Diary of a Shopkeeper, 19th January

Facts, facts and more facts! Anxious to avoid the flood of disinformation rising around us, I continue with the next instalment of my A to Z of deli food and drink.

D is for Durum wheat. This isn’t a brand or product name you’ll see on our shelves. But if you pick up a packet of good quality pasta in any deli and look at the ingredients, you’ll find it there: Durum wheat semolina. Durum is the second most widely grown wheat variety, though it’s a long way behind the most popular, Common wheat, which accounts for over 90% of the world’s production. Frightfully common. Although Durum is used in countries around the Mediterranean for grainy dishes like couscous, and for flat breads including some pizza bases, the vast majority of it is used in pasta making.

Durum is a harder grain than Common wheat, and the more extensive milling required to turn it into flour breaks down its starch content. When you boil quality pasta, you should see little or no white froth rising to the surface; Common wheat releases starch when boiled, so cooks frothily and has an unpleasant stickiness to its texture. Additionally, Durum’s glutens are more resilient, meaning they help pasta keep its interesting shapes when cooked; Common wheat’s glutens are elastic, making for pleasantly soft, bouncy bread. No surprise that it’s illegal in Italy to make dry pasta from anything but Durum wheat. (Only in Italy would the might of the legal system rule on what grain your spaghetti can be made of!)

Another key indicator of quality pasta is to look for ‘Cut with a bronze form’ or similar phrases. This means the pasta will have a lovely rough texture that sauces adhere to in just the right quantity, rather than the smooth, shiny texture of industrial, Teflon-cut products. The sauce just slides off those. Pasta’s a simple dish, and, as with anything simple, success comes from getting the wee details right. The best wheat, the correct cooking, and a small amount of well-flavoured sauce coating the pasta perfectly. What’s not to love?

E is for Époisses, a ‘love it or hate it’ cheese. It’s one of the smelliest in the world, up there with Stinking Bishop from southwest England, and Minger from Tain. Probably the smelliest of all is Vieux Boulogne, made near Calais. It’s illegal to eat this on public transport in France, so pungent is it. (Only in France would the might of the legal system rule on which cheese can be eaten where!)

All these cheeses achieve their olfactory power in the same way, after starting life as mild,  soft curds. The secret is in their ageing, key to which is a  technique called rind washing. Époisses is washed three times a week for four to six weeks. As it originates from the heart of the great wine-making terroir of Burgundy, it’s no surprise that the liquid used to wash it consists largely of grape brandy. Other washed-rind cheeses use different washes, from beer to brine. The much-missed Westray Wife used a herby brine to help achieve its wonderfully deep flavours. The washing prevents mould, but encourages bacterial growth and micro-fermentation, which is what creates pungency. Ironically, the fierce smell of cheeses like Époisses is often matched by subtle, nutty flavours and a luxurious creamy texture.

Try it with a glass of red Burgundy: a heavenly partner for a hellish-smelling cheese!

Speaking of red wine, have you heard of Frappato? A few years ago, no one had, including me. Well, no one outside southeast Sicily. Less than 2,000 acres are planted worldwide, and almost all of them are there. As you’d expect, it’s not easy to find wine made from this scarce grape, but if you get the chance you’re in for a treat.

Frappato wines are cherry-red in colour, bursting with attractive berry aromas, and low in tannin. A good example is likely to be unoaked, or least showing little sign of barrel ageing: it’s all about the fruit.     They tend to be fairly low in alcohol – about 12 to 13% – and can be enjoyed cool on a hot summer’s day as well as at room temperature. Try with a selection of charcuterie, mild cheese, or grilled Mediterranean vegetables. Or with that classic Sicilian dish of aubergines and tomatoes, penne alla Norma – made, of course, with good Durum wheat pasta. The dish’s name alludes to a popular 19th century opera by Sicilian composer Vincenzo Bellini, Norma. It’s said that, when writer Nino Martoglio tasted the dish, he cried out in joy, ‘Chista è ‘na vera Norma!’ meaning ‘This is a real Norma’ – a real masterpiece.

Of course, that was just his opinion, not a fact. Next week: G, H and I, without even a single opinion.

This diary appeared in The Orcadian on 23rd January 2025. A new diary appears weekly. I post them in this blog a few days after each newspaper appearance, with added illustrations, and occasional small corrections or additions.