The ANNOTICO Report
Chef Biagio Longo's "Mami Camilla" near Sorrento, in the
quaint town of
Sant'Agnello, is only one of many Cooking schools in
Italy. A beautiful
vacation idea.
The flavors of Southern Italy are the subject at a relaxed
hotel and
cooking school near Sorrento
Detroit Free Press
By Elio Leturia
Staff Writer
June 14, 2005
1965. A little boy sneaks into the kitchen to see how
the dessert he had
invented is doing in the oven. Someone had turned the
oven off. Quietly,
checking to make sure nobody is around, he stands on
a stool and turns the
oven back on.
Students Brian Merel, 24, of Chicago (on an internship
for his Cooking and
Hospitality Institute of Chicago degree) and Betsy Laskowski,
33, of
Philadelphia (a teacher in Budapest) watch as chef Biagio
Longo makes pasta.
The red "on" light makes him smile. He sneaks out of the
room; when he
returns a few minutes later, the light is off again.
He turns it back on,
hoping no one else would interrupt his baking.
In his mind he can hear his father's voice: "Boys don't
enter the kitchen.
.... Cooking is for women!"
When the little boy returns to the kitchen, he takes the
hot dish out of
the oven. He rushes off to his bedroom and closes the
door. He eats the
cinnamony treat.
Not bad for a 5-year-old.
Four decades later, the little boy is an adult who loves
to cook. He
decides to take a cooking class in Italy. It sounds exciting:
three days at
Mami Camilla, a hotel and cooking school in romantic
Sorrento, between
Naples and the Amalfi Coast. Authentic Southern Italian
cuisine. Hedonistic
thoughts invade his mind -- hearty sauces, pastas al
dente, creamy desserts.
Chef Biagio Longo, 52, a tall and sturdy man with hands
big enough to
easily knead 4 pounds of fresh pasta, welcomes the four
students he has
this week.
One is from Denver, another from Chicago, another a Philadelphian
who lives
in Budapest, and me, a Detroiter from Peru who secretly
baked sweet treats
as a kid. Wearing white aprons we gather around the big
marble island in
the center of a no-frills kitchen.
"We are going to make a whole menu each class, all from
scratch," he
explains in his accented English.
That day, the menu is Neapolitan pizza, Braciola al sugo,
lasagna and, for
dessert, brisedo, a lemon custardy pie.
"What about tiramis™?" a student asks with anticipation.
"That would be tomorrow," the chef responds, smiling.
"Pizza Napoletana is light," Biagio explains while making
a hole in the
flour. "We do not use yeast usually. We leave the flour
out for 5 days and
then 24 hours in the fridge. That's the secret."
This is homey, real, down-to earth food -- a hands-on cooking experience.
The four students are given different tasks while Biagio
explains each dish
and its preparation. There is time for questions, jokes
and making mistakes.
Time is not an issue with Biagio. "Italian cuisine is
simple, earthy and
tasty," he adds. "I have worked all over the world but,
still, my favorite
dish is spaghetti with garlic and olive oil."
Biagio knew he would be a chef at an early age. He grew
up surrounded by
the fresh and hearty flavors of his mother's cooking.
Right after high
school, at age 17, he moved from his native Lecce, in
Italy's southern
province of Puglia, to Sorrento, where he enrolled in
the Sorrento Culinary
Cooking School.
>From local restaurants and hotel kitchens, Biagio crossed
the Alps and
offered a passion for cooking in renowned hotels in cities
like Brussels,
Dusseldorf, and London. "That's how I learned English:
working in London. I
learned English in the streets," he says. He also worked
on elegant cruise
ships, had his own restaurants and traveled around the
world.
Thirty-four years ago, he married Camilla, a vivacious
and beautiful young
lady. "We went to school together," he proudly says.
For many years, Biagio
would travel, work abroad, then come back home for a
while.
But it wasn't easy to be away from the family.
Camilla had been hosting foreign students at their house,
then two years
ago she came up with an idea: "Why don't you start a
school here, right at
home? This could be a hotel and a cooking school."
They had the land and the house. Biagio had the knowledge
and experience.
