This dapper gentleman is Gabriele D’Annunzio, born in Pescara, Italy in 1863. D’Annunzio had an extraordinary life by any measure: a published poet at sixteen, he was a prolific author and journalist, wrote for Sarah Bernhardt, collaborated with Debussy, had a scandalously public love affair, spawned the original NSFW urban myth, fled Italy to avoid paying his debts, led a propaganda war on Vienna, lost an eye as a fighter pilot, proclaimed himself a dictator, declared war on Italy, was honoured by the King and survived (just) attempted murder.
He is said to have inspired fascist ideology of the time, and was given a state funeral by Mussolini – clearly his politics can’t fail to be controversial today but, whatever his views, Italy would linguistically be very different without him.
The letter he wrote to Fiat’s founder, Giovanni Agnelli, helped to seal the grammatical femininity of the automobile in its early days: D’Annunzio argued that the car should be a lei, as it has “the grace, slenderness and the vivacity of a seductress”. (He also noted that it possessed one virtue not known among women: “perfect obedience”.) We would not now lust over handbags in La Rinascente without D’Annunzio. He also came up with the name of Saiwa, the biscuit brand which is as quintessentially Italian as the McVities Digestive is British.
And he – and now you understand his inclusion in this post – italianized the English word for sandwich, coining tramezzino. Literally it means a little partition (the diminuitive of “tramezzo”), but there are connotations of between (“tra”), something halved (“mezzo” = half), and something put between two carriers (a “mezzo” is a means, often of transport, but perhaps here a means of carrying the filling within). Genius, I’m sure you’ll agree.
The tramezzino as it is known today originated in Turin, the first served at the gorgeous Caffé Mulassano in 1925. Mr R&R has a wistful affection for the bancone at Zucca where his mum went religiously each morning and which made tramezzini in seemingly endless flavour combinations. They are usually displayed piled up on plates behind the glass counter, the fillings enticingly turned towards you, offering an impossible choice.
These are a savoury mid-morning snack, a spuntino, or indeed a complete lunch, to be eaten at the bar with a caffé (in contrast to the breakfast cappuccino/brioche, or the mid-afternoon merenda). Rigorously crust-free, they should be made with square slices of pan carré, the superior Italian version of sliced bread, and cut into two triangles or rectangles as you will (rectangles only in my house please).
I think of the tramezzino as the boisterous, bold-flavoured younger brother of the fey afternoon-tea finger sandwich. It’s a simple thing but a beautiful one, and I hope very much it will rock your world, as it has mine.
The bread
Makes two 1lb loaves
Here, I’m giving an adaptation of a white loaf from Peter Reinhart’s Bread Baker’s Apprentice: , because the ingredients are readily available here in the Bahamas and it slices beautifully thin. Strictly speaking, one should use pan carré but I am certainly not qualified to suggest a canonical recipe, so please consult the brilliant and authoritative Adriano at Profumo di Lievito if you want to be truly authentic.
- 540g white bread flour
- 11g salt
- 45g sugar
- 7g sachet instant yeast
- 1 large egg
- 60g butter at room temperature
- 350ml buttermilk (or whole milk)
Combine the flour, salt, yeast and sugar in a large bowl. Add the butter in little pieces, crack the egg in too and add nearly all the buttermilk. Mix with one (very messy) hand to start forming a shaggy dough, adding the remaining buttermilk as needed to make a soft and supple dough.
Knead on a floured worksurface for about 10 minutes, until the dough is nice and smooth and shiny and passes the windowpane test.
Put in an oiled bowl and cover with clingfilm. Let it rise at room temperature for about 2 hours until doubled in size, or put in the fridge overnight.
Divide the dough in half and shape into rounds and leave to relax for 20 minutes. Now shape as for sandwich loaves, place in two greased 1 lb tins, cover with cling film again and leave to prove again until nearly doubled in size (probably around 1 1/2 hours). Meanwhile preheat the oven to 170˚C.
Sprinkle with flour and bake for about 40 minutes until the loaves are beautifully brown and sound hollow when tapped underneath. Leave to cool on racks.
To make the tramezzini, slice off the crusts with a good bread knife and cut into thin slices: horizontal slices (rather than normal vertical bread slices) are best for making lots, slather with fillings (below), slice again into rectangles or triangles (if you must) and devour.
The filling
The filling should enable you to eat with one hand while gesticulating with the other. It shouldn’t require an excessive amount of mastication, nor should bits and pieces pull free from the remaining sandwich and fall to the floor. No parsley, no garlic. La figura is all.
Some favourite things to put in a tramezzino:
Italian:
- Hardboiled egg (sliced), anchovies, capers and mayonnaise (as pictured)
- Leftover frittata and mayonnaise
- Good quality tinned tuna, tiny cubes of tomato and mayonnaise
- Prosciutto cotto or mortadella with tomato and mayonnaise
- Salami with artichokes (the ones in bottles of oil)
- Truffled cheese
Anglo:
- Roast chicken and mayonnaise
- Coarsley grated cheddar and mayonnaise
- Hard-boiled egg (mashed) and cress, with mayonnaise
- Any combination of smoked salmon, “waffer” thin peeled cucumber slices and cream cheese
- Lobster chunks and mayonnaise
Heretical:
- Marmite and butter
You may have spotted a common thread in the suggested fillings above, so you will definitely need a recipe for:
The mayonnaise
I haven’t been able to look at a jar of Hellmans the same way after a friend noted that commercial mayo had the texture of vomit. I don’t hold with the thinking that olive oil makes mayonnaise too rich. Bring it on, I say.
- 1 egg yolk
- 150ml oil – I use roughly half and half of the best, greenest, punchiest olive oil and something innocuous like grapeseed
- Salt, lemon juice, wine or cider vinegar, smooth mustard to taste
Whisk the egg yolk (for God’s sake, use an electric whisk) with a drop of the oil, and continue to add the oil drop by drop until you see the mixture thickening. Then you can start to pour in the thinnest stream possible until it’s all incorporated and the mayonnaise is voluminous, glossy and (depending on your oil) the colour of sunshine and fresh grass. Hurry, and you’ll have to throw the whole lot out, so pazienza here. Add a fat pinch of salt, a tsp of vinegar, a squeeze of lemon and a quarter tsp of Dijon mustard to taste. Spread, generously, on each slice of bread.
6 Comments on "The cult of tramezzino"
I make my cheese toasties with pan carre, and very crispy and vehicle-for-butter-y they are too, I shall be sure to eat lots of tramezzini when we go to Italy at the end of the week ^_^
Ooh so jealous! Eat one with anchovies for me… (and if you can stop at just one, you’re made of sterner stuff than me). Buon viaggio…
I have a question ,for how long can stay one tramezzino in an unconserved pack?
Trackbacks for this post