Devour.

The Host, the Visitor, and Sind Punjab

2012-02-18T01:20:00.000-08:00

One of my friends, K, visited Dubailast weekend as part of his “Around the World in 80 Days” trip(he isn't an avid Jules Verne fan or anything, he's literallytraveling the world in 80 days). I usually get stressed when it'stime to play host to friends and visitors from abroad because here inDubai, there are two major things to see: The Desert and The Mall. Ihave had it up to here with the desert (I'm holding my hand far abovemy head), and have little to no skill in navigating vast swaths ofsand, which is a recipe for death or disaster out here. So I tried todistract K with The Mall.

Now K is an incredibly good sport andmade me believe he enjoyed The Mall, but I felt it was somehowunderwhelming to bring an American to Dubai and show hima mall. I even triedto wow him with PappaRoti but as my luck would have it, he had justspent 3 months in Malaysia, the home of PappaRoti, and knew theirheavenly coffee buns all too well.

Atthis point I decided it was time to outsource. Conveniently enough,my friend B, a true Dubaian and the ultimate host, announced he washaving a party.

Friendslike B are a blessing because you can feel their generosity in everydetail of their hospitality. For years now, B has been taking us outto his favorite restaurant in Dubai, the one he practically grew upon: Sind Punjab.

Remnants of Sind Punjab samosas

Yogurt sauce and pickled onions

Kulfi

SindPunjab is one of those restaurants in Bur Dubai (old Dubai) that youcould easily pass without noticing at all, and yet if you ask any ofthe locals they will know it and smile. One half is take-out only, acommon gathering place for cricket matches, while the other half is aproper sit-down restaurant with white table clothes and a friendlystaff. Both halves have amazing food.

The generous host

You'llknow Punjabi food if you've tried North Indian cuisine, full oftandoors, biryani, curries, and naan. Whenever B takes us to SindPunjab, we have the usual: a starter of vegetable samosas smotheredin chhole (chickpea curry), a plate of sliced fresh vegetables, andskewers of chicken tandoori followed by a buffet of saag paneer(Indian cottage cheese in spinach), butter chicken, kadhai paneer(cheese with creamy curry), and chicken tikka masala (chicken inyogurt and spices) alongside generous baskets of naan (Indian bread)and parathas (Indian layered bread). We end the meal with kulfi(cardamom-spiced ice cream), gulab jamun (donuts soaked in syrup),and gajar halva (carrot pudding).

Tandoor chicken

Saag paneer

Naan

Thefact that B orders that much for us was reason enough to rely on himto show K a good time, but he one-upped himself this time andliterally brought Sind Punjab to his home. He set up the full buffeton his patio by the pool, hired some cooks from the restaurant, and--this is the best part-- rented their tandoor oven to make freshnaan and parathas for us, hisadoring fans.

Dough for naan

Wehuddled up around the oven and watched as globs of yeasty dough werethrown up against the concave walls of the tandoor oven and puffed upinto that crispy-yet-chewy heaven of the Indian carb world. I ate 3pieces, smothered in ghee (clarified butter). Then had a spicyparatha to top it off.

Tandoor oven

Naan smothered in ghee

Wefinished up the night with a game of Mafia (which I highly recommendif you have a large crowd of well fed and rowdy friends with justenough shared history that they're eager to make accusations) and afew rounds of Pictionary. It was an amazing night, and K wasthoroughly impressed with B's hospitality, a quality I consider to beone of the region's defining characteristics.

And asan added bonus, his house was in the middle of The Desert. How's thatfor a two-in-one? A huge thanks to B and happy travels to K!

Practicalities:

Sind Punjab Restaurant

Near the Astoria Hotel on Khalid Bin Waleed Road

Bur Dubai, UAE

+971(0)4 352 6114 or +971 (0)4 352 5058

Best Coffee Cake Ever

2012-02-09T23:00:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago, my friends at workfound my computer unlocked at my desk and sent a “log-off”, or aprank message impersonating me, from my e-mail account, and copyingthe whole office. The message read something like “Hey guys!!!! I'mhaving a super sweet yummy baking party tonight and want to bringsomething scrumdiddlyumptious to the whole office, please vote onwhat you want!”

Typically, recipients of these log-offsimmediately recognize them as such and laugh them off, sometimesreplying-all with a quip or two. My e-mail received 22 responses, allvotes for different baked goods. I still haven't completely figuredout what this means about the impression I give at work, but what Irealized immediately was that a large amount of people wererequesting my coffee cake, or rather S's coffee cake.

S is one of my best friends from highschool, an Italian-raised American girl who quickly befriended meduring junior varsity volleyball season, and who I have shared many afoodie moment with (including devouring a bucket of honey buffalowings after painting my room freshman year). A while back, S e-mailedme a recipe for “Overnight Coffee Cake”.

Coffee cake was a staple of my highschool experience, especially senior year, when the school moms wouldbring in baked goods for us on Fridays and there would inevitably bea crumbly, gooey, warm coffee cake sitting in the middle of thetable. We were typical teenagers so we were constantly hungry, andthat coffee cake never lasted more than hour. We got to school earlyon Fridays just to make sure we didn't miss it.

Now, with work, coffee is more aboutcaffeine than cake, but I thought I'd give this recipe a whirl andsee how it performed. And like most recommendations S has given meover these past years, these were a knock out. I made 2 pans and theywere empty before most people had made it into the office.

Practicalities:

Overnight Coffee Cake Recipe, from S

Ingredients

3/4 cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup sour cream
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup chopped pecans or walnuts
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 1/2 cups confectioners' sugar
3 tablespoons milk

Directions

In a large mixing bowl, cream butter and sugar. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Combine the flour, baking soda, nutmeg and salt; add to the creamed mixture alternately with sour cream. pour into a greased 13-in. x 9-in. x 2-in. baking dish.
In a small bowl, combine the brown sugar, pecans and cinnamon; sprinkle over coffee cake. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
Remove from the refrigerator 30 minutes before baking. Bake, uncovered, at 350 degrees F for 35-40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean. Cool on a wire rack for 10 minutes. Combine confectioners' sugar and milk; drizzle over warm coffee cake.

Bacio Gelato, Dubai

2012-01-25T05:23:00.000-08:00

Driving in Dubai can feel like navigating a labyrinth.Things seem to be clear at first: one long, wide, drag of highway runningthrough the city connects almost everything together. But in order to reach a destination,you have to veer off the highway and join an intricate network of streetswhich, because of constant construction and development, often get shut down orrerouted. Which means unexpected 30 minute detours, illegal u-turns, and occasionalurban off-roading. Faced with the constant intellectual and emotional challengeof the Dubai labyrinth, I have learned to cope by restricting most of myoutings to well known destinations, and rarely venturing off the beaten path.

That changed recently, though, when one of my friends-- whowe like to call Google because of her uncanny knowledge of almost everything--told me about Bacio Gelato. She told me it was on a small side street near Mallof the Emirates. I’ve been to Mall of the Emirates approximately 50 times, but Ihave never seen Bacio Gelato. This was a clear indication to me that BacioGelato was one of those places only found by venturing into the labyrinth.

But was it worth the risk? My friend Google described Bacio’slike this: “Oh my God, you’ve never been to Bacio Gelato? It’s the best icecream in Dubai. They have chocolate hazelnut gelato with pieces of FerreroRocher. My Italian friends introduced it to me.”

I weighed my options carefully, and finally decided to gowith Google. The first time we tried to visit Bacio we got distracted by aSyrian kunafeh joint, and forgot about the gelato. The second time it was past10pm, or closing time, so we didn’t make it. The third time we tried, the taxidriver passed the exit and we gave up, forgoing the 30 minute detour we wouldsurely have to endure.

The fourth time did the trick. Everything Google had said wasright. Gelato made fresh daily, by Italians, plus fruity sorbets and strong shotsof espresso. I felt a deep sense of accomplishment as I bit into crunchy bitsof Ferrero Rocher and slurped up the drips of chocolate and hazelnut ice cream.I had taken on the labyrinth, and won.

Practicalities:

Bacio Gelato

Near Mall of the Emirates, on the side where LuluHypermarket it, but not on the Sheikh Zayed Road side, rather on the other side,where that hotel is, when you exit from Carrefour then take a right then reacha light then take a right then reach another light then take a left to get backonto Sheikh Zayed Road. That’s where it is. Look to your left. Good luckparking.

Oh, and there's a map

La Petite Maison, Dubai

2012-01-10T03:29:00.000-08:00

I’ve been meaning to write about this place for a while.It’s a proper Dubai establishment, except of course for the fact that it’s notactually from Dubai. It’s Nicoise, technically (like the tuna salad), whichmeans there’s a lot of French thrown in with a bit of Italian. The origins,apparently, are Genoese.

Genoa, besides sounding a lot like that made up country in thePrincess Diaries, is a port city in Italy’s Liguria region. If you look upGenoa on an image search, you’ll find a lot of pictures of sea and sun, andgreen land. Of course I see everything through the lens of food, so for me thatmeans fish, lemons, and excellent dairy.

Roasted peppers

Goat cheese salad

So at the end of the day, La Petite Maison is a thoroughlyMediterranean restaurant, and my favorite in the city. Before I get into thefood part, though, I have an important piece of advice for you. If you aregoing to La Petite Maison, you should bring friends. People will tell you it’sa perfect date spot, but just ignore them. You can take your dates to any otherquiet dark culinary corner. But here, you need friends.

Pan fried sole

The reason is that food like this, bright, tangy, happyfood, will make you want to talk to people. It will make your eyes widen andinstinctively you’ll say, “You have to try this.” Food like that needs friends,because then, in an ideal situation, you’ll end up with a table full of peoplethat keep offering you delicious food items.

Burrata

My two favorite appetizers here are the Burrata et Tomatesand the Carpaccio de Coquille St. Jacques. The latter is thin slices of fresh,raw scallops dotted with pieces of pistachio and dried bits cranberry.

Scallop carpaccio

The burrata is best described as a cloud from heaven thatgot lost and landed on a dinner plate. In case that seems a bit vague, there isthe more vulgar explanation: it’s like a sister of mozzarella, except creamierand sweeter.

Mushroom rigatoni

Shrimp and squid pasta

Of the main dishes, the best by far is the pasta, and if youhappen to have come into some money or are an heir or heiress, ask for a pastadish with fresh truffles and mushrooms. Two fungi are better than one.

Finally come the desserts. La Petite Maison ends its menu asstrongly as it starts, and no single dessert is disappointing, although my favoriteis the Mousse au Chocolat Chaud et Glace a L’Orge. A warm dish of chocolatemousse with malt ice cream melting into its center.

Chocolate mousse, warmed

Cheesecake

Sorbet

Creme brulee

Let me put it this way: despite the fact that 8 people sataround the table, and that we had each had several appetizers and a main dishplus sides, we each ordered our own dessert. And although everyone’s eyeswidened in amazement after the first bite, there was very limited sharing, oroffers to share.

That, my friends, is La Petite Maison.

Practicalities:

La Petite Maison

DIFC Gate 8

Dubai, UAE

+971 44390505

The Blue Margouillat in Reunion

2011-12-29T21:20:00.001-08:00

After our brief foray into thechocolate world, we're back to that island I was telling you aboutbefore, the French African one called La Réunion.It's located in the Indian Ocean, 200 kilometers southwest ofMauritius. Réunion istechnically a part of France, though it has had waves of immigrationfrom Africa, China, Malaysia, and India. Before the French, it wasruled by the Portuguese, and before that, no one is really sure whathappened, although it probably was under Arab rule at some point.

With that history, I had exactly noidea what to expect from Réunion.Once I landed, I was no less confused. The place seems sort ofAfrican, sort of Indian. But everyone speaks French. The locals drivePeugeots during the day and dance to reggaeton at night. Mango treesline the streets alongside Chinese-owned French bakeries.

The idea of trying to find a place toeat was overwhelming. My friends and I had rented a car and drovearound the island almost aimlessly, from Saint Gilles to Saint Leu toother Saint cities. Finally we pulled out the smartphones and lookedup “Reunion restaurant” and found a hotel called the Blue Margouillat.

We decided to go. With little directionbesides a vague address and barely functioning GPS, we climbed upwinding roads into the hillside, overlooking the ocean. After oneparticularly steep hill, a sign with the hotel's logo, an outline ofa little blue gecko, appeared. We followed the signs diligently andfound this:

Less a hotel, more an artsy cottage,something out of the 1800's housing local and European artists,antique wooden chairs, clean white linens, and iron candle holders.On that cool and humid night the Blue Margouillat seemed to be amirage, held in place by the night only to dissipate at the break ofdawn.

