I spent a couple hours yesterday at beautiful Cafe Gilli in Florence writing a piece I was extremely proud of. After a few Negroni cocktails, a couple visits by small finch-like birds, "The Butcher" sadly was lost. A lackluster blogging application deleted the post because of a wonky Internet connection. This post is my second attempt at recounting my experience at Macelleria Belli a few days ago. Of course I had to return to Cafe Gilli, and with the help of my feathered friends and a few more Negroni cocktails, I think the second iteration is even better than the first.
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Before heading to Italy, one of the things at the top of my list was visiting an old school Italian Butcher shop. For years, my grandfather, grandmother and great uncle ran a general store/butcher shop in downtown Lewiston, Maine. I vaguely remember bits and pieces of the place. The huge butcher block with a various array of knives that had seen many a better day. The wooden walk in cooler, in which beef was dry-cured in a way which I'm sure would make today's health inspectors cringe. Old world tried and tested methods which nobody thought twice about back then. Sadly my grandparents closed the store and retired before I was old enough to learn the art, which is all but lost in the U.S. today.
Much to my pleasure, Michael (my boss & exec chef) had done some research during his last trip to Tuscany, and found one such butcher.
Macelleria Belli is a family run business in the small Tuscan town of Torrita di Siena. While providing a general butcher storefront for local clientele, they also prepare various types of salumi for local farmers. And when I say "various", I literally mean tons of varieties. Capicola, Lardo, Prosciutto, Lombo, Tuscan Salami, Fennel Sausage, Blood Sausage...and that's probably just half of it.
Upon walking into the storefront, you are met by the brightly lit display cases, chock full of their numerous meaty wares. The wall on the right side of the room is covered with framed pictures of the founder, Alfieri Belli, his family, staff, and numerous press articles and awards. Huge glowing smiles in every picture display a level of pride and passion in their craft.
Roberta Belli, Alfieri's daughter, greets Michael and I as we are pointing and chuckling like kids in a candy store. She gives us a quick history of the business, then motions for us to follow her through a door which leads to the "back" room. In my head, I envisioned a large room with twenty-some workers cutting, grinding, tying, and filling various meats and nasty parts. Wrong.
Two men were working at a counter in a harmonious tandem. One man was wrapping cured Capicola (spiced & cured pork shoulder) in brown paper and placing each wrapped item on top of a neat large stack. The other man tied each meat parcel like a roast, with such speed that would make Mario Andretti seem slow. I was trying not to stare at the production as Michael said something to the effect of "they've done this a few times before, eh?"
The next thing that hit me was the smell. I've thought long and hard about how to describe the aroma, which is extremely difficult to put into words. Pork funk, the good kind. A salty ocean breeze. Raw garlic. Spicy black pepper. Vinegar. And last but not least, blood...which I'll agree is kind of gross. But combine all these scents and you get something magical. Feel free to call me crazy the next time you see me (I won't disagree). It really is something you have to experience for yourself.
Roberta then led us to the "curing room". Two workers were removing hanging pork shoulder and full pork legs from a wheeled rack, then dunking them in a brine consisting of vinegar, salt, pepper, and garlic. The next step was a hefty dredge in a mixture of salt and pepper. Lastly, each piece was pierced with a metal hook, then placed on another wheeled rack. When a rack became full, it was pushed into one of many hugemungous walk in coolers set to an exact temperature.
Elevator time! Yes, there is a lower level, mainly consisting of large walk in coolers. Each cooler is "tuned" for a specific stage of the curing process, and some for specific meats. One of these coolers is probably the size of a basketball court, with legs of prosciutto as far as you can see. On each "rack" is a piece of paper with the name of the farm or business scrawled in barely legible writing. A few of these racks belonged to Agricola Fontanelle, owned by the Rosatti Brothers, which we had the pleasure of meeting a few days before. Its great to see a thriving business offer a service to local farmers who do not have the capability to do such amazing things with their bounty.
After many pictures and laughs, Roberta led us back up the elevator to the storefront. We ordered some Chianina beef steaks, a local breed of white cow known for the infamous Florentine Steak. Two inch thick "Porterhouse" cut, dry-aged Flinstone caliber steaks. Yes please. I also convince Michael we need to get some sliced Lardo (cured spiced pork fat) for the bruschetta we were preparing that evening.
As we were leaving, Roberta offers us each a piece of paper thin Lardo, which I proceed to rub on my lips like chapstick. Maybe I'm on to something, if they made Lardo flavored chapstick, I would most definitely buy it.
I want to thank Alfieri Belli, Roberta, and the entire staff at Macelleria Belli for sharing their passion with us. Michael is hoping to set up future Tuscany trips for our guests, and a visit to Macelleria Belli would definitely be a great "foodie" experience. I know my Grandfather (Pépère) would definitely approve.
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