Gratin di sardine con pomodori e capperi (or sardine gratin with tomatoes and capers)

 

The other night  our youngest had a meltdown little moment right before dinner, the kind only a four year old can regale you with. The kind that makes you wonder if you are plain dumb or if you missed something crucial because it takes you totally by surprise and you have no idea why it is happening.

The scene: the children's room. Toys strewn all over the floor. Dinner is about to be served.

The rule: whoever makes a mess, cleans up. When the job is too daunting for a four year old and a little overwhelming for him to tackle on his own for organizational reasons, we help and also give him some general guidelines (put all the animals into the green box, all the lego pieces go into the blue box).

Action: my husband gives him a hand; they seemingly work together in harmony and the job is soon done. Dinner is on the table.

Next thing we know, our son turns into a raving, screaming, three-headed monster. He starts throwing all his neatly stowed away boxes and toys all over the floor again, putting them the way they were before the clean-up.

Aha, you are thinking, he wanted to do it himself, he wants to assess his independence, Daddy shouldn't have rushed him.

 

Polpo con patate in umido (octopus and potato stew)



This is the story of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde... went a famous song in the early Eighties.

 

That is my story these days, the story of my blond-haired, blue-eyed baby who not-so-occasionally morphs into a little monster with tentacles, a spinning head and flying spittle.

 

I get that Terrible Twos sounds much more catching than Terrible Fours, but for me it has always been about the fours. And from what I hear and see around, it is not just me. So to hell with the Terrible Twos, let's get serious and discuss the Frightful Fours.

My daughter had a pretty bad case of them, much worse than my son's, but she had the partial excuse of a baby brother invading her territory at the time.

He, on the other hand, may be a little easier to handle (and I have a feeling this is partly because he is a boy, a more simple gender to deal with in general) but he has no such excuse.

 

Lately the constant "No"s and whining and defiant attitude have been eroding my soul like a slow yet steady trickle of water. I know this phase will pass, I know he is taking his first steps in becoming independent, I know deep, deep down inside he is still my sweet little boy. But let me tell you, he can be a real pain in the a** on the outside these days.

Unfortunately, there is not much you can do except breathe in and breathe out (after you have tried everything from ignoring to reasoning to time outs - because everything just makes it worse) until it passes.

 

So when it takes me 20 minutes to get his shoes on at pre-school because this involves ten minutes of cajoling on my part and crying and screaming on his just to get to him to his locker (the last time it was about me daring to kiss him on his ear when he ran into my arms minutes before), five minutes of him flinging said shoes off every time I get them on his kicking feet and another five of him opening and closing the velcro straps repeatedly because I did it wrong and I am mean... I breathe in and I breathe out.

When he constantly and very publicly refuses to sit near me anywhere, whether on a bus, a plane or in a restaurant, because he wants Daddy and only Daddy - even when it is logistically impossible... I breathe in and I breathe out.

 

Smoked salmon and scallion cream cheese pinwheels

 

 

 

I know that for a lot of people who love to cook being on vacation means lots of time to prepare food for family and friends. They like to spend long mornings at local markets sourcing for ingredients they cannot find as good, as cheap - or at all in many cases - back home. They never leave home without their knives or some other favorite kitchen tool or essential ingredient. They relax firing up the barbecue or mixing large carafes of frozen cocktails.

 

I often entertain such Martha Stewart fantasies about moving at ease around a kitchen in Provence, French windows open on a garden where the children quietly play hide and seek behind the bushes and trees, a light flowing skirt swirling just above my tanned bare feet. A pinch of tarragon here, a drizzle of dry white wine there...

 

The reality, however is very different: I rarely cook consistently on vacation, especially summer vacation.

 

When we visit my husband's side of the family, there is no doubt about who reigns in the kitchen. I humbly hand over my scepter wooden spoon to my mother in law and busy myself with other things.

 

 

 

 

If we travel to the States every day is a whirlwind of friends and family to catch up with. We eat out up to twice a day sometimes and when we are home I spend a lot of time trying to contain my jet lagged, overexcited and overtired kids while my stepmother cooks up a delicious meal. Or we do what so many other fellow countrymen do: order in.