They had four great children: Agostino, then 30, Giuseppe,
27, Odilia, 22,
and Laura, 14.
Giuseppe developed the business and manages the hotel
and school. Agostino
promotes it. Odilia and Laura assist their father. On
any given day, you
may see Odilia making a tiramis™ and pouring wine for
guests or Laura
setting the tables in the main dining room. And Mami
Camilla is typically
making sure that everything goes smoothly while her husband
leads the
classes and works his magic in the kitchen.
The cooking class is going well. Students slice fresh
pasta, chop garlic,
cut blood oranges, stir the pot of simmering red sauce.
The students marvel
at how easy Biagio makes the cooking look.
"To make a lasagna, you place a layer of the pasta we
just made, add the
mozzarella, the meatballs, the bÈchamel sauce, the sliced
eggs, the
Parmigiano and the tomato sauce. Then you repeat the
process all over
again."
"And the ricotta cheese?" a student asks.
"No, lasagna doesn't take ricotta," Biagio responds. "But
I understand food
can be adapted to people's preferences. I like to make
people try my food
and compare it to their versions and taste the difference."
Four hours go by. The students laugh, sip wine and take
notes. Hotel guests
begin to arrive in the adjoining ample dining room. Biagio
has already
found out how many guests in the hotel are coming for
dinner. The feast is
about to begin.
A four-course meal is included for every student. For
the guests, 15 euros
-- less than $20-- gives them a seat for an authentic
Italian dining
experience and all the wine they want to drink. It looks
like a scene from
a movie. Americans, Australians, British and Japanese
are among the regular
visitors. "In general," the chef says, "people come here
to relax, learn,
eat and have fun."
Salute Biagio!
And Salute, Dad! Thanks for changing your thoughts about men in the kitchen.
Contact ELIO LETURIA at 313-223-4429 or leturia@freepress.com
http://www.freep.com/features/
food/italy14e_20050614.htm
MAMI CAMILLA
Via Cocumella, 4 --80065, Sant' Agnello di Sorrento,
Naples, Italy,
39-081-8770677
Mami Camilla offers various culinary vacations and cooking
classes, the
first three named after the women in the family.
Courses
Odilia. 12-hour basic group class, 3 days a week, 12
dishes; 328 euros
(US$400)
Laura. 20-hour general group class, 5 days a week, 20
dishes; 433 euros
(US$529)
Camilla. 30-hour intensive group class, 6 days a week,
28 dishes; 583 euros
(US$712)
All the courses include 6 dinners, attendance certificate,
recipe book and
apron. Classes can be extended to several weeks, according
to your needs.
Single classes
One-on-one. Individual class; 240 euros (US$293)
Two-on-one. 2 students; 210 euros (US$257) per person
Group class; 100 euros (US$122) per person
Each four-hour class includes a dinner. You can take as
many classes as you
want.
For details on cooking classes and accommodations visit,
www.mamicamilla.com.
CULINARY VACATIONS SERIES
Part 2: Today, Free Press designer Elio Leturia takes
a cooking class on
the southern coast of Italy.
Part 1: Last week, staff writer Patricia Anstett shared
a taste of New
Orleans. Read her story and sample the recipes at www.freep.com/features/
food/neworleans7e _20050607.htm.
ACCOMMODATIONS
Prices vary depending on the season.
There are 23 available rooms.
Single: 40-60 euros (US$49-73)
Double: 50-80-90 euros (US$61-98-110)
Triple: 75-90-105 euros (US$91-110-128)
Quadruple: 90-110-120-130 euros (US$110-134-147-159)
Rates are per room per night. All prices include breakfast.
Cooking students get a special rate. The longer you stay,
the cheaper it
gets.
For details on cooking classes and accommodations visit,
www.mamicamilla.com.
And this time, his father -- who now has not only entered
the kitchen, but
cooked in it -- is not a deterrent.
Mami Camilla opened two years ago. Next to Sorrento, in
the quaint town of
Sant'Agnello, almost an acre of fertile land plays host
to a hotel and
cooking school just one block from the blue Mediterranean
Sea.