You might assume that Nick has hijacked The Paupered Chef, chopped my body into little pieces and hid me in the attic (between sessions of ravioli-making and chili shenanigans ). But this is not the case; I am alive and well. I left Estonia for close to a month to bask in holiday cheer back home in the States. But now I've returned to the cold and dark climate of Northern Europe...
It came in tin foil, a particularly unfancy receptacle for what was inside. Our waiter, who had just dropped off plates of sea bass carpaccio and a veal meatloaf stuffed into chicken neck (including the head), put the foil on a plate and began unceremoniously unfolding its crinkled, crimped top. It opened in a steamy, meaty rush, and none of us could do much but stare. As Hamid, our hos...
We only had one night in Rome to eat. So where would we choose? We had no idea where to begin.
My friend Mitchell Davis came to the rescue when I emailed him to ask for help. One night in Rome? "I’d try Matricianella, I think, if I had one night. All the classics, well prepared, great wine list, not pricey." Indeed, classics were what I wanted: specifically, a giant creamy steamin...
I've dreamed about going to Italy for a couple years now. But with New York rent to pay, only a handful of vacation days to draw from, and 7 hours of plane time all conspiring against me, I've never been able to go. By a great margin Italian food is my favorite food to cook. As my love of Italian food has grown, so has this vaguely imaginary place called Italy--into a glorious land of gran...
The weekend before last Elin and her mom and I set off to see four states in four days. Our goal was to do it just before the tourists and summer heat took over. In the highly organized itinerary, which would be promptly deviated from, we had plans for upstate New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine. The loose organizing principle to the whole affair was to stay in Bed and Breakfasts...
Montreal is famous for a dish called poutine, which we sampled heavily the weekend we visited, in which crispy frites are salted, tossed with pillowy, tender cheese curds, then smothered in rich brown gravy. A dish, suffice it to say, to be eaten with a fork. At Au Pied de Cochon , Montreal's cult restaurant where gluttony and excess have become signature sins, they include all of tho...
When Elin went to Montreal a couple years ago, she sent me an email with only a photograph attached, a picture with her mouth open, eyes closed, and a forkful of French fries covered in gravy. The subject of the email said simply, "Poutine," and I knew that one day we would travel to Montreal where I could try this dish myself and experience the delight that was apparent on her face.
As if...
"No, no, no!" our waiter was saying, dashing across the room to our white-tableclothed table, where we were sitting in front of a grilled Turbot. I was politely transferring a portion of the fish's glistening meat to my plate with two forks.
"It's very important to us," he began to explain, almost out of breath, while taking my fork and knife, "to eat with our hands." He picked up the fis...
We were in a tiny silver Citroen, maps strewn all over the dashboard, Elin in the passenger seat, me driving us in circles (literally, around the roundabout over and over) trying to get us to the correct highway and out of Madrid. Elin was reading Bill Bryson’s Notes From a Small Island during our trip--and while overall she couldn’t help but write him off as a mostly unfunny curmud...
As I mentioned, Madrid is a city easily covered by foot (at least, the city center is--I’m sure the outer boroughs, so to speak, are worth exploring), which leaves a visitor quickly able to see the Prado, Plaza del Sol, and any other major tourist destinations in an afternoon. What’s left is to submit yourself to the ebb and flow of Madrid’s infectious lifestyle: eating, drinking, and neve...