Brodetto alla Romagnola

I grew up in Cesenatico, a fishing village on the Adriatic. The men went out before dawn and returned with whatever the sea gave them. Their wives did not have the luxury of shopping for specific fish. They cooked what was there. This is brodetto: a stew that changes with every catch, every season, every day.

What makes Romagnol brodetto different from the versions up and down the Italian coast is the vinegar. In Le Marche they use white wine only. In Livorno they make cacciucco with red wine. In Romagna, we add a splash of red wine vinegar that cuts through the richness and makes you want another spoonful and another after that. The vinegar is not an option. It is the identity of the dish.

You must use many types of fish, at least five if you can manage it. One type of fish is not brodetto; it is simply fish in tomato sauce. The variety creates complexity. The firmest fish go in first, the most delicate last. You must not stir or you will have nothing but fragments. And you must serve it over bread. Grilled bread, in the bowl, absorbing the broth. This is how my grandmother served it, and hers before her, and I suspect theirs before that.