The Mediterranean diet

It has been a couple of quite days, just getting on with work – both him and me – and general housekeeping stuff. Chris and Take That left yesterday, not at the same time of course, which meant Stephen spent a significant chunk of his time driving to and from Ancona airport. I kept him company on his first trip and yes, we did stop by Cuore Adriatico again, which is becoming habit forming. This time it was to see if they stocked Bella’s and Harry’s dog food at the very large hypermarket (they don’t) but we did purchase a snazzy set of bathroom scales. I’m relieved to say that despite copious amounts of pasta I haven’t put any weight on but will be keeping a check to make sure I don’t. We have, though, found a very good pet store just past Rapagnano, so we’ve able stocked up on pet food and much needed dog shampoo. Stand by for showers tomorrow, kids.

As nothing much has happened, I thought I’d let you in on the secret creation that is Flavia’s anchovy sandwich, which she seems to make only on Fridays, being fish day.

At lunchtime, we usually start with a pasta dish of some sort – but unlike in Britain where it comes swimming in sauce, here the pasta is just lightly coated – or, occasionally, risotto. Whichever it is, there are chunks of fresh Parmesan to feed the hand-held, rechargeable grater – except if the pasta is fish. No respectable Italian would shower cheese on fish. In addition, there is always a loaf of bread, delivered fresh daily, that Romolo carves into slices as required.

After pasta there is a choice of dishes, usually the left overs from the previous lunches or dinners that may make a couple of appearances before being polished off or considered to have outlived their gastronomic half-lives. There are also some cold cuts; bresaola is a special treat, doused in lemon juice and olive oil with shavings of Parmesan, or mortadella or prosciutto cotto, all freshly sliced at the supermarket on Flavia’s way home. Maybe some fresh tomatoes cut up with oil and a little seasoning, or artichoke hearts baked in the oven and left to go cold. The surprising thing for British people is that home cooking in Italy is very sparing with adding flavouring, letting the taste of the food predominate. They also, apart from the pasta which is hot, serve the rest of the food warm or at room temperature. There is no mad last minute race to get everything on the table as fast as possible before it goes cold; here it is much more leisurely and rather than load your plate with everything, you take a bit of something at a time and enjoy that on its own, or at most with one other item, before choosing something else.

There is always fruit to finish, and maybe a sliver of cheese. Cakes and desserts are special treats; in fact, though there is always plenty to eat at meal times, one reason I think that Italians are seen to have a healthy diet is that they don’t snack or graze like in Britain. I have been here two weeks now and have not eaten anything other than at mealtimes or with an aperitif at the pub, and have neither missed nor craved for it.

Anyway, to Flavia’s sandwich - here is what you do. You take a slice of bread (the size is sort of double a baguette in Britain) and then place two or three slices of butter (yes slices, no spreading nonsense) on it, enough roughly to cover the bread. You then take two or three anchovy fillets, still slicked with oil, and place them on the butter. Finally, you place another slice of bread on the top before eating and enjoying. You should try it; it’s one of those things that is much greater than the sum of its parts. And don’t worry about the large amount of butter – you can get away with it when you’re not sneaking biscuits and chocolate every other hour.