Crepes with zucchini filling

If I start annoying you with my never ending babble about spring vegetables, please do tell. I don't want to become one of those persons that annoy the crap out of me because they keep talking about the same stuff over and over again, repeating themselves until you pass out from boredom. The thing is, I mostly cook for just myself, which means that a bunch of asparagus or a bag of zucchini go a long way. So bear with me as I cook my way through pounds of vegetables. I seriously can't help it. I see a farmer's market and I just lose it and end up buying tons of veggies. I guess it could be worse, though. Right? I could be hoarding expensive shoes. But I don't. I just buy tons of cheap ones. And tons of vegetables. 

CREPES WITH ZUCCHINI FILLING

2 eggs

2 cups of milk

1 cups all purpose flour

Butter

1 small onion

1 zucchini

Olive oil

1/2 chili pepper

2 cups tomato puree

1 garlic clove

A few leaves of fresh basil

Salt and pepper

Mix milk and eggs in a large bowl. Slowly incorporate flour, mixing with a whisk. Season with salt and let rest for 20 minutes.

Finely chop the onion and sautee it in a little olive oil in a large skillet with the crushed chili pepper. Chop zucchini and add to the skillet. Season with salt and pepper and cook, stirring until zucchini is cooked and tender. Process with a food processor until smooth.

Prepare tomato sauce by simmering the tomato puree with a crushed garlic clove, season it with salt and add basil at the end. 

To make crepes, heat a small skillet over medium high heat. Add  teaspoon of butter, let it melt then immediately pour a ladleful of batter in the skillet. Cook for two minutes. Flip. Cook for another minute. Repeat with the rest of the batter.

Fill crepes with pureed zucchini, fold and serve over tomato sauce. 

Five-spice salmon and leeks in parchment

As a child I loathed fish. As a teenager I still loathed it. It took me a 5000 mile move to Florida to get me to like the stuff. Fish in Florida was different. It was delicate and it came with all kinds of fruity sauces.  It tasted of Caribbean vacations and summer nights and drinks at sunset. In other words, it didn't taste like fish at all.

There was one exception though. Salmon. Salmon was the first fish to make it into my plate... or, actually, I should say into my mouth, because there was no actual plate involved. It involved a screaming child, an unprepared set of parents and a smoked salmon sandwich. To this day, every time I see or eat smoked salmon I can't help but thinking about these modern parents I see going everywhere —China, the post office, on a walk— with a bag full of food for their kids. My parents never carried food for me. There was absolutely no eating allowed in the car and, in general, eating in between meals was frowned upon. It will ruin your appetite.

But there was one time where this strategy backfired. Big time. It all happened when I was a toddler a few months short of 2. En route from Milan to the United States my parents and I had a layover in London. And I got hungry. So hungry that I started screaming on top of my lungs. I wanted food. And I wanted it right away. The only option seemed to be a little cart where an old man served smoked salmon over thick, salted butter and brown bread. Not exactly baby food. But, hey, desperate people do desperate things. My dad bought a sandwich and they shoved it in my mouth. I instantly stopped crying. And I ate the whole thing. From that day on, salmon and I were friends. And for about twenty years after that day, salmon was my only friend of the seafood variety.

Later on, I learned to enjoy fresh salmon as well as the smoked kind. I have to thank Tommy for this, because he's the one who made it for me for the first time, baked with a Mexcian style salsa on top. And that was beginning of many other fresh salmon recipes, including this one that my great friend Carolina and I made at her place last week. One last note: if you have never tried wild caught salmon, do so immediately. I cannot stand the farm raised variety and once you'll try the wild kind, you'll never go back either.

FIVE-SPICE SALMON AND LEEKS IN PARCHMENT

(adapted from Cooking Light)
Serves 4

2  teaspoons  whole fennel seeds
8  whole black peppercorns
2  whole cloves
1  whole star anise
1  (1 1/2-inch) cinnamon stick
4  (6-ounce) skinless salmon fillets
1/2  teaspoon  salt
1  leek, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced (about 1 cup)

Preheat oven to 425°.
Combine first 5 ingredients in a small skillet over medium heat; cook for 1 minute or until fragrant. Transfer toasted spices to a spice grinder or coffee grinder; grind until fine.
Cut 4 (12-inch) squares of parchment paper. Place 1 fillet in center of each square. Sprinkle evenly with salt and spice mixture; top fillets evenly with leeks. Fold paper; seal edges with narrow folds. Place packets on a baking sheet. Bake at 425° for 20 minutes or until puffy and lightly browned. Place on plates; cut open. Serve immediately.