 

When visiting my mother, things are pretty much the same, minus the jet lag. Although, come to think of it, given Spanish hours, perhaps we should put jet lag back into the equation. There are lots of meals in restaurants and even more at family/friends' houses since the kids. When we do eat in, my mom takes care of the food while I, like the Cat in the Hat, save a vase with my left hand and a silver ashtray with my right while shouting at the kids for the umpteenth time to leave the dead snails and those piles of almonds, carobs and overripe figs outside of the front door please, not inside.

 

When we are on our own, by the time we get our tired, salty, sandy selves back from a long day at the beach, the most I can get myself to do is open a cold cerveza for my marido and myself and put some jamon, sobrasada and manchego out on the table for the niños, perhaps accompanied with some anchovy-filled olives and a glass or bowl of gazpacho.

 

This means that by the time I get back I am dying to get my hands chopping and slicing again and simultaneously a little rusty.

 

 

 

 

If you are feeling a little out of practice too, here is a really simple starter you can make in a matter of minutes. This is the perfect appetizer if you are on a no-carb mission after overeating during the holidays. Or, like us, you sometimes just miss a good NY sesame bagel with Nova and scallion cream cheese.

 

I made this following a mish-mash of different recipes online. Most of them said to refrigerate the roll for about an hour before cutting. That wasn't enough for me, so I stuck it into the freezer for another half hour and that made the process a lot less messy.

Roman fried, stuffed zucchini blossoms

After a few weeks of total germ-and-work-deadline-induced craziness, I am finally back with a new recipe. It is my mother in law's recipe to be honest, I just snapped pictures with my iphone while she was frying.
 

If you have been reading my blog long enough you already know it is impossible to get into my MIL's kitchen to cook and to tell you the truth, it was really nice to let someone pamper me for a change. She is queen of her kitchen and cooks up a feast when we are there. She is the kind of person that shows her love through her cooking and she clearly loves us very, very, very much if you ask me! Feel free to check out some of the other wonderful recipes she spoils us with when we are visiting. Ok, so the last link is for a restaurant, but if you ever go to Elba, you might want to check it out.

 

 

Anyhow, back to our vacation. We spent a lot of time at the beach, swimming, building sand castles and people watching. Here are a few considerations I came up with while minding everybody's business but my own.

 

1. Italy is known for its healthy Mediterranean diet. In Milan people are mostly in pretty good shape, so when I travel to other areas, especially southbound, I tend to forget how many are actually overweight in this country. I by no means have a waif-like figure, au contraire, but let me tell you, in that crowd I pulled out my bikinis and ditched the one piece. What really shocked me was the amount of heavily overweight children I saw. Apparently infantile obesity is becoming a huge issue here too. That's globalization for you. Mamma/nonna, why are you feeding your kid lasagna, insalata di riso, potato chips and foccaccia under the blazing midday sun?
 

2. Sun tents are all the rage now. Fair enough: they are practical, especially if you have little kids, and they protect you from the unhealthiest rays of the day. However, tent family, they do tend to be invasive and pretty ugly. So tent family, please pitch your condo more towards the back, not at the water's edge, where you are blocking the view of the sea for everybody behind you. Especially if you have one of those mega, whopping, family-sized pop-up sun tents. Oh, and by the way, that is my little toe you just knocked your damn peg into.

 

 

3. I get that you are on vacation and that you are in love, but please do not stand right in front of my kids making out and please ask your partner not to stroke your thong-clad 50+ year butt while doing this. It is difficult: a) to surpress their shrieking laughter; b) to ignore their pointing and insistent questions when you are two feet from us.

 

4. I have been married for more than ten years and I enjoy watching a good looking, tanned  guy walk by with droplets of salt water running down his abs as much as the next gal. But why is every attractive man over the age of 20 wearing a slip instead of swim trunks? I like admiring your six pack dude, but not your family jewels.

 

 

5. And why is every girl under the age of ten wearing a bikini top (sweetie, whatever you are trying to cover is two inches below the triangle), while the large majority of pubescent girls with, ehm, blossoming buds are walking around carefree and topless, attracting the inappropriate gaze of several middle-aged men (shudder)?

 

6. And last but not least, why oh why, body-building couple, did you feel the need to bring your humongous Saint Bernard to the beach? Besides the fact every time he moves  he hurtles half a sand dune, a quart of drool and a gallon of water our way... the poor sucker is really suffering.

 

 

 

What drives you crazy at the beach? Any funny anectdotes you want to share?

