Almost Italian

There is a veritable panoply of regional specialties that have found their way into the collective cuisine of Italian-Americans. Many dishes have achieved this status even though the preparations are still not to be found beyond their original home towns. While we’ve already written about the Spezzi of Westerly, Rhode Island, other notable examples are the Toasted Ravioli of St. Louis, Muffuletta sandwiches of New Orleans, and Chicken Vesuvio in Chicago.

Then there are the Spiedies of Broome County. (And, yes, we too think it sounds like a book title…)

I first learned about spiedies (pronounced SPEE-dees) in 1965. Early that September and for my entire first term at college, my roommate—a trumpet player from Binghamton, New York—marked the days until Thanksgiving vacation, when he planned to make his way home for a spiedie fix. While in graduate school, I encountered a similar reverence when a classmate from Endicott, New York, enlisted my help in making spiedies-in-exile. Despite our earnest efforts—making a marinade from scratch and attentive grilling—my friend judged the result to be not-as-good-as-back-home. My interest in the Mystery of Spiedies has persisted ever since.

As with many American cult foods, spiedies have been discussed extensively online. The Internet abounds with factoids on their origin. Unlike Buffalo Chicken Wings—whose origins can be traced to a particular date, time, and place—the genesis of spiedies is murkier.

Spiedies—New World incarnations of Agnello allo Spiedo, spit-roasted lamb, or Spiedini d’Agnello, lamb skewers, as they were known back in Abruzzo—appeared in Broome County, New York. There is conflicting heresay and sworn testimony that Augustine “Augie” Iacovelli served the first spiedie at his restaurant, Augie’s, in Endicott, N.Y. in 1939. Meanwhile, disregarding the Iacovellian date, Peter Sharak, of Russian-Ukrainian background, is also given credit for serving the county’s first spiedie in 1947 at his own restaurant, Sharkey’s Bar & Grill, in Binghamton. To this day, Sharkey’s advertises itself as “home of the spiedie,” while being well-known for pirohi (pierogies) stuffed dumplings, the comfort food of Slavs.

As recipes go, the basic spiedies preparation is simplicity itself: cubes of meat (the original recipe used lamb) are marinated in lemon juice, white wine, olive oil, garlic, and herbs. The meat is then grilled over hot coals. And in 1939 when Mr. Iacovelli made his spiedies, those herbs—oregano, rosemary, mint, and thyme—would have been harvested from his garden the previous autumn and dried over the winter. As any second or third- generation Italian-American will tell you: “it’s what all the old-timers did…”

Sheep farming was once widespread in upstate New York; the flocks provided wool to the region’s mills. And they also supplied meat to immigrant populations with a taste for mutton and lamb, large numbers of Irish, Italians, and eastern Europeans.

But escalating lamb prices and accommodation of local tastes (there are now significant communities of Asian-Americans in the region) have driven Broome County’s cooks to adopt beef, pork, and—increasingly—chicken for their contemporary versions of the immortal spiedie.

The presentation is without frills. The server holds a piece of Italian bread or a sub roll, in one hand* as he places the skewer of grilled meat across the bread. He folds the bread around the meat and then grasps the package firmly but gently as he slides out the skewer. Clearly, there is nothing arcane here, and one would assume the technique—and the recipe—would work well enough anywhere.

Certainly, one would have expected the treatment to have had legs, especially with a neighbor like IBM. Originally located in Endicott, IBM sent employees all over the country, early road warriors who had certainly been exposed to Broome County’s local delicacy at one of the area’s myriad spiedie emporia. But somehow, although we now have computers in every corner of the nation, no one ever seemed to introduce spiedie production to new territories.

I was once invited to dinner by some fellow geeks in Burlington, Massachusetts. They were expatriate “Broomers” who had just received a “care package” from home that consisted of several bottles of Lupo’s Original Endicott-Style Spiedie Marinade. Spiedies were on the menu that night. My hosts had marinated chunks of skinless, boneless chicken breast and then cooked them on a gas grill. They felt their spiedies fell short of the mark, even with an additional dose of marinade at serving time. While I secretly thought their disappointment might have had something to do with the excess salt and high fructose corn syrup in the commercial marinade, my hosts decreed that “you just can’t make good spiedies outside of Broome County.”

Thus, the Mystery of Spiedies continues. We don’t know why they haven’t travelled beyond the boundaries of Broome County when everything one needs to make them is available throughout North America.

There must be more to the story than this, so we ask you, our readers, to write in with your thoughts about why something so simple has achieved such mystique.

Ingredients:

Juice of 1 lemon
Grated rind of 1 lemon
4 Tbs. Olive oil
2 Tbs. Red wine vinegar
1/2 Cup white wine
4 Tbs. Flat-leaf Italian parsley, finely chopped
4 Tbs. Fresh mint,* finely chopped
4 Cloves garlic, peeled and finely chopped

2 Lb. Boneless pork shoulder cut into 1 1/2 inch cubes
Salt & freshly-ground black pepper

Preparation:

Combine all the ingredients in a large, non-reactive bowl. Add the meat and stir well to coat each piece.

Marinate for 2 – 4 hours at room temperature, or overnight in the refrigerator.

Using metal skewers, place 6 – 8 chunks of meat on each skewer.

Start a fire in a charcoal grill. When the coals have developed a uniform grey ash, and you can’t hold your open palm over the fire for a count of five, the fire is ready.

Using tongs, place the skewers of meat on the fire and grill, basting occasionally with the marinade. Grill approximately 2 – 3 minutes per side.

Season liberally with salt and freshly-ground black pepper

To Serve:

For a casual lunch or snack, serve in sub rolls.

For a sit-down dinner, enjoy the grilled meat atop polenta accompanied by a seasonal salad.