Author: Clive Drew

About Clive Drew

Words and music. Home is Brixton, South London. Communications consultant specialising in music and culture. Currently living and working in Bari, Puglia.

My Life in Food and The Taming of the Nolche Olives

I’ve had a somewhat love / hate relationship with food and cookery over the years.  As a kid, I was blessed with having a mother who enjoyed cooking and baking (we rarely had fast food) and a half-Khasi, half-Irish grandmother (raised in Shillong, Meghalaya, Northeastern India) who was a dab hand in the kitchen and made all manner of delicious curries and fragrant dhals.  My dad was also a barbecue enthusiast during the warmer months and we’d spend hours concocting new marinades, at times using ingredients that would usually be considered unconventional in the preparation of a savoury meal.   

My secondary school made it compulsory to study a technology for GCSE-level and I opted for Food Technology (eating your creations was a benefit that WoodworkElectronics and Textiles couldn’t offer).  I did pretty well across the board in the exams we had to take aged 16 but bizarrely, my highest mark came in Food, with an A*.  Fortuitously I did my coursework all about Italian cuisine and even made my own ravioli and tagliatelle using a neighbour’s pasta machine. 

It takes three of us to open a can of spaghetti at Reading Festival. August 2005.

At university cooking fell way down the priority list in favour of nights out, socialising and my band.  During this period, my specialities included beef goulash out of a can, served with McCain microwave chips, noodles coated with pesto from a jar (to this day I can no longer enjoy the flavour of pesto) and an array of supermarket microwave ready-meals.  If I had £20 left in my pocket, a night out would always win over going to a restaurant for a meal.  I was also rather partial to cheesy chips with garlic sauce and even had a preferred supplier of choice; It’s Pizza Time on Crwys Road, Cardiff, run by a Greek man called Attis.  In hindsight, the runny garlicky sauce was actually something special – as was the aromatic stench coming from the bin in our shared student flat the following morning. 

Attempting to make pancakes whilst wearing a blazer. Cardiff, February 2006.

Things came back round full circle though and I re-discovered the joys of cooking in my mid-20s.  Culinary figures such as Anthony Bourdain, Marco Pierre White and Graham Garrett shared the non-conformist spirit of many of the musicians I admired and even their predecessors, the likes of Elizabeth David and Patience Gray were the rebels of their day.  Food became a way of understanding more about other cultures – much in the same way as music.

During the first coronavirus lockdown in Italy (one of the most strictly-enforced in Europe), I found myself effectively stranded and isolated in a foreign country; living, working and exercising from the same small flat, only allowed outside for necessities.  Cooking and coming up with new recipes in the evening became a form of salvation and a creative outlet to look forward to.

That brings us to November 2020 and browsing my local branch of the Dok supermarket in Bari, I picked up what I thought was a box of black grapes.  It was only when I got home I realised I had picked up a box of ‘Olive dolce da tavola nolche’ instead of the grapes.  I’m usually a great lover of olives but these were like no other olive I had ever tasted.  They were extraordinarily bitter (I have no problem with the most pungent blue cheeses or 95 percent cocoa dark chocolate), they made the skin on the inside of my mouth go on edge and turned my fingertips purple.  I taught a lesson an hour later and actually struggled to properly annunciate my words initially, thanks to the after-effects of this strange variety of olives.

After some research, it transpires that these kinds of nolche olives are a speciality of Puglia and in particular the region around Bari, Bisceglie and Molfetta.  They are only in season from September until November and their distinctive ultra-bitter flavour comes from the presence of polyphenols and in particular the compound oleuropein.  They are high in anti-oxidants and thought to reduce cholesterol and protect against cardiovascular disease.  I was beginning to feel quite fortunate that I had picked these up instead of the grapes after all.   

I also found out that heating the olives made them less bitter and caused them to break down in the pan.  Below is a recipe I came up with for the remaining Olive dolce da tavola nolche, using what I could find in my fridge and kitchen cupboard.

