Lavender!

  

I love lavender. I love to look at it, smell it, grow it, eat it and use the essential oil for all sorts of things. It is a wonder plant. Now that it is officially summer, it is also lavender season! And there is nothing quite like seeing fields of lavender growing under the hot sun. Unfortunately, those glorious lavender fields are only found in France. But, lavender thrives in all warm climates, including here.

Last night around 11, after a chat with family about the new roundabout landscaping of lavender, my husband took me for a “drive”. Even though he likes to be mysterious, I know him well and I knew he was taking me to the next city over to go snip some of this new lavender under the cover of darkness. As we were getting on the freeway, which is also the direction to Genoa and ultimately France, he tells me that if I really wanted, he could just keep going and we could get to Provence, get some lavender and make it back in time for him to work in the morning. Hmm, a tempting offer, and as I entertain the thought, I decide it would be a much nicer evening to make it to bed before dawn. Oh, how times have changed. I guess this is what it’s like to be an adult—comfort and logic over adventure.

Patriotic Dinner

On the first official day of summer, I went to the fruit and vegetable market downtown. Oh, there were so many great things! As I meandered around, I was inspired to make some delicious and classic Italian dishes for dinner. 

I started with a Caprese Salad, which is now being called insalata di tre colore (three color salad), as the official salad of Italy for it's 150th anniversary (it's a green, white and red salad=patriotic). If you are not familiar with the insalata Caprese, it is a very simple arrangement of sliced tomato, mozarella di buffala, fresh basil and olive oil.

Hummus Genovese

I love to whip up a quick hummus because it is so quick and easy and you can make all kinds of flavors. This is not a traditional hummus, of course, but you can’t find tahini in Italy. In this version, I use a handful of fresh basil, however, you can make it with any other herb, or roasted red peppers, or roasted garlic, or sun-dried tomato…the possiblities are endless! And seriously, this takes less than ten minutes to make.

Oggi al Mare!

Today the sun was shining and there wasn’t a hint of rain in the sky. There was only one thing to do—hit the beach! I text messaged my sister-in-law to get ready because today we were finally going to get some sun. Unfortunately, living in a port city means that there are no actual beaches to lay out on. But no worries, this is the Riviera and there are plenty of beaches to be had. 

Clafoutis de Susina

My old neighborhood in Los Angeles has a bakery that I referred to as going to Paris. It is absolutely beautiful and decorated just like a little Parisian bakery, from the wrought iron and marble tables, to the big red booths along the walls, even to it being filled with writers. Susina Bakery (corner of Beverly and La Brea Blvds.) is where I would go when I had a hankering for a great croissant and cappuccino, or for one of their fantastic oven roasted tomato and onion croissants. But with all the years of going to Susina Bakery, I never knew that susinas were a type of plum much loved in Europe (and a fruit that my husband loves). 

Ode de Toilette

It’s April 23rd, 2002, and almost noon as the train pulls into La Spezia Centrale train station. I have been in one spot since I left Marseille at 5am. My friends and I have about a half hour until our train leaves for the Cinque Terre and I have to pee. But, not just have to…REALLY have to. Ugh, a train station…not my first choice of locations, but you can’t be picky when you’re traveling, right? With trepidation, I follow the signs to the restroom. Low and behold, I walk into a brand new, sparkling train station bathroom with new tile walls, white marble counters and everything is clean. How fantastic! Who would have guessed? I am filled with relief and confidently approach an empty stall-- but I am stopped dead in my tracks. Inside this sparkling new restroom with the top of the line everything, is a new, shiny and sparkling porcelain foot grate. What? I couldn’t believe my eyes—a three-foot square, porcelain squat pad, complete with grated foot holders and a spiffy drain in the center. I did not know that companies made top of line porcelain squatting pads.

Caffé Culture

The birth of my niece has brought me stateside once again and even though I am in love with this beautiful bambina, I can’t say I don’t miss my Italian luxuries (which are normal everyday things, but luxuries to me!)

Gone are my morning cappuccinos and cornetti… Now if I order a cappuccino, I get one of these humungous cups filled with I don’t know what. This is what I got the other day when I ordered a cappuccino at a local breakfast place. This cup was almost bigger than my head! And the contents? Some powdered mix from a push-button machine—no actual espresso. There has got to be tighter rules on what places can get away with serving!

The Italians, although not much of a rule-based culture, are very strict when it comes to food and coffee. So I thought I would give a little caffé lesson so you can be more in the know on the correct way of serving these beverages. But first, a little background and a few cultural comments about il caffé.

Strawberry Pan d'Oro

This is called Pan d’oro, or golden bread. It is a panettone, which is a sweet bread, but it is not the classic one we know with the round top, raisins and candied fruit pieces. This is a very tall, star-shaped and airy vanilla bread from Verona that is served covered in zucchero vanigliato, or vanilla scented powdered sugar. Are your teeth hurting yet? Yeah, it’s sweet. It’s a favorite with the kids not only for the sweet bread factor, but also because it’s fun to shake it up in the bag with the sugar. There are always volunteers for that! 

