(Apologies for the absence of photos, having a few technical problems. Just imagine my happy face with a big bowl of pasta and glass of red wine and you've pretty much got it).
On our last night in India, rather than be all reflective and stuff about our trip, I flicked through the Rome section of our guide book and did a little research on Roman delicacies. Sadly it would appear that things have moved on since Ceasar and co dined on dormouse stuffed with pork and rolled in poppy seeds. To my utter joy, I discovered a dish that combined tomato, pasta and that classic ingredient, pig cheeks. I immediately turned to Finn. 'WE CAN EAT PIIIIIG CHEEEEKS IN ROME!!! I LITERALLY CANNOT WAIT!!!'. I exclaimed in capital letters and lots of exclamation marks for, after all, I was exclaiming. He was somewhat surprised by my enthusiasm (we have a vague memory of me being vegetarian once) but I explained that for 20 whole frickin weeks of the year we have been denied pork due to the whims and fancies of various religions . Ten weeks of those were about to end and if there's one part of the pig I'd choose to eat after this porky drought, it'd be the fleshy cheek. In his sage-like way (no, no, not annoying at all), Finn calmly suggested I might be envisaging a rosy-cheeked cartoon pig (with a cartoon apple in its mouth). And, as usual, he was right. But I was still excited. Pig cheeks!
So we arrive in Rome and I cannot tell you how excited I am to be back in Europe mainly because a)the weather is like nowhere else, b) there are fewer things trying to bite me and c) no one stares at us which means I can wear clothes that suit the weather (but I'm still pretty modestly dressed compared to these European hussies! Ha ha!). Anyway. It is our second visit to Rome and we immediately know we've made the right decision to come back as we wander past shop windows stacked with fat sandwiches bursting with gloriousnessness. On our way to the hotel, I go into the train station to find an ATM and come out with a hot baguette oozing greasy slices of dark ham. We are however on a budget. And in that respect we are in the worst place in the world. Everywhere you turn there is something tempting you, dammit. At least, I think, I'm not on a diet. Thanks to ten weeks in India, I need to put some weight on.
So being on a budget, we have to limit ourselves to the odd restaurant visit. I find one with the pig cheeks dish (bucatini all'amatriciana) and we head there to find queues of locals. We get a table and experience the no-nonsense approach to dining that I've missed. What do you want to drink? What do you want to eat - pasta or soup? Within 2 minutes we have half a carafe of full-bodied red wine, within 10 minutes two bowls of pasta arrive. 'Ten minutes!' I hear you say. 'that's nothing! That's McDonald's speed!'. Well, what do you expect when you only have 5 options of pasta sauces, each comprising of a maximum 5 ingredients and the pasta is as al-dente as a tough old boot (though a classy one and one that you'd really like to just, you know, have a gnaw on because it looks soooo lovely)? And you can stop imagining a big flappy pig cheek. I counted no more than 4 slivers of fatty cheek and do you know what? That's all that was needed. Why oh why in the UK we insist on drowning food in meat is anyone's guess. Less is more! And the Italians know this and that's why the food in this country tastes so delicious and healthy. Shockingly, on our table there was no salt nor pepper and parmesan was not an option, it was a NECESSITY. The dish arrived simply smothered in the stuff. Of course it helps that the tomatoes and onions used in the sauce are local and have not travelled an obscene and totally unnecessary distance. And yes, the fact the pig clearly had an enjoyable life rolling around in meadows, taking long afternoon baths and rollerblading or whatever, makes a massive difference. But I can (and do) grow good tomatoes in my kitchen, I'm sure I can grow an onion and I have an amazing butcher round the corner which is admittedly so expensive, once a month we treat ourselves to 4 rashers of bacon. But the point is I don't need to use a lot of meat! It's so very obvious and wonderfully simple that I feel like an imbecile. LESS IS MORE! Hooray! (Though perhaps different rules apply here when it comes to fake tan. Just an observation).
On our last night in India, rather than be all reflective and stuff about our trip, I flicked through the Rome section of our guide book and did a little research on Roman delicacies. Sadly it would appear that things have moved on since Ceasar and co dined on dormouse stuffed with pork and rolled in poppy seeds. To my utter joy, I discovered a dish that combined tomato, pasta and that classic ingredient, pig cheeks. I immediately turned to Finn. 'WE CAN EAT PIIIIIG CHEEEEKS IN ROME!!! I LITERALLY CANNOT WAIT!!!'. I exclaimed in capital letters and lots of exclamation marks for, after all, I was exclaiming. He was somewhat surprised by my enthusiasm (we have a vague memory of me being vegetarian once) but I explained that for 20 whole frickin weeks of the year we have been denied pork due to the whims and fancies of various religions . Ten weeks of those were about to end and if there's one part of the pig I'd choose to eat after this porky drought, it'd be the fleshy cheek. In his sage-like way (no, no, not annoying at all), Finn calmly suggested I might be envisaging a rosy-cheeked cartoon pig (with a cartoon apple in its mouth). And, as usual, he was right. But I was still excited. Pig cheeks!
So we arrive in Rome and I cannot tell you how excited I am to be back in Europe mainly because a)the weather is like nowhere else, b) there are fewer things trying to bite me and c) no one stares at us which means I can wear clothes that suit the weather (but I'm still pretty modestly dressed compared to these European hussies! Ha ha!). Anyway. It is our second visit to Rome and we immediately know we've made the right decision to come back as we wander past shop windows stacked with fat sandwiches bursting with gloriousnessness. On our way to the hotel, I go into the train station to find an ATM and come out with a hot baguette oozing greasy slices of dark ham. We are however on a budget. And in that respect we are in the worst place in the world. Everywhere you turn there is something tempting you, dammit. At least, I think, I'm not on a diet. Thanks to ten weeks in India, I need to put some weight on.
So being on a budget, we have to limit ourselves to the odd restaurant visit. I find one with the pig cheeks dish (bucatini all'amatriciana) and we head there to find queues of locals. We get a table and experience the no-nonsense approach to dining that I've missed. What do you want to drink? What do you want to eat - pasta or soup? Within 2 minutes we have half a carafe of full-bodied red wine, within 10 minutes two bowls of pasta arrive. 'Ten minutes!' I hear you say. 'that's nothing! That's McDonald's speed!'. Well, what do you expect when you only have 5 options of pasta sauces, each comprising of a maximum 5 ingredients and the pasta is as al-dente as a tough old boot (though a classy one and one that you'd really like to just, you know, have a gnaw on because it looks soooo lovely)? And you can stop imagining a big flappy pig cheek. I counted no more than 4 slivers of fatty cheek and do you know what? That's all that was needed. Why oh why in the UK we insist on drowning food in meat is anyone's guess. Less is more! And the Italians know this and that's why the food in this country tastes so delicious and healthy. Shockingly, on our table there was no salt nor pepper and parmesan was not an option, it was a NECESSITY. The dish arrived simply smothered in the stuff. Of course it helps that the tomatoes and onions used in the sauce are local and have not travelled an obscene and totally unnecessary distance. And yes, the fact the pig clearly had an enjoyable life rolling around in meadows, taking long afternoon baths and rollerblading or whatever, makes a massive difference. But I can (and do) grow good tomatoes in my kitchen, I'm sure I can grow an onion and I have an amazing butcher round the corner which is admittedly so expensive, once a month we treat ourselves to 4 rashers of bacon. But the point is I don't need to use a lot of meat! It's so very obvious and wonderfully simple that I feel like an imbecile. LESS IS MORE! Hooray! (Though perhaps different rules apply here when it comes to fake tan. Just an observation).
