(for Enligsh version swipe down)

RIBOLLITA

Toskanska enolončnica iz daljnega spomina

V Toskano sem se kakih deset let tega odpravila z dvema prijateljicama. Mateja, ki je študirala arhitekturo, je morala za določen predmet nabrati kar nekaj skic zanimivih stavb, in v iskanju le-teh sva se ji z Niko pridružili na poti v Firence. Zares smo se imele lepo, uživale smo italijanski gellato, pile Chianti in raziskovale starodavno mesto. Kaj je bilo moje največje odkritje? Ribollita, nedvomno. Nekega dne smo se usedle v oštarijo, kjer za vegetarijance niso imeli popolnoma ničesar na meniju, razen te goste enolončnice s kruhom, fižolom, paradižnikom in sirom. Prva žlica me je dobesedno popeljala v nebesa. V nebesa, o katerih sem sanjala zadnjih deset let in vse dokler se nisem odločila, da naredim svojo verzijo ribolitte. Nekaj dni tega sem namreč gledala Corellijevo mandolino, in ob gledanju tistih prepevajočih, zabavnih, sproščenih italijanskih vojakih sem vedela, da je prišel čas za malo Italije na krožniku. Ker, saj veste, če ne gre Tamara v Toskano, pride Toskana na Kozino.

5 žlic oljčnega olja

7 lovorovih listov

velik ščep timijana

1 velika čebula

4 stroki česna

¼ srednje velike gomoljne zelene (ali ½ stebelne)

3 večji korenčki

3 krompirji

1 srednje velika bučka

5 listov ohrovta (ali špinača ali blitva)

3 šalice belega fižola (tradicionalno uporabljajo sorto Canellini)

1 namočen datelj

1 konzerva (400g) paradižnikove mezge ali pelatov

sol in poper po okusu

1 rezina suhega kruha ali prepečenca

Ko postrežemo:

pinjole

sir/ kvasni kosmiči

kruh, na kocke narezan in popečen

limona

Fižol namočimo večer poprej in skuhamo do mehkega preden se lotimo ribollite. Lahko seveda uporabite samo beli fižol, kot to storijo v Toskani, jaz pa sem poleg njega zavoljo barvitosti uporabila še adzuki fižol in čičeriko.

Na srednjem ognju segrejemo oljčno olje in na njem popražimo začimbe. Dodamo narezano čebulo in čez kako minuto ali dve še česen. Zeleno, korenček, krompir in bučko narežemo na drobne kocke in dodamo v kozico. Nato na drobne trakce narežemo ohrovt, datelj pa na drobno nasekljamo, ter oba dodamo zelenjavi. Dušimo med konstantnim mešanjem. Če namesto ohrovta uporabimo špinačo ali blitvo, ju dodamo čisto na koncu preden postrežemo. Ko je zelenjava dodobra podušena, zalijemo z jušno osnovo ali vodo ter kuhamo do mehkega. Šele nato juhi dodamo paradižnikovo mezgo ali pelate (poleti lahko uporabimo tudi svež paradižnik, ki ga pa dodamo šele potem, ko je krompir kuhan) in približno tretjino mase zmešamo z ročnim mešalnikom. Enolončnici dodamo odcejen fižol po izbiri in v drobtine mleti suh kruh, ter pustimo, da se kruh napije. Po potrebi dodamo še jušne osnove ali vode, sicer pa je ribollita izvorno precej gosta.

Popražimo pinjole, naribamo sir, če ga bomo uporabili (jaz sem uporabila veganskega) in nakockamo ter popečemo kruh. Vse troje potresemo po ribolliti, ki smo jo naložili v skledice. Nato stisnemo še malce limoninega soka, polijemo z nekaj oljčnega olja, ter uživamo v tej slastni iznajdbi srednjeveških kmetov, ko so svojim mineštram od prejšnjega dne za malo drugačno jed dodajali kruh.

***

Pazljivo, ker se zavedam, da Svarun ne mara packastih, kašastih, predvsem pa »zblojenih« jedi, ga vprašam, ko predano pospravlja s svojega krožnika: »Svarun, a ti je všeč ta juha?«

»Ja, ful mi je dobra,« pove in me niti ne pogleda, tako je zaposlen z zajemanjem nove kruhove kocke.

Tudi vam bo, boste videli. Ker je zelo žlahtna – in hkrati tako preprosta.

RIBOLLITA

Tuscan stew from a distant memory

About ten years ago me and my two best friends went to Tuscany. Mateja, who was a student of architecture, needed to come up with quite some schetches of interesting building, while Nika and I always needed a break from the hardships of a student life, so the three of us packed our bags and took the train to Florence. We had a really nice time. We ate gellato, drank Chianti and found ourselves lost all the time in the tiny streets of the old town. My biggest find, though? Ribollita, without a doubt. I was literally forced to order this bread, beans, potato and cheese stew one day at a restaurant that didn’t serve any other vegetarian dish. The first spoonfool then paved my way to heaven, a heaven I would be dreaming about for the next decade, but never really taking the fuss to recreate it. But then a few days ago, as I watched the opera-singing italian soldiers in Capitain Corelli’s mandolin, I felt the urge to have some Italy on my plate – and in my belly.  

5 Tbsp olive oil

7 bay leaves

1 tsp thyme

1 big onion

4 cloves of garlic

¼ big celery root (or ½ stalk)

3 big carrots

3 potatoes

1 zucchini

5 leaves kale (or spinach or chard)

3 cups white beans (Canellini beans are used traditionally)

1 soaked date

1 can (400g) tomato sauce

salt and pepper to taste

1 slice of dry bread, crumbled

To serve:

pine nuts

cheese or nutritional yeast

Bread, cubed and toasted

lemon

Soak beans overnight, rinse in the morning and cook until done. You can only use white beans, as they do in Tuscany, or you could replace part of the beans with pulse of your choice. The sky is the limit. I, for example, replaced one cup of white beans with half cup chickpeas and half cup adzuki beans.

Heat olive oil on low temperature and fry the spices. Add chopped oninos, and in a minute’s time, chopped garlic. Cube celery, carrots, potatoes and zucchini and add to pot. Add salt and pepper. Cut the kale leaves into thin slices and chop the date, and add them to pot. If you use spinach or chard instead of kale, don’t add now, but rather just before serving. Simmer over medium heat while stirring. When the vegetables are soft, add broth or water and cook until done. Add tomatoes (in the summer you can use fresh tomatoes insted, but don’t forget to add them when the potatoes are done) and blend about a third of the soup. Add beans and crumbled bread and let it soak. If you need to, add more broth or water, but ribollita is supposed to be quite thick.

Roast pine nuts, grate the cheese, if you’re using (I used vegan cheese), cube and toast bread. Place the soup in pots, sprinkle all of the toppings upon, and add a squeeze of lemon juice and a dash of olive oil. Oh, and enjoy in this delicious invention of the peasants from the middle ages, who decided to put some bread into their day-old minestrone soup, you know, for a twist.

***

Carefully, because I am aware of the fact the he detests sloppy and all mix-everything-together dishes, I ask: »Svarun, do you like this soup?«

»Yes, I love it,« he says without looking at me, so consumed is he into positioning the next bread cube onto his spoon.

You will like it too, you’ll see. Because its easiness goes along well with its richness.

(Svarun took this last photo + I like the shades)