Big Sweet Tooth

*F* is for Food (Street, Homemade & Pure)

F is for Food

Food is really the reason I travel.  Sure, I love everything about meeting new people, examining foreign cultures and traditions, and exploring hidden villages, but the usual reason that I'm so intent on hitting the road is for the food.  No way in the world would I trek somewhere that didn't have good food.  No matter how beautiful, how amazing, how incredible the place was.  It's just not what drives me.  The food--which is ultimately the history and soul of a country--is what propels me to hop on a plane or jump in my truck and GET THERE asap.

I usually start with the street food and slowly build my way up to tiny stalls, back-alley restaurants, beachside shacks and ultimately a homemade meal in a locals home.  Anything that doesn't cater to tourists is exactly what I'm looking for and it's most definitely where the best food can be found.   It's the stands, the stalls, the shacks, the rough-hewn firepits, the homemade BBQ grills and the coolers full of warm goodies that are turning out the best grub, bar none.

Everyone always tells me I must have a tummy made of steel.  And, I always laugh because I think the reason I never get sick is because I keep it simple.  I almost never eat the meat (sometimes the juice on rice or a few bites if it looks irresistible).  I eat often and with great voracity.  I stick to the most natural items I can find--those that are closest to the earth.  Rice, corn and lentils are usually in the mix somewhere (be it in Africa, Mexico, Indo, Spain, Greece, Italy, or Tanzania).  I usually spend most of my traveling dollars on food, but very little real dinero is needed when you eat at the kind of places I frequent.

All my travel memories can usually trace a very thin line back to a certain meal.  A freshly caught fish grilled at the beach and a sprinkling of stars. Maybe a stewpot full of bright red soup as a parting gift from a happy new friend.  Or a just-picked vegetables breakfast at a volunteer homestay in Indo.  For me, watching a old fella with rickety pullcart at the bottom of a busy hill somewhere in Indonesia prepare his fried goodies (with great pride and concentration) is deeper satisfaction that watching a master chef  prep food in his all teched out kitchen. 

Food is what makes the world go 'round. It's the one thing everyone on the face of the earth has in common. It breaks language barriers..and when given the proper care and attention, it's the most powerful force in the world.  Clearly I am obsessed with it~~

Nasi Campur...the c is pronounced ch

After a trip like the one I just took, it's hard to figure out where to start, so I'm just gonna go back to my roots and being with food.  There is a dish in Indo called nasi campur (mixed rice) that literally took over my entire train of thought.  I woke up thinking about it, I went to bed thinking about it, I dreamed about it and I even found myself whispering "nasi campur" to not a soul--I just wanted to hear the words over and over again.  I had a favorite warung (eating place) in Balinese village of Candidasa that served it (but all of them do) and I developed a little understanding with the always smiling woman who ran the shop (she didn't speak a lick of English).  I'd come in and grab a huge cold water from the freezer (I needed the whole big bottle not only because it was sweltering but because my selections were so spicy) and while I was searching for the coldest vessel, she'd cone off some wax paper and stuff it with nasi (rice) and whatever veggies she'd whipped up that day.  Then, as I stood patiently and giddily by, she'd toss on a fried egg and maybe a little tempeh or tofu and gently fold up my lunch (all this for 40 cents).  I would bound back to my hotel and wolf the whole thing with my fingers (right hand only) while gazing out at the crashing ocean by the infinity pool.  Besides the village and people of Sembalun, the crazy flavor of this simple dish is what I will miss most about Indo.  Say it with me, "nasi campur"...it just feels so right whispering out of my lips.

San Diego and Baja Fish Tacos...

Winding up my hectic three day Baja jaunt, I found myself back in San Diego on the way to the airport craving what else?  Fish tacos!  Fortunately, just around the corner from the SD airport is Los Ranchos Taco Shop, a tiny six table fast food joint (of course, they serve beer and wine). I made it my final pitstop before hitting the airport and heading back to Chicago.  Their fish tacos were gigantic (and delish) and in typical American style...when I ordered a bag of chips, I was thinking I'd get a small basket ot tortilla chips, but oh no!  Out comes a freaking HUGE sack of chips.  I mean WTF?  Who serves that many chips with a couple of fish tacos?  I had five of them and then flipped them my neighbors way.  He was delighted...Hasta pronto Baja y San Digeo

Born Cooking: Barcelona + Pipe Dreams

Last year, I spent months in Barcelona working on America's Next Top Model.  When I wasn't hunkered down in the production office, I was off wandering the narrow streets of this always seductive city.  One of my favorite areas by bar was the Barrio Gothico.  I would spend hours lolling about, slowly absorbing every nook and cranny in the ever-changing landscape of this eclectic 'hood (re: getting happily lost every other turn).  I have yet to find an American city that enchants me the way foreign cities do.  Many are like big city/small villages and the majority of peeps hush puppy their way from place to place, as opposed to the insane neck-and neck grind I'm loathing more and more every day.  I used to saunter by Born Cooking, an adorable, teensy bakery/cafe all the time and I'd just stand outside the front window, silently pawing the fresh baked goods inside. Lately, I've been waxing poetic about ditching all things urban and heading off to some small village to open a lively cafe.  Really, you only live once and I think I need to spend a good chunk of time here in the very near future attempting the impossible...or what most consider "pipe dreams."  More on that endeavor soon~

Babycakes: New York City

Last time I was in NYC (just a few months ago),  made a beeline for Babycakes, the perfect little cupcake haven.  I'd heard all about their moist, creamy gluten-free desserts and I was gonna get some no matter how jam-packed my sked was.  Me and a sugar-hungry pal scrammed all the way down to the East Side one sunny afternoon and made like banditas...there were fluffy cupcakes, chewy brownies, and big round cookies all chomped down within a matter of minutes.  Were they as good as the real thing (circa Sweet Mandy B's in Chicago)--that's a negative.  We're they dreamy and mouthwatering and exactly what I needed to hit the no-gluten-allowed spot?  You better believe it, cookie dough~

Tamale Lust (From CS 7/31/07)

Though you might not know it, tamale sleuths abound in Chicago. The devoted bunch tracks down the most memorable packet of masa dough they can get. These bundles of flavor date back to ancient times (5000 BC, to be exact), when they were hand-slapped with fillers like tadpole, ox, gopher and bees. Today tamales come snugly steamed in a compact shell with pork, chicken or chile and cheese. Everyone thinks they know the choicest place to get the goods, but we've tried them all and know a fine tamale when we taste one.

