On the Move

JosieLee has been on the move...please excuse the absence!

Eataly - Roma

Eataly in Italy.

In Roma.

There are countless reasons to adore this railway-station-turned-food-emporium. Four floors of Italian delights have been drawing in tourists and locals alike ever since it opened a week ago. And I am told they have been streaming in the front door in droves every single evening.


The only way to get a few decent snaps of the offerings was to go during the Italy-Germany Euro Championship semi-final. It was empty. Loved it. It was essentially a private tour of food, books and maps. We strolled, marveled, and dreamed of the baskets-full of goodies that will be our future bounty. Now is just an evening reconnaissance.

Eataly is of course cornering the whole local aspect. With so many products made in-house - buffalo mozzarella, gelato, and it appears even some beers. Wine is sold by the liter straight from the barriques mounted on the wall. Nearly every food station displays maps of Italy with regional designations of the specific product type colourfuly delinieated.

One display is particularly useful, a calender wheel of seasonal veggies specific to the surrounding Lazio region. Speaking of veg, by the produce they have a cute box plot of salads and herbs by the window. This lead one Italian friend to comment, "these designers have been around. This is so not Italian." I am sure she is right. Considering the success of New York's Eataly, it is clear much has been learned and seems to be successfully applied. Hopefully it sticks around.

The space itself is really quite impressive. One friend from New York couldn't get over the size of this place. "The one in Manhattan is like one-eighteenth the size!"

There have been articles floating about for months now discussing the revitalization it hopes to bring to the

Ostiense area. The unused rail terminal has been compared to many nasty things, and it all comes down to it being an eyesore lurking over the horizon. A lot of PR has been put out by Eataly on how their previous locations have elevated struggling urban neighborhoods by setting up shop in brownfield sites. And a big injection of cash does make for a striking launch.

The first two floors house a range of food items, kitchen tools, books, and small snack areas. The third floor has some proper restaurants, and the fourth was a bit empty, as it contains rooms for cooking classes. Notices for culinary courses were in Italian, but I would imagine English language ones could be on offer in the future.

The open-plan style works quite well for the space, allowing visiters to wander freely about. It seems also a bit unique to have the kitchen/prep areas so open. Everything normally kept in the back of house is instead only seperated by panes of glass. Transparency of production ties in nicely with the local element being touted.

Eataly, we will be good friends.

On Lakes and Salads

The shoreline is filled with bodies of all shapes and sizes. A clang rings out as a metal folding table is unfolded and an electric hotplate is ritually placed atop. A mum and a granny start a big pot of water boiling for the coming pasta. A couple of toddlers proudly bear their birthday suits and rush into the water. The lake is much different than the beach. Families load up the car with enough equipment to spend all week at the shoreline. Yet they are here just for the day.



Lake Bracciano is just north of Rome. At first glance, it seems a bit rougher, almost like you can feel the cramped flats on the outskirts of the city from where the families left early that morning. Teenage girls sport undergarments in place of swimming suits. Boys shout from open doors of a camper van, while at their feet a dog lies panting. There are more bald spots here than at the beach. More bad tattoos. More bellies. The shore is covered in black pebbles that are much too hot to lie comfortably on. There is no gentle aroma of fried fish, or the view of perky bronzed cheeks.

Of course, the games people play are the same. The coquettish ball tosses in the water. The shrieking, the yelling, and finally a mum scolding. The leisurely way one's stomach finally decides it is hungry. This is what I know. Lake food. Upon deciding to head to the lake last weekend, my hands went into action. Slicing any available fruit, tossing in some basil, and letting sit in the freezer until departure.

Hours later, after a swim (in water that was quite clear for a lake), when the stomach started to plead, the fruit salad was revealed. An Italian friend: "You have salad? With basil? On fruit?" Oh no. Another sanctum Italian food custom has been breached. This happens all too often.

 

Basil or no basil (mmm...or sometimes mint), fruit salad at the lake is comforting. I feel like in Wisconsin again. Almost.

For another freeze-friendly picnic salad, see last week's Green Bean and Hazelnut Salad.

Continue to Recipe...

My Multi-Cultural Goulash

Another wee blog absence has gone by...the last few weeks have been filled to the brim with 'important things to do' and weekends that disappear in a flash.

One such weekend was spent back in Brno eating platefuls of dumplings and meat with my favourite 'granat' pivo to wash it all down.