 



This recipe is typically Roman, but you can stuff zucchini blossoms in many ways. If you want a vegetarian version you can omit the anchovies or use just plain ricotta and Parmesan or flavor it in a variety of ways (pesto, saffron anyone?). Mozzarella and diced ham is also popular, although some people like them just as they are, with no stuffing at all.

 

If you want a lighter version you can make them in the oven, especially if you want to serve them at a seated dinner and be there to enjoy some too instead of standing in the kitchen sweating over a hot pan of splattering oil while your guests have all the fun. But dount count too much on the crunch factor, although you will definitely be eating a healthier, less caloric version of these.

Lemony sardine pâté

 

 

 Sardines are an extremely underrated fish. Unless you are Portuguese of course. Or Mediterranean.

 

The truth however, is that sardines are cheap, tasty, healthy, nutritious and a perfect pantry item.

 

I will not lecture you about the importance of eating certain kinds of fish for nutritional and environmental reasons. Suffice it to say write that this recipe is a new winner in my book.  

 

 

 

 

Before you get down to making this, a few fun sardine facts from the web.

The word “sardines” is actually a common name used to describe the immature fish of a variety of species all around the world. So when you are eating a sardine you are actually eating one of many kinds of fish, such as herring, smelts, brislings and pilchards, that get caught in nets during fishing.

 

Sardines are named after the Italian island of Sardinia, where they were seemingly abundant in past times.

 

Omega 3 fatty acids, highly present in sardines, reduce the likelihood of Alzheimer's disease, dementia and heart disease and lower blood sugar levels.

 

 

 

Canned sardines are however high in cholesterol, also because of the oil they are preserved in.

If you eat the whole sardine, including the tiny bones, the canned variety also ensures a good calcium intake.

Napoleon greatly helped in spreading the popularity of sardines: tinning the fish was an idea of two Frenchmen, Appert and Colin, but he started the canning industry at the beginning of the 19th century to feed the growing population and military. Sardines perished easily, so canning them was a way to ensure that the inhabitants of the farthest reaches of his Empire had a cheap and plentiful protein source.

Canned sardines have been known to hold up to 30 years.

  

 

 

 

Have you ever heard of the South African sardine run? Between May and July billions of sardines spawn and then move along the eastern coast of South Africa in shoals, which are often more than 7lms long, 1.5km wide and 30 meters deep and are clearly visible from the surface.

 

In the early 1900s Maine counted large numbers of canneries, producing up to more than 4 cans per American at that time, but now there is only one sardine plant left.

 

During the Cold War, sardines were extremely popular in the US. The US government apparently bought great quantities in the bomb-scare years and they became the number one convenience food for Americans. Now the average American does not taste a sardine before the age of 40.

 

Many expressions have arisen from the sardine canning industry: “packed in like sardines” originated in the 1800s from the practice of close packing this fish, describing any situation where people/things are crowded together. Then there is Alan Benett's "...Life, you know, is rather like opening a tin of sardines. We are all of us looking for the key..."

 

 

 

 

This is one of those examples of Pinterest actually being useful and not just a huge waste of my free - and not so free - time. I saw this idea ages ago on Food52 and loved it, pinned it and forgot about it. Until now that is.

  

It is so fast it won't take more than five minutes to make (and for half of that time, it is actually your food processor that is doing all the work). It is quite delicious and much cheaper than pate.

 

It is creamy yet tangy, and not very fishy at all (if that worries you) and the contrast of this cool, buttery spread on a slice of warm toasted bread will make you swoon. Guaranteed.

 

Adapted from HalfPint

Baccalà alla vicentina

There are different versions of how the inhabitants of Vicenza, the vicentini, came to love baccalà.

Some say that this recipe from Vicenza was already greatly appreciated back in the 13th century. There is a story that tells of how the Veronese opened the gates of the castle of Montebello in a battle against Vicenza when the latter called out that they were carrying polenta and baccalà.

The most accredited version of the recipe's origin, however, dates back to the middle of the 15th century, when an expedition led by the Venetian Querini was shipwrecked on Rost, an isolated island way off the coast of Norway. The unfortunate event however resulted in a few specimens of stockfish, dried cod, being brought back to the Italian shores, and it was the beginning of a neverending love story. It is undeniable that dried fish was a great solution both for seafaring people all over the world and those they left at home. Preserving food was not as simple as it is today and stockfish became the perfect substitute for fresh fish, then extremely expensive and easily perishable. The people of Vicenza found many a way to cook this fish, but it seems that  a well-loved woman, familiarly called siora Vitoria, the owner of a trattoria came up with this simple, yet very tasty way, of making baccalà at the end of the 19th century: the recipe now known all over Italy as baccalà alla Vicentina.

