aromatic base alongside garlic and rosemary before the
chickpeas, tomato purée and a little macaroni are added.
In Tuscany, the soup is rarely cooked without a substantial
dose of diced pancetta and a soffritto of carrot, celery and
onion. By the time you reach Milan, chickpea soup has
become positively sybaritic, with a good quantity of
pancetta and vegetables, a shredded pig’s head, a quantity
of butter and fresh herbs all enriching the mix. Each of
these soups is a deep, tomato homage to the chickpea.
When Alastair Little started running a cooking school
in Orvieto, he immersed himself in the gastronomic
culture and was not seen for months. When he resurfaced,
his greatest enthusiasm was for this chickpea soup, a
richly flavoured Tuscan version. At the time I confess I was
a little puzzled: although a good dish, it was, in the end,
just a simple soup. I was wrong. It is a remarkably subtle
and satisfying dish, and getting the balance of flavours and
the cooking of the pasta just right does require a small
degree of concentration. This is a simple version with no
meat at all, perfect for these Lenten days.
47
February
PASTA E CECI
Cooking the chickpeas yourself is preferable both
economically and on grounds of taste, but if you want to
make this a storecupboard standby there are excellent
bottled or tinned chickpeas available, which allow this recipe
to be made in 25 minutes: you’ll need about 1kg (2lb 4oz).
Serves six to eight.
500g (1lb 2oz) dried
chickpeas
1 large red chilli
a few sprigs of rosemary
50ml (13⁄4fl oz) olive oil
1 large onion, peeled and
very finely chopped
1 carrot, peeled and very
finely chopped
1 celery stick, very finely
chopped
3 garlic cloves, peeled and
very finely chopped
200g (7oz) canned chopped
tomatoes, best quality
available
1 small teaspoon salt
1 small teaspoon golden
caster sugar
1 teaspoon chilli flakes
300g (10½oz) small soup
pasta (macceroncini,
ditalini, maruzzini,
tubettini, etc.)
freshly ground black pepper
50g (13⁄4oz) Parmesan or
Pecorino cheese, finely
grated, to serve
Rinse the chickpeas in cold water, removing the very small
and hard ones and any bits that float to the surface, and
soak in a large volume of cold water overnight.
The next day, drain the chickpeas, place in a saucepan,
cover with fresh water and bring to the boil, skimming off
any scum that rises to the surface. Turn the heat down,
add the chilli and rosemary and simmer, without salt, for
a couple of hours until tender, topping up with water if
necessary. Once cooked, remove from the heat and allow
the chickpeas to cool in their liquid.
Heat a deep, heavy, flameproof casserole dish with the
olive oil, then add the onion, carrot, celery and garlic and
gently soften for 10 minutes before adding the tomatoes.
Season with the salt, sugar, a good grinding of black
pepper and the chilli flakes. Add the chickpeas and
enough of their liquor to keep them afloat and simmer
for 10 minutes.
Making sure there is enough liquid to cook the pasta,
add it to the soup and continue to cook for 8–10 minutes
until the pasta is al dente. The finished soup should have
just enough liquid to cover the pasta and chickpeas, but
no more. Check the seasoning and serve with the grated
cheese alongside.
WINE: There is no restriction on what to drink here, the
rich, suave flavours being savoury and unaggressive.
Simple, youthful wines with good acidity would be ideal.
If I must plump for one, let it be for an aromatic but robust
Central Italian white such as Fiano d’Avellino, Pecorino or
Greco di Tufo. That said, a young red would do just as well.
48
Observing Liturgical Rhythm
Oeufs en Meurette
‘Surely this recipe could be made simpler. The constant
heating, cooling and reheating especially makes no sense
with coddled eggs’ commented a reader. He was right. The
original recipe called for seven different pans. I have cut it
down to four, which still seems a lot for a simple peasant
dish but there you go: good cooking can be a long and
messy business.
At Lent, I climb once again on to my wagon and
abstain from alcohol. At Le Café Anglais we run a special
menu that follows the path of virtue and features the
burgeoning roots, shoots and leaves of the season, and we
try to eschew fats and carbohydrates. If I tell people that I
adhere to some form of Lenten abstention I am generally
asked if I am a Christian or, more particularly, a Roman
Catholic. I am, in fact, an unbaptised heathen, but I like
to observe the liturgical rhythm of the seasons because
they make sense. After all, no one questions our sense of
religion when we tell them that we intend to celebrate
Christmas or if we want a leg of lamb on Easter Sunday.
My observance of Lent takes a minor