I hadn't noticed how much I'd missed Czech food (despite years of moderately good-natured kvetching) until I arrived, and my hosts asked if I was hungry. I replied, nope, I had řízek (schnitzel) for lunch before the flight. In Italy? Up went the eyebrows...Ummm, yes, I confess, I made řízek for lunch in Italy. At least I didn't smash it between bread slices and bring it on the plane with me à la traditional-Czech-travel-snack.

And what should happen when I'm back in Rome, in my kitchen, staring at some choice pieces of beef stew meat I'd just picked up? Yes, goulash.

Yet this is not just any goulash. This is a trans-national goulash. Using a smoked Spanish paprika, marjoram in the Czech style, but served on polenta like in northern Italy. (Note: the American tradition of tossing in elbow macaroni will never taint a goulash from my kitchen - but anything else goes!)

Just like any goulash with strict country origins, it's quickly prepared, with a long simmer, and the flavour improves on the second day. Last year I fiddled with getting a traditional Czech recipe right and came up with this one. It was complete with homemade bread dumplings, which I must say that while polenta is a nice twist, nothing pairs with goulash like dumplings.

Some weekend, when I am truly Czech nostalgic, I will figure out a way to make one of the best street sweets on the planet - trdelník - a crispy yet soft tube of dough cooked on a hot iron and rolled in sugar, cinnamon, or nuts. When warm and fresh, it can't be beaten.



Continue to Recipe...

Romance in Rome?

Rome. Roma. Romance.

Place is often labeled as being romantic. Or not. There are lists every year of the most romantic cities. They are predictable for the most part. Major European cities, plus San Fransisco and/or New York, usually grace such lists. But what makes a city romantic?
 

Last year on Valentine's day, a great article by Kaid Benfield at the NRDC identified common elements found in the top four romantic cities - Rome, Paris, Venice, and Prague.

What are some of the features they have in common?

A connection to the past through strong historical preservation,

walkable centres,  

density,

well-developed public transport,

public spaces designed to actually serve social interaction,  

green spaces,
 
strong community in neighborhoods,

diversity

This year, journalists have upped the ante - screw romance, we want sex. Huffpost tried to make a case for Detroit's sexiness by laying out sexy city parameters. So what are they?

Energetic vitality, density (the bumping elbows, or other parts, with strangers type of density), wide range of choice, anonymity, and of course, beauty.



So Rome, how does it stack up? Sex or Romance?

Before answering, let's talk about Prague. Also a so-called romantic city. When meeting Roman locals and mentioning I recently moved down from the Czech Republic, there is a common reaction of a head-nod, and a murmured, "Ah, yes, Prague. Such a romantic city." At first, this threw me a bit, as Prague certainly has a romantic vibe, but still many people abroad often complain of the time they were ripped off in a taxi, or the authentic reenactment of socialism they got at the supermarket with the clerks. But the Romans, for the most part, focus on the romance.

The reason? By comparison, Prague has got the romance covered, and Rome the sex.

Rome is a sexy, sexy city. Perfect for sexing. It's hot most of the year, crowded, energetic, and breathtaking. Even the food is sexy. Light small portions sprinkled throughout the day leave one prepped for a good romp at any moment.

I suspect the locals know it. They know romance is in the back seat. That's why I get this "Ah, Prague, very romantic" comment at every introduction.

The thing that makes Rome the sexiest, is that it covers it up well with a romantic veneer. Every woman is called beautiful by a handful of men she comes into contact with daily, whether it be the young lads working reception at work, or the man tending the coffee bar. Roses are regularly spotted on the windshields of cars. And heart confetti adorned the pavement along the river one a cold January day.

By all appearances, romance exists in Rome in abundance. Don't be fooled. It simply covers up a much more primal dynamic effectively well.

Enjoy it, sway along with it, learn from it, mimic it, just don't fall for the romance of Roma. When you find yourself starting to fall (and despite warnings, you will), think of Cupid - from the Latin cupido, or desire. Remember, Cupid's arrows were sharp.

Happy Valentine's day from sexy-pants Rome!
- Jo

Balkan Ajvar {Roasted Red Pepper & Eggplant Spread}

The last of this years' gorgeous autumn days are behind us. Here in the Czech Republic the trees put on one heck of a show this year. Temperatures were warm, and the sun was golden. It went on for weeks and weeks and weeks. It was the kind of fall made for walking the dog and pondering this that and the other thing. My leaf-crunch addiction has certainly been satisfied for some time to come.