A few notes:

For those of you who may not be familiar with the difference, stockfish is dried cod while salt cod is made by preserving the same fish in salt. The different ways of preserving the fish are a direct consequence of the seasons. Cod is fished in the northern waters surrounding the coasts of countries like Scandinavia, Canada and Iceland. When the fish was caught in the winter months it was set out to dry in the cold sea air on rocks or wooden racks. In the warmer months, when this was not an option, the fish was cleaned directly on the boats and preserved in layers of salt in barrels. Once the fish is soaked for several days in fresh water, the result is quite similar.

In Italian cod is called merluzzo and the two variations are respectively called stoccafisso and baccalà. The people of Vicenza traditionally use stoccafisso in this recipe although they call it bacalà. They are neither ignorant nor confused, they simply call stockfish bacalà with one "c" and salt cod baccalà with two "c"s. So the truly correct name of the recipe is bacalà alla vicentina, although my post is called baccalà alla vicentina because I used salted cod instead of stockfish to make it (and I made boiled potatoes to go with it instead of polenta, because my daughter came down with the stomach flu and I couldn't hop over to the supermarket as I had been planning).

Burmese ginger salad

I have had a lot of different jobs over the years, including some pretty bizzarre ones when I was in University.

Like that time I did a good friend who worked in PR a last-minute translating favor because he had an emergency which ended up with me wearing a short red velvet dress with white fur lining, pretending to be Santa's helper/wife (I'm still not sure which) standing on a theater stage with a microphone in front of a crowd of pre-schoolers and mothers translating their questions to him in English. Santa spoke not one word of English and we had to totally improvise and the only reason I am telling you this is because we are good friends in an intimate setting.

Another time, when I was working for the inauguration of a historic Italian landmark that had been painstakingly restored, I was asked by that same friend (come to think about it, he is probably to blame for some of the insecurities that have followed me into adulthood) to become an impromptu interpreter for HRH xyz who was on an offical visit from xyz while they were taking her on a tour around the place. Just so you know, they started talking horse racing and thoroughbreds and the related terminology is not a part of my everyday English or Italian vocabulary. I was then pressed to entertain and distract her when the waiters had to take back the second course of the gala dinner as the pigeon that was being served was giving off a rotten smell because it had been aged a tad too long.

These days, however, working in finance, my work life is not quite as eventful or as exciting as it used to be so I had to smile today when I received an email offering me a free lance job totally unrelated to blogging by a person  because he is a foodie, or at the very least has a good sense of humor.

This is what he wrote at the end of his email:

"...P.S. The thing that really convinced me to contact you is the fact that you are a food blogger. Sure beats financial statements..."

In life, you never know what is around the corner and the best way to go through it is not taking yourself too seriously.

When I read the recipe for this salad on Global Table Adventures, I knew I had to make it. I love the flavors, textures and colors of Southeast Asian cuisine but had never tasted anything typically Burmese. I also conveniently had a most of the required ingredients in my kitchen, always a plus for me.

When it comes to food, you also never know what new surprises are awaiting you out there. A few weeks ago I discovered the joy Burmese food can give your taste buds.

Before making it I decided to do a little research. It turns out that this salad, called Gin Thoke, is usually served as a palate cleanser or even a dessert in Burma. I found several recipes for it and although almost all of them listed ginger, lime, peanuts, fish sauce, sesame seeds and cabbage as their main ingredients, several left out chickpeas and lentils or substituted these legumes with black eyed peas, split peas or lima beans. You can also use deseeded tomatoes, papaya, carrots or dried shrimp in it. As all popular dishes, there are as many variations as there are cooks. This salad is ideal for pescatarians and even vegetarians/vegans simply substituting the fish sauce with soy sauce (and kelp powder for fishiness if you like).

As many Asian recipes, this one may seem daunting if you just read the list of ingredients but it is actually very simple to make because it mainly involves a lot of chopping and the following of a few basic steps.

