If gastronomy is more than taste and smell, also an art to enchant the eyes, nothing more natural than make a special place for Nigella Lawson, the prettiest thing that came into cuisine in decades. For my latest experience in the kitchen was trying a recipe I saw on Nigella Bites, one of her books. Few things can be so simple and, at the same time, so challenging. At least to me. How to avoid to end up with some sort of sponge that has spent the whole night in a pool of oil?
Hard to be easier: slices of white bread, mozzarella, one or two eggs lightly beaten with salt and pepper, milk and flower. Make sandwiches with the bread and the mozzarella, keeping the later in the middle of the slices. Sink the sandwiches into the milk quickly, pressing the borders. A quick dive in the flower, than in the eggs, and we're ready to fry it in a hot pan with a little bit oil. When that beautiful golden crust shows up you are done. Dry the sandwiches with paper towels before serving. You've got a nice carrozza when the mozzarella is trying to make its way out of the sandwich.
Where is the rocket science, you may ask? Well, making the carrozzas as dry as possible. There are three main factors in action, I believe: 1) The milk. It's the old rivalry, water and oil do not mix together. Where you got one, the other is out. 2) The crust. At least in theory, it is supposed to shield the sandwich from the dangerous invader. 3) Oil temperature. In this case, however, it is not so determinant One is not supposed to deep fry the sandwiches, just enough oil to cover the bottom of the pan will suffice. Besides, if the oil is too hot, one would get a formidable splash. Is the housekeeper coming tomorrow?
My carrozzas end up light, in spite of my fears. I used canola oil, not olive oil as Nigella had suggested. The brand I used, Purilev, looks like the fourth state of water, almost insipid.
It's easy to try some variations. Maybe some parma ham, mix some other cheese... a slice of tomato? A chilean chadornaay was the companion. Why? For those who may wander if I am some sort of Renato Machado, let I make it clear that in the heat of Porto Alegre summer you can only drink something really cool. Ideal beverage? A beer close to the freezing point.
Greetings
Hard to be easier: slices of white bread, mozzarella, one or two eggs lightly beaten with salt and pepper, milk and flower. Make sandwiches with the bread and the mozzarella, keeping the later in the middle of the slices. Sink the sandwiches into the milk quickly, pressing the borders. A quick dive in the flower, than in the eggs, and we're ready to fry it in a hot pan with a little bit oil. When that beautiful golden crust shows up you are done. Dry the sandwiches with paper towels before serving. You've got a nice carrozza when the mozzarella is trying to make its way out of the sandwich.
Where is the rocket science, you may ask? Well, making the carrozzas as dry as possible. There are three main factors in action, I believe: 1) The milk. It's the old rivalry, water and oil do not mix together. Where you got one, the other is out. 2) The crust. At least in theory, it is supposed to shield the sandwich from the dangerous invader. 3) Oil temperature. In this case, however, it is not so determinant One is not supposed to deep fry the sandwiches, just enough oil to cover the bottom of the pan will suffice. Besides, if the oil is too hot, one would get a formidable splash. Is the housekeeper coming tomorrow?
My carrozzas end up light, in spite of my fears. I used canola oil, not olive oil as Nigella had suggested. The brand I used, Purilev, looks like the fourth state of water, almost insipid.
It's easy to try some variations. Maybe some parma ham, mix some other cheese... a slice of tomato? A chilean chadornaay was the companion. Why? For those who may wander if I am some sort of Renato Machado, let I make it clear that in the heat of Porto Alegre summer you can only drink something really cool. Ideal beverage? A beer close to the freezing point.
Greetings
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