Ecce Parmo! C

Please fold up this newspaper and set it aside. Come back next week, because today’s recipe is about as sacrilegious as it gets.

And Italians, like the French, can be almost militantly protective of their sacred cuisine.

One of my favourite internet haunts is a page called Italians Mad At Food, wherein there’s an endless parade of Italian folk fuming at people “getting Italian food wrong”.

It’s mainly Americans, desperately trying to jazz up their eggplant Parmigiana with chipotle sauce or adding cream to a carbonara, and it’s nearly always hilarious.

A friend recently pointed out one particular transgression that had the group up in arms (and guessing by the vitriol, probably attempting to book transatlantic tickets with an airline that accepted pitchforks and burning torches) which was a pizzeria in New York making a crisp chicken “base” as an amusing alternative to dough for its pizzas.

I was rather taken with the idea, and set about devising my own version.

Clearly no one’s told Italy about the famous Teesside speciality, the Chicken Parmo, which has been a post-pub staple in the north east for decades.

A batted-out, breadcrumbed chicken breast, deep fried and covered in tomato sauce and cheap stringy cheese, it’s one of those rare dishes that actually improves with a slight excess of booze on board. But the Italians Mad At Food saw this chicken pizza as pretty much a declaration of war, and wrote in their hundreds about how their national cuisine is sacrosanct and immutable, never to be changed or tinkered with.

Well, I’m not to be deterred, and here’s my recipe for chicken schnizza; a sort-of chicken schnitzel – I’m using minced chicken instead of a flattened breast in order to get the proper circular shape – topped with a freshly-made tomato sauce loaded with garlic and herbs, a smooth béchamel sauce, and some lovely creamy, stretchy mozzarella.

A touch of fresh basil seals the deal, and you have a fun, delicious supper dish that’s perfect with a crisp green salad.

Amusement aside, there’s a larger argument going on here, about where exactly we should stop messing with so-called ‘classic’ recipes.

I’m all for experimentation, as my Indian Shepherd’s Pie demonstrates, and to be honest I can’t see any problem with mucking about with dishes in the name of fun and innovation. Only the terminally dim would choose to kick up a fuss about tinkering with a sacred text.

The sensible will just see it as a bit of amusement, perhaps with delicious and surprising results.

Of course, sole Bonne Femme will always be sole Bonne Femme, and long may it continue to be that superb combination of fish, cream and mushrooms.

But let’s also be happy to grate a little truffle in there, or a swirl of wholegrain mustard, or a little bacon, without the food police knocking down the back door and arresting everyone.

And as for this dish, no, it’s not a pizza. It’s not a schnitzel. I don’t really know what it is. My friend David came up with the rather catchy name.

But it’s absolutely delicious, a real pleasure to make, and no amount of disapproval should deter you. Life’s too short. La Lotta Continua!