The food was as mysterious as theisland, European and possibly French with a distinct Creole style.Cold gazpacho with tomato and basil was spooned over curried crayfishand a goat cheese dumpling.

The beef fillet came pan fried insalted butter and peppercorns, with warm foie gras and wok sauteedvegetables, next to the local Takamaka goat cheese and almonds. Rackof lamb came roasted in gingerbread spices with a side of grilledvegetables and gnocchi.

Coffee at the end of the meal was aristretto from India, described as intense with a powerful character,a spicy alliance of Arabica and South Indian coffees.

Finally, dessert was served. Darkchocolate fondante with fragrant Tonka beans and red berry syrup, anda passion fruit custard with jeweled fresh fruit and miniaturemacarons.

Many things can be said of our dinnerat the Blue Margouillat. The words “excellent” and “unbelievable”were spoken, to be sure. And so I'll leave you the address here, incase you too find yourself on that mysterious island. Let's just hopethat the mirage was real.

Practicalities:

Blue Margouillat Restaurant

Impasse Jean Albany

Saint Leu 97436

+262 (0) 262 34 64 00

Sweet Divas Chocolates, Florida

2011-12-23T08:08:00.000-08:00

The Sweet Diva herself

It was a typical day in St. Petersburg,Florida. The sky was baby blue, the sun was shining, and nothing inparticular was happening. It's a small city, after all, some mightsay a suburb of big brother Tampa. So if you're looking for a reallygood time you have to be a bit creative.* Or find creative people.Like Christy and Jeanne.

These two entrepreneurial ladies, adental hygienist (irony forthcoming) and CFO from Chicago, feltinspired by Walt Disney's whimsical “If you can Dream it, you cando it!” and decided to open a sweets shop in Downtown St. Pete.Sweet Divas is not like the other sweets shops you know, the ones that areactually just retail shops reselling overpriced chocolates andpastries made off premises in someone else's kitchen.

These women make and bake from scratch.Which, considering what they stock, must require some kind of Disneymagic (Florida is lousy with Disney magic, though, so I guess that'sreasonable). They have cupcakes, made from scratch. Cupcakes withnames like “Helen Curly Brown” and “Coconut Chanel”. And ifyou ask for one, they won't pull one off the display case for you--they go in the back and pick a fresh one, kept in the warmth of thekitchen inside.

But if you're in the mood for somethingwarm, you can also try their fresh hot milk or white chocolate.Essentially melted chocolate in a cup, the elixirs are constantlystirred in two large glass vats in the far corner of the shop. Andfeel free to ask for a sample, although it will be hard to turn downa mug if you try just a sip, so you might as well go big from thestart.

Gelato

For those of you visiting from coolerclimes, you may feel silly drinking something hot in Florida, whichis completely fine. Because there is gelato. Homemade gelato (Ireally don't think Christy or Jeanne sleep much, either that or theyhave the 7 dwarves hidden somewhere behind the counter). Gelato, incase you didn't know, is the smoother, creamier cousin of ice cream(who also happens to be lower in fat, due to a lower buttercreamcontent). Their Green Apple Cinnamon flavor is often confused for anactual apple pie (just taste it, you'll see what I mean).

The rest of the shop is filled withequally exciting things, like fine couverture chocolates (try the keylime one), teas and coffees, gift boxes, fresh flowers, frozen dogtreats, homemade muffins and chocolate dipped almond biscotti.

Magical butler with magical chocolate samples

I was wondering what triggered theswitch from dental hygiene to sweet shop diva, and received thisreply: “No one likes going to the dentist, so we decided to open achocolate shop...” It's “prevention” to “promotion”. And Isay promote away, Christy and Jeanne. Promote away. Thanks to you,visitors to Downtown St. Petersburg will never again have to suffer adull day.

*Easier said than done. I had made aspecial effort that day to visit a new art exhibit, but somehow feltless sophisticatedly cultured and more robbed of the $18 entry fee.The Met is practically free, people. Seriously.

Practicalities:

Sweet Divas Chocolates

400 Beach Drive NE

#181

St. Petersburg, FL 33701

Franschhoek, South Africa

2011-12-10T07:01:00.001-08:00

This is one of the most lasting images I have of South Africa. Except it doesn't really scream "South Africa", does it? It's Franschhoek, which means "French Corner" in Afrikaans and refers to the part of South Africa where French Protestants, or Huegenots, sought refuge from persecution in the 17th century.

French cheese, French bread, and French chocolates. It's characteristic of South Africa to play host to a variety of cultural enclaves, drawn to a country with scenery that is at once striking and peaceful. Like this striking and peaceful strawberry cream filled chocolate.

There is a street running through the middle of Franschhoek that hosts several chocolate shops, including Huguenot Fine Chocolates which creates confections made from imported Belgian chocolate.

The problem I always find with these adorably quaint chocolate shops is that I end up buying a few truffles, a couple ganaches, and something cutesy (exhibit A above, the handmade smarties), and leave the shop empty handed, mostly because I have finished them before I walk out of the store. It also tends to stoke my appetite for more chocolate, which is a convenient effect if you happen to be in Franschhoek because down the street you will find Le Chocolatier Factory.

In addition to having very fashionable chocolates and a name that mixes French classiness with English pronouncability, Le Chocolatier Factory has terrific pates des fruits, infused with zingy lemon or tart berries.

This provides a good segue into my next post, and my next trip. I won't tell you where it is, but I'll give you a hint: French island, but African. Until next time.

Practicalities:
Huguenot Fine Chocolates
62 Huguenot Road
Franschhoek, South Africa
+27(0)21 876 4096

Le Chocolatier Factory
Place Vendome, Huguenot Road
Franschhoek, South Africa
+27(0)21 876 2233

Olympia Bakery, Kalk Bay, South Africa

2011-11-26T10:10:00.001-08:00

It was our last full day in Cape Town, and we had a lot of plans. Visiting the Cape of Good Hope, for one, and the Cape Point, since there seemed to be a lot of fuss about capes in this town.

Funnily enough, the fuss turned out to be well deserved, as you can see from above. There was quite a lot of trekking, several strong gusts of salty sea air, and a few strange animals, including this guy, who was surprisingly friendly and unperturbed by the group of humans surrounding him with flashing cameras.

By the end of the day I felt sufficiently nature-y and decided it was time for a good meal. Luckily, a friend of a friend knows what's good to eat in Cape Town and pointed us in the direction of the Olympia Bakery of Kalk Bay. We walked up to the place a bit before sunset, as the weather turned chilly and damp and the wind picked up. Nature is exhausting sometimes and the sight of this cafe, well worn around the edges and filled with warm, freshly baked breads and cookies was more than inviting.

To be honest, though, when we stepped in we were a bit unsure. The tables were empty, the kitchen was exposed... I toyed with the idea that we had been misdirected by the "friend of a friend". It was then that a rusty haired woman in an apron walked up to us and said a cheery "Hello!". I think she was quite intuitive, because she spent the next 5 minutes convincing us to stay with a passion that only true gourmets possess, describing the heavenly delights of South African seafood.

"Just have a seat and order a plate of mussels and a salad, and I'll bring by a plate of fresh bread and the menus. Trust me, you'll love it." I was hooked, I looked around and had flashbacks to some of the best bakeries and cafes in San Francisco, their disregard for the snobbery of high class restaurants in deference to what really matters: good food.

Luckily my friends were nearly delirious with hunger so I managed to convince them too.

The bread came first, which was a bit of an issue because we finished 2 plates before the waitress managed to bring the mussels. Once they came, though, our attention was diverted to the buttery perfection of the mussels, the beige contrasting against the pitch black shells. They swam in a pool of creamy broth that, once the mussels were finished, we sopped up with bread (yes, she brought more), and once that finished we just sipped the rest up with our spoons (we would have used straws if it came down to that).

As was recommended, we picked out a salad too, with roasted butternut squash, goats cheese, avocado, and cherry tomatoes. Afterwards came the main courses: tuna steak, freshly caught and barely seared and Italian polenta topped with ricotta-stuffed aubergines.

At this point the sun had set and the cafe was packed, as were our stomachs. But I have a general principle that states: when you enter a bakery, do not leave without a baked good. And I should let you know that I am quite a principled person, who follows her principles, and so I stuck to this one too.

It's a rare case when the end of a meal is just as exciting as the beginning. But in this case, the humbly named lemon tart managed to impress a full stomach as much as bread and mussels impressed an empty one. The custard was smooth, tangy, sweet, and the layer on top was caramelized like a crème brûlée.

Topped off with a latte and some foam art that resembles either a pigeon with mangled wings or a mythical flying squirrel, it made for a more than satisfying meal. In fact, by the end of it we had grown accustomed to the homey Olympia Bakery and didn't think to leave until a group of waiting customers stood right by our table and peered at us impatiently. At least some people know a good thing when they see it.

Practicalities:

Olympia Cafe and Deli

134 Main Road

7975 Kalk Bay, South Africa

Cape Town Market, South Africa

2011-11-18T22:37:00.001-08:00

I have never been to that part of Africa below the Sahara desert, the part people cleverly call sub-Saharan Africa. Never, that is, until last week. That’s where I was, by the way, as well as a few other places I’ll talk about in good time, and it’s why I have been a bit MIA. More distracted than missing in action, to be accurate.

Distracting, according to the Merriam-Webster Free Dictionary, is the present participle of distract. The second definition of distract is to “Divert (attention (i.e. writing attention)) from something (i.e. my blog)”. So to be distracting is to be diverting, and I can’t think of a better description of Cape Town, South Africa.

Cape Town was like a confluence of all the best aspects of cities I’ve visited before. California’s cold ocean and sloping hills, Switzerland’s towering mountains, Ireland’s lush green landscape, and Byblos’ beach town feel.

But despite the mountains, oceans, cliffs, etc., the number one recommended destination in our guide book was the Cape Town Market. I found this odd… oddly satisfying. So I went.

The market is divided into two halves, which I can best describe as food and non-food. The non-food section is filled with things like vintage clothes and designer jewelry, and if I were a fashion blogger I would have enough commentary to fill 3 blogs’ worth of pages. But I’m not.

The food side is tricky. There are a few actual brick-and-mortar food stores, like gold nuggets tucked between distracting non-food paraphernalia. Like CocoáFair, which claims to be Africa’s only bean-to-bar chocolate factory founded on social entrepreneurship. To me, this reads like a job description sent directly from heaven.

The sign

The factory

The sign for CocoáFair points to an alley, which leads to stairs, which lead to a basement factory with beans roasting, winnowing, conching, and melting into a stream of continuous deep brown chocolate. I tasted a sample then promptly felt a “snap” inside my brain. The next few minutes are blurry, but I emerged with a bag of truffles and caramels, a bar of milk chocolate, and a smile.

If only I could have bought them all...

Chocolate bark

Truffles

I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet so I made a special effort to save the truffles for later. That failed. So I made a double effort to save the caramels, which also failed. Then I meandered into a shop full of knick-knacks without any particular theme and found biltong.

Beef biltong

“Bil-what?” you say? Biltong. It’s a South African spiced meat (beef, ostrich, anything else that’s game-y) that’s dried and cured, like jerky in the states. I took a chew and found it quite chewy. It was then that I discovered that I’m not the biltong type.

I kept on walking and saw a very crowded espresso shop, which I passed by, because in the distance I saw something more intriguing: a white tent. An enormous white tent with streams of people filtering in, and very few people coming out. In a market this generally means “Food Here”.

So I grabbed a friend (you always need an ally in these situations) and marched in. The first thing I saw was Belgian waffles, gauffres lièges, which are not strictly South African but are strictly delicious and which had recently appeared in a dream to me. So I grabbed one and my friend and I ate it hot, nearly burning our tongues with the caramelized sugariness of it all.

The Gauffre

The French Quarter

Quiche

We trotted on and passed by quiches and tarts and French cheeses until fresh oysters came into view. My friend is a sucker for fresh oysters. Especially the kinds that are sitting on wooden planks with a wedge of lemon next to them, asking to be slurped up right that instant. So we ordered two and slurped away. The briny sliminess of it all was a reminder that Cape Town is in fact a seafood haven (more on that later).

Tempting oysters

Paella

Next came the Frying Dutchman, a stand dedicated to mini dutch babies, a type of pancake I have had on my mental list of “to try’s” since Orangette told us the story of her friend Jimmy. They puffed up nice and with cinnamon, powdered sugar, and maple syrup, tasted a bit like buttery sweet clouds of dough.