Farro with porcini mushrooms and pancetta

Day 2 of spring. While the weather gets better and better, I'm sorry to report that my allergies have completely taken over my life. Last night my eyes got so puffy I couldn't even put in my contacts this morning. So on top of the general feeling of discomfort that has affected me for the past few days, I am now also blind as a bat. Ok. That's a slight exaggeration since I'm only -1.50 on each eye, but still. When you are used to wearing contacts and seeing perfectly, not being able to do either thing drives you insane. And before you all tell me to wear my glasses instead, here's a dirty little secret about me: I never bought them because, I figured, why have glasses when contacts are so much better? Sheer genius, I know.

Anyway, the point is I needed some comfort food to make me smile after a whole day of sneezing every ten seconds, so I decided why not farro? It's easy, it's cheap and it's good for you. Farro is one of the most ancient cereals known to men and it's a staple in many central and southern Italian regional cuisines —it's also low in fat and sugars and high in fiber, which are only some of the reasons why I've been preparing it so often lately. It also happens to be cheap, not to mention the fact that is good cold, hot, prepared as a dry dish or in soups. Seriously, what's not to like?

Last night I decided to make it warm, with porcini, pancetta and roasted pinenuts —mostly because I had all the ingredients on hand and the recipe on the Barilla farro box sounded really yummy. I'm usually not one to make recipes found on boxes, but let me tell you: this one was delicious. And comforting. And easy. It was all that I needed after the sneeze-fest that was my day yesterday.

FARRO WITH PORCINI AND PANCETTA

Serves 4

9 ounces quick-cooking farro
2 ounces dried porcini mushrooms
4 ounces minced pancetta or bacon
2 ounces pinenuts
1 small red onion, minced
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
EVOO
salt and pepper

Get porcini ready by soaking them in warm water for about 20 minutes and then shopping them. Warm up olive oil in a large skillet, add pancetta, porcini and onion and sautee for a couple of minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Toast pine nuts by cooking them on high in the microwave for 4 minutes.

Cook the farro in abundant salted water, drain and add to the skillet with other ingredients. Sautee for a minute, stirring constantly. Top with roasted pine nuts and serve.

Spring vegetable risotto

 

Happy first day of spring, everyone! It's a gorgeous sunny day here on Lake Lugano and the forecast calls for more beautiful, warm days ahead. Other than the fact that I'm suffering from pollen allergies —my eyes are so puffy right now it looks like someone has beaten me— I couldn't be happier to enter the new season. While I lived in Florida I missed the winter —real, snowy, cold winters that is— but I have to be honest, this year when February rolled around I had had enough of it. I was ready for spring. So when I woke up today and I saw the sun shining in the sky and felt the air warm on my face, I took a deep breath, sneezed a couple of times and then smiled to myself. Spring is officially here.

And what better way to celebrate than cooking up some delicious spring vegetables? I had bought some wonderful asparagus, baby green peas and spring onions. I had a million ideas going through my mind at once. Savory pies. Pasta. Terrines. Soups. And then I decided. Risotto. I tend to consider risotto a winter dish because of its rich creaminess and comfort-food potential, but then again that's just one of my crazy notions most people don't understand or agree with. So why not make risotto with spring vegetables? I had never tried, but spring is all about rebirths and god knows how much I need a rebirth right now. So here it goes. If you have never made risotto before, make sure you follow the directions very carefully and make sure you have 20 minutes to dedicate to the risotto, because you can't just leave it there, cooking. Risotto is a needy dish, so give it your undivided attention —it's definitely worth it.

SPRING VEGETABLE RISOTTO

Serves 4

11 ounces Arborio or Carnaroli rice (short grain)
a glass of dry white wine
1 spring onion, minced
a pot of piping hot good quality vegetable stock
1 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 tablespoon of butter

8 ounces asparagus, washed, trimmed and cut into bitesize pieces
2 spring onions, chopped
4 ounces baby green peas
1 package saffron
1/2 cup heavy cream
a dollop of butter
salt and pepper

Prepare the veggies: melt a dollop of butter in a large skillet, add two chopped spring onions, let it saute for 30 seconds, then add asparagus, season with salt and pepper and let cook for 10 minutes, adding a little stock every now and then so that the vegetables don't stick to the pan. Add peas and cook for another 10 minutes. In the meantime, mix cream with saffron. When the vegetables are cooked, add cream mixture, stir well and cook on high heat for a few seconds, then remove from stove, cover and keep warm.

Prepare the risotto: in a cast iron dutch oven melt one tablespoon of butter, add minced spring onion and cook it until translucent, stirring constantly. Add rice. Let it toast on the bottom of the pan for a few seconds, then add wine and let it evaporate. Add a couple of ladles of stock, stir well and continue cooking it until stock has evaporated. Add one ladle of stock, stir and cook until evaporated. Repeat this step until rice is cooked (but not overcooked!), about 15 minutes. Remove from heat. Add cheese and veggie mixture, stir well, cover and let it rest for a couple of minutes. Serve immediately.

Fish Provencal

                                       

I have not fallen off the edge of the Earth like some of you have kindly asked through e-mail and Facebook. I've not been crazy busy either, unless you count stalking a certain semi-famous Italian hip hop artist "being busy". Most people would call it acting like a teenager, I guess, and I don't blame them. That's exactly what I was doing. Because sometimes it's easier and it's definitely more fun than acting all grown up. It also makes you forgot about the rut you are in, if you know what I mean. I had such great expectations for 2011 and so far it hasn't really been that great of a year. Especially when it comes to finances. Being unemployed is killing me and, unfortunately, it greatly reflect on my cooking. I don't mean to sound like a big crybaby, but as I'm typing I'm drinking instant coffee and for lunch I'm going to have a homemade cream of cannellini bean (without the shrimp the recipe calls for), because that's all I can afford right now. 

This fish Provençal is the last "luxurious" recipe I've made a few days ago, before I had to start eating out of my pantry and paring up the most incredible foods (hello canned red kidney beans and ricotta!). It's a very easy, very gratifying dinner to make, although next time I will definitely pan sear the fish before putting it together with the sauce so it gets all nice and browned. Other than that, Cooking LIght has once more nailed a great recipe.

FISH PROVENCAL

From Cooking Light

• 1  tablespoon  olive oil
• 2  garlic cloves, sliced
• 2 1/2  cups  slivered onion
• 1/2  teaspoon  salt, divided
• 2  cups  chopped peeled plum tomato (about 4 tomatoes)
• 1 3/4  cups  thinly sliced fennel bulb (about 1 small bulb)
• 1  cup  dry white wine
• 1/3  cup  chopped fresh basil
• 1/4  cup  chopped pitted kalamata olives
• 1  tablespoon  tomato paste
• 1/8  teaspoon  crushed red pepper
• 2  teaspoons  capers
• 1  bay leaf
• 1/2  cup  water
• 1/8  teaspoon  black pepper
• 6  (6-ounce) halibut or cod fillets

Preheat oven to 450F.

Heat oil in a large ovenproof skillet over medium-high heat, and add garlic. Cook 30 seconds, stirring constantly; add onion and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add tomato and next 8 ingredients (tomato through bay leaf); cook for 10 minutes. Stir in water. 

Sprinkle 1/4 teaspoon salt and black pepper over fish; place fish on top of onion mixture. Wrap handle of skillet with foil; cover and bake at 450° for 10 minutes or until fish flakes easily when tested with a fork. Discard bay leaf.  

Spring's bounty: spring vegetables recipes

I don't care what the calendar says. Although we have to wait until the equinox, March 21st, to officially say that spring has started, I think that we are free to feel as if it has started already given the beautiful weather we have been having here on Lake Lugano.  High temperatures have been in the high 50s and low 60s, the sun has been shining for the most part, and there's definitely something in the air that screams "spring's here, wake up people!"

I noticed this —actually I noticed the opposite of it— happening in September, when summer was quickly giving way to the fall. I remember noticing how locals embraced the last days of warm weather, the end-of-summer parties, the celebrations. And now that winter is pretty much over, I see them celebrating again, which puts me in a great mood. I knew I missed the alternating of the seasons when I lived in Florida, but I hadn't realized how much. It dawned on me the other day when I saw how much everyone in town was enjoying sitting outside the cafe', sipping coffee and drinks, unbuttoning their jackets as they soaked up the sunlight. So I followed suit. I unbuttoned my coat and sat with a couple of old men and played cards with them while they told me how they could feel the beginning of spring in their bones. 

