|
My wife, Roberta, and I are into food-cooking
it as well as eating it. Between us we've taken maybe a dozen one-
or two-day weekend courses in preparing French Provençal,
Cantonese, Szechuan, Vietnamese and Southwestern dishes. Roberta
was once a banker in Brazil and is fluent in that country's cuisine.
But until last summer we didn't know much about preparing Italian
dishes. That changed when we added five glorious days of cooking
school to the itinerari of a vacation to Italy. It wasn't the least
expensive part of our trip, but it provided experiences that we
can relive every time we don aprons and belly up to the stove. Choosing
a school is harder than we imagined. There's a lot to choose from.
The indispensable The Guide to Cooking Schools (ShawGuides, $19.95)
lists 41 cooking schools in Italy (as well as 37 in France, 24 in
England and hundreds in the U.S.), and dozens more elsewhere.
More perplexing, the schools' programs and their
prices differ enormously. Some schools, including the Hotel Cipriani
Cooking School in Venice, are essentially lecture courses: Students
watch and take notes as Renato Picolotto demonstrates the proper
way to make black tagliatelle or stuffed cannelloni. Price for the
five-day course is $3,385 per person, including a room at the famed
Cipriani. Roberta and I wanted to learn by doing, not watching.
After narrowing our preferences down to schools in Naples, Venice
or Tuscany, I visited the ShawGuides Web site on the Internet (www.shawguides.com)
and came up with 20 candidates. We wrote away to each, sorted through
the brochures that came back, and eventually settied on a school
named La Bottega del '30 - literally the Shop of '30. (The name
comes from the address of a fabled old Italian bordello). It's not
the fanciest cooking school, nor the most expensive, but it added
immeasurably to our holiday (and slightly less to our waistlines).
The school and its related public restaurant are
the primary sources of activity in Villa a Sesta, a tiny hamlet
in Tuscany's hilly Chianti region 15 miles northeast of Siena and
45 miles southeast of Florence. Bottega del '30's owners are Helène
Stoquelet and her husband, Franco Camelia. In Villa a Sesta they
have three interconnected fieldstone-and-stucco buildings that surround
a courtyard and house their family, the cooking school and their
Ristorante La Bottega del '30. So popular is the restaurant with
the locals that you almost need to enroll in the school to get a
table. The school houses students in nine spacious and nicely decorated
apartments. Stoquelet and Camelia offer a Sunday-to-Saturday curriculum
that is limited to ten students per session. You check in Sunday
afternoon and maybe lounge around the pool with its views over vineyards
and olive groves, or play some tennis on a nearby court. The program
kicks off Sunday night with a sumptuous meal at La Bottega del '30
restaurant, where Stoquelet and Camelia prepare and serve up a kind
of introductory course on the Chianti region's food and wines. Of
particular note are Stoquelet's zuppa di faggiano, a pheasant soup,
and malfatti con fonduta di pecorino, tender spinach dumplings in
a cheese sauce.
For wines, we found the 1994 Verdicchio di Jesi
particularly rewarding. You learn to cook between breakfast and
lunch during the next five days, Monday through Friday. The classes
run from 10 a.m. until around 12:30 p.m. at ten individual cooking
stations-a stovetop and cutting board with all the necessary utensils.
Each morning Helène Stoquelet focuses on the successive stages
of a meal. Monday, appetizers. Tuesday,soups and sauces. Wednesday,
pastas. Thursday, main courses. Friday, desserts.Students also work
on complementary dishes, so the class creates a full meal each day.
Stoquelet speaks little English, but an English-speaking food expert
is always on hand for English-speaking students. My personal triumph?
Cupola delicata, a pasta dish that comes out looking like the dome
atop an Italian basilica.
We started with a metal bowl, coated the inside
with butter, then lined the inside with partially cooked strips
of uncut ziti, making it look like the inside of an upside-down
beehive. We then added a filling of peas, tomatoes, zucchini, mushrooms,
carrots and more ziti (diced this time), all held together with
a béchamel sauce. After baking for 45 minutes, we let it
set, then slid the dome-shaped dish out of the bowl. Perfection.
About 12:30 each day, the wine came out, usually a Chianti or a
Brunello. After cleaning up, we'd sit down with our fellow students
to sample what we'd prepared that morning. The best way to learn
to cook is by doing, and eating what you've done. Afternoons were
free time. For those so inclined, the proprietors arranged field
trips: to a grappa distillery, to the local Prada outlet store,
a car tour of the lovely Tuscan countryside, its arid ruggedness
cloaking a soft and verdant underside. Each night we dined at a
different local restaurant - all arranged and prepaid by the school.
Friday night's meal was back at Ristorante La Bottega
del '30 - a graduation party of sorts with each student receiving
a diploma, a chef's toque and an apron. Stoquelet prepared tomato
bruschetta with a porcini salad, followed by ravioli stuffed with
pigeon in a pine nut and rosemary sauce. Then a honey-colored roast
duck stuffed with a wonderfully flavored wild fennel, followed by
tiramisú, the luscious dessert made from soft mascarpone
cheese, cream, marsala wine and lady fingers dipped in strong espresso.
Cost for all this: $2,200 per person and that includes everything:
room and board for six nights, the cooking lessons, the side trips,
those splendid evening meals out. I gained seven pounds, but it
was worth every ounce.
|