The Frying Dutchman

Baby Dutch babies

Dutch babies, all dressed up

At this point my friend and I were fairly full. Not belly-bulging full, but sated. Well, not fully sated but maybe normal people full. So there was room for one more thing, which turned out to be mushroom skewers. Prongs of fresh, wild mushrooms grilled and charred and buttered. And they had a nice bite to them (if mushrooms can be al dente, these were).

Mushroom skewers

The Cape Town Market sees itself as the protector of the South African farmer. “The farmer is our principal client”. Markets like these are timeless cultural phenomena, straddling the line between traditionalism and modernism. They are humble and grand, local wares that attract global eaters. I’ve done it enough times that now I am convinced: if you want to get to know the best of a city, in as short a time as possible, you have just one thing to do. Go to market.

Practicalities:
Old Biscuit Mill Saturday Market
Albert Road, The Old Biscuit Mill
Woodstock, Cape Town
Saturday 9am-2pm

Cuchi Cuchi, Cambridge, MA

2011-11-03T14:44:00.000-07:00

“On July 26, 2001, Tamara Bourso and Fernanda da Silvaopened Cuchi Cuchi.”

If I had read this line before my last dinner in Boston, Iwould not have thought I was going to dinner. In fact, even after I steppedinto the joint I was not sure I was going to dinner. Cuchi Cuchi is not a normal dinner place (Editor’snote: A “dinner place” is also known as a restaurant, I’m not sure why I usedthe term “dinner place” here…).

The hostess and waitresses are dressed quite strangely,almost like flappers from the 20’s, but not quite. Almost like flamencodancers, but not quite. Almost like Liz Taylor, but not quite.

The décor is from la belle époque, Old World Beauty,with a wooden bar and stained glass windows. Pictures of Carmen Miranda and 3signed photographs of Dita Von Teese hang on the walls. And fashionablemannequins seem to hover over the dining tables.

The tables are seemingly normal, unless, like us, you areseated with Chico Chica Boom. Chico Chica Boom is not a person, but a “table”with LED lights which are touch-sensitive, and which makes it seem like ananimate object. If you have any hopes of having a productive conversationduring your dinner, do not sit with Chico Chica Boom.

The menu is also quirky, with schizophrenicallyinternational dishes, all in miniature, and all intensely delicious. LikeInsalata del Liquria, with endives, romaine, black Sicilian olives, Gorgonzola,and chestnut honey.

Or Moroccan Chicken Tagine, with preserved lemons andsundried tomatoes, on a bed of fluffy couscous.

You might also find the Grilled Eggplant Napoleoninteresting, with its roasted tomato and pepper ragout and herbed goat cheese.It’s a stack of eggplants, but a short stack (Napoleon complex?).

At the end of the meal there is a fashion show, put on byyour favorite desserts. There is the tiramisu, with its tall slender goblet andfanned headpiece. Or the regal chocolate cake, adorned with raspberries andvanilla cream sauce, plus a few gold accoutrements. Or the lovably rotund icecream ball , coated in chocolate and bits of crackly crispies.

After the experience of dining at Cuchi Cuchi, I can saywith confidence that it is indeed a restaurant, and a great one at that. And itseems to have been created by great people, given all the work they’ve put intothe place.

So the next time you’re in Boston and are considering bakedbeans for dinner, please my darling, reconsider.

Practicalities:

Cuchi Cuchi

795 Main Street

Cambridge, MA 02139

Tel: 617.864.7997

Tiny Boxwood's, Houston

2011-10-30T14:33:00.000-07:00

In terms of food, Texas is famous forbig things. Texas toast is an oversized loaf of bread coated withgarlic, oil and parsley and toasted gold. A Texas steak house willserve enormous ribeye steaks and have a logo that involves some sortof steed or bull with intimidatingly sharp horns. A BBQ in Texascould pass for a wedding banquet in many countries (assuming thebride is given an appropriately sized napkin). The cuisine isgenerously portioned and generously caloric. It fits Texas'personality, a state so large it was once its own country.

And that brings me to Tiny Boxwood's, acafe set in the nursery of a landscape architecture firm in Houston.Now I realize this last sentence makes me seem a bit unfocused. I'veset the backdrop for a larger-than-life Texas with cowboys andsaloons then tell you about a cafewith the word tiny inits name. The landscape architecture firm thing is probably a bitconfusing as well.

Turnsout Texas has some tricks up her sleeves, like a prim green lawnsurrounded by wooden dinner tables and cutting boards stacked withfreshly baked bread (that I'm sure would make for great Texas toast),whipped goat cheese, basil pesto, and kalamata olives.

Artisanal bread

Theseasonal dinner menu is chic, that's for sure, but hearty as well.The pizzas are wood-fired with fresh mozzarella or figs and bluecheese. A filet of red snapper will sit between a heap of butterymashed potatoes and oniony tomato salsa. Lest you forget you are infrontier town, there will be a buffalo filet or braised short ribs onstandby for extravagant Friday nights.

Margherita pizza

Texas snapper

Andall the while, candle-lit lanterns keep the night bright and slow,smooth Southern rhythm and blues plays on in the background, gentlycoaxing you and your dinner partners into mellow, soothingconversation. It also helps that Tiny's makes perfect chocolate chipcookies, freshly baked and crisp on the outside while gooey on theinside.

And incase you've forgotten you're in Texas, or if this unexpected side ofthe lone star state has left you craving something a bit more, well,Texan, then have no fear.

TheWild West is just next door, replete with silver saddles and flannelshirts. And if you're lucky, you might find a cowboy who will showyou how to square dance the night away.

Practicalities:

TinyBoxwood's Cafe

3614West Alabama St.

Houston,Texas, 77027

713-622-4224

Bent Spoon, Princeton, NJ

2011-10-24T13:48:00.000-07:00

So I arrive to the states several daysago and realize that I've forgotten my ATM card. And my cash. I havemy credit card, which means I can buy almost anything, unless it'sunder $5 in which case the seller will decide that my purchase is notworth his credit card fee.

Ice creams and sorbets

Bent Spoon's buttercream chocolate cupcakes

It also means that I cannot buy a scoopof ice cream and a cupcake from my favorite (cash only) sweets shopin the states. Bent Spoon is a mom and pop ice creamery and bakeryrun out of Princeton, New Jersey. But despite it's diminutive sizeand local “in the know” vibe (they call their employees“spoonies” and most of their ice cream flavors use localingredients) they are in fact big news, featured in the likes ofepicurious and New York magazine.

Fresh baked goodies

But Bent Spoon doesn't need theacknowledgement of foodie bigwigs to be legit. The place is legendaryon Princeton University's campus (just a stone's throw away) and hasbeen known to lure back alumni with the mere thought of their darkchocolate sorbet or buttercream cupcakes.

It has also been known to lure me backfor their crème fraiche ice cream, mango sorbet, and freshly bakedpeanut butter cookies. I remember one special day when I tried theirice cream cookie sandwiches and swooned. And there was the time Ientered a sugar coma after trying their super dense hot chocolate.

Vanilla salted caramel and dark chocolate sorbet

The threat of missing out on Bent Spoonbecause of my cash-free wallet was almost panic enducing. Lucky forme (or really, luckily for my bank) I had another ATM card whichgenerously allowed me to withdraw money at a 10% interest rate. Butto be honest, for Bent Spoon, I would have paid even more.

Practicalities:

Bent Spoon

35 Palmer Square West

Princeton, NJ

(609) 924-2368

Bartley's, Boston

2011-10-17T15:03:00.000-07:00

One of the best things about traveling is getting to see friends who live far away. One of the worst things is being reminded that you have friends who live far away. I happen to have a particularly brainy friend who lives in Boston and goes to Hah-vahd (I actually did not hear anyone pronounce it that way when I was there) and showed me around the famous collegiate diners and dives.

Having a burger in Boston, across the street from America's most iconic university, felt a bit cheeky. It was almost like going to England and having tea and scones at Harrod's. Or eating a croissant in Paris. Or having a shamrock shake in Ireland (ok that might be a stretch).

The list of burgers at Bartley's is a mile long, and each burger is named after a famous politico (Bill Clinton, Ted Kennedy) or a trendy topic (the Facebook, the iPhone) and paired with a clever description (the Ted Kennedy is a plump, liberal amount of burger with cheddar cheese, grilled mushrooms, and french fries).

As I was digging into my plate of famous sweet potato fries, I heard someone call my name. I turned around and found two old friends from college (what is it with people going to Harvard?) who I haven't seen in years. Apparently Bartley's is the Cheers of Boston, which made me feel even cheekier, in a good way. It's not exactly that everybody knows your name, but you definitely are glad you came.

Practicalities:

Bartley's Gourmet Burgers
1246 Massachusetts Ave
Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138, United States

(617) 354-6559

Three colleges, three coffee shops

2011-10-10T19:46:00.000-07:00

I recently took a trip to threecolleges in New England. That part of the states, in the fall, islike a Hallmark greeting card: brisk autumn air, old brick buildings,and sweatpants-clad collegiates rushing to class. The smell of coffeeseems to cling permanently to the air. And the coffee there is notlike California’s, which seems to be more an artistic expressionthan a warm accompaniment to breakfast. Nor is it like Europeancoffee, which rounds off a long lunch with a quick shot of bitterenergy.

Instead, the coffee in New England islike a morning ritual; it’s intellectual and cool, fair trade andorganic, practically utilitarian (except for the rare foam art).

Cafe Crema in Cambridge

Crème Café in Cambridge, the HarvardUniversity staple, is the epitome of coffee symbolism. Baristas inangular glasses take your order with no-frills efficiency and serveit up in a simple ceramic mug. The atmosphere is focused andacademic, and it gobbles you up. I took three sips of my latte beforerealizing that a fern-like image had been created in my foam.

Equally distracting are the granolabars. In any other setting, I would have glanced over them, optinginstead for a scone or croissant. But it called to me: a square ofhoney-sweet oats flecked with ruby red craisins and lime greenpistachios. It tasted buttery and warm, not at all granola-bar like.

A few miles down the coast at Yale Ifound Blue State Coffee, a hard find not only because of its off thebeaten track location, but because its Yale blueness made it almostdisappear into the bulldog blue background.

This is a serious café, for seriousstudents. Not a single person didn’t have their nose in a book (orglued to a laptop screen), and every item in the store washealth-conscious, including the vegan banana bread (delicious, by theway).

Vegan banana bread at Blue State

Instead of heavy duty mugs, the latteshere come served in sleek glass cups, which I think makes adifference. Hot liquids tend to sop up the taste of whatever’saround them, and I have heard the theory that coffee served in aglass tastes better than coffee served in ceramic.

The last stop was Princeton’s SmallWorld Coffee. The coffee house is equally famous for its vanilla milksteamers as it is for its cappuccinos.

And though the clientele is againmostly students, I noticed a few elbow patched-sports coat-wearingprofessors hanging around as well, and if you’re the type toeavesdrop (who, me?) you might overhear a Nobel-prize winningeconomist assess the state of the nation’s fiscal policy. You justmight.

Practicalities:
Crema Cafe

27 Brattle Street
Cambridge, MA02138, United States
(617) 876-2700

Blue State Coffee

84 Wall Street

New Haven, CT 06511, United States

(203) 764-2632

Small World

254 Nassau Street
Princeton, NJ 08542, United States

(609) 924-4377 x3

Alice's Tea Cup, Chapter I, NYC

2011-09-30T09:47:00.000-07:00

I've been wanting to write about this place for 5 years. Long before Alice in Wonderland was a "two thumbs up" Johnny Depp flick, before Japanese Alice-themed school supplies, even before people caught on to the fact that Alice-themed teapots would sell like hotcakes, there was one little shop on West 73rd Street in New York City that understood the magic of Alice.

I was doing an internship in New York that summer, and found the city overwhelming. There were too many shops to visit, plays to see, markets to peruse, book stores to explore... The City was like an unknowable beast and I was mesmerized and frazzled by all it had to offer. The feeling was not unlike what Alice felt when she first entered Wonderland and met the Cheshire Cat:

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to gofrom here?"

"That depends a good deal on where you want to getto," said the Cat.

"I don’t much care where--" said Alice.

"Then it doesn’t matter which way you go," saidthe Cat.

"--so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Alice added as anexplanation.

"Oh, you’re sure to do that," said the Cat,"if you only walk long enough."

