By the Book: Luca Manfè’s Frico
I have never watched “MasterChef,” Fox’s culinary competition where groups of home cooks duke it out for the chance to impress judges Gordon Ramsay, Joe Bastianich and Graham Elliot to earn the title MasterChef. So when “My Italian Kitchen: Favorite Family Recipes” by Season Four winner Luca Manfè crossed my desk, I truly had no idea what to expect from him or the recipes.
If you love cookbooks for the culinary education and elegant food writing that accompanies photos of sumptuous dishes, “My Italian Kitchen” is not your read. Manfè’s first book is clearly tied to promoting his win as MasterChef (and presumably future seasons). Forewords from judges Ramsay and Bastianich are expectedly glowing, applauding the restaurant manager and home cook extraordinare’s perseverance in the face of cutthroat culinary competition -- and Ramsay’s yelling face. Manfè’s own introduction reads like an acceptance speech at a high school awards ceremony, praising the opportunity the show gave him and talking about how he’d “never won anything in his life.”
However, the advantage of a book written by a home cook is that the recipes are relatively simple, quick and delicious. You won’t find delicate chocolate tuile-topped desserts, obscure ingredients or preparations requiring immersion circulators or 17 pans. Manfè draws heavily on his family’s Italian roots in Fruili-Venezia Giulia to offer dishes that are varied, flavorful and true to the region.
I decided to try Manfè’s Frico, a dish he declares “one of the most traditional dishes in Fruili.” Here is where his knowledge of the region’s rich culinary tradition shines; he goes into great detail about the dish and it’s history. Essentially, a frico is a large onion and potato pancake oozing with one pound (yes, a pound) of traditional Montasio cheese. And there are few things better in this world than a plate of molten cheese, especially when its encased in a crisp golden shell.
The ingredients are simple and few (onions, potatoes, olive oil, cheese), but tracking down both aged and young Montasio cheese proved trickier here in St. Louis than in Fruili. However, Manfè advised purchasing one young cheese (no older than two months) and one aged at least six months; he recommended an Asiago or a young Gruyere. I found a two-month Kasseri and a six-month Asiago that melded beautifully together.
The toughest part of this dish comes at the very end -- the flip. Sauce intern Mary Baker, who patiently sliced onions and grated potatoes, held the camera at the ready while I placed a dish atop a sizzling pan of bubbly cheese as Manfè instructed, to document the flip (and a potential worker’s comp case, I thought) and I wondered exactly how I planned to get this sticky, cheesy pancake back into the pan. Much like flipping that first pancake, it didn’t quite turnout as prettily as I’d hoped.
Luckily, I am an expert at covering up culinary mistakes (from years of turning overloaded omelets into last-minute “scrambles”). After the frico thoroughly browned on the other side, I popped the serving plate on top and flipped it again, hiding the ugly, half-crusted side on the bottom.
The result was gooey, stunning fried cheese held together by tender onion strings and soft potato shreds. The fried crust provided crunch and a delicious caramelized cheese flavor. Mary and I should have let the frico rest a few minutes before slicing, but after nearly 45 minutes of smelling sauteed onions and bubbly cheese, we couldn’t resist. Serve up this dish with a fresh green salad, a slice of toasted baguette, and, as Manfè insists, lots and lots of red wine from Fruili.