STRETCH: Mortadella, basic bologna's Italian ancestor, makes more with less
- Cinda Chavich
- Mar 29
- 5 min read
In my new series, STRETCH, I'm sharing recipes using Canadian ingredients to save money, reduce waste and celebrate our history.

By CINDA CHAVICH
Mortadella is just bologna with fancy Italian provenance, but it's having a moment.
My current dive into this trending northern Italian deli meat actually started with my book club — discussing the short stories of Canadian author Alice Munro. I wanted to bring something appropriate for the potluck and discussion, reflecting what Munro or her characters might have been eating in the small Ontario towns where her stories are set.

Munro lived a simple life in southern Ontario and there wasn’t much talk of food in her domestic tales of women and dysfunctional family relationships. But in one of her autobiographical stories, she describes packing her father's lunch with "three thick sandwiches of fried meat and ketchup" and that immediately reminded me of a Canadian classic from my own childhood, fried bologna (aka baloney).
THE BALONEY OF BOLOGNA
I also have memories of tasting the original Italian version of this sandwich meat in situ, the fat mortadella salume (sausages) originating in Bologna (hence the North American name). Once, on a press trip with food writers to Italy’s Emilia-Romagna region, I toured a large factory where huge mortadella sausages were made.
Mortadella is a serious Italian sausage, and one with a “Mortadella Bologna IGP” designation, recognized as a protected geographical indication (IGP). They can be big, football sized, or massive — 50-100 kg in weight, 8 feet long and up to 24 inches across.
With cubes of creamy white lardo (pork fat) and sometimes pistachios embedded in the emulsified pink pork sausage base, the Mortadella sausages are first filled and then cooked (not cured).
While it's North American imitation, baloney, is a processed meat, often associated with frugality, during the Italian Renaissance, this smooth and refined sausage was triple the price of prosciutto, the other famed charcuterie of this region.
TRENDY MODERN MORTADELLA
Modern mortadella is a rich and stylish version of that old fashioned, cheap mystery meat of my childhood, a classic Italian addition to a salumi or charcuterie board, usually sliced paper thin for serving.
Which brings me back to my book club appetizers.
When I googled mortadella I discovered it was the new “it” charcuterie — a salumi favoured my many modern chefs. The late great Anthony Bourdain riffed on his favourite mortadella sandwich, apparently based on one he'd eaten in at a bar in São Paulo, Brazil, the meat fried and layered with melted orange cheese and mustard on a soft Portuguese roll.
It's also a favourite ingredient of Evan Funke, the American pasta guru of the moment. Funke uses a puree of mortadella and ricotta to fill ravioli, and makes a simple, comforting dish of cubed mortadella, fried in butter, simmered in cream and tossed with pasta and Parmesan.
ROMAN MORTAZZA
Funke also riffs on the little mortadella sandwich — the Mortazza — a lunch specialty in Rome that’s essentially mortadella and ricotta folded into a little pizza crust, a warm handheld with the fatty mortadella sausage literally melting into the bread.
I also found similar recipes for a mortadella mousse/spread using the sausage whirled up in the food processor with creamy mascarpone cheese.

And there were ideas for mini Mortazza bites, the meat and cheese layered on toasted focaccia bread.
The latter seemed like the best solution for an afternoon of serious literary discussion of Alice Munro's iconic Canadian stories.
And so it was my version of mortazza — small squares of toasted focaccia with a slather of sundried tomato mayo, mascarpone with pesto and arugula, topped with thinly sliced, folded and quickly seared Italian mortadella, and held together with a toothpick — that I served.
They were a hit, even among these the modern day readers, some who also recalled memories of bologna sandwiches or fried baloney "steaks" at home.
LOCAL CHEFS LOVE MORTADELLA
Since creating my stacked focaccia and mortadella sandwiches, I’ve noticed others around town who are devoted to this Italian salumi — whether the new mortadella breakfast sandwich from chef Chris Klassen at Hey Happy, or the big You Had Me At Mortadella grab-and-go sandwich at Ottavio Italian Bakery & Deli, mortadella with pistachio pesto, creamy burrata cheese, pickled red onion and arugula on their own crusty buns. I even noticed that the chefs at Hanks are using pork from locally-raised pigs to create house-made mortadella, studded with pistachios and lardo.

You'll find mortadella at Italian delis in Victoria, from the aforementioned Ottavio to Italian Food Imports downtown or the upscale Gigi's Italian & Specialty Foods in Cadboro Bay. Some is imported from Italy, but there's also the Canadian made San Daniele Mortadella that's widely available.
I like to ask for it sliced thin, to fold before frying in a hot pan, or piling into sandwiches with cheese to toast in a panini press.
You can also add mortadella to pizzas or just served it in ruffled piles on a charcuterie board. A glass of bubbly red Lambrusco is the perfect pairing.
Mortadella di Bologna — it's an Italian classic and an old-fashioned taste of home, and it won't break the bank!
RECIPES:
MORTADELLA MOUSSE
I whipped some mortadella up with ricotta cheese to make this meaty spread — great for crackers or sliced of toasted baguette. Loosen it with milk or cream for a dip or use as a filling for ravioli.
Makes about 2 cups
½ pound (8 oz) mortadella, diced
2/3 cup ricotta cheese
1/3 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
4-5 tablespoons milk or cream
3 tbsp shelled pistachios, roughly chopped
Place the mortadella cubes into the food processor and pulse to chop fine. Add the ricotta, parmesan and 4 tbsp milk (or cream), and process until smooth. Add the additional tablespoon of milk (or a little more) to loosen the spread for a dip.
Place the mousse into a shallow serving bowl and top with the chopped pistachios. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 15 minutes before serving with crackers or to spread on crostini.
This salty spread keeps well for several days in the refrigerator, and, without the nuts, the mousse makes a great filling for homemade ravioli.

MINI MORTAZZA SANDWICHES
Use plain mortadella (without pistachios) for this recipe.
1 8-inch square focaccia bread
1/3 cup mascarpone cheese
3 tablespoons basil pesto
2 tablespoons chopped pistachios
1/4 cup mayonnaise
3 tablespoons sundried tomatoes (in oil), finely chopped
300 g thinly sliced mortadella
Fresh arugula or watercress leaves
Cut the focaccia in 2-inch squares and then cut each square in half horizontally, making 16 small sandwiches.
Combine the mascarpone with the pesto and pistachios and spread over the cut side of the bottom half of each.
Combine the mayo with the sundried tomatoes and spread over the cut side of the top half of each.

Toasted focaccia, fried mortadella, sundried tomato mayo and mascarpone pistachio pesto
Fold each round slice of mortadella into quarters, forming folded triangles of meat.
Heat a heavy cast iron pan over medium high heat and sear the mortadella quickly on each side to brown.
Place one or two folded triangles of seared mortadella inside each focaccia sandwich, and top with a handful of arugula.
Cover with top pieces of focaccia, and press each mortazza sandwich down, spearing with a long toothpick.
Makes 16 mini sandwich bites for appetizers.

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