Then one weekend, an older, wiser, more sophisticated friend of mine invited me to brunch at a place she called "Alice's". I had read Carroll's Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass so I expected some tea, maybe a few biscuits, and a creepy stuffed cat or two. I did not expect what I found.

Chapter I

Fairies' dresses and wings

Alice's Tea Cup, from the outside, looks a little like a magical shop nestled into an otherwise plain street. It's almost bursting with Alice's fantastical world, with twinkle lights and curly-cued words streaming out from it's storefront onto the sidewalk.

The pastry counter

The famous Pumpkin Scones

Lemon raspberry scone with fresh cream and raspberry preserves

Inside, the busy city melts away into a sugar frosted world of enormous scones, mad hatter cups and saucers, and dozens of silver tea canisters. Little girls who visit Alice's are greeted with a sprinkling of "fairy dust" (glitter) and invited to choose a costume hanging on the wall. In the tea room, when you sit down, words from Lewis Carroll's tome are scrawled on the walls, and if you look closely you can find the Cheshire's grin peeking out at you.

Silver tea canisters

The menu is a replica of the Mad Hatter's party, where you begin to feel like a shrunken mini-Alice feasting on oversized fresh baked scones, goblets of fresh berries doused in creme anglaise, and charmingly mismatched sets of tea cups filled with one of their 200 varieties of tea, like Castleton Estate, with its "lovely amber color" and "complex muscatel flavor". As you sit at vintage converted sewing tables drink from their signature teapots with sponge "drip catchers" attached to their spouts, life becomes a bit like a fairy tale.

Teapots with a butterfly drip catcher

Now, Alice's has opened two additional chapters on New York's East side, so overwhelmed out of towners can more easily find a shop that they too will call their own. So here's to Alice's, and to New York, one of the few cities in the world where you can find a magical world within a bustling metropolis.

Practicalities:
Alice's Tea Cup
102 West 73rd St # 1

New York, NY 10023

(212) 799-3006

My window sign

2011-09-26T16:36:00.000-07:00

Want to do your own 100 Days Project? Just e-mail 100daysprojectgroup@gmail.com

Success!

2011-09-26T16:13:00.000-07:00

I was walking by a cupcake store in Princeton when I noticed a huge sign hanging in their window, loudly proclaiming to the world that they had won Food Network's Cupcake Wars. This is exciting, I thought, what a large achievement for a little store in a little town on a little street.

Then I realized that my little blog has achieved something somewhat grand for it's tiny scale. I've finished the 100 Days Project challenge! For 100 Days I ate good food, took pictures of it, and blogged about it (with a few lapses in discipline here and there that we don't need to mention). So for a couple days I am going to hang a sign in my shop window, too...

On the street in Paris

2011-09-26T16:04:00.000-07:00

Street food in Paris. It looks like the Sugarplum Fairy from Candyland threw up on a hotdog stand (in a cute way).

Sole meuniere

2011-09-25T10:51:00.000-07:00

Have you ever seen Julie and Julia? It's a movie about Julia Child and a food blogger who decides to spend one year cooking one Julia Child recipe per day. It's based on a true story and manages to be both authentic and heartwarming, sort of like the film version of a warm bowl of chicken noodle soup. There's one scene in the film where they flash back to Julia Child's life. She sits in a restaurant in Paris with her husband and orders a sole meuniere, which is one of France's most classic dishes: simply a filet of sole, a white flaky fish, dipped in flour and pan fried in browned butter, with a bit of lemon. When the dish arrives to Julia's table, the waiter shows her the fish with a flourish then proceeds to debone it for her. Julia takes a bite and her reaction is like an epiphany and leaves her speechless, with her husband sympathetically saying to her "I know, I know..." (how great that her husband understands such important things).

On my last night in Paris I visited Brasserie Lorraine, on the Place Ternes. I saw the sole meuniere on the menu and ordered it immediately. It was my first time. And when the plate arrived, the waiter showed it to me with a flourish then proceeded to debone it. I took my first bite and swooned. The dish was perfect on its own, accompanied by three small, buttery, perfect potatoes and nothing else.

Practicalities:
Brasserie Lorraine
2 Place Ternes
75008 Paris, France
+33 (0)1 56 21 22 00

Angelina

2011-09-24T12:23:00.000-07:00

I woke up on my second day in Paris and had one thing on my mind: Angelina. After lunch at Maison de Campagne my friends and I wanted dessert. And since I had been telling them about the lists of dessert shops I wanted to visit while in Paris, they indulged me with choosing the first place. It's very touristy and located in the center of Paris, but don't be deterred by that... even my French friends were impressed by the place.

Mont Blancs in a case

Angelina is where Coco Chanel and Audrey Hepburn used to have tea. Today it's more than just a tea salon, serving breakfast and light lunch, but they are most famous for two items: the Mont Blanc, and chocolat a l'Africain. The Mont Blanc is a swirl of marrons glaces paste, dusted with powdered sugar (like snow on a mountain) and sitting on top of a light meringue and a heart of cream.

The other item they're famous for is hot chocolate. This is not for the weak. It is literally meted chocolate, poured into a cup, and topped with freshly whipped cream. The cream tends to sit on top of the chocolate since it is actually less dense than the "liquid" below it and then it sort of melts and melds slowly into it, creating the richest drink you will have ever tasted. I still have never found anything drinkable that is that rich. But I'm not surprised... if it's good enough for Audrey, it has to be pretty amazing.

Practicalities:
Angelina
226 Rue de Rivoli
75001, Paris, France

Maison de Campagne

2011-09-22T20:31:00.000-07:00

Well, it took me some time but eventually I found it... a good French bistro, in Paris. Ironic how difficult it is to find a metropolis' true character within its own city walls, no? The focus of this meal happened to be seafood, with salmon and ray (as in sting) as main courses and salmon tartare as an appetizer.

Salmon tartare

Baked salmon

Ray

Three things made this meal authentic:
1. The dishes were presented beautifully, even though it's just the neighborhood bistrot.
2. We were served our courses at a leisurely rate, so lunch took 2 full hours. I don't usually take that much time to eat in a full day.
3. There were French people in the restaurant (actually not so common in Paris)

Oh, and one more thing, we found hanging above the table:

Practicalities:
Maison de Campagne

18 bis, ruePierre Demours

75017 Paris,France

+33 (0)1 45 72 2851

The Tale of Three Creperies

2011-09-22T20:14:00.000-07:00

One night (in Paris), one island (ile Saint Louis), threecreperies. Let’s call it Goldilocks in Paris.

Stop at creperie one: A completely empty restaurant, withtables for four and one small table for two. A request for a roomier table gotan angry glare and refusal… on to creperie two.

A nice place with a nice owner, good cheese and generousportions, but something was missing…

Creperie number three, better known as Au Lys d’Argent. Onecold glass of Orangina and a gallette (buckwheat crepe) aux trois fromages.Crispy, melty, and just right.

Practicalities:

Au Lys d’Argent

90 Rue St Louisen l'ile

75004 Paris,France

+33 (0)1 46 33 5613

Oui oui escargot

2011-09-20T21:28:00.001-07:00

Tried for the first time in Paris. Delicious with mayo. Who knew?

Pozzetto Gelato

2011-09-18T17:57:00.000-07:00

This is what it's all about. Gelato is an Italian word. And so when you have gelato, it should be made by an Italian. Even when you're in Paris. No, no, please don't argue with me on this one. I'll concede the point the next time we're having a foodie argument, but on this please do not protest. And if skepticism still grips you, spend some time at Pozzetto.

I'm struggling to remember now how I first discovered Pozzetto... was it that I walked into the small street it sits on by accident and fell in love with the Coppa Valeria? Or did I hear it from David Lebovitz, who seems to always point me in the right direction for Parisian food?

It doesn't matter. Because I remember when I first went to Pozzetto, it was almost always empty (and I went a couple times a week), and now that I return it is full, with a line snaking out onto the sidewalk. The people at Pozzetto have created heavenly gelato, flavors like Gianduia Torinese (chocolate hazelnut, with fresh hazelnuts from Turin), Fior di Latte (a creamy, milky flavor), and Cioccolato Fondente (dark chocolate). They also have sorbets, which I have not tried because I'm distracted by the above, and they have sauces, including a homemade Nutella-like chocolate paste that I have tried because of what I'm about to show you.

That, my friends, is the Coppa Valeria. It is exquisite. It is timeless. It is not to be shared. Cioccolato Fondente with Gianduia Torinese, drizzled with hazelnut chocolate sauce and the secret of its success, coulis de myrtille (blueberry sauce). A dollop of fresh cream and an espresso on the side and you have absolutely nothing to worry about for the next 30 minutes, because life as you know it will cease to exist and instead you will be confronted with a barrage of sweetness, tartness, creaminess, nuttiness... and nothing else.

Do you want to try it?

Practicalities:
Pozzetto
39 rue du roi de Sicile
Paris, France

L'Atelier du Chocolat

2011-09-17T19:47:00.000-07:00

Before I ever visited Paris I thought hot chocolate came only in powdered form. It was something you bought in individual paper sachets then mixed with hot water and drank fast enough to warm you up but not so fast that you would burn your tongue. But like I said, that was before I came to Paris.

It was a muggy summer day and I was walking from the Marais towards the Bastille on Rue de Rivoli, the main stretch of road that runs parallel to the Seine on the rive droite. It's not a particularly nice stretch of street... you mostly find pharmacies, small grocers, and a few luggage shops for desperate tourists. But tucked in between these somewhat unappealing attractions is something actually quite appealing: L'Atelier de Chocolat.

I mean, in most parts of the world a name like that is just kitschy, used as more of a "theme" than a reality. Sort of like restaurants with the word "factory" in the title. You're not expecting to see conveyor belts. But this tiny shop is truly an atelier, a workshop, where large slabs of chocolate, freshly tempered, sit on wooden carving desks. Some parts of that chocolate go into making divine bars of chocolate, truffles, and ganaches, but what you should really focus on is the hot chocolate.

I bought my first packet of it here four years ago. I took it home with me and read the directions on the back: place warm milk in a pan on the stove, heat it until just before boiling, remove from heat, and add in chocolate. Allow to melt and mix, heating again and stirring until it becomes thick. I followed the directions diligently and watched the whiteness of the milk turn to beige, then caramel tones, and then, in an instant, flip to deep dark chocolately brown, with the consistency of a milk shake. I spent years trying to find more hot chocolate like this one (at any moment in the past four years my pantry had 2-3 types) but was only able to replicate it once by shaving pieces of high quality dark chocolate myself, and even then it wasn't a sure-fire solution.

So on this visit to Paris, I wanted to return to the Atelier. But I didn't know the address. So I stayed on Rue de Rivoli and walked from the Bastille up to the Marais and there it was, still in the same location, with the same chocolate, and the same recipe for chocolat chaud (I was assured of it by the women there). This time, I bought two packs.

Practicalities:
L'Atelier de Chocolat
Multiple locations (wish I knew that sooner)

It's Paris

2011-09-16T18:39:00.000-07:00

I'll always remember the place where I discovered my love for food. It was the summer of 2010 and I was an idealistic college student, fresh from a semester of French classes and itching to transform my stilted conversational language skills into the florid, languid dialect of the Parisians. That summer still represents a collage in my mind of images of pure beauty, for I experienced the city of Paris in full detail, scouring the city by foot without stepping once into the metro for fear of missing something.

And now I'm back.

The first thing I do on my morning in Paris is look for a bakery. A vintage store selling knick knacks bought at the country brocantes catches my eye and so I duck in to browse a bit, and ask the woman behind the counter where she goes for her croissant. "The bakery down the street with the blue awning," she says to me in French.

And so I dutifully follow her advice and find a bakery that looks like part of a poster advert for the quintessential Parisian neighborhood. The patrons include an old French man who dashes in, orders, and is out faster than I can say "pain de mie", and a group of teenage boys that have that bizarre French gangster look that seems so out of place when they order a baguette and a chocolat chaud.

I order what I know is best at this time of day: a croissant aux amandes. Buttery, flaky croissant filled with a marzipan cream, topped with sliced almonds and baked until crackly and golden brown. I order a small cafe beside it and find a few steps to sit on while I take that one first magical bite that fills my mouth with the sweet douceur of fresh baked pastries and a heady scent of almonds.

