enough common sense to switch the hob off and then I went downstairs to warn the neighbour in the flat below. Luckily - phew! - her son was there and informed me that he was a plumber and would come. (I'd had no idea, either that he was home from the North or that he was a plumber.)  He fixed it but it took a while, not least because we had to wait a few hours for the shops to reopen for parts. Thank you, thank you, whoever is up there and to the kind man who happened to be down there!

I finished making the cake at midnight but didn't think the filling looked as smooth or as inviting as it had before (probably because I'd had to put that in the fridge too - I didn't have enough chocolate left to start again) but decided there was nothing I could do till it was set and I could inspect it in daylight. In the morning I came to the same conclusion though, and wondered whether to give up on it and just take some shortbread biscuits I had bought a couple of weeks before in Catania for Burns Night (the first time I had been there or anywhere outside Modica since my birthday in February 2020 - no need to tell you why!) I discussed it on the phone with a friend and his opinion was "cake, cake, every time" but I decided I had to check the taste. If it was OK, I would take the cake and just explain why a small slice was missing and that is what I did, but not before decorating it with some grated chocolate. Then later, at my friends' house, I added some candied orange peel to the top. Now, chef Carlo Cracco of Masterchef Italia fame says you should never garnish a dish with an ingredient it doesn't contain and I'm sorry, chef, but what else could I do? My friends thought it was all rather comical, by the way - which they wouldn't have if they'd seen the kitchen floor - and they enjoyed the cake.

On New Year's Eve I did stay at home, as I have for many years, because I like being at home with Bertie and because I would not risk leaving her on a night when there will almost certainly be fireworks outside. There were not many but when Italians decide they are going to have them they do not hold back! It didn't go on for long after midnight, to be fair, and there was only one episode that I heard of fireworks being let off in the street earlier. On New Year's Eve in Italy you are supposed to eat lentils, which it is believed will bring you money and my philosophy is why take chances and not do it? For years, to honour the Italian tradition while in Britain, I made a lamb dish with lentils, then lentil loaf, and here I have made Mary Berry's Cottage Pie with Lentils  (minus the swede, which I dislike and can't get here anyway and I only ever mash potatoes with butter) and lately Nigella's Bulgur Wheat and Lentil Salad, all of which I can recommend. But this time I wanted to make something different, so I prepared Claudia Roden's Rice, Lentil and Date Salad from her new book Med and I will certainly be making it again. To go with it, I made chicken escalopes with Parma ham and sage (from a very old Sunday Times cookbook I have) and for dessert a mini-semifreddo with candied orange peel. Well, to be honest I made the full quantity - I just put it in mini-tins! I don't believe in not spoiling yourself on special days just because you are on your own.

Then came Twelfth Night last week and Italy's good witch the befana brought treats to good children (that's all of them on that night!) On Thursday I carried out the sad task of taking the decorations down. Sad, for me at least, because I love that period of sitting at home with a book and reading it by the flickering lights of a Christmas tree and because we do not know what will happen in another year. (And it's just as well we didn't on New Year's Eve 2019-20!)  

Speriamo bene - "Let's hope all will be well", as Italians say and Bertie and I wish you all a belated but very Happy New Year. 

Buon anno a tutti!

DOMENICA MUSICALE - SANREMO 2017

Throughout this post, I shall be posting links rather than videos as there are no official clips, as yet, on youtube, presumably for copyright reasons.

Another Sanremo Festival has come and gone and I've already mentioned one of my favourite moments. Undoubtedly the most touching was the appearance, on the first evening, of representatives of Italy's emergency services and volunteers - including a wonderful labrador -  who had helped in recent disasters such as the 24th August earthquake and the Rigopiano avalanche. The rescuers deservedly got a standing ovation. 

