All language subtitles for Nigellissima.S01E03.720p.iP.WEB-DL.AAC.H.264-BCH

When I'm in Italy,
when I'm on holiday,

the first thing I do is go to

a market.
And, of course, it's about the food,

but it's not just about the food.

It's the attitude as well.

Buongiorno!Buongiorno.

Posso prendere...?Si.

I really try and hold on to that
when I'm at home,

because I really believe that if you
bring that attitude to your cooking,
and that enjoyment,

then that pleasure translates
to the people who are eating
what you've cooked,

and that makes me happy.

Ciao! Buongiorno!

And when I'm cooking for friends
at home,

a favourite is roast pork loin
rolled with Parma ham and oregano,

served atop a messy bed of rocket.

Alongside is my express take on
a classic Roman dish

of artichokes, peas and beans.

If we're talking effortless
but impressive,

you can't beat a pudding
of frozen berries

blanketed with white chocolate
and Limoncello sauce.

Here we are!Lovely!

But when I want to bring

something delicious to the table
just for myself,

a new favourite
is my spelt spaghetti

with a no-cook olive
and anchovy sauce.

If I ever have any time to myself,

which, believe me,
is a pretty rare occurrence,

my ideal is a gentle
stove-side pottering

followed by a languorous sweet eat.

I am ready for my sambuca kisses
and, what's more,

they are the weekend brunch
of my dreams.

Start off with just under
half a tub of ricotta.

That's what keeps them light
in part.

And I want one egg.

You don't really need to beat it in,
just stir.

No challenges here.

I call them sambuca kisses
for a reason.

The sambuca part is here.

Lots of people are put off this

cos it tends to be the first drink
anyone ever gets drunk on.

They have sambuca kisses
of a different sort,

but the slight breath of aniseed
it gives really converts people.

And I call them kisses
because what they taste like are...

doughnuts made not of batter,
but of sweet air.

It is like the lightest,
most fluttering caress in the mouth.

And to balance that,

I have orange zest -
again, just about a teaspoon.

Oh! Here comes the sun.

Teaspoon of sugar,
they're not terribly sweet.

And now, I need about
an espresso cup-worth of flour...

..and a teaspoon of baking powder.

It's quite a lot for
the amount of batter here,

but they puff up so gloriously.

And this is pretty well
an instant mix.

And frying them takes
under five minutes.

All very relaxing.

I find it makes life easier

to oil a teaspoon or,
at least, dip it in oil

before using it to scoop out
some of this golden batter.

And then, they just drop in.
They puff up immediately,

a bit like toffee apples you get
in Chinese restaurants,

only much lighter.

I like it when the round
little kisses grow tails.

That's more crunch later,

so you have the gentle, soft
interior, and then a bit of crunch.

Just going to turn them a bit
in the oil.

There, they're crisp and tanned,

and they're coming out.

Right, I want my coffee on my tray,

I want the kisses on my plate.

Oh! They're so light,

they make frying feel celestial.

I'm being generous with
some icing sugar,

which is one of the reasons
I didn't add a lot of sugar

when I was making the mixture.

Oh, my goodness me!

I can't look at these
without feeling hungry.

They are the perfect any-time treat.

I want them now.

There's not a type of pasta
I don't love.

This larder is gratifyingly
full of the stuff.

But recently, I've developed
something of a pash for
spelt spaghetti.

But, you know, there's nothing new
under the sun

and spelt is, in fact,
an ancient wheat.

It's robust, it's earthy,
and it deserves a full-on sauce.

When I say a full-on sauce,

I am talking about flavour.

Effort is minimal.

My spelt spaghetti with olives
and anchovies is a breeze.

In they go.

These hessian, woven strands.

It's a bit like
wholewheat spaghetti, spelt spag,

only not quite as dense.

Now, the sauce.

No cooking involved.

Tumbling in of ingredients
and a quick glitz.

Start off with some olives.

I prefer green,

but the only important thing
is that they're pitted.

And anchovies.

This sauce is, at least,
loosely based on pesto,

so after these fruits of the earth
and the ocean, some pine nuts.

A good scattering.

Garlic too.

I love the punch you get from
the salty anchovies and the olives,

but really, I need zing as well,
and, for that,

I want a lemon.

And what's more,
zest, as well as juice.

There's no point using
just the juice,

because all the flavours
lie in the zest.

Those aromatic oils.

I'm not going to worry unduly about
getting the odd pip in the sauce.

Parsley is nearly always used
as a garnish.

It's a horrible word,
but that's what it is.

But when you use it
as an actual ingredient,

you notice how strong it is, what
flavour, full of iron as well.

Or that's what it tastes like to me.

I don't need salt,
because of the anchovies.

However, I need oil,
and quite a bit of it,

to help this emulsify

and become a sauce.

I'm ready to blitz.

Even though there are a lot of
anchovies in here,

you'd be surprised how many
anchovy-phobes like this.

And we're done!