I set out to make this to bring to an aperitivo we were having with friends on Saturday evening and as potluck for a BBQ the following day, so I made about 16 servings worth, which meant I fried in several batches. If you make a smaller amount it will be even less laborious and time consuming.

Oh, last but not least, this recipe will leave you with about a 1/2 cup of deliciously aromatic ginger-infused lime juice that you can use to make a refreshing digestive summer drink with some sparkling water, or as Sasha over at Global Table suggests, adding hot water, vodka or honey (or all three together) to make a somewhat unusual, exciting cocktail.

Tuna and swordfish ceviche

The other day I finally made it to the hairdressers. I was greatly in need, my hair was extremely grateful.

Saying I dislike going to the hairdresser is an understatement. What seems to be a national passtime here in Italy, especially among the older gals, is something I dread. I mean, when you have a job and kids, the last thing you want to do is waste away your precious Saturday sitting at the hairdressers fighting throngs of other women. I can think of so many other things to do in those hours. Like stuffing some of the clothes overflowing from my laundry basket into the washing machine. Or running an errand. Or making a meal in daylight that I can actually post about. Or, so much better, spending the afternoon at the park with my family and maybe eating some sushi for lunch. Even pulling the fuzz balls off of my wool sweater has more appeal to be honest.

Besides hating to wait around for hours even if I have an appointment, I feel like a Christian in the Colosseum fighting off lions the girls insistently offering manicures, pedicures, special treatments, hair masks or their $50,00 bottles of shampoo and conditioner.

Not to mention going to a decent hairdresser is an expensive affair and you usually purposely mess up what you just paid for with your own hands the minute you turn the corner. And that on your walk home you realize every other woman has your hue of golden blond with warm highlights. I mean, is it just here that every woman over sixty seems to have the same puffed up bad hair color with blonde highlights that look like they were painted on by a road line marking machine?

Unfortunately the older you get the harder it is to walk around in your bed hair and to be taken seriously in life. Another unfortunate thing is that when you turn *beep* you have  a new problem to deal with, or rather a new color. White.

Why do men "grey"? Why do they get to call their white hair appealing things like pepper and salt or speckled? Why do George Clooney and Richard Gere just get sexier?

When a woman gets white hair, it is the beginning of the end. It is all downhill from there. They even dedicated a whole episode of Sex and the City to Samantha's discovery down south.

And why is the only white hair I have located exactly on the top of my head, where my hair parts, sticking up obnoxiously for the whole world to see, just in case people hadn't already noticed its annoying, wiry, thick texture. Couldn't I have more, but strategically hidden on the sides, under layers of youthful  hair? Not me, nuh-uh. My scalp seems to be saying: we ain't got much, so we might as well boast it.

So this is the story of when I went to the hairdressers to hide those little suckers and for the first time (because it wasn't a Saturday and I wasn't in a rush and because I had said no enough times) decided to go with the flow and have the half hour treatment to pamper my hair with nutrients and such.

And lo and behold I discovered a new world. The lady I was assigned to put on Barbra Streisand from an IPad lying next her station, she pulled out a foot rest from the chair I was sitting in and pushed a button that got the rollers going in what I discovered was a massage chair (I instantly felt like Sally hanging out with Harry in The Sharper Image). She then proceeded to massage a personalized concoction into my hair and I decided to enjoy it for the few mintues it lasted.

Little did I know the massage would last the whole half hour of hair mask. The woman massaged my head, my neck, my shoulders, my face. She even massaged my ear lobes! Who even knew ear lobes liked massages? Well, let me tell you, they do. 

When it was over, not only did the camouflaged white hair make me look 5 years younger, I also felt a decade younger. Lady, why didn't you just tell me I would get a free massage with my hair treatment???

Because I am still feeling good, and because I am trying to improve my eating habits and lose a few pounds these days, my recipe today is a healthy and tasty dish that is good for the body and soul.

Ceviche, as I am sure most of you know, is a Central-South American seafood dish prepared cooking the fish in citrus juice, usually lime, instead of heat. It is often accompanied by fresh cilantro (coriander), chili peppers and raw vegetables like onions, avocado etc. I left out the heat factor for my kids and used tomatoes, small green peppers, cucumbers and chives to make it as refreshing and light as possible. I also added a tablespoon of dried unsweetened coconut and a pinch of banana chipotle salt from  Farm Candy to give it a tropical hint and a teeny touch of heat. You can really play around with ingredients and quantities, so I am only giving you guidelines. Use any vegetable that appeals to you, or none for that matter, choose your favorite citrus (I am partial to lime), pick any fish you like but make sure it is very fresh.

