Focaccia: Greatest Hits

And so there I went, blabbering on about different travel styles and the Cinque Terre. Too much self-awareness, especially when I know what you people really want.

Food.

And so here are what I´m going to call my Top Three Focaccia Moments, even though really the pesto-mozzarella one I had in Genoa should be in here. But it´s not, because 1) I couldn´t delay the gratification to take photos and 2) my hands were too freezing to take photos. So my Almost Top Three, as follows:

3. Vegetarian Focaccia.

Ingredients, besides focaccia bread: Black olives, artichoke hearts, mushrooms
Where I ate it: Monterosso
Other notes: Greasy, greasy, greasy, in the best way.

2. Potato-cheese focaccia.

Ingredients, besides focaccia bread: Potato, amazing cheese (asiago?)
Where I ate it: also Monterosso
Other notes: Perfect amount of crunch (from crispy cheese) and squish (from perfectly cooked potato). Mmm.


And the #1 focaccia of my trip, my life, ever:

Ingredients, besides focaccia bread: mozzarella, green beans, focaccia
Where I ate it: Princi bakery, Via Speronari #6, Milan.
Other notes: This is the best baked goods place I´ve ever been to. I know them´s fightin´ words, but I´m sticking with it. There was just enough pesto on here to give you that tangy, salty kick but still left you wanting more rather than overwhelmed. And green beans! Amazing. I wasn´t gonna, but I went back for a cream-filled carnavale pastry afterward. Couldn´t help it. I´m ´bout to start drooling, Homer Simpson-style, just thinking about this place.

I can´t stress this enough: Milan is worth it just for Princi bakery. The place will possibly be packed when you go, so it may take you a while to get your order in. Take it as the good sign it is and use the time to build the anticipation.

if obelix had proposed right then, i would have said yes

Asterix and Obelix: favorite costume by far


Those of you in the non-Catholic world may not have noticed, but this past week was Carnival. A celebration in wackiness, costumes and all things enjoyable before Lent starts, Carnival (or Carnaval in espaneesh) is like an extended Mardi Gras. Except instead of one day, it's a week long; instead of ladies lifting up their shirts for beads, costumed children spray each other with silly string (as far as I can tell no one lifts up their shirt for anything here); and instead of raucous drunkenness it's... well, OK, there's still a lot of raucous drunkenness.



They set up a fairground with rides in the old part of the city here in Bilbao, where every adorable child in the city dressed as a pirate, dinosaur, flamenco dancer or clown dragged their parents Saturday afternoon.


daaaaaaaaaaaaw look at the little lion!


Luckily for me I was off to Italy, land of the truly wacky-doodle Carnaval (or Carnavale, as they say - say it with me, in an obnoxious Italian accent: Car-na-VAH-lay!), the next day. My friend Bryan and I gathered up extra confetti from the stands in Viareggio, then had an all-out confetti war. I was still picking confetti out of my shoes/hair/clothing days later.

Then off to Milan I went, where I went straight to the cathedral, the Duomo, and encountered the Most Confetti Ever.



As a side note: men in Venetian masks are not to be trusted. They will Silly String you like it ain't no thing.

will i eat 600 pieces of focaccia? i think so.

This Sunday afternoon I am going to get on an airplane. This airplane will take me to a fantastical place where there is none of this:


and lots of this:



Seven days. Italy. I'll be in Genoa, the Cinque Terre and Milan. If I don't come out of this slightly greener from all the pesto, I will consider this a job half done.

oh, hello again

I just took a look, and it turns out I haven't posted for two weeks. TWO WEEKS! Oops.

I can explain: I was in America still, but all that had happened was still snow and Christmas and hanging out with my family. There are only so many ways to say "my dad makes a mean cuban sandwich."

Then I was in Germany, and the internet in our hotel was terr-i-ble.

Then I was here for 4 days, but my old friend Doctor Homesickness announced that he was open for business inside my mind again and really, who wants to hear detailed descriptions of how sad you're feeling? Not a travel blog audience, that's for dang sure.

Anyway, the long and short of this is: the blog is back up and running. Sorry for making y'all wait.

