Another film set, another suitcase

It's been a busy month here at Aglio, Olio & Peperoncino.

I have published several essays and features on various online Travel/Food magazines (check my sidebar for the links) and I have been interviewed, awarded and selected to be part of many great blogrolls (again, see in my sidebar for more AO&P online). I have designed a badge, and I am honored that some blog friends have displayed it on their sites. I have joined foodie hubs and search engines, and my traffic and followers have greatly increased.

I have twittered 'til the wee hours and made wonderful acquaintances therein. I have wisely de-cluttered and placed classified ads for old furniture and baby gear (alas no yard sale tradition here!). I have given books, clothes and toys to charities, and through the Internet, I "bumped into" my first preschool teacher, who is still living in Rome. We met for a picnic with Mr.E and it was a very touching moment to see her after all these years. She had saved this picture of my preschool graduation. I'm the one in the white dress and black shoes, fourth from the left.

Tomorrow I leave for a new film. We shoot an American film in Abruzzo for 8 weeks or so. Should be fun. But it will be hard to part with my son. He has just recently started attending a new school, and new habits and friendships are being formed. He is very shy, incredibly affectionate and tender, and I will miss my morning cuddles and his sweet "quanto sei bella" (how beautiful you are) during playtime. Our intimate mother-son rituals will be carried out by his loyal nanny. 

She'll be reading him Goodnight Moon, cooking his meals and becoming a tennis-playing warrior, or a truck-driving firefighter if the game requires it. I on the other hand will be speaking to my son over the phone. I will be strong and I will leave with a lump in my throat but faking a smile as my son waves from the window. I'll be biting my fingernails at his every silence and sneeze. I will be the breadwinner, devoured by guilt.

My laptop travels with me and I will still post every other day. I will keep freelance writing, emailing, discussing and posting recipes and hosting the weekly Be My Guest event. I will be back home on weekends, and my plans to participate in the vendemmia, olive press and Positano parties are still very much happening. I will treasure returning to the hotel room after work every day to read your blogs and your stories. Mushrooms and truffles will be eaten. Hare and perhaps wild boar too.

I will be punctual at work every day, neat and quiet. I'll not slouch and I'll sit with my knees locked together, prim and proper in my patagonia fleece. I'll wear my woolly hat and mittens gracefully. I will perform my job duties with care, I will be up to the task. I will rub elbows with stars and I will participate in a new creative process. I will be professional, discreet and efficient. I will be all that and more.

But I feel this could be my swan song.

I need a stable job. One that I can rely on. One with human-friendly hours. I have fantasies of a 9-to-5 day. I crave perks and benefits. I need a regular income! It's wonderfully empowering to carry the world on my own shoulders and be free from obligations, but sometimes it gets really difficult to do it all by myself. There's no business like show business, but I'm exhausted.

Freelance writing, blogging and editing my book will be my refreshing part-time job during the upcoming full-time job engagement with the film. I can do it. It'll be hard, but fun, too. I always like a good challenge.

I have to go pack now. Destination: Sulmona, cute little town in Abruzzo known for its traditional production of confetti, sugared almonds––not paper party decorations.

Confetti are traditional Italian sugared almonds with a hard sugar coating. The result is a crunchy white oval-shaped candy that's usually given as a symbolic celebratory gift in sets of odd numbers, usually 5.

Confetti can also be made with a chocolate filling instead of almonds. They are handed out as a small token (in little ornate fabric bags or decorated boxes) to family and friends for special occasions, like weddings, baptisms, christenings, graduations, etc. Wedding confetti are typically white; to celebrate the birth of a newborn baby, confetti are usually gender-colored (pink or baby-blue) and for a graduation they are lucky red. Silver and gold anniversary confetti respectively represent 25 and 50 years of marriage.

On the other hand the English word "confetti" corresponds to the Italian coriandoli. The connection is an interesting language story: long ago, during Carnival people would throw confetti (candy) that held a small coriander seed inside each, as a sign of appreciation for the best costumes at masquerade balls. Later on, small pieces of paper substituted the candy and their Italian name refers to the original herbal ingredient, coriandolo, while the English-speaking world remained faithful to the original candy name calling them confetti. Did I confuse you sufficiently?

A presto!

Be my Guest - Ellen of An Italian Dish

Welcome back to a series that is dear to my heart. Be My Guest showcases like-minded guest bloggers who share intimate moments with the food of the heart, here on Aglio, Olio e Peperoncino. 

