Corso 32 chef/owner Daniel Costa describes some of his favourite places in Italy for food and family.

Rome

“I love Rome because there are so many quick pastas, and they all do them in a classic way — it’s not necessarily creative, but they really stick to tradition. The city is fast, the food is fast — not as many long-braised ragus as the small towns in the countryside.

“They’re making a really quick sauce — a little bit of guanciale, a little bit of black pepper, a bit of pecorino (alla romano, hard and salty) — that’s bucatini alla gricia. Add a bit of egg and it becomes carbonara. All the different variations of very simple pastas and they all taste great.

“I was in a cab and asked the driver, ‘where’s the best cacio e pepe?’ He got very angry all of a sudden, he wasn’t looking at the road, and went on a rant about how nobody made it the right way anymore. He was waving his hands and saying ‘people put butter in it, when I order cacio e pepe, I want cacio e pepe, not a butter sauce.’ I don’t think he even told us what restaurant to go to after all that.
He was so mad.

“I’m also obsessed with Fellini and those old ‘60’s films. Being in Rome is like walking around in a museum eating all these amazing pastas.”

“Filetti di Baccala is, basically, a little hole-in-the-wall with a sign. They have three things: antipasti, fried zucchini and baccala. You order that with Frascati or a big beer. You can eat inside, but it’s so hot and bright, outside is better — lots of tables in the piazza next to the church or order a piece of baccala to go.

“They’ve been making baccala since 1901. There are three women in the back working, preparing the fish, pretty much nonnes with their hats on.

“The batter is unbelievable, beautiful soft and silky fish surrounded by a thick and crunchy batter — perfect batter.

“It’s a really good Roman experience.”

“There’s a beautiful square in Trastevere. It’s the best place to people watch, with lots of little restaurants. I like to sit at a table outside a bar and bury a couple of Negronis in the afternoon.

“People from Trastevere say ‘we are the true Romans, not the people across the river, we’re the originals.’ So passionate, they are talking about 10 minutes away.

“My favourite place is Salumeria Roscioli. I’ve been there about five times — it’s the best products in all of Italy crammed in this little place — wine, salumi…

“Our best experience so far was downstairs in the wine cellar with Megan and my sister and her husband. We had a tasting of pastas, mortadella with grated grana, prosciutto, agretti in season. There’s a bunch of brothers and many different Roscioli. Il Forno (bakery) is next door to the salumeria, near Campo di Fiori.

“One thing that everybody should try to experience in Rome is offal, called il quinto quarto (fifth quarter). Rome does these kinds of dishes the best — beef cheeks, spleen, oxtail, tripe. Next time I go, I’ll be looking for a very old dish — rigatoni alla pajata — veal intestines with mother’s milk inside. They are tied and cooked slowly in a tomato sauce, an absolutely beautiful way of using what you have available.”

“Gelateria dei Gracchi is the best gelati I’ve ever had. I’m not a big gelati guy but my dad and I had one and we had to go back for another. It’s close to the coliseum — it’s the place to be.”

Cilento Coast

“My dad and I went to Scario, a small port town down the Amalfi coast about an hour away from my dad’s town.

“We went to this little restaurant called U Zifaro. It was spring and we were the only people there.

“We had a bit of fritto misto, then spaghetti vongole. With that dish, I understood the true al dente. When you eat spaghetti with shellfish there, it’s almost like eating a salad, very fresh flavours. The al dente pasta gives it a bit of a crunch. It was also the first time I tried a really good Falaghina.

“At the end of the meal, the waiter took the money, lit up a cigarette, got on the back of his friend’s Vespa, and drove away.

“That was unusual. But, when the cooks came out of the back and we asked them, they laughed and said, ‘he’s the owner!”

“Cetara is small fishing port, the town of anchovies, known for colatura di alici. Anchovies are piled inside big vats pressing the juices to make the colatura, essence of anchovies.

“There are three amazing restaurants in Cetara. Al Convento is one of these with rustic, quick cooking and bold flavours. Everything was based around anchovies — fried anchovies, anchovy melanzane, octopus salad, marinated anchovies, and a unique pasta, ziti with caramelized onions and tuna, wasn’t expecting that.