I also enjoyed the appearance of a favourite man of mine, chef and MasterChef Italia judge Carlo Cracco last night. Goodness, Carlo scrubs up well! He had time to tell us that the dish he would choose for presenter Carlo Conti is a Tuscan ribollita and for co-presenter Maria De Filippi spaghetti with tomato sauce, "because it's every Italian's favorite dish." She, lucky girl, got a kiss from chef Carlo, before the other Carlo sent him back to the kitchen.

There couldn't have been a dry eye in the house last night when Zucchero sang a duet with a virtual Luciano Pavarotti and the press dubbed this performance "the real winner."  You can see this here from 01.38.00 mins.

I thought the best song in the whole competition was this one, which was knocked out on the fourth evening and I also liked this and this, both of which made it to the final evening. The winning song was this, ably performed by Francesco Gabbani and a monkey and I can say for it that it certainly cheered everybody up!

WHEN A SHIRE IS NOT A SHIRE

Many of you will know that I am a great fan of MasterChef Italia, which has recently made a welcome return for its sixth season on Italian TV.  I am also an admirer of Joe Bastianich, whose biography I reviewed here and I did laugh at the pronunciation lesson that Joe gave an unfortunate contestant last night. You can see the video clip here.

However, it has to be said that Joe is not teaching British English! For those of you who are confused, the term shire means county and is usually used as a suffix, as in Gloucestershire or Yorkshire. In this case, the i is pronounced like the er in her in British English. It is pronounced in the "Joe" way in the term the shires, meaning counties. Having to deal with the eccentricities of Modican Englishitis every day, I do empathise with both Joe and the poor contestant!

Worcestershire Sauce, by the way, is a British ingredient which is readily available in Italy and I was glad to see an Italian being adventurous enough to use it.

SICILY SCENE'S REVIEW OF 2015

The year that has just ended began, for me, in the worst possible way, with the loss of my darling Simi on January 8th. In the days and weeks that followed, there were several points when I thought I was going to go as well and of course, these days coming up to the anniversary of her death are also difficult.

But in February my Bertie-Pierrine, whom I love not as a substitute but in her own right, bounded into my life and we saved each other:

Other highlights of the year were visiting my new-found sister in Norwich, seeing Charles Aznavour live in concert in London and revisiting Cardiff, all of which I've written about here .

Elm Hill, Norwich, UK

It was also the year which marked the tenth anniversary of my move to Sicily and you can read about that here.

I was surprised, checking my blog stats tonight, to find that my most read blog post of 2015 was this Sabato Musicale  - I must have a lot of readers who are Annalisa fans and very welcome they are! The second most read post was the one I have linked to above about Simi's death.

My recipe of the year. among those I've created myself, is my Brit-Indian-Sicilian Shepherd's Pie:

I don't have a gadget of the year but I do have new [to me] uses for two old ones!  Both Mary Berry and Nigella suggest peeling ginger with a teaspoon in their latest books and I would like to thank them. It seems so obvious but I had never thought of it. Nigella recommends a microplane grater for grating citrus zest into dishes. I've had one for years but never realised how easy that would be!

My book of the year in English is The Dust That Falls from Dreams by Louis de Bernières and my book of the year in Italian is Giuseppino by Joe Bastianich.

Instead of the Italian logic prize this time, I am awarding an Italian scandal of scandals prize and it goes to the TV advert that horrified the nation in January because - are you ready? - it showed a MasterChef winner adding a stock cube to her caponata!  I am pleased to be able to report that this ability to be more scandalised by the use of stock cubes than by all the worst excesses of Italian politicians is alive and well, as a hapless would-be MasterChef Italia 5 contestant found out a week or so ago.  "Ci hai messo del dado?"- "You put a stock cube in?!" exclaimed a horrified Joe Bastianich and the ice-cold eyes of Chef Carlo Cracco turned icier than ever.

It was yet another sad year for migrants and tragedies have continued to happen, not only in the Mediterranean but on the land routes too. Italy's European partners continue to fail her and, consequently, all who are in need of a safe haven. You can find links to all my migration posts here.

