I Más!
Ripa di Porta Ticinese, 11. Milan Tel 0258100992.
In Milan this past Saturday I had the first cocktail I’ve had in years. Nothing against the colorful concoctions, I simply prefer to get my buzz on slowly, and minus the sticky sweet aftertaste of pineapple and grenadine. I suppose Mojitos technically count as cocktails, and I’m picky about them too. More mint and lime, less sugar!
However, the special house cocktails at the Spanish restaurant and tapas bar, I Más!, looked so big and beautiful that I had to try one, just to see if I could finish it!
We’d had an aperitivo at a bar nearby, which consisted of a few glasses of wine and very few snacks, so we decided on I Más! mainly because they were still serving Tapas…. And we would need to them.
One foot in the door, and there they were, three goblets, each roughly the circumference of a cantaloupe, filled to the brim with at least 20 cubes of ice (a real rarity in Italy), naturally-colored liquid, and chunks of fresh fruit, mint, and plump maraschino cherries.
I don’t know how the server managed to lift the tray, but she was doing a lot of it. Every table was enjoying one of these gargantuan cocktails and so did we.
To soften the blow, we ordered some tapas, none of which cost more than €3: Pan-seared Chorizo in a spicy, oily sauce with a touch of apple vinegar (we sopped it up with the bread and would have used our fingertips), crostini with queso de cabra, chicken-stuffed pimientos in a warm tomato sauce, and marinated anchovies. Everything was fresh and savory, with just enough oil to give it a sinful touch, without leaving oil slicks on our lips or a regretful conscience.
And then the cocktails:
We sampled a Dolce Vita, which came in a 12-inch, v-shaped glass with a thick stem. It was something of a Campari-fied Cosmo, with Vodka, Cointreau, cranberry, lime, Campari and club soda.
The Marcella was our hands down favorite, with a rum and ruby red grapefruit base.
The drink called ‘Cherries’ was none other than fishbowl with a stem, and combined grapes, cherries, campari, gin, and a lot of citrus.
Each one had a unique fresh flavor that never tired. They were refreshing and went down without any initial jolt, only to follow up with a pleasant warm rush that only made you want to drink more. Truly thirst-quenching.
There were four of us and we ordered at least six of these monsters. While I don’t remember the last few hours of the night, the fresh fruit must have packed a vitamin punch, as I awoke the next day at noon, fresh and headache free!
Monday, September 29, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Wine Spectator Wine Video Contest
This summer I made a movie and I am in love with it!
This past May I opened up Wine Spectator Magazine and saw the ad for this year’s video contest: “Love wine? Love making Videos?”
Yes. And yes.
This was a contest for me. The grand prize would propel me to the California Wine event in New York, and straight into the heart of the food and wine (and food and wine media) industry, which is exactly what I’m working toward. Then would come fame—the paparazzi, the fans, the eating disorder, an addiction, marriage, divorce and copious international adoption proceedings, a reality show, a biography…Yes yes yes!
Ideas flooded my brain for about a month, sending little anxious jolts through my stomach every time I pictured the final product, a hypothetical masterpiece. When I finally got my creative footing the script came together with great ease.
It wasn’t my first video and certainly won’t be my last, but this baby was a real enterprise. I put my heart and my head into it (something I rarely do with boyfriends), and actually used an editing program (and a friend in the profession). No homemade Casio keyboard sound effects this time around baby!
Here's the premise: (spoiler alert!)
1)An aspiring sommelier (me) studies for hardest exam of her life.
2)She’s trying to understand the concept of ‘terroir’ and realizes that the answer isn’t in any of her books.
3) She decides to travel to Cerveteri, a town of Etruscan origins with a long history of wine-making. It would be the epitome of terroir
4) She speaks with a geologist to understand the soil, and an archaeologist to learn about wine history of the region.
5) She visits a modern winery and learns about their connection to the land.
6) She tastes the wine.
7) She gets it.
8) She passes her exam. Of course.
I filmed on location in two countries, and in two languages. I worked with little to no budget. I am forever grateful to all of those who gave me hand, offered interviews, and filmed me when there wasn’t a ledge or table near enough for me to film myself.