Tamales You Wish You Knew How to Make: That Little Mexican Cafe (Edgewater)
Though the restaurant has a gentrified feel, its steadfast kitchen busts out some tamale winners. Ordered either as an appetizer or a full dinner, the thick vegetarian tamales come doused in a tart green sauce and a sweet red mole. After your first bite of the red, you'll shoot a look that'll make the chef swell with pride: an outright deer-caught-in-the-headlights gaze full of pure happiness. Coupled with a stout blended daiquiri and a basket or two of chips and salsa, these yuppy tamales will surprise you with how much joy they bring to your lips.

Baja Fish Tacos Found in LA

A couple of weeks ago, I was out in LA for work and happened to have a severe taste for Baja fish tacos.  Of course, I had no time to swing down across the border, but I did happen to find this little gem locally in Los Angeles.  Hole Mole is a tiny fast-food style fish shack out near Long Beach that has fried fish tacos EXACTLY the way they are made down on the Sea of Cortez--battered and crispy; slightly sweet and flaky; delicious and covered in crema.  I had three of them with some beans and rice and could hardly walk after, but it definitely took care of my violent, cave-man-like craving.  There used to be a place here in Chicago that served them the same way, but they closed down due to lack of business (being on the far south side in no man's land didn't help)...but I'm telling you if someone took a chance and opened up a Baja Fish Taco Joint (and literally, called it that) in a walkable 'hood in Chi, it would be an instantaneous hit~

Street Food: A Cookbook by Tom Kime

I have just gotten in the mail what I am dubbing Misty's Perfect-in-Every-Way Cookbook.  It arrived today in a tidy little package and I just stopped flipping through the pages lovingly and had to immediately get to planning what I am going to make come the light of day.  Basically, the writer/chef, Tom Kime, travels R-T-W to get his hands on authentic, mouthwatering street food anywhere he can source the best stuff and has crammed it all in this beautiful, perfectly sized cookbook. I'm a street food, round-the-corner shack, pushcart vendor, cooler-toting-all-the-good-stuff, random kitchen fanatic, so this book is nothing but bliss for me (plus, all the recipes are short and seem very doable).  In all, the global recipes I'm diggin' most are:  Nonya Sambal (spicy green vegetable stir fry); Chee Pow Kai (paper-wrapped chicken); Cucur Udang (Singapore prawn fritters with sweet chili sauce); Cari do Bien (South Vietnamese Seafood Curry); Banh Tom (Hanoi prawn cakes); Queijo Na Brasa (Grilled Salty cheese marinated with oregano); Acaraje Com Salada Fresca (Bean patties with avocado and tomato salad); Triglie De Scoglio (Pan fried red mullet with preserved lemon, olives, and parsley); Fetta (Stuffed eggplant with yogurt and pinenuts); Shourba Corbase (Chard soup with rice and tumeric); and Houmous Bil Erfeh Lahem (Hummus with cinnamon lamb).  I could sit and gaze at this cookbook all night long (which I plan on doing), and not only taste the succulent food in my mouth, but plot and plan my very next escape.  Luckily, I'm heading back to Indonesia soon, where the street food rivals no other....and, in the meantime, I've got my new best friend of a book~

The Little Owl--Perfection in NYC

I have a new favorite restaurant in NYC.  It's a tiny gem in the West Village called The Little Owl.  I was just there this past weekend and talk about the perfect place to eat.  Of course, I only had brunch, but if dinner is anything like brunch, watch out.  I tired SEVERAL mimosa's with fresh squeezed grapefruit, awesome eggs benedict, whole grain pancakes with crystal clear vanilla syrup and mascarpone and the ultimate truffle, parmesan and watercress omelette. I guess I just love that the staff didn't hound us for our table even though the place was packing up...and that they were all charming and helpful (another mimosa?  SURREEEEE!!!).  Another biggie to add to the life to do list for my little cafe in Mexico.  Squeeze fresh grapefruit and add it to champagne; drink copious amounts with clientele. 
*Plus, another bonus was the owl on the ledge over the door....just like my endangered species Elf owl cell phone ring...hello...

Puerto Sagua in Miami Dishes up the BEST Ropa Vieja

A little over a week ago, I found myself in Miami working for a day (yep, just one day) and could not get the thought of that amazing Cuban dish ropa vieja out of my mind.  I've been thinking of it since I got back from Nicaragua over a year ago and have tried it a few times here in the states and NOTHING has ever even come close.  So, knowing that Miami was on the horizon, I started plotting to have lunch somewhere in South Beach where they dole out authentic Cuban food.  Enter Puerto Sagua, a small Cuban joint/diner right in the heart of South Beach.  While everyone else at my table was ordering up boring grilled chicken and such, I went with the sure thing...a big pan of sweetly delicious, tomato sauce smothered, onion studded ropa.  The meat had been cooked so long it was like little razor-thin strings of butter melting in my mouth and even their plantains, black beans and rice were perfect.  Now if I'd just had a mojito to wash it all down with...
Meanwhile, some poor chick at a table nearby was quizzin' the waiter on fat content and salad dressings...like could she have it on the side with no cheese, no fat, no bread...man, that all just = no life! 

