Friday, September 10, 2010

vacation hold


Running off to do some work in NY for 2 weeks with Lindsay Olives as well as teach at deGustibus, Kings and Institute of Culinary Education. Of course, I'll find time to see friends, visit my stepdaughter who just started college at The New School and eat at a few spots, Maialino, Locanda Verde, Co and Convivio.

Home for 36 hours and then off again, this time to Europe for my cooking classes in Provence at Blanche Fleur and in Tuscany at Il Leccio. I have lots of friends in my classes as well as my sister, so it should be very fun. Plus I get to see my best friend in Europe, my assistant, Carla.

And to think... I call this work!

Needless to say, I'm putting my blog on vacation hold until I return mid-October. If you want to follow my travels, you can do so on facebook. I'll keep you posted.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

addiction, part 2


I ate the whole bowl! Do I think you should run out to buy an ActiFry? Read this post first before you do that.

Here's the deal. I had one huge russet potato in my house. I read the directions start to finish. I did just what the direction said. Sort of...

I cut the potatoes into uniform 1/2-inch sticks. The instructions advised not to leave any sharp points as the points will get too crispy. What's wrong with that, I thought? I left points.

I put the potatoes in a bowl of cold water to wash away the excess starch and dried them well. I dried the bowl and put the potatoes back in the bowl along with a few spices, herbs, salt and 1/2 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil. I tossed everything together and placed them in the basket of the ActiFry along with the remaining 1/2 tablespoon olive oil. I almost forgot to set the timer for 35 minutes.

As I cleaned up the kitchen, I couldn't help but go back again and again to watch the potatoes through the clear lid as they turned in the machine. At the first sight of "golden" I started to get excited.

When the timer buzzed, I was right there. I couldn't wait... I put one crispy, HOT, spicy hot potato into my mouth ever so gingerly.

Were they French fries? Nope, not as we know them. How could they be? Don't get me wrong, they weren't French fries but they were tasty.

As I downed the last couple "fries" at the bottom of the bowl, I couldn't help but think of what Julia Child once said... "Let's just admit it, fat tastes good."

Spicy Garlic "Fries"

1 1/2 pound russet potatoes, unpeeled
8 garlic cloves, peeled, halved
3/4 teaspoon Kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon pimenton
1/4 teaspoon chili powder
1/8 teaspoon cayenne
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

Wash the potatoes well and cut into 1/2-inch uniform sticks. Place in a bowl and cover with water. Drain and pat the potatoes with towels until dry.

Place the potatoes, garlic, salt, cumin, pimenton, chili powder, cayenne, oregano and 1/2 tablespoon olive oil in a bowl. Toss to coat the potatoes.

Place the potatoes into the ActiFry pan and drizzle evenly with the remaining 1/2 teaspoon olive oil. Cook for 35 minutes or until the fries are crisp and the garlic is deep golden brown.

Eat immediately.

Serves 2

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

addiction


I'm being blatantly honest... I am so obsessed with potato chips that I can't even buy a bag. If I was to perform such a blasphemous act, those damn potato chips would be calling my name all day long as I peck away on my computer or cook at the stove. I can't even have them in the house.

This past weekend Joe "surprised" me and bought a bag of Kettle One "baked" potato chips dusted with sea salt. I can't even talk about it knowing that there are still a few crumbs at the bottom of the bag sitting in the trash. I obsessed about that bag of chips that screamed my name until they were gone. I know I have a problem.... It's my weakness, my downfall!

I'm now on a potato kick! (I have Joe to thank for this.) A few months ago, Tefal sent one of those Actifry machines from France. You've heard of them. Supposedly you can fry a whole batch of french fries with one tablespoon of oil. Yes, I repeat, ONE tablespoon of oil.

I'm going to try it out right now.... I'll let you know...

Friday, August 27, 2010

ah-ha moment


Early morning, as the ferry pulled away from the pier in Larkspur, I got out my notes. I knew I had little time to get my message across, maybe 35 minutes, before we’d disembark at the port of San Francisco. We were about to spend a day together on an adult field trip at the San Francisco Ferry Building Marketplace.