This continues for some time and all I can think of is how this moment is my most favorite one: where you come to a city that has a life and beauty so strong that it is uncapturable, hanging around you and lifting your senses but always just out of reach. Then you take a bite of something delicious and for a moment you have it in your grasp, the exact definition of what makes that city what it is. But a moment, by definition, passes quickly, and the epiphany passes with it. Until the next meal.

Transit in Dubai

2011-09-14T12:54:00.000-07:00

Back to the airport where I am about to keel over from lack of sleep and excess cabin air. I have altitude hair and a pit in my stomach, and then I see something that is like a beacon of hope.

Fresh baked cookies, coming out of an oven, right in front of you, in Dubai Airport's Terminal 3. A few months ago my friend had told me about a cookie shop opening in Dubai. At the time I didn't pay much attention to the tip because I figured there are already a million cookie shops, right? But the thing is, there are hardly any with ovens right there in front of you, churning out gooey, warm, morsels of deliciousness in the middle of an airport terminal.

I should fly more often.

Practicalities:
Ben's Cookies
Terminal 3, Dubai Airport
Dubai, UAE

Gardens abroad Part II

2011-09-14T11:49:00.000-07:00

After Zurich I made a quick stop to Amman for a friend's wedding. I haven't been to Jordan many times, but Amman has always felt to me like a small town where everyone knows everyone else, life is calm and relaxed, and people pay attention to details. Family seems to be the center of life and although some locals say it's "boring", they seem to be doing something right.

At one family lunch, I found a plate of green sliced vegetables sitting in front of me. They looked like cucumber but tasted a bit sweeter. It turns out they are called "fa'oos" in Arabic. I have no idea what this translates into in English and unfortunately neither did my hosts. But they did show me the unsliced version of the veggie, which looks like a fat, pale cucumber that sort of looked like a Persian cucumber blown up like a balloon.

I couldn't figure out why I hadn't seen this veggie in the produce section of my local grocer, when I realized that a good portion of the food on the table had come from the garden just outside. That was why everything tasted so good, and probably why I had never seen a fa'oos before.

The garden had watermelons, lemons, and pomegranates. It was small but plentiful and well taken care of. It reminded me of Voltaire's Candide, where we were dutifully instructed: "Il faut cultiver notre jardin." We must cultivate our garden, take the time to slow down, pay attention, and cultivate our lives. Things might seem slow, but it turns out there's good in the slow.

Gardens abroad

2011-09-14T11:34:00.000-07:00

I was walking down the street in Zurich on my last day there and noticed a small patch of green dotted with what looked like yellow plastic light bulbs.

I got a bit closer and realized they were plants... squash to be exact. It was the strangest thing I had ever seen, and I realized that I've never seen squash growing in its natural state before. And here was this little apartment building in Zurich, with squash growing in the backyard, like it's no big deal.

It was probably one of the most charming things I saw in Zurich, so I stopped to take about 30 pictures, until I realized that the apartment building had windows, and those windows probably had people looking out of them, and I probably looked like either an idiot or an international spy. I know the Swiss are neutral, but they probably wouldn't like having an international spy photographing their squash. So I made a run for it.

Movenpick

2011-09-14T11:33:00.000-07:00

Lake Zurich (with swans)

This city is beautiful. No, it's gorgeous. Look at this lake. That's Swiss water. Evian comes from Swiss water. When I walk by this lake I think, "Wow, I'm going to miss this city. It's so pretty it almost distracts me from all the food there is to eat." But I think I found a sign that points to me coming back here sooner than I think. Look at what I found on my last day walking through the city:

An old friend... you may or may not remember that I have a soft spot for Movenpick ice cream. It's Egypt's favorite ice cream brand and so I always associate it with Egypt. It somehow slipped my mind that the ice cream is in fact Swiss made, and would probably be sold in Switzerland because of that fact (my deductive skills seem to be on the wane).

So I bought a cone, this time the Panna Cotta flavor, which apparently is one of the "classics". It's sweet cream mixed with raspberry coulis. Stepping outside into the hot Zurich summer day made the ice cream soften and wilt a little, until the flavors reached their peak and my patience reached its limit. Who could say no to this?

"Eat me"

So with my belly full of ice cream and my mind full of memories of Switzerland I hobbled back to the train for my ride to the hotel and one last interesting food experience before leaving Zurich.

Practicalities:
Movenpick Ice Cream
Theaterstrasse 8, 8001 Zürich, Switzerland

+41 43 268 04 20

Morning market in Zurich

2011-09-11T14:11:00.000-07:00

Whenever I travel for business the trips are short and the days are long. That’s a good thing in principle—long days translate into satisfying visits, with sightseeing and exploration and maybe an adventure or two. But usually around day three I’m exhausted. It really becomes a problem when the first thing I think of when I wake up stops being “Breakfast!” and starts being more of a groan with mumblings about more sleep.

So on the third morning in Zurich I was mumbling and walking around at 7am when I stumbled upon a market. I always forget about this when I come to Europe, but the people here are morning people. Their stores may close at 6pm with lights off at ten but they will be there for you right when you wake up, helping you get through dawn.

This market was particularly helpful, almost like a close friend coaxing me out of my stupor and getting me from grumbling to garrulous. First came the fresh flower market, with sherbet colored roses arranged in painted tin buckets.

Then a parade of fresh fruits and vegetables, like an illustration from a children’s book. Deep purple plums and bright green pears. Velvety peaches and waxy yellow string beans. Bunches of chili peppers so red I wish Chanel would make a nail polish in their shade. Plus all sorts of roots and tubers, like carrots and radishes, leeks and onion bulbs.

And at the end of a line, to give you a warm hug hello, was a baker’s stand with fresh loaves of eggy braided brioche and traditional Swiss sourdough rolls. I may not be a morning person, but that morning I was.

Hero Chocolate Paste

2011-09-11T14:04:00.000-07:00

Swiss jam maker Hero has a chocolate hazelnut paste. And thank goodness for Swiss practicality—they’ve made it in a portable petit pot. This goes in my purse.

Gummy Bear Paradise

2011-09-11T14:00:00.003-07:00

Hey guys! Anyone want a cake made out of gummy candies? How about a pizza made out of gummies? No? Apparently someone does. And I’m not sure exactly why, but I have a suspicion the Swiss ninja-bear has something to do with it…

Pretzels in the Metro

2011-09-09T15:19:00.000-07:00

Metro food is always a mixed bag. Usually it's somewhat of an anesthetic, meant to dull your mind and senses via copious amounts of sugar and/ or fat to make the unpleasant ride somewhat bearable. People might hate taking the subway, but they'll complain a lot less if they're stuffing their faces with a Krispy Kreme.

In Zurich things are a bit different. Actually completely different. The trains are almost fun to take. They arrive on time, practically down to the second (the Swiss make watches). Speaking of punctuality, another Germanic characteristic of Swiss culture is their affinity for pretzels. Patrons of public transportation can order a freshly baked (baked, not fried) pretzel (pretzel, not donut) from compact efficient little kiosks right in front of the station. And in line with Swiss elegance and class, their "fast food" logos do not include red haired clowns or hamburger thieves, just a regal crown atop a twisty pretzel.

Pretzels baking

Breakfast at Sprungli's

2011-09-07T04:45:00.000-07:00

I was sitting in a coffee shop with two friends one afternoon in Zurich. It was actually less of a coffee shop and more of an outdoor bar that happens to have coffee. They serve no food except focaccia (which seemed like a non sequitur to me but I let it pass). Anyway I was convinced that the place seemed quite authenticly Swiss, since we were surrounded by affluent patrons with perfect hair and tailored suits. We also could not communicate with the waiter in any way, despite using elaborate hand gestures and over-enunciation of English words.

Once we figured out how to order coffee (kaffee, in German, FYI) we started having a conversation in Arabic, assuming that surely no one around us would understand. If you speak another language I'm sure you understand the thrill of using it in a foreign setting-- no one will understand you, so you can loudly complain about being force fed focaccia in a Swiss restaurant with no repercussions.

Unless someone understands you. Which is what happened to us. Luckily our Arabic speaking neighbor was quite sweet-- she sat next to us, played UN translator with the waiter, and told us about the best places to eat in Zurich. Before she left we made a promise to have breakfast at one of those places: Sprungli.

Sprungli is one of the oldest cafes and chocolatiers in Switzerland. I'll come back to the chocolate bit later, but for now take a peek at the cafe itself. Remember the affluent patrons that were at the coffee/focaccia bar? They've got nothing on Sprungli cafe.

If you sit downstairs (upstairs is a full restaurant) you will sit on dark wooden benches next to a coffee and tea bar with a selection of viennoiseries, each aglow with a spotlight, as if on display in a museum. There is a distinctly French air, with croissants and brioche, some flecked with chocolate and others salty with cheese. The tea and coffee are served in fine china, each with a square of dark chocolate. It's so chic they won't even serve large glasses of water (seriously, my friend was thirsty and they offered her what amounted to a thimble full of water).

Now just next door is the sweets store...

Practicalities:
Sprungli
Bahnhofstrasse 21
8001 Zurich, Switzerland

044 224 46 46

This is why I love Switzerland

2011-09-07T04:13:00.000-07:00

They obviously know what's important in life...

Péclard, Zurich, Switzerland

2011-09-04T02:04:00.000-07:00

Péclard

When I found out that I was traveling to Zurich, the first thing I did was Google “Zurich food blogs”. My favorite one was called MyKugelhopf, written by Kerrin Rousset who is an expat living in Zurich. She offers gourmet tours of the city on her website, but since I’m in town for a 72-hour conference, my schedule was a little, let’s say, inflexible.

So I e-mailed Kerrin, fully expecting no response, or at best a standardized one-line automated reply. It turns out I was wrong, and Kerrin e-mailed me back a very nice invitation to join her tours another time as well as her recommendation for one of Zurich’s most famous pastry shops.

It was my first international foodie connection and I was so excited to see the shop that I printed a map and brought it with me to the conference and asked almost everyone I met if they wanted to check it out with me. I received a few strange looks but eventually met three lovely girls who seemed at least intrigued by my find.

At 9pm we set out to find the pastry shop. The map I had found called it “Café Conditorei Schober” (which, if you read Kerrin’s post about it, was Zurich’s most famous café, now under different ownership). We asked a local where it would be and they pointed us in the direction of the old city.

After crawling through alleys and past overcrowded clubs, we found it tucked into a 14^th century Swiss building with a large candelabra out front surrounded by wrought iron chairs and café tables. It is now called Péclard, but I like to call it heaven.

From the inside, the shop looks like a house from the Romantic period, with crown molding and gold chandeliers with lamp shades the shape of flower petals. It was very French, which is fitting since Switzerland’s three languages include German, Romansh, and French. Heavy glass jars are stacked one on top of the other, with flavors like almonds with marzipan and roasted fig with rose and pistachio. Next to the tower of jams is a framed picture with the creator, a very professional looking French chef with a look that says, “I take jam seriously.”

Cupboard of jams

There was also a case of pastries—meringues the size of two fists, macarons in traditional flavors and hazelnut chocolate varieties, small pots of sorbet, chocolate bars wrapped in paper and gold foil, and fresh fruit tarts topped with cream.

The pastry case

The pastry case part II

Upstairs was a small bar and a piano room, where customers sat on red velvet chairs and listened to anyone who wanted to sing a classic with the pianist. Apparently a famous opera singer was in the crowd as well.

After buying enough jam and chocolates to last me the next 2 years, we sat down and indulged. Their specialty is hot chocolate, served thick with a good dollop or two of cream. We must have seemed ecstatic because the shopkeeper came out and gave us some miniature citron tarts on the house, which we gobbled up with equal enthusiasm.

Their famous hot chocolate

Strawberry crumble cake

Fruit tart

Swiss hazelnut chocolate macarons

The enormous meringue

So here’s to Zurich, and to Péclard, and of course to Kerrin. You made four tourists in Zurich very happy on their first night out on the town.

Practicalities:

Péclard

Napfgasse 4

CH-8001, Zürich, Switzerland

+41’44 251 51 50

Toblerone

2011-09-04T01:08:00.000-07:00

How many times have you bought a Toblerone in an airport? You know you have. You know you've wanted just one but then saw the box of 6 packed in a perfect hexagonal box, then seen the "buy two get one free" sign, and spent $30 on Swiss chocolate that you don't need and probably won't finish for another two months.