Not surprisingly, Saffi, my incredibly fearful Shiba Inu pup, turns out to also be terrified by the leaf-crunch. Well, I admit to being an avid cruncher and kicker-upper of fallen leaves, so I just might have contributed a wee bit. (Insert guilty feeling here.)

This morning there were early signs of frost on the window panes. While waiting for the tram, the wind blowing up the back of my skirt crossed the line into thigh-biting territory. And that nostalgic twinge is starting to settle in of another upcoming Thanksgiving spent abroad with no one to share in my turkey enthusiasm. The perks of this, though, are not to be pushed aside. Weekends in Vienna, Bratislava, or Prague easily keep me from throwing my own private pity party, to be sure.

While I've yet to make it down to any of the Balkan states (requires a bit more than a weekend I am told), I am familiar with a popular, and regionally widespread, roasted red pepper-eggplant dish called Ajvar. There's a great write up of Ajvar in Serbia over at the NPR website.

If you are looking for an exciting alternative to hummus to bring to the next bookclub meeting, or other cozy get-together, this could be good way to go.

Smoky flavours of home-roasted red peppers mashed together with roasted eggplant and garlic - with a dash of paprika - spread on some rustic bread and spritzed with lemon make for one great snack to share. Or even just a light dinner. The prep work is a bit arduous, to be honest, but if you make a bunch it will keep for 2-3 days, and is easily disappears anyways.

And since this is such a fantastically healthy snack, I may as well mention that this weekend I'll be doing a body detox. Cumin in the Cupboard readers will (hopefully) benefit next week by seeing what methods/recipes are created to make tasty veggie dishes sans salt/oil. Stay tuned!

Continue to Recipe... 

Sicilian Pasta {with Fennel, Sardines, and Saffron}

I had been tasting Sicily for years. It was salty and sweet. Simple and filling. Exotic, yet comforting. Lemony. Briney. Earthy. Sea-y. 

 Years before ever visiting the island below the boot, I was bumbling through Europe with my rucksack and met a Sicilian traveler in Dublin. I twisted his arm (read: offered to pay for dinner fixings) until he agreed to show me how to make a Sicilian national dish. Despite being a cheeky young thing, this guy knew his way around a kitchen. The result was, of course, sensational.

Very few dishes stand the test of time with me. This is one of them. I picked up a little cookbook in Sicily when I went there as the final destination of the mum-and-daughter trip (Vienna-Rome-Sicily.) The book has a simplified version of this, titled, "Bucatini Pasta with Sardines Left in the Sea." I can't really work out how, if you leave the sardines in the sea, they can get into the pasta. But they do, and in just the right amount. If you're a bit fickle around tiny tinned fish, do not fear this dish. The flavours do sound a bit, well, odd together (especially if you are one of those anti-raisin folks.) Yet it's passed the taste test on a variety of my impromptu dinning companions. It's a great last minute hit. Of course, that is, if you are like me and regularly keep bits like saffron and fennel seeds in the cupboard. 

On the way home from work, pop into a shop, grab yourself a nice big bulb of fresh fennel, a bottle of a dry white, and you are on your way to something special (especially if there is some lemoncello in your booze-cupboard, just waiting for this dish to be made so it can be your perfect dessert wine.) I swear, Sicilian lemons are what dreams are made of. They permeate nearly every dish to add just the perfect amount of brightness on the palate.

 
Last month, we spent an idyllic few days exploring just the northwestern part of the island. Here, the food displays prominent Arabic influences: saffron, raisins, pine nuts, couscous, and citrus (oh, those blood oranges!) Why, even looking over the city rooftops, I had a sudden feeling of Déja Vu, and felt I'd been whisked away back to Morocco. Given that I'm a sucker for North African cuisine, my stomach dictated we stick to the western part. Towards the East, I've heard the food has a significant Greek flair to it. Olives, capers, and pistachios are to be found. Luckily, the sweetened-ricotta stuffed cannoli and a vast terrain of gelatos and granitas can be discovered all over Sicily.



The city of Marsala makes and excellent base for exploring the northwest - good food, hiking, snorkeling, and best of all...people! We met some of the most welcoming people in this area. At the guesthouse Arkos Casa Vacanze, a small but stunning oasis of hospitality and vegetation, I ate. I mean, I ate like it was going out of style. 'Mamma Maria' cooked up amazing dinners for the guests, and her son Gregorio had such enthusiasm for the gardens he's developed. I could have had a full meal just grazing in that garden! Pictured above is their pasta with an almond-basil pesto. And next to it is the Sicilian oregano variety. It is the coolest little plant ever!