In a quiet whisper, so as not to disturb the commuters, I began telling a little about myself and giving a rough idea of the day ahead.

“This is an abbreviated version of what I do in Tuscany, Provence and the Rioja with my students. We visit cheese makers, winemakers and olive oil producers... We eat great lunches and drink fantastic wines. But it seems when my students are in Italy or Spain or someplace away from “home,” their perceptions are so much keener and they value the experiences more. Why is that?”

I continued, “Have we gotten so busy with our daily lives and crossing things off the list that we don’t stop to notice what’s right in front of us?”

“Today, I want you to notice the little things. Really use your senses... Maybe one of you will notice the sounds of busy foot traffic at lunch time, or someone else might be struck by the colors of the bay as we cruise towards San Francisco. Perhaps someone else will love the peppery, green taste of olive oil at McEvoy Ranch or the spicy hot fish tacos we’ll have for lunch at Majita. And I know many of you have tasted cow's milk cheese from Cowgirl Creamery, but have you stopped and taken a moment to smell the pungent aromas of the all the different cheeses there? I know for me, I'm looking forward to heading straight to Boulette's Larder for the best rich, creamy hot chocolate."

I was surrounded by seven eager food writers and bloggers who were part of the Book Passage Travel Writers & Photographers Conference. As the ferry pulled into the dock, I could tell, they were with me, they got what I was saying. And we had a whole day to explore it together.

I gave them a choice, they could write down their perceptions or keep them in their head. But most importantly, what I wanted to know at the end of the day was what was the inspiration for their ah-ha moment. It could be a thought, a paragraph or a page. I loved them all... And here's what they shared.

______________________________________________________________________
It was a surprisingly difficult decision: deplete my savings by another large-ish chunk and join the Joanne Weir-led group to the Ferry Building, or consider the cost of the Book Passage Travel (and Food!) Conference investment enough. I've been to the Ferry Building so many times, dashing through on lunch hour errands, grabbing a quick sample or making a fast purchase on the way, so why this trip? I decided to take the leap and anticipated a great day.

Our small band of committed foodies spent a glorious day of exploration and discovery, guided by an enthusiastic and charming Joanne. We tasted so many fantastic products; it was real treat was to hear directly from producers, owners, and vendors.
What I hadn't anticipated was the sense of renewal and joy I came away with. Taking the time to slow down, to sniff and savor instead of scrambling around tourists, worrying about getting back to work - that was refreshing! Taking the time to enjoy being a tourist at home with a group of interesting & like-minded people - the shared joy will be remembered and recounted. And to reconnect with the core notion that preparing food is an act of love - always to be held dear.

Mary Beth Brown
mbbrownsf@yahoo.com


At the prodding of a friend who lovingly said, "I'll kick your butt if you don't do this," here I am, crossing the bay on a ferry, revisiting the highlights of an absolutely amazing day. Assigned with the task of sharing an aha moment after touring the Ferry Building Marketplace with Joanne and my fellow foodies, I found it difficult to focus on any one thing due to so many stimulating sights, sounds and aromas. I have been to the marketplace many times before, but never with an assignment. Fortunately, my revelation finally came while listening to Peggy Smith of Cowgirl Creamery speak on the art of cheese making and tasting. I love cheese probably more than any other food on earth, which is actually rather funny – I am allergic to dairy. But, I eat cheese anyway. It is my candy.

I was fixated on Peggy's every word and eagerly gobbled up her samples. What I was the most surprised to hear, however, was that the Mt. Tam Triple Cream Brie actually tastes different with each season. Also interesting to note was that within each herd a lead cow intuitively selects a different pasture each day for the other cows to eat from. This, too, has an effect on the flavor of the cheese. I'm probably a lot like a cow. I don't want to eat the same things every day. I want variety, and I want to check out the other pastures. So, yes, the grass is greener (and sometimes browner) on the other side of the fence, especially when it comes to the world of cheese.

Sharon Landon
subscribe@landoncreative
.com



It was a morning for the senses. A sensation overload nearly. Drab and overcast outside, we stepped into the cacophony of Boulette’s Larder and wham. We were hit with the clatter of cups and saucers echoing off slick concrete floors and high hard ceilings.

