02x06 - Sardinia

[bunniefuu]

- There's a story that goes,
when God created the world,

he took all the leftover bits

and wanted to make something
beautiful with them,

so he made Sardinia.

And there's something to that.

Sardinia is really an
island of bits and pieces,

in the best possible way.

Each local community is
like an island of its own,

with wildly varying
geography, languages...

- And food.

- Bello.
- Wow.

Put together, you get a region

with a ferocious
independent streak.

Cheers.

- A little bit Italian

and a little bit
something else entirely.

Man.

Incredible.

I'm Stanley Tucci.

I'm fascinated by
my Italian heritage,

so I'm travelling across
Italy to discover how the food

in each of this country's
20 regions is as unique

as the people and their past.

Oh, in between my legs?

Sardinia is Italy's Wild West.

God damn it.

And although they
respect tradition,

things here are never dull.

Ah! Ah!
- Ah!

- Out here, nothing stands
in the way of freedom...

- It's different.
- Okay.

Because this is a place
at the edge of reason.

I am very adventurous, but
sometimes I have real fear.

I think this is
one of those times.

Due West of Rome and
right in the middle

of the Mediterranean Sea,

Sardinia is so cut off

from the rest of the
Italian peninsula

that fellow compatriots
joke about it

being a mini continent,

with customs and
ideas all of its own.

Its capital, Cagliari,
sits on the south coast.

For over five millennia,
its vast harbor

has attracted visitors
from far and wide

who, once here,

often find it very
hard to leave.

Many have stayed to trade here,

others to conquer,

and a few, like food
writer Letitia Clark,

have simply followed
their hearts.

Ciao.
- Ciao.

Lovely to meet you.
- How are you?

It's so nice to meet you too.
- Welcome to Cagliari.

- But you came from London...

- Because I fell in love.
- 'Cause you fell in love.

- With a Sardinian.
Yeah, exactly.

- And then you fell
in love with Sardinia.

- Yeah. It's an
incredible place

and it's very under-explored.

It has an amazingly
rich culture.

And because it's an
island, historical methods

have been preserved with
such kind of tenacity,

it's amazing.

- Each wave of settlers
has left its own mark

on the island's capital,
so much so that eating here

is like going on the
culinary equivalent

of an archaeological dig.

This is gorgeous.

- And there's some
beautiful fish.

- Letitia has taken me
to San Benedetto Market

to do some excavating.

- Parago, parago.
- Is it like an orata?

- Si.

The fruits of the
Mediterranean Sea

are everywhere you look.

But for Letitia, there's one
delicacy from far-off shores

that trumps all the others.

- Okay, so this is bottarga,
which is one of Sardinia's

most prized, most celebrated,
most delicious products.

- Put simply,
bottarga is fish roe

that's first salted, then cured.

This method of
preservation was invented

over 3,000 years ago
by the Phoenicians.

These renowned seafarers
brought bottarga here

from modern-day Lebanon.

But it's only when
made with the eggs

of Sardinia's gray mullet that
something magical happens.

- So bottarga.
- Shall we try it?

- Try.

Caviar of Sardinia.

- I could eat that all day.

- Buttery.
- It is very buttery.

- Yeah.
- And super salty.

- Have you tried the Sicilian
one which is made from tuna?

- I have. I prefer this.
- Prefer this one.

You're a fully-fledged
Sardinian now.

If you say that the
bottarga of Sardinia

is the best in Italy,
they'll give you citizenship.

- Yeah, it's true. I know.

I need it.

After 3,000 years of trade,
invasions, and conquests,

it seems the people of
Cagliari have a knack

for taking the best of
what's been brought here

and making it their own.

To further prove that point,

Letitia's taking me
just south of Cagliari

to the Lagoon of Nora, to sample

yet another treat that
washed up on these shores

a millennium or two ago.

And no, it's not a fish.

Hey, leave that fish alone.

Hi.

- Beautiful place for
scaling a fish, right?

Yeah.

Oh, this is scorpionfish.
- Scorpionfish.

And it's beautiful.
It's super fresh.

Catch this morning.

- Head Chef Francesco
Stara might be known

for his sparkling fresh seafood,

but at Fradis
Minoris restaurant,

there's one local specialty
he can't take off the menu,

fregola ai frutti di mare.

- So we start from the
semola from the Urzulei area.

- It all starts with a pasta

that looks curiously
like couscous.

- You're just gonna put
a few drops of warm water

and start to create the lumps.

It is relaxing.

- It is relaxing. Yeah.

Fregola's origins are
difficult to unearth.

Wow.

Some say it was brought
here by the Phoenicians.

Others that it came
from North Africa.

