Ava’s been pointing to the giant orange mass on our world map lately and asking “are we eating that country tonight?” Each time I know without looking that she’s pointing to Russia. She always is. To her little three year-old mind, there’s nothing more enticing than the biggest country on the map (Russia is literally 1/8th of the world’s landmass!). This week I can finally tell her “yes.” Russian food is simplicity itself. We’re talking cozy staples designed to get people through long tough winters, like beef stroganoff and princess pink borscht, that traditional beet soup we tried with Belarus [Recipe] (Russia is home to a dizzying array of borscht. Want it hot? No problem. Chilled? Sure thing. Inside a carnival colored cathedral? If you promise not to spill.) Then there’s the pickles. Pickles were a great way to preserve food in harsh weather, so it’s a standby from the old days. Pickles in Russia are not limited to cucumbers – you’ll find pickled garlic, tomatoes… even garlic shoots. I know, because I saw it on Andrew Zimmern’s show …
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THE SCENE Pleasure is spread throughout the earth in stray gifts to be claimed by whoever shall find. (William Wordsworth) I spend hours daydreaming about other countries – about how beautiful they are, about the incredible food they eat. Every week I take my family to one of these countries via stovetop travel and we imagine the joy we’d have living life in those countries. But I’m increasingly uneasy with this set up. I’ve had trouble pinpointing my discomfort, until the other day when my issue hit me like a ton of bricks. Part of loving the world we are in… well… it’s loving the world right where we are, right now. To quote a lobster I know: The seaweed is always greener, in somebody else’s lake. You dream about going up there, but that is a big mistake. Just look at the world around you, right here on the ocean floor. Such wonderful things surround you, what more are you looking for? (“The Little Mermaid”) Truth is, I’m a lot like Ariel, more focused on …
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I don’t usually give a lot of thought to Dracula, except for that one era in the nineties when several movies came out and I read “Interview with a Vampire” in two and a half late-night sittings. For a long time afterwards my brain bore the imprint of fear. Do not leave the windows open in the glittering, eerie night, a little voice told me. Whatever you do, sleep with garlic in close proximity – preferably around the neck, the voice added. (I would have done so, if it hadn’t been so uncomfortable) So here we are – a decade and a half later – the week before Halloween, and we’re cooking Romania. All those old feelings have come back, jittering out from my psyche. To quell this nervous energy, I’m happy to report I found a recipe inspired directly by the cuisine of Dracula’s hometown: Transylvania. Perhaps the Count ate it himself. Dracula was a real man from the 1400’s (with an epic mustache), originally known as Vlad the Impaler because of the extraordinary punishments he doled …
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Cabbage patch kids always seemed creepy to me when I was little. What kind of baby grows out of a cabbage? Could you still eat the cabbage once you harvested the baby? This doll raised lots of questions. Not to say this stopped me from wanting a cabbage patch doll more than Rainbow Brite leggings, because I did. The urge was major. Now that I am a couple (few) decades older, I know exactly what was going on – mostly because it’s starting to happen with Ava. I wanted those dolls because all the other kids wanted them. They were collected in the 80’s quicker than Michael Jackson gloves. As a rather “thrifty” family living in a “thrifty” part of Boston (I slept in one corner of our apartment’s living room while my brother slept in the other), I wanted nothing more than to play with these dolls that rich kids littered their deluxe playrooms with. It all seemed so fancy and grand. And I thought maybe having a doll would make me popular – like the kids who had them. …
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This weekend we bobbed for apples, did some yoga, and took a Sunday drive past acres upon acres of brown trees. They were mostly oaks, poised solemnly against the horizon, their branches nodding as if to say “It’s 80 degrees in October. We give up.” Other than a few spikes of golden yellow, fall seemed to have skipped over our annual 30 minute drive to the pumpkin patch. Considering we forgot to actually buy any pumpkins while there, I’m not sure what to make of our afternoon. One thing is for certain. Anytime I want to escape to the true crispness of fall, I simply have to whip this Romanian menu up. Designed for the fall and winter table, it has everything warm, gooey, and full of bacon. I’m not sure what else there is to life. Unless, perhaps, cheesecake baked into bread. All recipes and the meal review will be posted throughout the week. Transylvanian Cauliflower Casserole with Cheese [Recipe] Wave “Hello” to Dracula while you eat this favorite from his hometown. Steamed cauliflower is then enrobed in …
