When life is hard I imagine myself in Feudal Britain. Unsure if my pedigree would allow for me to exist in the gentry, in this daydream I am often more your pastoral worker with several children or bar wench with rotten teeth. I think of how cold and miserable the UK might have been and how at the age of 30 I would be over the hill, right at the apex of medieval life expectancy. Moreover I think of the food, spices a premium, cocoa yet to be brought to our shores, just broiling, boiling and lard. Not even a comforting cup of tea. Apples and pears, yes; but no bananas and definitely no tomatoes.
In the age of convenience it’s so easy to forget how far our diets have progressed in the last hundred, yet alone five hundred years. In my own lifetime the shelves of the supermarkets have expanded to cater to all manner of tastes and lifestyles. I can still remember the first time my Mum came home with salad leaves in a bag and not a whole lettuce, a concept, which I could only describe as ‘dead posh’.
My introduction to fresh Parmesan, now widely available even in corner shops, but in the 90s rarely seen outside of specialist delicatessens, is a bright childhood memory. I have been friends with Adele Gould since we were three, and it was at her table, or rather her mother Rosa’s, I first understood that the pre-grated dried cheese bought off the shelf was simply NOT Parmesan. Rosa’s mother, Philippa LeMedica came to the UK from Sicily in the early 60s, and so at Adele’s house aspects of Southern Italian culture were very present. Most memorably tomato salad and something we affectionately called ‘Bash dinner’, a mispronunciation of Pastina - simply pasta in stock topped with mounds of Parmesan.
Today’s newsletter features photos from the wonderfully talented Sophie Williams, taken during a recent trip to her Nonno Calogero’s house. Many Sicilians were recruited by the government in the 50s to come to the UK under working visas. Like Adele’s family, Sophie’s settled in the Midlands. I can only think what they thought of the British produce on arrival, not quite medieval but for anyone that’s seen the markets in Palermo, it must have been quite the shock. Below Sophie will share her Grandfather’s Pomodoro recipe but before I hand over let me finish with how to assemble Pastina dinner-
Bash Dinner
Ingredients for 4 people (this is a dish where measurements are done by eye but I have made rough approximations)
-8 medium handfuls of Pastina (Pastina literally translates to ‘small pasta’, Adele recommends the shape Piccolissimo but any of the smaller shapes will do, Ditalini Lisci, Corallini or Stelline (A good excuse to use this tiny star shape!))
-750ml of water
- A Chicken stock cube
- Salt and pepper
- A generous squeeze of tomato puree
- Enough grated Parmesan to satisfy four mouths
Method
Bring water to the boil and generously salt. Dissolve the stock cube and stir in tomato puree. Add pasta and cook to packet specifications. Grind in more black pepper than you think is needed. When pasta is cooked ladle into bowls with stock. Finish with Parmesan.
Cheap, truly delicious and, as my recent experiment with it proved- fantastic for a hangover.
Ciao,
Rebecca and The Marigolds
Pairing Suggestion
For some reason this heat has got me thinking about Ribena. My hangover drink of choice, and the only squash based product I fuck with. There is something almost ceremonial about piercing the foil with the straw, and squeezing the last dregs from the bottom. A ceremony, along with licking the yogurt pot lid, which immediately transports me back to my childhood.
If I’m honest, I tried to think about something more ‘high-brow’ to pair with these banging Italian dishes, but the heart wants what it wants. Never a bottle, always a carton, ice cold: sorted.
- Emily
Nonno’s Sauce
words and photos: Sophie Williams
I recently spent a week back at home in Peterborough. I visited my Nonno (my Mum’s Dad) every day. Although I seem to remember being able to communicate with him, he now rarely speaks a full sentence of English without lapsing immediately back into Sicilian dialect, making me regret quitting my Italian lessons when I was 12.
As a kid, waking up on a weekday feeling ill, I’d tell my Mum that I couldn’t go into school. My hope was that I’d have a day at home with her, watching This Morning and trying to figure out what had happened on Doctors since my last sick day. But often instead I’d be dropped off at Nonno’s, because Mum couldn’t afford another day off work. With only Italian TV channels and the daily issue of The Sun for entertainment, the one saving grace would be his pasta sauce. Served on a bowl of penne at 12 o’clock on the dot, with generous sprinkling of parmesan and glass of red wine or beer, always diluted with room-temperature diet lemonade.
At 18, and on the brink of leaving home for good, my Mum took me to his house to learn how to make his sauce. It has since been lauded as ‘the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth’ by many of my friends.
His sauce is special and, like most special things, is brilliant because it’s so simple. I hold my Nonno fully responsible for how much of a salt addict I am now, and I am grateful. You just can’t be shy when adding salt to this; Nonno would not approve. Aside from the salt just make sure you’re equipped with a good amount of olive oil and at least 1 hour of cooking time and you’ll be left with the best pasta sauce of your life. Also, make loads. Honestly, you’ll only regret it otherwise.
This recipe makes enough for about 6 bowls of pasta.
What you need:
2 tins of tomatoes
1 large onion
4 cloves of garlic
Tomato puree
Fresh basil
Extra virgin olive oil
Salt + pepper
What to do:
Chop the onion quite finely
Fry the onion in loads of olive oil with the lid on the pan to keep the heat in and really get it soft
Then take the lid of and let the onion cook a bit longer and ever so slightly brown (the onion probably will take about 15/20 minutes in total)
Add the chopped garlic and fry for a few minutes until cooked but not burnt
Add the tins of tomatoes, using about half a tin of water to rinse out the inside of the tins and put back into the sauce. Also add about 1/3 a tube of tomato puree plus about 8 leaves of basil,
Then using a hand blender, blend the sauce until it's quite smooth.
Add loads more olive oil (maybe 2 tablespoons) and a generous amount of salt (maybe a heaped teaspoon)
Let this cook on a low heat for at least one hour, but ideally two, with a lid on top but with a gap for some air to escape. Keep checking it during this time - it may need a splash more water adding, or it may need to be cooked with the lid off for a little while so allow it to reduce.
You should be left with a thick, rich, deep red sauce which can be served on any pasta of your choosing, or as a sauce in a lasagna or pasta bake.
We hope you enjoyed today’s newsletter and your heart is suitably warmed by Sophie’s wonderful Nonno. We hope you get a chance to make yourself some 12 o’clock pasta or Family LaMedicia’s bash dinner. If you do please send us pictures, either to our email or to our *new* instagram: @clubmarigold.
Below is our weekly roundup of content as always.
See more of Sophie’s photography here: @sophiewilliams_s, sweet talented angel.
Bhangra Dance Competition Birmingham - As this week’s newsletter features pictures of life in the Midlands, here’s a look at a very different kind of immigrant culture. Aston and Birmingham university go head to head to be crowned best Bhangra dance troop. Packs in some great characters in half an hour, props to AJ and his training technique.
Claire Roberson - Friend of Marigold Claire left London to live in Palermo two years ago. Her Instagram is awash with beautiful pictures of the food and landscapes of Scilly.
Food Programme re: Brexit & tomatoes - This episode of The food programme looks at potential issues surrounding Brexit. Focus is mainly on the UKs tomato production and the Scillian families that have worked in and around our British greenhouses.