LITMIR.BIZ

Pesto trapanese

      Tomato and almond pesto

      Use this with fish or meat, or toss through pasta.

      Makes about 600g

      75g almonds

      500g plum tomatoes

      4 garlic cloves

      sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

      40g fresh mint, shredded

      50ml olive oil

      Heat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4. Lay the almonds in a single layer on a baking tray and put into the oven for about 8 minutes. As long as they are in a single layer you don’t need to turn them. Keep an eye on them to make sure they don’t burn, and when they are golden, take them out and chop them.

      Put the tomatoes into a pan of boiling water for 10 seconds, then drain them under cold water and you should be able to peel them easily. Cut them in half, scoop out the seeds with a teaspoon, and chop the flesh.

      Grind the toasted almonds with the garlic, using a pestle and mortar, until you have a paste. Add the tomatoes, salt, pepper and mint and pound again very briefly, just to crush the tomatoes a little. Then add the olive oil a little at a time, working it into the paste.

Salsetta di mandorle e acciughe

      Almond and anchovy sauce

      The touch of cinnamon in this is a reminder of the Arab influence in Sicily. Use this like a pesto, with vegetables, fish or pasta.

      Makes about 350g

      6 salted anchovies

      90g almonds

      60g breadcrumbs

      10 mint leaves, chopped

      a pinch of ground cinnamon

      1 tablespoon white wine vinegar

      1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

      140ml olive oil, or as needed

      Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/gas 4.

      Rinse and dry the anchovies. Run your thumb gently along the backbone to release it, then you should be able to easily pull it out.

      Spread the almonds over a baking tray and the breadcrumbs over a separate tray. Put both in the oven to toast for about 8 minutes until golden, keeping an eye on them to make sure they don’t burn, then remove and chop the almonds.

      Using a pestle and mortar, pound the toasted almonds, then add the breadcrumbs and anchovies and pound some more. Add the mint leaves, cinnamon, vinegar, lemon juice, and enough olive oil to pound to a creamy sauce.

Salsa di pomodoro

      Tomato sauce

      I was staying in a small, very simple hotel in Piazza Armerina in the province of Enna, and in the morning the woman asked, ‘How was the food last night?’ I said that it was fantastic, very natural in its flavours, especially the tomato sauce, and she was so happy. She told me, ‘I can cook tomato sauce like no one else. My cousin even steals my tomatoes, but she can’t make the sauce as good.’ Everybody in Sicily is so proud of their sauce, which gets passed from grandmother to mother to daughter. Usually people are also sworn to one kind of tomato, whose acidity and sweetness they understand.

      In Vittorio’s kitchen, every morning, one of the women comes in, peels a whole case of tomatoes, and starts the sauce. Then at 9.30am Vittorio’s son-in-law, Ignazio, arrives and the sauce is bubbling away, so he tastes it, adds a bit of salt and puts the lid on the pan. At 10-10.30am Vittorio arrives, tastes it and puts in a bit of salt and sugar. At 11am Vittorio’s son, Michelangelo, arrives, and says the sauce needs something else. It is like a son with a thousand fathers, that sauce.

      The sauce below is the one we make at Locanda with very ripe tomatoes, but tinned tomatoes are fine when you can’t find good fresh ones. Remember, when you use fresh tomatoes, don’t be scared that the sauce is going to be too dry. Tomatoes are about 70 per cent water, and only 30 per cent fibre, so you have to let them cook slowly and the liquid will come out. Don’t panic and add half a litre of water, because then you will have soup.

      The olives give a little bitterness and edge, and you can add a pinch of dry oregano if you like as the sauce cooks. In Modica, around Easter time, I had some quite sweet tomato sauces balanced with wild fennel, that went with ravioli di ricotta – this was one of the few times I ever ate filled pasta on the island, as dried pasta is much more typical. That Sambuca-like flavour is something I never thought would work with tomato, but it goes perfectly.

      10 whole black olives in brine

      2 tablespoons olive oil

      1 medium white onion, finely chopped

      1.5kg ripe, fresh tomatoes or 1kg tinned chopped tomatoes

      sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

      a little sugar if needed

      Drain the olives and pat dry. With a sharp knife, make three or four cuts in each olive from end to end, and then cut each segment away from the stone as carefully as you can.

      Heat the olive oil in a pan, add the onion and cook until soft but not coloured. Add the olives and cook for 2 minutes, then add the tomatoes and simmer for 30 minutes. Season to taste, adding a little sugar if the tomato is too acidic, and pass through a fine sieve.