My Kitchen in Rome: Recipes and Notes on Italian Cooking

by Rachel Roddy

When Rachel Roddy visited Rome in 2005 she never intended to stay. But then she happened upon the neighborhood of Testaccio, the wedge-shaped quarter of Rome that centers around the old slaughterhouse and the bustling food market, and fell instantly in love. Thus began an Italian adventure that has turned into a brand new life. My Kitchen in Rome charts a year in Rachel's small Italian kitchen, shopping, cooking, eating, and writing, capturing a uniquely domestic picture of life in this vibrant, charismatic city. Weaving together stories, memories, and recipes for thick bean soups, fresh pastas, braised vegetables, and slow-cooked meats, My Kitchen in Rome captures the spirit of Rachel's beloved blog, Rachel Eats, and offers readers the chance to cook "cucina romana" without leaving the comfort of home.

Genres: Cookbooks, Cooking, Food, Italy, Memoir, Food and Drink, Nonfiction

365 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 2015

Reviews

[Gina *loves sunshine* · Rating 5 out of 5]

After our 13 days in Italy earlier this year I fell in love with the history and culture! I also fell deeply for how they feel about food - they enjoy it and they celebrate it!! Most people think Italian....and they automatically make 2 categories - Pizza and Pasta.

Thankfully, this cookbook brings out everything that Italians celebrate and the food is so much more than what the tourists seek out! It's fabulous for photos and stories of everyday life - plus you will find ALL the foods that make up the Italian culture. Mozzarella, veal, lamb, seafood, tomatoes, zucchini, greens, olives and olive oil! Plus lots of fruited desserts!

I opened this book with the sole purpose of finding out how to cook octopus - something I ate many times while there - it is so good and something I never see on the menu here in the states. It has the same type of texture as squid(calamari) which we are much more familiar with. Recipe found and tried - thank you and so glad my local health food store carries Octopus! We also fell in love with fresh whole anchovies - I wish I could get a fresh from the sea whole anchovy over here - but I'll settle for the pictures and the memories!! Good fresh seafood is abundant in Italy and you find out in this cookbook very little is needed to make it - Salt and Pepper, lemon and a few miscellaneous herbs - Yum! same goes for the recipes for mussels and the various white fish, popular over there.

This book is 379 pages of food culture - I loved it!!!! These recipes are not difficult, but this is mediterranean cooking. You need to love to flavor food with other food - herbs and vegetables. This is nothing found in a box, can or cube. Everything is fresh and flavorful, yet simple and delicious!

[Elizabeth · Rating 5 out of 5]

There are three strange things about this otherwise excellent cookbook.

1.) The English title is "Five Quarters | Recipes and Notes from a Kitchen in Rome". But the publishers for the North American market are clearly disturbed by the notion of 5 quarters (I can imagine the outraged conversation around the table: "How can that be?? 5 doesn't divide into 4! 5 quarters, indeed. That's ridiculous! Let's fix this...") The title in North America is "My Kitchen in Rome".

2.) In keeping with a quite bizarre and yet oddly standard cookbook editors' instruction, if a recipe calls for water, it is missing from the ingredients list.

3.) There are very few bread recipes - just pizza dough and buns - and they are on the dull side, calling for too much (in my opinion) yeast. (There are many good ideas and recipes for what to do with bread though.)

In spite of these niggling aspects, this is a gloriously wonderful cookbook, packed with detailed descriptions of ingredients, recipes, tips (including how to make and cook pasta from scratch, which includes the importance of keeping the pasta cooking water), lovely photos, and a very personal account of living - really living - in an apartment with a kitchen "not much larger than an Encyclopedia Britannica" in Rome. It is beautifully opinionated. The photos scattered throughout the book (including in the index) are of Rome, as well of many of the dishes - often showing only the ingredients, or a process of the cooking. We were entranced by the photo of Roddy's son gazing at a busking saxophone player spread over pages 275-276. We couldn't help but feel as if we were right there with her, sitting in her little kitchen in the Testaccio quarter of Rome, watching her pour out glasses of wine, and then talk about her day as she prepared the next meal.