Switzerland may be a neutral country, but they are chocolate imperialists. Nearly every airport I've visited in the world has Toblerone. And now, for the first time, I am in their turf. Toblerone is in a Swiss airport (but I ignored it and got Sprungli instead, which I'll come to later). Here it is:

Interestingly, the Toblerone was moderately priced, at about $4. Even more interestingly, it was the same price as a bottle of water (not a fancy brand, just regular Swiss water, which come to think of it is probably fancy. They could bottle their tap water). Anyway in case you haven't figured out, I'm in Zurich, and I'm eating my way through Swiss culture :)

FYI it is not easy to take a picture in an airport of a random store without looking creepy

IKEA's chocolate tarts

2011-09-04T00:54:00.000-07:00

To continue on a theme and to foreshadow upcoming posts, I would like to shed some light on a European furniture store eatery (not a mistake) that is extremely popular with college students, exasperated families, and girls looking for an excuse to eat something sweet.

On day 2 hour 10 of shopping for furniture, I received a BBM from my roommate: "Come upstairs. We need a cake break." This is why, coincidentally, she is my roommate. Behold the Ikea chocolate crisp tart: think of it as a Swedish twix cake.

Practicalities:
IKEA furniture store
Festival City
Dubai, UAE

Eid al Fitr

2011-08-31T04:23:00.000-07:00

It’s Eid al Fitr, which translates roughly to “celebration of breaking fast”. It’s generally a day where people gather with family and friends, pray, and, of course, eat. Eid is sort of like the Christmas, in terms of eating. Everyone uses the “but it’s a holiday” excuse to eat like this meal will be their last and then complains about the holiday weight gain. But there is a key difference between Eid and Christmas: Eid is preceded by a month of food deprivation, which means that the “celebration” becomes “the feast of eating so much you should probably just wear elastic pants to the table”.

On the last night of Ramadan my friends and I managed to get a couple of seats at an Emirati iftar, hosted by the Sheikh Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding. It started out as a small group of Emiratis who’s mother made amazing food. They wanted to share their culture and food with the increasingly diverse communities growing around them, and asked Sheikh Mohammed, Dubai’s ruler, for funding. He obliged and they now have a beautiful, authentic complex with traditional Emirati houses and a nearby mosque. The meal is complemented with a tour of the area and a candid discussion of Emirati culture (they even allow people to observe prayer time and translate the Arabic prayers for them).

It’s great for tourists but since my friends and I are, well, not tourists, we focused on the food (and during the Q&A sessions about Middle Eastern culture we sat in the back of the room and chatted like middle schoolers).

Emirati food is warm, generous, and spicy. Chicken biryani, though usually associated with Indian culture, is a central part of their meal. The rice is mixed with cardamom pods, raisins, and cinnamon. There are also a variety of stews—vegetable stews filled with beans and tomatoes and fareed, a lamb stew with chunks of potato and roasted carrots and a rich broth. The most interesting dish was harees, ground wheat cooked over a fire for 3 or 4 hours until creamy and porridge-like, with bits of lamb tossed in for flavor. The entire meal was cooked by one of the guide’s mothers, who I hope has some help because the food was enough to serve 100 people.

The harees is the porridge on the left

Chicken biryani

Cold, half fermented dates

I’m sort of shocked that it has taken me more than a year to try Emirati food, especially having spent so much time in the UAE. So if you’re visiting anytime soon, make sure to come here straight away—outside of Ramadan, there are lunches and dinners served as well.

Practicalities:

Sheikh Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding

Al Mussallah Road, Bastakiya

Deira, Dubai, UAE

+971 4 353 6666

Vintage dates

2011-08-29T15:34:00.000-07:00

From the runways of Dubai's fashion foodscape, here are two beautiful vintage dates: one fermented ever so lightly and refrigerated to keep a soft yet tempered bitterness, while the other is dark and deeply sweet, like crystallized caramel:

Shake Shack, Dubai

2011-08-28T14:24:00.000-07:00

Mesmerising: Shake Shack iconography

I still get shocked by how Dubai manages to attract all the amazing food joints of the world to its malls. My American friend, who I have bonded with over chocolate frosted cupcakes and sandwiches from a place called “Hoagie Haven”, was having cravings for burger joint food tonight. So she suggested we go to Shake Shack.

I thought for a moment the poor girl was delirious. You can get that way, you know, when you're hungry. At least I do. What I mean to say is that Shake Shack is literally a shack in the middle of New York City that has become famous for it's burgers, fries, and shakes. The tiny place has barely made it to other east coast locations (their website is still bragging about opened shop in Connecticut) and now it's in Dubai??

I check the location page on their website to make sure. Yes, it is in New York, Miami, DC, Connecticut, Saratoga, and the “Middle East” (someone should tell them the Middle East is bigger than Dubai and Kuwait... they're probably too busy making fresh custard shakes to notice).

Custard menu, in Arabic too

Shake burger

Yes indeed Shake Shack is here. The burgers are smaller than the typical American fare, so my friends and I tried to make them last for longer by eating them slower. I bought a salad on the side from the food court to encourage healthy habits, but my friend created a fry shield on her fork as she poked around the lettuce. To be honest, it was creative, and it didn't taste too bad, either.

Fry shield

Practicalities:

Shake Shack

Mall of the Emirates

Dubai, UAE

+971 434 75513

A guessing game

2011-08-27T13:43:00.000-07:00

Take a look at the next 3 pictures and tell me where you think this dinner took place:

Time's up. It was in a furniture store. What? Really? Yes. A furniture store. I think IKEA must have started some sort of trend with their Swedish meatballs because The One furniture store in Dubai has a cafe that is actually quite good. Of course they don't serve Swedish meatballs, instead they have lamb-date patties. And as an added benefit, you can purchase the silverware, chairs, even the table if you want, after your meal.

Practicalities:
The One Deli in The One furniture store
Jumeirah Road, next to Spinney's
Dubai, UAE

No pork on this fork

2011-08-26T16:57:00.000-07:00

Iftar tent, Asateer

2011-08-25T14:35:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time in the Arabian peninsula, nomads roamed the deserts. The essence of their livelihood was to survive while on the move, for the harsh desert climate afforded little shelter from the ravages of mother nature. Their people became one with the desert, wearing long loose pieces of cloth to protect their skin from the sun and allow for rare cool breezes to relieve them of the heat. Their tents, movable homes, were rusty brown in color and angular in shape, much like the dunes that surrounded them. Even their eyelashes grew long, to protect their almond shaped eyes from the passing sands...

And now, ladies and gents, please come forward as we welcome you to the TENTS OF 2011!!! Outfitted with the latest climate control technology, step through the wide spacious corridors of our indoor oasis and marvel at the oblique lanterns above you, mimicking the night’s sky.

And as you enter to your left you will see a fabulous date tree. This is not a mirage, folks, for here you have the delicacy of the desert, cleaned and ripened for your tasting pleasure, arranged tastefully in a arboreal shape reminiscent of the arid landscape surrounding you.

Now look to your right and gaze upon the wondrous delicacies that will tantalize your tastebuds. A fest for the eyes as well as the stomach, arranged in traditional bronze and silver platters that harken to the handicrafts of yore. You may even indulge, if you please, in a roasted lamb, once a rare treat in the desert now made plentiful for you. Don’t be shy, help yourself to seconds, and even thirds.

And finally, mesdames et messieurs, we will bring your evening to a triumphant closing with a taste of today: imported sweets from around the world. You may sample handcrafted chocolates inspired by local flavors such as dates and pistachio, or indulge in soft and chewy brownies, an American exception. And if you’re feeling particularly cheeky, take a dip in the chocolate fountain, and fancy yourself in the des(s)ert of your dreams.

It promises to be an evening to remember, whether you are in search of a night of nostalgia or an escape into the lap of luxury. And all for the price of AED 165.

Practicalities:
Asateer Iftar Tent
Atlantis Hotel
The Palm, Dubai
+971 (0) 4 426 0800.

Foamy Nescafe

2011-08-24T12:21:00.000-07:00

One morning when I was visiting my cousin, tired and in desperate need of coffee, she dragged me off the couch and said, “Come to the kitchen, let me show you something cool.” Once we got there she pulled out a jar of Nescafe. I think for a lot of people outside the Middle East, soluble coffee is far from “cool”. But we’ve gone over this before-- people in different places like different coffees. And to be honest, whenever I try to explain American coffee to someone-- “You take beans and grind them and then pour water over them and force it through mechanically until you get a diluted, blackish beverage”-- they don’t seem too keen on it either.

So my cousin took a big spoonful of Nescafe and put it in a cup. Then she boiled some water and added about 3 drops to the cup. I told her it didn’t seem like a good idea to drink soluble coffee paste but she shooed me away, grabbed a spoon, and started stirring like a madwoman.

About 30 seconds later the black coffee paste had turned into a cream colored foam. I was in awe. She then took some more hot water and slowly poured it into the cup and the mixture transformed into a foam-topped coffee. She added some milk for good measure and then served it. Magic!

Unfortunately I have yet to reproduce her results (as the pictures no doubt reveal) but I’ll keep you updated on if I ever succeed.

Fail

Royal Orchid Restaurant, Dubai

2011-08-23T11:20:00.000-07:00

I've never been to Thailand, but I've always liked their food. One of my friends growing up was Thai, and her parents owned one of the only Thai restaurants in our town. She was the object of envy during lunchtime at school-- when we would grudgingly eat chicken nuggets that tasted like cardboard, she had tupperware filled with carefully prepared Thai food. Once a year she would share her good fortune and her mother would come in and cater lunch for the entire class. We would eat firsts and seconds and fight over the last bits while her petite adorable mother stood, most likely staring in horror, as we filled the bottomless pits that we called stomachs.

Those days are over, but I still get cravings for Thai food. And last weekend I found a good one in Dubai-- the Royal Orchid:

Green curry with prawns

Shrimp crackers

Pad Thai

Coriander, chili, soy, and sweet sauce

Practicalities:
Royal Orchid
Festival City
Dubai, UAE

Carluccio's

2011-08-22T12:24:00.000-07:00

When I read Eat, Pray, Love last year my favorite part by far was the "Eat". The main character, Liz, travels to Italy to learn Italian, live in a beautiful city, and eat. She describes all the things we think of as classic Italian-- pasta, pizza, espresso, gelato, mozzarella-- but elevates them from items of food to the catalysts for a spiritual journey of self discovery.

I was inspired by the book, and began to seek self reinvention. This piece of bread I'm eating, so full of fibre, the fibre of life. That carton of milk, so flimsy, yet somehow holding liquid, what an adequate description of our mortal selves. And the 10am stale cup of coffee, what an appropriate metaphor for the staleness of being.

The espresso bar

I quickly realized that not only was I a poor philosophizer, I was also eating pretty awful stuff. But since I, unlike Liz, am not planning on taking leave of my life and eating my way through Italy, I decided to go to Carluccio's.

Pasta con funghi

It's part Italian market, part restaurant where the pasta is made fresh and the bar serves espresso. I had the pasta con funghi, egg pappardelle cooked al dente with fresh wild mushrooms tangled up inside. I didn't realize that fresh pasta tasted so much different than the stuff you get in a box at the grocer's.

Fresh pasta

Meringue

The market has bags full of freshly made pasta, as well as portable Italian treats like Piemonte biscuits, tartufi (truffles), and gianduiotti, hazelnut chocolate paste in cube form.

If any of you have traveled to Italy and have pictures of life-altering food, send them in! We'll have a photo sharing session.

Practicalities:
Carluccio's
Dubai Mall
Dubai, UAE
+971 (0)4 4341320

An iftar at home

2011-08-21T13:42:00.000-07:00

I've met quite a few people now in Qatar and asked each of them how they like living here. These are people from all walks of life-- new graduates, engineers, doctors, businessmen-- and they've all described the lifestyle as homey, friendly, like a little cocoon where life can be measured in cups of tea and home cooked meals.

During my brief time here, I've eaten nearly as many meals in the homes of friends as I have in restaurants. The food has been unbelievable. Today's home-cooked meal, a Syrian-Lebanese one, may rank as one of the best I've ever eaten. And although I am known to speak in superlatives when it comes to food, in this case it is not mere hyperbole.

Unfortunately, since I had just met my hosts today for the first time, I didn't whip out the camera and snap pictures of the dishes on their dining table. I mean I did think about it, don't get me wrong. I even subtly said, "Oh, I should've brought my camera!" I got a few nervous laughs in response to that one, and decided not to ruin the first impression they had of me.

So let me attempt to paint a picture with words. The first course began with carrot soup, ladled into traditional Syrian ceramic dishes. It was smooth and creamy, and slightly sweet, but surprisingly contained no cream. I dipped my spoon and sipped up the soup until my bowl was nearly empty. And for the sake of manners, did all that I could not to ask for a piece of bread to sop up the remainder.