Taqueria El Paso on the South Side of the Island (Isla Mujeres)

I just don't know when I'm gonna find it in me to stop writing about Mexico.  I just cannot seem to get enough--every time I scroll thru my photos, out pops another vibrant image from my recent travels to Isla Mujeres.  Hell, right now I am listening to Spanish for Dummies on my computer and for breakfast, I had a big, fat plate of Mexican food.  I also happen to be making black bean soup with rice, lime and avacado  When is enough enough, you ask?  I'd say never.  I mean, look at this glorious little tamale.  It was still hot off the grill when I bought it at this tiny shack of a restaurant in the local downtown of Isla (as opposed to the North side downtown which is a little more tourist heavy).  Thank God for the in-the-know taxi driver who dropped me at this gem; I was on the hunt for huevos and he knew just where to drop me.  Taqueria El Paso had the best breakfast (eggs, beans, tortillas, salad, the BEST salsa EVER) on the island and I couldn't help but snatch one of these pollo tamales to top it all off.  Doused in their spicy, homemade salsa, it was a sight to behold.  My whole meal for $3 bones.  I will say it again, MEXICO RULES~

Elements of the Island: Gateway to Spring~

Now that spring is on the way, it's time for the FULL cleanse (of course, I say this as I'm sippin' a cuba libre), but seriously, tomorrow the plan is to buy some groceries and try to keep it real for a few weeks...enough of the Mexican slam downs, the copious amounts of vino and rum, the french fries slathered in ranch; you get my drift.  It's been a long, hard winter.  But, now I'm all about granola, fish, nuts, berries, smoothies, greens, etc...Farmer's markets are up and running soon, the days are longer, the seagulls are floating by my windows and the lake is MAD blue.  Whilst on Isla Mujeres, I had the most delicious granola (with shredded coconut, fruit, nuts, raisins, yogurt and honey) my last morning at this adorable cafe called, Elements of the Island.  If I ever had a little restaurant in paradise, I'd model it after this oasis; fair-trade coffee, organic fruit, free-range meats, all the good stuff.  Plus, this super place has yoga classes upstairs every morning at 9 AM as well as a few guest rooms on site.  If you go to Isla, make sure to head there...it's a calm, serene environment that just makes you happy.  They even serve mini dolphin shaped sugar cookies with their coffee.  The smile just got bigger~

Deep Fried Pigskins~A Mexican Delight

Now, I don't know if you have ever had a homemade pigskin straight out of a pot of hot oil, but it's a taste to behold.  I ran into a little guy whipping some up on Isla Mujeres at this carnitas joint.  All they had on offer was pork...either on a corn tortilla or in torta form.  The only toppings were cilantro, onions, lime and salsa.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Talk about perfection.  Anyway, this fella was grabbing huge sheets of rich-looking pig skin, unfurling it, gently lowering it into the smoky oil for a few seconds and then dragging it onto the counter.  Each lucky customer got a huge crackle of it to chow do on with their taco.  Totally fascinating process and I could have sit there, sipped cola from a bottle, snapped photos...and slammed tacos all dang day!

Spoonful of Isla Mujeres Paradise {From The Raving Dish}

Travel is in my bones, and short day trips to Milwaukee or quick jaunts to the Michigan shore don't do it for me. No, to make me blissfully happy it has to be remote, exotic and involve lots of frequent flyer miles. In the first 10 weeks of 2007 I've already rollicked through South Africa, sailed the shores of Zanzibar, squinted up at the sunny skies of Southern California, braved the Mexican border in Baja and, just this past weekend, hit up the mind-bogglingly beautiful beaches of Isla Mujeres, Mexico.

Folks seem to love a gal traveling solo because I couldn't find a minute alone if I tried. Riding an ancient bicycle that my darling beachfront hotel loaned me, I spent my days skittering across the island, slurping down mojitos, slinging back fresh strawberry daiquiri and bellowing out "Hola!" every inch of the way.

Baby Fat--Got Some??

Even though I RARELY eat meat, man...sometimes I have a violent hankering for a juicy, greasy, cheesy burger.  I can just be driving along, happy as a clam, and out of nowhere...BAM! I'm practically ready to straight  murder someone if I don't get my hands on some ground beef.  Fatburger in LA has the perfect solution for someone like me...it's called the Baby Fat.  I mean, just stone cold brilliant.  Look at that thing...all wet with mayo on a super soft bun.  The cheese is proper American (none of that cheddar or swiss mess for me) and the lettuce crispy as can be.  Why has this not caught on in Chicago?  We are supposed to be the food chiefs, you know?  And, I don't mean those little mini burgers at some of those new restaurants that keep popping up. I mean fast food style, baby.  Today was one of those days where I had insane cravings, but oh no....instead I slammed a half a bag of chocolate chips.It's only a matter of time, I'm certain, before the Baby Fat rolls into Chicago, no?  Until then, I've got my chocos.

Chinatown's Pho 87 in Downtown LA

The day I left LA, I decided to swing thru Chinatown for lunch.  I haven't been in downtown LA for years and years so I was excited to see how tidy and clean the entire area of downtown LA had become--it was awesome, actually.  Big, drooping palm trees hung over all of the freeways and the vibe felt like downtown Chicago (which I was jonesing for like mad). I hit up Hill St. (the main strip in Chinatown) and the first place to catch my eye was actually a Vietnamese restaurant called Pho 87, on the Northern edge of the community.  Since moving to ERP, I've been hitting up Little Vietnam on a weekly basis, so this was the one.  Can I just tell you--THE BEST Vietnamese food ever.  They looked at me like I was crazy when I ordered sugar cane shrimp (chao tom), shrimp fried rice and baby eggrolls. Both the shrimp and the eggrolls came with rice paper that you have to dunk in water to get soft and a big plate full of fresh ingredients that you stuff inside the little homemade packet: fresh mint, fresh basil, big leaves of lettuce, vermicelli noodles, etc...I managed to stuff myself silly before heading to LAX, but now I know where I'll be next time I'm out West~And, seriously...the eggrolls were light as air and so freakin delish--I ate all 8 of them--yikes!

