The Evolution of
Jota
Cesare Fonda gives a very interesting
discussion of Jota in Cucina Carsolina, his book on the cooking
of the Karst plains, a region that's now in part Italy, and in part
Slovenia:
It's worth detouring to
discuss the origins and evolution of this dish that
brings together and characterizes the cooking of Trieste
and the Carso. Nobody will ever know if its Jota was
born in town or up in the hills, but considering that
it's a mixture of boiled beans and capuzi garbi
(sauerkraut) cooked in an earthenware pot, it certainly
came into being as a way to use up leftovers. One can
conclude this because even now its preparation requires
two pots, and a skillet for the
disfritto that's used to thicken it and almost
all of our other soups.
Nor do we know when Jota was
first prepared; perhaps in the 1300s, using the only
beans available at the time (black eyed peas), boiled
with capuzi garbi that we were already making....
However, I think it came into being in the 1600s, when
the "modern" beans arrived from the Americas.
All the modern writers,
including me, have accepted a "rich" modern version that
also has barley as being from the Karst mountains, since
it's more common there, but it's important to note that
it too is a recycling of leftovers, as it's simply a
combination of
orzo e fasoi (barley and beans) and capuzi
garbi. One must also note that the basic recipe ...,
which is quite frugal and now rarely made, undoubtedly
resembles the original jota, which dates to the days
when the farmers and the vast majority of the
townspeople shared a brutal poverty known simply as
miseria (misery); indeed, we find the same recipe in Marija
Remec's Domaca Kuha (home cooking), which was
printed in Lubiana (ex Yugoslavia) in 1942, a time that,
in terms of abundance, was on a par with the worst
famines of the middle ages.
Fifteen years previously
Maria Stelvio had published her book,
Cucina Triestina, which includes a jota recipe that's almost as
poor; with respect to Ms. Remec's recipe she adds 12
ounces of potatoes and a bay leaf, with the option of
replacing the potatoes with two handfuls of corn meal.
This substitution brings to mind the jota recipe Jacopo
Cavalli published in 1890, after transcribing the words
of Antonia Nigrisin, known as Bagatina, who was
84 at the time and one of the last people capable of
speaking the ancient local argot. "Put the beans in one
pot," she said, "and the capuzi in another, and boil
both until cooked through. Add liquid if need be, and
when they're done don't drain them, but stir the capuzi
into the beans, then add a fistful of cornmeal to keep
it all from being too watery; the soup will thicken and
be more satisfying. To season it, take a pot and sauté
some onion, leek or garlic, and breadcrumbs in olive
oil, and stir the mixture into the soup. Season with
salt to taste. [A simplified translation from her
dialect]."
One also has to
mention that Caterina Prato, in her
Süddeutsche Küche, initially published in 1892 when Austria was
still leader (and still widely used in Friuli today, albeit in
translation), gives a jota recipe much like this, except for the use of
onion instead of garlic, and a little parsley in the seasoning mix.
Slovenska Kuharica (Slovene Cooking), published in 1963, uses onion
instead of garlic, and potatoes, but omits the parsley. Two years later
Ivan Ivacic published
Kuharska Knjiga (Cookery Book), which has a jota recipe with
garlic, potatoes, smoked pork and bullion
– the first
"rich" modern version to be presented in Slovenia.
At this point it's
clear that the basic jota, be it from Trieste or the Karst plains, can
contain garlic or onion (and some use both), as well as potatoes or corn
meal. One might think that the rich versions with
luganega sausage or spare ribs date only to the
great economic boom that dragged Italy out of poverty in the 60s, but
this isn't true; there have always been "rich" variations, not just of
jota, but also of bean soup, which goes so well with pork that one might
be tempted to have a pig swim about in it. The "rich" versions were,
however, reserved for the well off, while the masses only enjoyed them
on Sundays, if they could, or on special occasions.
None can deny that
abundance is the best of conditions to find oneself in, but it is also
true that overabundance produces distortions: In gastronomy the most
evident are those that come with the frantic search for novelty at all
costs. And thus we have a famed Umbrian cook, who can't see the ocean
from his windows even with the aid of a telescope [a reference to
Gianfranco Vissani, considered by many to be Italy's top chef], invent a
jota with Pilgrim Scallops and gain the unconditioned applause of the
snobs throughout the Peninsula. Those from Trieste and the Carso were
instead at first taken aback, and then laughed.
Source:
- Italian Cuisine -
http://italianfood.about.com/library/weekly/aa022801.htm (excerpt)
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