My friend Armando

In my campaign to be more culinary competent for the next big step in my life, my father came to the rescue at Christmas with a very handy gift in the form of a recipe book. I had suspected that Armando Percuoco of the legendary Buon Ricordo Italian restaurant in Sydney was originally from southern Italy, if not Naples. Luckily though, I escaped northern Italian prejudice for long enough to read the recipe book and the recipes, and be inspired to know that they will work just as well in my northern Italian home with my northern Italian (prejudiced) fiancé.

As it turns out, my fiancé is so impressed with the recipes and my first baby steps in making them, he refuses to believe my friend Armando is from Naples (impossibile! He must be a northerner). I have put it down to the steadying influence of Australia, and am anyway pleased to say that Armando is a man who loves Australia and Australian produce.

In honour of Armando’s southern Italian origins though, the first recipe I made was that for his napoletana sauce. I ignored the fact it is still winter and he recommends making it only in summer with fresh, sweet tomatoes, or otherwise using tinned tomatoes. I bought fresh tomatoes, sticking to Italian hot houses, and it still turned out better than tinned tomato pasta sauce. I even used garlic.

The second and third recipes though, were the real winners in the house. A kind of aperitif snack with red chicory is perfect for the season, and combined with prosciutto crudo and mozzarella (my addition), has fast become my fiancé’s favourite and only homemade happy hour snack.

That was followed by two beef fillets and Armando’s fiorentina sauce with beef stock and balsamic vinegar. I don’t have proper beef stock, but I do have proper balsamic vinegar – the slightly expensive stuff although it’s still a supermarket purchase. I did thicken this with a little flour and ended up with a couple of lumps, but it was still lovely. What’s more my Anglo roots have come through and been accepted by my fiancé in the most unlikely form of Brussels sprouts.

This is totally out of left field because first of all they are green and my fiancé generally doesn’t eat anything green, and secondly “cavolini” in Italian rhymes with “caccolini” which means ‘little shits’, or something to that effect. They have become his new favourite vegetable, although I have been told not to go telling anyone he eats them. So just for the record, I’m putting it here on my blog. My mum has also furnished me with another way to cook them – sliced in butter with a little salt and pepper – which I think could be more appreciated than boiled. Thank you Mum!