Now, I admit,
at this stage

it may not seem to have
the wow factor,

but one taste and it's kapow!

Let's see how the pasta is.

It should be about ready.
I'll have a quick check.

Let's go.

Mmm! Perfect,
still with a bit of bite to it.

Before I drain the pasta,

I want to hive off some of
the starchy cooking water,

as is my wont.

Anticipation.

Final blitz with my pasta water,
just a bit of it.

It's like adding cream to a sauce,
it's just magic.

And now, I'm excited,
cos it's ALL coming together.

Pasta back in its pan, on top...

..a gloop of green sauce.

This spaghetti, that sauce,
they are made for one another,

and for me.

This spelt spag is actually great
cold as well.

So I'll leave some to eat cold,

but I think most now warm.

Herb-flecked and fragrant.

Since I do have some sauce
left in here, not a lot,

but enough for a final anointing.

I hate waste.

I am happy, because I know
its modest appearance

utterly belies its magnificence.

Mmm. Mmm!

I can't stop this!

Posso prendere?Certo.

Grazie.

Even the memory of Italian markets
provides constant inspiration.

Everyone's robust and joyful
attitude towards food

is in my mind whenever I cook.

Never more so than when I'm making
one of my extra special suppers,

roast pork loins served with
broad beans, artichokes and peas,

and my mystery mock mash.

Going to unveil the pork properly
in a minute,

but first, I have
a little aperitif-accompanying
morsel to attend to.

This is the crackling.

After it's had about half an hour
in a really hot oven,

it'll be blistered bronze.
And when it's at room temperature,

I'm going to splinter it
into pieces,

arrange it on some small plates
and sprinkle sea salt all over it.

Yum!

I've used a foil tin just because
I don't want the extra washing-up.

And now, I am ready to roll.

This is just a bit of pork loin
that's been derinded,

and you've seen what's happened to
that, and opened out like a book.

I just ask the butcher to do it,

because I'm not very good at
knife skills.

And, anyway, at supermarkets,

they will often do it for you now
as well.

I'm flavouring this pork
from within.

Start off with garlic.

I know that it's falling
into clumps,

but I'll smooth it
with a spatula later.

Mmm.

This is one of those recipes
that looks quite complicated

when you see it in its finished
glory, but it's very simple.

Next, some fresh oregano leaves.

I love this method
of flavouring from within.

It means you really get it
intensely.

And I'm leaving the stalks from
these leaves to cook alongside,

to flavour any juices.

So now, I've got
the heat of the garlic

and the meadow sweetness
of the oregano.

On top, I am going for the honeyed
saltiness of the Parma ham.

In fact, you could say
going the whole hog.

Pig on pork.

Beautiful.

It makes the rolling up easier
later on

if you lay these beautiful
thin slices,

pink as a kitten's tongue,
horizontally.

I'm intensifying
the heat of the garlic

with the fieriness of some
dried red chilli flakes.

It always makes me feel
very Italian.

I am going to start rolling.

Try and roll it up tightly,

so you keep all the flavour in,

and it'll just curlicue out
as it cooks.

Perfect.

When you get the pork, ask for a bit
of butcher's twine at the same time

and don't feel that you need to be
expert to do this.

When you've seen me tie it,
in very inept knots,

you will feel reassured.

These are not proper knots.
Terrible knots, in fact.

But that's... That's how I roll.

These need to be, I would say,
at about four-centimetre intervals.

So we've got flavour
running through it

and now, I need a little
flavour platform to lie it on.

You can use onions,
but I am a banana shallot freak,

so I'm slicing these.

No need to peel.

And then, you could arrange them
on your roasting tray...

..and then scatter the stalks
that you've got left over

from the leaves that are inside...

..and then sit this baby on top.

There, you lie there, my beauty.

A little drizzle of olive oil,
regular olive oil.

And then when it's had about
an hour and a quarter

in the hot oven,

it'll be golden on top
and cooked inside.

The pork pretty much cooks itself
from now on in.

I do need to spruce myself up
a little.

But otherwise, first, I want to get
on with my Roman braised vegetables.

They are a freezer standby.

Once in a while, I go shopping

and buy frozen artichoke bottoms,
not hearts,

frozen broad beans
and frozen peas

and keep my stash in the freezer.

I just tip the broad beans
into a bowl

and cover them with boiling water
from a kettle.

Just leave them for a while.

Then I tumble out the pale
artichoke bottoms

onto a chopping board

and slice them thickly.

I go back to the broad beans

and what I like to do is squeeze
each broad bean out of its shell.

If you just give them a bit of
a push, the inner bean pops out.

So now, it's time to get on with
the cooking.

I like to use a shallow casserole
that's not very deep.

I put in it some olive oil,
regular olive oil,

and a knob of butter,
and let these warm.

Into the warm butter and oil,

I add the leaves, stripped
from a few sprigs of thyme.

Such a wonderful scent, they give.

Into this, I clatter in
a packet of frozen peas.