Don't get me wrong, the trees still look like it's winter and there's no flowers blooming around. But there is further proof that the new season is upon us and said proof can be found at the market. No matter if it's a farmers' market or a grocery store, you can tell —mostly by the price— what's fresh and in season. Asparagus, broccoli, Brussel sprouts, artichokes, cauliflower, spinach, fennel, leeks. Stuff that not only is good for you, but is also delicious. Except for artichokes, which I loathe, but are still good for you. 

So here's a little collection of recipes that showcase spring's bounty. Some of them are from a long time ago, so please excuse the poor photo quality.

MOCK CREAM OF CAULIFLOWER: Let's start with a recipe that is incredibly good for you. First of all because, as the title suggests, it doesn't really have cream in it, so it's light and easy to digest. Second, it's extremely good for you. When you put together cauliflower and turmeric you give yourself a very powerful anti-cancer boost and we all know that's always a plus. The third thing that makes this a very-good-for-you recipe is that is extremely low in fat, so if you are on a diet or you're still trying to fight off some of that holiday weight (I know I am) this is a great way to feel satisfied without eating unnecessary calories. A win-win situation, right? 

"ITALIAN FLAG" MAHI MAHI: There's nothing truly Italian about this mahi recipe, but if you look at the result the dish has the colors of the Italian flag, hence the name. The green on the bottom is a spicy broccoli puree which goes well with the fish, but is also very good on its own. When I was growing up I wasn't a big fan of broccoli, mostly because of their consistency. I now like them, but at first I would only eat them if they were pureed. What a pain in the ass, I know. The truth is, I still prefer them pureed, although I might be the only person over the age of 12 to admit it. 

BRUSSEL SPROUTS WITH PECANS: I know it sounds crazy, but believe me when I say that this recipe is more than just worth trying. It's freaking delicious —and this comes from someone who a couple of years ago would have never put the words 'brussel sprouts' and 'delicious' in the same paragraph, let alone in the same sentence. And if bitterness is what you are worried about, don't be. This dish is not bitter at all. I promise.  

SPRING VEGETABLES SAVORY PIE: This is one of those go-to recipes when you have a ridiculous amount of vegetables dangerously getting old in your fridge. You know you can't eat all of them in one setting, but it also kills you to think that —at the rate you are going— you'll be throwing half of them in the garbage within a couple of days. Solution? Make a savory pie. Buy a refrigerated pie crust, throw in some good quality cheese and a couple of eggs and use up those veggies. This particular one was made with green peas and asparagus, but when it comes to savory pies, the sky is the limit.

ROASTED CAULIFLOWER PASTA BAKE: More cauliflower coming your way! What can I say? After a life long of hatred against the poor vegetable I now adore it and can't get enough of it. I even like steamed cauliflower, for crying out loud. So imagine how much I like when you take it and mix it with cheese and bechamel sauce and pasta and put it in the oven until hot and bubbly...






ORECCHIETTE WITH BROCCOLI: ...and speaking about another pasta recipe that I love and enjoy no matter how many times I eat it, here's the queen recipe for the spring. Orecchiette pasta with broccoli. As you will read in the original post, this isn't my recipe. It's my best friend's father's recipe —and now that she lives on her own it has become her signature dish as well— so I'm just borrowing it. Enjoy, everyone, it doesn't get any more Italian and spring-like than this!

Curried cabbage

This is an entry for Reeni's Saturday Side Dishes. You can check it out here: http://www.cinnamonspiceandeverythingnice.com/

• Cabbage is another one of those ingredients, like cauliflower and broccoli, that I have discovered and incorporated in my life embarrassingly late. And when I say "late" I'm not talking about the 7th grade or my teen years. I'm talking about one or two years ago. I know, right? What the hell is wrong with me? What makes this even worse is that, unlike beets, I don't have any childhood trauma that explains my cabbage loathing. Nobody ever forced me to eat the stuff. My mother never cooked it, therefore I cannot even bitch about the house smelling like cabbage. I just assumed that cabbage —raw or cooked didn't matter— was bad. It had to be bad because it kind of looked like salad to me and, in case I haven't mentioned this before, I don't eat salad. None of it. No exceptions. 
• 
  
