On the Routes of History and Taste: Lofoten meets Italy

During my travels outside Norway, I often come across readings that bring my mind back to the natural magnificence of my refuge in Vesterålen for several years. Among these readings, sometimes erudite and historical, I was particularly fascinated by those of the renowned French philosopher Michel de Montaigne. In the distant 16th century, he visited Italy, and his reflections on the places he traversed—including my hometown, Siena—still resonate today as a hymn to discovering the world.

For Montaigne, travel was not merely an opportunity to admire landscapes or visit cities but a genuine exploration into the soul. "Travel is not so much about discovering the world as discovering ourselves in it," he wrote, inviting us to view each step not only as a movement through space but as a journey of inner growth.

In his famous Journal du Voyage, Montaigne documented his route, between 1580 and 1581, through Switzerland, Germany, and Italy. This itinerary, also motivated by a search for remedies for his health problems, reveals a pragmatic and curious traveler. He was not particularly interested in artistic wonders—as Stendhal later criticized him—but rather in the daily life of the places he visited. Traditions, food, customs, and the habits of local populations captured his attention, reflecting a more anthropological than aesthetic approach.

Curiously, Montaigne's journey through Italy leads us to a culinary bridge between my country, Italy, and Norway. During a brief stop in Vicenza, the philosopher enthusiastically noted a meal that included the city’s famous national dish: Baccalà.
Montaigne is thus one of the earliest chroniclers to document that, in Vicenza, the king of dishes—the culinary masterpiece of the 16th century—was Baccalà alla Vicentina. A dish with a unique history, it arose, as Montaigne suggested, from “rubbing one’s mind against others'”—in this case, a small group of Italians and Norwegians from the Lofoten Islands.

A Sinking but Successful Story

On April 25, 1431, Pietro Querini, a Venetian patrician, set sail from Candia in Crete, aboard the mighty Querina, loaded with Mediterranean treasures: golden malvasia wine, fragrant spices, soft cotton, luminous wax, and alum that sparkled like gems. The sea, like a treacherous lover, promised fortunes but concealed storms. Onboard, 68 men of diverse nationalities shared that dream, with Nicolò de Michiele and Cristofalo Fioravante as trusted lieutenants.

After months of navigation, in September near Cape Finisterre, the sea revealed its most ferocious face. The ship was dragged north, beyond the boundaries of known maps, at the mercy of waves and winds. Stripped of its masts and rudder, the Querina became a toy in the hands of the Gulf Stream. For weeks, the crew drifted, abandoned to fate.

Salvation came on January 5-6, 1432, when nature cast the survivors onto the deserted island of Sandøy, in the Lofoten archipelago, beyond the Arctic Circle. Here, 16 survivors, surrounded only by the silence of the sea and biting cold, fought against hunger by feeding on shellfish and mollusks.

But solitude did not consume them: fishermen from Røst, a nearby island, came to their rescue. A small community of about 120 souls, bound to the sea and cod fishing, offered them shelter, warmth, and a hospitality that Querini described as “more inspired by love than desire to receive something in return.” It was here that the shipwrecked crew learned the secrets of stockfish, cod dried by wind and frost, which would accompany them on their journey home.

Røst was not just a refuge but a world unto itself—a place where, in summer, the sun never sets, and in winter, the night seems eternal. Querini stayed on the island for four months, observing, learning, and recording everything in a report now preserved in the Vatican Apostolic Library.

On May 15, 1432, Querini and his companions sailed back toward Venice, passing through cities like Trondheim and London, where they were welcomed by the Venetian community. Finally, on October 12, 1432, they returned home, bringing not only memories of the shipwreck but also a tasting gift from the Arctic region.

Stockfish, thanks to its incredible durability, became a precious food for Venetians, both at home and during long journeys. In 1563, the Council of Trento elevated it to a recommended food for fasting days, promoting its spread throughout Italy, from Vicenza to Naples, and as far as Calabria.

But the story does not end there.
The inhabitants of Røst did not forget Querini. In 1932, a monument was erected on the island of Sandøy in his honor. Today, the Pietro Querini Literary Park in Røst celebrates that meeting, and the "Via Querinissima," a cultural itinerary, invites travelers to retrace the Venetian patrician’s routes, between sea and land, North and South.

Røst also hosts the northernmost Dante Alighieri Committee in the world, making it one of Norway’s most renowned and distinctive destinations. It is visited by over half a million tourists every year, who also have the opportunity to discover, at the nearby terminal point of the Lofoten Islands, an interesting museum dedicated to stockfish. This is even indicated in Italian in the village, a heartfelt tribute from the Norwegian community to the history of stockfish exported to my beloved Italy.

Each journey is a story, but few are legends like that of Pietro Querini. Røst, with its landscape of light and silence, and Venice, with its ancient elegance, intertwined on that day in 1432, gifting the world a timeless tale of survival, solidarity, and beauty.

A Culinary Glossary

Cod, Baccalà, and Stockfish: A Guide to Proper Distinctions

The linguistic confusion surrounding the terms “cod,” “baccalà,” and “stockfish” is a constant in Italian gastronomy. This ambiguity is not just a definitional issue but also a barrier to understanding culinary traditions and the processes that transform a raw ingredient into a product of excellence. Let’s clarify:

• Cod: Refers to a group of fish in the Gadus genus, found in the cold and temperate waters in the Northern Hemisphere. Known for its white and delicate flesh, cod is one of the most versatile ingredients in the kitchen. It can be consumed fresh, frozen, or preserved using traditional methods to enhance flavor and extend shelf life, leading to the creation of baccalà and stockfish.
  
  
• Baccalà: Not a fish species but the result of an ancient preservation method. Through salting, cod is treated with copious amounts of salt, partially dehydrating the flesh and preventing spoilage. This process ensures preservation and imparts an intense, distinctive flavor appreciated in many regional Italian recipes.
  
  
• Stockfish: Cod preserved through drying. Traditionally, this technique involves leaving the fish outdoors, hung on wooden racks, leveraging the cold, windy climates of regions like Norway or Iceland. While cod is the most commonly used fish for stockfish, in some countries, other species such as wolffish or haddock may also be dried and turned into stockfish.
  
  

In Italy, the improper use of “baccalà” and “stockfish” is widespread and often misleading. For instance, the renowned Baccalà alla Vicentina actually uses stockfish rather than salted cod. In the traditional recipe, stockfish is floured and slowly cooked with oil, milk, and onions, then served with polenta.

Understanding and respecting the distinctions between cod, baccalà, and stockfish is not just a matter of terminology but an acknowledgment of culinary traditions surrounding these products. Cod is an extraordinary raw material, and preservation methods like salting and drying embody centuries of artisanal wisdom.

Educating about the correct terminology and promoting awareness of the unique qualities of baccalà and stockfish are crucial for preserving Italian culinary richness and its ability to tell stories of territories and cultures through different dishes.