Nolche olives with Datterino tomatoes, chickpeas, chilli and casarecce

2-3 servings 

What you need

  • 400g olive dolce da tavola nolche (only available between September and November – normal black olives will do)
  • 400g canned chickpeas, drained
  • 3 x cloves of garlic, crushed
  • 2 x Peperone crusco (dried crusco pepper from Basilicata), deseeded and sliced horizontally 
  • 3-4 dried red chillies, sliced (no need to discard the seeds)
  • Half a small salumi, cut into 5 or 6 slices and then chopped into 5mm-sized small chunks.
  • 12 x Datterino or cherry tomatoes, halved 
  • 2 teaspoons of dried Sicilian oregano 
  • 250g of dried pasta (in this instance I used casarecce, short twists, originating in Sicily)
  • Grated Parmesan or Pecorino to serve

Steps 

1.)  Heat a tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil in a saucepan over a medium heat.

2.)  Add all of the olives and season with sea salt and black pepper.  Cook for 10-15 minutes, stirring frequently.  The olives will begin to break down and disintegrate and the pan should develop a deep purple coating.

3.) Whilst the olives are cooking, bring a large pan of water to the boil and then season with sea salt.

4.)  Add the crushed garlic to the pan of olives and cook for 1-2 minutes, until soft.

5.)  Add the sliced peperone crusco, red chillies and salumi to the olive pan.  Heat for 4-5 minutes until the salumi starts to crisp up and the peppers begin to soften.  Stir frequently and add a drop of water or white wine if the salumi starts sticking to the bottom of the pan.

6.)  Add the chickpeas, sliced tomatoes and oregano and continue cooking for a further 10 minutes, stir occasionally. Meanwhile, cook the pasta according to its instructions (10-12 minutes is recommended for casarecce).

7.)  Once the pasta is cooked al dente, drain well in a colander but reserve approximately two tablespoons of the starchy pasta water in the pan.

8.)  Combine the nolche olive mixture with the casarecce in the pan the pasta was cooked in.  Mix well so that all of the ingredients are coated and incorporated.

9.) Serve in bowls, topped with grated Parmesan or Pecorino cheese, to taste.  

Serving suggestion 

As a side dish, I roasted some fine green beans and cicoria (a bitter green leaf that grows in abundance in southern Italy) with olive oil, sea salt and rosemary for 15 minutes in the oven.  A simple green salad would also work well. 

Off-the-beaten track in Bari

It was the day of my 32nd birthday and a warm Saturday in June.  However, rather than celebrating with friends in a Brixton beer garden, I was in the press room at Wembley Stadium, North London.  I had spent the day in my then-role as PR Director, looking after music and entertainment journalists at a huge pop concert hosted by one of the UK’s biggest commercial radio station groups. We were now having to contend with members of a well-known MOR American pop-rock group throwing a tantrum because, a) they had decided they didn’t want to speak to the assembled throng of media who had been waiting patiently for them after all, and b) the elevator that had been called to take them back down to their dressing room on the ground floor wasn’t arriving “fast enough” for their liking.  I decided it was time for a change in scenery.

Behind-the-scenes at Wembley that day

In January, after living and working in London for 11 years, I moved to Bari and began a new life as an English Teacher at the second largest language school in Italy.   The school in question has 2,000 students and 50 teachers. To say it’s been a step out of my comfort zone would be an understatement but so far, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the experience and have found the work very rewarding.

Prior to applying for the role, my main previous knowledge of Bari was through the legendary 1990s Channel 4 show Gazzetta Football Italia. Also, the fact that the city’s football team was famous for being the first club that English midfielder David Platt signed for during his spell in Italy – indeed the £5.5 million fee S.S.C. Bari paid for him was a British transfer record at the time.  Platt would leave Bari one season later to join Juventus and later Sampdoria in Genoa.

Bari has lived up to its reputation as the “Paris of the Mediterranean” though and is a very liveable city and a great place to immerse yourself in Southern Italian culture.  Before the COVID-19 lockdown and in the brief return to normality during the summer, I have been able to do a fair amount of exploring.  Whilst Bari Vecchia (Bari’s old town) is very quaint and a great place to lose yourself, it is also somewhat now oriented at tourists with its many restaurants, bars and novelty shops.  Below are some of my favourite, more off-the-beaten track places in the city.  Let’s hope they are all able to resume normal service in the not-too-distant future.