Now, I add the pale strips
of artichoke bottoms

and give the peas
and artichokes a stir.

Now, the bright green broad beans
go into the pan and I add some salt,

good sea salt,
and some white pepper as well.

I add a splash of dry white vermouth

and a splash of water.

And then I stir and wait for
the vegetables to come to a bubble.

Once they are boiling,
I turn them down

and clamp on a lid and let them
braise for about 20, 25 minutes.

Easy-peasy.

Darling, I have to stop
your story...

I'm going to get you to do this.

Thank you very much.

And it may not have...

THEY CHUCKLE

Ciccioli, ciccioli.
Which is? Ciccioli.

Ciccioli, ciccioli. Pork
scratchings.Pork scratchings, yes.

Italian pork scratchings.

Oh, my God! Yes. Oh, my goodness me.

This is exactly how I want it -
super-juicy and golden.

Now, THIS is an example of
laziness rewarded.

I didn't peel the shallots
and I never do,

and the reason why these juices
are so deep and glorious and bronzed

is because it comes from the skins.

And now, the gravy continues
to make itself.

Splash of dry white vermouth,

although do use white wine
if you've got some open.

And another splosh of
recently boiled water.

Let me just scritch about the pan
a bit.

So I can leave that to rest
and I am going to do my mock mash.

I am aware that the notion
of mock mash sounds hideous.

This is fabulous.

I've got some warm milk here,
not too hot, a bit of butter.

The reason why I call this mock mash

is because it tastes like
mashed potato,

but no potato has been harmed
in the making of this dish.

The crucial ingredient -

semolina.

Now, for those of us who had
a lot of semolina pudding at school,

it sounds a bit spooky.

But actually, you know, if you
think polenta, which we're used to,

it is just like that.

And I'm cheesing it up afterwards,

so it is very savoury
and so good with this pork.

The authentic Italian version
would add eggs,

and then let it get cold,
and then cut out shapes.

But why do all that?

I want to grate a bit of nutmeg
into here.

Lovely.

I'll turn this off,
before it gets even thicker,

and whisk in the Parmesan.

I've grated it already, because
they're a greedy lot over there.

It's ready for the bowl.
I mean, it takes hardly any time.

Mmm.

You'd be surprised
how many people eat this

and don't realise
it isn't mashed potato.

A bit more nutmeg.

Now I'm ready for you, my beauty.

This is an easy job,

a few firm slices.

I want them to be fairly chunky,
so they don't fall apart.

I love the way
the unfurling of flavour

is also like the unfurling of
the Italian flag -

the white of the pork,

the red of the chilli
and the green of the oregano.

Tricolore pork.

So now these slices of pork
can nestle in their garden.

So beautiful.

Somehow makes a roast look lighter,
more exciting.

Not that there's anything wrong with
a roast.

I don't want gravy-gravy.

At least, not in the English sense.

I'm far too Mediterranean
this evening.

But I just would like to use
these juices

to add gleam and liquid flavour.

Mmm, beautiful!

A bit of Renaissance polish.

And a tavola!

Oh, what's this?

Pork loin with some oregano
and some Parma ham.Wow!Lovely!

I have some broad beans,
artichokes and peas...Lovely.

..and some mash.

THEY CHATTER

Let me get you some pudding.

Now for my fabulous finale -

frozen berries with a Limoncello
white chocolate sauce.

Cream in, heat on,

gently, gently.

Melting chocolate
has to be cautious.

I want the almost eggy vanilla
richness of the white chocolate

to ooze into the cream.

Sounds very sweet,

and it is.

But the berries are super-sharp
and, besides,

THIS is what is changing this

from what's become something of
a contemporary British classic

into an Italianate version -
I add Limoncello.

Lemon liqueur from
the Amalfi coast.

And this lemonyness really helps

with the sweetness of
the white chocolate as well.

It's all about balance.

So much easier to acquire it
in the kitchen than elsewhere.

So while this melts gently,

the berries can be clattered out
onto the plate.

I do realise these are frozen,
but they are intentionally so.

And a little dousing of Limoncello,
just as the cream had.

Lemony gloss.

Now, the thing is this,
as I pour over the hot sauce,

the icy berries
begin to warm up slightly,

while staying really chilled
in the middle,

and the sauce solidifies
in the iciness of the fruit.

Mmm, utter rapture!

Here we are! Lovely!I'm going to...

Since I have some flowers anyway...

They're still quite sharp
and frozen inside.

OK, so it's both
very sharp and very sweet.

That's really good.

Out of this world.

I am transported
to the Italian seaside.

GRATING
Oh, lovely sound.

Look at these beautiful pink onions,
they make my soul sing.

They would, if I had one!

MUSIC: "Tu Vuo Fa L'americano"

The inner bean, which is a vibrant
beautiful green, pops out.

It's actually rather satisfying,
a bit like squeezing spots.

Sorry!

SHE LAUGHS

OK!

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd