There are plenty of food-centric movies that have made my mouth water: Babette’s Feast, Chocolat, Tortilla Soup (lame movie, excellent cooking), Woman on Top (perhaps even worse movie, same excellent cooking). But none of these movies has inspired my inner chef like Big Night. This 1996 independent film gathers an impressive ensemble cast but the real story centers around two brothers played by Stanley Tucci and Tony Shalhoub. (I should have had you at “Tucci”.) I don’t feel like it’s an exaggeration to say this movie is no less than awe inspiring with its depiction of traditional Italian homemade cuisine. In fact, I dare say, I feel a little bit sorry for you if this movie has escaped your attention. But it’s not too late friends. Just, you know, don’t go in it for the complicated plot or the fast-paced action. Oh, and possibly consider skipping a meal so you’re on the verge of real hunger.
However, this post is not a review of that movie by any means. This is about the signature dish of that movie. On the “big night”, the brothers have invited a VIP to sample the best of their edible fare as a last-ditch effort to save their restaurant. From the first course, nay the preparation of the first course, your mouth will be watering and your taste buds tingling. But the most delightful presentation of all, the most compelling dish among the many epicurean jewels spread across the table… is the timpano. For years I’ve watched enraptured, upon every repeat viewing, as Tony Shalhoub’s Primo (that’s his character’s name) creates this dish. Then, last year, Lord Bessie and I discovered that she had a few friends who were equally fascinated by the timpano. And so we had our first Timpano Day.
We went all out. One of her friends even had the Tucci family cookbook with the recipe from the movie and a special dish to accommodate it. (It’s huge.) Then, we divided the prep responsibilities, set aside a whole afternoon, and coordinated the construction of our masterpiece. It completely met our expectations. But better yet, my nephew saw the video we made and wanted to try it, so we lured him for his first visit ever to our apartment with the promise of a timpano custom-made just for him. And his teeny tiny girlfriend.
This is what it takes.
First, we needed to borrow that special basin-like dish. Second, we prepared Ragu Tucci, because not only must everything be made from scratch, it must be the exact same recipe as the movie. Then we made the little meatballs. Only that didn’t turn out quite so well. Apparently I should have read every line of the recipe to note that the ten slices of Italian bread needed to be left out for three days. Discovered this detail on Timpano Eve at about 5:00 pm. We gave it three hours. Unfortunately, that was not enough time and, long story short, the meatballs were kinda mealy. Lord Bessie didn’t mind them, but they made me gag. I tried three times... and then made a quick trip to the grocery store.
Other ingredients for layering include Genoa salami, provolone, pecorino romano, hard-boiled eggs and 3 lbs of ziti. The pasta shell to encase these tasty layers was made by Lord Bessie and rolled to correct proportions by yours truly. That’s rubbery stuff, I tell ya. The first time we went through this process we realized that flour got stuck in crevices we could neither see nor feel in our smooth-topped table. Still, it’s the only surface big enough for this purpose, so we simple re-speckled. Apparently, just as I’m willing to suffer for fashion, I am equally willing to damage my furniture to legitimize my cooking. Plus, technically Lord Bessie bought the table.
Ok, so the pasta shell is rolled out and placed in the basin, draped over the edges. Then the layers begin – ziti, meatballs, salami, eggs, provolone, ragu, romano – repeat. Finally, top it off with some beaten eggs and fold the flaps together over the top. I suspect an aficionado like Stanley Tucci can accomplish this seamlessly; however we needed a few toothpicks to ensure a tight fit. No big deal. That part ends up on the bottom.
The bummer of the process is the wait. It needs to cook for an hour uncovered, then another 30 minutes with foil on top, then it needs to sit out of the oven for another 30 minutes, then you pop it out of the basin and let it sit for another minimum 20 minutes. (Only, I recommend longer.) On the other hand, that meant we had the pleasure of my handsome nephew’s company that much longer. It’s a strategy I recommend: bondage by appetite. To his credit, he acted as if he liked being here. (If you’re reading this, kid, you made our day.)
As for the timpano, two out of two times it hasn’t disappointed. It’s hearty and dense and filling and altogether satisfying. And it’s not really difficult, so you should attempt it yourself. Make an occasion of it, as seems to be our burgeoning pattern. It deserves nothing less than a Big Night.
Fully layered and ready to seal.
Toothpicking.
Settling. For another 20 minutes.
Nephew going in for seconds.
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