My hopes for 2016 are a safe corridor for migrants and an end to migration tragedies. As always, I hope for peace and health for those I love and for all of you, wherever you are.

Happy New Year and thank you for reading Sicily Scene!

Buon anno e grazie di aver letto la Sicily Scene!

BOOK REVIEW - GIUSEPPINO

Finding myself with time on my hands in Siracusa a few weeks ago, I naturally entered a bookshop but, unusually, nothing cried "Read me!" that day - until I found, almost hidden behind larger volumes in the cookery section, Giuseppino, a memoir by restaurateur, winemaker and MasterChef judge Joe Bastianich.

To be honest - and sorry, Joe - I thought it would just about do to help me wile away the time until my bus was due to leave. However, it turned out to be one of the most interesting books I have ever read.

Dedicated to Joe's grandmother, the book tells the story of his grandparents and parents in Istria and, from 1958, in the United States, to which they had emigrated [Istria having become part of Yugoslavia after the Second World War].  I found this fascinating as I had first read of Joe's mother, Lidia Bastianich, in Bob Spitz's biography of Julia Child, who thought highly of her. Recognising the surname Bastianich, I had looked her up and discovered that she was indeed Joe's mother and a chef and restaurateur herself. In Joe's book we learn just how hard she worked. Lidia Bastianich is now well known in Italy as a judge on Junior MasterChef Italia.

The book begins with the stunning statement from Joe that he used to hate Italy and you have to read on! Like all children, Joe just wanted to fit in and be like everyone else but the cooking smells in his house were different, as were the contents of his lunchbox, his grandmother leaned out of the window and shouted "Giuseppino!" as she saw him coming home and she didn't shave under her armpits. He always knew how much this well-educated, strong and determined woman loved him, though.

Joe rises to become a successful Wall Street bond trader but realises that he envies the art of the barman in his mother's restaurant and finally decides that it is the world of food and wine that is calling him.  

Travelling to Italy to learn everything he could about wine, he felt he was making his grandparents' and mother's journey in reverse and we follow him as he comes to terms with the country and his place within it. He makes thought-provoking observations on the differences between the restaurant and winemaking businesses in the two countries and his love for Italy is sealed when he opens his beloved Orsone restaurant and vineyard.

Joe Bastianich has the same issues with Italy as most expats do - bureaucracy, the fact that all Italians do the same thing at the same time [with repercussions for business] and breakfast - or the lack of it. Having convinced the staff in several Milanese bars to make him toast in the morning, he says his next ambition is to get them to serve him a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich in New York deli style. Good luck with that, Joe!

The MasterChef story is here too, with some intriguing detail from behind the scenes, so anyone who is a fan of the Italian version will enjoy this book.  And, with refreshing honesty, Joe tells us that he actually likes being famous. 

The book also has some witty drawings and a glossary of Joe-style Italian. It's an interesting and relaxing read and I now can't wait for the next MasterChef Italia series to start.  Keep hurling the bad dishes across the studio, Joe!

NOT THE MASTERCHEF REPORT

Tonight I was hoping to be able to bring you my insights into this year's MasterChef Italia, which held its final last night, but unfortunately my Sky signal chose 9 pm to give up the ghost in the face of a few gusts of wind. [This part of Sicily got the tail end of the heavy winds which had mercilessly lashed mainland Italy throughout Wednesday and Thursday, causing considerable damage and three deaths.]  I'd been looking forward to the programme all day so, needless to say, I was not pleased!

I did know who the winner would be, as much to the judges' chagrin, the contest result had been leaked on Tuesday's Striscia La Notizia programme, and even if I hadn't, I could have worked out what was happening from social media.  However, I did want to see what tasks were set for the three finalists, generally enjoy the drama and feast my eyes once more on chef Carlo Cracco. The Striscia spoiler caused a twitter storm, as you may imagine, and the programme also accused one of the finalists of working in a professional kitchen before becoming a contestant.  If this is true, it of course breaks the MasterChef rules. Both the contestant and the restaurant concerned deny that he has worked there and the argument is ongoing.

