gabriele bonci cooks {campania felix}

Between Facebook and Twitter, I hear about a lot of ‘special’ meals around town. And by ‘special’, I mean events that have been organized on a Monday or Tuesday night to fill up an otherwise empty restaurant or enoteca. Sometimes these events are just silly (Natural wines from the Easter Ukraine paired with cave-aged ewe cheese from Uzbekistan) (Ok, I made that up, but you get the idea).

Other times the events sound truly wonderful and delicious But it’s gonna have to be beyond wonderful and delicious to get me out on a Monday or Tuesday in the middle of winter. Plus, when I attend a meal that’s not on the ordinary menu, then there’s not a lot I can do with it. It can’t go in the app. And I feel badly writing about it here, since the restaurants rarely play a repeat performance.

But I broke two of my rules last week. I went out on a Monday. And I’m going to make you crazy by telling you about a meal you’ll mostly likely never get a chance to taste.

Sorry.

Amid all the stuff that scrolls by on FB, it’s hard to focus on what matters. One thing I’ve learned, is that when there is something even vaguely connected with Gabriele Bonci, I should listen. So when I read that he as cooking a ‘special’ meal at Open Baladin, I signed up in about two seconds. Even before I had completely read what the thing was all about.

Turns out I was lucky I did. The dinner sold out in  a day, and they had to expand it from 25 people to 100.

Why? The perfect storm of meals. Not only was Bonci (who doesn’t have his own restaurant) doing the cooking, all of his ingredients were coming straight from a farm in Campania. Since I know Gabriele’s devotion to only the best, most incredible ingredients, the quality was assured. Then, to wash it all down, the incredible craft beers from Maltovivo, a small brewery in Campania. 

While I  did do my research on Maltovivo,   I couldn’t find out much about Campania Felix online before the dinner. As it turns out it’s such a small operation – a guy who loves his village and his family’s farm – that there just isn’t much to find out. After practicing law for a few years Massimiliano Panella decided that instead of  spending his time in court, he’d much rather be back in his village near Benevento, helping to promote the people and products he loves. With this in mind he introduced himself – and his produce – to Bonci.

The result? This dinner. Using some of the most incredible raw ingredients I’ve tasted in quite a while.

We started out simply, with two of the cheeses that Campania is known for: mozzarella and cacciocavallo. Two types of mozzarella – one cow and buffala. Each very different in taste and texture, each perfect. The aged cacciocavalo made from raw milk and aged for six months was one of those extremely simple – yet extraordinary – cheeses that you come upon so rarely. Just the right amount of sharpness, yet full and buttery and resonant of the land it came from. Accompanying it was our first beer of the evening, Tscho’!, a Koelsch, which paired perfectly.

As at many of these ‘special’ dinners, there was a didactic portion of the evening to enjoy as well. While Gabriele and Massimo told us all about the ingredients and their transformation as they made their way out from the kitchen, Paolo Mazzola (Rome’s resident beer professor) and Luigi Serpe (the owner of Maltovivo), expounded on the beers poured.

But back to the food. Next up was a ‘panino’. Only Gabriele Bonci and his over-sized imagination would call the hugely satisfying burger that came out of the kitchen a mere paninio. It was an incredible orchestration of one-of-a-kind ingredients worthy of being a meal in and of itself. The meat was 100% pork, from a variety of black pig – nero casertano – raised  exclusively in that area of Campania. Although a lot of pork burgers can be disappointing – over cooked or tough – this one had more than it’s fair share of fat to render it tender, and (I don’t know how they did it for 100 diners) it was cooked pitch perfect to medium rare as it should be. Nestled in between two Bonci buns that were encrusted with fennel and wild carrot seeds, the condiments included ‘ketchup’ crafted from yellow tomatoes vine dried over the summer and broccoli rabe picked just hours before in the frosty fields of Campania. The final addition: a melting of the aged cacciocavalo. With it we drank my favorite beer of the night, Noscia, an Indian Pale Ale.

Although this porky magnificence would have been enough to satisfy any of us, the meal continued. A heavenly bean soup was up next, made from a tiny white bean (fagioli di Castelpoto) that Massimo’s mother has received as part of her dowry when she married. Miniscule and without any tough skin, it produced a silky, earthy puree on top of which Gabriele added pan fried chunks of locally made sausage ground with the region’s famous hot peppers. A drizzle of bright green fruity olive oil and a scattering of crunchy bread crumbs had us all moaning.

Yes. Most of us were pretty full at this point. But the main course was yet to come. A padellaccia di maile “Tiana”, or pork stew. Although it looked to be the simplest of the dishes that evening, it was – and I’ll say it right here – the most incredible pork stew I’ve ever had. Again, meltingly tender meat (the same nero casertano) raised locally, free range and fed on local grains, slowly cooked in a sauce made from those sun dried tomatoes and hot peppers. The inky  Black Lizard we drank with it was the perfect combo.

During the entire dinner both Gabriele and Massimo kept referring to the big surprise that was waiting for us at the end of the meal. Since I had spied the bottle of mosto cotto (cooked grape juice) on the display table of products, I envisioned some old fashioned Italian sweet covered in oozzy, gooey syrup.

What I was totally unprepared for was the arrival of a small truck at the entrance to the restaurant. Massimo pulled open the doors, and out came a crate full of fresh snow,  gathered from high in the hills of Campania an hour previously. Yes. We had mosto-covered snow for dessert. Which, it turns out, is 100% traditional. “What? You think my grandparent had refrigeration?” explained Massimo.

While it might be hard to collect the long list of the ingredients that helped make this meal so memorable, you might be able to recreate this snowy delight. Here’s a source for mosto (not Massimo’s but pretty close). And the snow? Well, we weren’t having any trouble sourcing that ingredient in Rome last week. 
















Open Baladin – to keep up with their special events follow them on Facebook.
Campania Felix – For more information contact Massimiliano Panella