I had an incredible time making the film, and I believed in it until the end. It has fueled my ambition, and while I am still in shock that I am not a contest finalist, I have the contest to thank for awakening a talent and drive I hadn’t realized were there.
Go and vote for the video finalists. They deserve the glory for their hard work and enthusiasm.
Congratulations guys!
This past May I opened up Wine Spectator Magazine and saw the ad for this year’s video contest: “Love wine? Love making Videos?”
Yes. And yes.
This was a contest for me. The grand prize would propel me to the California Wine event in New York, and straight into the heart of the food and wine (and food and wine media) industry, which is exactly what I’m working toward. Then would come fame—the paparazzi, the fans, the eating disorder, an addiction, marriage, divorce and copious international adoption proceedings, a reality show, a biography…Yes yes yes!
Ideas flooded my brain for about a month, sending little anxious jolts through my stomach every time I pictured the final product, a hypothetical masterpiece. When I finally got my creative footing the script came together with great ease.
It wasn’t my first video and certainly won’t be my last, but this baby was a real enterprise. I put my heart and my head into it (something I rarely do with boyfriends), and actually used an editing program (and a friend in the profession). No homemade Casio keyboard sound effects this time around baby!
Here's the premise: (spoiler alert!)
1)An aspiring sommelier (me) studies for hardest exam of her life.
2)She’s trying to understand the concept of ‘terroir’ and realizes that the answer isn’t in any of her books.
3) She decides to travel to Cerveteri, a town of Etruscan origins with a long history of wine-making. It would be the epitome of terroir
4) She speaks with a geologist to understand the soil, and an archaeologist to learn about wine history of the region.
5) She visits a modern winery and learns about their connection to the land.
6) She tastes the wine.
7) She gets it.
8) She passes her exam. Of course.
I filmed on location in two countries, and in two languages. I worked with little to no budget. I am forever grateful to all of those who gave me hand, offered interviews, and filmed me when there wasn’t a ledge or table near enough for me to film myself.
I had an incredible time making the film, and I believed in it until the end. It has fueled my ambition, and while I am still in shock that I am not a contest finalist, I have the contest to thank for awakening a talent and drive I hadn’t realized were there.
Go and vote for the video finalists. They deserve the glory for their hard work and enthusiasm.
Congratulations guys!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
A Cake of One's Own - La Torta Resegone
It’s not easy to get flashbulbs popping when George Clooney lives on the other side of the lake. Charming little Lecco, on the coast of lake Como, hadn’t been much in the spotlight these days, until they made news in Italy’s most newsworthy fashion…food.
Three pastry chefs recently teamed up to create an official town dessert, la Torta Resegone. They closed their eyes and tried to taste childhood. They channeled their grandmothers, great grandmothers even, and harked back to the days before butter and carbs were criminal. The result was a semola and buvkwheat flour base with a cookie crust consistency, a layer of wild blueberry glaze, and a cakey, blueberry-muffin-esque top layer with a dark, rustic quality that is decidedly fresh, yet somehow not of this century.
The finishing touch was a dusting of powdered sugar in the shape the looming Mount Resegone, the city’s signature backdrop.
The city council gave them a certificate, and they made the local papers region-wide!
This may not seem like much, but in a country where two-house towns seem to boast a local specialty, the Lecco cake was a long overdue accomplishment.
Stop in and try one next time you’re in the area. Trains leave from Milan every hour, and the ride is gorgeous. The shop is only five minutes from the station, which leaves plenty of time for Clooney-sighting later on in the day.
Paolo il Pasticcere – Via Bovara, 26. Lecco
Friday, September 5, 2008
Edgy Vegetarian and Just the Right Bottle
Arancia Blu
Via Prenestina, 396. Tel 064454105.
I might never have set foot in here if my friend and co-writer weren't a vegetarian. We were covering San Lorenzo, the city’s latest Boho-to-Soho neighborhood revitalization miracle, for Where Rome magazine. The area, supposed home of Saint Lawrence (barbecued to a crispy martyrdom for refusing to pay church taxes to the Romans and proclaiming the people to be the empire’s greatest treasure) has a history of outspoken populist ideals. The Communist epicenter of the city, and home to a number of squatters-turned-real=life artists, San Lorenzo was bound to have a vegetarian restaurant.