Stadio San NicolaStrada Torrebella

Situated 5 km from the centre of Bari, Stadio San Nicola is the home of S.S.C. Bari.  Built for the 1990 FIFA World Cup and designed by the esteemed architect Renzo Piano, whose other creations include The Centre Pompidou in Paris and London’s The Shard, the stadium is a stunning feat of engineering.  Designed to resemble a flower, its 58,270 seats are arranged into 26 concrete ‘petals’ which gives the illusion that the stands are floating.  The changing rooms are under the pitch and accessed via a door hidden in the turf and the stadium is known locally as ‘The Spaceship’.  It’s quite the sight from the ring road around Bari – particularly in the ‘golden’ hour just before sunset. 

The ultras in Curva Nord during S.S.C. Bari vs F.C. Rieti. January 2020.

With S.S.C. Bari now playing in Serie C, the third tier of Italian football, Stadio San Nicola is sadly rarely full these days.  However, watching a game here is still an experience, particularly in the lively Curva Nord where the club’s passionate ‘ultras’ stand, thump drums and sing throughout the match.  Bari’s veteran star striker Mirco Antenucci also spent two years played for Leeds United in the UK, as well as for various Serie A teams.  Antonio Conte also cut his management teeth here in 2007-2009. Tickets cost as little as €10 and buses go direct from outside Bari Centrale station.

Ex Caserma LiberataVia Giulio Petroni, 8

Located in the former Rossani Barracks on Via Giulio Petroni, Ex Caserma Liberata is one of a kind.  Home since 2014 to a community of artists, environmentalists and free thinkers, this sprawling space has been lovingly decorated with some fantastic street art and boasts an urban garden, a music and theatre venue and even an indoor skateboard ramp.  Check the Facebook page for the latest live events that range from poetry readings, punk festivals and dub and reggae parties.

Officina degli Esordi, Via Francesco Crispi, 5

Part-arts centre, part-café, part-workshop, part-studio, Officina degli Esordi is situated between the Murat and Libertà neighbourhoods and is one of Bari’s creative hubs.  An impressive futuristic-looking space with lots of glass, steel and floor-to-ceiling windows, the venue hosts music, theatre, cinema and visual art events, as well as workshops during the day.  There’s also a sizeable, green roof terrace and bar.  I checked out the Italian musician Edda here in February – formerly the frontman of cult Milan group Ritmo Tribale.

Prinz ZaumVia Cardassi, 93

Prinz Zaum is one of my favourite finds in the Madonnella neighbourhood.  It is a café, bookstore and performance space – often hosting acoustic musical performance and book readings.  They also have a photo wall dedicated to David Bowie (it feels very familiar as Brixton, my home in London is famous for being his birthplace and has a large mural of him on the high street), board games and funnily enough, some English ales, such as the Wytchwood Brewery’s Hobgoblin on draught.  A great place to hang out with like-minded souls or to get your head down and do some work during the day.

Prinz Zaum; Madonnella’s bookstore / cafe / bar.
Prinz Zaum’s Bowie wall.

Kursaal Santa LuciaLargo Adua, 5

“Kursaal” is a word deriving from German meaning “a public building in which entertainment is provided”. Kursaal Santa Lucia was built in Bari in 1925 overlooking Largo Adua and the Adriatic Sea. It served for many decades as a much-loved theatre and cinema before becoming derelict. For a period in the last century, Bari was known as “the city with too many theatres” with Teatro Petruzzelli, Teatro Piccinni, Teatro Margherita and Kursaal Santa Lucia all competing for business.

A fine example of late-Liberty style architecture, the building is currently being faithfully restored with the help of Fondo Ambiente Italiano (FAI – the Italian equivalent of English Heritage) and both its main theatre and upstairs function room are set to reopen to the public in 2021. It’ll be exciting to see Bari re-gaining a 1,000-capacity arts venue in the new year!

Pizzeria Il DesiderioVia Dalmazia, 54

My go-to pizzeria in Bari, Il Desiderio is a traditional neighbourhood restaurant on Via Dalmazia in the heart of Madonnella.  The menu has over 50 different kinds of pizzas to choose from, all made with fresh ingredients.  Many of them will set you back just €4 or €5.  The owners are very friendly and bruschetta will often be served ‘on the house’ as a starter.  There’s a takeaway option too (doing a roaring trade during the current situation) and many customers choose to enjoy a €1 ice cold Peroni whilst they wait for their pizza to be cooked to order.

Let’s hope that Bari and its independent businesses are able to get back on their feet soon! 

From Brixton to Bari

12th November 2020

A year ago to the day, I said goodbye to London and life as I had known it. 

