It was a rainy morning in Modena as we sipped on our cappucinos at Mon Cafe and mentally prepared for the meal that we traveled across the ocean for. We pulled apart our cornetto and decided to kill some time at the local market before our 12:30.
As we meandered around the stalls, we daydreamed about what was to come. The crunchy part of the lasagna, the five ages of Parmigiano, the eel swimming up the Po river. All of the names and visuals of dishes that we'd seen on Chef's Table: S1 E1. We went back to our B&B practically dancing around the room. My silk dress slid down my body, Brandon's wool jacket hugged his broad shoulders. We looked in the mirror. Not bad. Not bad at all.
For as long as I can recall, my grandfather has dreamt of taking his whole family on a summer vacation. Stay in a villa somewhere, swim in the ocean, eat ice cream two times a day, the good life. For a man who came to America at 42, and who has 3 daughters and 7 grandchildren this was quite a grand dream. This year, it finally happened and we spent a week together in Crete. I am writing this article from our flight home, and peppered throughout you’ll find photos of me and the gang.
Ok guys, the other day I went to Mecca AKA Whole Foods and spotted a beautiful package of tortillas I’d never seen before. They were paper thin and carried ubiquitous char spots. They appeared to be blistered and shiny, even in the package. I was shocked by the $7 price tag, considering how cheap tortillas normally are, but I was intrigued by the description: "We produce tortillas the same way it is done throughout the towns, villages and cities of Northern Mexico."
As soon as the weather gets chilly, I consume hot liquids en masse, moving seamlessly from my morning coffee to lunchtime soup to afternoon tea and back again. Nothing comforts me more on a brisk, New York day then a huge bowl of hearty broth with all the fixins, and a lot of slippery noodles to fortify that winter body we're all working towards.
this movie, my goodness. get yourself some pizza or sushi tonight, or make a pumpkin soup, and curl up on the couch for a perfect night in. if you enjoy dramatic comedy, and dustin hoffman (who doesn't?) then you will enjoy this cinematic work of art. I won't spoil the plot for you, but it involves intricate family plot lines and really makes you question what it means to be part of a unit.
How can I even explain the perfection of this family-owned restaurant to you? I can't do it justice, but I will try hard enough to get you there. The doorway is so tiny that two people can't stand in it at once. There are a total of 8 tables in the whole place. The bar makes a stellar negroni. The waiters are kind, patient, and generous with the warm grilled bread and olives they serve you upon ordering. The pasta is magnificent, the portions a plenty. The ambiance is charming and cozy, and the food is refined without being stuck up.
Sometimes you stumble upon something so delicious and so perfect in it's simplicity that you don't want to risk letting go of that. I get it...why try something else when it won't be as good? This is exactly how Brandon and I felt when we discovered Sesuit Harbor Cafe on Cape Cod last week.
I live in a quaint, historic Brooklyn neighborhood called Boerum Hill, which is south of Brooklyn Heights, and north of the more popular Cobble Hill! It's quiet, beautiful, and has some fantastic shops and restaurants. Boerum Hill has a very old-world feel, with tree-lined streets, and dreamy brownstone-lined blocks. It's a perfect place to come eat, shop, explore, and get a taste of Brooklyn. Boerum Hill is much more toned-down than say Williamsburg, but I find the curation of stores to be a bit fresher than those further south in Park Slope, so you should come give it a try! Here are my go-tos for eating, drinking, shopping and chilling in the neighborhood!
For Brandon's birthday this year, I decided to spend money on an experience rather than a thing. I booked us a weekend in Woodstock on a huge farm, through Tentrr. It was a happy medium for both of us. Brandon got to sleep in a tent, and cook over a fire; I got a real mattress and a town with adorable shops.
Before we left for Japan. I didn’t have the slightest clue that any sort of coffee culture existed there. I assumed we would have green tea served with every meal, but you know what they say: when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.
It was a present for our one year anniversary, the most romantic gift I’d ever been given. A weekend in Pareeee. Did I remember any of my junior high school French? More importantly, what would I wear??? He told me about a week in advance, and when I asked why he didn’t just tell me en route to the airport, he said “because your Mom warned me.” I laughed.
When I say a 25-course symphony, by God I mean symphonic orchestra, front row seats at the Met. Every single piece was a subtle harmony of warm sticky rice and the freshest fish I've ever eaten. It was really challenging for me to decide where to try an omakase meal in Tokyo, and I hope my article helps you narrow down your choices
Konichiwa readers! As you may or may not know from my Instagram, I just returned from a life changing trip to Japan. It was such an eye-opening experience, and I learned so, so much. I am excited to share my thoughts with you on everything from Japanese etiquette to my favorite coffee shop in Kyoto. Up first, my thoughts on the tradition of bowing.
From the wafting scent of freshly-ground beans, to the steam that creeps up the sides of the Chemex, to the very first sip that touches my parched, morning lips. Drinking coffee is an exclusive relationship that presents itself at sunup, shortly after the clamor of my alarm.