Pittule Salentine, fried dough balls from Salento
That of pittule is a very soft dough, actually more similar to a leavened batter, enriched with the most Mediterranean ingredients you can imagine.
The first time I ate pittule at my in-laws was the 8th of December, 2013. I had been dating Tommaso for a few months, and that was my first official invitation to join the family for a festive meal, even though I was already a regular guest of the house.
Food quickly became a primary subject of conversation with Lucia, Tommaso's mum. I was fascinated by her Apulian upbringing and the recipes she was slowly introducing me to.
We lost Lucia last year in May, after a long illness. So, unfortunately, I didn't have much time to get to know her, her love for art, her talent for drawing, her passion for roses, her profound love for Tommaso and his father.
But I've always considered food our special connection, since the very first time she invited other friends and me to stay for dinner: I can make pizza, she had said as if it was the most natural thing in the world to have a bunch of people she didn't know over for dinner. I barely knew Tommaso at that time, but she had already conquered me with pizza.
The second time I met her, months later, I was scared and excited at the same time, as it was the first time I was introduced as an official girlfriend. She was in the kitchen in Bivigliano, in their summer house in the hills over Florence, and I'm pretty sure she was busy at the stove, cooking something for lunch.
Now I'm slowly cooking through the Salento cookbook I bought the first time I went to Lecce to visit Tommaso's uncle and aunt. I'm bringing Lucia's traditions to life, like the pittule on festive eves, and I'm practising learning local, traditional recipes such as orecchiette, taralli, and rustici. I’m doing this to strengthen the bond I immediately felt with Lucia, and to create new traditions to pass on to Livia.
Today is Saint Lucia. I've never celebrated Santa Lucia growing up, as all my child's attention was focused on Santa Claus, while Tommaso used to celebrate this day just as his mum's name day, buying her every year a bright red poinsettia. But since we have Livia, we started celebrating Saint Lucia to honour the memory of her nonna. Livia will grow knowing that her nonna loved her from the very first moment she learnt that she was going to be a grandmother, that she protects her, cares for her, and sends her a gift through her homonymous saint, who visits the children with her donkey on the night between the 12th and the 13th of December.
To celebrate Lucia’s memory, today I'm sharing the recipe to make pittule that you can save for Christmas' Eve, or for when you need a quick, delicious appetiser to serve with a bubbly drink.
Pittule Salentine, fried dough balls from Salento
Pittule are usually made on the eves of festive days, especially on the 7th of December, the day before the Immaculate Conception, and usually the official beginning of the festive season in Italy, and on the 24th of December. They cheer up the mood of lean days when the food is by tradition without meat or animal fat, even though it is definitely everything but sad.
That of pittule is a very soft dough, actually more similar to a leavened batter, enriched with the most Mediterranean ingredients you can imagine: pitted olives, capers, diced peeled tomatoes, and fillets of anchovies. The dough is dropped in the hot oil by the spoonful: it immediately puffs up into a round, pillowy ball of dough. Fry it until slightly golden, then transfer to a large bowl lined with kitchen paper and enjoy immediately.