SEASONAL SLUMBERS

Well, here we are in September, a melancholy month in some ways - not quite the end of summer but not quite autumn either. At least here in Sicily, although the heat persists, the nights are more bearable amd, in a country where the culinary seasons are still respected, autumn fruit is beginning to appear. The fichi d'India (prickly pears) are already here and soon the orange season will be in full swing.

That, however, means goodbye to anguria (watermelon) until next summer but not in my dreams. Bertie-Pierrine, as you see, approves!

 

BEHOLD, THE FERRAGOSTO BUNNIES!

I'm not a "Rise and shine, sing in the morning" type of person. I'm more, "Light, go away!" first thing. Nor do I normally gaze out at the view from my bedroom window at that time of day, as it's all I can do to open the shutters and stumble to the bathroom. But yesterday, perhaps because it was the Ferragosto holday, I did and - still being a bit dopey, you will understand - I thought there were some whacking great bunnies coming to greet me! It was only the shape of the fichi d'India (prickly pear) bush in the field out there, but it cheered me up:

Ferragosto, or the Feast of the Assumption, is when Italy virtually closes down and everybody except grumpy old me heads to the sea. For the past two years, during which we have been in and out of various lockdowns, my local bar closed only for the 15th, not for a week, as before, presumably to try and recuperate some of the takings lost during the Covid emergency but this time they have closed for the full week again. There is a quiet in the streets reminiscent of the lockdowns but happily that backdrop of fear in the air is absent and today I had an aperitivo and a plate of stuzzichini in another local bar with a friend, which helped dispel the memory of those grim times.

In the absence of a celebratory breakfast out yesterday morning, I made myself a granita all'anguria (watermelon granita) and very refreshing it was, too. I had bought a traditional Sicilian brioche for the occasion and Bertie the dog enjoyed a doggie gelato.

I hope you all had a good Ferragosto and look after those August bunnies if they come to visit!

THE END OF SUMMER

Summer has officially ended and, whilst I am not a beachy person and rejoice in everything at last being open again, I will be sorry to see the end of the gelato season and of its companions cremolate and granite.

Left to right:  granita di mandarino; cremolata di gelsi (mulberry); granita di pesche e fichi d'India
(peaches and prickly pear, the latter being a late summer addition to the granita repertoire)

My favourite peaches,  pesche tabbacchierie, get larger and less sweet as August ends but then these delights appear:

Centre:  frutta di Martorana
Right: "cakes" of cotognata (quince paste)

Finally, I cannot let the summer end without sharing this with you:  the other day, a Sicilian friend said he had spotted a British man coming out of the B&B opposite his house. I asked how he had known the man was British.

"Because he was wearing sandals and socks", came the reply.

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GOLDEN AUTUMN

Suddenly, in Sicily, the roadside lorries teem with different kinds of fruit, most of which you can purchase by the crate. The little Etna apples, though, are not quite as abundant outside their local area but when you find them, you have a treasure.  Chestnuts are swept from outdoor tables into large bags and, if you buy fichi d'India [prickly pears] from the greengrocer or the supermarket, they will usually have had most of their thorns removed. Otherwise, handle with extreme care!

TRAVELS WITH MY SISTER

I'm going to tell you the story of my reunion with my birth sister, Jill, little by little in several posts but first I want to share with you some of the things we did together over the past seven days.

We spent time at the Marina di Modica

and, as you see, I've got me a lovely brother-in-law as well!

We went for an evening walk in Ragusa Ibla with friends,

sat in the park

and ate ice cream in a crepe!

I must say, as we walked through the narrow, softly-lit streets, I felt completely surrounded by love and I hadn't felt like that for a long time.

On Sunday we took a guided tour around Catania. There is always something new to learn from a good guide and the city looked particularly elegant in the October sunshine:

Later, it was on to Militello in Val di Catania for the Sagra della Mostarda e del Fico d'India or Mostarda [made with prickly pears] and Prickly Pear Festival, where the highlight of the afternoon was the parade of Sicilian carts:

This last horse danced to the traditional music and was definitely the star of the show!

When I visited Militello for the same festival four years ago, I never imagined I'd be back there with my sister!

Then suddenly it was Wednesday, Jill and Paul's last full day in Sicily. We decided to spend most of it in Siracusa, for how could I let them go without taking them first to the magnificent Greek amphitheatre there?

The Roman Amphitheatre, Siracusa:

Sisters:

The Greek Amphitheatre, Siracusa:

The Ear of Dionysus, Siracusa:

We had fun calling to each other in the echoing cave where the tyrant Dionysus reportedly imprisoned dissidents and eavesdropped on them. 

Jill and Paul are safely home now and they have promised to come back to Sicily soon. I hope so because I'm already missing my wonderful, newfound sister!

SEPTEMBER SALAD

The end of summer means the disappearance of these

but heralds the appearance of these

and calls for a special salad, don't you think? Here's the one I came up with last week:

September salad

You need one skinless, boneless chicken breast if you are in Italy and two if you are in the UK, because here the breasts are sold as a pair and in the UK singly. Ask the butcher to cut it or them into escalopes and pound them.  Marinate the escalopes in 2 tablesp balsamic vinegar with 1 teasp sumac for at least two hours [No, I've never found sumac here - friends send it from the UK.] 

Now you need to deal with 4 prickly pears: to peel one, lay it on its side on a board, plunge a fork into it to hold it steady, then make a slit on one side and start peeling the skin off with the knife. Don't touch the skin as, even if the thorns have been removed prior to sale, you can still get some nasty scratches. Then cut the fruit crossways into slices. Grill the slices in 1 tablesp oil on a griddle pan. They won't go very brown or show griddle marks but the grilling will make the flavour quite interesting. Drain the slices on kitchen paper.