Next came the fetta. Fetta is an Arabic dish that varies widely from country to country. In Egypt, it is made with broth, garlic, chicken, atop a bed of rice and pita bread. It's not my favorite. My favorite is the Shami, or Syrian kind. Persian eggplant is stuffed with a mixture of ground meat, onions, and spices, then mixed with caramelized onions and placed in a shallow baking dish. Then it is topped with a thick, garlicky yogurt sauce and crisp fried pita bits. The eggplant was not in the least bitter (a feat I have yet to master) and fragrant with coriander and notes of cinnamon.

After that came roasted chicken with rice. A seemingly humble dish, but do not judge a book by its cover, or a dish by its name for that matter. The chicken, cooked in its skin, was juicy and tender, and fell off the bone at just the prodding of my fork. Underneath the chicken was a bed of rice, soft and savory, and roasted carrots and onions that had absorbed the juice of the chicken to become jewel-toned versions of their uncooked selves.

Then came the stuffed grape leaves, piled high in a tower topped with lamb chops. I'm not sure on this point, but I think they were stuffed with rice and perhaps some liver. The grape leaves were crisp but not tough, and had a slight zing which contrasted with the heavier meatiness of the stuffing.

I would be remiss not to mention the salad, which I would gladly make for myself any day of the week and be satisfied with it as a meal in itself. A simple mix of avocado, lettuce, tomato, and asparagus with a light vinaigrette of olive oil and lemon.

Then came the star of the night: the kunafeh bil ishta. That is strands of toasted pastry intertwined in a golden labyrinth, sandwiching between them a thick layer of fresh cream. I typically do not like Arabic sweets. I believe them to be an invitation to diabetes. But this one... was not... it looked like a cloud being hugged by two stacks of hay. I haven't seen anything like it. And drizzled with some simple syrup and a few pistachio bits... I may have left the table's conversation a couple of times and gotten lost in the crunchy sweet bites.

The night ended with hot tea and fresh mint (a classic), deep sighs and smiles of contentment. When you're eager to travel and explore the world, it's sometimes easy to forget how a home cooked meal is worth a thousand restaurant ones. And although it's slightly odd, it's not surprising that I noticed this here in Qatar.

Tomorrow is Sunday

2011-08-20T10:38:00.000-07:00

I always wondered why sundae sounds like Sunday, and today I found out:

sundae: "1897, Amer.Eng. thought to be an alteration of Sunday, perhaps re-spelled in deference to religious feelings; but the reason for the name is uncertain; perhaps "ice cream left over from Sunday, on sale later." For a fuller account of the speculations, see H.L. Mencken, "The American Language," Supplement I (1945), pp.376-7"

Thank you, Online Etymology Dictionary. And thank you to Ghirardelli for keeping history alive.

Shopping cocktail

2011-08-19T15:57:00.000-07:00

The perfect antidote to a marathon shopping day: lime juice with rose water syrup and a bit of soda. Fizzy and pink.

Ladurée, Dubai

2011-08-18T15:42:00.000-07:00

Bonjour mesdames et messieurs. Je suis très heureuse de vous presenter les meilleurs macarons francais du monde... à Dubai.*

And for those of you who are not French speakers... translation: Ooh la la, hunh hunh hunh, sacré bleu!**

Ladurée, Paris' most famous macaron boutique, has left the land of wine and cheese on an adventure in the Arabian desert. Macarons are dainty meringue cookies made with finely ground almond flour and filled with flavored ganache like Madagascar chocolate, passion fruit, rose, vanilla, pistachio, licorice, and caramel beurre salé.

Of course in order to properly enjoy this cookie, which Marie Antoinette famously adored, you must have a spot of tea, served in a silver kettle with fine china. Ladurée will happily oblige.

And make sure you bring a group of friends, preferably girls (sorry guys, but something tells me you won't be sad to miss out on this one...) and watch the Ladurée effect set in. Pinkies will pop out while holding enameled tea cups. Eyebrows will raise at the slightest hint of indiscretion. And conversation will veer from the mundane to the exotic, the sophisticated, the worldly.

And all for the sake of a macaron. Ooh la la indeed.

A bit unconventional... macaron sorbet!

*Apologies to those who subscribe to the Pierre Hermé school of macarons (I myself am torn)
**A gracious thank you to my good friend M, who provided a bit of comic relief to a friend stricken with writer's block.

Practicalities:
Ladurée
Dubai Mall
Dubai, UAE
+971 4 339 8520

Dean & Deluca

2011-08-17T22:26:00.000-07:00

I remember when I was young, the youthful days of youthfulness, full of innocence and childish curiosity. It was the summer of 2006, New York City, living somewhere between Union Square and Chelsea and teetering on the edge of what would soon become a full-fledged obsession with all that is edible.

And there it stood before me, the food hall of America, the epitome of la-dee-da sociability and UES foodie status: Dean & Deluca. It was love at first bite and after several rendezvous an eternal bond was formed, destined to withstand years of separation.

It was less than one year ago that I was joyfully reunited with Messrs. Dean & Deluca in Dubai, and only yesterday that we reminisced about New York City over goat cheese salad with pomegranate vinaigrette and grilled Portobello mushrooms stuffed between toasted brown bread. What a sight for sore eyes.

Practicalities:

Dean & Deluca

Dubai Mall

Dubai, UAE

+971 4 330 8969

Dubai Food Blogs

2011-08-16T10:57:00.000-07:00

One of the (many) reasons I started this blog is that there are so many amazing places to eat in Dubai, but not many sites that will recommend which are really worth visiting. There are the tried and true resources, like the local newspaper or TimeOut Dubai's website, but I never found many blogs. I like to depend on blogs when traveling because it's like getting a personal recommendation from a local, someone who has no vested interest in telling you about a particular place except for the fact that they want you to discover what they too have discovered.

And so I recently discovered three impressive blogs I think you should check out, especially if you're in Dubai.

Dubai Bites

Food Diva

My Custard Pie

Minibar, in treasure chest

2011-08-15T13:24:00.000-07:00

Just saying the word "minibar" elicits a mystique like that of the forbidden fruit-- beware, do not eat or you will pay dearly (literally). Now they've even put it in a treasure chest, which makes you want it more, and makes it value seem even higher. But it's fool's gold... with a true price tag.

Oh man I really want those jelly beans...

Maya, La Chocolaterie in Doha

2011-08-14T13:51:00.000-07:00

This is my first time in Doha. Qatar’s capital, the location of the World Cup 2022, and one of the fastest growing economies in the Gulf. I knew it would be ritzy, another country luxuriating in the consequences of its oil wealth. But I also felt there was something different about Qatar, something quiet and patient. Doha seemed to me like that shy kid you sort of knew in college but didn’t really talk to much, who then went on to graduate and 10 years later became the CEO of a Fortune 500 company. You sort of didn’t see it coming.

Allow me, if you will, to illustrate my point with a chocolate shop called Maya, La Chocolaterie. At first, Maya seems just another high-end sweet shop in an overcrowded shopping mall. Easily ignored in the shuffle, you might say.

But then, you take a peek. You order the fondue. Disks of pure, high quality chocolate melted slowly over a single candle. It forms a glassy, shallow pool of perfection.

Next to the pool of chocolate is a plate of strawberries. Not frozen, not oversized. Just strawberries, petite and ruby red. And ready to take a dip.

Now there is something called mille-feuille. But with a new twist. Thin sheets of chocolate held together with dabs of cardamom-infused mousse, bits of gingerbread and a layer of strawberry compote. Intriguing and innovative, quite a surprise.

I hope you enjoyed the nuanced metaphor of chocolatiers in Qatar and the larger implications on Qatar’s positioning in the global economy. I think it really drives to a key point we should all be aware of: eat chocolate in Doha, preferably at Maya, it tastes good.

Practicalities:

Maya, La Chocolaterie

Landmark Mall

Doha, Qatar

Tel: +974 486 4767 | Fax: +974 486 6181

Kunafe at Bazerkan

2011-08-14T13:09:00.000-07:00

Kunafe bel jebneh, spotted at Bazerkan in Dubai Marina. Golden brown complexion, generously proportioned, and last seen sitting in a pool of sugary syrup, with a hostage: a thick layer of melted white cheese. The suspect has not been seen since, and is presumed lost in a stomach somewhere.

Practicalities:
Bazerkan
Jumeirah Beach Walk, Mezzanine Floor, one block past Sofitel
Dubai Marina, Dubai
+971 4 424 3838

Tropical fruit salad

2011-08-12T16:57:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite summer scents in the Middle East is fresh guava juice. It smells sweet and almost creamy, though the fruit itself can be tart, nutty, and bitter when not perfectly ripe. But when I decided to make a fruit salad today, guava called my name. I was standing there in the supermarket, inspecting a bunch of red seedless grapes when that mystic scent wafted through the air and struck me. I was spellbound and cast away all thoughts of traditional fruit salad, opting instead for the complex and elusive guava.

It turns out you can tame guava fairly easily by pairing it with sweet counterparts like mango, banana, and pineapple. Add some kiwi and pomegranate for color, and the juice of a couple lemons to lure the nectar from the melange of fruits, creating the perfect balance of sweet and tart, with a slight zing. And then, of course, devour.

Pine nuts

2011-08-11T11:54:00.000-07:00

The next time you have a boring salad, or a casserole that needs some crunch, grab a handful of pine nuts and a pan with a bit of sizzling oil and let them turn golden brown. Better yet, just pop a few on a dry baking sheet in a hot oven. It will take about 5 minutes and your taste buds won't know what hit them.

Eric Kayser

2011-08-10T10:53:00.000-07:00

I try to only write about positive food experiences on this blog. Whenever I write about a restaurant, it’s usually to sing its praises... it’s not that I don’t know a good meal from a bad one, I’m not a garbage disposal. But I’m usually lucky enough to find good places.

That hasn’t been the case lately. There was The Restaurant That Served Tomato Soup From a Can, and The Place Where Salad Dressing is Mayonnaise. Oh and how could I forget The Incident of the Tuna Scented Rice Cakes.

Fresh bread

So last weekend when I wanted to eat, I chose the tried and true Dubai chapter of Eric Kayser, an originally Parisian bakery. The food is always fresh, always well presented. And although it’s difficult to match Parisian bread outside of Paris, this is one of the best bakeries in Dubai, and its menu has a little Lebanese twist to it. Bon appetit and sahtain!

Bruschetta

Halloumi salad with watermelon

Grilled chicken panini

Practicalities:
Eric Kayser
Dubai Mall
Dubai, UAE
+971 4 339 9375

Unintentional guest post

2011-08-09T12:33:00.000-07:00

I often receive photos of food from my friends, often delivered to my Blackberry. Usually I am amused by the treat that appears on my screen, but sometimes I am simply flustered. Imagine the irony of one girl enduring a boring food night when her friend sends her a picture of this delicious cup of frozen yogurt topped with berries (even blackberries, the namesake of the device she holds in her hand!). I hope the irony is useful for one of you, because it is hopelessly lost on me.

Hummus

2011-08-08T13:18:00.000-07:00

Homemade hummus

Recipes that involve blenders intimidate me. I think I’ve read a hundred recipes that claim to be simple and yet somehow manage to involve a food processor in the whole ordeal and end up making a chore out of a simple task.

Chickpea gas

You see, there are a lot of hidden tricks in blenders. They can pulse or liquify or, you know, blend. If you do it wrong you can mess things up. Like for example, did you know that if you put potatoes into a food processor they will get ruined? The blades will slice through the starchy water pockets and rupture them, transforming the potato into a potato-like goo, slightly sticky.

Boiling chickpeas

There is also the issue of cleaning. I have been scolded several times for removing the mechanical head of the blender along with the blade and dunking it into warm soapy water to be washed. Apparently this is unfavorable for the blender, since the mechanical part will probably fizzle and steam when you try to use it again, which it isn’t supposed to do.

Hummus with meat and pine nuts

But if you, unlike me, have managed to conquer the rules and responsibilities governing the use of blenders, then I suggest you try this recipe for hummus. If nothing else, it will taste like heaven. You can leave the cleaning to someone else.