- Supposedly a woman
who could make fregola

was deemed to be kind of
good marriage material.

- Really?

- And that was her
kind of proposition

to her potential husband.

I can make fregola, so I'm
gonna make you a good wife.

- Really?

Well, I'm gonna have to
talk to my wife about that.

- There we go.

- Cheers.
- Salute.

- Salute.
- Salute.

Luckily for us, this
island has fantastic beer.

It's like 90-something
degrees in Sardinia now.

And we've just made this...

You've just made
this beautiful thing.

- We've done nothing.
We were just...

- Yeah. We've done nothing.

We had to have a beer.

- There we go.

- It's not just
fregola's larger grains

that distinguish this dish
from its North African cousin.

It's also the tradition
of serving it with fish.

- The scorpionfish that
we got this morning,

what we're gonna do is
just, we're gonna fillet it.

- It's a beautiful
flesh, isn't it?

Yeah.

- This is it.
- So there's that.

- Then we will
blanch our octopus.

There we go.

- Gorgeous.

After being toasted
to enhance the flavor,

the fregola are
quickly blanched.

- So you're cooking
it like pasta.

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

- Just season with
a bit of olive oil.

- Often this dish
can be hearty fare,

but at Fradis Minoris, it
becomes something refined.

Is this the...

The scorpionfish, raw?

- Yes, it's the
raw scorpionfish.

We're gonna finish it
up with some bottarga.

- And finally, a
rich tomato broth

flavored with
fragrant local herbs

and the shells of
the day's catch.

- Andiamo.

In honor of all the gifts from
visitors past and present,

it's only right and proper
to celebrate Cagliari

within site of the old
Phoenician ruins of Nora.

- Wow. Thank you.

- One fregola,
with mixed seafood.

- How beautiful.

- Oh, you're going
to eat with us.

- Yeah, please.
- Perfect.

- Okay.

- Buon appetito.
- I'm very excited.

Oh, yum.

That's great.

It's so delicate.

- Yes.
- Fantastico.

- And I like the fact
that every little piece

is slightly different.
- Yeah.

They are like little
pearls, aren't they?

- Yeah, they are.
It's, like, nubbly.

- It is nubbly.

Francesco has
taken an ingredient

once foreign to these
shores and transformed it

into something
uniquely Sardinian.

- Those who know the island well

say there are really
two Sardinias.

The coast with its many
foreign occupations

and multicultural mixings,

and up here, 50 miles into
the island's interior.

Amongst the thistles
and the thorns,

this harsh, brutal landscape.

It's a place where people
have always retreated

to escape marauding armies

and where little has
changed for millennia.

These structures here
are known as nuraghe.

They were built by a
people who lived here

almost 4,000 years ago,
so they're practically

as old as the pyramids.

The ancient landscape
is famous for bandits,

age-old customs, and
being very anti-authority.

Rumor has it that
even the mafia failed

to take hold here as
people aren't interested

in group activities of any kind.

But one group dynamic
is not just allowed,

it's positively encouraged.

- Luigi Manias and his family

have been keeping
beehives since 1631,

and Luigi wants to
show me the ropes.

- No.

- Si.

I'm not going near the bees.

We have a long sh**t ahead.

If I, you know, multiple
stings, that'd be bad.

- All spring, the
bees in these hives

work industriously
to collect pollen

from the diverse wildflowers
that flourish here.

- The result is a
thousand-flower honey.

- Oh, my gosh. Beautiful.

Absolutely beautiful.

Oh, my God.

- Mmm. Mmm.

It's so sweet.

Delicious.

Luigi has won multiple
awards for his honey,

but there's one
nectar so prized,

he keeps it hidden away indoors.

Wow.

- Si, si, si.

It's different.
- It's the opposite.

- It's different.
- Okay.

- Stanley.

- This is miele di corbezzolo.

For over 2,000
years, it's been made

from the white, bell-shaped
flowers of the corbezzolo,

or wild strawberry tree.

The blossoms produce
limited nectar,

so this honey is something
of a connoisseur's choice.

- Prego.

When the Romans occupied
Sardinia two millennia ago,

Cicero said, "Everything
Sardinia produces is bad.

Even the honey is bitter."

- No, no, no.

No, no, no, no.

But for Sardinians,

let's just say it's like catnip.

- Wet leaves. Yes.

- It smells like smoke.

It tastes like smoke.

Smoke.

- Yeah.

- Because of its strong
flavor, locals often pair

bitter honey with rich meats.

So Luigi's friend, Giovanni,
has been spit-roasting a lamb.

- Yeah. Yeah.

Yes!

Yes!

- Yeah? Yeah?

No?