This will make a great appetizer served with some toasted bread or tortilla chips or a healthy salad for lunch.

Salmon with pomegranate molasses glaze and roasted peaches

Remember how I mentioned a while back that these days my kids have a more active social life than their parents? Well, my children also live a more glamorous life than we do these days. While Mommy and Daddy sit in the office next week, little big girl will be on vacation again. Not bad, eh?

The first night she slept away from us a little over a half year ago I was nervous. The first time she left home for almost a week a few months ago my heart was breaking. The second time we dropped her off for a week less than a month ago I shed a few tears in the car.

This time I refuse to acknowledge that little ache in the upper left part of my chest. I will not have visions of myself sitting on the couch in an old pyjama à la Bridget Jones to the notes of All By Myself. I will blink back those tears and focus on what happens when she comes back.

We are going on vacation. There will be beautiful beaches, great wine, fabulous food. But most of all there will be family, friends, laughs, love. There will be my sister, who is my best friend. There will be my three beautiful blond-haired, blue-eyed German nephews. There will be their smart, fun loving dad. And last, but not least, the woman who started this all. My Mommy.

So there.

The detox continues. I am feeling healthier already and one pound lighter.

No surprise then that I was thrilled yesterday when I found inspiration on Dinners & Dreams to use up exactly the ingredients I had in my fridge. I played around with the recipe to accomodate some ingredients I wanted to use and leave out others I didn't have. The result was tangy, sweet, caramelized and tender at the same time.

The original recipe was meant for the grill and I am sure that would probably give even more delicious results but since I don't have one I roasted the salmon instead. In an attempt to eat as healthy as possible and cut some of the fattiness of the salmon, I roasted some peaches alongside. They were soft and sweet and juicy, just perfect. In less than 30 minutes I made a healthy meal fit for a king.

The next time I make this I will discard the excess marinade so it doesn't burn on the baking tray during roasting. This will allow me to set the oven on grill and raise the temperature so I can cook the fish for a shorter amount of time but at higher heat. This will make the salmon crunchier without overcooking it.

Spaghetti with clams and roasted fennel* - for my munchkin

Dear Munchkin,

yesterday you climbed onto a doubledecker bus with a big toothless smile and drove away.

Five years ago you were barely a baby and now you are hundreds of kilometers away with your friends, laughing and playing and chatting a mile a minute.

When I got back from the office, I came across the pink mug with your name on it, the one you use to drink your milk at breakfast. I picked it up and held it in my hands and felt my chest tighten a bit. It is normally so easy to just reach out and touch you, but now all I can do is caress its smooth surface.

Don't worry, I am not sad, I know you are in good hands and that you are having the time of your life. A few days ago, when I was kissing you good night and I told you I would miss you, you took my face in your hands and said: "don't worry Mommy, I will only be gone five days and then it will be the week end and we will have two whole days together". When did you grow up and become so wise?

How are you suddenly old enough to leave with your own suitcase that holds 6 plastic bags, one for each day, with your name on it and a full change of clothes (including your cupcake underwear) and an extra bag for disco night, with a fancy dress and tights in it? 

Your brother didn't really seem to notice you were gone and got extra cuddles and attention, but the apartment seems quiet. While I was brushing his teeth I wondered whether you were brushing yours alone or if your teacher was helping you. While I was changing his diaper I glanced over at your bed. It was intact, each and every pillow in the right place. I felt that pang again. That is when the little one seemed to finally catch on. He walked over to your bed and tried to climb onto it, repeating your name over and over. He had a hard time falling asleep, there were a lot of tears. It was the fifth time in his life he was sleeping without you (and the first three he was in the hospital with me and barely knew you - or me - yet).

Did you sleep well my love? Were you homesick? Today I am calling you at 2:00pm. The teachers thought it best not to call the first day, so you could get settled. They strategically picked the afternoon so you little guys would be distracted by all the planned activities after speaking to us.

What are you doing this morning? Are you hiking up the mountain with the secret map? Are you playing on the shores of the lake? Or are you taking that boatride you were so excited about?

