Our Carciofi

When the season starts, the poor infants are murdered at birth and delivered to our back door by the basketful, so we take it in turns to rip off a few outer leaves; a quick bath of cold water and vinegar to flush out the eerie wigs, and then they are thrown into a padella (frying pan) of hot oil with garlic, parsley and peperoncino and fried for a few minutes. This is followed by a splash of white wine, a stock cube, salt and black pepper, slightly covered so they steam in the wine vapour till it evaporates . . . deeeeeeeeeeeeelish!! At the beginning of the season we just consume kilos of carciofi like this. Then we have to invent new dishes to use the excess . . . if we’re up to it. A lasagne with the sliced, cooked babies, a light bechamel and we have a stinky cheese here that is buried in a well for months so it smells like mould called formaggio del fossa, crumbled, with a glug or two of tartufo (truffle) oil . . . yummy!!! Or the fresh lasagne pasta chopped up into schizo bits (maltagliati . . . meaning ‘badly cut’) with a sauce of fried sausage, baby carciofi, a little panna (cream) and parmesan. Of course we also get them preserved under oil, but that’s the job for an old girl from the village. We will boil up a chopped-up leg or shoulder of lamb, with loads of onions and all the spices for a tagine, leave it till the next day then pop the cooked leg in the oven with the cooked carciofi and the reduced liquids for half an hour till sizzling and slightly browned. Yummy with cous cous.