• And then one day I was at a friend's house and she had made homemade slaw and wanted my opinion. I tried to tell her that I knew nothing about slaw and that my opinion didn't really count on the subject, but she had people coming over for dinner and was a nervous wreck so I gave in. The slaw was fine. And what was even finer was the fact that raw cabbage didn't taste like salad at all. It was quite an epiphany, I tell you. The next time I went to the grocery store I made another amazing discovery: cabbage was dirt cheap. From that day on I've been making it in a zillion different ways, both raw and cooked. This particular recipe I have found on Cooking Light's website, tweaked it a little bit to my liking and bookmarked under my favorites.
• 
  
• CURRIED CABBAGE
• Adapted from Cooking Light
•    
• 1  tablespoon  vegetable oil
• 1/2  cup  minced shallots
• 2  garlic cloves, minced
• 3  tablespoons  whole-grain Dijon mustard
• 2  tablespoons  curry powder
• 1  teaspoon  ground turmeric
• 12  cups  thinly sliced green cabbage (about 3 pounds)
• 1/4  cup  fat-free, less-sodium chicken broth
• 1/4  cup  apple cider vinegar
• 1/2  teaspoon  salt
• 1/4  teaspoon  black pepper
• Heat oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add shallots and garlic; sauté 2 minutes. Add mustard, curry, and turmeric; cook 1 minute, stirring constantly. Stir in cabbage and remaining ingredients; cook 5 minutes or until tender, stirring frequently.

  
  

Barley and bean soup

So I guess that winter is almost over. Or at least it is over here in Southern Switzerland. I was so looking forward to be spending a "real" winter —with snow, fireplaces and the likes— that the longer and colder part of it flew by without me even noticing. Back in October, I can admit this now, I was a little concerned with the approaching season. After ten years in Florida I wasn't 100% convinced I could make it through without missing a beat, the way I used to go through it when I was a kid or a teenager. Well, I guess I was underestimating myself. November, December and January went by a flash and just like that the snow, the Northern winds and the fog quickly became a thing of the past. It is now almost March —can you believe that?— and, regardless of what old, pessimistic village drones say, the worst is over. Every day the sun shines and high temps are in the low 60s. Excuse me if I'm optimistic and I call it early spring... but it just feels that way.

So with that in mind, I've decided to get wintery food out of my system by cooking a few more wintery dishes before the new month starts. Because March, my friends, means spring and spring means asparagus and broccoli and baby spinach and all that good, green, fresh stuff. So while the temperatures still dip into the 30s at night I've made a big, steaming batch of one of my favorite soups: barley and cannellini beans. It's hearty, but it's not 100% wintery if you ask me. Why? Because it's damn good even cold, that's why.

BARLEY AND BEAN SOUP

Adapted from Cooking Light

• 1  cup  dried cannellini beans
• 1  tablespoon  olive oil
• 2  cups  finely chopped red onion
• 1/4  cup  finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
• 1/2  cup  finely chopped celery
• 1/2  cup  finely chopped carrot
• 1/2  cup  chopped fresh basil
• 9  cups  water
• 2  cups  organic vegetable broth (such as Swanson Certified Organic)
• 2  bay leaves
• 1/3  cup  uncooked pearl barley
• 1/2  teaspoon  salt
• 1/2  teaspoon  freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2  teaspoon  hot sauce
• 2  tablespoons  grated fresh Parmesan cheese

Sort and wash beans; place in a large saucepan. Cover with water to 2 inches above beans; bring to a boil. Cook 2 minutes; remove from heat. Cover and let stand 1 hour. Drain beans. Wipe pan dry with a paper towel.

Heat oil in pan over medium-high heat. Add onion, parsley, celery, carrot, and basil; cook 3 minutes, stirring frequently. Add beans, 9 cups water, vegetable broth, and bay leaves; bring to a boil. Reduce heat, and simmer 1 hour and 15 minutes or until beans are tender. Discard bay leaves.

Place 3/4 cup beans and 3/4 cup cooking liquid in a blender; process until smooth. Return pureed bean mixture to pan. Stir in barley, salt, pepper, and hot sauce; bring to a boil. Reduce heat, and simmer 30 minutes or until barley is done. Ladle soup into individual bowls; sprinkle with cheese.