Some of the best meals I've eaten in Italy have been cooked in small, ordinary kitchens on straightforward stoves using simple, basic equipment. I have also eaten some wonderful meals cooked in large kitchens equipped with every conceivable tool and appliance, and armies of pans. It's not that one is better than the other—good food can be prepared in either way, in either kitchen. However, it is the ordinary and simple that appeals to me, since it's more inclusive and uncomplicated, rather like the food itself. (p.26)

In her tiny kitchen, Roddy has just one electric appliance. In the beginning of the book is a detailed description of her kitchen equipment. My favourite is "a strand of spaghetti that is always in with the wooden spoons for testeing whether the cake is cooked". How brilliant is that?!

Almost all of the recipes appealed. Many are very similar to things we make already. Others have just enough difference to be intriguing. These are just some of the recipes that I immediately bookmarked: fava beans and pecorino, deep-fried squash blossoms, pizza Bianca, pasta and lentil soup, spaghetti with cherry tomatoes, borlotti beans, minestrone, pork chops with fennel and juniper, white beans with sage and sausages, chicken or rabbit cacciatore, rice stuffed tomatoes, asparagus, salsa verde, fennel with parmesan, chickpeas with greens, quince in syrup, apricots in syrup, peaches with amaretti, Baked pears, caramel oranges, Granita di caffè, caramel brittle, Candied Orange Peel


Here are a few favourite passages:

