How Italy’s Pistachios Let Me Indulge in Sweetness!
From cornetti to cannoli — Pistachio is everywhere in Italy!
Buona Domenica! Today I woke up with the biggest craving for something I have tried to find at my local grocery stores, supermarkets, and small mom-and-pop shops in vain: pistachio cream. Pistachio cream, gelato, anything pistachio-related really, is something that I will forever associate with the time I lived in Italy as well as something that I have never been able to find in the US since. At least, not in Miami.
The obsession began with gelato, which was something of a revelation. Before my time in Italy, I would have said I was not a dessert person. You tend to avoid dolci when you have a severe egg allergy and as most desserts are made with eggs, I never had much of a sweet tooth.
This meant that I leaned heavily into spicy foods – anything with chili, paprika, and peppercorn was glorious and a comfort. If I did eat something sweet, it didn’t last long – one or two bites and that was it. But, in the end, Italy tends to change how you eat, and in my experience, it was for the better. I learned to eat with the seasons, buy fresher produce, discover new recipes, and even change my relationship with junk food. Because, in Italy, even the chips are healthy – not a Cheeto in sight. With the absence of familiar favorites, I started branching out and began trying new things. This included trying to give myself a dessert that I could actually eat – any dessert.
One particular gelato shop in Trastevere became my go-to place and the origin of my pistachio craze. My roommate discovered it one day and told me that it was very allergy-friendly because they put all the allergens in front of each container in the form of tiny pictures. A silent way of letting me choose without the awkward interaction or stumbling through the first sentence I memorized in Italian for this situation: mi dispiace, sono alergica all’ouvo, quale mi consigliate? “So sorry, I’m allergic to eggs, which one do you recommend?” Although I still had to say this many, many times. Rome doesn’t let you crawl back into your shell by any means. It’s determined to break it into pieces if you let it.
Gelateria Fatamorgana is a tiny shop along Via Roma Libera across from the church of San Cosimato in Trastevere. This 10th-century church dedicated to the Saints Cosmus and Damian (there actually isn’t a saint Cosimato or Cosimatus) is also a hospital – the Ospidale di Nuovo Regina Margherita. It sits along a low wall covered in murals and graffiti, one of which is two large eyes that seem to stare at me every time I walk by.
And before anything, I would just say that Gelato is not ice cream. I know that this is something we always hear from everyone who has traveled to Italy, and at times, it can feel like an overzealous exaggeration. I’m happy to say that once I got my piccolo cono with a scoop of fresh fragola and nutty pistacchio gelato, I was in complete agreement. Gelato is so much more. It’s not as sickly sweet in flavor as American ice cream, and not as watery or soupy either. It’s got a buttery soft silky consistency that’s satisfying without overwhelming your palette. The pistachio was an especially delicious surprise with its earthy green color and small bits of nuts strewn throughout. It was also something that I could fully enjoy without worrying about my delightful food allergy.
I had no idea something could straddle my pickiness for sweet things, and my allergy, as well as let me indulge in an official dessert. Needless to say, I didn’t mind it when it dribbled down my chin under the hot sticky Roman sun. Unlike the sweeter nocciola (hazelnut), the pistachio is not inherently sweet and lets me gobble it up without feeling forced.
And after 25 years of anxiety towards desserts, I found something that satisfied my sweet tooth. That being said, I am a creature of habit so of course I happily stuck with my new favorite for a while. Even on our day trip to Bologna at Gelateria Gianni Bologna, which sits next to the iconic towers, I indulged, yet again, in creamy pistachio. I’ve often been told to try to change things up a bit and go for other flavors, and I have. But still, it’s pistachio, nothing comes close. If I could, I’d eat all the many different iterations of pistachio in Italy, from cornetti with pistachio filling to cannoli, and pistachio brittle.
One thing that I did get to eat, and did eat, in heaps and bounds, was pistachio cream! This sweet spread is made from the pistachios grown in Bronte in Sicily, a town situated near the slopes of Mount Etna – known affectionately as “Mama Etna” – Sicily’s active volcano and the mythological forge of Vulcan, the blacksmith of the gods. Known as “green gold,” Bronte’s pistachios are celebrated every year during the Fall (September-October) with a festival in their honor. While there are many pistachio creams out there, the Sicilian variety is my favorite.
The consistency of pistachio cream is not unlike regular butter, but much creamier. It was one of my staples every time I had to get groceries. CONAD, our local grocery store has a very linear layout, which means you have to grab things in the order they appear. It’s uncomfortable to backpedal and get something you missed because then you have to deal with the influx of new customers piling in.
Sitting next to the eggs, ironically, was pistachio cream organized neatly on the shelf. I can’t remember how I got around to trying it, all I know is that once I tried it, I was hooked. I decided pistachio cream was a gift from God. I ate it with apple slices, crackers, and toasted bread. At times, I ate it by the spoonful, I could not get enough! When it comes to my fond memories of Italy and all the gifts it gave me, the indulgence of these sweet treats tops the list.