“The puttanesca in Campania is so unbelievably salty and briny, with tons of anchovies, olives, tomato, chewy capers — lots of olive oil makes a broth in the bottom of the bowl, with a sparkling Falanghina. There’s no shortage of flavour in every strand of spaghetti.”

San Pietro al Tanagro

“We went to a goat farm near San Rufo where my grandmother is from. I was going up there because I had said I wanted to learn how to make the cheese from the area, and my zio Carmine (my Italian uncle, we call him Carminuccio, because that’s what my Dad has always called him) said, ‘let’s go up to this agriturismo.’ He had gone to school with the cheesemaker, Giuseppe. (My uncle has all the food connections.) They had a lot of goats. First, they made the big rounds, then ricotta, and while the cheese was forming, Giuseppe said, ‘lets go try some milk.’

“His wife Gina had made a traditional breakfast of zuppe di latte, fresselle with hot goat milk and some coffee poured over. Fresselle is a slowly-roasted dense, hard bread.

“Gina gave us the zuppe, then snuck into the other room where she was making the pasta, cavatelli (thumbprint) and orecchiette (ear-shaped). In my dad’s area they make bigger ears than Pugliese-style.

“The first time I went to Italy, as a cook, I was 19. I stayed for three months. One time I asked my zio Carminuicco ‘I want to learn to make pasta.’ He said, ‘be at the house at 6am.’

“I had been drinking marsala and Jagermeister in the piazza the night before, so I was happy to see that they have the beautiful Bialetti stove-top coffee-maker steaming on the stove. Everybody already had on their aprons, Carmine’s mother, his mother-in-law and his wife. We were going to make the pasta for a Sunday meal in honour of my dad. They start showing me, first, putting the flour on the board. Each one had their own recipe, so there’s a little bit of back and forth: ‘put in another egg. No, no more eggs.’

“Then they asked me to knead the dough. I wasn’t at the top of my game, and I had to knead the dough for about 30 minutes. They were watching me the whole time. ‘No you have to do it like this.’ One would poke, and say, ‘you gotta stop.’ Another would poke, ‘no, it’s not ready.’ Finally, all agreed it was ready, and the bowl went on top.

“Then they started to show me how to shape the orecchiette. We made it for 25-30 people. We were all making it together. We also made fusilli (fusiddi in dialect). They each had their own tool — a bicycle spoke, a spoke from a fan, a piece of the umbrella — very much your own thing, as long as it was a nice, thin long piece of metal. It’s a wrist technique, whipping it around to make the pasta shape.

“Then cotechino, rolled-up pork skin seasoned with a bit of pecorino, parsley and garlic, slowly poached in a sugo (sauce). We had fried alici. There were whole chickens poaching, to be served with greens from the garden, the poaching broth saved for the next day. Then, a bunch of fruit. Then we made the real zeppole (similar to a sweet fritter). We eat it all in the backyard, followed by homemade nocino (black walnut liqueur). It’s made when the walnuts are green, but not under-ripe. Lemon, pepper, clove, cinnamon, simple syrup.

“I have a good recipe from a lady in Castellabate.”

Bringing down the Christ

“Every single town has their own sacred church on the mountain above the town. On the second Sunday in September it’s a mission to go up the hill to bring down the crucifix. They start early in the morning before daybreak. Then there’s a big festival. The night before there is a walk with the priest and everyone puts their candles in front of their house.

“I would climb the mountain a lot when I would spend time in San Pietro Al Tanagro. There are wild boar up there.”

Anna Maria Costa

“As a child I spent four summers with my grandmother. She called me Daniele mio (my Daniel), I called her nonna. She would make the ravioli, I would observe, I would be with her when she was in the garden. She had a great influence on my family — she was the matriarch.

“I still hear so many stories of her doing everything, carrying the big buckets of milk; the ravioli she made were so big you would only need one, with the leftover dough she would make the large orecchiette. My dad had such an appreciation of my grandmother.

All of my zias cook amazing food. Zia Lucia makes the best fried potatoes. She also has the same voice as my grandmother.”

“The whole town raises everyone, it’s a way of life. When you are doing your tomatoes, everybody’s doing the tomatoes.

“These memories, the women with kerchiefs on their heads, doing the tomatoes – that’s the inspiration behind my food.”