Congratulations to worthy winner Stefano Callegaro and I would like to express the hope that when his recipe book is published, it will actually contain some recipes, unlike last year's effort, which was supposed to give readers ideas rather than recipes. Such a book is fine by me as long as it is not marketed as a recipe book!

My Sky signal is back on now so, barring a few drops of rain or the odd breeze, I should be able to watch the repeat tomorrow.

TAKE UP YOUR LADLES!

Oh dear, oh dear - the honour of Sicily has been besmirched and this time it is very serious as it involves food:  it is all about a 30-second television advert for a certain brand of stock cube. In the advert, Tiziana Stefanelli, the winner of MasterChef Italia two years ago, is being shown how to make caponata by a Sicilian woman. But when the Sicilian lady committed the cardinal sin of adding a stock cube, twitter and social networks exploded. 

Tiziana Stefanelli has said she is sorry about the strong feelings that have been provoked by the advert but that she thinks Sicilians have other things to worry about. She also said that she is glad that some women have time to make their own stock as she herself often does not. 

Had this happened in a neighbouring country, I would have said, "Aux armes, citoyens" but the best I can suggest is that all good Sicilians take up their ladles.  Ai mestoli, cittadini!

My [stockcubeless] recipe for caponata is here.

"MASTERCHEF" IN TWO COUNTRIES

As regular readers will know, I have enjoyed all three series of MasterChef Italia and have written about the programme several times, the most recent post being this one.

It had been a long time since I'd watched MasterChef UK but this year - thanks to the wonders of technology -  I managed it and what a series it has been! Last night's episode from Barcelona was a joy to watch and tonight's final kept everyone guessing until the very last minute. For those of you who are not in the UK, the deserving winner was this lady.

I must say I found the series very refreshing and calm after the noise and clamour of the Italian version! That is not to imply that the contestants do not work flat out in the UK version, because they do. They just don't let their inner panic show and, although a few tears of relief and exhaustion are not unheard of at the end of particularly challenging rounds, emotion is largely contained.

The British contestants do not argue with the judges, make bitchy or near-racist remarks about each other, clap themselves or sulk and, strangely enough, the programme's twitter commenters do not generally tweet their observations about the contestants' or judges' appearance or clothes [and here I must confess that I couldn't help asking where Spanish guest judge Christian Escribà got his spectacles last night]. It would also be hard to imagine the UK judges throwing dishes they don't like across the studio, à la Joe Bastianich.

From watching the series, I have learnt that in my own country there is a fashion for "deconstructing" classic dishes, a concept which would be incomprehensible to an Italian, to whom a tiramisù, for instance, is a tiramisù and if it is deconstructed, it is something, or several things, else. The British cooks, inspired by some of their country's top chefs, also have a penchant for precariously leaning one piece of food against another, creating dishes with at least seventeen component parts [ or "throwing too much at a plate", as a series catchphrase goes] and for serving  dishes which consist of just one piece of pasta - beautifully filled, admittedly, but horrifying to an Italian cook.

On this programme, no one can pronounce pistacchio, bruschetta or gnocchi and chefs and voice-over lady alike have trouble with the concept that pasta types are plural.

But what has really surprised me is the extent to which the British chefs use their bare hands during the cooking process and in "plating up". [Incidentally , the Italian equivalent of this word, impiattare, has just entered the dictionary.] They even use their hands to press down food that is in a hot pan and there is never a catering glove in sight! Yes, I know you have to use your bare hands sometimes and my own mother used to say, "A good cook uses her hands" but there are some limits! I suppose this has struck me because Italians are very fussy about not touching food with their hands, especially when they're eating in public. If you are served a croissant with jam in a bar, for instance, it won't come on a plate with a knife and a little pot of jam; the jam will have been injected in and the croissant will be part-wrapped in a paper napkin  so that you don't have to touch it with your hands. The only exception to this "no hands" rule is, of course, pizza. 

