Fare la scarpetta!
There is something about Italy that allures people like a magnet. Everything about the country is attractive, and it is not only for its rich history and great architecture combined with the unique individuality of each city but also for its great food wherever and whatever you eat. First of all, the products are good and tasty, and we all know that when you have great ingredients, it is likely that you have great plates. But there is more to it than just good ingredients, it is the joy Italians attribute to eating. To admit, I rarely find the true taste of Italian foods outside Italy. It is the way they enjoy their food that seems to be contagious. You just step into the mood, and start to enjoy whatever is put in front of you.
We all know that anything Italian sells, particularly when it comes to food. Look at all the pasta and olive oil brands made in this country, even if they are a hundred percent Turkish, they are all labeled with Italian-sounding names. Sometimes it gets quite challenging to differentiate which is truly Italian. Of course, there are also the so-called Italian products that are made in Türkiye, but directly sent to Italy without having the opportunity to land on our tables. Premium dried tomatoes produced in the vicinities of İzmir, or even in far-away locations such as the Eastern province of Bitlis, are directly shipped to Italy, and then probably to elsewhere. Why we cannot have access to such good produce in our own country is a dilemma, but I’m sure nobody will pay attention if they see the very same dried tomato at a budget store under a Turkish name. You would not be tempted to buy it, but if it is labeled Italian in a high-end delicatessen, it will sell like hot cakes. I do not want to blame Italians for this phenomenon, on the contrary, we all need to congratulate them for having built such trust in their products.
The fuss about the quality of ingredients is phenomenal in Italy. I’ve discussed this several times with Italian chef Claudio Chinali, the director of Eataly and executive chef of Terrazza Italia located inside Eataly Istanbul. In 2021, Chinali was decorated with the prestigious title “Cavaliere dell’Ordine della Stella d’Italia” or in other words “Order of the Star of Italy,” an honorary recognition awarded to Italian citizens or foreigners who contribute to Italian culture in many different fields and disciplines. He truly deserves another star from the Turkish side for his contribution to the gastronomic scene in Türkiye. Last year, he was named the "Best Foreign Chef" in the country, but his expertise is not limited to Italian cuisine; I must say that Claudio has an amazing knowledge of Turkish products, way more than most Turkish chefs. It is part of his job to source the best of the best, as it’s the very foundation principle of Eataly, whatever they sell must be of the highest quality, preferably supporting local small producers in line with the Slow Food philosophy. Parallel with this principle, Chinali scours the country to find artisanal small producers, gets in touch with Slow Food Convivium groups across the country and gives them space on Eataly shelves, also including the products in his frequently changing seasonal menus in Terrazza Italia, where he tries to accentuate the lesser-known dishes of regional Italian cooking. This year he started a series of Chef’s Table events where he makes a special seasonal menu giving the stage to surprise dishes that are not normally in the usual menu of Terrazza Italia. On July 11, I was lucky to attend the third event, making me remember the joy of “fare la scarpetta” while making me sad having missed the former two events in May and June.
Let’s come to the term first. “Fare la scarpetta” literally means to “make or do the little shoe” referring to mopping the sauce of a dish by scraping the plate with a morsel of bread. We have the exact habit in Türkiye, especially at homes where cooking juices of a one-pot dish or olive-oil braised vegetables are best enjoyed when chunks of bread are on the play to mop up the juices. The origin of the word has different stories in Italy, but a scarpetta is also the little Venetian slipper which is very similar to the Ottoman “terlik,” a half-shoe that easily slides into one’s feet. In fine dining, or at elite tables, this very habit of dunking bread in food is a little bit frowned upon and considered as an act of home cooking “Cucina popolare” where you may not have any inhibitions regarding table manners. Scraping clean a plate is simply not considered good etiquette. To admit, when we were placed at our tables in Terrazza Italia, I found it a bit odd to have a whole loaf of bread the size of almost half a baguette, instead of little buns or sliced bread. The chef said to break it into two to share since the bread signifies sharing and friendship on the table. We did so. Still, I must admit that I considered it rather as a gimmick. The first course was like a finger food amuse-bouche, a very fine interpretation of a Sicilian arancino. However, when we had the Napoletana “Puparuoli” I realized why we had such a big loaf of bread on the table. Completely letting loose myself in the truly authentic taste of the roast pepper perfection, I found myself dunking my bread in the sauce, barely noticing Chinali’s voice behind me, saying “Fare la scarpetta!” He was encouraging us to put aside fine dining constraints and focus on enjoying the plate as anyone in Italy would do. Thanks to Claudio Chinali for reminding me of the joy of eating in Italy, without inhibitions. They say, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do." Well, we did so, eating out of hand as a Sicilian, and scraping clean our plates like Neapolitan. “Fare la scarpetta” might be a unique Italian phrase, but it is also a concept we share that embodies both the country’s culinary and cultural traditions.
