Deep Fry Your Soul

The email invite was short, direct and to the point, reminiscient of the Epic Meal Time show that inspired the event.  In essence, show up with all cupboard remnants and be prepared - the Cacciatores are going to deep-fry your soul.  Only fitting that the guys who brought us our first full-class aperitivo of unsurpassed rowdiness would finish out the year.

It was loud.  It was messy.  It was hot.  It was sweaty.  It was greasy and obscene.

It was perfect.

Let's start at the very beginning . . .

Yes!  J. Dart's sacred KD contribution
(I did a little joy dance)

Toasting with the mother of all Swiss beer . . .

Deep-fried veal testicles.  Surprisingly tasty

The deep-fry / pork god of MFCC Section B

Liz' Pork Pasta Pork
Imagine pork meatballs stuffed with cheese, nestled in
a pasta shell, wrapped in pancetta THEN deep-fried.

Ale likes it!

Now THIS is what I call aftermath!

Comfort Food

There are few days so bad they can't be improved by a steaming bowl of pasta.  In my world, there is no greater comfort food.  At home, my pantry is always stocked with whole-wheat or rice penne with the occasional guilty box of KD lurking in its depths for when life is just too much to handle without artificial orange mac & cheese. 

Here, I can't resist Puglian orecchiette.  It's the perfect scoop for sauces and melting parmigiano-reggiano adheres so well to the traditional markings on each "little ear".  We've now witnessed and participated in the creation of homemade pasta in various locations around Italy.

Barilla, the largest producer of pasta in the world, is a whole other universe.

Waiting for our lecture to begin in the Barilla teaching facility.

Checking out the kitchens for their traditional cooking classes. 

The factory is so large, bikes are required to move between sections

Pasta alla nonna

Catholic church basements are the same the world over: bright walls painted with slightly clashing colours and plastered with photos on poster board to mark parish events, the ever-present crucifix and portrait of the pope, pictures exhorting good acts and thoughts, plastic and old-school wooden chairs and a slightly musty aroma.

This church basement had one huge difference:  the ultimate pasta-making, booty-shaking nonna.

And the final product?  A squash-filled local tortelli served with meat ragu and the sweet taste of love.