Amazing seafood and fun times in Trieste…

Before leaving for Italy, Tracie P expressed a desire to visit Trieste and so we headed there yesterday for dinner with Giampaolo Venica and wife Chiara and brother and sister prosciutto-makers Andrea and Monica d’Osvaldo to eat at the classic Ristorante al Bagatto.

The food was fantastic, the wine wonderful (Zidarich Vitovska 06 and 08, the 08 the stunner), the laughter and conversation super fun…

Now, THAT’s a fritto misto!

But when an Italian mother calls her son (in this case, Andrea), everything gets put on hold!

My baby loves her some Prosciutto d’Osvaldo!

It was with utterly ineffable joy that I witnessed Tracie P experience her first taste of Prosciutto d’Osvaldo — arguably the top “cult prosciutto” of Friuli — last night at Valter Scarbolo’s Frasca in Pavia di Udine last night.

In Italian, you might say that both of us are prosciutto-dipendenti (prosciutto-addicted) and sadly prosciutto-deprived when at home in the U.S., where good prosciutto often makes the Atlantic-crossing but is then tragically missliced (is that a neologism?).

Conversation on the ideological nature of restaurateurship with Valter was almost as thrilling as his food, like this artichoke soup, made with Apulian artichokes, a touch of creamed potatoes (no cream) to impart the desired texture and consistency, and garnished with a butterflied shrimp from the Adriatic.

Fricorgrasm, anyone? No time today to discuss the nuances of potato and Montasio frico this morning. But let it suffice to say that more than one o my G-d was uttered.

I love the way the Friulians (unlike the Veneti) use onions (in this case and braised chicory in others) to dress their boiled salame with grilled polenta.

There’s so much more to tell but it will just have to wait. Off to Collio this morning and then Trieste. Stay tuned…

Friuli! Day 1: Valter Scarbolo and how he reshaped the way Americans think about Italian cuisine

Today’s post is the first in a series on my recent trip to Friuli with sommelier Bobby Stuckey and chef Lachlan McKinnon-Patterson, owners of Frasca in Boulder.

Above: Valter Scarbolo (pronounced SKAR-boh-loh), right. His family’s landmark restaurant La Frasca in the province of Udine (Friuli) helped to create a new paradigm for Italian food in the U.S. That’s Shelley Lindgren of A16 (San Francisco) and Joe Campanale of Dell’Anima (New York) in the foreground. When Valter speaks, North American restaurateurs listen intently.

Few if any Italian food and wine insiders, I’m sure, would disagree with me: the first place you need to eat when you visit Friuli for food and wine tourism is Valter Scarbolo’s La Frasca in Lauzacco (not far from Udine).

When I arrived in Friuli in mid-September, the first place my good friend Wayne took me to eat was Valter’s place. (Here’s the post I did the next day on our amazing meal.)

Above: Among other key elements to contemporary Italian cuisine in the U.S., Valter has introduced a generation of North American restaurateurs to the concept of “cult prosciutto,” in this case Prosciutto d’Osvaldo.

A note on the term frascafrasca (Italian) or frasčhe (Friulian) means simply branch. Linguistically and culinarily, it represents a wonderful instance of metonymy (“the action of substituting for a word or phrase denoting an object, action, institution, etc., a word or phrase denoting a property or something associated with it,” OED online edition). In Friuli, a frasca was a roadside stand where producers of cured meats, cheeses, and wines would set up shop to sell their wares. Some believe a branch was placed by the side of the road to draw attention to the stand, while others believe that the vendors would display their products under the shade of a branch. Of course, where wine, prosciutto, and cheese are sold, customers will want to taste with the producer. Ultimately, the term frasca began to denote (as a metonym) a place where patrons gathered to eat (there is a kinship here with the word trattoria). Today, the term is regularly used to denote a restaurant, although Valter’s venue, “La Frasca,” remains the frasca by antonomasia.

Above: One of the amazing dishes that didn’t make it into my post about dinner with Valter Scarbolo was this orzotto, a “risotto” made with barley instead of rice, chanterelle mushrooms and squab ragù.

We all (or at least some of us) remember the “Northern Italian Cuisine” revolution of the 1980s, when restaurants in New York, Los Angeles, and San Francisco seemed determined to expunge “Southern Italian Cuisine” from their menus. In fact, it would more properly be called “pseudo-Northern Italian Cuisine” because the true regional Italian cuisine shift toward the north didn’t take shape until the Bastianich-Batali powerhouse Babbo opened in New York City in the late 1990s.

With the rise of the Bastianich empire in the late 1990s, a new generation of high-end American diners were introduced to Friulian cuisine, first through the Istrian clan’s Frico bar in Manhattan, which I believe opened in 1996 and closed in 2007 (see Eric the Red’s 1996 review here), and then later through Frasca in Boulder, which was opened by Bobby and Lachlan in 2004 (IMHO, one of the top-five Italian restaurants in the U.S. today).

I can tell you from personal experience that both sets of restaurateurs view Valter and his restaurant (which can trace its origins back to the 1960s) as a paradigm for Italian cuisine and hospitality.

Above: The Tagliolini “San Daniele,” actually made at Valter’s using prosciutto by D’Osvaldo, which is made in Cormons, not San Daniele.

The Friulians are an industrious people. Valter is the apotheosis of that spirit and his bright personality and spirtuality express themselves in the metrics of his family’s wines, his superb cuisine, and his warm hospitality. Anyone who knows the man personally, I’m sure, would share my impression.

To know Valter is to know true Friulian gastronomy and I consider myself lucky to know both.

There are many places I’ll be taking Tracie P to dine when we go to Friuli for our vacation in February. But the first will be Valter’s Frasca.

Next up: Ronco del Gnemiz, one of my favorite Friulian wineries…

Prosciutto bloggers unite!

Just had to share this link and send some blog love over to the Prosciuttificio D’Osvaldo in Cormòns (Friuli). That’s a photo I snapped of the D’Osvaldo collection of pigs the other day when I visited with the Ponca 10 (below, later that evening on the Gulf of Trieste). I’ll be posting about D’Osvaldo and what I learned, saw, and tasted there in a few weeks (but first Tuscany and the Veneto!). Stay tuned…

How do you like those jazz hands? ;-)