Learning to Cook Like an Italian

What better place to learn to cook real Italian food than Tuscany? I've lived with an Italian man for three years now, and over time have learned a lot about Italian cooking: always use the freshest in-season ingredients, letting them be the focus of the meal; good olive oil is the key to great-tasting food; and recipes are always guidelines rather than exact instructions. Much of Italian cooking must be learned rather than taught: there is a wealth of infinite knowledge to be learned from observing the Italian cook in the kitchen that is rarely expressed in formal cookbooks.

Sunday lunch in Italy is a sacred occasion, a grand family meal of many courses. So last week's Sunday lunch was my tutorial on the Italian classic zuppa di mare - soup of the sea. Here's what I learned:

1) Begin by prepping the seafood. Soak the vongole (clams) in a bowl of water, cut the polpo (octopus) and raw fish into manageable cooking pieces, and clean the cozze (mussels) - that part's the worst, in my opinion. Cleaning mussels took nearly an hour, there were so many. The kitchen was filled with raw seafood piled in the sink and bowls on every surface: the bounty of the sea, literally.

2) Chop the vegetables. Onions, more garlic than you think could possibly be necessary, carrots and celery - I was set to work on chopping vegetables, and then fresh parsley (there were three different kinds, some leaves half the size of my hands. Parsley in Italy is on a whole other level.) The base to the zuppa (soup) was of course onions, garlic, and tomatoes, simmering slowly to develop the flavor.

3) The first course was stuffed mussels. Garlic sauteed in oil in a pan on the stove, then crushed tomatoes, making a classic marinara sauce. Then they whisked a raw egg into the tomato sauce to thicken it, tempering the egg in a glass bowl with the warm marinara and combining. When the tomato-egg sauce mixture came together to the right consistency, it was then spooned into each raw mussel and tied with string to bake in the oven for 10-15 minutes.

The mussels came out of the oven bubbling hot, with the tomato filling lightly crusting the edges of the mussel shells, enveloping the savory mussel meat inside. We peeled the string off the shells, prying the shells open with spoons to devour the exquisite insides.

4) Next course: classic steamed mussels and clams with garlic, parsley and a splash of wine. Simple, to the point, and eaten with bread and fresh homemade garlic aioli, which could knock you out with one whiff of the pungent raw garlic aroma.

 5) Meanwhile, the zuppa was simmering away. After the vegetables went in the polpo (octopus) and white fish, then more clams and mussels, then finally topped with gamberoni and scampi (shrimp of all sizes), the lid on tight to infuse the seafood with the aromatics' flavor. The zuppa was served right out of the pot:

The broth was ladled over a piece of crusty toasted bread placed in the bottom of each bowl, to sop up the juices, and topped with the steaming hot seafood piled high:

The savory tomato broth and perfectly cooked seafood and fish was so flavorful, the taste of the sea infused in every bite. At the bottom was the broth-soaked bread, the dessert at the end of the seafood symphony. We enjoyed the meal with Tuscan wine of course, and finished with espresso and grappa. Cooking like an Italian also means you get to eat like an Italian: course after course of delicious homemade food, enjoying time together at the table as a family. It's the way to live life, I think - enjoy every moment.

On the Pier

Pier 4 on the Boston harbor is the classic New England seafood restaurant, with waterfront views, fresh lobster, and a full raw bar. Pier 4, the best way to put it, is simply old school. It has the old-fashioned nautical interior with the wooden ship end replica and seafaring decor, the tried and true seafood menu staples such as clam chowder and raw oysters, and the sense of throwback to another era, the time of dirty martinis and cigars. Perhaps it never left the time when Pier 4 was the place to go in Boston, the standard for seafood restaurants in the region, the hot spot for the best lobster, caviar, and the most exceedingly expensive bottle of wine. The restaurant is surely steeped in history, with a wall of photos paying homage to the famed celebrities that have dined at Pier 4 over the years - shots of the owner Anthony Athanas posing with the likes of Joe DiMaggio, Willie Mays, Bobby Orr, Elizabeth Taylor, Liza Minelli, Pope Paul IV, and of course a few Kennedys.

In this way, dining at Pier 4 is like stepping back into a moment in time, when dinner was an unhurried, lavish affair, and there was no better celebration than the meal.

Our celebration began with a plate of complimentary marinated mushrooms, juicy little nuggets of flavor, and steaming hot popovers, soft and fluffy and practically spilling out of the basket. Pier 4 has what one might call a "serious wine menu" with such an extensive selection including rare, good wines, that it would be daunting to the inexperienced diner. Yet the wait staff was unpretentious and the service incredibly attentive, helpful to answer questions about the multi-tiered menu and serve the diners' every needs. From raw to fried seafood, they had it all, so we naturally chose some appetizer classics, fresh clams and fried calamari, which were executed incredibly well. For entrees there was the bouillabaisse a la Marseillaise, shellfish and finfish in a robust broth of tomatoes, leeks, garlic and saffron, so sumptuous it had to be sopped up with bread; lobster Newburg, tender morsels of lobster meat swimming in the rich bath of butter-cream with a kick of sherry and cognac; and golden, glistening sea scallops seared to perfection.

I chose the Boston sashimi, a gorgeous plate of raw seafood presented on a bed of light greens and shredded carrot to provide a nice crunch to accompany the soft meat, a note to Japan with soy and pickled ginger. The fresh chunks of fish were gleaming jewels before me, the salmon melting in the mouth like butter, the swordfish clean and light, the finnan haddie - smoked haddock - providing a nice smoky contrast, and the tuna like pink rubies on the plate. Slurping down raw oyster, scallops and cherrystone, I had a feast to behold, and all as fresh as if it had been pulled from the sea and slapped down on my plate.

Watching the ships come in to the dock through the huge glass windows overlooking the harbor, we had a perfect scene before us to watch twilight give way to twinkling night, the smell of ocean breeze and the sound of splashing surf. We finished with a chocolate souffle served with a decadent zabaglione sauce, for an elegant culmination to the epic meal. Pier 4 hasn't changed in decades, frankly, because there's no need to reinvent the wheel. For traditional seafood that tastes damn good, go for dinner on the pier.