Today I hand over the baton to Ellen. Her Italian food and travel themed blog, An Italian Dish, is a labor of love. In it she shares her love of naturally vegetarian Italian dishes, recipes, travel tales as well as some stories from her genealogy research.

Take it away, Ellen!

The season of gift giving is upon us, and I think back to one of the kindest, most thoughtful life-altering gifts I have ever received. It happened many decades ago, when I was a horribly adolescent 15 year old girl. You know that age, when we spend our junior high years trying to find an identity, flailing about in a sea of confusion. The gift given to me by my Nana altered me on a cellular level and still reverberates in my heart to this day.

Nana was raised in the North End, Boston's Little Italy, where her parents had immigrated from southern Italy during the migration at the turn of the century. Life was full of hardships, so in her mid-twenties, Nana moved out to California. She left her Italian side behind except for her yearly trips back to Boston to see her paesani, her siblings, cousins, and friends.

Nana’s gift--when I was 15, she brought me to the North End where I met dozens of cousins, aunts and uncles I never knew existed. For the first time, I was wrapped in a blanket of Italian love and my Italian identity was born. We attended the Feast of Saint Anthony where I ate zeppole and walked down the streets of my ancestors. 

Now, all these years later, I put this love into my blog, An Italian Dish. It’s a place to share travel stories, recipes and to pay tribute to my family. 

This year, I created an Italian Christmas Cookie ebook called Traditional Italian Holiday Cookies & Tasty Treats. The ebook features classics like biscotti, pasta frolla, Sicilian Fig Cookies, Krumiri, and Mostaccioli that are near and dear to my southern Italian relatives.

To learn more, to receive my ebook or to subscribe, visit here. 

You can follow Ellen and An Italian Dish on Instagram, or Facebook. vg

Be my guest - Green tomato chutney recipe

Today I'm handing my virtual toque hat to Delwyn. She will be doing the cooking here today, and I will learn something new. She is a very talented blogger and we share the same culinary passions based on fresh, healthy ingredients. I eagerly follow all her fabulous nature walks and cooking posts on her beautiful blog A Hazy Moon.

Some time ago Delwyn and I exchanged comments and views regarding my Pommarola post, and she mentioned a family legacy recipe. She was kind enough to accept my invitation to be a guest blogger here today, to illustrate that very recipe for us to share. This entry will also serve as a springboard for a new column which I have called "Be my guest" for which I will invite friends and fellow bloggers to come tell us a recipe of theirs, a pièce de resistance, a cookery family tradition, their signature dish.

I for one, am not a trained professional nor a chef. My qualifications are purely alimentary. In my community of bloggers, we are all certified Eaters with a passion for food, however. In my "You're the cook today" weekly column, each of you will have a chance to contribute your favorite recipes and widen your circle of friends as the official Aglio, Olio & Peperoncino chef of the day.

So come in, Delwyn. Don't be shy. Here's the stove and a clean apron. The pantry is well-stocked and the refrigerator humming over there is filled with anything you might need. Feel free to peruse the cabinets. There's plenty of herbs on the windowsill, and some wine resting sideways in the cellar. I can't wait to see you in action, so I'll just step aside now and watch you make your delicious...

Green Tomato Chutney from New Zealand

A while back joyful Lola was telling us of making sugo while holidaying with her family.
I mentioned that her story brought back the smells and the images of hot nights late in summer when my parents would chop tomatoes and onions at tables out on the back lawn and cook up enough tomato sauce and green tomato chutney to last through the year

Lola inquired about the Green Tomato Chutney and as I was heading off to New Zealand for a few days, I told her that I would dig out my mother's recipe.

The recipe book that holds my mother's favourite recipes has been well used over the years and I was surprised to see that it begins in my young school girl handwriting.


So a week ago I ordered sufficient green tomatoes from the Red Tomato man at the Farmers' markets and last night I began by washing and dicing the green tomatoes and the equivalent amount of onions, sprinkling them with salt and leaving them to sit overnight.






After which I drained them and went to find my spices, the vinegar and sugar.

As my supermarket did not have Pickling spices per se I made a quick call across the Tasman and was given my Mother's sage advice. Do not over do it... So I mixed some peppercorns, mustard seed, ginger, allspice and coriander seeds. Just enough to allow flavour room for the tastes of the curry powder, turmeric and mustard powder that will be added later with cornflour.





Next I boiled the mix of green tomatoes, onions, malt vinegar, sugar and pickling spices for an hour, during which time I sterilized the jars in which I chose to store the chutney.


