Zucchini Preserve

by Diana 

Matera is now officially the European Capital of Culture 2019. This remote little village in Southern Italy is an enchanting place that not only burst with a fascinating and thought provoking social history but also with the usual and conventional Italian hospitality, generosity and passion for outstanding cuisine.

I spent 48 hours in Matera a couple of weeks ago visiting my beloved friend who, I can proudly say, is leading the team of volunteers there. Although she is originally from a town in Basilicata located about 1.5 hours drive from there, she was the best possible tour guide. The town has probably one traditional dish per inhabitant (it’s not as small as you think though!) and as much as my friend made the effort, it was physically impossible to try all of Matera’s typical meals in such a compressed period of time. I returned to London with quite a comprehensive list though and I will eventually share my poor attempts to some of those southern Italian delicious recipes here in the blog, but today I won’t be sharing any. 

Out of everything I tried I must admit there was something that completely stood out for me. As the good Italian daughter my friend is, she obediently accepts all the food her parents generously bring her from Basilicata every weekend. One of these parental indulgences was a jar of homemade preserved zucchini that I became completely addicted to. I got hold of the recipe with the warning and hence submissive understanding that I will never find quite the right flavour in the 'bland British courgettes' and that I needed to return to Italy if I wanted another genuine dosage of the delicious courgettes. 

© The Teaspoon

Rice Pudding

by Diana 

Venezuela’s crisis reaches BBC headlines (at last!). And whilst the government burns trucks containing humanitarian aid, basic food shortages persist and people remain hungry, ill and frustrated.

Mi Father, who has always been a ‘foodie’ has learnt to be restrictive and resilient in order to survive the hyperinflation. Nobody escapes devastation. I would never have imagined that a practicing doctor who once traveled the world with his four children, would ever struggle filling in his cupboard with the most basic of supplies. One of his hobbies during the week was to go through the multiple collection of recipe books and encyclopaedias, in search for the perfectly paired menu for the Sunday family meal. It was his way of celebrating the weekly gathering and of demonstrating his love.

He remains an inner foodie and sometimes I would get irritated as he would insistently ask me over the phone, to cook things at home here in the UK. Intense emotions invite me to reflect (I am a therapist, at last) on why he gets so fixated on specific recipes. It’s with immense sadness that I realise his insistence possibly comes from a place of restraint projects he is not allowed to flourish, of aspirations he is no longer free to achieve. My dad’s dreams and visions, as many others’s, had been imprisoned. Food is just the smallest of examples but, as with his love demonstrations, it’s incredibly significant (to me). 

Today I am making one of those recipes he can’t stop talking about: rice pudding. So basic, but none of the ingredients (rice, milk, sugar, cinnamon) are to be found on Venezuelan supermarket shelves, and in case you haven’t followed the news recently, then it would surprise you to know there is not even electricity in Caracas since Thursday.  Again, I have this recurrent feeling that we don’t appreciate enough the privileges of living in democracy and this is not just my small way of acknowledging it but also my way of process my own feelings. I hope you enjoy this Venezuelan version of the ultimate of traditional puddings. 

© The Teaspoon