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By Shirley Fong-Torres Contact
Shirley at wokwiz@aol.com I knew Wro often watched television re-runs of "ER" after I retired for the night, so I figured he was suffering from a severe case of sleep deprivation, coupled with a common crush on George Clooney. But he surprised me. "You're a chef, Mommy, and I'm a bear. In the ER, chefs are known as white bears. It's true, I heard from a real orso bianco. So we belong in the ER." Wro was right, of course, though few people call Emilia-Romagna "the ER." I had been half dreaming of my first trip to Venice, but Wro informed me that I might have to ride boats there, and that the food was much better in 'the ER.' So we flew into Bologna's quaint airport. Since this was just a short drive from the town center, I figured we already had saved a few hours of commute time, compared to flying into Rome or Milan. Emilia-Romagna is the only political entity I know of that is named for a highway. The Via Emilia was built in 187 BC, to bring the rich produce of this region to markets in the north and south. This east-west road is still busy today, and the region is the reason "Bologna La Grassa (the Fat)," is still portly with the bounty of God's blessings and man's better instincts in the kitchen. Running from Rimini on the Adriactic to Piacenza on the border with Lombardy, Emilia-Romagna is bordered by the sea on the east, the Po River to the north, the Tuscan Appenines to the south and the Ligurian Appenines to the west. All those details play significantly in the cuisines. The entire valley within is alluvial soil, the richest in Italy. This is a breadbasket, the richest area in Italy for growing wheat, tomatoes, grapes, sugar beets and hemp. It's also among the best for pigs, cattle, maize and rice. Noticeably, olives are not grown here. They used to be, famously, but about 200 years ago, the farmland became too expensive to waste on olive trees, which can grow in any almost soil. The chefs never stopped using olive oil though, and the traditional cuisine here is the one of the few in the world that is simultaneously based in all three major cooking fats: lard, olive oil, and butter. The rest of Italy was divided by the dairy line, olive oil to the south, butter to the north, with lard occasionally available to the rich. The ER had it all. Naturally, this is where the best pasta, sausages, sauces, cheeses, hams and wines were found. Italians from other parts criticize Bolognese cooking as "ingrassamento," or fattening, but they also flock to the Bolognese restaurants, and a Bolognese cook is a status symbol throughout the country…and all of Europe. Bologna is the birthplace of the university, of unions and, most importantly, of Italian delicacies like tortellini (the official food of Christmas), tagliatelle (created to honor Lucretia Borgia), lasagna and mortadella ( the real bologna). We quickly learned that when you order something "Bolognese," it refers to the sauce, which is made of pork, veal, onions, tomatoes, carrots and butter. Tortellini are always served in broth, but tagliatelle are often served in the ragu that bears the name of this otherworldly city of ancient towers, miles of porticoes and walls of soft red, siena and burnt orange. Wro called it romantic, but he had developed a crush on Mehmet, our friendly porter at the delightful, perfectly located Star Hotel Excelsior. Wro would flirt at the front desk, while Mommy used the hotels free internet connections to keep up with work in San Francisco. We dined splendidly in "La Grassa," especially at two totally differently places. Bistro Tamburini at Via Caprare, 1 (www.tamburini.com), might be the best deli in the world. It's surely the best cafeteria we ever found. Completely lined with the great hams, cheeses, salamis and sausages of the region, this is the place for mortadella, cheeses and dozens of delicacies. Mortadella is the traditional sausage of Bologna, made in the early days with a mortar for meat, hence it's name shortened from "mortaio della carne." Hashed pork is seasoned with whole peppercorns and stuffed into pigskin casing, sometimes into the skin of an entire suckling pig. In Bologna, it is eaten with lentils on festive occasions. Wro said that all Wednesday's are festive, so I obliged him. The Trattoria da Baroni, at Via Morgagni 9-B, provided the kind of neighborhood restaurant experience that all of us dream about. Giorgia Baroni, who also operates a B&B here, and her father helped us order our way through the great regional specialties and house dishes, like tagliatelle with white truffles, or porcini, and tortellini Bolognese, with its famous ragu. Giorgia and her father even dance for the customers in this neighborhood place that seems to belong to another era. Bologna's pastas tiratas, or northern pastas, are usually distinguished from southern pasta by the inclusion of egg. However, the reputation of Bolognese pastas derived from the superior wheat grown in the ER. The milled flour, called soglia, is durable enough to be stretched translucently thin. It is hand rolled in all good Bolognese restaurants like the Baroni's. During dinner, Giorgia told us that her mother had been a great chef but that Italians do not believe in the celebrity of chefs, that people should not be celebrated for making God's food taste great anymore than priests should be celebrated for speaking God's gospel. Wro was humbled, he wanted to have his photo taken with a great orso bianco. We also discovered pizza, literally. Neither of us has ever much cared for American-style pizza, with its thick, boring crusts and heavy toppings. But at Bolognese pizzerias, like Nicola's (Piazza San Martino, 9) and Antico Brunetti (Via Carduti di Cefalonia, 5), we discovered a wonderful new species. Pizza al forno, thin crusted pies made of soglia, wood-fired at high temperatures and simply covered with fresh, superior ingredients that enhance the pie, rather than overwhelming it. We even liked the burnt edges. Bologna and the surrounding area is home to some utterly famous 4-star restaurants, but the true mark of a great food town is how well regular folks dine. Bologna passes that test with highest honors, like San Francisco and New Orleans. Trattorias, pizzarias and bistros are not expensive, but Wro and I had more memorable meals there than we have had in some 4-stars elsewhere. I could have spent my whole week there, but Wro insisted we move on to other pleasures of the ER. He was also miffed that the Bologna soccer team was not at home that week…and he so loves boys in soccer shorts. So what's a mother to do? The morning before we boarded a train for Modena and Parma, Wro took me back to our favorite coffee house. Remember, the founder of Starbucks visited Italy just before launching his American empire. Italian coffeehouses are the world's most elegant. Amongst the polished brass and wood, the ornate espresso machines and the seductive chocolates, we spotted an orso bianco Wro's size. So we adopted a new bear to remind us always of the culinary adventures we had in La Grassa. Wro named her Emilia and told her she could be his sous chef in America. Even though she has far more experience in the kitchen than he does, she accepted. (Click here to read about Arnie Greenberg in Lucca).
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