Food You Can Eat: Bocconcini

This is the the most frustrating FYCE I’ve ever attempted, because I know there’s a term in Italian for what I’m trying to describe, but google, even with adblocker deployed, is just sending me shitty, inappropriate and irrelevant spon-con. It’s like Herb Spamfellow is making some decisions over there. And why not? 

There’s a term for a menu item where you order something, you think you’re getting a round of mozzarella or burrata, but then when you cut into it you actually find little balls of mozz, which you smear on crusty garlicked bread, or just pop in your mouth, or do whatever. The little balls are the bocconcini.

The first time I ever encountered this was when I was with ever-suffering Better Half in a small church in a medium-size city in Italy. There was some statuary and a couple of altarpieces that I wanted to look at. There was also a trompe-l’oeil ceiling/dome that made you think the angels were actually flying down to you. This is kind of normal. You go in, that’s free. But the churches can be kind of dim, so if you put in some coin(s) that will illuminate what you’re trying to see. So I was doing this, and it was only BH and me, but then suddenly altar boys appeared to set things up for a Mass.

“Oh no, Better Half! Head for the exit!”

Too late, because incoming was a flock of nuns who were blocking the only exit. I said to him, “Well, let’s just take our seats in this pew here. I can’t imagine this will take long. Do whatever the nuns do.”

I think I mentioned this before. I have a genius for showing up in Catholic Europe and inevitably it is the place’s Saint’s Day. This was one of those occasions. Locked in, we were subjected to a 2 1/2-hour Tridentine (Latin) Mass. I loved every moment of it. Up, down, kneeling, standing, singing, chanting, public prayer recitals in Latin provided in booklets in the back of the pew in front of you, I wanted to convert on the spot. 

When it was all over, we filed out, and the priest had processed first, of course, so he was at the door to bid us adieu. I said to him, in my most formal but still laughably bad Italian, “Thank you Father, that was very…”

He cut me off and said, in American English, “I’m from [small city in the Upper Midwest]. I noticed you didn’t partake in the Sacrament of Holy Communion. Was there a reason why? God forgives all things.”

Shamed, which I normally am not, because I don’t give a rat’s ass about what people think about me, because I have more than a slight (well-deserved, if I do say so myself) superiority complex, I said, “Well, my friend and I are not Catholic. We were here to see [the artwork] but then suddenly the Mass started and it was too late to leave.”

“I will give you some advice. You see that restaurant sign down the street, just there, it says [whatever], don’t go there. Instead, walk past it and turn left and don’t cross the street and in two blocks you will come to [name of restaurant; forgotten]. That’s where you will enjoy a bite to eat.”

Anyway, it was a weird kind of twilight for a city on holiday, not really time for dinner, the Mass took 2 1/2 hours, presumably the nuns would be fed by their convent, so we went to this restaurant. I wish I could remember the name of this, but the closest I can come is bocconcini. Here’s something you can do with them:

Ingredients

200 g (7 oz) cherry bocconcini [these are the small balls of mozzarella]

2/3 cup (150 ml) extra virgin olive oil 

2 cloves garlic – peeled and cut into thin slices

1/2 long red cayenne chili/pepper – finely sliced (seeds removed) – or more to taste 

1 tsp dried oregano

1/2 tsp whole black peppercorns

1 tsp lemon zest

1/2 tsp sea salt flakes

Instructions

Drain the mini bocconcini and place them into a jar or small bowl. 
Peel and thinly slice the garlic.
Cut the chili in half lengthways, remove the seeds and membrane. Finely slice the chilli and add to the mozzarella. Adjust the amount of chili used according to your taste.
Zest the lemon.
Add all of the ingredients together and mix well. Cover and refrigerate for at least 2 hours to allow the flavors to develop.