Whatever you are doing my love, have fun. Laugh until your tummy hurts, run until your cheeks turn pink and your hair looks even crazier than it usually does. Even if a teeny irrational part of me wants you to be a little homesick, the truth is I know you are probably not and that you are having the time of your life and this makes me happy. Because it means that you feel loved at home, that you know that we are waiting for you no matter how far away you are and that our love makes you feel safe enough to spread your wings and fly.

My daughter is away at a program called Scuola Natura organized by the Italian public school system to take kids on a nature trip for a week. Our school was picked at the last minute so there was not much time to get organized before departure. Which is a good thing if you are asking me, because: a) my daughter would have burst with the excitement of leaving if she would have had to wait even just a day longer; b) it didn't give us parents too much time to agonize before they left (as some of you know, this was the second night my daughter was ever spending away from us). The organizational aspect was quite intricate as you can imagine, considering it involved preparing for a 5-year old to be away for five whole days filled with several activities. Besides the clothes bags I mentioned above with names and hand written notes of their content and an endless list of accessories to prepare, it involved (among other things):

- decorating a treasure box together with your child to take along to store material and souvenirs

- organizing a cell phone card to give the teacher to use for phone calls and calling procedures

- a meeting with the teacher and parents

- writing addresses on adhesive labels and buying stamps for postcards

- preparing an envelope with spending money in small bills

- writing a personal letter to the teacher describing your child' everyday habits and bedtime routines to   make them feel at home as much as possible

Here is a recipe that my little girl really enjoyed the night before leaving. Hope you enjoy it too. 

*For those of you who do not like fennel, roasting it totally erases that aniseed flavor and makes it soft and sweet, almost like a roasted onion. You have to try it to believe it.

Pasta with swordfish & toasted pistachio and breadcrumbs

I consider myself a positive and pretty optimistic person. My glass is mostly half full, not half empty. I usually wake up with a smile and like to look at what is good in my life rather than what isn't.

Today, however is an especially good day. A celebration of coming home.

This morning I got a phone call from my close friend Y. Some of you may remember my post mentioning her husband was being readmitted to the hospital to fight his ongoing battle against leukemia last month. She called to tell me that after a cycle of chemio and more, he is on his way home right now as I write. This guy is going back home to his wife, his two little children and all that is familiar to him. No more IVs, no more sterile room, just rooms full of toys, the everyday disorder of a house full of kids, laughter and love. Nothing sterile there.

There is no feeling in the world like coming home. I am sure he would agree if you asked him that. The feeling of being somewhere where everything is familiar, from the books to the photographs to the smell. Have you ever noticed how all homes have a unique smell? Home is where you can walk around in the dark and not bump into any furniture (unless you are pregnant). Home is the place where you know where each and every crack and worn spot is, those tiny imperfections that your guests may not notice but that scream out to you every time you walk into a room.

But coming home is also in the embrace of the person you love after a bad day in the office or an argument you had the day before (wait, didn't we all swear we would never go to bed angry at each other?).

Coming home is the feeling of familiarity you have walking through streets where you recognize faces, stores and sounds even if you have been away for a long time.

Home is watching your red-cheeked, open-mouthed children sleeping in their beds, on an airplane, in a car or anywhere, as long as you are there together.

Home is unexpectedly tasting something you haven't had since your grandmother made it for you when you were a child and that you have never been able to recreate in your own kitchen.

Coming home is wonderful, it is the feeling of being safe and loved like nowhere else, and we must never take it for granted, even when we are itching to go.

What is home for you?

This dish may have tasted a little like home to F, with its flavors so reminiscent of the Mediterranean. It is full of the sun, the sea and the colors of the islands.

I was inspired by a tray of swordfish in pieces at the market. I usually do not buy things that are prepared in advanced or pre-cut, say pre-filleted chicken breast or pork loin, because they are much more expensive and often not  as appealing. However the idea of cooking with what were probably the trimmings from perfectly cut fish filets and the less noble parts did appeale to me. First of all, with wild fresh fish costing as much as it does, you don't just go out and buy four huge swordfish or tuna stakes for a simple week night dinner with the kids, if you know what I mean. Plus, I felt it was an environmentally friendly choice to use up all parts of the animal, those parts that are discarded just because they aren't the right width or shape. When you are making a pasta sauce, you want the tastier, fattier part of the fish and you will be needing smaller pieces anyway. I will keep my eyes open for these cuts from now on.