If Parmigiana reggiano is a smooth, sophisticated type with a history of art degree and a flat in Kensington, then pecorino romano is a bit of a rogue with an accent as thick as molasses, a great record collection, and plenty of charm. (p.40)
~ ~ ~
Please note that my croquettes are wonky because, as everybody knows, very neat croquettes—like very neat people and houses—are suspicious. (p57)
~ ~ ~
More often than not, bread is the first thing to arrive on the table, usually in a basket lined with a napkin, and the last thing to be removed. It is nourishment that predates pasta in Rome by centuries; an accompaniment; a utensil (when the dish permits, many Romans eat with a fork and a crust of bread); and the agent of the final swipe, or scarpetta, of most plates. Quite simply, a meal is unthinkable without bread. (p.67)
~ ~ ~
In an ideal world we would have given a complimentary food mil, mouli, or passaverdura away with every copy of this book [...] A brilliantly simple, old-fashioned device [...] I'm not sure I've ever been in an Italian kitchen that didn't have one or three at hand. It does a job no other kitchen tool can: it purees cooked vegetables, fruit, legumes, fish, and other ingredients, separating out the skin, seeds, fibers, bones, and bits, the unwanted from the wanted. In fact, the action of the crank and the plate extracts flavour from the unwanted as well. [...] What's more, a food mill doesn't entirely break and blast down the texture of hte pulp as a blender or food processor would, but leaves it with the lively texture and distinct personality that's so desirable for Italian soups, sauces, and purees. [...] It is without a shadow of a doubt my favourite and most-used kitchen tool. (p.126)
~ ~ ~
The recipe starts with patience, just a little, enough to fan the lentils out on a tray and scan them with your eyes, as there's almost always a tiny stone hiding, especially if you are using good lentils. It's a task that probably takes a minute at most but it's the kind of instruction that can make me disproportionately irritated, as in "I really don't have time to be fussing with that." (p.107)
~ ~ ~
It's nine o-clock on a Tuesday morning and I've drunk too much coffee. The man in front of me, who must be in his late seventies and reminds me of my uncle Frank, slight and spritely with a cigarette pinched between thumb and index finger, is buying three etti (300 g) of tripe [...] To my right, a woman I recognized from teh pharmacy, and who seems undressed without her white coat, is buying liver and veal for spezzatino. [...] At the other end of the long counter, Mauro is serving a woman sausages and rib tips [...] As I wait in front of folds of tripe and dark red swathes of liver, the blows of the cleaver and slow grind of the meat grinder fill out the hiss and clatter of saucers from the bar nearby. Luca balances on the lip at the bottom of the counter. He peers through the glass, his breath leaving a tiny cloud, and whispers "meat." (p.167)~ ~ ~
Just the thought of preparing this dish makes me happy, not just because any dish that requires a glass of wine for the pan requires one for the cook, but because of hte roaring scent of garlic and rosemary rising up from the cutting board, the golden crust on the meat, the whoosh the wine makes as it hits the hot pan, and the warm scent that fills the kitchen as the dish bubbles away. (p.196)
~ ~ ~
What if you don't live near a charming market in Italy, though, where cranberry beans in their pods and zucchini showing off their golden flowers roll into your arms? The answer, of course, is that it doesn't matter: you want the very best you can find, and what you can find will do. (p.196)
~ ~ ~
At times, I have found myself paralyzed by kitchen advice, strong opinions, and come si fa (how to do something); or rather, non si fa, (how not to). I brought it upon myself, of course, by being eagure to learn, eager to be authentic—whatever that means—and eager to please. This was very much the case with green sauce, or salsa verde, until a good friend and even better cook reminded me that once you've listened to all the advice and tried and tested something, you must make the recipe your own. (p.268)
~ ~ ~
Resembling a swollen hand, with stems like pointing fingers sprouting feathery fronds, fennel is related to anise but has none of its cousin's aggressive sharpness, but rather a clean, faintly licorice aroma. It's crisp, cool, and sweet, and one of my favourite vegetables. Mostly we eat it shaved very thinly and dressed with salt and oil, or if it is particularly succulent and sweet, more simply still, in fat wedges instead of fruit. (p.271)
~ ~ ~
It's a simple and clever idea: pears are rubbed with butter (which is one of my favourite recipe instructions) (p.271)
~ ~ ~
[A]s with almost all Italian culinary wisdom, even the simplest of recipes comes with the obligatory suggestion: practice. [...] When an Italian shares a recipe with you it's likely to be dotted with variables and gestures that suggest "some" or "to taste" or, bewilderingly, "enough". This is because they know and understand that ingredients [...] vary from kitchen to kitchen, from place to place, from season to season; that what may seem sweet to one person is not to another (p310)
~ ~ ~
Before arriving in Italy I hadn't drunk coffee for several years, for several reasons, none of which are particularly interesting. I returned to coffee-drinking with a ristretto in a noisy bar near Napoli airport about an hour after I first landed. As the intense half-inch of dark liquid invaded every crevice of my palate and seeped into my system, I enjoyed a moment of caffeine ecstasy that I'm not sure will ever be repeated. (p.312)
~ ~ ~
Ciambelline al vino are quintessentially Roman, and a good recipe in which to mention q.b. or quantobasta, which literally means "how much is enough?" —or, as Vincenzo puts it, "whatever you think is the right quantity." You find q.b. dotted liberally throughout Italian recipes, and the older your book or more southward-leaning your travels, the more you encounter it. It isn't a question, but an assumption that you know how much salt, pepper, flour, oil, wine, sugar, fennel seeds, and so on, is enough for the recipe in question, according to your preference. It's an assumption that you have good taste, good instincts, and/or that the recipe is good enough for you to make it again and again until q.b has become second nature. Unlike some recipes I've bookmarked, in which every ingredient is followed by q.b., this one has measurements of sorts. That is: a glass of wine (red, white, or fortified), a glass of extra-virgin olive oil, and a glass of sugar. The size of the glass, of course, is whatever you think is right. (p.346-347)

[Margaret · Rating 5 out of 5]

I don't think I've ever previously read a cookery book from cover to cover. I love browsing the work of certain cookery writers: Elizabeth David, Nigel Slater and all the usual subjects. But to start at page one and continue till the very last page? Surely not. Well, yes. This is a wonderfully written, atmospheric read in which you'll learn about Rachel Roddy's life and family, about the busy working district of Testaccio she now calls home, about the skills, techniques and recipes she's learnt whilst living there. It's a bit of a handbook for anyone who considers they have a love affair with Italy. All this and recipes too. It's a book to read, and then give pride of place to on the kitchen shelf.

[Ben · Rating 5 out of 5]

Seems odd to include a cookbook in my largely fiction reading on here but I love this book and often peruse it. Rachel Roddy’s writing brings you to the streets, tavernas, and markets of Rome and inspires you to cook. Start reading for the recipes but keep reading for the writing and the stories.

