There is endless debate as to how to create the perfect ragu. Should it be made with beef, pork or...
Let us start by stating the obvious, Italians cannot have a drink without a snack of some form. Whether that is something as simple a big bowl of crisps, some taralli and olives or a full aperitivo, we just know that we need something to accompany our multiple glasses of wine. This is particularly the case in the Veneto, where the art of the cicchetto has been honed to a fine art. Whatever bar you go into, no matter how small, there is always a bountiful counter of ‘snacks’. More often than not, these make up a piece of baguette with a topping. These can be as creative or traditional as you wish: anything goes.
There is no simple way of saying this, but if Baccala Mantecato isn’t among the (often handwritten) signs, then something is wrong. The sight of the white creamy yet flaky mixture has something a bit disconcertingly comforting about it. Maybe it is the way that the white is so pure, or the texture in the mouth or the satisfying bite to it, but to be honest so many from the Veneto are putty in the hands of Baccala Mantecato. We might confess that it has counted as breakfast on more than one occasion: milk, bread and protein make it a valid choice, no?
What is special about Baccala Mantecato? It is kind of hard to put a finger on it. In a way, it is so ingrained into the heritage of the Veneto that that is what makes it so impossible to avoid. Its earliest records date back to the 1400s when dried white fish was first introduced to Venice as a result of the naval aspirations of the Venetian empire. A ship helmed by Pietro Querini was caught off course on its route from Crete to Flanders during a storm that led to it being marooned near Norway, the surviving mariners had to find a way to integrate with the locals until they were able to resume their journey back to their beloved Serenissima. And no surprise, but that medium was through food. Through the locals, they were introduced to the local method of preserving white fish, especially cod, on wooden racks known as Hjell, in order to get enough food in stock (pun not intended) to get them through the long winter months.
Querini was clearly a fan of this preserved fish for he took it back to Venice with him once the ship was finally back on the waters. Unsurprisingly, it was a success back on the Lagoon given that the city is surrounded by water where there is ample opportunity to catch the type of fish needed to create ‘stoccafisso’. Now, you might be wondering what the difference is between stockfish and conventional cod (or Baccala). And it is a simple one even if the reasoning is a little illogical. Basically, stockfish is known as Baccala in the Veneto and signifies a white fish air dried without salt, while in the rest of Italy, salt is a key ingredient.
What is less known through is that this dish didn’t remain on its own little island. Baccala Mantecato made it off the Venetian causeway and took on another life on the terraferma. The greatest change was in Vicenza where they made sufficient changes to the recipe to give it its own name and to claim it as their civic speciality. The only way forward with such a simple recipe was to add more ingredients… In Vicenza this solution was a melange of onions, anchovies and an aged cheese, often Parmesan, to create a dish that has a richer texture and in turn most popular as a winter dish. In fact, the difference between Baccala Mantecato and Baccala Vicentina is enough to demonstrate how important the simple paste is to the diverse food heritage of the Veneto.
That’s the thing. The classic Venetian recipe has been around for so long that over the years each and every home cook or chef has wanted to put their own stamp on the recipe to make it their own. Whether that is varying the amount of milk added to the mix to make it creamier, others keep the flakes larger so it is more meaty and some add a good dose of black pepper to give it a little kick. Whatever you do, do not make the mistake of thinking that all Baccala Mantecatos are the same. This is more than obvious on a quick tour of the Baccari of Venice, a cicchetto here, and another there, and its pretty easy to establish a favourite (one of ours is at Un Mondo Divino where they make it on site and serve it up alongside some freshly grilled bread). Any other favourites of yours?
At Passione Vino, we equally have our own method that we believe is the ‘right way’. Debates left to the end, please. In our kitchen, chef Paskal prepares it in the Proper Way: and that means a lengthy process in which time is of the essence. The hard dried fish is stripped from the bone and then cut into pieces that are then left to soak for a three days with the water changed multiple times. Finally then comes the ‘manteca’; the whipping up with milk and olive oil until it is the right texture. And then, when it is served with fried polenta, it is pure perfection.