All-American brunch at California Bakery

When I worked as a food critic at the Naples Daily News my least favorite assignment was writing about Italian restaurants. Being Italian and all, my expectations were so high I easily ended up disappointed. And it wasn't the chefs' fault, most of the time. It was just the ingredients. It was the produce. The water. Even the salt was different. The chefs —the smart and the worldly ones at least— knew it too. Many times, as I was chatting with them while we were both off the clock they would say "I know this dish doesn't taste the same in Italy." And I would nod, because it didn't. And I would feel for them because I encountered that same problem when I cooked the dishes of my childhood in my Southwest Florida kitchen. Nothing tasted exactly the same.

I felt kind of the same way while I was lazily walking downtown Milano towards California Bakery, where my best friend and I were headed for brunch. And it wasn't just a brunch. It was my first "Made in Italy" brunch. I wanted brunch to be good, but I would lie if I said that I wasn't a little apprehensive. Would brunch live up to my very American expectations? Would it be worth the trip and the price tag? I'm happy to say that the answer to both questions is yes. Brunch at California Bakery is enjoyable, tasty and definitely worth a trip downtown.

Brunch is served on Saturdays, Sundays and festivities from 11 a.m. until 5 p.m., so there's no need to rush out of bed on the weekend to get served. Which, if you ask me, is really nice. A six hour brunch also dilutes the people throughout the afternoon, so there's never too much to wait for a table which is also a perk. California Bakery has several locations but, beware, they only serve brunch in three of them: Via Larga 19, Piazza Sant'Eustorgio 4 and Viale Premuda 44, so don't show up at the Largo Augusto store or you'll be disappointed (although you can still sit down and have lunch!) The Via larga store, the one we went to, is not very big, but the two story windows make it airy and bright, the white wooden floors and the green walls infuse the dining room with that peculiar calmness that just screams 'relaxing weekend brunch'.

Back to the food, though. California Bakery offers menu selections that are the closest you''ll  ever get to a true American brunch in Milano, so if you are looking for that all-American experience, this is the place for you. I know because I've looked at more than 20 menus around town and, ladies and gentlemen, I cringed. A lot. What's so difficult about brunch, one might ask? It's a good question. The answer is nothing, if restaurants owners knew what brunch is. Most of them don't and it shows. What they think brunch is, is an aperitivo buffet you serve at noon instead of during cocktail hour.

But that's not the case at California Bakery. No Sir. They know what brunch is and, for the most part, they stay true to American tradition and recipes. Now this will make many of you smile, but tell me that someone in Italy has bagels on their menu and you can bet I'll be practically running to give the place a try. What can I say? Bagels are delicious. Italian love bagels. And yet, they are not readily available, which of course makes them even more delicious in our minds. Because we can't get them.

So as soon as I saw that they had something called the University Plate (about 15 Euros, depending on what bagel or sandwich you choose), a big smile spread on my face. Although the offerings on the menu were plentiful I knew what I was going to have, and it had something to do with bagels and smoked salmon. Predictable? Usually I'm not like that at all, but after ten long months of bagel abstinence I was not going to turn down my favorite breakfast dish.

Because, let's face it, there's a lot to choose from at California Bakery. There's the Healthy Plate, featuring yogurt, granola and a homemade muffin; there's the Chelsea Plate, showcasing a generous slice of the quiche of the day served with mixed greens; and of course there's the more classic East Side Plate —scrambled eggs with bacon, hash browns and either a bagel or multigrain bread. Really, it all comes down to, there's something for everyone at California Bakery, including a Kosher Plate for those who need it. All brunch dishes come with complimentary sides —potatoes either roasted or fried and, a little oddly spinach— a basket of just-out-of-the-oven mixed breads with aromatic butters, a mug of American style coffee and a one liter pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.

Food quality is above average, especially when you look at other restaurants in town that have the nerve to call themselves American. Take it from someone who has lived and eaten enthusiastically in the Unites States for ten years: skip the others and go directly to California Bakery. The Club sandwich will make a big grin spread on your face, and so will the BLAT sandwich —a classic BLT with the addition of avocado.

My bagel was huge. Huge and delicious, stuffed with cream cheese, capers, slices of tomatoes and, of course, smoked salmon. Only one thing would have made it better: not having sesame seeds on it. I'm not a big sesame seed fan, especially when it comes to my bagel, and it would have been nice to know ahead of time —on the menu perhaps?— that tat's the way the bagel was going to be. The pancakes my friend ordered were fluffy and delicious and her eggs over easy were cooked just to perfection, as were the potatoes.

