Artichoke Risotto from Calagrana

Because some days I just like to make myself salivate:

And cause I miss those Calagrana folks and foods.

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*Note: We were on pre-tirement, and now we’re back. Want the full story? Start the pre-tirement journey here. Want to go backwards? Read the last pre-tired post here and scroll back. Or, just keep coming back for pretty Italy pictures.

A Cooking Class at Ristorante Calagrana

I’ve mentioned the restaurant Calagrana on the blog multiple times, going on in effusive terms about how delicious it is, how friendly the folks working there are, and how if you come to this area (the Upper Tiber Valley, that is—but really, you can sub in “Italy” for the area if you want, or “Europe”) and don’t stop by for dinner or a Sunday brunch, well, your taste buds must be dulled. I fully figured that we’d stop by for eats there at least, oh, once a month while here, but never thought we’d be lucky enough to enjoy a cooking class there with Chef Alberto Chiappa (sometimes going as Alberto, or even Albi if one is trying to type quickly). Stars recently aligned however, thanks to a gift from my awesome sister Jill and brother-in-law JD, who gave me, Natalie, and my mom Trudy a class at Calagrana recently.  We went in early-ish for coffee, jaw’d a bit, and then headed into the kitchen to make lunch. The class was, in a word: fantastic. We made an assortment of dishes, but had to start by chopping vegetables for stock:

and dicing vegetables for one of the courses (julienning carrots, zucchini, and onions):

Along the vegetable way, and this is how it was when doing anything in Albi’s class, we learned about the best way to chop, cut, mix, and do whatever it took to put together our Italian meal. This included him teaching us how to peel and thinly slice eggplant:

After grilling said eggplant, Natalie rolled it up cozy around delish Italian ricotta (an aside: why can’t we get good ricotta in the States? Creamy but firm, tasteful but not overwhelming, yummy and yummy—why?) for eggplant cannelloni:

Once the veggies of various sorts (one I don’t have a picture of, but got the most out of learning about, was artichokes, for those completest readers) were sliced, diced, frying, and fried, mom put her lessons on puff pastry to good use:

After a little dessert-ing (we learned how to make the famous Calagrana molten chocolate cake, or “the Devil,” along with picking up a trick of two involving freezing--but hey, I can’t tell you everything. Take the class yourself pardner) we moved on to one of the key parts of the class, or any class at Calagrana I think: pasta making. Starting with just flour, eggs, and a stitch of oil, we went to mixing it minimally, and then on to using the pasta machine to knead and create pastas. All the while, Albi gave us pointed and hints and insight into how true Italian homemade pasta is made--and always made the learning fun:

For today’s class, we were making ravioli (beet for most, veggie for beet-allergic me—cause no-one wants to see me explode in red welts at the luncheon table). Look at Nat’s skill in crafting the ravioli:

Nat was so influenced by the pasta-making that she wrote a whole pasta post at Bella Cinghiale and promises to make homemade pasta as much as possible (which is darn fine news for me). After the above (and let me tell you, it’s an abbreviated version, cause this is a blog of course, and my posts tend to go on too long anyway, but we learned oodles during our three hours of cooking with Albi) the best part of any cooking class happened: we were able to eat our work. Think about how much better school would be, and how much more excited students would be to learn if after ever lesson they had a delicious chance to eat what they learned? Before the final dish pics, naturally, we had to go out of the kitchen and sit down at a table in the restaurant proper. Look who was waiting for us:

Albi and Ely’s son Oli (or, Oliver). Isn’t he cute? We could have played with him for hours, but he was as hungry as we were, so on to the appetizers. We started with puff pastry topped with sautéed veggies and a gorgonzola fondue (or cheese sauce) so scrumptious I ordered it again the next time I was at Calagrana:

Next, we had the ingeniously flavorsome eggplant cannelloni mentioned above, where eggplant takes the place of pasta, rolled around that rich ricotta filling (the pic is in pre-bake stage, due to photographer fluxuations):

Following up the antipastas (though many might think the first two stops would be a full lunch) we moved into the ravioli, which had the various fillings and pasta made with our own little hands (by the way, we did an admirable job):