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Just two weeks ago our friend Marlin went to Romania, in a little spot near Transylvania. He came back with stories of a beautiful country working on unification. His words conjured up images of wagons, cobblestones, mud, and villages lost in time. In this country, one family might eat completely differently than another (surprisingly, there was no mention of vampire eating habits). Of course, it’s not all countryside – there are also stone cities which look out sternly upon the streets. Regardless of where you are, there are cultures from different backgrounds living side by side… trying to figure it all out. Later that night, as I lay in bed, it occurred to me that Romania is no different from the rest of us. From the smallest family, to the entire human race, this is our quest: how can we all come together peacefully? Some days go better than others. So let’s sit around the Romanian Global Table and see what we can learn. For starters, I noticed an old friend from our time cooking …
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The older I get, the harder it is to find time to give. I am so wrapped up in my own life – my own business – that I forget that the easiest way to make the world smile is to give back. There’s a Portuguese proverb that reads: What is bought is cheaper than a gift. I had to reread the proverb several times to really grasp the meaning. I don’t think it means that we all need to be on Pinterest, super-crafting gifts for everyone (although that’s fun, too). While the proverb implies that a gift cannot be bought, it also leaves it open to what constitutes a gift. Perhaps it could even be the gift of spending time together. Or really listening to someone unload their troubles (without the need to solve anything). Or maybe a gift is cooking something together for someone else. During this week’s Portuguese Global Table, Ava and I stood elbow to elbow. We giggled as we patted the soft dough into small squares, topped them with smoky chorizo sausage, …
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Paulo from Portugal told me Atum com Grão is the salad he served at his wedding. The wedding was in France, but they wanted to imbue the reception with a taste of his homeland. Being a very visual person, I immediately imagined his elegant, windswept bride in flowing white gown, chowing down on tuna and chickpeas tossed with onion, lemon juice, and parsley. To be honest, I relish the thought of a bride with tuna and onion breath. How brave. How confident! How awesome these people honor their traditions above and beyond all else. I love it. So here’s to crossing a bridge to new beginnings with the security of tuna and chickpeas on your side. If they can do it, so can we. (P.S. We can also replace the tuna with cod, he says and the lemon juice with vinegar. Lots of yummy options from Portugal.) Serves 4-6 Ingredients: 2, 15 oz cans of chickpeas (rinsed & drained) 1 12 oz can tuna, drained (I used solid white albacore tuna in spring water) 1 cup minced …
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Under the glimmering night skies of Portugal, lines of people snake through the streets, waiting for steaming hot bowls of Caldo Verde. This is the nightclub crowd. The night shift crowd. And the I-can’t-sleep-again-because-I’m-thinking-of-him crowd. I was once a part of this group, wearing high heels until they ached. I was much too young to be out so late at night, but there was nothing like sizzling, steaming European street food to keep the evening’s excitement alive, even at four in the morning when all sensible people had retreated under their comforters. But who needs to go to sleep when there is Caldo Verde? Often sold with a steaming hot chorizo stuffed roll (called Pao com Chourico), this hearty soup is considered by some to be the national dish of Portugal. Each bite is a smooth blend of potatoes, garlic, and onion, with shaved kale and sprinkled with chorizo sausage. Compared to fritters and hot dogs, this is gourmet street food. In my excitement to eat the soup, I forgot to add a healthy drizzle of olive oil, …
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There are three ways to avoid the awkward party phenomenon. 1. You can get to the party early enough to snag a good seat on the couch. 2. You can bring a friend (it’s a well documented fact that, if you have a friend at your side, you’ll have someone to talk to when you don’t feel like dancing, someone to laugh with when you do feel like dancing, and someone to make sure you don’t do anything silly during the twilight zone part of the party). 3. Then there’s these rolls. Oh boy. Show up to a party with steaming hot Portuguese rolls filled with chorizo sausage and not only will you have something to hold onto when you’re not sure what to do with yourself, you’ll draw a crowd. People think bread is so hard to make, but the secret is you just pile everything into a bowl or standing mixer, mix it up, and let it sit for an hour and half. Then you shape it, let it rest and bake. Done! …
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There’s a Portuguese saying “A caridade começa em casa,” or “Charity begins at home.” And what better way, than with food? This is the time of year to cook for friends, friends of friends, and not yet friends. This is the time of year to burst into a quiet room with the scent of freshly baked bread. When the gray skies hang low, you can be the entertainment in your home, office, and community. For starters, you can make a lot of people happy with Portuguese bread – especially when stuffed with chorizo sausage. You can also make people happy with nutritious, wintery salads, and soul-soothing soups. It’s even better if you have a three year-old share the goodies (not only is it cute, but it teaches her the importance of a giving spirit): All recipes and the meal review will be posted throughout the week. Tuna & Chickpea Salad | Atum com Grão [Recipe] Think love in a salad… chickpeas, tuna, lemon juice, fresh cracked pepper and a happy drizzle of olive oil. It’s good for …
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