- Legend has it
that after stealing

from Roman landowners,

the wily thieves would
repair to the hills

and enjoy this dish, smothered
in the same bitter honey

that their occupiers
had scoffed at.

That's incredible

- Mmm.
- Bello.

- Wow.

It doesn't taste bitter
at all. It's sweet.

But also the fat, mixing in
with the fat, it's perfect.

- This is the food
of resistance.

Wow.

A delicious resistance.

That is not what I expected.

Okay, stop filming.

- Stop. Now.

- Bandits at heart,
the crew can't resist

giving us a helping hand.

- Amazing. Grazie.
- Amazing.

- Grazie. Grazie.

- Climbing further into
Sardinia's interior,

you reach an untouched
region containing

the island's hardest hills
and steepest mountains.

It's known as Barbagia.

Here, shepherds
live from the land

as their ancestors did,

with no one to
interfere with them.

But life here is tough.

Ciao.

- Ah.

Each summer,
Antonio Putzu spends

three hard months herding
Sardo sheep on this mountain.

But like the local shepherds,
the sheep enjoy their liberty.

- But it's a necessary freedom.

Pecorino Sardo, the
island's coveted cheese,

can only be made from the milk
of wild-grazing Sardo sheep.

- Si.

- Okay. Good. Thank
God. Thank God.

- Si. Oh, in between
my legs? Like this?

- Yeah. Now what? Oh, I see.

I swear, it's not just me.

Hand milking is
harder than it looks.

God damn it!

I'm so afraid of hurting it.

You do it.

For Antonio, this
hard work is worth it

for the distinctive, fatty milk

the Sardo sheep produce.

That's a lot of milk. Wow.

- Oh, my God. It's delicious.

- Yeah.

- While much of the
island's grassland

has been sold to private owners,

these rocky outcrops are still
owned by the Sardinian people.

- Grazie.

Beautiful.

The milk from the
Sardo sheep is used

in a surprising
range of cheeses.

- This Pecorino Sardo
is made during winter

when grass and
herbs are plentiful.

Yeah.

Giving the cheese a
mildly aromatic flavor.

That's nice.

- But I've heard
whisperings of another,

more notorious cheese
made in this region.

- Oh, no, those?

- Yeah?

- Due to the presence
of parasites,

it's ill*gal to sell
casu marzu commercially,

but Antonio makes
something close to it,

parasites not included.

- There's a reason Antonio
works on the mountains

and not in marketing.

But here goes.

Mmm.

- No, it's nice.

That's really nice.

Outside, Antonio and
his fellow shepherds

are making a dish as old
as the surrounding hills,

sa ventre.

It's a kind of Sardinian haggis,

and it all starts with another

less than conventional
ingredient,

sheep's blood.

- Pecorino Sardo is added

to bring a nutty, buttery
flavor to the mixture.

And flatbread gives
it body and texture.

- To balance the meaty
richness of the dish,

Antonio has sourced wild
mint from the mountains.

- Oh, yeah.

- Wow.

The mixture is then poured
into a sheep's stomach.

- I am very adventurous, but...

sometimes, I have real fear.

I think this is
one of those times.

Oof.

Cooked for 20 minutes, the
sa ventre is now ready.

But I'm not sure
I'm ready for it.

Cheers.

It's really good.
It's really good.

And I'm not saying it because
my new friends are here.

The mint and pecorino
temper the flavor

of the blood and offal, like
a perfectly seasoned sausage.

- It's delicious.

I don't know that I'll
be making it at home,

but it's delicious.

- As a parting gift,
Antonio and his friends

are sharing a traditional song
in the local Olianese dialect

about two shepherds
who slaughter a sheep

to make sa ventre.

- I just think it's gorgeous.

It's very peaceful.

- It's very quiet. Yeah.
- Yes.

I don't want to tell
anybody about it.

Five miles west of
the Sardinian mainland

sits the small
island of San Pietro,

home to just one
town, Carloforte.

It's an extraordinarily
close-knit community here,

with shared roots
and a shared dialect

dating back over 300 years,
when the town was founded

by just 30 families
from Liguria.

- We have the double language,
Italian and Ligurian.

- Yes. And Ligurian. Yeah.

I absolutely love it!

Chef Luigi Pomata is
taking me to discover

the activity that's always
bound this community together,

tuna fishing.

- We have a respect
for the tuna.

- Yeah, yeah.

- If Carloforte
exists, it exists

because we have the tuna.

- Yeah. Let me
see your tattoo.

- It's Carloforte Island.

- Oh, I see. Yeah.
- And the tuna.

- Oh, that's
good. I like that.

It's not surprising
tuna is something

of a local obsession.