My only complain with California Bakery? The service. Don't go there in a rush because, although there's more than 10 waiters and waitresses working at every given time, they are slow, both to take orders and to deliver them . It's a small price to pay but trust me, if you really want a true American-style brunch head down to California Bakery this weekend. For an hour or so you will feel as if you are sitting somewhere along the Golden State.

Not your usual, canned chicken noodle soup

I was going to call this post "Not your mother's chicken noodle soup", but then I figured that most of you probably have mothers that make theirs from scratch, so I had to abandon the idea. Because this is what this post is about: about being sick and longing for good, comforting soup. And it's also about being too sick to go to Amsterdam with your best friend and realizing how much it sucks to be sick and be by your self. If I had a tag called "pity party" I would definitely file this recipe under it, but I like to think that this is the first and last time I'll need it so, I guess I'll classify it under soup and low fat and call it a day. 


Last Monday when I came home from Stockholm, as I was driving home from the airport, I started feeling a little weird, as in not hungry at all although it was 10 p.m. and I hadn't had anything since lunch. I thought it just had to be the tiredness from all that walking in the cold wind, so when I went home I went straight to bed thinking that would make me feel better. Wrong. It wasn't that I was tired. It wasn't the walking or the wind or all those other things. It was a stomach flu that kept me up most of the night. Last time I had one of those I was traveling through California with my parents and I was 11, so I had no recollection of what kind of medicine and remedies one has to use in these cases. After going through the medicine cabinet, though, I realized that even if I had known everything in that stupid drawer had expired around 1999. My mother calls it "being a healthy family". I called it something else at 5 a.m. while sweating cold sweat and feeling too nauseous to stand, but I won't repeat it here because there might be kids reading this. So Tuesday I still felt under the weather. No more nausea, but my stomach still felt weird. And the weirdest thing of all was that I still wasn't hungry. At all. I sipped on herbal tea and nibble on saltines. I spent the whole day on the couch desperately trying to make myself feel better. The next day at 7 a.m. I had to be on a plane to Amsterdam with Francesca, dammit. So I went to bed at 8 p.m., confident that when the alarm would go off at 5 a.m. on Wednesday I would wake up feeling like my normal self again.


It didn't happen. 


What did happen, instead, is that Francesca called me at 5 a.m. to tell me that she was also feeling lousy, describing me the same symptoms I had had Monday night. We knew right away our trip to Amsterdam was not going to happen. I mean, what's the point in going to visit a new, wonderful city when all you want to do is curl up in a ball and die? We decided to stay home and spent the next three days talking to each other over Skype, both laying on the couch too weak to even sit up. We were miserable. So miserable that we were dreaming about having someone show up at our doorstep with some kind of comfort soup. On the third day I was so desperate I was dreaming of Campbell's chicken noodle soup. Which is when I realized that I actually had all the ingredients —except for the celery— to make chicken noodle soup. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. I dragged myself to the kitchen, drank some herbal tea with lots of sugar in it for energy, and put together the soup. Now I don't know id it was the flu that had simply ran its course or it was my soup, but the next day I woke up feeling great. And as for Amsterdam, I swear I'm going to go in the spring.


CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP
Adapted from Cooking Light

• 48 oz. chicken broth
  1  tablespoon  olive oil
  1/2  cup  chopped onion
  1/2  cup  green peas
  1/2  teaspoon  salt
  1/2  teaspoon  freshly ground black pepper
  1  medium carrot, chopped
  6  ounces  fusilli pasta
  2 1/2  cups  shredded skinless, boneless rotisserie chicken breast (I didn’t have any, so I cooked and shredded my own chicken)
  2  tablespoons  chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
  
  
  Warm up broth in a large sauce pan.
  While broth heats, heat a skillet over medium-high heat. Add oil to pan; swirl to coat. Add onion, green peas, salt, pepper, and carrot; sauté 3 minutes or until almost tender, stirring frequently. Add to hot broth and stir in pasta; bring to a boil. Cook 7 minutes or until pasta is almost al dente. Stir in chicken; cook 1 minute or until thoroughly heated. Stir in parsley