Recreating a Delightful Italian Dessert

One of the many memorable things about last year's visit to  Sperlonga, Italy, situated on the Tyrrhenian Sea, was a delightfully simple, yet elegant ice cream dessert I ordered at Ristorante Scylla.  Today, I decided to recreate this dish.  Unfortunately, it was not quite as simple as I anticipated.  

First, you will need four oranges.  After rinsing well, use a vegetable peeler to remove the orange rind.  Try to avoid getting the white pith as much as possible, as it will unnecessarily sour the candied orange pieces.  It is suggested that you cut the orange peel into smaller pieces than I did.   

The next part in the process requires bringing about four cups of water to a boil, dropping in the orange peel, then lowering the temp to a simmer for fifteen minutes.  After the time is up, slowly stir in about two cups of sugar.  Bring to a boil, then simmer for one hour. You will want to stay around the kitchen for this period, as you will need to stir and monitor the boiling mixture.

Once the mixture boils down sufficiently, remove the candied oranges and place them on a rack to dry.  Strain the orange syrup at this point and save for later.  (This is also a good time to add additional flavorings like lavender.)  This essentially becomes a marmalade syrup.

The next challenge is slicing the ice cream into attractive cubes.  After cutting the ice cream out of its carton, it's time to get to work.  I bought a salad chopping tool for this purpose, but it did not work well.  We also tried a pizza cutter with no luck.  In the end, the best tool was a baker's dough cutter.  

Enjoy the cubed ice cream with candied orange peel and drizzled syrup over the top.  I hope you enjoy it as much as we did!

(If planning to travel to Sperlonga, there are a few practical pieces of advice I'd like to offer that could spare you some trouble and inconvenience   Feel free to contact me for details.)

The Magic of Concrete

"Italy Sulmona view of the Roman aqueduct with the Del Vecchio fountain in the foreground"

     

In the fourth chapter of Robert Hughes' Rome, A Cultural Visual, and Personal History, my attention is drawn to the historic architectural breakthrough of concrete.

With concrete, the Romans could build aqueducts, arches, domes, and roads; it opened up means of rapid transport, storage, and defense that had not existed in earlier masonry cultures. Concrete built hundreds of bridges, which gave the Roman army swift access to the most remote parts of the Empire. The stuff of power and discipline--it was ugly and always would be--the brief mid-twentieth-century vogue for beaton brut, produced some of the most hideous, grime-attracting surfaces in all architecture, as a visit to London's Festival Hall will confirm. But it could be rendered with stucco or faced with thin sheets of stone, and it was very strong and cheap, allowing the the construction of very large structures.


Hughes, Robert. Rome: A Cultural, Visual, and 
     Personal History. New York: Alfred A. Knopf,
     2011. Print.

(Illustrative links added for blog; they were not selected by Hughes.)


It's hard to believe that something as ugly and "ordinary" as concrete could have such an effect upon history, but it certainly made its mark. In the prior post, for instance, I endeavored to focus upon the significance of the abundant fresh water in Rome, and this would have been impossible without the concrete aqueducts. It was, in effect, the bridge between thought and idea and reality: the malleable stuff of emperor's dreams.

     As a fellow who has to work in one of those concrete government buildings, I'm a little ambivalent about my topic of choice here. Still, it seems this was one of the materials or tools that really enabled Roman culture and genius to thrive. (As John D. Spalding observes in his essay "Spreading the Word," from Heldref Publications, the Roman system of roads also greatly facilitated the spreading of the Gospel.)