Almost Italian

Enrico Caruso as Manrico in Il Trovatore

Enrico Caruso’s passion for food—and cooking—nearly equaled his passion for opera. During his tenure at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York (November 23, 1903 — December 24, 1920), he sponsored the citizenship of more than a dozen chefs from his home town, Naples, possibly to assuage his longing for Napoletano cuisine. Not only did he help them open restaurants and pizzerias in Little Italy, but on evenings when he wasn’t singing, the master himself enjoyed donning an apron to work in their kitchens.

But here’s where the libretto of Pasta alla Caruso gets complicated: Some food historians say Caruso invented the dish; others claim one of his Napoletano friends in New York originated it and named it in the tenor’s honor. Still others attribute the creation to various chefs in the scores of cities where the peripatetic Caruso performed.

The larger question for us, though, is why, if the dish was invented sometime between 1903 and 1920, did it not appear on the menus of neighborhood restaurants until the 1950′s. Chicken was not commonly eaten in Italy until after WW II. So, here’s what we think: when a tough Italian barnyard fowl did make it into the kettle, there would have been but one small liver. However choice a morsel an Italian might have found it, chicken liver was not a commodity ordinarily available and, thus, unlikely to have inspired a sauce. But here in America, with abundant poultry, Italian cooks found chicken livers to be a rich food that was actually cheap! Nonetheless, even with chicken livers at giveaway prices in the US, they were—and remain—one of those “variety meats” that diners tend to love—or assiduously avoid. And since the majority of the original Little Italy restaurant patrons were non-Italians, the percentage of avoiders was high. This seems to have been a sauce invented by Italians for Italians; in short, they kept it on the back of the stove—for themselves.

It took decades, probably till the Truman administration, before there was the critical mass of Italian-Americans dining out in places that had evolved to the white-linen level. Only then did Pasta alla Caruso become a fixture on menus celebrating the refinements of la cultura italiana by featuring a dish named for the great tenor, Enrico Caruso, an Italian name as widely known as Al Capone, but certainly one more favorably perceived.

In any event, the combination of chicken livers, mushrooms, and a rich tomato sauce makes for a soul-satisfying primo piatto, a first course. The chicken livers provide a creamy richness, the mushrooms, an earthiness, and the tomato sauce, a sweet acidity. Over a serving of spaghetti or perciatelli al dente, the dish has all of the harmony and exuberance of Il Trovatore’s Anvil Chorus.

Pasta alla Caruso
Pasta with Chicken Livers and Mushrooms in a Red Wine Tomato Sauce

Ingredients:

2 Tbs. Olive Oil
3/4 Cup Flour, seasoned with salt & freshly ground black pepper
1 Lb. Chicken Livers, separated into individual lobes, all visible fat removed
2 Tbs. Extra-virgin olive oil
2 Tbs. Unsalted butter
1 Lb. Assorted mushrooms, (Portobello, Crimini, White button) sliced thinly
1 Cup dry red wine
1 28 Oz. Can, crushed tomatoes (preferably San Marzano)
4 Tbs. Flat-leafed Italian parsley, finely chopped
Salt & freshly ground black pepper
1 Lb. Spaghetti or Perciatelli
Freshly grated Parmigiano

Preparation:

Flour the chicken livers, shaking off any excess and reserve on a plate.

Heat a sauté pan over high heat, then add the olive oil. Add the chicken livers and sauté until they are slightly browned and firm. Remove from the, pan and reserve.

Pour off the olive oil, then add the two tablespoons of butter. When the butter has foamed and the foam begins to subside, add the mushrooms, tossing to coat with the butter. Cook for four or five minutes, until the mushrooms begin to give off some of their juices.

Add the wine all at once, scraping the bottom of the pan to loosen any caramelized bits of liver and mushroom from the bottom. Continue, cooking over high heat until the wine has reduced by about half. Lower the heat and add the tomatoes to the mushrooms and wine. Adjust the heat so the mixture barely simmers.

Slice the chicken livers crosswise into half-inch rounds and add them, with any of their accumulated juices, to the tomato sauce. Taste for seasoning, add salt and pepper if necessary, then cook over low heat for about thirty minutes, or until any clear liquid has evaporated.

In the meantime, bring a large pot with about six quarts of water to a boil. Add the pasta and cook until al dente.

To Serve:

Drain the pasta, divide equally among four (or six) plates, top with the sauce, and garnish with the chopped parsley. Pass the Parmigiano separately at the table.

Oh, and try not to act surprised when one of your dinner guests suddenly discovers a long-hidden talent for Italian opera.

Serves four as an entrée, six as a first course.