2 hours ago
5
It’s 10.30am and steam carrying the smell of onions, beans, cabbage and braised meat escapes from the kitchen in the corner of box 37 on Testaccio market. In the small kitchen is Leonardo Cioni, a tall chef from San Giovanni Valdarno, midway between Florence and Arezzo, who, for the past three-and-a-half years, has run box 37 as Sicché Roba Toscana, which roughly translates as “therefore Tuscan stuff”. The escaping steam is effective advertising, leading eyes to the blackboard above the counter to discover exactly what is going on in the back.
Always on the menu is lampredotto. The fourth stomach of the cow and the most tender, delicate tripe, lampredotto looks like a damp dishcloth crossed with a heavily ruffled shirt. It is prepared by simmering it in broth made from onion, carrot, celery, tomatoes, parsley and basil for about an hour and a half, then seasoned with salt and pepper, and served in a roll, maybe with a spoonful of salsa verde. Also made daily by Leo, and many times over, are trays of torta di ceci, a baked chickpea flour pancake much like farinata that is sandwiched in a flatbread called schiaccia, which can also be filled with salumi or cheese. The rest of the menu changes daily, but always includes a bean dish, at least one legume and vegetable soup (often thickened with polenta or bread), some sort of long-braised stew and maybe a ragu.
It was the steam from ragu di capocollo that caught my attention a couple of months ago. So much so that we, Bisto kids in middle-aged bodies, returned an hour and a half later and sat at the multicoloured tiled counter to order it: dense, succulent and with a red-tinted, oily halo, and served on small potato gnocchi.
Capocollo (pork neck), which is also known as pork collar or pork neck fillet, comes from the upper part of the pig’s shoulder, an area naturally and generously marbled with fat. It is this marbled combination of flesh and fat that contributes to the succulence of this particular ragu, as well as to the ragu’s ability not only to stand up to but to benefit from three powerful herbs: bay, sage and rosemary. What also struck me about Leo’s version is that he uses minced capocollo, as opposed to braising a whole joint then shredding the meat at the end – which is also great, but I prefer the texture that mince produces. Alternatively, you could mix leaner cuts with back bacon – the key is a generous amount of fat.
Pork ragu with herbs (for gnocchi or pasta)
Serves 4
400g pork mince, ideally well-marbled with fat, so neck, shoulder or jowl)
3-4 tbsp olive oil
1 medium onion, or three shallots, peeled and finely diced
2 bay leaves
2 sage leaves
2 sprigs of rosemary; 1 leaves picked and minced, 1 left whole
Salt
1 small glass dry white wine
400g tin plum tomatoes, crushed or passed though a food mill
1 tbsp tomato concentrate
500g potato gnocchi, or fresh pappardelle
Grated parmesan, or grana padano
Working in a heavy-based pan or casserole on a medium-low heat, fry the minced pork in olive oil, moving it around the pan until it has lost all pinkness. Add the onion, bay, sage, minced and whole rosemary, and a pinch of salt, and continue cooking (and stirring) until the onion is translucent.
Add the white wine, leave it to bubble for a minute or two, then add the tinned tomatoes, tomato concentrate, another small pinch of salt and a small glass of warm water. Half-cover the pan with a lid and turn down the heat so the ragu simmers gently for two hours. Check and stir every now and then, adding another small glass of warm water if the contents of the pan seem at all dry. By the end of cooking, the ragu should be dense but succulent with an oily halo.
Cook the gnocchi (or pasta) in plenty of well-salted, boiling water, then lift into a warm bowl. Add a spoonful of finely grated parmesan or grana padano, toss, then add half the ragu and toss again. Divide between four plates or shallow bowls and top with more ragu and more cheese, if you wish.