And the smells. Garlic. Spices of cinnamon and pepper. Baking bread. All mingling, warm and heavy. And the larder itself, richly stocked: black rice, fried quail, marrow bones and black eyed peas.

And we.....a motley crew of food lovers led by this ebullient character, this ginger haired Mr. Rogers, so obviously in love with her craft and grateful to share her joy with us. Then, as if to bring me back into my body, someone handed me a tiny glass of hot chocolate with a delicate froth on top. We were here to taste after all.

I sipped. I gasped.

The first swallow hit me with such overwhelming pleasure. It was silken sweetness. It was warm grandmother moments. It was hot chocolate and marshmallows in the snow and yet sophisticated like in a European café.

This was just the beginning. This was just a taste.

“If we all drink a full one of those,” said our cheerful leader. Motioning to the tray of the fanciful chocolate saucers. “It will be..........blast off!”

That’s exactly where we were headed.

Alison Pierce VanDis
Pierce.alison@gmail.com



Sailing from Larkspur on a cool summer day, I was excited to be embarking upon what promised to be a passport free adventure for the tongue, eyes, nose, hands, and ears. When my eyes fixed upon the medium brown glass of hot chocolate, I knew that I was seeing what would be close to heaven in a cup. The Eastern European Hot Chocolate served as more than an eye opener, as noted on my itinerary for the day. As the delicious texture of the hot liquid floated from the front of my lips to the back of my tongue, I think I saw the thick clouds hanging over the Ferry Building part momentarily confirming that I was indeed having something poured straight from heaven. Moving toward the various shades of greens and browns of the Petaluma olives and extra virgin olive oil, my eyes danced with delight as I sampled the fresh fruit of the olives and the cut grass taste of the organic olive oils.

With my tongue and eyes fully engaged, I traveled onward following my nose to the cheeses of Point Reyes. Standing with reverence at the specially prepared cheese cart that held my favorite Red Hawk, Pierce PT, MT Tam, and St. Pat Classic cheese, I listened and tried my best to inhale every word that Peggy Smith, The Grand Madam of Cheese, spoke. Lost in my cheese tasting journey, I had no desire to be found unless it was with several Cowgirl Creamery wagon wheels tucked under my arms.

I say with my arms because the next stop of my Joanne Weir led adventure would land me at Cocina Mexican or Mijita where my hands would hold the taco de carne asada, the taco de carnitas, and eventually, the taco de pescado “Baja.” My other hand would hold onto the most delicious margarita that was near perfectly prepared, which could have been a standalone course for this writer. The feel of the soft corn tortilla and the ice cold cocktail glass would provide me with that transformative moment that one gets while taking a journey, an adventure, or travelling to someplace new. My day with Joanne Weir was something new, something treasured, something very special. She provided me with a great day filled with new and exciting experiences for all of my senses.

As the adventure came to a regretful end, the sounds of the white wine and the red wine filling the sparkling wine glasses were music to my ears. Being so caught up in the lyrical sounds of wine from a bottle meeting the wine glasses, it mattered not that I did no writing down of the names of the wines sampled. As I enjoyed every sip of my grapes from afar, I knew that all the notes in the world would not do justice to this day of adventure at the Ferry Building in San Francisco with Joanne Weir.
Melody Fuller




It’s the middle of the week. A grey, drab, foggy sort of morning on the bay. Tourists, commuters, chefs and foodies fill the grand hall of The Ferry Plaza Marketplace. The pitter-patter of feet and swishing of canvas market bags is passing me by. Herb Caen once boasted, “A famous city’s most famous landmark.”

We had arrived. The pungent aroma swirled around us. It entered my senses like liquid. In through my nose and out through my limbs. I could taste the cheese in the air. Heaps and piles of cheese. From this world and the next – our backyard and beyond. The ripeness of these artisanal delicacies was pungent and bold. Evident they had been made by hand, with care and devotion.