Now here’s the one downside of the whole day, the one smudge on the menu, the one sour burst in the biting—I forgot to take a picture of the artichoke risotto. I mentioned missing taking a picture of the artichokes above, but how could I also forget the risotto? The risotto? I love risotto. It’s one of my favorite dishes on the planet and I believe Calagrana’s is among the best I’ve had. And I learned some key risotto-cooking-tips to boot. But no pictures. So, take the darn class yourself and you’ll learn what I did, then take a picture and send it to me. I did, however, take a pic of the deluxe Devil dessert, which may help make up for the lack of risotto:

Now that, cooking lovers, is quite a class: five courses, lots of inspired learning, lots of laughs, and wine to boot. You know what’s best? Calagrana does cooking classes for everyone, not just pre-tirees like us. So you can sign up, take a class, make some tasty food, and learn a bunch of helpful cooking secrets. Because that’s the only way you’ll learn them—I’m sure not telling you.

*Want to set up your own Calagrana cooking class? Click right here.

Holiday Lunch at Calagrana

Well, just so you don’t think I’m straight out fibbing to you, our recent lunch at Calagrana (a wonderful ristorante I talked on and on about in an earlier Calagrana post) wasn’t on a holiday per se (about seven days before one). But it was a holiday lunch in that it was a holiday present for Natalie and I, courtesy of my tasteful and awesome sister Jill and brother-in-law JD. See, they’d read about our enjoying Calagrana, in the earlier post I mentioned above (if you were paying attention), and decided that setting us up for a lunch would be a sweet present--and boy, were they right. My sister actually called multiple times to talk to Ely (the friendly female head of the Calagrana family) to set up the lunch, and (as if that wasn’t enough) also set us up for a future Calagrana cooking class. Yay! But on to lunch. We started with a warm lentil and (if you’re Natalie--I’d’a had to be iv’d with Benedryl for beets) beet salad with goat cheese crostini. We probably haven’t had enough lentils (yet another food Italy is famous for, with different areas having lentil claims to fame), but this started to make up for it. Delicious and warm, it was the ideal way to begin a Sunday lunch (well, it and the lovely red wine, and the Calagrana bread. Only a few spots in Italy really set up you up with good bread, and this is one of them). The below is my non-beet’d version:

From there, we went to our pasta course (which for us is the main course, but someday we’ll go to Calagrana with a carnivore, so we can talk meat). I decided on the caramelized red onion ravioli. The pasta (much like the last time we were here) was made and cooked exactly right, an al dente delight. And the red onion filling was lush and sweet and unexpected (but now that I think about it—why not? Onions are the tops) and mingled well with the sage, butter, and parmesan topping:

Natalie went for the risotto, like on our last visit, but the results were quite different. This time she had mushroom risotto, and though it was still creamyish it had a much more earthy atmosphere to it, delicious and fragrant:

Also in the Calagrana style, we had wonderful contorni (or side dishes). There were “chips” or “patate fritte” or "French fries” (pick your nomenclature) that I didn'tr take a pic of, but which were thin and crisp and salty and just what’s wanted on a Sunday (a little comfort food). We also chiccaria (which I am totally spelling wrong), which we found out (after doing some research with Ely and a big food dictionary) is dandelion greens. I love dandelion greens. They’re like spinach’s more flavorful and muscular brother ( has anyone every used “muscular” and “dandelion” together?):

We finished off with “the devil” like last time (which is a pot o’ chocolate kind of goodness and madness):

and a carrot cake that may have been even better:

As well as grappa and homemade limeoncello, which we didn’t take pics of (go look here again), cause we were having too much fun talking across the room with the other patrons—it was Sunday lunch and everyone was feeling friendly. Thanks again Jill and JD for the scrumptious gift, and thanks Calagrana for another great meal.

