Cape Town -There’ll be a spate of new Mafioso movies now. But they won’t be about the Cosa Nostra any longer. No horse’s heads in gory beds. No Sicilian weddings where the guests are very well-behaved lest they don’t make it to the toss-the-garter bit. No cottonwool stuffed into cheeks to perfect the Marlon mumble.
No. They will be about the ’ndrangheta, that menacing word that has been in the wings since at least the 1880s but has suddenly come into the mass public consciousness. All because a cleric issued a warning: they want to take out the pope.
If there is a wedding in the first of the new tradition of Mafioso movies, it will be in Calabria, the boot of Italy, where the ’ndrangheta clans hold sway. You wouldn’t want to have to cater for that wedding. You wouldn’t want to be the one who made the wedding cake that flopped and have Don Scarione eye you as he puts fork to mouth and winces, then beckons a dude in a fedora and whispers in his ear, his eyes not leaving you as he chews his morsel of cake and spits it out.
When you account for 3.5 percent of Italy’s GDP and rake in R480 billion to R550bn a year from charmingly Italian activities such as money laundering and drug trafficking, you get to call the catering shots, just as you get to “influence” matters Vatican.
Of course, being Italian, the ’ndrangheta – which means “the honoured society” – love Italian things. Catholicism, for one. They’re very devout, praying before murdering somebody and going to confession to seek forgiveness afterwards. Convenient, that. Sin, wash it away, and you’re ready to sin again. And always a confessional awaiting. Forgive me, father, for I have sinned, and I’m about to sin again. See you tomorrow.
Food, for another. The ’ndrangheta own many restaurants, one or two of which you may have dined in during a visit to Italy, innocently helping fund organised crime. They even controlled – through one of their many clans elsewhere in the world – the Victoria Market in Melbourne, where MasterChef Australia contestants bought their ingredients in an earlier series.
That could have gone anywhere. There you are, having made it to round 65 of the show, picking your way through the capsicums and jackfruit at the Victoria Market and suddenly somebody’s at your elbow making you an offer you can’t refuse. That’s a real oh-**** moment.
“Um, of course, sir. Your grandmother’s recipe, you say?”
“S’right. Nonna Fabrizia. She make nice. You make.”
“Hmmm. Erm … ragu, you say?”
“S’right. ‘Ragu Mafioso’. Heh-heh.” This through clenched yellowed teeth and cigar breath.
“Oooookay. So… it’s, ahh… beef?
“S’beef.”
“Oh good. And… oh, of course. Garlic, yes?”
“Si. No too much. No too leedle.”
“This, um… much?”
“You make. You taste. I tell you if s’right.”
“Whoopee. Tomatoes, obviously.”
“Si, pomodoro.”
“B…ba ba ba… basil… ah no ... oregano?”
“Si, put oregano. You put basil, gggggggg.” This with his finger slicing his neck.
“Haha, well then. Oregano it is.
“Put sedano, put carota, put campo di funghi.”
“Sid… sed…”
“Celeria, carota, mushroom from field, you put! Put!”
Now he’s grabbing and shoving ingredients into your basket. He’ll see you later, he says. He disappears into the crowd like a Mafioso in need of confession. You’re alone, sweating, a basket shaking in your hand. Back in the kitchen, a great glug of wine, and you start to cook.
Ragu, you tell your teammates, is a dish of beef, or sometimes a game meat such as wild boar, braised slowly with vegetables. It is normal to add red wine, stock, plenty of tomato and to serve it with pasta and grated Parmesan. Since you value your life, you might want to make that Parmigiano Reggiano, rather than Grana Padano or (may God forgive you) Pecorino. A few Hail Marys would not seem out of place either.
Beef ragu Mafioso
Serves 3 or 4
3 Tbs extra virgin olive oil
2 red onions, finely sliced
2 garlic cloves, flattened and finely chopped
2 carrots, peeled and diced
2 celery sticks, finely sliced
700g beef shin, cut into small pieces
100g porcini mushrooms (or portabellini if you prefer)
250ml beef stock
1 glass dry red wine
1 can plum tomatoes, chopped, with the juices
100ml passata or 50g tomato puree with a little water added
2 Tbs chopped fresh oregano leaves
Salt to taste
Parmigiano Reggiano, grated
Pasta shells cooked to the packet instructions
Soften onions and garlic in olive oil and simmer for a few minutes. Add carrots and celery and cook, stirring, for five minutes. Remove, add a little more olive oil, and brown the meat in batches. Add the previously cooked vegetables, the mushrooms (chopped), beef stock, red wine, tin of tomatoes, passata and oregano, bring to a simmer and cook on a very low heat, covered, for two to three hours. Season with salt halfway through. For the last hour, leave it uncovered. The end result should be an intense sauce in which the vegetables and meat virtually combine.
Serve it tossed with pasta, with a grating of Parmesan on top, a sprig of oregano, and a swig of wine (for you). Clutch your rosary and hope there’s not too much garlic. Or too leedle. - Weekend Argus