Next, cut 1 large red pepper and 1 large yellow pepper into strips, not very thinly, and grill these in the griddle pan in 2 tablesp. oil.  Drain.

Peel and deseed half a large cucumber or a whole small one and chop it. Put the pieces on a plate, sprinkle with fine seasalt and leave for half an hour or so. Then rinse and drain.

Drain the chicken escalopes and discard the marinade. Pat the escalopes as dry as you can with kitchen paper. Now grill them in 2 tablesp oil in all in a griddle pan. Drain on kitchen paper and leave to cool.

When the chicken is cool enough to handle, cut the escalopes into bite-sized pieces with a kitchen scissors. Put the pieces in a large salad bowl and leave in the fridge.

Make a dressing with 6 tablesp olive oil, 1 tablesp honey, 1 teasp sumac, fine seasalt and black pepper to taste. Mix it all well with a fork and refrigerate this, too.

When you are nearly ready to serve the salad, add  some washed salad leaves to the bowl: I used a whole small radicchio and half an iceberg lettuce, but you can use what leaves you like.  Then add the peppers, prickly pears and cucumber.  Add a few basil leaves and then toss it all in the dressing and serve. 

Serves 4.

POLLO AI FICHI D'INDIA

It's that time of year again and here come the prickly pears!  In their honour, I invented this recipe at the weekend. The idea of using fruit in a savoury dish has shocked some of my Italian friends again but the recipe worked really well. It's not for those of you who are sensitive to seeds, though.

Pollo ai fichi d'India - Chicken with prickly pears

If you're in Italy, ask your butcher to cut half a chicken breast a fettine. If you're in the UK, ask him to slice a boned, skinless chicken breast thinly. 

Peel three prickly pears in the way that a Sicilian taught me:  put the fruit on a plate or board and hold it steady on its side with a fork. Top and tail it. Still holding it steady with the fork, cut a lengthwise slit in the skin with a knife and then cut round the fruit.  You have to be careful not to touch the skins with your hands as you can still get a nasty prickle even if you buy the fruit dethorned.  Keep holding it with the fork to slice it.

Heat 4 tablesp olive oil in a wide pan and brown the chicken fillet slices lightly. Add 350 gr button mushrooms or sliced mushrooms and 250 ml white wine.  Stir everything and then add the drained contents of a 190 gr jar of small artichokes in oil. Set aside three or four of your tidiest prickly pear slices for a garnish later and add the rest of the slices to the pan. Season the mixture with seasalt to taste and a few twists from a peppermill of mixed peppercorns. Cover the pan and cook for about 50 mins over a low heat.

Just before the end of cooking, take the pan off the heat and add 200 ml panna di cucina [Italian cooking cream, which is thinner than British single cream].  Stir it in well and put the pan back on the heat for a couple of minutes, still stirring.

Garnish the dish with the reserved prickly pear slices.

Buon appetito.

A DIFFERENT KIND OF MOSTARDA

The full name of the "Prickly Pear Festival" at Militello in Val di Catania is the Sagra della Mostarda e del Fico d'India and before arriving there on Sunday I wondered what type of mostarda would be celebrated. I've written before on this blog about the confusion surrounding the term and I repeat the  information here:

To most Sicilians, the term "mostarda" means a solid preserve made from grape must and wood ashes. Yes, ashes! [Don’t worry - they are filtered out.]  Other ingredients such as almonds may be added. I find the texture too leathery but there is also a lighter, fresh version which is rarely made now. A friend's mother-in-law does make it and I have tasted it at her home. 

The reason that the solid preserve shares the name "mostarda" with the mustard-based fruit relishes of northern Italy is that the Romans used to mix mustard seeds with verjuice instead of vinegar and in the Middle Ages, for a time, the vinegar was replaced by must, so some etymological confusion arose. 

At Militello on Sunday the solid, black preserve was much in evidence but I did find one street vendor who had made a fresh mostarda similar to the kind made by my friend's relative.  The main ingredient? Prickly pears! 

The taste?  Err..... interesting.

OTTOBRATA

The Ottobrata festival at Zafferana Etnea takes place on every Sunday during October and is a showcase for food products from the Etna area, local crafts, art and street performers. My friend Carol King and I set out for Zafferana last Sunday and I'm jolly glad we did!

The town perches below smoky old Etna

and we were just in time to see a rainbow in the fountain [well-spotted by Carol]:

There is a model of the crater in the square:

There were stalls as far as the eye could see

 but you still got an idea of what a peaceful place this must be for most of the year:

OK, so Carol [seated left, in headscarf] and I played at being tourists for this shot.  I think I should wear a hat like this every day!

There were tastes of everything on offer and there were so many varieties of honey that I couldn't decide where to begin:

There was no shortage of cheese either!

Then it was on to one of my favourite towns, Militello in Val di Catania, where the Festa della Mostarda e del Fico d'India [prickly pear]  was in full swing.  Luck was with us again as the parade of traditional Sicilian carts began a few minutes after we arrived:

The horses looked so proud of their finery and happy, like us, to be out in the sunshine:

I wonder if I could get some plumes like this to add to my flat cap?

Now I'll let you enjoy more of the colourful parade: 

I was too tired to cook when I got home but some of this "black" bread from Castelvetrano [Trapani] tasted delicious spread with some olive and aubergine pâté that I'd bought. The bread is made with timilia or tumminia wheat, which is becoming rarer.

And this balsamic honey - yes, I did finally choose one - made an interesting salad dressing:

Congratulations to the good folk of Zafferana Etnea and Militello in Val di Catania on their fine festivals.