I've lived within spitting distance of Sydney's Italian quarter for twenty years but, not having a sweet tooth, have never tried zabaglione. That was before I discovered how much alcohol is in it. Some recipes call for all white wine or champagne, but with figs, especially, the sweet fruitiness of marsala marries beautifully with the fruit. As Boronia marsala is hard to come by, I used an Australian substitute - Angrove Bookmark crema all 'ouvo. I tried the zabaglione with grilled figs as well, but the fresh ones were better.
This recipe is somewhat more recent than the others: it's based on one from the Australian Women's Weekly Italian Cooking Class Cookbook and before you scoff, I've known Chinese people who use the Women's Weekly Chinese Cooking Class Cookbook. The earliest Australian recipe I found for zabaglione was in Broken Hill's Barrier Miner in 1934, but it used fruit juice rather than marsala.
Zabaglione
5 egg yolks
1/4 cup white sugar
1/2 cup marsala
1/4 cup white wine
2-3 figs per person
Whisk the egg yolks and sugar in the top half of a double boiler, off the heat, until the sugar is incorporated into the yolks. Place double boiler on top of pan of boiling water and gradually whisk in the marsala and wine. Continue to cook, whisking, for about ten minutes until all the marsala and wine has been added and the mixture is thick and creamy. If it sticks, remove from the heat and beat with a wooden spoon. Serve with fresh figs. Serves 2 to 4.
I haven't been to the Italian Society Restaurant where Phyrne has dinner with her lover in this week's episode, but I have been to similar places in Sydney and Wollongong. The International Club in Wollongong shared a menu if not an ambiance with the Society. But in East Sydney in the early 1980s there was a restaurant that could have been its pup. No Come Skinnys got its name from the proprietor's description of his attempt to lose weight. Others, apparently, called it The Hole in the Wall. It may have been the original No Names; it certainly didn't have a name, and when I knew it the entrance was through a door opening onto a back lane somewhere near the corner of Stanley and Palmer Streets. Before that the place may have been in Francis Street, one street up from Stanley, closer to College St. Or it may not have moved at all, the location depending where you started from.
No Come Skinny's had maybe a dozen tables, with carafes of red and white wine on red-and-white checked plastic tablecloths and beautiful surly children who looked like they'd been booted into the room to act as waiters when they'd rather be labouring over their homework. "What d'ya want pig trotters for? You already got 'em." The mother was Irish. The wine was included.
The Italian Society Restaurant also poured drinks for free, but at the cost of frequent appearances before the licensing court. In February 1926 Guiseppe Codognotto, the proprietor, gave evidence that he collected money from club members and, when food was served, provided the wine at no extra charge. The Society's president, a M. Genova, got off for lack of evidence, but a singer, Ricardo Torre, was fined a quid for "having consumed liquor on unlicensed premises during prohibited hours".
Phyrne is such a Society regular she leaves it to the waiter to decide her order. He brings a bottle of "wicker-clad chianti", fettucine puttanesca, mullet with steamed celery and boiled potatoes and, to finish, zabaglione and cafe negro.
I've lived within spitting distance of Sydney's Italian quarter for twenty years but, not having a sweet tooth, have never tried zabaglione. That was before I discovered how much alcohol is in it. Some recipes call for all white wine or champagne, but with figs, especially, the sweet fruitiness of marsala marries beautifully with the fruit. As Boronia marsala is hard to come by, I used an Australian substitute - Angrove Bookmark crema all 'ouvo. I tried the zabaglione with grilled figs as well, but the fresh ones were better.