Professor Butter Beard and the “Tomba delle Leonesse”
“Probably one of the most private things in world is an egg before it is broken.” – MFK Fisher
Nellie and I love eggs for breakfast. It is our private time, just before sunrise, listening to NPR, and taking a break to relax as the morning bake rises in the oven. The eggs arrive in the guise of warm scrambled curds with bacon, or baked into muffins or scones, whisked into pancake or waffle batters, or my favorite, poached and served over toasted homemade biscuits and leftover ham. If I am in a dreadful hurry, Buddha forbid, I microwave the leftover baker’s egg wash and serve it to Nellie as a gift, acknowledging her patience and cuteness.
I’m already mentally preparing to teach ancient art his coming fall semester and my precious breakfasts are usually eaten while perusing art from one century or another. This morning, it was a late brunch with the Etruscans who lived in Tarquinia, a medieval town famous for its archeological remains.
The Etruscan tribes inhabited central-western Italy, between Tuscany and Lazio, from the 9th century BCE, and experienced a cultural climax around the 6th century BCE before completely disappearing - a result of the impact of Roman civilization, with which it merged in part. No definite answer exists as to these people’s origins, and neither does any trace of a similar community – in regard to its ethnic and social characteristics – between Europe and Asia. They remain a tantalizing mystery.
The Etruscan necropolises (“cities of the dead”) of Cerveteri and Tarquinia constitute a unique and exceptional testimony of the ancient Etruscan Civilization, the only Italian urban civilization of the pre-Roman Age. The best preserved Etruscan paintings that have survived to modern times are mostly wall frescoes within graves dug into the earth and accessible by means of inclined corridors or stairways. Sometimes scenes of everyday life are portrayed, but more often traditional mythological scenes. Historians now believe them to be the most important examples of pre-Roman figurative art in Italy.
The medium of “buon (true) fresco” made great demands on a painter’s technical skill since he must work fast (while the plaster is wet) but cannot correct mistakes by overpainting. The frescoes were created by applying paint on top of wet plaster, so that when the plaster dried the painting became part of the plaster, and consequently an integral part of the wall. An impressive varied palette was obtained by grinding stones and minerals of different colors and then mixing them with pure water. Fine brushes were used made of animal hair (even the best brushes can be produced with ox hair). The resulting deeply saturated paintings must have looked spectacular, and almost three-dimensional, when viewed with only the shimmering light of ancient Etruscan oil lamps.
During the 1920s, the English writer D.H. Lawrence described his visits to various Etruscan sites, including the painted tombs of Tarquinia:
“Lovely again is the Tomba delle Leonesse, the Tomb of the Lionesses. On the right wall reclines a very impressive dark red man wearing a curious cap, or head-dress, that has long tails like long plaits. In his right hand he holds up an egg, and in his left is the shallow wine-bowl of the feast. The scarf or stole of his human office hangs from a tree before him, and the garland of his human delight hangs at his side. He holds up the egg of resurrection, within which the germ sleeps as the soul sleeps in the tomb before it breaks the shell and emerges again.”
Ah, and there it is! The egg – the eternal symbol of fertility and rebirth (and breakfast). This week I honor both the beauty of the Etruscan fresco and the versatility of the egg. I returned home from the farmer’s market this morning laden with asparagus, red peppers, ricotta salata, “candy” onions, and freshly laid eggs. Instead of a standard pastry quiche crust, I chose frozen sheets of phyllo dough, which when layered, create a flaky crisp exterior – almost like the flaking surface of an ancient fresco. I added Siracha to the custard for a deep warmth and fresh ricotta salata and lemon zest for a surprising tang. Nellie gobbled up the fly-away whisps of baked phyllo but did audibly complain about the lack of any bacon. There is always tomorrow, dearest Nels. Meet me in the kitchen before sunrise.
Phyllo Vegetable Quiche
One deep-dish quiche
10-12 sheets of phyllo – thawed in the refrigerator overnight
5-6 cups of the freshest vegetables available, chopped into bite-size pieces
(For this quiche, I used fresh asparagus, a “candy onion” from the farmers market, sweet peas, sun-dried tomatoes, roasted red peppers and fresh basil from my kitchen garden)
6 large eggs
1 cup sour cream
1 Tbsp Siracha (or dashes of your favorite hot sauce)
Zest of one lemon
8 ounces ricotta salata, broken into large crumbles
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
Pam cooking spray
1) The night before, thaw one roll of frozen phyllo sheets in your refrigerator.
2) The next morning, visit your famer’s market and treat yourself to whatever vegetables speak to you.
3) Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
4) Chop your vegetable into bite-size pieces and toss together with salt and pepper to taste. Since the quiche will bake for one hour, there is no need to pre-cook your vegetables.
5) In a medium-size bowl, whisk together the eggs and sour cream. Whisk in the Siracha, lemon zest, and salt and pepper to taste.
6) Lightly spray your pie plate with cooking spray. Lay a sheet of phyllo into the pie plate – half in the plate and half as overhang. Lightly spray the sheet with cooking spray. Continue laying in the sheets, overlapping and spraying, working your way around the pie dish. Lay the last sheet in the middle of the plate to make sure the bottom is completely covered and sealed.
7) Toss half of the crumbled ricotta salata with the vegetable and then fill your prepared pie plate with the mixed vegetables. Pour the custard over the vegetables and then sprinkle the remaining ricotta salata over the mix.
8) Fold, or roll, the overhanging phyllo onto the top of the filling. It will crumble – don’t worry! It will be beautiful no matter what!
9) Bake for roughly one hour until the custard is set, and the phyllo is toasty brown.
10) Cool on a wire rack for at least one hour before slicing.