Could this be true? We were going to be led through a tasting by none other than the acclaimed Peggy Smith. Peggy to me is one of the matriarchs – a patron saint – of Northern Californian farmstead cheese. Out came a handcart of some of her best work – Mt. Tam, St. Pats, Pierce Point, Red Hawk, and Fromage Blanc. Of the many times I have visited Cowgirl Creamery’s original location at Tomales Bay Foods Company in Point Reyes Station I have never had the opportunity to meet the mother of the cheese. Most women my age hope to catch a glimpse of Angelina Jolie, Jennifer Aniston or even the great Meryl Streep. That day – I felt I was experiencing a true star sighting.

I’m certain I cannot recount the story in the same tone or manner in which Peggy did so I hope you too can one day taste the cheeses of Tomales Bay through the words and from the hands of Peggy Smith. For Peggy, good cheese starts with good milk. And good milk comes from straight from the dairy.

Brooke Gray
brooke@thecountryroots.com
PHOTO BY BROOKE GRAY


I often wonder about people who just don’t seem to understand food. They eat whatever, and never seem to appreciate ‘better’ food. Why go to a small hole in the wall shop, when McDonald’s will do just fine. In contrast, I seem to be constantly seeking out the latest artisan creation. I ask questions, and am eager to learn more about food.

After this last Wednesday, where I was able to spend the day with Joanne and seven other foodies, I realize one of those things is thankfulness. I respect, and am thankful for, the people and labor that goes into making great quality food. It is not lost on me, and I take note when someone puts in that extra attention to make a great guacamole, olive oil, cheese, salami, hot chocolate, wine, honey… and the list goes on. I noticed that this was a common appearance in each of my travelers that day, including Joanne.
I am thankful for people like Joanne and other foodies who take joy in sharing their knowledge and experience without holding back. They labor out of love for their craft, never forgetting that they are making a product – not placed on a shelf in the living room – but to be eaten; placed inside our most precious possession, our bodies. The next time you are about to mindlessly consume some mediocre lunch, ask yourself, are you really thankful for the life you have? Do you take the time to appreciate the hard work and dedication of people who labor each day to provide quality products and instruction to you? Take the time to know what you eat and who is making it. I promise, you will find yourself a happier and more thankful person.
Timothy Snead
Tps777@yahoo.com



McEvoy was easily my favorite of the tasting spots we visited. This is not counting Mijita, where we had lunch. At McEvoy we learned about how the olives are grown and processed into olive oil. We each held a tiny cup of the olive oil in our palm and smelled it, then downed it like a shot. It felt and tasted surprisingly light. It tasted warm and grassy, with an almost spicy hotness on the back of the tongue. Our host told us of the history of the ranch and the high standards of quality and purity. We tasted their olive blend, which in my sample cup included one larger and two tiny olives, bathing in olive oil and herbs. The larger olive was mostly pit with little flesh, and tasted slightly like kalamata. The two tiny ones were fleshier and had a pleasant, candy-like sweetness. I'm not sure of the names of the olives, and they weren't either. It's a blend of various olives they grow. Then we tasted their limited edition olive oil drizzled on bread with fromage blanc (from Cowgirl Creamery) and flowering oregano (see photo). This was amazing and the flower buds of the fruiting oregano reminded me of capers, only fresher and lighter. This was a truly blissful tasting experience.

We also got to try McEvoy's hand lotion. The crushed olives leftover after the olive oil processing are used in their many body care products. They also carry honeys, jams, and things like lemon curd and cinnamon apple butter. On Wednesdays, they have an organic produce market at lunchtime. I bought a bunch of rainbow baby carrots and a bubble gum apple (pink on the inside) for my kids, and a jar of cinnamon apple butter for my parents. I will be making many repeat visits to this little shop. I will be asking my husband, who works near the Ferry Building, to pick up greens or other produce on some Wednesdays, because it doesn't get any fresher. The ranch itself is in Petaluma, very close to where I live. I will make a visit there as well, hopefully for one of their tours.

Lori Sanders
lorimelanie@gmail.com

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

an italian grilled cheese sandwich

Who doesn't love grilled cheese sandwiches? After all, they're about as American as apple pie.

