Don’t marinate it, said Ilena Donati, firmly, referring to the common practice that everyone’s nonna advocates of marinating game in wine for 24 hours before cooking it. It disguises the true flavour of the meat. Besides, the wild boars today aren’t like the ones they once were.
And especially not in Capalbio, where there is plenty of farmed boar, more ‘polite’, tender and delicate, as gastronome Aldo Santini says.
Lots of bay leaf. Lots of rosemary. Whole. A pinch of chilli. Not everyone likes it, but it’s good. She said it in a way that means the chilli really belongs there.
And brown the meat. Brown it really well. Add a splash of vinegar. When that evaporates, add vino nero – she means red wine, but calling it ‘black wine’ is an old-fashioned expression that makes me smile.
And then tomatoes, broken down with your hands – she gestures with her hands as if holding them above the pan and I’m imagining the feel of peeled tomatoes being squashed between my fingers – and cook it, slowly, slowly. This last treasured piece of advice for cooking like a Maremman, piano, piano, is the key to this very special stew.