For two months a year,
fishermen come together

to catch the coveted
bluefin tuna,

as it migrates here
from the East Atlantic.

Used in the finest
sushi restaurants,

bluefin is pretty special.

And to catch it, they use
an equally special system

of nets known as tonnare.

- Here we have the nets.

The big line we call
coda is one kilometer.

- Really?
- Yeah.

- The coda blocks the path
of the migrating tuna.

As they swim around it,

they're funneled into a sequence

of netted chambers,
with gaps wide enough

for smaller fish to escape.

The largest tuna
enter a final chamber,

where fishermen work together
in a finely tuned drill

to lift them out of the sea.

Those are all the chambers?

- It's the chamber. Yeah.

- There's no collateral...

- No.

- Damage or anything?
- No.

It's sustainable.

- To avoid overfishing,
the fishermen here

never take more than 8%
of the migrating tuna,

ensuring the Atlantic
bluefin population

remains a very healthy size.

- When the weight is
okay, they open the nets

and 1,000 tuna,
2,000 tuna go out.

That is sustainable.

- Luigi's Ligurian ancestors
learned this way of fishing

in Tunisia, but
here in Carloforte,

they've built a
community around it.

And at his family
restaurant, Luigi is known

to locals as the King of Tuna.

What have you got, Luigi?

- The tuna belly,
in our bellies.

You put the belly in the belly.
- Yeah, belly in the belly.

You want to try?
- Yes!

Oh, my God, yes.

That's the fatty...

- Yes, this is...
This is the chutoro.

- Yeah, the toro,
yeah. Mmm-mmm-mmm.

- You want a taste?
- Yes.

- I like this tuna because
the stomach is empty.

- Once inside the tonnare nets,

the tuna don't eat,

so their flesh is uncontaminated

by the flavors of other fish.

Oh, man!

Incredible.

- Here, the taste is natural.
- Yeah.

- No anchovies, no
mackerel, nothing.

- Luigi's using this tuna
in a local family favorite,

a pasta dish called
cassulli alla Carlofortina.

- Olive oil, pine
nuts, and we blend.

- He's combining it with
pesto and cassulli pasta,

both rooted in
Ligurian tradition.

- It's the pasta we
use for the Sunday.

You know, when all people
come, when family come...

- Right, right.
- And we do the pasta.

- Your grandfather...
- Yeah.

- Started this
restaurant, right?

- Yeah, three generation.

- And will your son do it too?

- I wish.

I wish.

As you can expect, if
your family eats tuna

day in and day out
for every meal,

you get all sorts of ideas
about what to do with it.

So you're gonna use
the boiled tuna.

- The boiled tuna, yes.
- Right.

Yeah, well...

See, I've always
thought tuna should be

cooked lightly or not at
all, but Luigi is adamant.

- You want to taste?
- Sure.

And for him, it's a
great way to retain

the fish's natural moisture.

It's good.

I prefer that.

- We take out the skin.

And we put the tomatoes in.

Now we get the tuna boiling.

And we do that.

- Beautiful pasta.

- And now we put the pesto.

- Yeah.
- Never cook the pesto.

- No.

- A nice portion.

- Yeah, that's beautiful.

- And just in the end, we
put the pecorino cheese.

- A little pecorino.
- Yeah.

You want a taste?
- Yeah!

I thought you'd never ask.

I'm still not convinced by
the idea of boiled tuna.

- That's for you.
- Thank you.

But it's Luigi's
family tradition,

so I'm keeping an open mind.

- It's okay? Gonna
be all right?

Yeah.

- I mean, who am I to argue
with the King of Tuna?

That's very okay.
That's delicious.

Who wants to look at
how beautiful that is?

I'm never using any other
kind of tuna from now on.

It's the sheer individuality
of people like Luigi

that keeps Carloforte
feeling and tasting

totally distinct from anywhere
else you'll find in Sardinia.

- Buongiorno.

- Si.

Nice.

Oh, my God.

- Si.

Doesn't it look like a pork pie?

You can respond to me.
- It does look like a pork pie.

- Thank you. Thanks.
Thanks for your help.

Sitting on the northwest
coast of Sardinia

is the city of Alghero,

known to locals as Barceloneta.

It's had a distinctly
Spanish flavor

ever since the 14th century,

when it was conquered
by the Kingdom of Aragon

from northeast Spain.

Protected by the sea
and the city walls,

the people of Alghero
have a deep attachment

to their local identity.

At the local fish market,

I'm meeting Chef
Antonietta Salaris,

who considers herself
Algherese first

and Sardinian second.

Hey, Giuseppe.

- My understanding
of the local dialect

is limited, to say the least.

