Almost Italian

Photograph by Skip Lombardi

The most basic combination of olives, carrots, garlic, mint and hot pepper appears a as dressing for tuna and rabbit in traditional Sicilian cooking. But Middletown, Connecticut, is the only place where I have found stimparata to be a dish in its own right.

Variant spellings of the word stimparata, stimperata, stemperata remind us, once again, that the national language of Italy has been codified for little more than a century.

Stimparata means “stamped,” referring to the way the olives were split open. For this task, my Sicilian grandfather’s weapon of choice was a glass milk bottle. He’d line up a dozen olives on the kitchen counter and work along, smashing them with the bottom of the bottle before sweeping them into a bowl. When dairies phased out home milk delivery, he made a concession to modern times and adopted a glass Coke bottle. You’ll get an equally good result splitting the olives with the side of a cleaver or the bottom of a small frying pan.

When you buy the olives, choose the largest variety you can find. I seek out olives known as Sicilian Colossal or Green Colossal. But any large, firm-fleshed, green variety will be fine. (I find the texture of commercially pitted olives to be less satisfactory and prefer the firmer olives I pit myself.) When you do your shopping, though, you might want to consider buying more than you think you’ll need.

My grandfather’s use of celery was probably his American substitution for fennel, which would have been more readily available in Sicily. Celery does appear in modern Italian stimparata recipes, but this may reflect the realities of cross-fertilization: Italian-American recipes migrating back to Italy. Mint, a legacy of Sicily’s medieval Arab population, is what really tags this recipe as a Sicilian treatment of common Mediterranean ingredients.

I’ve often brought Stimparata to a party, but I’ve found that my antipasto rarely makes it into the house. I’ve yet to learn that offering the host and hostess a small taste before entering their party is dangerous. Before I know it, we’ve settled in on the front porch, and soon I have nothing to contribute but an empty container.

Stimparata
Olive Salad

For each pound of olives, you’ll need —

2 Medium carrots, peeled, quartered lengthwise and sliced thinly
1 Stalk of celery split lengthwise and sliced thinly
2 (or more) Cloves of garlic, peeled, and sliced thinly
4 Tbs. Fresh spearmint*, finely chopped
4 Tbs. Red wine vinegar
2 – 3 Tbs. Olive oil
Freshly-ground black pepper
1/2 tsp. Red pepper flakes

Preparation:

Place the olives on a hard surface and strike them with the side of a cleaver ( or the bottom of a small, heavy frying pan) to break them in two. Note that the pit may or may not come out. This didn’t matter to my grandfather, but remove the pits if you wish.

Place the smashed olives in a non-reactive bowl. Add the carrots, celery, garlic, mint, and vinegar and toss together. Add approximately half the olive oil, then taste. Add a little more oil or vinegar if necessary. Add the black pepper and red pepper flakes and stir again.

Cover and store in the refrigerator for at least 24 hours before serving. This gives the garlic a chance to mellow, and dissipates any of its harshness.

Stir the stimparata again before serving at room temperature, either on its own or as part of an antipasto platter.