After the hour of bubbling I thickened the chutney with the power packed brew
of curry, turmeric, cornflour and mustard, spooned it into the waiting jars...


...and made a cracker with Tasty New Zealand Mainland cheese as a sample...

or two.

Green Tomato Chutney is a great condiment for cold meats and adds a tasty pickled lift to cheese crackers.

Quantity recap:
4 lb tomatoes
4 lb onions
salt to sprinkle over
750 ml (1 3/4 pints) malt vinegar
1 oz pickling spice (tied in muslin cloth)
2 lb sugar
Boil one hour

Thicken with the following spices mixed in a little cold vinegar
1 Tb mustard powder
1 Tb curry powder
1 Tb turmeric
1 1/2 to 2 Tb cornflour

Store in sterilized jars. Refrigerate once opened


Thank you Delwyn, that was a terrific recipe. Stay tuned for more Be My Guest appearances!

Be My Guest: Robbin Gheesling

Welcome back to the Be My Guest series. This column showcases like-minded guest bloggers who share intimate moments with the food of the heart, here on Aglio, Olio e Peperoncino.

Today I'm happy to introduce Robbin, a passionate wine lover, firecracker and culture devotee. Robbin and I met a decade ago and have kept in touch through social media. I'm thrilled to share with you her wonderful new project. 

Take it away, Robbin!

There is a curiosity of Florence hiding in plain sight. Long mistaken for religious tabernacles, the wine doors of Florence instead delivered wine to the commoners during the era of Cosimo I de' Medici Grand Duke of Tuscany. To understand their development, we must take a step back. From the 12th to the 16th centuries, the economy of Florence was run by guilds. You can think of a guild as a kind of union membership. Each guild was focused on a particular commodity. For example; silk, wool, butchers, shoemakers, and vintners. To be part of the guild, you had to demonstrate family ties to the trade. If you didn't have it, you could sell your items to the guild who, in theory, were experts and could evaluate the quality of your products. Through time, the guilds became the middlemen of commerce and the noble families of Florence grew tired of the money they were losing by not being able to sell directly to the public or shops. Eventually, the guilds were dissolved and the nobility was granted the right to sell directly to the public. How does one sell directly without a storefront? How about cutting a hole in the wall of your palace, facing the street, where anyone could knock and be served? And here the wine doors were invented.

We now know there are 179 wine doors in the city of Florence. Several exist in the countryside, but for the most part, they are a Florentine phenomenon. My fascination with them began in 2013 when in graduate school at Middlebury College. A tour guide pointed out the most famous and obvious wine door on via delle Belle Donne, 2. Here, the historical hours of operation remain in marble. However, so many are tucked in alleyways or are simply outlines of their former selves cut into the stone. I got quite inquisitive about them but many I'd asked about their origin didn't know or didn’t care. Long live the librarians! I'd asked for books about Florentine architecture at Oblate library and was directed to a single, slim, 10-year-old book about the wine doors. To my delight, there was a condensed list of addresses in the back. I immediately began scouting their locations and logging them on Google maps. At the time I completed my first in-depth photographic shoot, there were only 147 noted. My pedometer says I logged about 25 miles per day that first week! In all of that walking, I stopped several times for a snack or a drink and realized this would make an excellent wine pilgrimage for travelers to Florence.

In 2018, the owners of the restaurant Babae restored its wine door and began serving glasses of wine and bruschetta reviving its original purpose. The location was empty when I first photographed this door. When COVID struck Italy, Babae was the only restaurant using theirs for service although several had access on both sides. As Italy shut down and only take-out food was acceptable, several other places such as Vivoli gelateria began using their wine door as a method of contactless service. Coincidentally, it was discovered that the wine doors were used during the plague of 1634 also as a method of avoiding contact with those who could be sick.

I return to Florence this fall to complete the guidebook I started visualizing in 2013. There is additional photography to do as well as research into the history that is not yet known. To support my return and my new work, I have created a Kickstarter campaign where the guidebook can be pre-ordered. Immediately available is a book of the original photographs as well as prints and posters. I look forward to seeing you in Florence where we can have a glass of wine together from a wine door.

Thank you Robbin!

Be my guest - Pasta con le sarde e finocchio

Earlier this week I wrote a guest post for Mangia Monday, a weekly column over at Wanderlust Women Travel, in which I spotlighted a secret Tuscan restaurant called Osteria il Vignaccio.