For better or for worse, I left behind friends, relationships, a comfortable lifestyle, my beloved record collection and a steady career.

First, I spent a captivating six weeks in India; travelling from Mumbai in the West, to Kerala in the south, Chennai in the East and finally Meghalaya and Kolkata in the North.  

Then on January 3rd 2020, I moved indefinitely to Bari in Southern Italy with only two suitcases and my trusty 1962 Harmony H1260 guitar in tow (the same model that Jimmy Page used on ‘Stairway to Heaven’, if you’re interested).  

El Chiringuito, Bari.

One year on, I am writing this from a spartan one-bedroom flat in the Madonnella district, with the Adriatic Sea and ‘Lungomare’ (‘sea front’) a two-minute walk away.  The flat has a mould problem, a leaking bathroom tap and basin (my landlord, a retired football scout, has asked me to ‘manage’ the problem with a plastic container for the time being), questionable kitchen plumbing (l’idraulico has only been called out to unblock the sink a mere four times this year) and a burgeoning mosquito population who enjoy an active nightlife that seems to peak around 5am in my bedroom.  For reasons that don’t need elaborating on, I have spent more time inside this flat during 2020 than I ever thought imaginable.  

However, this well-worn old building in deepest Madonnella is full of character and my neighbours include numerous inquisitive, yet friendly older Italian ‘nonnas’ whose homes overlook mine.  I am sure they know where I am from (“L’Inglese!”), what I do for a living (“Lui è un insegnante!), as well as what music I listen to (“Le Smeeeths!”).  There is a secretive speakeasy bar diagonally opposite (“We only sell Peroni and Fanta” was the curt response when I enquired about buying a bottle of water one evening when my flat’s water supply had been cut off) and the street is surprisingly multicultural; I live a few doors down from a Chinese gentleman who dries his clothes on an airer he places on the pavement, a large family from Mauritius and several Indians.

It’s 5.30pm, my neighbours have started to stir from their daily siestas and chatter loudly from their balconies and The Ecstatic Music of Alice Coltrane Turiyasangitananda is on my stereo.  Despite the ongoing uneasiness caused by the Covid pandemic, with news of an approved vaccine on the way and Joe Biden’s impending inauguration as POTUS, there is plenty to feel optimistic about. 

Just another day in Madonnella.

But, why Bari? 

I was familiar with Bari being one of the largest cities in Southern Italy and the capital of the Puglia region but I must admit that a lot of my knowledge was down to S.S.C. Bari being the first Italian club of choice for former England midfielder David Platt when he made the switch to Serie A in 1991 (for then a British transfer record fee).  I got good vibes from my new school during my interview though and it sounded like a liveable city – “The Paris of the South” according to locals – and with a population of just over 300,000, a little less hectic than London.  Puglia is also a region famous for its no-fuss, predominantly vegetarian cuisine (‘cucina povera’) and this was certainly another major draw for me.

I had spent over ten years in London – at times working very hard, at other times having a lot of fun – and in general, living life at 100 miles per hour.  I’d had a lot of highs but also some fairly crushing lows (being told in an appraisal by a boss early in my career that he’d “be embarrassed to be me” and that I should be “ashamed of myself”, ranks pretty highly.  Said boss also had a penchant for making girls cry during interviews but that’s another story). 

The typical working week for me in London would often consist of 45-50 hours in the office, going to three evening gigs after work, a big night out or two at the weekend, four or five gym or swimming pool sessions and on average, five or six nightly hours of sleep.  Cramming as much into my days as possible and then feeling suitably knackered by the time Friday evening came around.

My home in Brixton, South London.

I had done reasonably in my career and worked myself up to a position that had a degree of responsibility but I couldn’t help but feel an unscratched itch that there had to be more to life than this and that time in the city was starting to pass by increasingly quickly.  

I began to look into teaching English overseas.  

It felt like an ideal way to experience living and working in a different country whilst doing something meaningful and dealing with lots of different people every day.  Being able to ‘teach’ also felt like a good life skill to have too, no matter what the future years would have in store. 

I studied for one of the necessary teaching qualifications and was soon able to start applying for roles. 

There were several options on the table; I was offered positions in Hanoi in Vietnam, Bangkok in Thailand, Morelia in Mexico, Madrid in Spain and Catania in Sicily.  However, I chose Bari.  

Bari Lungomare.