Mantecatura

I may have fallen beyond the limits of the art of translation; but I have noticed that when conversation takes you down unexpected avenues and you continue willingly with it, you find yourself in a new realm of meaning, which is not where you meant to go but perhaps that is only because your sense of direction is not that subtle.  Case in point, Mantecatura, I was reading about risottos (a favourite past time, anti pasta time, of the gluten intolerant) when I found this word.

from Oggi

Having an Italian in my life I leaned against his kitchen’s doorway and asked for a definition of this word.   He described it as a bringing together, the final incorporation of flavour and flavours before you serve a dish, as he tossed the hot pan of pancetta, wine, pasta and freshly added egg and parmigiano-reggiano that would momentarily be served as carbonara, to demonstrate.

He more memorably defined it a few days later when I attempted to cook an Ottolenghi feta-fish stew. When pushed to give an opinion, “Well, did you like it?”, he responded, “it had nice flavours but it lacked….mantecare”. I had failed to bring Ottolenghi’s fabulous Mediterranean stew with a feta twist together.

And so I have come to think a little more of Mantecare, the combination of elements and those steps or points where you amalgamate parts into a greater whole. In a risotto, where the word is generally used, it is the last of a successful series of steps when you generously add Parmesan, maybe some butter, and if you are my Australian friend, a final drop of the white wine and mix it through.  

Mantecatura is more than parsley sprinkle or mint sprigs used to dress a dish, or salt to bring out the flavour. It is elsewhere to the foundation of good cooking, which is good ingredients; use a good stock in a risotto and the rest of the ingredients, bar the cheese, are food thrills.

The essence of Mantecare strikes me as being more than adding a bit of butter or cheese to risotto. Here is where I wander from translation, is mantecare the generosity of ingredients and thought when you taste something in the process and decide that it is good but something more is needed? Is it the hat upon which you stick your feather and then tilt it to a cocky angle? I made a cake yesterday, whiskey and chocolate and while the recipe stopped with sprinkling more booze upon the cake, I thought it could go further. If I stopped there it would have been attention, not love.  From a different angle, it is a creator standing before a work and not finishing until they utter, “it is good”.

And so the cake received a dressing, an icing of orange and sugar to set off the chocolate and whisky. While it is not beautiful, my cooking and dressing rarely is, I hope that this time I have approached mantecare.