I've put on weight, about four kilos since I came to Italy, something I swore wouldn't happen as the wise old owls, smirking, told me it would. The possibility that they might be right mortifies me and so I've drawn up a plan of sensible eating and exercise to get me back into the shape of an athlete, with a picture of the 800m Olympic semi-finalist Lynsey Sharp stuck to my dressing table as a reminder. I've also baked a cake.
However, full denial in swing, this is not a cake made purely for the purpose of eating for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I've fooled myself that the process of baking it is a test of my language skills, as the recipe comes from a beautiful Italian book called 'Pera picciola Grande in cucina', a collection of recipes all using this rare variety of pear. Thus, I feel worthy rather than gluttonous, having had to translate it; if only translation was a serious calorie burning activity.
The name Sbriciolosa stems from the verb 'sbriciolare' meaning 'to crumble' so perhaps this is the Italian version of our much loved English crumble. It has a simple dry cake mixture base, followed by a layer of sliced pears coated in cinnamon, and is then topped with the same doughy mixture but with chopped almonds added to it.
To my pleasure, after a tense fifty minutes in the oven, it looks fairly similar to the picture shown in the book, and tastes good too. As the author suggests, it would be best served with cream, as it is a little dry alone, but perhaps it is for the best that I don't happen to have any. Having sampled a slice, I am now going to attempt to leave the rest for my housemates. May luck and strength of will rain down upon me as I'm going to need it.
#Recipe by Sandra Ballerini in Aurelio Visconti's 'Pera Picciola grande in cucina'
No comments:
Post a Comment