Spice Farms and Cookbooks~

Whilst in Zanzibar (The Spice Island), I toured the most amazing spice farm full of every single spice and herb you can think of: nutmeg, lemongrass, cumin, coriander, ginger, cinnamon, cardamom, turmeric, all five peppers from green to yellow to black, and the list goes on and on.  It was utterly astonishing to taste all of these exotic little creatures straight off the tree or ground and see them in their original form--not just tumbling out of a dusty bottle.  After spending all day in the blazing heat traipsing around the farm, you hit up this tiny little booth where they've set up little packets of spices for sale (and they give you a full taste test of the most colorful fruits in the world).  Of course, I brought my entire spice booty home and when I got back to Chi, I got all new glass containers for them and loaded down my cabinets with the freshest spices from half way across the world.  I then remembered this book that I'd bought last summer~Spice: Flavors of the Eastern Mediterranean (which I'd not cracked open since purchasing).  But...what a perfect combo.  Spices straight off the farm in Z'bar and a glorious tomb that separates every chapter by specific spice.  Needless to say, I was up all night last night plotting and planning the dishes I'm gonna make with my new spices.  Somehow over the past few months, I've come to the point where I care about food enough that I want to get back to cooking it, not just showcasing it.  That's a pretty bold statement coming from a girl who lives in a city with every type of delicious food in the world. I blame it all on my amazingly cute new kitchen...it just does something to me and makes me wanna cook!
*Did you know that only the government can export cloves in Zanzibar? Not the farmer....so careful what you read about artisan cloves and all that 'straight-from-the-farm' lingo...
*And, also most of the time, when people are selling you "saffron" for a mere couple of bucks...it's probably the much cheaper lookalike safflower. A couple of folks in my cooking class in Bali got suckered in the market and we all had a big, big laugh at them (could you imagine, the worlds most expensive spice retailing for a few bucks in a market in Bali or in Zanzibar?)--it's a shady world out there, man....

All the Best Veggies in the World

I'm convinced that South Africa has some of the tastiest veggies in the world.  I happened across a super-cute little restaurant while there called Scoosi that made the most intensely delish vegetable plate.  Everything was cooked so perfectly and all the flavors melded together so well---soft chickpeas, roasted zucchini, dense mushrooms, tomatoes, fresh pesto, olive oil, a tiny hit of sweet balsamic and the creamiest feta cheese ever---and then when you get tot he middle, there is a fantastic little surprise of caramelized onions.  It was so stunning, it just made me think again how meat was just a nuisance. Since moving last week into my new home in Chi, I was thinking I'd have a minute to try to recreate the dish in my cozy little kitchen.  Ahhh, to no avail.  I've been working like mad trying to get out the door to South Africa (yes, going again for 5 weeks-- YEAH!!!!) and I've eaten out multiple times at Hai Yen (awesome Vietnamese) and La Unica-you must have the Cuban tamale (those two are 100% my new favorite restaurants right now).  Good thing is, I will be back to S. Africa in a few days, so I can have the dish firsthand...but I can't wait to come home in Jan. and give this one a go.  So much to cook, explore and write about within my new digs.   It's just good stuff, you know?

Glass Pots of Creamy Yogurt = Adulthood

There is almost nothing in the entire world more civilized than a glass pot of yogurt.  I first got addicted to them when I spent some time in a small village in France and since have fallen in love with Greek Fage yogurt (they come in plastic containers with a little honey pouch on the side) BUT every day whilst in South Africa, I would dive into the free b'fast my hotel had and grab one of these little jars of peach or strawberry yogurt.  You'd never believe that a glass jar could make you feel like a million bucks, but I'm telling you, there is no way I could go back to eating out of plastic again.  As much as I love my Fage, it's all glass for me--all the time.  Weird, I know...but I guess it just comes with age~~

Red Bull Gelato~~Just a Crime if you ask me!

The South Africans have taken wild energy to a whole new level with Red Bull gelato.  Who ever would have thought to toss some Bull into a big fat pile of ice cream?  I seriously could not bring myself to buy a Red Bull cone (I can only take my addiction so far without buggin' out), but I did take a lickin' off a pal of mines dessert of choice.  It really tasted of frozen Red Bull and nothing else. This crazy, mind-spinning drink has totally taken over the world it seems...one continent at a time. I'm very scared of where it will show up next. Grossed out and scared at the same time....yikes!

A Wee Food Tour with My Parents & a Dog

Keeping company with my parents has always been one of my ultimate joys. Like me, they're always up for a good adventure and can turn an absolutely dreary situation (like a daughter being sick) into the best of times. So when I told them I was practically on my deathbed last weekend, they jumped in the car (puppy in tow) and hauled up from the mountains of Tennessee.
The timing couldn't have been more perfect, it being my first full weekend off in what seems like decades. Ill as I was, I had big plans for Mom, Dad and pup Pearlie Mae, and they all involved food.

There was only one problem...the doggie. If Pearlie couldn't roll, then neither could they. This slight inconvenience only meant one thing: Everything we did had to be on the fly, picked up to go or delivered. Let the eating fest begin.

