Pane fatto in casa: storia, tradizione e gusto

Chi di voi ricorda ancora ” il rito del pane fatto in casa” praticato dalle vostre nonne o zie? Qual’era la forma di pane che più vi piaceva addentàre?

Per quanto mi riguarda, ricordo che mia nonna Anna, faceva del pane, un rito, con cadenza settimanale. Avendo una famiglia numerosa, impastava chili e chili di farina di grano duro. La vedevi indossare la sua cuffia cucita a mano, il grembiule (anche con qualche buchetto dovuto all’usura), e vai con la magia… semplici gli ingredienti: acqua, farina, criscenti (lievito naturale), sale e olio di oliva.

Dove si impastava? Su una base di legno particolare chiamata scanatùri, dove con energia “a’ zia Nni” (così la chiamavano mia nonna), caddriàva u pani(sbatteva quella massa enorme di pasta per favorirne la lievitazione);

…poi, con arte, creava diverse pezzature: u chichirèddru, a mbroglia etc etc.. e metteva a dormire il pane facendo il segno della croce per benedire il pane, (ringraziamento a Dio per il pane quotidiano) e recitando cosi:

“Gisuzzu e Maria, comu ji aiutu a Vù, Vù aiutàti a mmia”.

A lievitazione ultimata,, incideva dei piccoli segni sulle varie forme realizzate, (sgrignàva u pani),  “sbatteva delle uova”, ci aggiungeva a ngingiullèna (semi di sesamo) o la “paparìna” (semi di papavero, poi diventati illegali) e li spalmava sul pane.

Il forno a legna, ormai pronto ad accogliere il pane….

Dopo circa 20 minuti, la fragranza di quella bontà, nata da pochi e semplici ingredienti, rendeva tutto magico.

Noi nipotini, aspettavamo con ansia la “sfornàta”, pronti con olio, sale e pepe, per “cunzarini u pani cu ll’ogliu” (condire il pane con olio). Non avevamo nemmeno la pazienza di aspettare che quel pezzo di pane, diventasse “caldo al punto giusto”.

Quanti ricordi, quanta magia.

Annalisa Pompeo

English version

Homemade bread has always represented the history of a people. And often it can be noted that a mere few kilometers, the distance from one village to another, can make all the difference in the taste, aroma, texture, and shapes of these breads – making each one characteristic to the particular town in which it is made.

As such, the concept of bread itself has left an indelible mark in history over the centuries, remaining the center of life and interest through the ages. Who among you still remembers the smell of homemade bread baking in your grandmother’s house?

As for me, I sure do. I remember my grandmother Anna making bread every week, a process almost ritual in nature. Having a large family, she would use pounds and pounds of wheat flour to have enough dough to make bread to feed all of us.

You would see her put on her hand-sewn cap and her apron (with a little hole here and there from its frequent use), and then the magic would begin… simple ingredients: water, flour, “criscenti” (yeast), salt and extra virgin olive oil from the olive trees cultivated by my grandfather. Where would all of this take place? On a wooden board called a “scanatùri”, where with much energy “a’ zia Nni” (as they called my grandmother), “caddriàva u pani” (kneaded and slammed the huge mass of dough against the board, kneading it well to facilitate optimal rising).

Then, she artfully created different shapes and sizes: “u chichirèddru” and “a mbroglia “ to name a few. At the same time, she would carve into the raw dough tiny signs (sgrignàva u pani); often making the sign of the cross to bless it, as a thanksgiving to God for our daily bread. She would then put it aside to let it rise. After the rising of the dough was completed, she would “sbatteva delle ova” – beat a few eggs and spread the mixture over the bread shapes making for a surface on which “ngingiullèna” (sesame seeds) or “paparina” (poppy seeds, that is, before they became illegal!) could stick.

…After a few minutes, the fragrance of that goodness, born of just a few simple ingredients, made everything magical.

We grandchildren couldn’t wait for the bread to come out of the oven, standing there anxiously with oil, salt and pepper at the ready – to “cunzarini u pani cu ll’ogliu” (season the bread with oil).

As soon as it came out of the oven, we didn’t even have the patience to wait for it to cool down before diving right into it.

So many memories, so much magic…so many scalded fingers!

Annalisa Pompeo

Thanks to Niki Masino for translation.