SF MAGAZINE

A Better Kind Of Bitter

January 1, 2008

San Francisco Magazine
January 2008

In professional kitchens, bitter is seldom intended as a compliment. It’s used to describe burnt food, bad produce, or a cook in desperate need of a vacation. Unless, of course, you’re in Italy, where bitter—often in the form of  greens, either foraged from the countryside or cultivated from the descendants of wild plants—plays a starring role in much of that country’s vibrant cuisine.

In spite of a decided lack of training in Italian cooking, I’ve always had a fondness for bitter flavors. They cut through rich, fatty dishes and, used correctly, can hold sweet and sour elements in perfect balance. Every winter, while others are bemoaning the end of the tomatoes, I’ve already eagerly moved on to one of my favorite local ingredients: radicchio.

At the market

Look for vibrantly colored heads with no distressed leaves. Radicchio should be bitter, but not unpleasantly so: as a general rule, the lighter the color, the sweeter the leaves will be. Unlike many lettuces, radicchio is best when mature, so skip the babies. And don’t weaken the vegetable’s flavor by soaking it in ice water to make it less bitter, as I’ve heard some chefs advocate.

The best-tasting and most diverse selection of radicchio in the Bay Area is grown from Italian seeds by Annabelle Lenderink of La Tercera, in Bolinas, and David Retsky at County Line Harvest, in Petaluma. Restaurants snap up most of their produce, but regular folks can find their radicchios at the Marin Farmers Market on Thursdays and the Berkeley Farmers Market on Saturdays. Both of these farms grow many traditional strains, like Verona and Castelfranco, each named after their native towns

On the menu

“I like radicchio because it has something to say,” explains Charlie Hallowell, chef-owner of Pizzaiolo (5008 Telegraph Ave., Oakland, 510-652-4888). Hallowell’s favorite winter salad combines Treviso, shaved raw sunchokes, toasted walnuts, and parmesan in an anch-ovy vinaigrette.

In Italy, radicchio is usually paired with vinegar (especially balsamic), anchovies, eggs, and cheese, all of which soften the vegetable’s rough edges. It’s often grilled or stirred into risotto or pasta, which tempers its bitterness and creates a more complex flavor. At Oliveto (5655 College Ave., Oakland, 510-547-5356), chef Paul Canales folds nutty Veronese radicchio into a pasta dish with goat cheese and a few drops of balsamic vinegar. He pickles Treviso with champagne vinegar and spices and serves it as an antipasti. “The best expression of radicchio is not just bitter,” he says. “It also has an underlying sweetness.”

In the kitchen

“There are some radicchios we cook and some we use in salads,” says Craig Stoll of Delfina (3621 18th St., S.F., 415-552-4055). And sometimes he serves a dish that’s in between, an Italianate version of a classic bistro salad: wilted radicchio topped with a poached egg.

Stoll begins with a vinaigrette made from four salt-packed anchovy fillets. Pound two of them, along with a clove of garlic and a little salt, in a mortar with a pestle to make a paste. Transfer to a small mixing bowl and whisk in two tablespoons of red wine vinegar, then . cup of olive oil. Season with salt. Chop the remaining anchovies and add along with more vinegar to taste.

To prepare the croutons, combine three crushed cloves of garlic and 1/4 cup olive oil, and let stand while you tear a day-old loaf of levain-style bread into pieces. You’ll need about two cups. Spread the torn bread on a baking sheet, remove the garlic from the oil, and pour the oil over the brea. Sprinkle with salt and toss to coat the bread with the oil.  Toast in a 350°F oven until the bread is crunchy on the outside and still chewy in the middle.

In a large frying pan, combine the croutons with eight cups of washed, torn radicchio leaves (Stoll likes to use a combination of varieties—Castelfranco, Palla Rossa, Rossa di Verona, and Chioggia),  ¼ cup grated parmesan cheese, and the vinaigrette. Warm briefly over medium heat until the radicchio wilts, but don’t let it sizzle. Add oil if the salad seems too dry, and adjust the seasoning as necessary. Divide the warm radicchio and croutons among six serving plates and top each with a poached egg. Drizzle with olive oil and season with salt and pepper to taste.

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