La Polentata!

Before leaving for a trip back to the US, I was invited to join my cousin and his family and friends for la polentata, or polenta party. They live just outside of Rome and I was going to pass a few days with them before my flight out. I was very excited at the prospect of joining a real polenta party! I had never been to one before, and even though my in-laws questioned why I was going to Rome for a polenta party, I couldn’t wait! Italians are very particular about traditional dishes and some think that polenta just can't be made outside of Lombardia (the region that is known for polenta). But seriously, it’s cornmeal in a box…something that can be made anywhere—even as FAR AWAY as Rome.

Marvelous Movers

Italian cities are cluttered with large apartment buildings, narrow streets and many old buildings with 5-7 stories, often without an elevator. The buildings lucky enough to have elevators are only made for a maximum of two to four people. If you have ever been inside an Italian apartment building elevator, you know how cramped it can be. When my in-laws come home from grocery shopping, they load their tiny elevator with the bags and my mother-in-law rides it up while my father-in-law takes the stairs!

So in my curiosity of wondering how things work, I have always wondered how people move their furniture into high floor apartments. Plus, Italians have large pieces of furniture; in part because the standard for ceiling height is at least ten feet. They have entertainment units aptly called parete (meaning wall) because it fills an entire wall; an armadio, or wardrobe, for each bedroom that is at least eight feet tall and also covers an entire wall; dining room furniture, couches etc. I have found myself scratching my head many times trying to figure out how they move these monoliths from one place to another. And you never see people moving in or struggling to carry furniture up the stairs--so how do they do it?

Leftover Panettone – Part 2

For the second installment, I made another dish I LOVE, Bread Pudding (made with panettone). This is very simple to make and with a sauce that I invented on a whim, it's even more amazing.  Panettone is very soft, buttery and fragrant and makes a wonderful bread pudding. I'm just sorry that I'm posting this in February when stores no longer sell panettone, but you can still get it on Amazon. But if you happen to have one left-over from the holidays, then you are in luck! Otherwise, bookmark this and return to it in December.

Haute Cucina

The French are obsessed with les parfums (perfumes). 

The Italians are obsessed with la pasta. 

So while the French have Chanel N. 5, the Italians have Spaghetti N. 5! 

It’s the little things that give you a glimpse into a culture…wink, wink.

Leftover Panettone - Part 1

In Italy, the Christmas season doesn’t start with store shelves filled with decorations and presents—it starts with shelves of Panettone. These tall, sweet breads welcome the holidays and the many huge meals that go with them. You never go to someone’s house without a big box of panettone in hand. The problem is, if you’re not a born and “bread” carb junkie like most Italians, by the end of the holiday season, you will have quite the collection of panettone. So what is one to do with all these huge, packaged breads? February is almost over--I need to get cookin'!

One of my favorite things to do with traditional panettone (even more than eating it plain) is to make French toast out of it. The thick, buttery slices filled with raisins and candied oranges goes so well served fluffy and hot with a bit of syrup and orange marmalade. And it’s even super easy. 

The Peanut Butter Ambassador

Peanut butter. A condiment so common in the US, that no one gives a second thought about it. It is so stitched into the fibers of the American life that we just take it for granted. But here in Italy, it just doesn’t exist. In southern Europe, peanut butter (like pecans and fresh cranberries) is a rare and abstract American food that many people have never tasted and some have never even heard of. So seeing it on the shelf of a tiny international food store, located between asian fish sauce and dried shrimp was a very exciting moment. It was a discovery that reunited my husband with his beloved peanut butter. 

We have since purchased three jars, as gifts for friends that really like peanuts but have NEVER tried peanut butter and I have also introduced my sister-in-law to this new nut butter. She has officially classified it as better than Nutella! Wow. There must be something about discovering a new flavor that makes it so special. I mean, I know peanut butter is good, but you should see how Italians go crazy over it! I feel like I’m spreading peanut butter joy. 

San Valentino

For Valentine’s day, my husband took me to dinner at Il Settimo Cielo (Seventh Heaven), a beautiful restaurant which sits atop a hill overlooking the entire bay of La Spezia. Now, eating out for dinner in Italy is a very different process than in an American restaurant. Your evening starts by ordering your vino and an antipasto, or appetizer. After these are brought to you, the waiter will leave you alone for a long while, as this is your conversation time. When you are good and ready to move on to the next course, il primo, you call the waiter to order your pasta, and the story repeats. When you are ready for the next course, il secondo, you call the waiter over to order your meat dish. And so it goes for i dolci, or dessert course, your caffé, your amaro, or after dinner drink and il conto, or check. It would be considered rushed and unnecessary to order all your dishes at once and your waiter will never come around several times to check on you or interrupt your meal without you calling for him. 