Germany post up next!

holidays in nc

it snowed the day after Christmas!

Christmas break is flying by. The flight back was one of the easiest ever (I made a new friend on the big flight!), my friend's wedding was gorgeous, and my dad once again made the best peppermint candy ice cream and cuban sandwiches in the world for my birthday.

I love Raleigh, guys. I love it so much that during the confused, rambling movie junkfest that is Elizabeth: The Golden Age, when Sir Walter Raleigh says something about building a shining city in the New World and someone makes a snide comment about how he'd probably name it after himself, I yelled "whoo!" I love the barely-two lane roads that wind through the residential sections of town. I love how Fayetteville Street is finally taking off downtown.

All through high school and college I felt like I couldn't get out of this town fast enough. Right now it seems like the only place I could possibly wind up.

17 hours.

Tomorrow morning at 7:20 AM, I get on the first of many airplanes that will eventually take me back to the Land of the Free.

What I'm looking forward to:

- Airplane food. I cannot even explain how much I love airplane food. I understand that it's gross; I understand that if you were to serve that same food to me in any other context I would be grossed-out at best. I don't care. I love the anticipation as the cart gets closer, I love getting to choose between pasta and chicken, I love the miracle of that ridiculously tiny amount of food somehow filling me up. Love it, love it, love it.

- Someone in the Frankfurt airport talking to me in German. After a few months in a country where I stick out everywhere I go, where no matter how much I shop at Mango and Zara and no matter how little eyeliner I wear I'm still so obviously foreign, it's oddly comforting to have someone mistake me for a fellow countryman. Even if all I can say in German is "Away with the ugly thing!" and "Damn it all anyway!" (thanks, Mom and Dad.)

- Kara's wedding. My friend Kara, who is one of my very favorite people I've ever lived with and also generally a beautiful person, is getting married on Saturday. I'm so lucky things worked out for me to be able to go living in another country!

- Seeing my family! Obviously. And Christmas. If I'm honest, spending Thanksgiving away from home was not that big of a deal for me, but I am so grateful to be able to spend Christmas with my family.

What I'm not so much looking forward to:

-Traveling sick. Why does "traveling" not have two L's? Anyway, I had a fever for about 8 hours last night, which doesn't always make for the very finest air travel experience. Hopefully this thing will have improved by tomorrow morning.

olentzero is coming to town...

It started last Thursday night. I was walking home from the bus after work and suddenly something sounded very familiar. Very familiar and very Christmassy. Joy to the World was blasting from the department store El Corte Inglés. The front of the building was now covered in light-up snowflakes, which were turning on and off in a rhythmic dance to the song.



Soon after, thousands of twinkling blue lights went up around Gran Via, turning the main shopping street into an enchanted forest.

And, of course, Olentzero - the Basque version of Santa Claus, who comes down from the mountain to give good children presents and bad children coal on Christmas Eve - has been popping up in window displays everywhere.


Merry Christmas, Feliz Navidad, Zorionak.

And I fly home in 5 days!

fall desserts: apple crisp

a little burned but still good

What's easy to make, tastes like fall and makes use of the produce that's everywhere around Basque Country this time of year?

I'm sure there are others, but I'm thinking of the apple crisp I made yesterday for Thanksgiving dinner. I adapted it from here to be bigger, simpler and not include brown sugar (sigh).

Topping:

1 cup all purpose flour

1 cup granulated white sugar

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon fresh nutmeg

12 tablespoons (170-ish grams) cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces

1 cup old-fashioned rolled oats

Filling:

2 kg Granny Smith Apples or other firm, tart-tasting apple (peeled, cored, and cut into 1 inch (2.5 cm) chunks) - I used a combination of Granny Smith and the golden apples that are everywhere here right now

Juice of 1 lemon

1 teaspoon lemon zest

6 tablespoons white granulated sugar

Large baking dish

Preheat oven to 375F (190C). Toss filling ingredients together; pour into baking dish. Place all the topping ingredients (flour, sugar, spices, butter, oats in a food processor and process until the mixture is crumbly (looks like coarse meal) and there are no large pieces of butter visible. (This can also be done with two knives or your fingertips. I used my fingers.) Cover filling evenly with topping. Bake for 30-40 minutes or until bubbly and golden brown. Remove, wait 30 minutes (if you can), enjoy.

