According to the cultural association Livorno Euro Mediterranea, the name of the city’s sociable soup-stew, cacciucco, is borrowed from the Turkish word küçük (small). The reason for this, according to the more plausible origin myths and etymology accepted by linguistic science, is the introduction to a Livornese tavern (possibly by a Turkish sea merchant) of a Turkish fish soup called balık çorbası. The resourceful and quickly adopted recipe called for küçük balık (small fish), and küçük was borrowed and became cacciucco.
However the soup came into being, a recipe made from an amalgam of fish had the most favourable environment in a thriving Tuscan seaport with its amalgam of communities, as well as in the arrival of tomatoes in everyday cooking, in the late 1700s. The evolving cacciucco reflected all of this, so no wonder it became a symbol of the city. At this point, I must also mention cacciucco from the town of Viareggio, 50km north of Livorno, which is also as loved and as varied as the cooks who make it. Cacciucco in all forms illustrates beautifully the food historian Massimo Montanari’s theory that (often) the key word in the evolution of recipes is “encounter”: “The more numerous and interesting the encounters, the richer the result.”
And cacciucco is rich in flavour – fantastically so – and this is thanks to the first step (in some versions): cooking garlic, red chilli, tomato, wine and bony fish, then passing the lot through a sieve for a deeply flavoured broth that will stain your shirt when you eat it. Sieving is a messy but worthwhile step and, once done, it is then simply a case of adding the rest of the fish in order of their cooking times, and of making toast.
As for the fish, use what is available, thinking broadly in three groups and knowing that you can adapt and swap. The first group is split into two, which could be different bits of the same fish: the bony, smaller fish and heads (300g) for the broth, and the fleshier pieces of fish (400g). When buying, check the regularly updated Marine Stewardship Council guidelines for sustainable options; talk to a fishmonger; look out for hake, pollack, coley, ling, bass, grey mullet, gurnard, monkfish, whiting, brill, drab, flounder, snapper, plaice, sole and skate. The second group is cephalopods, and you want about 400g of those: cuttlefish, squid, octopus, either fresh or frozen, which often cooks more tenderly. The final group is shellfish: 300g cockles, mussels or clams.
Montanari’s observation about minestra also applies to caccuico, any dish ladled from one pot into the bowl of each diner, and an action of enormous and ordinary convivial significance, especially at this time of year. If, however, in the moment of ladling or eating, there is a drip, don’t delay or be shy: throw white wine or salt on to a cloth, or directly at the person’s shirt.
Sociable fish stew, inspired by a Livornese-style cacciucco
Serves 6
Olive oil
3 garlic cloves, peeled and minced
1 small red chilli, minced
1 sprig fresh sage
400g crushed tinned tomatoes
1 glass of red wine
300g small bony fish
A few sprigs of flat-leaf parsley, separated into stalks and leaves
400g cuttlefish or squid, cleaned and cut into rings
400g monkfish tail, gurnard or red snapper, cut into pieces
6 large prawns or langoustines (optional)
300g clams and/or mussels, soaked if needed
Garlic-rubbed toast, to serve
Working in a large pan on a medium-low heat, warm four tablespoons of olive oil, then fry the garlic, chilli and sage for a few minutes. Add the tomatoes and wine, simmer for a few minutes, then add the small bony fish and parsley stalks. Simmer for 15 minutes, during which time the fish will collapse completely, then pass the lot through a sieve.
Back in the now empty pan, warm three more tablespoons of olive oil and add the squid or cuttlefish rings, stirring until they turn white. Add the broth, bring to an almost boil, then simmer, stirring occasionally, for 40 minutes, until the squid is very tender. If the broth seems too dense, add a little hot water.
Add the pieces of fish and the prawns/langoustines, if using, make sure the simmer is gentle, then cover the pot and cook for five minutes. Add the mussels/clams, cover again and cook for another three or four minutes, or until the shells open (discard any that don’t). Stir in the minced parsley leaves and serve with toast rubbed with garlic.