Anyway, the British series is over for another year and I'm wondering who I can fall in love with now that lovely, knowledgeable chef John Torode and Cockney charmer Gregg Wallace will not be popping up on my screen on Wednesday - Friday nights. During the Italian series, you may remember, I was rather taken with Italy's "sexy chef" Carlo Cracco and I did start watching his Hell's Kitchen Italia series. I stopped, however, after an episode in which two teams of contestants were taken to a farm to "catch" the animals for the food they were to prepare. I do eat meat and that means I have to accept that animals are killed to feed me but I don't have to watch people making a game of it.

I have one suggestion for John, Gregg and the MasterChef UK team - next year, why not bring the contestants to Modica, the chocolate town?

THURSDAY, THURSDAY

I've mentioned before that I'm not fond of Thursdays, partly because Thursday is not Friday and partly because it's - well, Thursday. I also think the BBC is to blame for my aversion as, when I was a child, the Watch with Mother schedule ran thus: Mondays - Picture Book, which was sometimes interesting; Tuesdays - Andy Pandy, which at least had the virtue of a loveable teddy bear; Wednesdays - The Flower Pot Men, which only children could understand; Thursdays - Rag, Tag and Bobtail, a hedgehog, a mouse and a rabbit who were as dull as can be; and Friday - The Woodentops, which I loved, mainly because the programme featured "the very biggest spotty dog you ever did see." So there you have it - Rag, Tag and Bobtail spoiled Thursdays for me for evermore and the only duller thing I've seen on television was the much hyped live announcement of the winner of last week's Masterchef Italia final - also on a Thursday.

As regular readers will know, Masterchef Italia has, for three years, been a programme which I have followed avidly and there were some great episodes in this third series. Rachida from Morocco and lovely 67-year-old Alberto from Cremona were eliminated a couple of weeks ago and the semi-finalists were the worthy and non-temperamental Enrica, Almo of the glowing shoes - I have several times had to put my sunglasses on when there have been full-length shots of Almo - and Federico, an analytical and serious torinese doctor, who deservedly won the title.

It has been fun, too, watching the three judges - Carlo Cracco the "sexy chef" [who actually writes extremely good cookbooks], Bruno Barbieri, whose jackets and glasses stunned viewers week after week, and the entertaining and unpredictable Joe Bastianich, whose best trick was to throw dishes he disapproved of across the studio. Fun, that is, until the final went live when, awaiting Almo and Federico in a packed studio, the three were obviously at a loss as to how to fill the agonisingly long minutes. As one tweeter pointed out, they are, after all, chefs rather than professional anchormen and it was all a bit much for them. Even when the two finalists arrived, Cracco played the suspense for all it was worth and, along with several million others, I had started to wonder if he'd ever put us out of our misery by reading out the name. "Please don't go live again!" begged tweeters all over Italy and eventually Sky Uno staff had to admit that the idea had been a mistake.

But now it is all over and here I am on Thursday evening wondering what to do with myself: Junior Masterchef Italia starts tonight and two of the judges are Bruno Barbieri and Joe's mum Lidia Bastianich. [Presumably the producers believe that the audience would not tolerate Joe chucking around dishes created by children.] However, I'm not sure I'm up to the rigours of following such a contest, so roll on, Masterchef Italia 4 and the return of chef Cracco - on Thursdays again if you can manage it, please, Sky.

Masterchef Italia logo - Wikipedia Italia

CORN DOGS AND COLOURS

MasterChef Italia logo - Wikipedia Italia

Thursday night, as I mentioned at New Year, is teley night in this household and I sit for two hours glued to MasterChef Italia with the programme's twitter hashtag column open on my computer so that I can join in the commenting as it progresses. Sometimes the twitter stream goes so fast that you can't read the comments or even "catch" one to read and I follow the programme's facebook updates at the same time but all in all I thoroughly enjoy the multimedia experience.