Today I welcome Wanderlust Women Travel's owner Lisa Fantino who will be launching our first installment of the 2010 be My Guest series. Lisa will be taking us to Sicily and introducing us to her Nonna0s rendition of a classic Sicilian dish, Pasta con le Sarde.

In Italy, this is a seasonal dish, one commonly made between March and September, i.e. the only time of year during which Sicilian pescherie (open air fish markets) carry the perfect size of fresh sardines; and when fields are most abundant with wild fennel just begging to be hand picked.

But let's hear how Lisa makes this delectable Sicilian treat.

Prego, Lisa. The toque is yours.

"Growing up in a Sicilian-American household my lunches consisted of mortadella sandwiches instead of bologna and capicola instead of ham. I also ate babaluci (snails) and vosteddi (spleen sandwiches) but one of my favorite dishes was Nonna's "Pasta Finocchio Sarde" (pasta with fennel and sardines). Now, don't roll your eyes or scrunch your face because I am about to share with you a bit of heaven that's really easy to make because it's partly ready-made.

Trust me, this dish is so easy that I have taught a native Jamaican woman how to make it and she's now speaking with a Sicilian accent. Also, you must know that Sicilians don't measure anything so everything here is an approximation.

Ingredients
5-6 cloves of garlic (or as many as you desire without scaring the neighbors) The garlic should be thinly sliced and not chopped
Handful of pinoli (pine) nuts
Handful of golden raisins (for some reason they taste better than regular raisins here)
Olive oil (extra virgin, first-pressed, certo)
1 can "Condimento per pasta con sarde"
Nonna's cast iron skillet if you're lucky enough to have one.
1 lb perciatelli pasta (some folks use thin spaghetti but I prefer perciatelli which allows you to make that sweet sucking noise as you savor this taste of heaven)

Start by boiling your pasta water so that it can cook while you prepare the dressing which only takes about 5-7 minutes. (BTW – the perciatelli should be cooked al dente. This is the wrong dish for mushy pasta!)

Heat the oil in your skillet until hot and toss in the garlic for a minute and then the pinoli nuts. Simmer until golden brown but do not burn them. Both of these ingredients are extremely delicate in that regard, and can both taste rancid if burnt to a crisp.

Toss in the can of sarde mixture.

Add the raisins and simmer on low for approximately 5 minutes, or until the wrinkles come out of the raisins and they look plump.

Toss the entire mixture over the drained perciatelli and mix well. Serve with grated cheese and/or muddica (typical Sicilian toasted breadcrumb) to garnish.

The dish itself is of Arabic origin, as are many things on the island of Sicily, but don’t tell that to my family."

Grazie Lisa, this was wonderful.
I'm sure many native Sicilians out there are swooning with memories of this great dish.

Lisa Fantino is an award-winning journalist and attorney, and the Italy travel concierge and creative force behind Wanderlust Women Travel and the recently launched Amalfi destination wedding site, Wanderlust Weddings. Her love of the Amalfi Coast has also inspired her to gather sterling silver jewelry and gifts inspired by the beauty of the region at Amalfi Blu. She also writes travel features for MNUI travel insurance and blogs as Lady Litigator.

Interested in reading more about Sicily and its glorious food?

Check out my articles (with recipes) on Pasta alla Norma ~ Panelle ~ Caponata ~ Grilled Swordfish Steak ~ Orange Salad alla Trapanese ~ Gelo di Anguria

Image credits and © cateringadomicilio.it | Adriao via WikimediaCommons

Be my guest - Tangy Sweet Salmon recipe

For this week's installment of Be my guest I'll be introducing my dear friend Lori E, author of the blog Family Trees May Contain Nuts as chef of the day.

Lori E is a brilliant genealogy researcher, computer teacher, tole painter, gardener, Santa collector, food & wine enthusiast and witty blogger. Lori and I began posting around the same time, it's been fun to follow each other's creative baby steps in blogging.

She will be sharing a surprise recipe today. I'm kind of excited because I don't know what she'll be making. All I know is that it already smells wonderful...

Here you go Lori—the kitchen is yours.

Tangy Sweet Salmon

I am so pleased to share a meal with my friend Lola and all of her friends too. I am a Canadian and I live on the West Coast of the country in Beautiful British Columbia.

Having the ocean so near you can be sure that one of the main ingredients in many restaurant and home cooked meals is seafood. British Columbia is known for its delicious bounty from the sea and salmon in particular.