Sicily left me nourished, in so many ways. I hope this dish can provide some semblance of nourishment to others. There is such a unique and delicate balance of flavours, and it is so easy (and wallet-friendly) to make. The sardine flavour is lifted by the fennel and lemon. The raisins bring a bit of tangy sweetness, brought to earth by the saffron. Be sure to use a dry white wine, as a sweeter one would not work at all. 

(Note: If you cut the recipe in half, a great use of the other half of the sardine tin is a home-made Ceasar salad dressing for lunch later that week.)

And if you haven't already, throw some Paolo Conte on your grooveshark/pandora/whatever and you've got the perfect Italian cooking music.

Continue to Recipe...

Eating 'alla Romana' {Carciofi, Fettuccine, & Saltimbocca}

As promised, the second stop of the mother-n-daughter holiday has arrived: Rome. After eating our way through the Naschmarkt in Vienna, we headed south to check out what Italy had on offer.

A total of three days were spent in Rome (pictures are here). That's just enough time to take in the major sights and get a feel for the pulse of the city, which author Fred Plotkin describes as an "erotic charge in the air...It could almost be called a romantic imperative." And after those three days (or more specifically, the nights) I can confirm that he just may have it pegged correctly.

Antipasti
My mum's guidebook promised us the best artichokes are to be found in Rome. Wading through one tourist restaurant menu after another, we sampled many dishes. One place (I wish I'd jotted down their name) had the artichokes we were after. Fresh Italian carciofi with hints of lemon, garlic, mint, and parsley, are gently simmered in white wine and served with soft bread for sopping up the juices.

To recreate these Carciofi alla Romana at home, the herbs are easily procured, but the artichokes are not. In the recipe given below, canned artichoke hearts are used, which in no way compare, but do prove to be a quick an easy starter for any meal...and are just nice enough to serve to guests as well.

Towards the end of our stay, my mum and I ended up in a bookstore (or two...hardly surprising to anyone who knows us.) I picked up a great foodie find: Italy for the Gourmet Traveller by Fred Plotkin. Published just last year, this guide covers nearly every aspect of food in each Italian region. Not only are traditional dishes of each region described, but it also lists practical places - food shops, food bookstores, food festivals, and on and on. A recipe or two is given for each region, but I find the real value to be in the stories behind the dishes the author recounts from his experience (he gives are pretty good version of the Est! Est! Est! wine name origin.)

Primi
One of the dishes listed in my new foodie book, although not one we sampled, sounded pretty good to me this week. Fettuccine alla Romana: pasta with prosciutto, tomatoes, Marsala, and porcini mushrooms. It's traditionally made with chicken giblets (detest!), which I simply omitted and didn't find the resulting dish lacking in flavour whatsoever.

Secondi
I've been eating a lot of quick dinners of pan-fried chicken breast topped with prosciutto lately, so when I came across Saltimbocca alla Romana for the first time it instantly appealed. Pork cutlets topped with sage and prosciutto. Simple, yet succulent. Even those with a stated aversion towards pork (and I know there are many of you) will find this style of preparing it to be pleasing, what with the added juiciness given by the prosciutto. And any excuse to enjoy fresh sage in the autumn is welcome by me!


These dishes were easily made together for a Sunday lunch in just over an hour. The flavours really balance well together, as all are 'alla Romana'.

Buon apetito!

Continue to Recipe...

We Are Broken, but Back! {And with Viennese Cake: Sachertorte}

It has certainly been some time. Why, all of September and half of October flew by since the last post. And when I finally did check in, my whole blog was broken!!! Well, the pictures at least.

It turns out if one fiddles with the 'Blogger' pictures in Picasa web albums, it affects the pictures on the actual blog as well. This is news to me. So please be patient as I slowly restore the pictures that have gone missing. I must admit, part of me has been cowering under virtual blankets afraid to look at the wreckage of the the big black gaping holes (with very threatening symbols no less) where my photos used to sit. Those angry exclamation points and triangles were just too much to bear.

Sachertorte from my kitchen. Bulbous, but scrumptious.

And of course I've been busy as well. That's how life works. September in the world of a teacher is absolutely...well, one can imagine. Rather than come back with apologies though, I think it much more foodbloggish to come back with cake! Viennese Sachertorte: the original, and the one from my kitchen.

