A couple of years ago, my brother took me to this place off the hustle and bustle of Termini train station in Rome. I was on the way to the airport for a flight back to New York and looking for something to get to avoid having to eat the dreaded airplane food. Termini is tourist and immigrant center in Rome. One does not normally get good or authentic food anywhere near there. But this little spot has obviously been there a long time. Er Porchetta it was called, and it had just three tiny tables squeezed in to the tiny space. It was nine o'clock in the morning and one table was occupied by a train or bus conductor. He was having a morning "merenda" of sliced tomatoes and anchovies and a nice refreshing glass of white wine. In the front was a glass case with a porchetta in it and in the back a small service counter with a small refrigerator behind. The place was maybe 150 square feet in all and such a slice of old Rome. Porchetta is a passion of mine and something to always eat greedily in Italy since you didn't find it in the States. I've always loved minimalist eating places. I was amazed by the women in Vietnam who carried a street stall with them on a pole. Table and chairs at one end, cooking utensils and food at the other. You could hail them like you do a cab in other cities. They set down the baskets, set up the table and chairs and their cooking station and whip you up something incredible to eat. I spent a long hot week alone in Pnomh Penh, watching this guy in utter fascination he had a table on the side walk with two woks, one with water, one with oil. A little mise en place on one side, a little mise en place on the other a fridge behind and there again he cooked up the most amazing dishes effortlessly. Other chefs dream of thousand square feet kitchens with brass and enamel ranges, copper saute pans, every gleaming piece of kitchen equipment available and an army of cooks working in perfect synchronization. Me? I'm dreaming of that little tiny place, with just one or two people, just making one little dish, hand crafted every time. And so the idea for Porchetta was germinated, perhaps I could do this in New York, wouldn't need alot of space, no one does it.....
A couple of years ago, my brother took me to this place off the hustle and bustle of Termini train station in Rome. I was on the way to the airport for a flight back to New York and looking for something to get to avoid having to eat the dreaded airplane food. Termini is tourist and immigrant center in Rome. One does not normally get good or authentic food anywhere near there. But this little spot has obviously been there a long time. Er Porchetta it was called, and it had just three tiny tables squeezed in to the tiny space. It was nine o'clock in the morning and one table was occupied by a train or bus conductor. He was having a morning "merenda" of sliced tomatoes and anchovies and a nice refreshing glass of white wine. In the front was a glass case with a porchetta in it and in the back a small service counter with a small refrigerator behind. The place was maybe 150 square feet in all and such a slice of old Rome. Porchetta is a passion of mine and something to always eat greedily in Italy since you didn't find it in the States. I've always loved minimalist eating places. I was amazed by the women in Vietnam who carried a street stall with them on a pole. Table and chairs at one end, cooking utensils and food at the other. You could hail them like you do a cab in other cities. They set down the baskets, set up the table and chairs and their cooking station and whip you up something incredible to eat. I spent a long hot week alone in Pnomh Penh, watching this guy in utter fascination he had a table on the side walk with two woks, one with water, one with oil. A little mise en place on one side, a little mise en place on the other a fridge behind and there again he cooked up the most amazing dishes effortlessly. Other chefs dream of thousand square feet kitchens with brass and enamel ranges, copper saute pans, every gleaming piece of kitchen equipment available and an army of cooks working in perfect synchronization. Me? I'm dreaming of that little tiny place, with just one or two people, just making one little dish, hand crafted every time. And so the idea for Porchetta was germinated, perhaps I could do this in New York, wouldn't need alot of space, no one does it.....
1 comment:
aah, porchetta...i like how special it looks in the glass case, like an edible object d'art.
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