Red, white and green all over
http://europe.chinadaily.com.cn/food/2014-05/26/content_17539296.htm
As an Australian of southern Italian heritage, I am a gourmand caught between two worlds - cursed with a particularly fussy palate and a penchant for marrying diametrically opposed cuisines.
I'm the kind of guy who's happy to attend a traditional Aussie barbecue only to insist on smearing his sausages with marinara sauce. Some may call this fusion. I call it plain confusion.
Consequently, acclimating to the Chinese diet in Beijing has not been without its challenges. After my first seven months of dining on Asian fare and with only the occasional Mediterranean treat to remind me of my ethnic roots, I was suffering withdrawal symptoms for a taste of fine Italian cuisine.
I found the solution at the north end of Sanlitun's Taikoo Li entertainment area: lunch at the Italian restaurant Isola. It specializes in authentic regional Italian cuisine, including homemade pastas, stone-baked pizzas and an impressive choice of oven-baked fish, other seafood and roasted meats.
As I enter the airy, predominantly white eatery, I'm directed to a table near a wall that doubles as a huge wine rack - the ends of an assortment of bottles stick out from holes in the partition, like the engorged spines of an spiny anteater. On display are specially selected wines from Italy - including an array of my favorite, prosecco, and various other wines offered by the glass.
I peruse the menu, which includes such entrees as mixed salad with balsamic vinegar and truffle-infused oil, and Italian buffalo mozzarella cheese with mint jelly and balsamic reduction. Yum. The extensive list of mains includes two types of risotto, and no less than seven pasta dishes, including hand-twisted pasta with Parma ham, black-truffle broad beans and Parmesan cheese. Fish and meat dishes are also in great abundance, with the monkfish medallions in Sicilian capers, olives and tomato broth piquing my curiosity.
I opt for the minestrone (a Tuscan-style vegetable soup with mushrooms and tomatoes) as my entree. A colorful selection of vegetables sits in a red-orange broth. The humble tomato, the centerpiece of this meal, knows its place in this melange, providing a fresh, juicy, flavorful taste to the soup without overpowering the gusto of the other elements, which include squash and oyster mushrooms.
Having only recently returned to eating meat after a spell as a vegetarian, I hanker for a piece of good-quality meat for my main meal. Two such dishes catch my attention - the grilled Wagyu beef (from Australia) with mushrooms and red Nebbiolo wine sauce, and the roasted lamb rack with rosemary, potato and eggplant.
A good cop/bad cop routine begins playing with my head. On one shoulder a tiny little voice with a distinctively Aussie twang whispers: "Go for the Aussie Wagyu, Tone. It'll be bonza, mate." On the other shoulder another little voice, a cross between a slurring Dean Martin and an ethnic Sydney fruiter, insists: "Have the lamb, signore. You know you want it." To compound my dilemma, the song playing on the restaurant sound system as my waiter approaches is Crazy, a 1980s hit song by Australian band Icehouse. "You gotta be out of your mind ... crazy," the song's refrain cries. Yeah, crazy hungry. I make my decision. I order the rack of lamb. The next song to play is Andrea Bocelli's Romanza. I see it as a sign that I've made the right choice.
The lamb rack arrives a short time later, frenched and leaning languidly on a throne of potatoes, a brown carpet of gravy unfurling from beneath. It might be the Australian in me, but I think lamb is the king of meats, baa none!
My first bite of this majestic morsel is like a parched traveler's first sip of water after traversing a desert. The lamb is a nice pink color inside and tender. It's delicious.
The potatoes are fluffy white inside and melt in my mouth - just the way I like my spuds. As for the eggplant, my favorite nongreen vegetable, it's perfectly cooked and a great accompaniment to the meat.
When I'm finished, there's a little room left in the belly for something sweet. Being that my bloodlines are Sicilian-Italian, I sit up at the sight of Sicilian cannoli - crispy pastry with ricotta, walnuts, raisins and raspberry - on the dessert menu.
Normally, I eschew any food containing ricotta (a soft cheese-like product made from sheep, cow, goat or Italian water-buffalo milk whey left over from the production of cheese). It's more to do with the texture than the taste. But to slight this most Sicilian of sweets is considered sacrilege by anyone with so much as a single green, white and red corpuscle of blood. I suck it up and order it.
The delicious crunch of the baked pastry momentarily transports me back to the streets of the Sicilian port town of Milazzo, its creamy contents slide down my throat without resistance.
As I swallow the last crumb of my dessert, the manager stops by to ask me whether I have enjoyed my meal. The answer is a resounding yes.
antonyotera@chinadaily.com.cn