Calabria is all the blues of its steep, enchanting, and reluctant sea. It is the green of the leaves of cedars and bergamots, whose fragrance rises with the thermals along the steep slopes overlooking the sea, winds into the valleys, and retraces the now dry riverbeds until it reaches the perched villages, intoxicating passersby with warm and pungent aromas.
Calabria is the yellow, purple, and orange of the flowers that explode in overwhelming patches along the roads, inside the gardens, popping up from the boundary walls, perhaps after kilometers of barren land, variably perched villages, and sun-drenched monasteries. It is the absolute black of licorice crafted by hands that artfully transform this root with multiple properties into a thousand beautifully varied delights.
Calabria is the bright purple of the Tropea onion braids hanging in the shade in the dry air brought by the sea.
The bright red of 'nduja, a delight richly soaked in 'national' pride: Calabrian chili pepper.
the cross and delight of every brave palate ready to anesthetize itself just to sink its teeth into the melt-in-your-mouth goodness of a crostino generously spread with this tender cured meat.
And if up to this point almost every one of us has awareness and familiarity with such gifts, perhaps the same cannot be said for the more hidden pearls. And I hope so, because otherwise all this writing will not be of great use.
A new combination of flavors leads to yet another spreadable paste. Red from pepper, sweet or spicy, pretty obvious right? Rich in wild fennel and widespread especially in the Province of Crotone, this surprising Sardella crept into my mind this summer.
Produced starting from bianchetti (young anchovies) soaked for a long time with the aforementioned ingredients and salt, kept under the weight of a barrel, it is a kind of fish 'nduja. Presumably a direct descendant, like the anchovy colatura from Cetara, of the Garum so dear to Romans, Greeks, and Byzantines. Enjoy this "Calabrian caviar" in markets or at the home of those who prepare it; the difference with the mass-produced version is immeasurable.
The Sardella is eaten spread on toasted bread while we sip a Cirò white wine, strictly keeping our gaze fixed on the sea at sunset.
Moving northward and inward, we leave the sea and head towards the rich parks of Calabria, specifically in the Pollino park, to meet the food of the gods.
We thus venture to discover the park, its immense beech forests, the Raganello canyon, and the Devil's Bridge. We climb to the tops of the Pollino and Gada mountains, overlooking the Tyrrhenian Sea, also visiting the fascinating clay cliffs. And after all this sweet wandering, the weary body feels the need for refreshment. It happens that while stopping a bit randomly to put something under our teeth, we come across hanging necklaces that at first glance seem to be the usual spicy peppers, but too large and dark, and in fact they are the older and wiser brothers, namely
The red peppers from Senise, or Goat's Horn.
In truth, this is a product that transcends regions; indeed, the culture of processing and consuming this vegetable, which arrived from the Antilles around the seventeenth century through the Spanish, is shared with Basilicata. Of a beautiful bright crimson color, measuring between 10 and 15 cm, it is available in several varieties with slight differences in shape; pointed or blunt, it proudly displays itself hanging in markets, restaurants, farms, and homes from July/August, filling the air with its sweet aroma. After being harvested, strictly by hand, it is placed to dry in partial shade, on nets or cloths. Once the stems have softened, they are sewn together with string to form garlands, braids up to two meters long, which are hung in ventilated spaces like porches and balconies, never in direct sunlight.
Finally ready, the peppers are roasted and ground into powder, known as paprika or saffron, used to flavor cold cuts or sauces and side dishes. But the most surprising result is obtained by frying the whole fruits in oil that is not too hot and for just a few seconds; once cooled, they will be unbelievably crispy.
Ready to explode all their sweetness with every bite with a unique crunch, hence the name "crusco."
In this form, you can find them crushed in a beautiful plate of pasta with sausage or with swordfish, or, more traditionally, just with crumbs of bread. You will love them whole as an appetizer or lovingly laid on beautiful fillets of fried cod, placed on crostini paired with a cream of pecorino or combined with potatoes. But don’t hold back your imagination, once you taste the red gold of Pollino, you will find a thousand combinations to bring it to the table. And if creativity is lacking, don’t despair, take a handful of peppers and dip them in hot oil. Before you even have time to desire them, they will already be ready; sprinkle them lightly with salt and crush these crunchy clouds while imagining the warm lands of southern Italy.