Skip the Grocery Store and Go Mad Local

When you travel and travel right, you crawl into the belly of a nation.  I love heading to the furtherest reaches I possibly can just so I can witness how other people live, eat and exist.  But, especially how they interpret food.  One mans pile of weeds is another mans dinner and instead of picking and choosing from a variety of perfect vegetables in a gleaming Whole Foods grocery store, I might have to buy some fruit and herbs off the back of a sputtering moped--and don't you know it will be the most exotic and delicious thing I've ever come across each time. 'Round the world, food is sold from small ramshackle shacks, out of the back of dusty pick up trucks, off the sides of slow-poke donkeys, out of brightly flowing tents and yes, straight off the tail end of a loaded down moped.  Pending on the part of the world you're in, you might find piles of just-picked earthy mushrooms, bowls of fresh stem-still-on olives, plastic baggies full of wild gooseberries, paper bags loaded down with ruby red salak fruit, or crates full of emerald green long beans--each fresher than the next.  No matter where I find myself, I'm always tracking down the tucked away solo vendor with the warm eyes; fresh food and a slow smile make up for a silly old language barrier any day~

Cradle of Flavor~New Book With Food From The Spice Islands

The very best food that I have ever had in the entire world was in Bali.  You've not really eaten until you've sampled street food down the back alleys of the tiny villages in Bali.  I've craved the meals I devoured there ever since I got back earlier this year and I just got this awesome new travelogue/cookbook in the mail.  This writer and food lover James Oseland traveled all over South East Asia for years watching home cooks whip up every special meal they've spent lifetimes perfecting.  Everything from nasi goreng to wild spinach (essentially weeds from rice patties), the treats coming out from this book are in a word-awesome.  There are also fantastic photos of all the herbs, spices and exotic ingredients they use over in that part of the world with great descriptions.  I'm definitely heading back to that part of the world very soon...once it gets in your blood, there is no other escape like it~

Global Travel and The Curious Cook

It's not until I travel that I begin to understand the origin of food.  Every time I come home from a trip abroad, it seems I can better comprehend my cookbooks, my recipes and all the foreign objects I come across in ethnic grocery stores.  When I travel, I peek deep into kitchens and soak up the skilled vibe of the chef, no matter if it's a tiny shack on the beach in the Caribbean, where an young woman is kneading coconut bread or if it's an portly old man chain-smoking and whipping up delicious pan con tomato and pans of paella down a back alleyway in Spain.  Once you find food at its source, it begins to take on a whole new spin and recipes, ingredients, herbs and spices become a lot less intimidating.  I'll track down palm sugar and make huge batches of deep red hibiscus tea after sampling it in a cooking class in Bali and after spending time on the Amalfi Coast in Italy, I'll grind loads of basil, pecorino and pinenuts until I have lush green pesto to toss into pasta.  Sojourns to Mexico have me craving coconut shrimp and entire fishes tossed on the grill and after exploring Greece, I've found that there is no octopus like the brilliant purple tendrils enjoyed on the beaches of Paros (though La Cucina di Donatella just south of Evanston has a killer, lemon-kissed version).  Global travel is a way to open up your mouth and quell your curiosity about food--trust me, there's a whole lot more out there than you know.

Cake and Wine

Ever since I've been back from Spain, I've been daydreaming about this dessert from what became one of my favorite late night eateries in the 'hood, Cerveseria Catalana.  It was this homemade rum cake layered with strips of cream and drizzled with caramel and then topped with homemade whipped cream.  Every few nights, I'd make my way over there around 11pm or so (the proper meal time in Spain) and have some cake and sangria with my buddy Mary.  We'd shove down this cake and split a pitcher of yummy sangria's and talk about how friggin' exhausted we were.  Coming home to Chicago put a severe halt on my  6-week dessert bonanza, mostly due to the fact that I can't seem to find the quality (or the availability) that I experienced over in Barcelona.  It's back to Snickers and Chinese take-out cookies for now~~

Global Cooking Club Keeps on Truckin'

I don't really know where the brainstorm came from, but all I know is it was stone brilliant. My hardcore foodie pal Lisa and I had decided we wanted to start a global cooking club this summer and completely eat our way around the world right in our own backyards. Once we committed to our decision (commitment is a toughie for girls like us) it was as simple as alerting the posse. Within 24 hours, we had 15 or so equally excited family and friends ready to come on out to share food from our first pick-from-the-hat: the insanely meat-lovin' country of Argentina.

Starting the club was easy-as-pie, with very little rules. Every month we would draw a more "exotic" country, steering clear of popular food havens like Italy, France or Mexico. The host-of-the-month supplies the indigenous liquor of the country, as well as a main course, and every guest brings a native dish: appetizer, entree or dessert. You could also BYOB if you didn't like the liquor being supplied. Menu updates went out once per week all the way up 'til the final menu before the dinner (that way there weren't six empanadas showing face).

Indian Gurb in Barcelona~{From The Raving Dish}

It's not until I'm knee-deep in a foreign country that I comprehend just how much I love Indian food. Every time I travel (especially to Europe), it seems that just around the time I finally grow weary of lemony tendrils of purple octopus, I start to daydream about pawing up heaping handfuls of fluffy rosewater-scented basmati rice; and just when I think I would pass out if I ate another tendril of slippery pasta, I catch a whiff of nutmeg and coriander kissed-chicken on the bone and feel like I could possibly eat again.

Sangria and Paella in Spain~From The Raving Dish

I have spent the past month eating my way through sun-splashed Barcelona. When I first arrived, I had weekends off and was able to tackle menus full of spicy Indian food and vats of tasty fried rice at every "Chinos" restaurant I happened upon. Now every day come lunch time, when I can finally escape from the throes of the hectic production office, I make my way up and down the tree-lined avenues of the this foodie haven.

I skip back to the office with a bounty of delicious treats after each adventure: a smattering of flaky pastries and chocolate tarts from Paul, the best French bakery in the world (yep, in Spain), or the delicious mozzarella and zucchini focaccia from Buenas Migas, an ingenious focacceria on the north side. But my true daily craving is for huge panfuls of paella and icy-cold pitchers of sangria.

Exploring the Streets of Barcelona

After all these weeks spent in Spain, I have developed some hardcore favorite haunts.  On the weekends, I love rummaging through the flea market, drinking minty Moroccan green tea and munching on honey drenched pastries; I love, love, love eating huge bowl after bowl of creamy seafood-filled paella and drinking refreshing pitchers of fruit-filled Sangria; I get wide-eyed with excitement every day when the lunch hour rolls around because that means it's time for a Paul bakery run--to grab mozzarella and tomato sandwiches on black olive bread, a variety of tarts and blue cheese and pesto pasta salad; I treat myself to a few cortados and a scrambled egg and cheese sandwich on french bread smeared with tomato every few days; and more than anything, I love exploring my favorite neighborhood El Ravel and sampling fantastic Indian food, Chinese food, Pakistani food and downright delicious pizza.  But, I will say--I can't wait to get back to the states and CHOW on Mexican food--haven't found much of that here and could use an icy margirita or three.

