Last week on a press trip to Parma - the details to feature on The Culinary Guide and Selectism - I tried as ever to eat things that seemed rooted rather than the product of a cheffy imagination. It has to be said that Parma is a great place to carry out such searches.
The most memorable of the dishes digested on the all too brief trip was anolini in brodo, which was gloriously simple and second-helping moreish: curved and rather cute little ravioli filled with Parmesan, served in a broth that reflected the care of the kitchen and respect for the dish's origins.
The representative of the Parmesan Consorzio with us at the restaurant said it was a beef broth, but I remain convinced that this was chicken, with the depth added by the generous use of vegetables including celery. Generous but not overwhelming. It had loads of flavour, but at the same time was restrained, nothing bullied its way to the front (hence the debate, beef or chicken).
The representative of the Parmesan Consorzio with us at the restaurant said it was a beef broth, but I remain convinced that this was chicken, with the depth added by the generous use of vegetables including celery. Generous but not overwhelming. It had loads of flavour, but at the same time was restrained, nothing bullied its way to the front (hence the debate, beef or chicken).
For the first bowlful I followed instructions and added Parmesan aplenty (the cheese one of the reasons for the trip), but more was less, so for the second only a few diplomatic strands were lobbed in. I haven't made my own pasta in ages, but this has prompted me to do so again. Making pasta is one of those things like making your own bread, and producing a good stock from bones and a few veg - the cost is negligible except in time, and the reward in flavour is great.
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