The tagline on this cookbook is “Great Italian Recipes Made Easy for Home.”
“EASY.”
A dalliance with it has made me wonder…if this is “easy for home” then just how bloody hard are they working in the restaurant?
Let’s back up: I was invited to the launch of Fabbrica (the book) back in the fall. It took place at its dad’s place, Fabbrica (an Italian restaurant in Toronto).
Fabbrica is owned by celebrity chef Mark McEwan. His abbreviated resume:
- Owner of Toronto restaurants North 44, Bymark and ONE.
- Has a fine food emporium in the same complex as Fabbrica called McEwan.
- Host of Food Network shows The Heat and Top Chef Canada.
(Above: writer Jacob Richler, McEwan and chef Andrew Ellerby)
The launch was nice. I spoke briefly with McEwan, and he came off as approachable and friendly. Leaving the event, I really wanted to like his book.
I mean, it looks good. It’s got those trendy matte pages, snazzy photography and I am quite fond of that Fabbrica font.
But there was no chemistry between me and Fabbrica. As someone who proudly comes from Tinylittlesmalltown Canada, I’m judging whether a person from my town – or a person anywhere in Canada, for that matter – will find the book accessible. My second impression, after the cool font, was that the write-ups before each recipe were just too highfalutin for my taste. An example:
“For this recipe, seek out the best possible prosciutto – and the longest-aged joint available – for in addition to the benefits of flavour, pleasurable chewing of the pizza hinges on prosciutto that surrenders obligingly to advancing teeth.”
And another:
“The artisanal capocollo we serve at Fabbrica is aged in our meat locker for a minimum of four months. Hopefully you can find one that is nearly as good.”
Is it just me, or is that a bit of a naa-naa-na-na-naaaa? As I read on, I began to feel like I was inferior to this book; that this book would snub me at a party. Or do what those Rodeo Drive shopkeepers did to Julia Roberts-in-whore-attire in Pretty Woman.
The next obstacle was the ingredients. Every recipe seemed to call for something obscure and/or expensive. McEwan swears by San Marzano tomatoes, “the most expensive variety that you will ever find occupying a can at your local supermarket.” I looked high and low for these tomatoes and it took forever to find them, even though I live in an area that is densely populated by Italians.
I know somewhere I could find all this stuff, though: McEwan’s own store. Now, I don’t intend to dis the store. I made a special field trip to McEwan and it was very exciting - a treat for anyone who cooks. All I’m sayin’ is: someone in Saskatoon isn’t going to make the trek into Toronto to get canned tomatoes. Do you hear that, Saskatoon? I’m standing up for you!
The difficulty in locating ingredients, in addition to their cost, means I only cooked five recipes out of this book instead of my intended ten.
Here’s what I made:
- Pizza with Wild Mushrooms and Truffle Cream
- Ricotta Gnocchi with Heirloom Tomato Sauce (see pictures of my effort)
- Risotto with Sugar Pumpkin and Pancetta
- Chicken Parmigiana
- Oven-Baked Tortiglioni with Meatballs
Everything tasted rich and superb! Other than potential weight gain, I can’t complain about the outcome of the recipes.
Their execution, however, was another matter altogether. The book is maddeningly meta. The “Oven-Baked Tortiglione with Meatballs,” for example, actually required you to cook three recipes: a batch of meatloaf, two batches of tomato sauce and – finally – the ultimate dish. I could have flown to Italy in the time it took me to make this. Almost.
There’s a meatloaf sandwich in Fabbrica that you’re supposed to poach, using a fish poacher, in a fancy stock you made yourself. Another sandwich is introduced like this: “at first glance, this sandwich may appear to be excessively labour-intensive. Maybe it is. But anyone who has taste it will attest to that the effort is well worth it. Do give it a try.“
“Excessively labour-intensive?” I thought this book was “easy!”
Therein lies the true problem: the branding. Had it been labelled “Intricate Recipes with Esoteric Ingredients” I couldn’t say a word against it. I might utter a choice word or two about having to buy a food mill to make tomato sauce, but I wouldn’t be writing those words here.
If you have time, moolah and long to expand your Italian cooking horizons then Fabbrica is your friend. I can see how it would provide great inspiration for a dinner party.
But, if you don’t feel like spending hours crafting a sandwich fit for royalty, I suggest you just go dine at Fabbrica (the restaurant) the next time you’re in Toronto.
{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }
Heya Reb,
*ahem* Tinylittlesmalltown can probably source the ingrediants…thanks to Frank T & his army of deli staff in the QF grocery stores. He actually had a really good selection of Itlaian items. (I recognised all you listed & I so do not cook!) Back in the day it was kinda like P’ville’s own Little Italy, I sliced many a kilo of proscuitto. (Arggghh, one of the most annoying deli meats to work with) & a favourite staff hazing was a, “welcome to the QF, here have a slice of Capicollo” Wouldn’t have the slightest clue how to cook with them though
I live with someone who’s a pro cook, and we both couldn’t find a lot of these random ingredients anywhere near us(Italian area.) The publisher should seriously reconsider their marketing strategy with this book.
I’d love to eat at the restaurant, however.
The ricotta Meyer lemon cheesecake from this book is easy and delicious!. Definitely a keeper!
Would like to make the pizza dough recipe next but discouraged in trying to source the “italian “00″ flour”. … Although I know I’ll crack with Red Rose bleached flour soon.