Sausages with Peppers
May 10th, 2008No other dish in the Italian-American repertoire evokes images of Italian street festivals the way Sausage and Peppers does. It may be the middle of January, but the combination of spicy grilled sausages with wilted peppers and caramelized onions never fails to conjure hot summer nights, Neapolitan ballads, and nonne in house-dresses sitting on the open fire-escapes of brownstones. No matter when or where you serve Sausage and Peppers, the meal never fails to turn into a party.
Most Italians in the first waves of immigration had been too poor to have eaten much sausage in Italy. Early records of the immigrant communities include recollections such as one southern Italian’s first tasting pork when he joined a lumber camp in Maine.
Nevertheless, contadini would have been pressed into service on the day their padrone decided to butcher a pig. The padrone may well have rewarded his staff, allowing them small portions of meat to take home. Religious holidays in Italy were also opportunities for the well-off to extend some largesse to their workers and servants, who were sometimes allotted meat for festive meals.
New Italian immigrants who may have had sausage-making skills saved their money and dreamed of the day when they might open macellerie, butcher shops, in a world where meat was an everyday commodity. In the meantime, they may have convinced established German-American butchers to add a bit of fennel seed or dried basil to a batch of sausage stuffing.
Among the Italians who realized their dreams, Eduardo Faicco established his first shop on in Greenwich Village in 1900. G. Esposito & Sons started the Jersey Pork Store in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn in 1920. John Landi, one of Esposito’s early employees, subsequently opened Landi’s Brooklyn Pork Store in 1928. All three shops continue to thrive today. The latter two stores have adapted to the American scene with something unimaginable four generations ago: they have Websites. Such sites seem to portend a vigorous virtual life for the Little Italys, extending their real estate into cyberspace.
We’re not certain where the irresistible pairing of Sausage and Peppers first occurred, but our research confirms that southern Italian immigrants were celebrating their “marriage” before Prohibition at the Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel in Italian Harlem.
The first Italian-American sausages were probably grilled over an open fire. The 1950’s saw panel trucks equipped with propane stoves for roadside diners—what mobile cooks still use at construction sites and factory parking lots. Liquid propane, the cooking fuel of today’s street festival griddles, didn’t find its way into practical use for gas-powered grills until the 1960’s.
Outdoor grilling imbues the sausages with the spirit of summer, but the dish is also delicious and easily made indoors—in a single skillet.
Ingredients:
8 Links sweet or hot Italian sausages (or a combination of the two)
2 Tbs. Olive oil
4 Cloves garlic, peeled and thinly sliced
4 Red or Green bell peppers, seeded and cut lengthwise into half-inch strips
2 Medium yellow onions, thinly sliced
Salt & freshly ground black pepper
3 Tbs. coarsely chopped Italian parsley
Preparation:
Parcook the sausages in enough water to cover, for approximately 8 minutes. Drain and reserve.
Heat a large sauté pan over medium heat, then add the olive oil. Add the sausages and cook, turning occasionally until they begin to brown. Add the garlic, peppers and onions, stirring and shaking the pan to coat them with olive oil. Season with salt and pepper, and cook, stirring occasionally until the peppers are wilted; approximately fifteen minutes.
To Serve:
Divide among four plates and garnish with the parsley.
Serves four
Tag: Almost Italian, Italian food, Italian recipes, Sausage and Peppers
May 11th, 2008 at 12:15 am
Sausage-making in our family was a yearly event in mid-summer. My parents held all aspects of the process close, but I do know they pooled their money with friends from our small local Italian community to buy a large amount of a select variety of meats and casing from the butcher.
My parents made a few pounds of sausage as a trial run, then compared notes with their friends and adjusted their recipes accordingly. (The closest I myself have come to this practice was when I lived in New Mexico and the new crop of chiles was roasted in the fall. After the first batch of green chile stew or rellenos, we all compared notes about the flavor and heat of the latest crop.)
My parents made two or three batches of sausage, generally mild tasting and sweet with fennel, though highly peppered. Their sausage had a low fat content so the skin broke easily, and it cut like a roasted meat.
We usually ate the sausage plain and lightly grilled in a cast iron pan as a main dish, with vegetable side dishes. My mother fed my father the cold leftovers mixed together in a sandwich for lunch.
My parents treated their sausages like a prize, freely shared it, and when it was gone it was gone. I know they didn’t make sausage until the boys were on their own and out of the house because they couldn’t afford it until then.
I still long for a taste of that sausage, and for one especially memorable batch that actually contained sirloin they made the year I moved out on my own. (Sigh.)