[Barb Kelownagurl]

Didn't read every page, but what I read, I enjoyed.

[Erin Moulton · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love this book. It's a little happy spot in the chaos and grayness of the New England winter. I keep dipping into it to hear the clatter of the Italian streets and markets. And I've been trying many of the recipes, and can say that everyone in the family has been enjoying them. A delightful book, both for atmosphere, story, setting, and most definitely FLAVOR.

[Rebecca · Rating 5 out of 5]

I adore Rachel's blog, so this cookbook is a real treat that I'm reading from cover to cover... so sad it has to go back to the library before I'm finished!

[Mary · Rating 4 out of 5]

Roddy starts the book with her moving to Rome from England without really providing any information about herself except that she is a mom and is still living in her favorite neighborhood of Testaccio. She writes this book from Testaccio, but what her background is or how she ends up writing a cookbook is not shared.
She begins by noting that you should purchase the highest quality ingredients you can afford, and it is clear throughout the emphasis on the freshest ingredients, which may be difficult for those who don’t have a market just down the road like Roddy does. She lists the equipment you’ll need, which is relatively small overall and should be in most readers cabinets already.
She has a distinctive voice that is both beguiling, filled with metaphor and imagery, and secretive, alluding to events that are never fully disclosed. Some of the metaphors were confusing to this American reader: how is parmigiana like a flat in Kensington? But it is her discussions of Rome’s history with regards to local neighborhoods and Roman ingredients like pecorino Romano that I enjoyed most in the book. She obviously has a great appreciation, if not always love, for these intricately described ingredients. And the local history is the kind you might get if you asked a longtime resident about their neighborhood; it feels somewhat like insider information.
Recipes are generally simple (with maybe 6 ingredients at most) and start often with a long discussion/digression of ingredients. This discussion is often useful and provides advice, sometimes including wine recommendations. Then, ingredients are listed with paragraph directions that are very loose. You have to be comfortable with ambiguity: how much oil? Enough for frying. How much beans? Lots. In some ways, the simplicity of Roman food lends itself to this style, but if you haven’t worked with the ingredients much, you may feel unsure of the completed result. And some “recipes” are buried in the narrative so you have to read to find her discussion of what to do with ricotta: stir it into pasta, smear it on bread, slice it over beans, etc.
The author knows her Roman food prep, and while the details are sketchy for quantities and times, there are strategies shared that American cooks may not know about, not just add salt to the cooking water or stir some pasta water into your sauce, she also adds to gently stir the water into your ricotta and Parmesan before tossing with the pasta. These simple dishes become superlative when you know how to prep them.
Pictures are arty, often with blurry sections and include food, dishes and her son. Many recipes do not have a picture of the finished product.
This book is less about getting the recipes and more about immersing yourself into the Roman approach to food

[Vicuña · Rating 5 out of 5]

I have Rachel Roddy’s A to Z of Pasta and I really enjoy the way she writes about food. Her books are as much a travel and personal log as she recounts experiences, places and people that have featured in her life journey. So you get not only a book packed with recipes, but an entertaining and informed insight into the background of many of her ingredients and recipes. I bought this initially as an ebook on daily deal at 99p. It informs about ingredients and equipment and her favourite kitchen utensils. The recipes are in sections; antipasti, soup and pasta, meat and fish, vegetables and dolci. Recipes are easy to prepare and most are mouthwatering in the introduction to them. My courgettes are in full flower at the moment and I can vouch for how delicious these are covered in batter and fried. The taste is unique and exquisite and I have to say I’d never thought of using the flowers as part of a salad. This edition has no photos and I liked it so much, I searched out a used copy of the first edition of the book in hardback. It’s fabulous and packed with photos as part of the cooking journey. The later edition doesn’t have pictures and is the same as the ebook, but if you enjoy food, food writing and travelogues, I’d urge you to find a copy of the original edition. This is a great addition to my kindle cookery books and the hardback is now on my real shelf. Absolutely love this book.

[Emma · Rating 4 out of 5]

I've been a big fan of Rachel Roddy for years - her column in the Guardian has some of my favorite recipes. I've cooked through a fair amount of this cookbook - the spinach with raisins and pine nuts is a surprisingly delicious side and the twice-cooked broccoli is on my regular rotation.

