Showing posts with label mostarda. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mostarda. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Dusky Honey, Watermelon Jam, & Fig Mostarda



It’s sort of been like Christmas in October as I’ve had the opportunity to taste more extraordinary condiments from the Lake Garda region of Italy, via Laney Sachs and her online import shop, Ortensia Blu. Last week it was all about Mostarda Senepata. Here are a few more hard-to-find delicacies she's gathered. All would make great gifts. But if I were you, I'd order some to keep, too. 



Dusky (in a beautiful way) Honey

Ortensia Blu offers this romantic description for Miele del garda Bresciano also known as Melata: “Honeydew (Melata) Honey is named after the beads of nectar that glisten in the morning dew.” 

The thing is, that “morning dew” comes not from the nectar of wildflower blossoms, but from sap. This sap is a result, as one source put it, of “a splendid team effort involving bees and other insects. As they pierce the bark of fir and chestnut trees (among others) they release the essence of the tree—known as the melata,” spreading it over the surrounding flowers and leaves. The bees collect this sap with its aromatic, dusky character and high mineral content and transform it into this rare, highly prized honey. 

Dark amber, it has a lusty, molasses-y flavor profile. Enjoy it as you would enjoy any great honey. I actually like it on oatmeal, and it’s a classic with figs (roasted or not) and cheese for dessert.




A Most Unusual Jam

Conserva de Anguria Bianca is a watermelon jam. New to me, its flavor sits on the border of earthy and refreshing. Light and delicate, the jam resonates with the flavor of summer melon, but it’s not overly sweet. I found myself fantasizing about spreading it between layers of a vanilla poppyseed cake. It would also shine on biscuits or cornbread.

Beyond its flavor, what might strike you most about this shimmering, translucent green jam is the appearance of slippery red watermelon seeds suspended in the jar. I don’t suppose it would hurt you to swallow them, but I kind of like rolling them around my mouth and then letting them fly out over the deck when I’m alone. In “polite” (a rare occurrence in my world) company I would simply let them slide back onto a spoon or into my napkin. If you spread the jam on toast or whatever, you would, of course, remove the seeds. But the fact that the producer left them in the jam makes me really happy.

Mostarda de Fichi

Completely different in form and color from the firm jelly-like Mostarda Senepata in last week’s post, this spicy/sweet mostarda is what I think of when I think of the idea of “adult” sugarplums dancing in my head. Divine.

Petite white figs are suspended in a lemony yellow syrup and the flavor is a cross between spicy/hot and sweet. Traditionally, mostardas are served with “boiled meats” – something that always comes up in references but doesn’t really sound all that good. I like them with cheeses, of course – on a platter with salty cured meats, and with grilled meats of any kind. I could also see enjoying this particular fig mostarda with nicely caramelized roasted vegetables, such as carrots or Brussels sprouts. I’d drizzle a bit of the syrup on the veg’s and sprinkled chopped fig over them – not too much, just enough to get the occasional bite.


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Wednesday, September 26, 2012

From Italy with Love: Mostarda Senepata


Hello, dear condiment blog,

How I have neglected you over the long, sizzling summer. But now, with autumn in full flush and chestnuts about to drop from the gnarled trees outside my window, I’m back to regale you with some exquisite condiments from far away. 


The Lake Garda region of Italy, actually. 

A great friend of mine recently returned from a culinary excursion around this region with her friend, Laney Sachs of Ortensia Blu.com. Laney imports carefully curated collection of Italian edibles and wares to the U.S. and offers them through her web site. My friend kindly decided that a condiment lover such as I needed a taste of a few of the edibles Laney has discovered -- many of them through the Manestrini family of Azienda Agricola Manestrini

Signor Egidio Manestrini

The Manestrinis have lived on their family compound overlooking stunning Lake Garda -- with the Alps to the north and a Mediterranean microclimate at the south -- for over 150 years. They started producing olive oil from their own trees and made a huge success of it. Over the years and through the joys of relationships developed with small family businesses in the region, they expanded into private label honeys, sauces, jams and mostarda. 

Think Slow Food in action. Old food ways are preserved, new palates get to taste the results and the cycle continues. I was happy to give a few of the products a try. Here's the first, more to follow. 



From the Andrini family in Brescia, this quince mostarda is an extraordinary variation on the syrupy mostardas you may have experienced. (Mostarda is definitely not mustard, but it does combine the intense spices of mustard oil, or essence, or powder with the sweet flavors of candied fruit. Read a detailed description here.)
The Andrini version arrives in a handmade wooden box. Open it and discover a  jewel-like, firm disk, with a reddish/brown  color and a jelly-like texture. Based on an 18th century recipe, this glorious condiment is a blend of quince, candied orange, sugar and mustard. Its flavor is both subtle and complex, sweet and spicy, with the unmistakable heat of the mustard essence rising up as it melts on your tongue. 
Slice it thin and fan it out on a platter with your favorite cheeses, salumi, or other meats. I like to make a little open face sandwich of the cheese and mostarda and experience the soft heat and spice of the mostarda with the texture of the cheese, with or without a cracker. As a condiment, this mostarda compliments rather than overpowers any pairing. 
I also tried it alongside some gorgeous grass-fed lamb ham and lamb pate, both lovingly crafted by Frody Volgger at Caputo’s Butcher Shop in Salt Lake City. Let's just say the combinations were brilliant. As close to Italy as a person can hope to come while sitting in the Rocky Mountains.
You could also simply layer this mostarda on a favorite sandwich – such as roasted turkey breast with arugula on a chewy roll. Or, roll it up with prosciutto. And, apologies to sweet membrillo, a quince-based cousin, but Mostarda Senepata would make a great spicy substitute for membrillo in this Chow.com recipe for a watercress, almond, manchego salad. 
Someday I hope I get to explore the region of Lake Garda myself. Until then, I treasure these authentic tastes of Italy. The quality is extraordinary and the prices are absolutely reasonable. 
Photos courtesy Ortensiablu.com