A Timpano for The New Year
A Fun Food Challenge from The Editor
December 30, 2020
Sheila Harris
When a friend recently emailed an article describing the creation of a timpano, an outlandish entree featured in the 1996 foodie movie, Big Night, I was surprised when my interest was piqued. That, said I, is something I want to try making.
A timpano is basically a giant, drum-shaped pastry shell encasing a conglomeration of Italian-style ingredients. In fact, the word “timpano” is Italian for drum, in English.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve been inspired, voluntarily, to fire up a stove or oven, so I wasn’t sure why this particular dish appealed to me - especially since I didn’t like the look of a majority of the ingredients. It was filled with sausage and meatballs and salami: foods I hadn’t touched in years. But they could be substituted, I told myself.
That’s when I realized it was the challenge of the project that appealed to me. It wasn’t necessarily meant to be some type of gourmet delicacy. Rather, the challenge simply lay in turning it out of its baking container intact, given its rather gargantuan measurements.
A successful end-product would be an enormous, golden-brown pastry that could be cut into picture-perfect wedges. Could I do it? I wasn’t sure, but I knew a failure could still be eaten.
I first looked up recipes and images of timpanos for ideas for ingredients more suited to my palate than were sausage and meatballs. Since the key to the timpano was the outer pastry shell, I was sure the inside could be customized.
I opted for a lasagna-style filling, using penne pasta (instead of traditional noodles), layered with a ragu sauce, a white sauce, and mozzarella cheese. I threw in some brussels sprouts and green olives for good measure, because one must eat their vegetables.
The all-important outer pastry shell, I discovered, was extremely labor-intensive - and where most of my time was spent. Its diameter had to be large enough to line a deep stainless steel or enamelware three-quart bowl - using a formula of twice the height of the bowl, plus the diameter of its top and bottom - with enough pastry dangling over the edge to wrap across the top of the inner ingredients.
The making of the timpano was an hours-long project, but the challenge was fun – in part due to the suspense leading up to the unveiling, or, in this case, “the un-bowling.”
I’ll make it again, but probably not for a year or two. Next time, I’ll ditch the brussels sprouts, add more green olives and bake it a little longer.
The pastry crust recipe I used is below. It makes enough to line and cover the ingredients in a three-quart, oven-proof bowl. The bowl will make eight to ten hearty slices, or up to 16 thinner ones.
You’re on your own with the inner ingredients. Get creative. Use foods that sound good to you, but use lots of cooked, well-drained pasta for stability. You’ll want the end product to be sliceable.
Pastry:
• 4 cups flour • 1 teaspoon salt • 4 beaten eggs • 3 T. olive oil • cold water, as needed.
1. Mix flour and salt in a large bowl.
2. Mix eggs and olive oil in a smaller bowl.
3. Pour egg/olive oil mix into dry ingredients and combine.
4. Add cold water, one tablespoon at a time, and mix until dough will form a soft ball.
Turn the ball of dough onto a large, floured surface (I used a floured, disposable vinyl tablecloth placed over my circular dining table). Roll dough to the desired diameter (approximately 26” for a three-quart bowl), flouring the surface periodically as needed. The dough should be rolled until it’s extremely thin.
(Don’t lose heart! This is hard work!)
When the desired diameter is achieved, carefully fold the dough over itself a couple of times, flouring a little between folds, until it can be picked up and placed inside the thoroughly buttered and olive-oiled bowl to be used for baking.
Carefully unfold the dough, making sure you have enough of it outside of the bowl to wrap over the top of the center ingredients.
Begin layering your chosen interior ingredients, beginning with a goodly amount of cooked pasta in the bottom, with plenty of pasta layered throughout the remainder. I finished my innards with a top layer of my white sauce – a cottage cheese, parmesan, egg mix.
Seal the dough carefully over the inside ingredients, using a little water if necessary. Brush surface liberally with olive oil.
Bake at 350 degrees for a long, long time. The recipe I used suggested baking for an hour, then adding foil across the top and baking another 30 minutes, which is what I did. I think it could have baked 30 minutes beyond that without any problem, though.
After removing the timpano from the oven, let it sit for 30 minutes on a cool surface, then run a butter knife or spatula along the edges to loosen it from the sides of the bowl. Be careful not to puncture the pastry.
Then, place a large serving platter over the top of the bowl and invert. Thump the top of the bowl a couple of times to assist in dislodging the timpano.
Then – drum roll, please - remove the bowl from the timpano and examine the result.
If the timpano is intact, allow it to sit undisturbed for 30 minutes before slicing. It is suggested that after 30 minutes a center core of a couple of inches in diameter be cut out of the entire depth of the timpano, with yet more time given for cooling (I inadvertently overlooked this step).
Carefully slice, serve and enjoy - or spoon it up, as the case may be.
Either way, it’s tasty, and the leftovers are even tastier.
Happy New Year!
Sheila Harris
When a friend recently emailed an article describing the creation of a timpano, an outlandish entree featured in the 1996 foodie movie, Big Night, I was surprised when my interest was piqued. That, said I, is something I want to try making.