Side note: make sure your broiler function is not on. The black oats you see are the result of me not doing this.

Thanksgiving: Round Two

My first helping

The guests for the Big American Thanksgiving just left my house. All I can say is it was really, really nice to get together and enjoy some American tradition together, eat American food (there was even turkey! Can you believe it?!) and listen to christmas music (hey, it's not technically Thanksgiving anymore, christmas music is now fair game).

Everyone who came, who brought food, paper plates, wine, whatever: Thank you.

There's no place like home for the holidays, but maybe home can be, just for a while, a little corner of the world far from where you were born.

so much to be thankful for.

Julieta Venegas from the front row.

This week has been crazy hectic but also unbelievably blessed. Here's the rundown:

Monday: Javi, the actual teacher of my "clase mala," stayed in class with me after having a come-to-Jesus last week with the kids about how rude they were being. They behaved awesomely.

Tuesday: interviewed for and got a job in Zornotza/Amorebieta, a town about 25 minutes away. 4 nights a week and more than doubles my income.

Wednesday: Julieta Venegas, one of my very all-time favorite singers, came to Bilbao and did a concert. My friend Jessica and I got there half an hour early; apparently half an hour is all you need to get perfect front-row spots. The above picture was taken on my LITTLE camera with no digital zoom. Besides being only 5 feet away, Julieta was of course amazing. Incredibly sweet, funny, she played at least 4 instruments, and it was her birthday!! Easily best concert of my life.

Thursday: Thanksgiving! I found sweet potatoes (a certain moroccan store gets a big "eskerrik asko" for that one). Cooked them the way my dad always did them, the way I prefer them, which I'll tell you here:

Rinse potatoes. Poke holes in potatoes with fork. Bake in 350-400F (a little under 200C) oven for 40-50 minutes.

Eat. Don't you dare leave the skins, they're caramelized and wonderful!

Yesterday I also started my new job and both of my classes (one of 10-year-old girls, one of adults) were really nice. Then last night was Thanksgiving Round One: Basque Edition. I went with my roommates to a friend's house (actually, the house of Sara, the girl who used to live in my room) for a Thanksgiving dinner party and it. was. awesome. They played (American) Christmas music, made nachos and a "baby turkey" (i.e. large chicken, which I have to say was tender and juicy beyond belief). We each gave thanks for something at the end of the meal, and it was so funny because as the only American I suddenly became the Thanksgiving expert. "Kata, are you allowed to give thanks before the dinner?" "Kata, do you ask for something too, or just give thanks?"



But of course there aren't really any Thanksgiving rules except that you must eat too much, which we dutifully did.

Now I'm gearing up for Thanksgiving Round Two: American Edition on Saturday.

sevilla: a week in images 2

rows and rows of tiny donkeys and camels at the Feria del Belen, or nativity scene expo/market.


I adore nativity scenes. Specifically, I enjoy the giant tacky plastic light-up ones that go in your front yard. The ones where Joseph is always wearing a snappy bright pink getup I'm pretty sure they didn't have back in old-time Galilee.

Spain, being a Catholic country, takes the nativity scene to another (tinier) level. First off, "nativity scene" does not really begin to describe the scope of the Spanish belen. In America, the nativity scene pretty much consists of the Holy Family, and if it's really involved might have a couple of barnyard animals, a little drummer boy and the three wise men.

Here, it's the entire town of Bethlehem in miniature. Townspeople, donkeys, chickens, houses, fruit shops. Tiny stews for Mary and Joseph to enjoy if they're hungry after all the labor and angelic visitations. Sheep, cats, trees, angels, fried eggs. You name it.

Obviously, the minute I settle down and live in one place for more than a year I will have two. One detailed, indoor Spanish-style diorama, and one giant glowing American-style one. Because you've gotta have that.