But how would the Italians make them?

Imagine creamy cow's milk taleggio or stracchino cheese sandwiched between layers of crispy, hot pizza dough baked to golden perfection on a pizza stone. That's my version of an Italian grilled cheese sandwich! Nothin' like what Mama used to make.


I was first introduced to a luscious focaccia al formaggio at Manuelina in Recco along the Ligurian coastline. That was years ago, probably my first trip to Liguria. I traveled to Recco just to taste this Italian Riviera masterpiece and it was worth every single calorie, every single kilometer.

I decided I liked the concept which prompted me to write my own recipe for flatbread with gooey cheese all melted inside. This is what I came up with!

Grab a glass of Barbera from neighboring Piedmonte and enjoy!


FOCACCIA WITH CREAMY TALEGGIO

2 teaspoons active dry yeast
1/4 cup (2 fl oz/60ml) plus 1 cup (8 fl oz/240ml) warm (110°f/43°c) water
3 tablespoons (1 1/2 fl oz/45ml) extra-virgin olive oil
3 cups (12 oz/350g) unbleached bread flour
Salt
12 ounces (350g) taleggio or stracchino cheese, coarsely grated
1/3 cup (1 1/2 oz/45g) finely grated aged pecorino cheese

Whisk together the yeast and 1/4 cup (2 fl oz/60ml) water and let sit until creamy, about 20 minutes. Add the remaining 1 cup (8 fl oz/240ml) water, the olive oil, flour, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Knead on a lightly floured surface until smooth and soft, 7 to 8 minutes. Place in a well-oiled bowl and turn the dough over to coat the dough. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise in a warm place (75°f/24°c) until it doubles in volume, about 1 1/2 hours.

Place a pizza stone or tiles on the bottom shelf of the oven. Heat the oven to 500°f (260°c) for at least 30 minutes.

Divide the dough into 4 pieces and form each piece into a round ball. On a well-floured surface, roll 1 piece of dough at a time into a 9-inch (23-cm) circle, 1/8-inch (0.3cm) thick. Transfer 1 piece to a well-floured pizza peel or paddle. In a bowl mix together the taleggio and pecorino. Spread one-third of the cheese mixture on the dough, leaving a 1-inch border. Brush the edges of the dough lightly with water. Roll another ball to the same size and place on top. Crimp the edges to seal well. Pinch a hole in the second piece of dough in the center.

Bake the focaccia on the hot stone until light golden and crisp, 8 to 11 minutes. Repeat with the remaining dough and cheese filling, making 1 more focaccia. Serve immediately.

Makes 2 focaccie and serves 10

Friday, August 6, 2010

mexican penicillin


In Napa last weekend celebrating my birthday. Stopped by and visited Brian and Claudia at Fleury for a fantastic tasting of their new SB and '07 BDX. By the time we were done, we were so hungry. Where to go? And then I remembered that Joe Yonan told me about LaLuna Market & Taqueria for what he said were "the best tacos."

“How long has it been there?” I asked him.

“Years, I think! You don’t know about it?” he asked. It was kind of surprising. After all, Joe lives in Washington, DC and this is my neck of the woods.

It was now 2:00 PM Saturday afternoon. I was well past hungry, and the taco lover that I am, I was definitely up for a spicy pork taco. There on a side street in “downtown” Rutherford was this non-distinct Mexican grocery store, La Luna. I’d probably driven past this place a thousand times.

As we walked inside, I was transported to Guadalajara. Mexican music was serenading the cute girls behind the counter who were talking Spanish, laughing and chewing gum. It didn’t look like a taco joint at all but I followed my nose past the Arbor Mist, Red Bull and bars of Palmolive to the back of the store. There I found the counter filled with crispy hot tortilla chips, a menu on the wall and a couple guys cranking out tacos and burritos.

We had a few minutes from the time we placed our order so I wandered the aisles. I came across spices that were so aromatic; I couldn’t help but picking up a few, -- California chili, New Mexico chili, pasilla chili and ancho chili. A few minutes later, we found ourselves eating al pastor and carnitas tacos out on a picnic table. What the surroundings lacked in atmosphere, the tacos made up for in deliciousness!

