in Liguria that was first planted by the Romans. Liguria is a beautiful place, high up in the mountains that stretch all the way to Monaco. You drive there from Milano on a grey day and suddenly you are in the sunshine. They say that Caesar’s armies fell in love with Liguria. After thirty-seven years of conquering Turkey and having the Ottoman Empire at their feet, they found this paradise, almost like a spa – where it is never too cold, even in winter, and never too hot, even in summer; where there is hardly any rain, and the Alps protect the countryside from the storms that blow in from France, pushing them on towards the East. So they defeated the resistance of the Ligurians and decided to stay there.
The olives are grown on terraces and the silvery trees are beautifully twisted like no other olive tree, pruned low so they can be harvested easily by hand. Some of the trees are extremely old (they can bear fruit for around six hundred years) but so strong that even when they have been hit by frost and some of the roots have died, you will find four more little trees have sprung up on top. Traditionally, the olives are cured by soaking them for forty days in fresh water, which is changed daily, then putting them into a brine of water and sea salt scented with thyme, rosemary and bay.
This is the way we buy them in the restaurant – in their brine, never ready-marinated. Then, if we want to, we can rinse and dry them, and mix them with olive oil, crushed chillies and garlic. I always buy unpitted olives, because the bitter flavour that is so important is concentrated in the stone.
It is ironic that in the UK olives are so, so popular now – yet many people have never tasted a really good one. Let us not forget that olives are a fruit. If you go shopping for peaches, you are careful to choose ones that are ripe and unblemished. Yet, when people buy olives, they are often content to buy cheap ones that have been pasteurised (which dulls the flavour) and commercially pitted and stuffed – not with fresh anchovies or capers, in the way that people in Italy might do at home, but with strips of synthetically flavoured paste. The artificial flavourings are pushed in by machines that can pit and stuff a thousand olives an hour, no doubt in factories run by the sort of people who get excited about making extra money from packing one less olive into each jar.
The best olives, the kind that you can find in good delicatessens, cost a little more because they have been freshly imported from the region where they were grown, with the stones left in. If they are pitted, this will have been done at the last minute, and if they are marinated and stuffed, it will have been done by hand, with fresh ingredients. Sometimes you can even find a Greek or Italian delicatessen that will sell fresh (uncured) unpitted olives in season, which you can cure yourself. If you come across them, buy a kilo and put them into a sterilised jar with 200g sea salt. Seal it tightly and store for twelve to fifteen days, turning the jar upside down one day and then upright the next, until enough brine is made to completely cover the olives. Then you can leave the jar upright. Beware, though – home-cured olives have a really powerful, pungent bite.
Accompaniments for salumi Zucchine all’olio Grilled courgettes in olive oil
We serve these with culatello (cured meat made from the fillet of the pig’s thigh), but they are also lovely with slices of mature ricotta cheese. To serve 4, you need 2 courgettes, sliced at an angle to give long pieces about 5mm thick. Season them with a little salt, put in a colander and let them drain for 10 minutes, then squeeze lightly to get rid of excess liquid. Brush them with olive oil and griddle or grill them until they just begin to mark on both sides. Remove from the heat, then drizzle with extra-virgin oil and sprinkle with some rosemary. You can do this an hour or so ahead of serving and keep them at room temperature – but not in the fridge because they will dry out and the flavour will be suppressed.
In Italy there is a ritual that goes on throughout the year of picking or buying vegetables, such as peppers, artichokes and mushrooms, when they are at their best, eating some, then preserving the rest for another time. If you have a jar of peppers, a jar of artichokes, and a salami hanging up somewhere cool, you have the makings of a feast.
If you add garlic to any of these vegetables, blanch it briefly first and then make sure that it stays under the oil all the time, to prevent it becoming rancid. Keep the jars in a cool place, where the temperature is consistent, and always spoon out the vegetables with a clean spoon or tongs – never fingers – so you don’t introduce any bacteria into the jar.
Cipolline all’aceto balsamico Baby onions in balsamic vinegar
You can triple or quadruple the quantity given here and store some of these onions for a month in a cool place (the longer you keep them, the better the flavour), but make sure they are always completely covered with the vinegar. Sometimes for this recipe we also use vincotto (see page 48).
Peel 500g pickling onions but keep the root intact. Bring 500ml white wine and 500ml white wine vinegar to the boil in a pan, add the onions and blanch for about 3 minutes, until just soft. Remove the onions from the wine and vinegar, peel off the outer membrane and leave to cool.
Put 25-30g light, soft, brown sugar into a small pan and melt until it darkens slightly. Just before it starts to bubble, put in the onions and toss around to coat.
Add 250ml balsamic vinegar and cook gently for about 2 minutes. Remove from the heat and cool. The onions are ready to eat, but if you want to keep them, put them into sterilised jars and make sure the vinegar completely covers the onions (add a little more if necessary).
You can serve the onions with salumi, such as ham or cured pork, or, if you like, mix them into a salad. Chop the onions, then season a handful of rocket and toss with a little Balsamic vinaigrette (see page 52). Arrange the salad on the centre of a plate with the slices of salumi around the outside.
Prepare about 20 artichokes as for the recipe on page 70, blanching them in a big pan with 400ml each of water, white wine and white wine vinegar and 2 tablespoons of salt. Make the marinade (doubling the quantities) and cook briefly (see page 72). When the artichokes have cooled down in their marinade, spoon them into a sterilised jar, strain the marinade and then pour it over the top, making sure the artichokes are completely covered. Seal the jar tightly. The artichokes will keep in a cool place for 3 months (the longer you keep them, the more vinegary they will taste). Serve them with whatever you like – in salads or with prosciutto or salami.
Halve and deseed 5 red or yellow peppers, then blanch in 500ml each of white wine and white wine vinegar, plus 2 tablespoons of salt, for 3-4 minutes. They should still be quite firm. Take the peppers out (you can cool the cooking liquid and keep it in the fridge for next time). Put them in a bowl, cover with cling film and leave them to steam for about 10 minutes, after which time you should be able to peel them easily. Leave them to cool completely, then put them into a sterilised jar. Cover with light olive oil and, if you like,