As some other reviewers have noticed, Roddy tends to hide some of the ingredients and steps through the recipe and things may not be clear. I find this frustrating, as it can make cooking more stressful and frenetic than it needs to be. Nothing worst than going through a recipe and realizing you need an ingredient now which you haven't prepped.

Additionally, a number of the recipes are the same as the ones in her column. I don't mind some duplication, but it seems a little presumptive to charge people for a book in which probably half the recipes (if not more) can be obtained for free online.

Five stars for the quality of the food. Four stars for the two points listed above.

[Katherine Kardash · Rating 5 out of 5]

Frankly speaking, it’s the first cooking book that I read from the very beginning to the end, it was a pleasure to go through every single page. I’m grateful to the author for such open and honest stories, simple explanations and instructions. I’d like to admit that apart from being a skillful cook Rachel is an amazing photographer. She has an eye for capturing vivid moments of the daily life. Effortless beauty is the essence of each shot.

Overall, I love cooking and the book gave a comprehensive insight into the realm of Italian cuisine. (already trying out the recipes and slowly upgrading my cooking skills). "My kitchen in Rome" would be a treasure for every food-lover or cook. No matter if you are a beginner or an advanced chef, you will enjoy this masterpiece and get a better understanding of Italian culture in general.

[Heather · Rating 2 out of 5]

I’m a little baffled by the reviews of this book. I judge cookbooks on the writing and by how badly they make me want to try the recipes. While this did make me want to visit Rome I didn’t find her writing very compelling and found myself skimming. I also don’t find myself wanting to make much out of this one, mostly because it’s so meat-heavy.

[Anne Macnamara · Rating 5 out of 5]

Glorious. Beautiful writing which evokes the tastes and smells of the markets and kitchen, lyrical and personal, with beautiful photographs.
I loved the mix of food and life in Rome, all the more so since a recent trip there. The stuffed tomatoes are first on my list, closely followed by the granita. This will be a permanent fixture on my shelves.

[Michelle Sanseverino · Rating 3 out of 5]

There’s definitely a lot of interesting things in this book. Some of the writing and storytelling I found to be a little…awkward and fluffy? She uses the words seductive to describe food a lot and gently when describing boiling or frying. I have no idea what she means by that. Her writing was a little too whimsical to be taken seriously. This seemed like more of a brag than anything.

[Nikki Metzgar]

i read it cover to cover like a memoir, which it is in part. dreamy and evocative.

[Diana · Rating 5 out of 5]

Great cookbook-- well written, beautiful photographs and wonderful recipes. The first recipe I made was Pesche ripiene i.e. Baked peaches with butter and almonds (Pesche ripiene just sounds nicer (: ) Just 6 ingredients, what an easy way to highlight delicious local peaches. The caramel oranges (2 ingredients) and baked pears with Masala and cinnamon (5 ingredients) are also on my list of recipes to try.

We have friends coming to dinner tonight and a pile of zucchinis so the marinated zucchini with mint is a perfect antipasti recipe. Sadly, I'm waiting to hear if I have celiac so the potato croquettas and several pasta dishes will have to wait (Hopefully!) but there are plenty of gluten free recipes including the four I've already mentioned.

[Serge · Rating 4 out of 5]

Being at most a home cook, I normally don't spend time reading cookbooks. However, this one I really liked . (My copy free courtesy of the publisher & Goodreads.com.) The narration about life in Rome as well as the easy writing style and straightforward recipes made my happy. It is a book I will use many times in the future as I try to cook.

[David John Gray · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow

At last, a cookbook that more than delivers also it shows there is more to
Italian cooking also it is easy to understand the recipes

[Danielle · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love how the author casually weaves personal anecdotes about living in Rome among the recipes. Besides being fairly easy and delicious, the recipes are also full of useful tips.

[Deborah Harbour · Rating 5 out of 5]

I love the story behind the recipes

[Susie · Rating 3 out of 5]

Beautiful book

[Chris Kan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Not Sure reading cooking books counts too much but I inhaled this one. Beautiful writing, simple lovely food.