My First Polenta Man Dear Reader,Last Saturday I was at the open-air market that takes place every week in the center of town (Bellinzona is in the Italian-speaking canton of Ticino). This is the best place to buy regional delicacies--freshly made cheese, local wine, oven-warm bread, colorful fruits, vegetables, and handicrafts--direct from the farmers, vintners, and others that man stalls along red cobblestone streets. While I was buying a small round of fresh goat cheese (the man in charge of the stall was more interested in playing with his granddaughter than selling me his cheese) I saw a huddle of townsfolk gathered at the end of the market. Peering over their shoulders, I saw my first Polenta Man (I usually get my polenta in a store). He was enthusiastically spooning out portions of steaming polenta (a creamy corn-based dish locals eat with just about everything) from a huge brass antique kettle into plastic containers. He worked rhythmically, filling a container, slapping it shut, scraping off the excess, handing it to a customer, and then filling the next one. He didn't stop to collect money and no sign was posted regarding the price. Honor payment was simply tossed into a cup filled with coins and a few notes. When my turn came, the Polenta Man immediately sensed I was a novice. Without skipping a beat, he took my 10 franc note, made change, and wrapped my polenta. My husband and I found a quiet bench, opened a bottle of Ticino Merlot Bianco wine (another local specialty), pulled out a chunk of fresh Parmesan cheese also from the market, and carefully unwrapped our little polenta package. It was still hot. Using plastic forks, we dove in. Mmm…the best polenta I've ever tasted. Livia Gaffield
For International Living |
