L'Italo-Americano

THURSDAY, JUNE 12, 2025 www.italoamericano.org 28 L'Italo-Americano ladle, but the pun is, of cour- se, unavoidable. D e a t h , d a n g e r , a n d drama I t a l y d o e s n ' t s h y a w a y from dramatic culinary titles either: in Bari, spaghetti all'assassina – "assassin's s p a g h e t t i " – e a r n s t h e i r n a m e f r o m t h e s c o r c h e d , crispy method of cooking p a s t a d i r e c t l y i n a s p i c y tomato sauce until it sticks to the pan. The dish is fiery, b o t h i n t e m p e r a t u r e a n d temperament. In the same melodramatic tone, we have p e n n e a l l ' a r r a b b i a t a , o r "angry penne," named for the kick of red chili peppers that make the diner's cheeks flush and nose run. H o l y f o o d , f u n n y names Perhaps the most Italian j u x t a p o s i t i o n i s t h a t o f s a c r e d r e f e r e n c e s w i t h decidedly irreverent names. As seen with the "nuns' tits" pastries, culinary naming often flirts with blasphemy or cheeky religiosity. Uova alla monachina ("little nun eggs"), for instance, are a Neapolitan Easter specialty: b o i l e d e g g s f i l l e d w i t h béchamel and cheese, bread- gious criticisms, or cheeky humor. T a k e s t r o z z a p r e t i , o r "priest-chokers." This thick, hand-rolled pasta hails from central Italy and, depending on whom you ask, the name either refers to the pasta's difficult-to-swallow shape ( e s p e c i a l l y i f o n e w e r e a gluttonous priest), or to the women who "strangled" the d o u g h w h i l e r o l l i n g i t , expressing local resentment toward the clergy. In a similar vein, pane c a f o n e , N e a p o l i t a n f o r "peasant's bread" or "crude bread," wears its name with pride: though "cafone" is a derogatory term, this loaf is b e l o v e d i n N a p l e s f o r i t s dense crumb, crisp crust, and humble origins. And if you're dining in Rome and someone offers you cazzim- perio, don't panic: despite the suspicious prefix (the first half of the word means, well, exactly what you think it does), this is simply the local dialect for pinzimonio, a d i s h o f r a w v e g e t a b l e s s e r v e d w i t h o i l , s a l t , a n d p e p p e r f o r d i p p i n g . T h e n a m e m o s t l i k e l y c o m e s from cazza, an old word for ed, and fried. Despite the dainty name, they're rich, h e a r t y , a n d p e r h a p s t o o decadent for the table of old- school nuns! Then there's strangolapreti, the Trenti- no variation of strozzapreti, which takes things one step further: here, it's not just p a s t a , b u t b r e a d - a n d - spinach gnocchi. The name still means "priest stran- g l e r s , " a p e r s i s t e n t m o t i f a c r o s s r e g i o n a l I t a l i a n kitchens. Just plain bizarre Some dishes resist neat categorization but are worth mentioning for their sheer linguistic oddity. Brandacu- jun, a Ligurian dish made with salt cod and potatoes, sounds like nonsense…until you break it down: in local dialect, brandare means "to shake," and cujun is slang for a fool or, more colorfully, male anatomy. The name may refer to the wobbling motion needed to emulsify the dish or the wobbling of the person making it. S a n g u i n a c c i o d o l c e i s another oddity: a dessert m a d e w i t h c h o c o l a t e a n d pig's blood, popular in some p a r t s o f s o u t h e r n I t a l y . Though less common today, the dish has a long tradition during Carnival season and, despite the alarming ingre- dient list, the taste is rich a n d s u r p r i s i n g l y m e l l o w . And let's not forget cazzilli di patate, potato croquettes from Palermo shaped like s t u b b y f i n g e r s , o r , m o r e accurately, "little you-know- what," as the name not-so- subtly suggests. As funny as they are, we shouldn't forget that, behind each of these names lies a piece of Italian cultural his- tory. Poking fun at religious authority, hinting at sexual innuendo, or simply naming a food after its shape: Ital- i a n s h a v e l o n g u s e d l a n - guage to play with meaning at the table, showing creati- vity, humor, and a beautiful openness to imperfection. So next time you're brows- ing a menu or shopping at a salumeria, keep an eye out: that oddly named pasta or s a l a m i m i g h t j u s t b e t h e most memorable bite of your trip! has its culinary tributes: in S i c i l y , m i n n i d i v i r g i n i ("virgin's breasts") are deli- c a t e p a s t r i e s f i l l e d w i t h ricotta and candied fruit, topped with a cherry. Their shape gives them away, but their origin is surprisingly chaste: created in the 18th century by Sister Virginia Casale, they were intended t o h o n o r S a i n t A g a t h a , a martyr whose breasts were mutilated during her tor- ture. Variations of this pas- try appear across the south, often called sise delle mona- c h e o r z i z z e d i m o n a c a ("nuns' breasts") in local dialect. L a s t b u t n o t c e r t a i n l y least, there's the zizzona di Battipaglia, a massive buf- falo mozzarella ball whose name translates, bluntly, to the "big breast of Battipa- glia:" weighing up to two kilograms, it's a favorite at summer feasts and Insta- gram-worthy cheeseboards. Insults and slang in the kitchen Not all odd names, howe- ver, are anatomical: some come from regional slang or old-fashioned insults, relics of Italy's class tensions, reli- I taly is known for its c u l i n a r y e l e g a n c e : truffles from Alba, saffron risotto from M i l a n , d e l i c i o u s seafood, even the simple – but famed – aura of pasta al pomodoro. But beyond pol- i s h e d m e n u s a n d s t a r r e d trattorias, Italian cuisine hides a wonderfully irrever- ent side, one we find in all i t s – a l l o w m e t o s a y – cheekiness in the names of certain dishes. This playful and sometimes provocative s i d e o f I t a l i a n f o o d w a s delightfully highlighted in an article from the English edition of La Cucina Italia- n a , w r i t t e n b y S t e v e DiMaggio and published in 2023. The piece explored ten famously odd food names a n d i n s p i r e d t h i s d e e p e r dive into Italy's uniquely named culinary curiosities. Rooted in dialects, folklore, or plain old kitchen humor, these names are sometimes just as memorable as the r e c i p e s t h e m s e l v e s : f r o m b o d y p a r t s t o h o l y metaphors, here's a tour of Italy's most bizarrely named food offerings. Anatomy on a plate Let's begin with a catego- ry that Italy seems especially fond of: food named after body parts. The most com- mon theme? Male reproduc- tive organs, and women's breasts. First, from the cen- tral regions of Umbria and Abruzzo, we find coglioni di mulo – literally, "mule's testicles." Thankfully, no mule is involved here: this is a pork salami with a distinc- tive oval shape, often enclos- ing a cube of lard at the cen- tre. The meat is seasoned, cured, and, despite the crude n a m e , t r e a t e d w i t h g r e a t r e s p e c t b y l o c a l s . T h e n there's palle del nonno, or… a h e m … " g r a n d p a ' s g e n i - t a l s . " A n o t h e r s a l a m i , o f course, but this one has a coarser grind and a more rustic appearance: the name might cause a smirk, but the taste is as traditional as they come. The female anatomy, too, The "minni di virgini," or "virgins'breasts," a traditional Sicilian pastry (Photo: Steve Blandino/Dreamstime) What's in a name? The weird, rude, and the cheeky world of Italian food names CHIARA D'ALESSIO LA BUONA TAVOLA RECIPES COOKING TIPS SEASONAL DISHES

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