I also enjoy, as many of you will remember, the comments of Messrs Joe Bastianich, Bruno Barbieri and Italy's "sexy chef" Carlo Cracco and they have certainly delivered a few surprises during this series! The series has produced some very interesting characters among the contestants, too and the one I like best is a 68-year-old gentleman from Cremona, Alberto. Alberto, it was clear from the first episode, likes the ladies and the ladies, including this one, like him, to the extent that there is quite a battle for his heart taking place on twitter! Another character is a Moroccan lady called Rachida who has not yet managed to get through an episode without crying and who has whole teams of supporters and detractors on social media. I'm not quite sure which camp I belong in yet and change my mind at least twice during each programme but on the whole I think I'm pro-Rachida.

Last night's episode was the best yet, in my opinion and was particularly interesting for me because it again showed how suspicious Italians are of any food that is not their own.  American chef Graham Elliott - whose name was strangely pronounced throughout the programme as "Gram" - showed us the menu he had cooked in his Chicago restaurant for President Obama's birthday in 2010 and then the contestant who had won the previous test had to choose which of these she and her rivals would cook. By this time the twitter stream was full of comments like, "But do they know what they're eating, these Americans?" and when "Gram" showed us his lobster corn dogs, explaining that they're a bit like hot dogs, only fried, it went wild as viewers all over Italy expressed their horror. [Believe me, the discussion was much more animated than on any election night!] I thought the funniest was when someone tweeted a photo of a worried-looking Obama, one hand pressed to his temple, with the comment that the President must have been remembering what he ate at "Gram's" place.  Fortunately, perhaps, the contestants ended up cooking a corn bisque.

Later, the contestants were taken to the Caserma Santa Barbara, home of the Milan Polo Club, for the outdoor, team challenge, in which each team had to cook a set menu for the spectators, who afterwards voted for the better team. Judge Joe Bastianich got the job of interviewing and looking after the spectators and seemed fascinated by the ladies' hats [as well he might have been, for I was fascinated by his!] "Of course, the polo's best at Engadina", one elegant lady told him, provoking a torrent of sarcastic twitter comments. One man, like me, just wanted to know where the hell it was and now a Google search has revealed to me that it's in St Moritz. [A girl needs to know these things.]

Alas, the team led by my beloved Alberto lost this week, so the poor man had to do the "pressure test", which involved cooking a perfect aubergine parmigiana in 15 minutes. When he presented his dish for judgement, he was asked why a man of his age wanted to win MasterChef when he'd already lived his life. Why would he want a life-changing experience now? I don't like the implication, often made in my own country too, that in trying to live life to the full, the old are somehow robbing the young of opportunities, so I was on the edge of my seat as Alberto replied,

"We always have something inside, although we grow old. To continue to express ourselves or to dream. Because dreams are in colour and I want everything to still be in colour, until I die."

Not a dry eye in the house or on the twitter stream and Alberto is through to the next round!

Congratulations, Sky Uno and MasterChef Italia, on a great episode.

SICILY SCENE'S REVIEW OF 2013

As I've mentioned many times, it's been a bad year for me, so let's start with this:

My personal disaster of the year

It's been a year in which I've lived through several personal disasters but when my fridge seemed to give up the ghost recently it was the last straw and the air turned a very deep blue around here! 

But on to something more positive....

My gadget of the year

This contraption for slicing onions is a godsend! 

It comes from Lidl Italia, who, as purveyors of dried cranberries, have disappointed me this year, it must be said.

My books of the year
[not necessarily books published in 2013, but a selection of books that I've read this year]:

At the beginning of the year, I enjoyed the second volume of Cardiff man Ken Follett's Century Trilogy, Winter of the World.  Volume three is due in September and I am looking forward to it. But come on, Ken bach, can't you hurry it up a bit?

I also loved Simon Mawer's The Girl Who Fell from the Sky.

Malala's autobiography, which I read in Italian, was compelling.