Latin Sandwich Cafe {From The Raving Dish}

It's the small spots with simple names that always snare me, and the Latin Sandwich Cafe is a prime example. Located on Elston Avenue, the unassuming Chilean restaurant is the kind of off-the-grid place that always made me pause when I drove by, mostly due to the creativity-free name. It's really as simple as "The Latin Sandwich Cafe." Done and done.

The casual name stuck in my head all the same, and when I heard the swirling rumors about how fantastic the food was, I finally mustered up a free afternoon to go explore the menu.

Green Food in Spain--Are You Out There???

After happily devouring my hundredth flaky croissant today, I stopped dead in my tracks wondering exactly what vegetables I have consumed in the past three weeks? Sars to letcha know, not too many.  Spain just really isn't a place where I can say I've eaten healthy (Bali on the other hand is a whole different story).  If I did a play by play of my various meals, they seem to be loaded with cheese, every form of bread, cream, octopus, chocolates, gelato, vino, paella,  cherries, yogurt, strawberries, granola, grapes, pizza, crepes, fried rice, cortados, and the random speckling of salads (very few).  So, now what I am going to attempt to do for my next 3 weeks here is explore the healthy side of Spain---starting with brilliant  stalks of asparagus from my favorite restaurant so far, Cerveceria Catalana.  These perfectly cooked vegetables are by far one of the best things I've put in my mouth since arrival and SO SIMPLE.  They're just cooked up in some olive oil and then tossed with a bit of sea salt.  Done and done.  Stay tuned for more green news--if it is to be found, I will track it down~~

Vino Blanco and Chokes in Poble Sec

I never knew that marinated artichokes and white wine could make me so happy.  Here in sunny Spain, the vino blanco runs a mere $1.25 euro per glass and it's quite easy to fuel up on several glasses come eating time.  One of my favorite hoods, Poble Sec, has these tiny seafood bars that whip out all seafood-style tapas and the one I discovered had the best marinated artichokes I've ever had.  They were doused in vinegar and went nicely with my wine, and I was gonna order a plate of shrimp to go with them, but after a bite of the chokes, I had to have a few more.  I sat in the outdoor cafe for hours drinking wine, nibbling on artichokes and watching the little kiddies at the next table chow down on little slivers of anchovies.  It's a very different way of eating here and I love it.  Def. my favorite part about this country~

Foot Long Scrambled Egg Sandwiches

What I miss most about my  life in Chicago is egg sandwiches.  This nifty concoction is dinner for me two or three nights out of the week and I love my eggs scrambled, tossed on a lightly toasted bun that's been slathered with Hellman's mayo and topped with a thin slice of tomato (only if they're in season, though).  Black pepper throughout, of course.  Here, though, it's a whole other story and the other day, I was finally jammin' out some laundry when I tripped upon this dive bar that was rollin' out some awesome scrambled egg sandwiches.  Thank God!  When I took the first bite, it was like tiny floods of joy in my mouth...I didn't realize how much I'd been craving eggs.  Here, though, the soft scrambled eggs came out in a foot long baguette (the sandwich is called a flauta, ie: "long like a flute") and the toasted bread is smeared with roasted tomato.  Not a lick of mayo or black pepper to be found.  Seriously, though...that sandwich and a steamy cortado was one of my best meals here---for about 3 bones, at that.  I did actually ask for a side of mayo which caused mass confusion in the entire bar and a few minutes later (sandwich half gone) a little wedge of butter showed up at my table. No loss, though--the secret is the roasted tomato that's rubbed on the bread.  Great tip for someone who should ease up on the mayo~~

A Bakery Called Paul

Right around the corner from my hotel is THE bakery of all bakeries.  It's simply titled Paul and I can tell you that after weeks of wandering every side street, dark gangway, and narrow alley in this city, this is the place I have been looking for.  The first time I entered, I had to turn around and walk right out because I was so overwhelmed with joy (no kidding, I was literally panting).  Every single item in the cases were hard-core homemade (for some reason a lot of pastries here look like what you'd find at a regular old grocery store in the states)--oh, but not Paul.  The cakes, cookies, pies, breads, and pastries look like something a brilliant home cook would whip together (like a Spanish Sweet Mandy B's).  Everything flies out of the cases like hot cakes and the locals line up by the handfuls, choking the tiny space with their wide-eyes.  I love it all~

Pizzas L'avia in El Ravel--Paella for 4.20 euro

One of my favorite foods in the entire world is that glorious Spanish dish called paella...and I have found the ultimate version down a tiny back alley in the La Ravel neighborhood.  I was strolling through the very ethnic (Indo/Pak mostly) 'hood this weekend (I'm feeling like I was in the equivalent of The Red Light District in Amsterdam) and happened to get a glance of this steaming hot dish being brought out of the kitchen of a small, very rustic eatery.  Thank God for peripheral vision, no?  Of course I had to try it (I was actually on my way to the port to have paella at one of my favorite restaurants I discovered on my last trip here, but this was just far to tempting).  Anyway, I grabbed a small, wobbly table in back (always gotta go off-radar) and proceeded to order a just-baked spinach empenada, a huge platter of this seafood, chicken and pork paella and a ridiculously delicious creme Catalan with piles of whipped cream for about 7 euros TOTAL.  Totally the best deal I have come across all over town and it turns out this little eatery is one of the oldest pizzerias in town.  They had wood-fired pizzas, a hodge-podge of homemade desserts (oddly enough, that is hard to come by here), various meat and vegetable dishes, pans of pasta and gigantic slabs of crusty bread on display and I only wish this very special place was closer to my hotel.  Truly a find--I'm just so at home in restaurants like this--not a tourist in site, you know?
Pizzas L'avia
C/ la Cera 33