We have a wonderful fish market nearby that has their own boats. This assures us of the freshest seafood possible. Bruce’s Market is the place to go. I have written about them before and always buy my seafood there.

This recipe really isn't much of a recipe at all. It is so simple and so good you will have people who normally don’t care for salmon asking for seconds.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit, about 200° Celsius. Nice and hot for fish.

Let's start with a lovely filleted piece of salmon. I prefer Sockeye salmon for its bright color and superior taste.
Place it on a piece of foil. This will be messy in the end so you will be happy you did.

Use a good quality mayonnaise and spread it over the whole length of the salmon, about 1/8 of an inch thick.

Sprinkle this with some pepper.

On top of this you will pack some brown sugar again about 1/8 to ¼ inch thick. Press it into the mayonnaise layer firmly. Now you will be happy you placed this on the foil.

Lift it with the foil and place it on a baking sheet. Pop this into your hot oven cooking 10 minutes per inch or until fish flakes easily in the thickest part.

The fish will be topped with a delicious sauce both tangy and sweet that will compliment the lovely salmon flavour.


I would offer a crisp, cold Pinot Grigio with this. I chose a wine from a British Columbia winery, Ganton & Larsen Prospect Winery in the Okanagan Valley. Their Pinot Grigio is called Ogopogo's Lair in reference to the mysterious Ogopogo sea creature said to live in the lake and the cave in which he resides when not prowling the waters.

Anyone up for a little swim before dinner?

Grazie, Lori E!

Be my guest - Pflaumenkuchen plum cake

I'll be brief, because the smell of baking sweetness is making me dizzy here. I have to slip away and savour a slice while you meet this week's guest chef. I'll hand over my toque to Angela–we call her Geli–and let her tell you of her beautiful German island and her everyday adventures. Pop over to her lovely blog Letters from Usedom to read more of her wonderful stories on the intelligent and witty children she teaches, her love for education, her passion for gardening, nature and... Kuchen!

Geli, the kitchen is yours.

My lovely friend Lola sticks her head through my kitchen door. “What cake are you baking today?” She is always drawn by the smell. Lola likes to visit me in my kitchen, and I am always happy to welcome her. If there is one who can appreciate good food–the making, the looks, the taste, the presentation–there is no one like Lola! Her blog is an adventure for the palate and the eyes, and even I–not one for garlic–am overwhelmed by the wish to sit at Lola's kitchen table and share a plate with her of ANYTHING she has to offer!

My own joy lies in the baking of cakes. In Germany, it is a nice custom to invite friends over for afternoon coffee and have some home-baked cake to present.

“Look, I made a Pflaumenkuchen today, late September is the time of the ripe plums!” This is my husband's favourite cake, made with a yeast dough. Do you know how to make a yeast dough? Some are afraid to try it because it involves some time, but actually it is the most adaptable and easy-to-make dough.

Before I continue chatting I must tell you that Lola is also not here personally. We can only visit each other virtually, but by visiting each other's blogs and then starting to e-mail and sending pictures, we have become good friends, although she lives about 2000 km away from me in Rome, while I live in the far North-East corner of Germany, right next to the Polish border. Our island is situated in the beautiful Baltic Sea and is called Usedom (pronounced oo-za-dom).

Here you can see our beach in the summer...

...and this here is me.

If you had come to visit me in July, I could have offered you an angel-food cake, filled with whipped cream and my own garden-grown strawberries.


Or in winter, when snow is lying on the ground and you have to take off your boots and scarf and mittens before sitting down by the fireside, I would treat you with my favourite chocolate cake, along with a mug of hot chocolate.

The recipe for that one you can find on my blog post Chocolate and other cakes.

When my blog friend Fire Byrd visited me last month, she sat in our beach basket and enjoyed a piece. Paco was counting every bite!

Now, in the fall, my family also likes apple cake, which I make of a short pastry, filled with soft-cooked apples, and covered with a grating of pastry, and after baking, with an icing of powdered sugar and lemon juice.

But today it is Pflaumenkuchen, plum cake. Here you can see how it looks when waiting to be eaten. Of course, when you invite guests, they will look at you expectantly to see if you also provided for some whipped cream! Pflaumenkuchen und Schlagsahne, that's just unbeatable!