*See more Italian restaurants: Capponi, Nestor's,Nonna Gelsa, Le Capannine di Sommavilla, Calagrana, Trattoria Il Saraceno, L Enoteca Wine Club, Mastro Dante, Bar Fizz, Da Cesari

*See all Italian restaurants

Dinner at Ristorante Calagrana

One of the first ristorantes our awesome Italian landlords/British Aunt and Uncle, Marianne and Andrew, told us about when we moved in was a place called Calagrana. It’s nestled up a tiny way in the hills just past a town called Spedelicchio, which is one of the towns we drive by almost daily when going into the city of Umbertide or the city of Trestina. Andrew and Marianna raved about Calagrana, giving us a little backstory and a lot of mouth-watering food talk. It turns out the owners, a super-friendly British woman named Ely and a super-talented Italian chef whose name I missed somehow, had owned a successful restaurant in London but wanted to raise their kids in Italy and so moved here not too long ago and opened Calagrana. We’d driven by the sign for it many times since Marianne and Andrew told us about Calagrana, but had been waiting for the right time to make a res and stop in for dinner. Last Saturday was the right time--and, in hindsight, it wasn’t nearly soon enough.

First off, it was an artsily cozy spot, with a family atmosphere but a small footprint and with interesting paintings on the wall but a very welcoming and friendly feel. It is a little low in lighting (which is nice and romantic and which I’m only mentioning as an excuse for my poor photos, which don’t do the food justice in the least). We started by sharing an ensalta agrodolce (agrodolce being the sweet-sour combination found most often in Southern Italy and tracing back to the Saracens, or so I’m told). This was a combination of lettuce, an assortment of veggies just thinner that julienned (I thought), and big juicy artichokes, tossed in an agrodolce dressing as mentioned. It had an ideal sense of balance, starting with the dressing, and moving through the variously cut veggies—amazing:

Next, we both got bowls of soup:  zuppa pasta fagioli. It was the tail end of October, and we were in the hills, and so the chill outside made zuppa almost a necessity. But this zuppa was a step above mere necessity, and above what we thought we’d be getting, as the beans were pureed instead of whole. Which meant that instead of being brothy and thin, it was very thick, and rich, almost like a Caribbean-style black bean soup (with different seasonings) highlighted by thick noodles:

We also both had a veggie risotto for our main event. If this would have just been a run-of-the-mill, tasty, Italian veggie risotto, I would have gone home happy (the soup and salad had been so first rate). But I think this may have been the best risotto I’ve ever had—well, definitely in the top five. The Arborio rice itself was perfect and al dente, which I’d hope to get at any decent spot. However, the risotto in total was so creamy and smooth and oozing just right that the taste and mouth feel was heavenly. Neither of us wanted to eat it too fast, because it was so worth savoring, but it was hard not to shovel it down:

Right as we were digging into our risottos, we had another tasty surprise. Our happy hostess brought us out a cauliflower gratin to share, saying that as all the meat dishes came with a side, our veggie dishes should, too. The gratin was great (rich, cheesy, goodness), but the gesture also defined Calagrana in a way, as that level of thoughtfulness was evident everywhere. The action shot photo I put down to excitement. I mean, who doesn’t get excited by surprise gratin:

You might think we’d be full, but if you know us well you know we have a hard time skipping dessert at a place with such a high culinary batting average (so to speak), and so we ordered this chocolate cakey number. I can’t remember the exact name, but it was referred to as “a chocolate pot of sin” and that covers it right:

With the chocolate madness we had (on the suggestion of our friendly hostess) a Grappa Torba Nera, which was an aged peat grappa, almost like a Scotch grappa. It was served in special glasses (that you only get when buying this grappa), and had an intense, smoky, strong flavor that went well with the chocolate:

Now that was quite a meal, but we weren’t quite done. When Nat’s after-dinner espresso came out, we were brought two glasses of Ely’s (that’s our hostess again) homemade limeoncello. I’d never turn down homemade liqueur, and the grappa had cleared some room, so I was excited before sipping it. After sipping that first sip, I was even more excited, because it was really well made limeoncello: not too sweet, but not mind-bendingly strong, with a clear lemon flavor:

 

We can’t wait to go back to Calagrana again, and if you’re ever in the Niccone Valley (or anywhere in Tuscany or Umbria) I suggest you do the same. Next time I promise to take better photos, too. And to take a few pics of the cuddly dogs bounding about outside the doors.

*See more Italian restaurants: Capponi, Nestor's,Nonna Gelsa,Le Capannine di Sommavilla

*See all Italian restaurants