Indeed it did, and not only. Fabio Basson, owner and head chef not only scours the country for seasonal organic produce, but keeps the wine cellar stocked with high profile and intriguing Italian and international labels, with a stern sommelier at the helm. He didn’t stop there. Chocolate and coffee tastings up the connoisseur ante, and local art works adorn the walls with tasteful if, at times, desperately modern art.
The menu changes seasonally of course, and is peppered with enough creativity to distinguish the place as an arty alternative—take artichoke flan served in a Parmesan shell or fresh ravioli stuffed with whole porcini mushroom slices and sweet purple onions—whereas slightly retouched classics like eggplant Parmesan and perfect portion sizes keep the restaurant in the good graces of hungrier otherwise omnivores.
Fabio’s goal was to prove wrong anyone who believes the vegetarian lifestyle to be bland or boring. He’s succeeded beyond his expectations, setting the standard for new Roman restaurant culture along the way.
The restaurant has since moved to a new location in the even edgier neighborhood of Pigneto-Prenestina and now offers gorgeous outdoor patio dining,
If you appreciate a good bottle of wine, it’s easy to spend €45 a person, and incredibly worth every cent.
Chewy, cheesy, and Feather-light Pizza. Say What?
Sforno
Via Statilio Ottato, 110/116. Tel 0671546118
It’s rarely worth ripping yourself from the ivy-swathed and cobble-stoned charm of Rome’s historical center, and ambiance is sorely lacking in the shabbier periphery of town, where food is often tastier and cheaper, if served with far less flair or care. Sforno, a clean, well-lighted pizzeria in the southeast Tuscolano area offers little in the way of rustic Italian style. What is does offer however, is the city’s oldest starter dough, or lievito madre. Those in the bread-baking know will appreciate the fact that these guys have been breaking off a chunk of old pizza dough to kick off the rising process in the new dough for about 150 years! The natural leavening means that huge Neopolitan-size pizzas, complete with creative toppings (the Greenwich pairs Stilton cheese with a Port reduction sauce) go down so easy you’d be tempted and able to order a second one. This leaves room for original appetizers like pumpkin and Parmesan suppli’ (those stuffed and fried rice balls everyone comes back from Rome raving about) and an ample list of ice cold artisanal beers.
Via Statilio Ottato, 110/116. Tel 0671546118
It’s rarely worth ripping yourself from the ivy-swathed and cobble-stoned charm of Rome’s historical center, and ambiance is sorely lacking in the shabbier periphery of town, where food is often tastier and cheaper, if served with far less flair or care. Sforno, a clean, well-lighted pizzeria in the southeast Tuscolano area offers little in the way of rustic Italian style. What is does offer however, is the city’s oldest starter dough, or lievito madre. Those in the bread-baking know will appreciate the fact that these guys have been breaking off a chunk of old pizza dough to kick off the rising process in the new dough for about 150 years! The natural leavening means that huge Neopolitan-size pizzas, complete with creative toppings (the Greenwich pairs Stilton cheese with a Port reduction sauce) go down so easy you’d be tempted and able to order a second one. This leaves room for original appetizers like pumpkin and Parmesan suppli’ (those stuffed and fried rice balls everyone comes back from Rome raving about) and an ample list of ice cold artisanal beers.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Da Tonino: My First and Favorite Restaurant
Da Tonino - Via del Governo Vecchio 18. No phone.
Before it was “discovered” by the guide writers (I hold myself equally accountable), this tiny trattoria had no sign outside and no menu inside. I happened on it nearly seven years ago while on a studying Italian at nearby Piazza dell’Orologio. We’d exit class at 4pm, and en route to the pub we’d pass this place packed wall-to-wall with people still lingering over lunch. There wasn’t a discernable word of English coming from the place, the décor was a shabby sparse bordering on grimy, but it smelled so good that we chanced our elementary Italian skills and reserved a table. For Halloween night.