For the next couple days I obsessed about those spices I’d gotten. They were on my kitchen counter and every time I walked past them, they called my name.

By Tuesday, I felt a little under the weather. Kind of a scratchy throat and my head felt like it weighed about a thousand pounds. I needed some penicillin, Mexican penicillin, so I made a huge pot of chicken tortilla soup. And guess what spices gave the best flavor to the broth….

CHICKEN TORTILLA SOUP

1 large yellow onion, diced
1 large carrot, peeled and diced
1 stalk celery, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 large ripe tomatoes, peeled, seeded and chopped
1 whole chicken, 3 ½ pounds, cut into 6 pieces
Cilantro
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon California chili
1/2 teaspoon pasilla chili
1/2 teaspoon ancho chili
1/4 teaspoon New Mexico chili
¼ teaspoon pimenton or smoked paprika
¼ teaspoon dried oregano
2 bay leaves
½ jalapeno, halved and seeded
Corn oil for frying the tortillas
8 corn tortillas, cut into 1/4" strips
½ pound green beans, ends removed and cut into 1-inch pieces
2 large carrots, peeled and cut into ½-inch dice
2 ears of corn, husked and kernels removed
3 zucchini, about ½ pound, cut into ½-inch dice
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
4 ounces sharp cheddar, coarsely grated
1 large avocado, diced

Place the onions, carrots, celery, garlic, tomatoes, chicken, 6 whole sprigs cilantro, cumin, chili, pimenton, oregano, bay leaves, jalapeno and 10 to 12 cups water in a large soup pot. Bring to a boil, reduce to low and simmer, uncovered, until the chicken is very tender, 1 to 1 ¼ hours.

Heat ½" corn oil in a deep heavy pan to 375F. Add the tortilla strips and cook until crispy, 1 minute. Remove from the pan and drain on paper towels.

Remove the chicken and let cool. Strain the remaining liquid and discard the solids. Place the stock back in the soup pot. Add the green beans and carrots and cook until almost tender, 5 minutes.

Remove the meat from the bones and discard the bones. Tear the chicken into 1-inch pieces and return the chicken to the pot along with the corn and zucchini. Simmer for 5 minutes.

To serve the soup, heat the soup until hot. Ladle into bowls and garnish with cheddar and avocado. Top with tortillas strips and cilantro leaves.

Serves 6

Thursday, July 29, 2010

trip around the mediterranean


I stopped by Wayfare Tavern the other night to give Tyler a phone number he'd asked me for. He wasn't there but Alan, the manager, came by to say hi.

"Aren't you going on a huge trip leaving Monday?" Alan asked.

I had to wrack my brain. When you travel as much as I do, you take things one day at a time. Monday didn't ring a bell. "No, I don't think so, not this Monday," I said.

"Yes, I read it on your website. Aren't you going on a trip around the Mediterranean?" Alan asked.

"Oh," I smiled as it finally dawned on me, "Yeah, I'm going on a
trip around the Mediterranean right here in my San Francisco kitchen."

That was last Monday. I did a
weeklong cooking class and on the calendar on my website it listed my week as "A Trip Around the Mediterranean."

Imagine... Monday we were walking through the Provencal markets buying lavender sachets and colorful linens, Tuesday we were in Italy picking olives and figs, and by Wednesday, we were were swimming in the crystal clear blue waters off the coast of Greece. Thursday, we were eating tapas at
Cal Pep in Barcelona and on Friday, we were buying spices and preserved lemons in the souks or markets of Marrakesh.

Eight students from all over the US, two assistants, one dishwasher and one teacher "cruising" the Mediterranean together.

Ten o'clock each morning, we started in the kitchen with warm muffins or scones. I think the favorite breakfast were the raspberry and almond muffins, a recipe that I got when I used to taste for Alice at Cafe Fanny. Or was it the millet muffins from the same source?
MILLET MUFFINS

1 egg
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/3 cup (80 g) melted butter
12 tablespoons millet
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk

Preheat an oven to 375oF (190oC). Beat the egg and brown sugar well with an electric mixer. Add the melted butter and 1/2 of the buttermilk. Stir in the millet. Sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt together and add to the other ingredients. Add the other 1/2 of the buttermilk. Do not mix the muffins together too much or the texture will not be good! Place in greased muffin tins.