Here comes the recipe:

20 g yeast
1 teaspoon of sugar
250 ml (1 1/4 cup) lukewarm milk
400 to 500 grams (2 to 2 1/2 cups) of wheat flour, depending on stickiness of dough
75 g (2.6 oz) sugar
3 tablespoons oil, or 50 grams (1/4 cup) of soft butter,
A pinch of salt and some cinnamon, some powdered sugar if you like.

Put the teaspoon of sugar, 2/3 of the flour and 5 tablespoons of milk in a bowl. Then add yeast and stir together. Cover with a cloth and let rise at a moderately warm place for half an hour. Then add the rest of the ingredients. Stir with a spoon or work with your hands. Add flour if necessary but not too much. Dough must remain soft. After having kneaded it thoroughly, cover again and let it rise double its volume. Try if it is sweet enough for your taste.

Spread it on a greased baking tray.

Now prepare the plums (you may also use peeled and sliced apples). Remove the pits and cut in halves. Then put them closely onto pastry, insides up. If you skimp on the quantity of plums, it will show later because the dough will continue to rise and there will be uneven, empty spaces!

When you are finished, put the tray in a warm place again (the oven at 50° C) and wait till the dough has become soft and fully risen.

Now put a heat-proof dish with water inside the oven, underneath the tray, and heat it up thoroughly (220° C). The water will create clouds which will cover the cake and make it soft.

After ten minutes open the oven door so the steam can escape, then remove the heat to moderate temperatures (170 °C) and bake for further 15 or 20 minutes.

When the pastry is well done, remove tray with mittens onto a wooden plate or a cloth, let it cool.

Only AFTER fully cooled, add sugar or icing. If you do it before baking, or right afterwards, the plums will draw too much juice, and the cake will become too soggy.


Now, please sit down and put on your napkins!
Guten Appetit!


Thank you for participating, Geli!

Diary from set - Abruzzo

When I was told we were moving to a remote location to film the latter part of the movie, I didn't really think it was going to be that remote. But actually, I have come to learn that some parts of this land are still incorrupt. Virgin. And far removed. Extrasolar far removed in some cases.

I initially imagined myself walking the snaking cobble-stoned alleys of a quaint medieval Abruzzo village perched on a high windy mountaintop, with little old ladies dressed in black nodding as we city slickers passed by, and elegant gents wearing their hats before a shot of grappa and a smoky hand of briscola. And Castel del Monte is all that. And much more, thankfully. But it is remote as remote gets.

We are surrounded by beauty and nature as far as the eye can see. Fast racing clouds chase the sunlight over the rolling hills and valleys below. High, barren mountains of neolithic matter loom above us, shining brightly in the thin air and brightest of sunlights. Where forests cloak elevated surfaces, the autumn leaves show off their auburn colors with flamboyant pride. The earth shakes every once in a while, reminding us of the April tragedy that has changed the people around here forever.

The air smells clean. I wake to chirping birds in the early morning. And yesterday we spotted a pack of wolves behind the restaurant during lunch break. The skies have been benevolent and have not rained (or snowed) upon us too bitterly. The town folk is friendly and politely astonished at our barbaric invasion. The everyday food and wine is Out of This World, and hanging out with a fun crew makes the hard work a little easier.

But there is no Internet.
Very little cell phone coverage.
No cable TV.

The only Wi-fi available is in the main Production office, which is a public place I can have access to after a 12-hour day and for a limited time frame. Oftentimes the choice between blogging or catching up on my electornic mail and a hot shower falls for the latter. And so I have failed to keep up. I fearfully open my flooding inbox once a week when I return home for the weekend. I have a hard time responding to all those who seek a word with me. Even spam is beginning to give up on me. Haven't chatted on Skype in eons. Blog etiquette out the window. Readers perplexed. Those spoiled by my thrice-weekly posts have not heard of me in months. The weekly appointments with my guest chefs at Be my guest are at a standstill.

I am home for a long weekend, and the playtime, bathtime and cuddletime with my son is momentarily on hold (he's snoring). So I take advantage of this little moment before slipping into bed next to him and inhaling his sweet smell before falling asleep under the covers of my bed–and not the hotel bed I am calling home for most of the week–to apologize for the long silence. And to ask you to bear with me.

I am eating astounding local and unusual things, learning of new interesting Abruzzo wines, traditions and food lore for my journal. And I am keeping notes. I will return to blogging routinely in 3 weeks when the film's principal photography will come to halt before taking off again for another chapter after the holiday season.

In three weeks I promise I will make up for the lost time on these pages and pledge to tickle your appetite again soon.




For now you'll have to make do with my Archive.
Scusatemi!