As Easy as...Quiche?

Although I am Italian, live in Italy and speak Italian, my personality, mentality and actions are more French than anything else. In fact, my Italian husband always asks me why I didn’t marry a Frenchman! Anyway, my style français is most evident in my cooking style. I love to cook all types of food, Thai, Indian, Mexican, etc. but the dishes that I consider my mainstays are always French in nature. This brings me to my all-time favorite lunch: La Quiche. In France, lunch specials abound with different quiches served with a salad, or even better, fresh, hot, pommes frites! Mmm…

The best thing about quiche is that you can make unlimited versions. But since we all know quiche to have a crust, it can be a deterrent for whipping one up at home (it was for me). Fortunately, there is a much easier way. Here is my recipe for a crustless quiche that will be the easiest quiche ever! Actually, there is an even easier version, which uses leftover grilled vegetables (thus no sautéing), and is really my favorite. But it’s still winter here, so no grilling. For this quiche, I have used zucchini and tomatoes (because that is what I had on hand) but I encourage you to use your favorite ingredients.

Strange Fruit

Every once in a while, I come across some kind of fruit or vegetable that I either have never seen, never eaten, or never dared to prepare. But seeing as how I am intrinsically curious and always up for a challenge, I like to give it a try. I am actually quite a bit more daring than my husband, but when I was struck with fascination at the container of bovine nerves, he quickly put the kibosh on it. At least I have gotten him to like vegetables enough to conquer the plant world. So what would you guess this is? (I have not altered these pics, it really is this color)

Making Herbes de Provence

One of my favorite things to cook with is Herbes de Provence. I use it in just about everything. But, as you may know, this seemingly normal blend of culinary herbs can get quite pricey. It’s just something about having a French name that adds a few to the price. Don't think the price reflects import charges either, because the other day I saw a tiny jar at my local grocery store for almost 4 euros!! That is an outrageous price for herbs in Italy and I'm only a few hours from Provence! Fortunately for me, my garden in Sicily has the perfect climate for these herbs and planting them was my first order of duty (after clearing about 15 years of weeds) when we moved in last year. 

After a recent weekend trip to back Sicily, I found my garden overgrown with lavender, sage, rosemary, thyme and oregano! I immediately started snipping away in order to bring back copious fruits of my labor. If you have your own herb garden, you can easily make this mixture as well. 

No Way Perrier!

This comes from a collection of cynical writings I did while at University in Wisconsin.
These are "Tales From the Tundra, circa 2000:

Ever since I first stepped foot in Central Wisconsin, I have seen these green bumper stickers on the back of beat up, rusted out American cars that read: “NO WAY PERRIER!” And ever since I saw the first one, I have wondered what it meant. Was it something against that damn bourgeois sparkling water, a statement against those damn Frenchman that come to our country to have sex with our wives, or was it something totally unrelated? I have wondered this for so long, yet everyone I asked didn’t have the faintest clue as to what I was talking about. By the end of this last semester here, I had completely given up on my quest for truth.

Low and behold, my first night out with my friend last weekend, an older man next to me at a bar struck up a conversation with me. After a while of discussing random topics with this old man (whom was quite talkative after throwing a few back), he brought up how Point Beer (the local Stevens Point brewery) used to taste really good until the city made them switch from natural spring water to city water. He explained that there is a naturally occurring spring not far from Stevens Point that produces some of the purest, cleanest and most mineral rich water. Then he told me that it became so popular that Perrier wanted to build a plant nearby to bottle the water. Well, the townspeople did not like that idea! They didn’t want those damn French people to take all their water! Thus the bumper stickers creatively displaying their dismay with a strong statement like: “NO WAY PERRIER!”

I told the man how delighted I was to finally know what that bumper sticker meant, and he was happy to have helped me. Then I pointed out that it was good to know that Perrier really bottles natural spring water, but he didn’t seem to appreciate that idea. Plus, telling him how much I loved France and French people didn’t really help either. He wasn’t very talkative after that. 

You think he had one of those bumper stickers?

High Flying Clothes

If you live in Italy, you hang your clothes from your balcony or window. It's just the way it is. But it gets interesting when you live on high floors. The higher up your apartment, the more dizzying it is to hang your clothes and the longer your stuff has to fall. It is not uncommon, if fact, to encounter a lone sock or shirt on the street. Common courtesy here is to pick up the item and stick it in the building's mailbox. Or, just step over it and ignore it like most people do. Fortunately, this has never been a problem for me--until today. I was hanging up a sock, and the clothes pin suddenly snapped out of my fingers and to my dismay, I watched it plummet three stories to the ground below.  Ah, my first clothesline victim...at least it wasn't a piece of clothing. But it serves as a good wake-up call!