Bake in the oven for 20 minutes.

Makes 12 muffins.


And then I'd talk about the cuisine from that particular country and explain the recipes. After dividing into groups, we cooked for the next couple hours together. I dug through my library of music to find the right music from my many trips to the Mediterranean. The students seemed to like Zucchero a lot. Or was it Emma Shappin?

Monday, when we were in Provence, we tasted warm olives scented with wild herbs and drank Provencal rosé. That was just the beginning. We made pissaladiere with crispy golden puffed pastry and lots of caramelized onions. Bouillabaisse was next and for dessert,
little lemon souffle cakes that were sweet and tart at the same time.

The next day, we packed our bags and left for Italy. I insisted on starting with spritzers made with Aperol and prosecco (the same drink we served our guests when they arrived for our wedding last August). We rolled bright green spinach ravioli and filled them with ricotta and mascarpone and topped them with a sauce of fresh heirloom tomatoes and really tender leaves of basil. And then we made this really cool main course where we wrapped a baguette around pork tenderloin dusted with fennel pollen, sage, rosemary, coarse salt and lots of black pepper like they do in Tuscany. My favorite Florentine cook, Judy, introduced this to me years ago when I was teaching one of my courses st Il Leccio in Strada in Chianti.

If that wasn't the favorite of the day, it must have been the caramelized chocolate almond budino for dessert. OMG!!!

And what's food without wine, especially when you're on vacation along the Mediterranean? Everyday we have a wine maker or importer come to pour their wine and talk about the wines from that particular country.

By mid-week, it was time to fire things up so we built a really hot fire in the fireplace in the kitchen and spit-roasted a leg of lamb and then slathered it with tzatziki made from Greek yogurt, dill, spearmint and garlic. After all, we were in Greece for the day! I have a special place in my heart for Greece since Joe and I spent our honeymoon in a little villa looking over the sea in Santorini. I recalled lots of memories of my previous trips to Greece, but of course not all of them! We made galatoboureko, Joe's favorite, for dessert.
<GALATOBOUREKO

4 cups milk
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup fine semolina, sifted
4 tablespoons butter
Grated zest of 1/2 lemon
3" cinnamon stick
Pinch of salt
5 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla
8 ounces fillo dough
1/2 cup melted unsalted butter
Honey syrup (recipe follows)

Mix milk, sugar, semolina, butter, lemon rind, cinnamon stick and salt in a heavy saucepan and heat until thickened, stirring constantly. Let the custard bubble gently over very low heat for 5 minutes. Take away from the heat and remove the cinnamon stick. Cover with a piece of buttered parchment or waxed paper to prevent a skin from forming.

When the custard mixture is cool, blend in the eggs and vanilla.

Butter a 13 X 9" baking dish. Place about 15 layers in the dish, brushing each sheet with melted butter.

Pour the custard on top of the buttered fillo. Next place another 15 layers of fillo on top, brushing each with butter as it is placed in position. Brush the top with the remaining butter and score through the top 3 sheets of fillo into 3" squares or diamonds. Trim the edges and bake in a 350 degree oven for 45 minutes or until it is golden brown and the custard is set when tested with a knife.

Remove from the oven and cool thoroughly in the dish. Serve with the honey syrup.

Serves 12

Thursday brought us to Spain. It's summer, so naturally we began with a bowl of iced gazpacho. Later, we made our way outside to my balcony where we cooked a huge pan of paella over the open fire just like they do in Valencia. And on Friday, we started with the sensuous flavors of spicy eggplant jam smeared on crispy levain croutons followed by couscous and lamb and artichoke tagine. For dessert, we made this really aromatic crispy fillo layered with orange custard, cinnamon and toasted almonds.

Very fun week. I didn't need to pack, I didn't need a passport and I could sleep in my own bed. Yup, I did go on an amazing trip but I did it right here at home!