An Artichokian Metaphor

I am currently in a love-hate relationship.

Right now it is mostly based in hate since artichokes and I are not in good favor with one another.

April Foodie Penpals

1. I’m alive.
2. I promise.
3. Junior year has been busy.
4. Really busy.
5. So busy that any free time I have is spent watching episodes of the Good Wife, obsessing over Penn Badgley in Girl Gossip, hot yoga and looking at too many pointless Georgetown-related tumblrs.
6. And it is about to get worse.
7. Finals have arrived.
8. One sit-down exam, three papers, 25 pages, and 10 days separate me from summer.
9. Unless you count the extra week spent working at school, then it is 18 days.
10. It cannot come soon enough.

Recreating Memories in the Kitchen

I can’t remember exactly when it was, but recently I learned an Italian phrase that I had never heard before: “fare la scarpetta.” Roughly translated “to do the little shoe,” the terms refer to the act of taking a piece of bread and soaking up the remnants of gravy or soup or whatever meal leftovers remain.

Upon investigating, I learned that the “shoe” reference is a metaphorical description of the bread. Like a shoe being dragged in the mud, the bread soaks up the sauce and becomes saturated with flavor.

An Old-School Italian Cook

My aunt is a stereotypical, older Italian lady. She won’t leave the house without lipstick. She yells at her husband whenever she teases him. And of course, she can cook a mean gravy.

Most of my memories with my aunt come from visiting at her house by the beach in Rhode Island. Although she lives only 45 minutes away, 45 minutes of travel for Rhode Islanders is a long way. Because of this, I usually only saw my aunt and uncle a few of times a year. Once on Christmas Eve for the traditional Feast of the Seven Fishes and then maybe a couple of times in the summer when we wanted an escape to the beach. 

A Vegetarian Failure

18 days into the year and I have already failed.

No, this is not a repost of Monday’s posting about my failed blogging efforts. Regrettably, this is another failure of mine to commit myself to change in 2012.

As I explained in a post earlier this month, I decided to become a vegetarian. With many of my closest friends meat-free eaters and the fact that I ate very little meat to begin with, I resolved to make significant changes in my dieting lifestyle.

La Carne Non Più: Meat No More

This is one of my favorite stories to share, so please forgive me if you are someone who is hearing it for the bagillionth time.

As many of you know, last spring semester I studied away from the Georgetown Hilltop and relocated to the hillside of Fiesole in Florence, Italy. During those four months abroad, I commuted from my homestay to attend classes at Georgetown’s Tuscan villa, Villa Le Balze. As a homestay, I lived with another female student from the program in the home of a local family. My host mother was the sweetest, tiniest woman, and, as could be expected, she was an incredible cook. Every meal at Flavia’s table reminded me of those Sunday mornings as a child spent with my Italian great grandmothers.

Southern Comfort Dinner

There is a classic saying that warns about having “too many cooks in the kitchen.” The danger of combining too many hot-headed, do-it-my-way-or-no-way, food obsessed people in an overheated, confined space is an increases risk a big flare up. The likelihood of it being the food or the people is equal.

Yet, when you manage to bring people together who have a real passion for flavors and cooking, the results can also be amazing. This was my experience during a weekend cooking with one of the suitemates.

Having a Relationship with my Pizza

There is scene in the film Eat, Pray, Love when Julia Roberts’ character Elizabeth makes a pilgrimage to Naples to indulge in the staple of Neapolitan cuisine: pizza. Sitting at a communal table with a whole pizza to herself, she takes a bite and then breaks out into a wide grin.

“I’m in love. I’m having a relationship with my pizza,” she says, wiping her cheesy hands and tomato stained face with a napkin. Although her friend Sofi feels guilty about indulging in the thin crust, tomato pie, Elizabeth convinces her that worrying about muffin tops should be the last thing on their minds. Then, after finishing both of their pizzas, Elizabeth proceeds to order another round— with double the mozzarella.

How my Suitemate is Making Me Fat

I have a unique problem. It is a problem that many people might not even think worth worrying about it. Considering the condition of my apartment and my “fifth” roommate, one might wonder what other concerns I could possibly have. So what is the dilemma? My suitemate is tempting me with too many with cupcakes.

Un Giro a Siena

This past weekend I took a trip to Siena.

While I wish I could say that I was in the Tuscan city that is world-famous for the Palio horse race, its neighborhood rivalries and cuisine, I spent this Saturday evening in a local restaurant, imagining myself transported to the Italian province.

Located in Rhode Island’s Little Italy area known as Federal Hill, Siena restaurant promises diners “authentic Tuscan cuisine in a warm, inviting and lively atmosphere.” Having spent the last semester in Tuscany, I have been on a search for someplace where I could taste the flavors I fell in love with overseas.