LA TERRA FORTUNATA: THE SPLENDID FOOD AND WINE OF FRIULI-VENEZIA GIULIA, by Fred Plotkin, Broadway Books, New York, 2001, 412 pages, $35.

If Napoleon was right, and armies do march on their stomachs, perhaps we could say the same of tourists – and particularly of tourists in Italy. What most of us associate with Italian food, however, and what most of us love about it – creamy risotto, garlic-infused tomato sauces, rich gelato – appear hardly at all on the pages of “La Terra Fortunata.” Fred Plotkin has written a cookbook that’s an homage to a region relatively unknown to most tourists, the northernmost region of Italy; here in the Friuli-Venezia Giulia, the geographic center of Europe, influences from the bordering countries of Austria and Slovenia have influenced the cuisine in surprising ways.

The ingredients called for demonstrate the international nature of the region’s food: paprika, caraway, dill, cinnamon, poppy seeds, juniper berries and nutmeg (rather than basil, oregano, thyme); lard rather than olive oil; Montasio cheese rather than Parmesan or pecorino; cabbage, barley, squash, potatoes, and beans (rather than eggplant, peppers, tomatoes). The staple food isn’t rice or pasta but polenta. Tucked up in the corner of Italy, east of Venice, the region has made the most of not only Eastern and middle-European ingredients, but also the ingredients that result from its own mountains, plains and Adriatic coast.

Plotkin has written more than a cookbook: “La Terra Fortunata” has long sections on the history of the region, its geography, its literature (James Joyce made his home in Trieste, the region’s capital, for 14 years). In addition, it’s a book as much about wine as about food; “One of the core ideas in this book,” writes the author, “is the parity between wine and food.” Consequently, every recipe is accompanied by suggestions for wine – and happily for those of us who don’t have access to large wine shops, the suggestions are usually for a grape or blend.

Otherwise, the organization of the book is pretty much what you’d expect: appetizers, soups, sauces, etc. The recipes are clear, easy to follow, and preceded by interesting notes concerning the history of certain dishes and their place in the traditional cuisine. So tantalizing are many of the recipes, that one can only regret our inability to get some of the more exotic seafood, cheeses and wines.

Just browsing through the chapters, though, provides a fascinating overview of this region’s breadth of food. Christmas lasagna, for example, calls for apples, figs, raisins and walnuts; chicken is combined with sauerkraut, asparagus with honey and lemon sauce; goulash makes its appearance, demonstrating the Hungarian influence; and the last two sections stress the importance of coffee and grappa to making a meal complete.

One of the strengths of “La Terra Fortunata” is its long section on polenta. Plotkin writes about the history of this traditional food in his introduction, describing how, in less affluent times, “a big pot of polenta would be made on Monday, a bit of which would be eaten hot that day and the rest would be allowed to cool for use throughout the week.” A dish capable of infinite variety, it could be “grilled, baked with cheese, or topped with butter and sugar as a treat.”

When he gets to the recipes, in the chapter “Polenta, Rice, and Barley,” he gives enough instruction to make the preparation of this delicious dish just about foolproof. It’s now relatively easy to find polenta in stores in central Maine (and not the instant kind, either); a couple of cups of that, some water and salt, a big pot and a wooden spoon are all you need for the basics. Plotkin then provides recipes for polenta with ginger, with cheese and mushrooms, with mint sauce, with anchovy. I have also found his recipes for meat, fish, and poultry interesting and relatively easy to prepare; his goulash, for example, combines a few ingredients but cooks them in a quite unconventional way (no browning, very, very slow cooking) to produce a really delicious stew.

“La Terra Fortunata” is, in short, a gorgeous book that combines information about an unusual area of Europe, easily-followed recipes, and photos that will make your mouth water and your feet itch. I recommend curling up in an easy chair to read this book; the trouble is, you may have a hard time deciding whether to pack your suitcase or fire up your oven when you come to the last page.

Fred Plotkin’s Barley with Mushrooms, Carrots,

and Grapes

1 cup pearl barley

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 teaspoons very finely minced onion

8 ounces fresh mushrooms, such as cremini, chiodini, or shitake (or 2 ounces/55 g dried porcini that have been soaked in water until they are reconstituted), chopped

1/3 cup grated carrot

1/3 cup red grapes, cut in half and seeded

In a colander, rinse the barley under cold running water. Transfer to a large pot, add 3 cups cold water, cover and cook over low heat, simmering for 35 to 40 minutes, until all the liquid is absorbed.

About 5 minutes before the barley is done, melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat and immediately add the onion. A few seconds later, add the mushrooms and cook them just until they yield some liquid. Add the carrot and grapes, stir rapidly for about 30 seconds, then remove the pan from the heat. The goal is to have a fair amount of liquid in the pan from the butter, mushrooms, onions, and grapes. Once the barley is ready, stir it into the skillet so that all the ingredients are thoroughly combined. Serve immediately.

Serves 4 to 6.

Note: This is a perfect accompaniment to, as Plotkin says, “every imaginable meat and many types of fish.” It does, however, need some salt.