Little Oranges
Tuesday, August 26th, 2008Today I was frying up our first batch of arancini…“little oranges” you can find on streets in certain parts of Italy. But they’re not produce. Arancini are deep-fried balls of creamy risotto filled with meat, peas, sausage, Mozzarella di Bufalo, or saffron…mmmm…
They are sometimes called Supli di Telefono in Italian, which translates to “the wires of the telephone,” because of all the stringy cheese that dangle when you take a bite.
As I worked over the pot of bubbling oil, in walked Fabrizio Casini, our Florence-born produce buyer – or as I like to think of him, a worker of produce wonders. I love cooking for Fabrizio, especially Italian dishes that remind him of home.
But he said he’d never eaten arancini before. That revelation spurred me to make one of the finest batch I’d ever fried up. One bite and I could see on his face how joyous the flavors were as they oozed onto his tongue.
At that moment, he started talking about his family in Italy, growing up in Florence, palming the produce in his father’s market when he was just a boy. His whole life has been sensory-rich and food-centered.
Having been to Italy many times, I closed my eyes and pictured exactly what he was talking about. The places, the people, the senses…
I’m American-born and bred, but Fabrizio’s memories called up images of home, food, love, the concept of soul-filling and soul-touching. This is why I cook, why I stand in the kitchen and work ingredients into tasty pieces of art. Anyone who spends a life around food is devoted to the idea of conjuring feelings when people sink their teeth into something prepared lovingly and with thought.
When I closed my last restaurant, Emily’s, we hosted farewell dinners. On the last night, when all of the emotions of serving a last supper of sorts swirled around and inside me, I didn’t think I could handle speaking to the group about what they’d meant to me.
I didn’t have to. People rose from their seats, one by one, and told stories of favorite times in my restaurant. They shed tears, giving permission for my own, and recounted stories of first dates, engagements, weddings, anniversaries, births, even deaths. Moments celebrated and marked with food, friends and family.
The love of food can do that to you….share with me…..
– Hiller’s Head Chef Rick Halberg