For Christmas I received this and Simi and I are enjoying perusing it every evening:

My cookbook of the year is this one, by Italy's "sexy chef" Carlo Cracco - recipes, new ideas, tips and a true masterclass.....

.... which brings me to ....

My TV programmes of the year

Number one has got to be Masterchef Italia and the third episode of the third series goes out on Thursday night. That's two hours of compulsive viewing for me so for the time being I won't be posting here on Thursdays, folks!

Italian TV often gets slated but Rai does turn out some interesting drama series. Of the 2013 offerings, I thought one of the best was Volare - La Grande Storia di Domenico Modugno. Perhaps it's because I can remember how, even in Britain, we all went around humming the song!

I've become addicted to Downton, via a friend who is kind enough to lend me her DVDs. I have watched some episodes in Italian, but let's face it - Maggie Smith's withering lines need to be delivered by Maggie Smith.

Monday nights at 11.30 find me tuned to Sky News UK for the press preview by Kevin Maguire and Andrew Pierce ["Toryboy"]. The banter between these two really cheers me up and I am waiting for them to get their own series.

My recipe of the year

Of the recipes I have invented myself, the winner is this pasta dish.

Post of the year on this blog

The most-read post of 2013 was not about Sicily at all, but about my memories of visiting the Verdi locations in the Emilia-Romagna.

My non-feminist of the year award

The neighbour who obsessively dusts her clothes line was a contender and the young fiancée of a certain Italian politician comes close but I have to hand the award to Miss Miley Cyrus [assuming she can stop twerking for long enough to receive it].

Words I don't want to hear in 2014

Twerking and the name of she who does it; phubbing [ignoring people to look at your mobile phone all the time and I don't want it done to me, either]; decadenza because the expulsion of Mr Berlusconi from the Senate took forever and succeeded in keeping him in the headlines; scontro [clash] because in Italy there's always a scontro somewhere in public life. How about a helpful and peaceful incontro [meeting] instead? Pazienza - a word that should be banned from the Italian language, especially in connection with public transport in Modica! And I don't want to hear any more of Darrell, Pip, Rob or Helen [all on The Archers].

My hopes for 2014

That there be no more tragedies like this.
That there be peace.
My personal hopes are to be held, understood and not judged and to be granted more time with my precious dog, Simi.
May the New Year be kind to all of you and your loved ones, too.

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere,

And gie's a hand o' thine;

And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught

For auld lang syne.

Buon anno a tutti!

LA NOTTE DEL "SEXY CHEF"

The more eagle-eyed among my regular readers may have noticed that lately, I haven't been posting on Thursday evenings, a fact which may be blamed on this television programme and, in particular, on this man:

Chef Carlo Cracco

I wrote about the MasterChef Italia format in 2011 and in this second season the judges are again the gorgeous Mr Cracco, Joe Bastianich, who likes to pronounce the contestants' dishes "merda" and throw them across the studio, and the kindly but no less exacting Bruno Barbieri, who is displaying an eclectic taste in spectacles during this series.

Carlo, of the cold, appraising eyes and rare smile, was as rigorous as ever whilst judging last night's chiacchiere "duel" at the elimination stage of the contest and the episode reminded me that the Carnival season is upon us.  Since I can't have Mr Cracco, I will have to content myself with these chocolate-decorated chiacchiere which were on sale in the supermarket today:

Read how chiacchiere got their name here.

GIULIANA E CARLO

Tonight the new series of Masterchef Italia begins and it's as much fun watching the judges - kindly but honest Bruno Barbieri, the elegant, "cool" Joe Bastianich and "occhi di ghiaccio" [ice-eyes] Carlo Cracco - as the various dishes.

After a long and tiring day, I can't miss a moment of the gorgeous Carlo so I've got a pizza "for one" [by Sicilian standards] again.  This time it's called a Giuliana, containing four of my favourite things:  potatoes, sublimely spicy sausage, rosemary and grana cheese.