A timpano is basically a giant, drum-shaped pastry shell encasing a conglomeration of Italian-style ingredients. In fact, the word “timpano” is Italian for drum, in English.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve been inspired, voluntarily, to fire up a stove or oven, so I wasn’t sure why this particular dish appealed to me - especially since I didn’t like the look of a majority of the ingredients. It was filled with sausage and meatballs and salami: foods I hadn’t touched in years. But they could be substituted, I told myself.
That’s when I realized it was the challenge of the project that appealed to me. It wasn’t necessarily meant to be some type of gourmet delicacy. Rather, the challenge simply lay in turning it out of its baking container intact, given its rather gargantuan measurements.
A successful end-product would be an enormous, golden-brown pastry that could be cut into picture-perfect wedges. Could I do it? I wasn’t sure, but I knew a failure could still be eaten.
I first looked up recipes and images of timpanos for ideas for ingredients more suited to my palate than were sausage and meatballs. Since the key to the timpano was the outer pastry shell, I was sure the inside could be customized.
I opted for a lasagna-style filling, using penne pasta (instead of traditional noodles), layered with a ragu sauce, a white sauce, and mozzarella cheese. I threw in some brussels sprouts and green olives for good measure, because one must eat their vegetables.
The all-important outer pastry shell, I discovered, was extremely labor-intensive - and where most of my time was spent. Its diameter had to be large enough to line a deep stainless steel or enamelware three-quart bowl - using a formula of twice the height of the bowl, plus the diameter of its top and bottom - with enough pastry dangling over the edge to wrap across the top of the inner ingredients.
The making of the timpano was an hours-long project, but the challenge was fun – in part due to the suspense leading up to the unveiling, or, in this case, “the un-bowling.”
I’ll make it again, but probably not for a year or two. Next time, I’ll ditch the brussels sprouts, add more green olives and bake it a little longer.
The pastry crust recipe I used is below. It makes enough to line and cover the ingredients in a three-quart, oven-proof bowl. The bowl will make eight to ten hearty slices, or up to 16 thinner ones.
You’re on your own with the inner ingredients. Get creative. Use foods that sound good to you, but use lots of cooked, well-drained pasta for stability. You’ll want the end product to be sliceable.
Pastry:
• 4 cups flour • 1 teaspoon salt • 4 beaten eggs • 3 T. olive oil • cold water, as needed.
1. Mix flour and salt in a large bowl.
2. Mix eggs and olive oil in a smaller bowl.
3. Pour egg/olive oil mix into dry ingredients and combine.
4. Add cold water, one tablespoon at a time, and mix until dough will form a soft ball.
Turn the ball of dough onto a large, floured surface (I used a floured, disposable vinyl tablecloth placed over my circular dining table). Roll dough to the desired diameter (approximately 26” for a three-quart bowl), flouring the surface periodically as needed. The dough should be rolled until it’s extremely thin.
(Don’t lose heart! This is hard work!)
When the desired diameter is achieved, carefully fold the dough over itself a couple of times, flouring a little between folds, until it can be picked up and placed inside the thoroughly buttered and olive-oiled bowl to be used for baking.
Carefully unfold the dough, making sure you have enough of it outside of the bowl to wrap over the top of the center ingredients.
Begin layering your chosen interior ingredients, beginning with a goodly amount of cooked pasta in the bottom, with plenty of pasta layered throughout the remainder. I finished my innards with a top layer of my white sauce – a cottage cheese, parmesan, egg mix.
Seal the dough carefully over the inside ingredients, using a little water if necessary. Brush surface liberally with olive oil.
Bake at 350 degrees for a long, long time. The recipe I used suggested baking for an hour, then adding foil across the top and baking another 30 minutes, which is what I did. I think it could have baked 30 minutes beyond that without any problem, though.
After removing the timpano from the oven, let it sit for 30 minutes on a cool surface, then run a butter knife or spatula along the edges to loosen it from the sides of the bowl. Be careful not to puncture the pastry.
Then, place a large serving platter over the top of the bowl and invert. Thump the top of the bowl a couple of times to assist in dislodging the timpano.
Then – drum roll, please - remove the bowl from the timpano and examine the result.
If the timpano is intact, allow it to sit undisturbed for 30 minutes before slicing. It is suggested that after 30 minutes a center core of a couple of inches in diameter be cut out of the entire depth of the timpano, with yet more time given for cooling (I inadvertently overlooked this step).
Carefully slice, serve and enjoy - or spoon it up, as the case may be.
Either way, it’s tasty, and the leftovers are even tastier.
Happy New Year!
Shown above, somebody else's idea of an ideal timpano.
Shown above, my far-from-ideal first attempt at making a timpano. I had fun trying, though, which is what this project is all about.
Next time, I’ll bake it a bit longer, and allow it to cool a bit more before slicing. Thankfully, I wasn’t being judged.
It tasted much better than it looked, especially the next day.
Next time, I’ll bake it a bit longer, and allow it to cool a bit more before slicing. Thankfully, I wasn’t being judged.
It tasted much better than it looked, especially the next day.