Let’s forget Rome and Florence for the moment and fast forward to a small hamlet on the Liguria coast. Nestled between Genova to the north and Camogli to the south lies a brightly painted village named Recco.
It is famous for its water polo team, steep cliffs above the sea, and foremost for its focaccia with cheese.
Upon arriving in Sori, which is a stone’s throw from Recco, we sought out the nearest place to sample this local delicacy. The woman in the trattoria above our apartment made it from scratch for our lunch. At first sight, I thought we had made a language gaff—the focaccia wasn’t at all what I expected. Continue reading
There is a culinary line that dissects the midriff of the Europecontinent. This line proceeds in gradients of latitudes that mayblur as you move from north to south.
The people of the north raise herds of cows and goats. Their milk is sometimes whipped into butter or aged into cheese. Almost everything edible is bathed in either cream or butter.
Here the pigs feast on chestnuts and in turn make good sausage. The pickles are fermented, and the kraut soured to nourishsturdy souls through long winter months.
Below this imaginary line, trees pervade. Hot ancient orchards dot the hillsides dripping with great bundles of green-black olives. They’re pressed into a nutty oil for the base of sauces and ragouts or a simple dip for crusty bread.
Tomatoes and vegetables of every size and elongation are bathed in this southern sun.
Every scaled and nautical beast is netted and fished from the sea.
Italy, Spain, Portugal, Morocco, Greece, and Cyprus all surround the Mediterranean Sea, these are the people who inspire the southern Mediterranean diet.
Google Peace Schnitzel
It comes right up on the first page.
Not on the second where it is said that dead bodies are buried.
I was forever young and hopeful when I wrote it.
Passionate about food and peace,
and of course, schnitzels.
So, I penned a piece for HuffPost called Peace Schnitzel. It’s there if you search.
You may ask why I should choose to reflect on the lowly onion. So pale and strong in its commonplace role in the kitchen. It marches forth into stews and soups alongside routine bedfellows of celery, carrot and spuds. We barely give onions a second thought as we shop and chop and cook. Yet, they were once of prominent importance and played a role in love and war and cuisines of the ages. Not always so mundane were these tender, translucent orbs of pungency.
New Zealand is a narrow spit of a nation consisting of two elongated islands that almost kiss in the middle. Once part of the massive Gondwanan supercontinent,it drifted away and nestled in the far southwest of the Pacific Ocean.
New Zealand then is the last landmass to be inhabited by humans. The Polynesians arrived by canoes a mere 1100 years ago and established the Maori culture. The Europeans arrived soon thereafter with vigor in the 17thCentury.
Both invasions brought enormous changes to the natural flora and fauna.
They both carried their culinary traditions and applied them to this new exotic landscape creating a gastronomic legacy found nowhere else on the planet. Continue reading