And now it's back to Carlo for me so see you all tomorrow night!

A FLAVOUR OF "MASTERCHEF ITALIA"

MasterChef Italia logo - Wikipedia

I have always preferred radio to television but one TV programme I used to enjoy in the UK was MasterChef - until, that is, it went the way of all flesh and got "dumbed down".  But for the past month I've been enjoying the first MasterChef Italia series immensely and thought I would try to give you a flavour of it tonight.

The programme goes out on Wednesday evenings at 21.00 and finishes at approximately 23.00.  Like most Italian TV series, its episodes are long and rarely finish on schedule, partly because the commercial breaks  are also longer than they would be in the UK.  

As you would expect, the Italians have brought their own unique touches to the show, making it a cookery programme with a touch of the human weakness that is often present in series like Big Brother [still going strong in Italy] or The Weakest Link.   Contestants are encouraged to talk about each other throughout the show and, although they are usually mutually supportive, cracks in their relationships become evident as the cookery challenges get harder and "elimination time" draws nearer, for two contestants are eliminated each week.

Let me talk you through the show's stages:  all the hopeful cooks begin the programme in one enormous kitchen, where their first challenge is to produce a dish from up to ten ingredients in identical "mistery boxes". [That is not a typo.]  At the end of the allotted time, they submit their dishes to the harsh judgement of chefs Bruno Barbiere and Carlo Cracco who are joined by restaurateur Joe Bastianich.  [If you read Italian, you can find out more about the judges here.]

The person who, in the judges' opinion, has produced the best "mistery box" dish is allowed to choose the type of ingredients to be used for the next task, the "invention test":  in tonight's programme, for example, the contestants had to produce, in one hour and using a selection of mountain herbs and root vegetables plus a limited number of ingredients of their choice, a dish that would evoke the flavours of the Italian mountains.

Image:  Wikipedia

And then things get tense:  at the end of this hour, the cooks again submit their dishes for judgement and the chefs choose not only the best, but the three worst dishes prepared.  They do not mince their words, either and among tonight's comments were, "Not even the dog would eat that" and, "This dish is a disaster".  The three cooks destined to be shamed stand at the front of the kitchen, shed tears and sweat blood until finally judge Carlo Cracco reveals the name of the cook who is eliminated.  That contestant then has to take off his or her MasterChef apron and leave the kitchen.   At this point there are hugs and commiserations, grown men cry openly in each others' arms and there are a few recriminations via interview.

For the next, and most interesting, stage of the programme, the remaining contestants board a coach and head for an unknown destination where they will, in two teams, cook for an important "real" occasion and the diners will decide on the winning team.  In tonight's programme the contestants had to cook a gala dinner at the Australian Embassy in Rome using Australian ingredients and recipes - all in only four hours.  The cooking of a perfect Pavlova was the undoing of both teams but the other dishes were mostly successful and the diners had a difficult job in choosing the winners.  The Ambassador's wife, I thought, was splendid and proved herself a better diplomat than her husband in her comments on the dishes.  [Will someone send that woman to sort out the Middle East, please?]

Finally, the losing team has to take a "pressure test" and, on the result of this, one more person will be eliminated.  Last week they had to cook perfect mashed potato - which, as every cook knows, should be simple but can be temperamental - and I watched with great empathy as one poor woman resorted to mashing the stubborn vegetables with her hands. [Presumably the judges would curl up and die if the contestants did as I do and used a hand mixer.]  Tonight only two team members had to take the test and there was much bad feeling and bleeped-out swearing as their "captain" chose the unlucky pair.  The challenge was to cook fillet steak in three ways - rare, medium and well done ["well done" not meaning to an Italian what it would to a Brit or an American] and at the end there was a graceful exit as another pinny was dropped onto the counter.

All in all, it is a thoroughly absorbing programme but I have one suggestion, judges:  don't you think it's a bit mean to take the pinny back?

MasterChef Italia Series 1, Episode 4 - 12.10.11