CALAMARI NERI: SQUID IN ITS INK
(Serves Four)

Some years ago, more than a decade, I was visiting my uncle John Carabella in Manhattan. Uncle John was then and is now a member of the New York Philharmonic's celebrated horn section. On this occasion I met John's colleague Mr. Carlos
Piantini who was at that time a violinist with the Philharmonic and is now a conductor of symphony orchestras. 

Maestro Piantini is a member of a great family from the Dominican Republic. When I expressed interest in a fellowship opportunity in Santo Domingo, which I was considering at the time, Mr. Piantini told me he could be of valuable assistance
because, as he said "I am like Caesar in my country." I never accepted the fellowship, but I owe maestro Piantini an enormous debt of gratitude for introducing me to a certain preparation which was to become Cafe Capriccio's most unusual pasta dish and one of its most popular. 

On the fateful night of my visit, Mr. Piantini escorted my uncle and me to his favorite restaurant, Victor's Cafe, a Cuban bistro on Columbus Avenue, around the corner from Lincoln Center. He was also like Caesar in this restaurant, and insisted upon
ordering for me. The appetizer ordered was named calamares in su tinto. Squid with ink sauce served over white rice. I thought it was the best dish I had ever had and immediately set about to determine its contents. I also imagined it with pasta
instead of rice. 

Although I love rice, I love pasta more than I love rice, if you know what I mean.

The first problem encountered in the recipe decoding exercise occurred when I learned that commonly available squid does not possess the required ink found in a related species called cuttle fish or seppia. Later I learned that the plump flesh of the
seppia is also important for this recipe, being more desirable than the relatively thin skin of the squid found in most markets.

With great effort, I was able to locate seppia through a wholesale fish distributor. Frankly, I do not know much about its origins except that the seppia I receive originates from the Mediterranean and is delivered to me frozen. These fish vary in
size from about one pound to as much as ten pounds. They are apparently frozen immediately after the nets deliver them to the fishing boats. When cleaning them, I have seen countless small fish in their bellies, always in perfect condition. 

Only on one occasion have I observed cuttle fish in a local market. This was at Christmas and the fish were very small and very delicious but they were cleaned and had no ink sacs. 


All of this intelligence about seppia leads me to say, with some distress, that while you may enjoy calamari neri at Cafe Capriccio, and while it may even become your most favored pasta dish, you many never be able to prepare it yourself because finding the seppia is a challenge of exceeding proportions.

Nevertheless, an encyclopedia of Cafe Capriccio's best recipes would not be complete without calamari neri, and besides, you may get lucky and find some seppia. 

When I introduced calamari neri at Cafe Capriccio it was entirely unheard of, as far as I could determine, in this area. Yet, while I have never seen it served anywhere with pasta, the Venetians and the Sicilians (and probably other Italians as well) prepare
squid with ink. Venice, for example, is famous for its risotto nero, which is a variation on the dish I enjoyed at Victor's Cafe. The Sicilians prepare it similarly.

And if you follow the fad-food scene, you will know that black pasta, ostensibly made with squid ink, is currently in vogue. All of the evidence therefore suggests an abundance of seppia and seppia ink in the world, along with significant numbers of
people who admire it. I would be very surprised if variations of this delicacy were not popular with oriental cultures, as well. 

Calamari neri doesn't taste like anything else I know about -- and it has the addicting effect of a siren's song. My sage and sapient journalist friend Mr. Fred Le Brun described this dish in one of his penetrating restaurant reviews almost ten years ago
as "decidedly a sea-lovers pasta dish, black and strong with the ink of the squid. It smells of the ocean." Proceed carefully, sea lovers, and you shall be rewarded.

Ingredients:

o One seppia, or cuttle fish, frozen and uncleaned. If the sepia is not frozen and has not been cleaned, don't buy it. Keep in mind that seppia comes in many sizes. For this recipe I assume the fish weighs about two and one half pounds and will provide enough "meat" to feed four people. If the fish is bigger, consider yourself lucky; if you need more than one, that's ok too 

o One onion -- medium to large -- chopped

o One half red pepper (sweet) and one half green pepper -- chopped 

o Bacon fat -- three tablespoons; you may also use three slices of lean bacon -- chopped before frying

o Olive oil -- four tablespoons

o Tomato paste -- one small can

o Chicken broth -- twenty ounces; fish broth is also good, but I use chicken broth in this recipe

o Garlic -- five cloves -- minced

o Two bay leaves

o One half teaspoon coriander seeds -- crushed -- if you cannot find seeds you may use ground coriander

o Pasta -- one pound

Cooking Procedure:

Cleaning the Seppia:

o Make two lateral incisions along the backbone and remove it. More commonly available calamari have a translucent, plastic-like, strip down the back which must also
be removed. Seppia, has a solid backbone which, according to bird lore, is favored by pet birds as a pecking object. If you have a pet bird, you may want to put the backbone in its cage

o Carefully remove the ink sac which is located inside the seppia on the side opposite the backbone. Do not puncture the ink sac if you can avoid it. The ink has a texture of paste and will not leak away if you puncture the sac. However, the
pigment is so potent it will stain any porous surface for several centuries. Did you know that many existing drawings from the great Renaissance masters like Michelangelo and Leonardo were executed with pigment called sepia from this source? Imagine what it will do to your best chef's apron

o Remove all material from the body cavity of the seppia

o Separate the tentacles by cutting them in front of the eyes 

o Remove the hard, dark, beak at the back of the tentacles by pinching it out from its position with your thumb and forefinger -- discard the entrails

o Wash the seppia thoroughly and pull off the skin from the body 

o At this stage you should have before you a relatively flat slab of plump, white, meat along with an impressive array of tentacles

Tenderizing the Seppia:

o Place the squid in a sauce pan, cover with water, add one half lemon and a couple of bay leaves

o Simmer for about thirty minutes, or until the flesh can be easily pierced with a fork

o When the seppia is tender, plunge it into cold water and allow it to cool, then

o Cut the body into one inch strips and separate segments of the tentacles. Set aside

Preparing the Sauce:

o Saute onions and peppers with bacon, or bacon fat if you choose, and olive oil If you use bacon, begin with bacon and
olive oil so that bacon may be rendered to a crisp finish. Onions and peppers should then be added three or four minutes into the process

o When onions begin to color, add seppia and garlic; stir for about two minutes

o Add the tomato paste (one half of the can) and chicken broth. Stir until all ingredients are integrated and the broth is smooth

o Add the contents of the ink sac. Stir the ingredients so that everything is coated with ink

o Add the remaining ingredients and simmer slowly, uncovered, for about ten minutes, until the sauce is rich and black. If after ten minutes the sauce remains thin, reduce it further; if the sauce is too thick, add broth.

o When the sauce is ready, you may hold it covered for a few minutes while you prepare your favorite pasta, toss the pasta in the sauce and serve it in bowls with a generous portion of seppia and sauce on top.


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