When a cowgirl, a call girl, and an ice dancing couple wandered in, no one seemed phased. We got straight to the goods: two carafes of spicy Montepulciano d’Abruzzo house wine. They explained the specials and we understood choice words like rigatoni spaghetti, and coniglio (Rabbit—for some reason, everyone knew that one), and we ate one of the best meals of our collective lives.
That night I added straccetti (literally, ‘little rags’ of beef, slowly sautéed with garlic and rosemary into a brisket-esque meltiness and topped with what looked like a shrub of fresh arugula) to my culinary lexicon, along with puntarelle, the curled up stalks of the chicory plant, and something of a perfect union between celery and romaine hearts all crunchy and doused in a garlic and anchovy dressing.
The rigatoni alla carbonara is still my favorite in the city. The eggs are bright yellow and fluffy, and the pancetta is crispy and truly reminiscent of fresh bacon. Al dente pasta closes the deal in what can only be described as the all-American breakfast, minus the pancakes, plus the parmesan and peccorino, and an absolute must-have. My uncle liked it so much on his last visit that he ordered a second plate.
The rigatoni alle melanzane comes in a thick, eggplant and tomato sauce that has a roasted quality to it and the skin pulls effortlessly away and clumps up with fresh Parmesan and spicy pepper, all stuffed inside the rigatoni tubes for one perfect bite after another.
When they’ve got it (some desserts are baked off-site), the tiramisu is one of the only ones I’ve found in Rome in the layer-cake style. The espresso-soaked shortcake and mascarpone keep each other’s moisture in check, and the whole thing is dusted in dark chocolate cocoa powder. Order your own piece and guard it well, as this tiramisu is way too easy to steal slices from.
Oh yeah. And I’ve never spent over 17 euros.
Before it was “discovered” by the guide writers (I hold myself equally accountable), this tiny trattoria had no sign outside and no menu inside. I happened on it nearly seven years ago while on a studying Italian at nearby Piazza dell’Orologio. We’d exit class at 4pm, and en route to the pub we’d pass this place packed wall-to-wall with people still lingering over lunch. There wasn’t a discernable word of English coming from the place, the décor was a shabby sparse bordering on grimy, but it smelled so good that we chanced our elementary Italian skills and reserved a table. For Halloween night.
When a cowgirl, a call girl, and an ice dancing couple wandered in, no one seemed phased. We got straight to the goods: two carafes of spicy Montepulciano d’Abruzzo house wine. They explained the specials and we understood choice words like rigatoni spaghetti, and coniglio (Rabbit—for some reason, everyone knew that one), and we ate one of the best meals of our collective lives.
That night I added straccetti (literally, ‘little rags’ of beef, slowly sautéed with garlic and rosemary into a brisket-esque meltiness and topped with what looked like a shrub of fresh arugula) to my culinary lexicon, along with puntarelle, the curled up stalks of the chicory plant, and something of a perfect union between celery and romaine hearts all crunchy and doused in a garlic and anchovy dressing.
The rigatoni alla carbonara is still my favorite in the city. The eggs are bright yellow and fluffy, and the pancetta is crispy and truly reminiscent of fresh bacon. Al dente pasta closes the deal in what can only be described as the all-American breakfast, minus the pancakes, plus the parmesan and peccorino, and an absolute must-have. My uncle liked it so much on his last visit that he ordered a second plate.
The rigatoni alle melanzane comes in a thick, eggplant and tomato sauce that has a roasted quality to it and the skin pulls effortlessly away and clumps up with fresh Parmesan and spicy pepper, all stuffed inside the rigatoni tubes for one perfect bite after another.
When they’ve got it (some desserts are baked off-site), the tiramisu is one of the only ones I’ve found in Rome in the layer-cake style. The espresso-soaked shortcake and mascarpone keep each other’s moisture in check, and the whole thing is dusted in dark chocolate cocoa powder. Order your own piece and guard it well, as this tiramisu is way too easy to steal slices from.
Oh yeah. And I’ve never spent over 17 euros.
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