Polleria Urgell and Chicken Memories

In almost every foreign city I travel to, I always happen across a chicken house.  Here, they're called Polleria's and I found a doozie of one over in the Poble Sec area.  I'm not usually a chicken eater, but when I tumble across a dive like this, I have to imbibe (I've done the same in France, Greece, Mexico and Italy).  Polleria Urgell has been slinging out juicy, slow-roasted chicken since 1965 and it's about the only thing they sell.  On any given day, you might find a batch of potatoes, onions and peppers that have been cooking in the dripping chicken fat at the bottom of the slow-roaster (usually, these containers are gone by midday, though--and there is definitely another greedy soul waiting to snatch these if you don't act quick) or a small selection of salads, but the jaw dropping material (the chickens themselves) are on constant rotation throughout the day and make for a fantastic dinner (especially when you stuff bite-sized tears of tender meat between a soft croissant and devour whilst on a wide terrace overlooking a beautiful Spanish avenue watching the sun disappear).  That night of chicken bliss has been my one and only meat-based meal and it was totally worth it~

Churros of the Gods~

One of the most joyful things about traveling is discovering the local street food.  It differs everywhere in the world, but here it's mostly about all things sugary and sweet.  There is a fantastic bakery near my hotel that has the most delicious little churros on the planet.  Multiple batches are made every day and the ones just out of the oil pot are absolutely addictive.  They're about a finger-long and sprinkled with a handful of sugar.  I get them by the half dozen and try to make it back to my room with still a few in tact, but no such luck.  They usually devoured before I even hit the next block, bumping blindly into folks the whole way.  No churros in the states match these and I especially love that they're wrapped in thick paper--it soaks up a whole lot of the grease,but leaves behind just enough to make them illegally mouthwatering~

Grilled Tomato Bread w/ Olive Oil y Garlic

One of the best things I have ever put into my mouth is the simple dish of grilled french bread smeared with tomato, garlic and olive oil.  It's a staple on most menus here and can be found in even the nicest of restaurants.  What could be more appealing that a toasted slab of bread that's drenched in extra virgin olive oil and literally hand-smudged with a tomato/garlic jam that's been marinating half the day.  It's always made to order and I've managed to make a meal out of this mouthwatering dish several times this week.  Toss in a glass of vino and you've got a match made in heaven.  Actually, make that--toss in a big batch of freshly-caught prawns, a small bowl of tart olives, a couple of chunks of thick Manchego--now that's what I'm talking about~

Banana Pancakes at Warjihouse, Ubud

I have figured out the perfect way to travel (for me at least).  When I was in Bali, I stayed in extremely charming homestays.  They're basically tiny bungalow style rooms in a very lush, traditional Balinese compound (one where the owner is well tucked away, but always close by when you need them).  My favorite was Warjihouse, in the village of Ubud (my room with veranda and two beds, pictured right).  I loved staying there for most of my days in Ubud and it was only $10 bucks a night (with breakfast included).  Nyoman, the adorable fella who runs it, would cook me the most amazing omelette's with buttered toast in the morning, or if I felt like it, a delicious crispy banana pancake doused in honey.  Everything came with a huge platter of fruit and there was always a thermos of tea on the small table on my veranda.  Staying here allowed me to integrate myself into the community and meet all sorts of locals AND I saved a ton of dough.  I got very accustomed to waking up at about 3 am, heading out to my veranda, slamming a whole thermos of tea and watching the sun rise. So, I stayed at Warjihouse for many nights and made like a local, then the way to do it is to upgrade to a bad-ass room at some MAD luxurious hotel on the last couple of nights.  I chose to chill at Uma, one of the most incredible hotels I've ever stayed in (very small, very luxe boutique hotel in Ubud).  This way, I got to dive into the way of life in Bali and then I got to leave feeling like a rock star.  That's the way I'm gonna roll from here on out in all my travels.  You just get the best of both worlds.

Casa Luna Cooking School--Best Deal in Ubud

I am always on the hunt for totally affordable cooking classes.  Sadly, there aren't too many in Chicago (really, the only cheapie one I know of is the $15, two-hour vegetarian one at Lake Side Cafe), therefore I am usually delegated to crazy attempts at pulling entire ethnic menus together in the confines of my own kitchen--and sometimes it's a good thing when not a soul witnesses my madness.  I did however, discover the most wonderful cooking class in Bali.  It's at this amazing restaurant in Ubud called Casa Luna Cooking School and it's one of the best deals in town (though you can find others for $15-$20). At this one though, $25 bucks gets you a five-hour cooking class complete with two full-blown meals and a guided market tour.  Totally brilliant---why not have something like that in Chicago?  I would be signing up every week.  Anyway, at Casa Luna we topped off the afternoon of cooking with a most delicious dessert called Dadar Unti.  They were little buttery green pancakes (colored green from the essence of pandan leaf) that were stuffed with freshly shredded coconut and oodles of palm sugar.  Of course, I had several of them and when washed down with a glass of ice-cold, super-sweet hibiscus tea---holy moly!  I haven't made them yet (but I will), but I have mastered hibiscus tea since I've been back--all I can think about is hibiscus margaritas and hibiscus tea smoothies--which are quite refreshing, by the way~

Salak--Better Known as Snake Fruit

One of the most wonderful treats I came across in Bali was a bizarre fruit called SALAK.  Westerners call it snake fruit and it's this mild mix between a Fuji apple (the crispness) and pineapple (the exoticness)....the flavor that is.  They are a species of the palm tree (so much good stuff comes from this tree, I swear!) What you do is peel the fruit and there are these small bulbs in there that look like garlic and you just simply chomp them down.  I bought my first batch in the seaside village of Padang Bai and I had no idea what they were.  I somehow just got coerced into buying a kilo of them (.40 cents) and the woman showed me how to peel 'em and pop 'em.  I was immediately addicted.  I would love to know where I can get them in Chicago---if I can get them in Chicago.  They are indigenous to Bali, though and I just cannot imagine some local vendor stocking them.  Shoot me an email if I'm wrong, please; maybe somebody in town has pulled a fast one and figured out a way to export these little monkeys.

