419
Florence is a
village
PECORINO, PARSLE Y, AND
ANCHOV Y SANDWICHES
Adapted from Casa del Vino
Serves 4
Active: 15 min. • Total: 35 min.
2 cups Italian parsley leaves (from
about 1 bunch), minced
6 garlic cloves, minced (2 Tbsp.)
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
16 anchovies in oil
¼–½ cup extra-virgin olive oil
4 oz. pecorino cheese, thinly sliced
(about 8 slices)
4 small crusty sandwich rolls, halved
crosswise- In a medium bowl, add the pars-
ley, garlic, and a pinch each salt and
pepper; stir well. Gently stir in the
anchovies and the olive oil, start-
ing with ¼ cup oil and adding more
as needed to saturate the parsley (it
should be shiny and moist but not
runny). Let rest 30 minutes. - When ready to serve, distribute
the sliced pecorino atop the bottom
halves of the rolls, followed by the
parsley mixture and anchovies. Top
with the other halves of the rolls.
only a few hundred thousand people
actually live in Florence, but an annual
influx of 16 million tourists impose a big-
city clamor. Despite the sea of plastic mini
Davids and selfie stick–toting foreigners, it’s
still the same compact hamlet whose streets
Dante and Michelangelo once wandered.
Just how magical and serendipitous
this city can be was revealed to me one day
shortly before lunchtime, when I returned
to Casa del Vino in search of sandwiches.
At that early hour, only one other patron
was present. Of all the humans on this
planet, that other person turned out to
be my younger brother Michael, who was
coincidentally passing through on his way
back home from India, where he’d been
researching his Ph.D. Neither of us knew
the other would be in Florence. The occa-
sion called for a celebratory glass of Bartolo
Mascarello’s freisa (a spritzy, leggermente
frizzante monument to the traditional
Piedmontese viticulture barely available
in North America; Casa del Vino offers it
for 13 euros a bottle). This in turn led to
food, which then led to more wine, which of
course led to more food, as usually happens
here, even at noon.
We started with the house special: alici
con burro. Nothing more than a pat of Tus-
can butter and anchovy fillets on a little
soft roll, its simplicity is also a creation of
wisdom and happiness and, ultimately,
serenity. Who needs anything more? What
better way can a person possibly spend a
single euro? It was so good we each ordered
a second one. Then came some crostini
with herring, marinated carrots, and cel-
ery, followed by a porchetta schiacciata
topped with pickled onions and salsa verde.
“Madonna!” enthused my brother, wav-
ing his fingers around in an appropriately
Ita lia nate way.
As we ate, we compared notes on
the best things each of us had eaten inbutcher twine. Transfer to a roasting
rack set in a high-sided roasting pan
(if the belly does not fit around the
entire loin, be sure the largest piece of
the belly is facing the top of the oven).
- Roast until the skin looks firm and
the ends of pork look cooked, 2 hours
15 minutes. Raise the heat to 425° and
cook, basting the skin once with the
drippings halfway through, until the
skin is well browned and a thermome-
ter inserted into the center of the loin
registers 145–150°, about 1 hour. - Meanwhile, make the marinated
onions: In a large bowl, combine the
onions and vinegar. Let rest, stirring
occasionally, until the onions soften,
1 hour or up to overnight. When ready
to serve, stir in the olive oil. - Make the salsa verde: In a large
bowl, stir the bread crumbs and red
wine vinegar. Add the parsley, olive
oil, capers, anchovies, eggs (if using),
and garlic, and stir to combine. - Remove the porchetta and let rest
15 minutes before slicing into thin (½-
to 1-inch-thick) slices. - Spread some of the salsa verde
onto the bottom half of each sand-
wich roll. Top with the porchetta
slices and marinated onions to taste.
Papa rozzi, a dapper gentleman who sports
a silver cinghiale ( boar) tie clip. As tal-
ented as he is with venison, he also excels
at seafood sandwiches—a pleasant sur-
prise in a region so far from the sea—the
best of which contains marinated ancho-
vies, orange slices, chile peppers, and
thinly shaved puntarelle. It both defied and
re defined my expectations of Tuscan food.