But I've always
understood lobster.

- Si, si. Si.

- Okay.

- Okay.

- The pride of the
local community,

Alghero's lobsters
are considered

among the best in the world.

And the secret to
their delicate flavor

is in the local waters.

The Gulf of Alghero is
saltier than the ocean

and filtered by
a red coral reef.

It's unusually clean.

At Antonietta's fish restaurant,

lobster, or the Queen of
the Sea, as locals call it,

has pride of place.

- Antonietta is
making a local dish

called lobster alla Catalana,

which is prepared
with a fresh salad.

Si.

- Whoa! Look at that.

Antonietta belongs to a
long line of Sardinian women

who, since medieval times,
have managed not only the home

but often the family business.

Mmm-mmm-mmm.

- Oh, my God. Yeah.

In America, the eggs
tend to be thrown out.

But Antonietta blends them
with a simple vinaigrette

to add a salty sweet flavor.

- Why is that sound
so satisfying?

On goes the Catalan
salad of onions,

vinaigrette, and tomatoes.

But the local
lobster is the star.

Look at that. Oh, my God.

- Beautiful.

Alghero lobster has
admirers across the world.

Queen Elizabeth II
even requested it

for her wedding banquet.

- Prego.
- Grazie. Oh, my gosh.

So beautiful.

- But there's room
for only one sovereign

in this restaurant.

- Mmm.
- Bravo.

- Si.

- Sardinian Catalans
have had 600 years

to develop the perfect
way to eat a lobster.

And here, under
Antonietta's reign,

no one will be
allowed to forget it.

Wow.

This is so good.

I have to toast to you
because this is just

so f... delicious.

Cheers.

- Cheers, everybody.

- Across the island's interior,

many smaller communities
have fallen into decay,

as jobs in rural industries
have become fewer and fewer.

But in Battista, in
Northeast Sardinia,

baker Simonetta Bazzu came
up with a radical plan

to bring her family
village back to life.

She bought it.

- Si.

- Simonetta fears that
ancient ways of cooking

could be lost as people
leave the island,

so she's restoring
these buildings

and creating a pioneering
cooking school here.

- Si.

As part of her mission,
she's been gathering

the island's endangered recipes.

So far, she's discovered over
a thousand types of bread...

My God.

Often created for
special occasions.

What is that?

- And this is the
bread for Easter.

And we make for...
to give children.

- Oh, really?
- Yes.

- Looks like a mummy.
- And... mm-mm.

- One of the island's most
celebrated bread recipes

is pane carasau, a
3,000-year-old flatbread.

Traditionally, women would
come together to produce

large batches all at once.

And Simonetta has
brought in two recruits,

Chiara and Francesca,
to demonstrate.

You're the best
dressed bread makers

I've ever seen in my life.

- Yes.
- Yes.

So you make the dough.

- Mm-hmm.

- Si.

- Beautiful.

Known as carta da
musica, music paper,

the bread is meant
be rolled so thin

that music can be
read through it.

- Oh, yeah.

- Nowadays, pane
carasau tends to be made

using conventional ovens.

But Simonetta prefers
the authentic flavor

of the wood-fired oven,

even if it requires
a production line.

- Si.

In the extreme heat,

the dough inflates
like a balloon.

Yes.

It's like a magic act.

- But this traditional method
comes with its challenges.

- Ooh! No.
- Oh! Aww.

Ah! Ah!
- Ah!

- No.

- While Simonetta's
baking the dough,

Chiara and Francesca
slice the balloons in two.

Mmm-mmm-mmm.

Each half is then put back
in the oven for a few seconds

to toast.

- These ancient
methods still have

the power to bring
people together,

but the proof is in the pudding.

No, I'm kidding. I'm
kidding. I'm kidding.

It's delicious.

In the Battista of old,
food was in short supply,

so families would
cook a warming dish

with any stale bread left over.

- Si, si, si.

- Si.

The pane carasau is
layered with a lamb

and vegetable broth, local
cheeses, and wild mint.

It's then cooked for 15 minutes.

How beautiful.

Served at big
family celebrations,

the dish is known
as zuppa cuata.

No.
- Yeah. Yeah.

- Jesus.

- A hidden soup.

- Yes.
- Oh, I love that.

Yeah?

- Wow.

In Simonetta's hidden soup lies

an unconcealed commitment.

By reviving ancient
tradition, she'll breathe life

into her village once more.

And this spirit extends
across all of Sardinia.

There's a sense
that each community,

however small, enriches
the whole island.

And it may be that
Sardinia's very diversity,

its bits and pieces,
is exactly what defines

the character of this island.

A mini continent indeed.