Kafe Batan Waru in Ubud, Bali, Indonesia: One of the Best~

I know that I am still raving about Bali, but it will be some time before I get over the flavors of that tropical outpost.  One of my favorite little eating establishments was a super-cute restaurant called Kafe Batan Waru.  It is perched just down from the football field in picturesque Ubud and one of the best dishes I had (I would order about 5 entrees at a time--they were only a few bucks each and I needed to sample them all) was a wild spin on dumplings, called Buntil Sayuran.  It was basically soft cassava leaf dumplings stuffed with tempeh, sweet potatoes and corn, and then it's smothered in a sweet coconut gravy.  It was totally delicious.  The cafe is open to all the street elements and one afternoon I sat facing the quiet avenue and a pounding rain came down.  There is nothing like watching the rainfall in Bali and I was so happy, chilling with my table full of beautiful food and listening to the rain.  Stuffed...but happy~

Spinach Tempura and the Cost of Living in America

Now that I'm back on US soil (from Indonesia), I'm having a really tough time figuring out what to eat.  Not that there aren't tons of options all over Chicago, but it's just that NOTHING is comparing with the food I had in Bali.  Everyday was a mad discovery full of insanely fresh seared tuna ($4), gigantic tempura spinach leaves (pictured left)--which were one of the best things I have ever tasted and dished up as a freebie at one of my Ubud haunts, The Nomad--then there were the banana crepes/pancakes smothered in honey, the cottage cheese pancakes dripping with berry compote, the braised fish with lemongrass and ginger, the whole red snappers left and right ($2-3), the white eggplant covered in spicy chile sauce, the wildly flavorful peel-and-eat snake fruit, and the eating just went on and on and on.   And, so now I'm faced with the not so appealing take on fruit and veggies that America seems to have called "fresh" and I'm sorely disappointed each way I turn.  I'm now about to get nutty on all my cookbooks and see if I can recreate some of the fantastic finds I discovered over there---cuz, if not...I'm gonna have to head back real soon~
**Though I did slam down a tempeh blue burger at Kopi the other day, that is indeed still delish!

Back From Bali with Loads of Goods (All Food Related, Of Course)

I literally just arrived home in Chicago from the most incredible 2-weeks in Bali.  I have a new favorite destination and of course, right when I walked in the door (with NOTHING in the fridge), I whipped out my new favorite treat: a huge brick of palm sugar (concocted from the sap of a palm tree) that I'd hauled about 10,000 miles.  This addictive stuff is like little crystals of caramelized sugar all molded together into the shape of a coconut and you can just shave off a bit to suck on with a sharp knife.  While in Bali, I took a cooking class at Casa Luna ($25 bucks for almost 5-hours of cooking, including a market tour) and learned how to make green banana pancakes stuffed with palm sugar and shredded fresh coconut.  I had to carry home about a 14-lb wedge of the stuff after tasting that dish.  I will dissect Bali in upcoming posts, but this I can say right now--never, ever in all my travels have I tasted such exquisite food--from the mysterious mountains to the sweltering coastal villages, every which way I turned was a stomach sensation--I got lots of intel on the food, so more to come once I get some much needed rest (it's a 2-day trip)~A couple of shavings of palm sugar (sometimes called jaggery) and I am O-U-T!

A Week in the Life of a Food Writer {From The Raving Dish}

This has been an absolutely insane week of eating. It's almost ludicrous to think of what entered my belly in the past seven days. I started and ended my week with a fire-blistered, tomato smeared, thin-crust pizza at Spacca Napoli, 1769 W. Sunnyside Ave. Not only is the pizza incredible and the cappuccino out of this world, but the owner, Jonathan, treats each table with care (even joining in a much-needed limoncello shot). But that was just the bookends. Here's what a week in the life of a food writer looks like:

In the span of seven days, I managed to try several new restaurants, Cornerstone Cafe among them. A sunny breakfast/lunch spot, I waltzed in after it had been open four scant days. Though the kitchen has a few kinks to work out, the thick, made-to-order oatmeal (served with heavy whipping cream and brown sugar) and fluffy pancakes are worth going back for (as I did with friends on Saturday). It's like your grandma's warm country kitchen, but with a suspended flat-screen TV instead of a static-emitting radio.

A Week of Belly Debauchery

This week, I ate out no less than ten times--more, I'm sure.  I had a bunch of bar and restaurant reviews due to various editors and it was a busy week stuffing my face.  I will say I enjoyed cuisine from all over the world, including new treats from Laos, Vietnam, Tunisia, Mexico, Italy, Thailand, Japan and the good old USA.  Though it was a dandy week for my belly, I'm about to get on a new eating program--hardcore.  I simply must start cooking at home once again.  I had made this dish the other night--so simple and delicious.  Mozzarella and parmesan cheese smothered polenta with a homemade tomato sauce and some lovely buttered shrimp with fresh basil and chunks of fresh garlic.  Seriously, it is rare that I find a dish this fulfilling when I eat out and it cost me far less.  I don't even want to think about how many dollars went into my tummy this week.  Stay tuned for all the glorious details of my new restaurant discoveries, and in the meantime...make something at home.  Or, am I the only one with this problemo?

Ropa Vieja in Nicaragua--Oh, How I Love the Cubans

Yes!  I'm still mad with joy over my foodie discoveries in Nicaragua.  I bombarded this tiny island, Little Corn Island, expecting nothing but deeply rustic Nicaraguan food, and instead I found rock-solid Italian (at Farm Peace and Love) and incredible Cuban (there was some pretty great Nica/Caribbean in there, as well).  There's an adorable seaside restaurant (outside seating only)