In the middle of the September new-class chaos, I also took a holiday with my mum. She flew out from Wisconsin, and since she's visited Czech Republic before, we decided to check out some other places. Since Vienna is adored by both of us, we started with a couple days there staying smack-dab next to the outdoor food market - the Naschmarkt.

But back to the cake. Sachertorte is a Viennese legend. It originated in the Hotel Sacher over 175 years ago, and versions of it are sold in cafes across Europe. The original can only be had in Vienna, and I believe also their hotel in Salzburg. In the past, I've always arrived at Hotel Sacher's Café during their busy time. Morning, mid-day, evening, it's always been packed with people. But this time, we tried a late evening approach - ten or elevinish. Seats were procured and cake was had.

And I don't know if it's the elegant 'S' icon on every pane of glass in the cafe, or the Sacher Hotel chocolate seal atop each slice of cake, but it just tasted better than any other Sachertorte I've ever had. And there have been many.

Compared to American cakes, the sweetness of Sachertorte is quite understated. Yet the smooth chocolate icing and the apricot glaze between the layers gave it the sugar edge my taste buds badly craved. Then again, to balance that out, the whipped cream served along side was also unsweetened. But then, the mug of Hot Sacher Chocolate I ordered tipped the sweet scale over again. It seems to me that Sachertorte has held onto it's popular position in Central Europe for so long precisely for this sweetness balance.

THE Original Sacher-Torte

After having had the real thing, it dawned on me that someday I might move away and not be within driving distance of Vienna, and more importantly, of its cakes. I had better learn to create some semblance of flavours and textures that mimic the original. I read up a bit and decided the recipe from Kaffehaus: Exquisite Desserts from the Classic Cafés of Vienna, Budapest, and Prague as found on Epicurious would do the trick. I read the reviews and followed the recipe, only baked it at a lower temperature (350°) for 45-50 minutes (rather than 400° for 35 minutes, as other reviews had suggested.)

The result is pictured at the top of the post. Not nearly as elegant as the Sacher Original. And to be honest, this was my second attempt. (The first turned into the biggest cake disaster I've ever lived through. Entire thing went to the trash. It was completely my mistake. When beating the egg whites and sugar together I used a wooden bowl, rather than glass, and those whites would not turn into anything resembling firm peaks!)

The cake bakes up with quite a domed arch shape. Since the whole thing should be sliced in half, the top should be sliced evenly flat too. And cutting off those excess top bits should give you enough for a hearty taste-test as well.

The apricot glaze is just lovely, and it pays to brush it onto the cake layer with a big rubber pastry brush, slowly, so it can sink in to the cake. Oh, and somehow my version ended up receiving chopped toasted almonds on top - not usual on a Sachertorte. But almonds suited the chocolate and apricot/rum glaze, and what's more, I really didn't find the glaze visually appealing. It turned out a bit too thin. It might be worth experimenting with a different chocolate glaze than the one in the recipe, which is perhaps too basic.

While it's a bit of a do-ahead cake (best to bake the night before, to be glazed/assembled the next day) it doesn't keep very long. Even well-covered in the fridge it seemed to dry out quickly. It's a great cake to share. Although, come to think of it, every cake is theoretically made for sharing. But the drying-out concern makes this one particularly destined for sharing, and not guilting it's way onto your plate for days on end.
Disclaimer: I may have too-much-cake-in-the-kitchen trauma.

Vienna Tips

(For a very nice Vienna write-up, check out post from earlier this year at What's for Lunch Honey?)

St. Stephan's Cathedral

A great, great, great place to stay is right next to the Naschmarkt at Wombat's City Hostel. It's newly built with private rooms as well as dorms. Very nice and clean kitchen facilities...makes eating straight from the market so easy!


If cooking for yourself is not appealing on holiday, there are plenty of cute cafés tucked between the rows of veg at the market. And for a sweet fix while walking, duck into the Schoko Company shop (in the middle of the market area) for a wide selection of über-creative chocolate creations, especially ones by my fave Austrian producer, Zotter.

Beyond the Naschmarkt are plenty of museums and other attractions depending on one's interests. Yet, one place absolutely anyone can find worth visiting is Prater (Wurstelprater) - the amusement park.

Firstly developed in the late 1800s and reconstructed after the war, Prater is the amusement park with atmosphere. Classic rides, games, and nostalgic images abound...go at night and you won't be disappointed!

A few more Vienna pictures can be found in this Picasa web album.

Next food stop on the mum-n-daughter holiday: Rome. Psst...there will be artichokes!

Dobrou Chut'/ Enjoy.
-- Jo