A rainbow of gelato flavors, piled in swirly heaps, glistened in the case in front of me, and two nuns crunched happily on cones near the doorway, waiting for the light rain to let up. I've learned, after several deeply disappointing episodes in which I received a cup of hot water and a packet of Swiss Miss, to be careful when ordering hot chocolate. This chocolate looked sufficiently dark and viscous, so I ordered some. He held a green paper cup under the spout for a good thirty seconds as it trickled out - good hot chocolate does not go anywhere fast.
"Panna?"
But of course!
The whipped cream melted slowly into the deep brown, almost black liquid, forming a foamy white layer on the top. I dipped the spoon in and brought it to my lips. Steaming hot, sweet, dark, bitter at the end, it coated by mouth in chocolately richness.
Satisfied after half the cup, I stuck it in the fridge for later. When I took it out, it had cooled to the consistency of hot fudge sauce, coating the spoon completely. Cioccolata fredda is rather delicious, too, as it turns out.
Luckily for me, and luckily for the fact that I spend about six hours a day walking, Italians have myriad variations on the theme of flour, sugar, and some type of flavoring, often nuts, spices, chocolate, or citrus.
I tried two kinds of cookies - pignoli, which I had many years ago in Boston's North End (the Italian area), and one made with red wine and hazelnuts. The pignoli were, of course, fabulous. A light, slightly chewy, macaroon-style confection topped with rich pine nuts, they are one of my favorites. I make something similar at home with ground almonds, egg whites, and sugar.
The red wine cookie was tasty as well. The rich, sugar cookie dough had the faintest hint of red wine, and biting into a hazelnut released a delightful crunch and a fruity, nutty flavor.
Lynn, my wonderful host, brought home some of her favorite traditional treats, available only in the weeks before Lent.
I had seen frappe - crispy fried squares of dough dusted with powdered sugar - in every shop and bakery I passed, but I didn't recognize the castagnole. They look like donut holes, but are made with chestnut flour. They are rich and dense, with a crumbly texture - delicious! You have to get them while they last, Lynn explained. They disappear as soon as Lent starts.
I've been amazed at the types of confections I've seen here. The Italians certainly give the French a run for their money in the pastry department, for sheer variety if nothing else. I walked by giant meringues,
this...thing (whatever it is, it's festive)...
...brightly colored marzipan fruit...
...and I stopped into a bakery to get a closer look the sfogliatelle, clam-shaped layers of flaky pastry filled with ricotta. I wandered around the shop, looking at dozens of trays of cookies. A woman appeared, asking if I wanted something for breakfast.
"Very fresh," she said, drawing me over to the clam-shaped pastries again. She poked one to show me. The crackle of the delicate layers was audible. No further convincing was necessary.
"I'll take one."
Such crispiness is not always easy to find. A sfogliatelle in the hand...
I sat in a corner of the bakery, at a high table squeezed between cases of whipped cream-frosted tortes and trays of sprinkle-covered cookies. I broke off a piece and bit into it. The shell was as crispy as promised, and the filling was a lovely mixture of ricotta, sugar, and candied orange peel (my favorite!). I'm sure you could hear the crunch of the dough on the other side of the room.
It pulled apart into spiraled sections, connected by single strands of paper-thin dough. Each piece held a bit of the creamy, citrusy filling and a dusting of powdered sugar.
As fun to eat as it was delicious.
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