Practicalities:

Hummus

Adapted from The Arab Table by May Bisou

Ingredients:

3 cans whole chickpeas
½ cup tahina (sesame paste)
¼ cup lemon juice
1 tablespoon crushed garlic
1 teaspoon salt
Pinch of paprika
Olive oil

Directions:

Drain the chickpeas and place in a bowl. Rinse them three times, and notice that little bubbles will form on top of the water. This is the gas from the beans. Better out than in.
For best results and a smoother hummus, remove the chickpea skins. They should slip off easily.
In a wide saucepan, place all the chickpeas and cover with water. Bring to a boil then turn down the heat and simmer for 3-5 minutes.
Remove from heat, remove the chickpeas from the water (leave it in the pan) and place the chickpeas in the (dreaded) blender. Add the garlic and salt and blend until the mixture starts to become smooth. Then add in the lemon juice and tahina and blend again, until the mixture becomes the consistency of your favorite hummus. You can add some of the chickpea water to thin the hummus.
When finished, place in a plate and serve, drizzled with olive oil and a dash of paprika.

Mint tea

2011-08-07T12:20:00.000-07:00

Caffeine has a special place in Ramadan. During the first few days, it shows you its bad side, as caffeine addicts around the world suffer withdrawal symptoms that turn them into useless coffee-deprived zombies. Splitting headaches, lack of focus, and other such delights await those who allow caffeine to rule their non-fasting lives. But after the first week or two of fasting, when your body is cleansed of the chemicals it once depended on, caffeine comes along and decides to play nice. In the form of mint tea it is both soothing and digestive, and keeps the food coma monster at bay.

Sheikh al-mihshi

2011-08-06T05:37:00.000-07:00

Whenever I cook for friends I have an urge to use eggplant. It always manages to creep into a dish in one form or another, roasted and blended with spices for baba ganoush, or sliced and layered in a baking dish for mousakka. Sometimes I’ll even just fry salted pieces of eggplant and stuff them in sandwiches for a snack.

So this weekend, I found myself in a kitchen with friends bustling around me making citrus salads and potatoes fried with garlic and cilantro, I was standing over the stove staring at beautiful purple eggplants. They sat in a baking dish with slits down the middle, like they were smiling up at me while I stuffed them with a fragrant mixture of pine nuts, lamb, onions, and tomatoes.

This recipe is called Sheikh al-mihshi, which basically means the ruler of stuffed things, which I think is appropriate given the vegetable involved. Arabs love to stuff things, whether it’s zucchini or peppers or grape leaves, or in this case, eggplant.

So I will handover the recipe for you with a warning from someone who has cooked eggplants many many times: beware the oil. Whenever you are frying eggplants, which are naturally full of water, the water will touch the oil and cause a sizzle then splatter, all over the kitchen, probably onto your arms, and (as has happened to me) directly into your eyes. To avoid fatal injuries, approach any eggplant-oil combinations with a pot cover as a shield. That will usually do the trick.

Practicalities:
Aubergines with pine nuts and tomato, or Sheikh al-mihshi
From New Flavours of the Lebanese Table by Nada Saleh

Ingredients:

8 small aubergines
4 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 1/2 tablespoons pine nuts
1 onion, finely chopped
120 g (4 oz) mince, preferably lamb
1 tomato, finely chopped
1 teaspoon salt or to taste
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Pinch of ground cinnamon
Pinch of white pepper
300-350 ml (10-12 fl oz) boiling water
2 tablespoons double concentrated tomato puree
1 tablespoon lemon juice

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 190C/375F. Trim the green cap of each aubergine, leaving half the stem intact. Peel the aubergines leaving lengthwise strips of skin. Heat the oil in a medium-size frying pan over medium heat. When it is hot but not smoking, add the aubergines 4 at a time and cook until lightly browned and soft. Remove with a slotted spoon, allowing the oil to drip back into the pan, and leave to cool.
Add the pine nuts to the pan and saute until golden in color, stirring constantly. Quickly add the onion and meat and cook until browned, about 5 minutes. Add the tomato and stir. Season with half the salt and add the allspice, black pepper, cinnamon, and white pepper. Stir well and turn the heat off.
Make a deep slit along the side of each aubergine and with your fingers or a spoon fill the slit with the meat mixture. Place in a deep baking dish. In a small glass bowl, combine the boiling water, remaining salt, tomato puree and lemon juice. Stir and pour over the aubergines. Bake for 30-35 minutes
Serve immediately.

Dates

2011-08-05T15:21:00.000-07:00

In Ramadan, it’s tradition to break fast with dates, which is convenient, because Dubai is practically spilling over with the fruit. Here are some my friend picked from his garden. They usually fall off palm trees while yellow, green, or red (depending on the variety) then slowly darken and moisten, until finally they look like this, a sugary morsel that is said to be nature’s sweetest fruit.

Ginger tea

2011-08-04T15:48:00.000-07:00

This is ginger tea. When I am tired I drink it. It is easy to make. Ginger. Water. Boil. Drink. When I am tired I also write short sentences. And short posts. Good night.

A letter to PappaRoti’s Bun, from the candy stand downstairs

2011-08-03T13:46:00.000-07:00

Dear Bun,

I would like to submit a formal letter of complaint for your bakery on Level One of Dubai Mall, city of Dubai, Emirate of Dubai, United Arab Emirates.

As you undoubtedly know, I have maintained my place of business just one floor below you, next to the ice skating rink. I am a respected and generally venerated member of the mall dining options community. I do not need to inform you that I carry the sweetest sweets and the gummiest gummies in the mall, or at least that is my reputation.

So you can imagine my disgruntlement towards your arrival in the mall, in particular your bakery on Level One, next to the ice skating rink. For some time now, a strange scent has enveloped the region, slightly sweet with notes of caramel and toffee. Both of which I cannot stand, by the way, and you will notice I do not sell them on my premises. The scent, I believe, is a type of pollution, and will not be tolerated.

In addition, I would be remiss not to mention the dangers you pose to the neighborhood infrastructure. There have been several instances in the past month in which I was caused to fear for my life: it appears that hoards of humans congregate at your shop at all hours, and their collective weight threatens to topple the ceiling above my head.*

My final complaint relates to a conspiracy. You will find that I am a very frank candy stand, and do not stoop to muddle my intellect with couched terms and nuance. I am aware of the conspiracy afoot, that is, the one signaled by your misleading nature. You seem plain from the outside, slightly browned with the tiniest gleam from a sugar crystal or two. But I know what lies within you. Behind that crackly crust is a fluffy, doughy interior and a core of gooey butter. Surely this is the work of a conspiracy. I will have you know that I have seen and known many bread buns before and none of them bore any resemblance to you whatsoever. Thus I must conclude that you are a hoax, you do not exist, and have been sent here with the sole intent of my demise. I suspect the chocolate store on Level 2 is behind this.

Sincerely yours,
The candy store downstairs

*I should note here my skepticism that these humans gather at your establishment by choice. My hypothesis is that you are holding them against their will, in which case I plan to file a petition with Human Rights Watch and the International Red Cross/ Red Crescent.

Practicalities:
PappaRoti Cafe
Level One, Dubai Mall
Dubai, UAE
+971 4 330 8377

Egyptian hospitality

2011-08-02T15:26:00.000-07:00

I have never experienced hospitality like Egyptian hospitality. It’s everywhere-- when you compliment a friend on something she’s wearing, she’ll offer it to you without hesitation. If you look even slightly lost on the street, someone will stop and help you, not only by telling you the location, but by walking you there, making sure you arrive safely, then waving goodbye with a smile. The hospitality is more than just a welcoming smile, it’s generosity, accommodation, and cheerfulness.

To be honest, it can be a bit overwhelming for the average human being. To explain what I mean, let me guide you through a meal at an Egyptian house:

Step 1: “Oh my, what an amazing feast! This looks great, I’m so happy I fasted for 2 days in preparation for this meal”

Step 2: “Let me try some of this lamb. Oh wow, it just falls off the bone! What’s in that? Cumin and cracked pepper and... mmm... is that a whiff of cardamom?”

Step 3: “More meat, how delicious. Roasted beef, cooked over potatoes and red peppers which are dripping in the flavorful fat. I haven’t had this much meat in a long time. Oh, and what’s over there...”

Step 4: “MORE meat? He he... I mean, yum, how wonderful! Yes, I think I’ll take a small piece of chicken. And maybe some vegetables too... ”

Step 5: “What’s that you say? Oh no, it’s not that I don’t like chicken, I love it... I’m just getting full... OK I’ll take some more chicken, yes and some vegetables too”

Step 6: “What is this? Sambousek, fried and filled with vegetables? Well, I haven’t tried that yet, it seems such a waste to pass it by...”

Step 7: There is no talking at this point. You have entered a food coma and all your blood has left your brain and is tending to your digestive system. This lasts about 30 minutes to one hour.

Step 8: “Fresh mango juice. Made today. It’s so sweet and pulpy, and you didn’t even add any sugar. It’s the perfect pick me up”

Step 9: “Dessert? Oh no, I just couldn’t. Well, it is fruit, and fruit is so healthy. Ok I’ll take some. You know, I’ve never seen fruit salad outside a can before.”

Step 10: “You didn’t tell me it was your father’s boss’s son’s birthday today! Oh and he’s been sitting with us all along, you know to be honest I don’t know most of the people here, I just met you 2 hours ago. Well, since it’s a special occasion I’ll have the one with the lady fingers”

More likely then not, you will have eaten more than you have ever eaten in your life. You will probably have laughed a lot too, and listened to fascinating stories, and met charming people. And when it’s over, you’ll wish it was just starting again. That’s Egyptian hospitality.

Typos in Egypt

2011-08-01T15:34:00.000-07:00

You may have noticed a somewhat comedic restaurant tagline at the end of my last post. In case you didn’t, here it is again:

To ensure you know how to pronounce "ful"

Egypt is a treasure trove of food-related typos, but they can be hard to spot. Actually, they’re not hard to spot at all. They’re everywhere. That’s why it’s a treasure trove. Here you go, enjoy:

I always felt salads were unkind

I think this is because diet sodas in Egypt are called "light" (like Pepsi Light)

How appetizing

Poiled to your satisfaction

No thank you

And this one is for those of you who understand Egyptian Arabic, from someone who seems to love puns just as much as they love their yacht.

Ful

2011-07-31T14:47:00.000-07:00

It’s that time of year again. When colorful lanterns flood the streets with light, turning the day on its head as the neighborhood becomes nocturnal, thoughtful and patient in daylight until the sun sets and it’s finally time to eat. Ramadan begins tomorrow, and for most of the Middle East that means fasting from sunrise to sunset, without drink or water.

You know, when I started the 100 Days Project I didn’t realize that it would go through Ramadan. During the day, restaurants will be closed. Supermarkets become ghost towns. Bakeries turn off their ovens. It seems like the next logical step for a food blogger would be to sit in a corner and weep, but not me. I will not weep.

Why? One reason: ful. Pronounced “fool”, it is the Arabic word for fava beans which happen to be a Ramadan favorite because of their high fiber content, perfect for staving off hunger.

They are typically served whole or mashed, mixed with spices like cumin and paprika, drizzled with tahini (sesame seed paste) and a squeeze of fresh lemon juice.

My favorite recipe starts with canned whole beans (if you prefer to buy fresh fava beans and peel them one by one, please do) which are rinsed in water to release some of the gas (so it doesn’t go inside you).

Then the beans are set in a wide pan over the stove, with some water and the heat turned up until it starts bubbling away. In the meantime, slice up half a big yellow onion and douse it with fresh lemon juice. Set that in a bowl and start mashing the beans in the pan, adding more water if it has evaporated.

Then find some high quality olive oil. This batch was freshly pressed from a friend’s farm in Egypt, but don’t feel bad if your farmer friends haven’t sent you a bottle, just use a drizzle of the best you can find on the onions.

Olive oil

Now it’s time to dump it all together: the ful on the onions, mixed with the olive oil, and then sprinkle on some cumin, paprika, and salt. Add a tablespoon of tahina and you’re set to eat.

You’ll notice the recipe is a bit imprecise, but there are 3 reasons for that. First, everyone makes ful in their own way, and this is just one variation. Your tastebuds will be the best judge of what the perfect proportions are. Second, no Egyptian will give you a proper recipe for ful. It's innate. When you ask someone how much paprika to use, they’ll say “just enough, but not too much”. Third, it’s cool to be a bit of a foodie radical sometimes and stray from perfect measurements and timings. Ful is cool, fool.

Fruit stand, Cairo

2011-07-30T16:00:00.000-07:00

If you ever need to know where and when to buy good fruit in the Egyptian summer...

Movenpick Ice Cream

2011-07-29T17:05:00.000-07:00

Whenever I visit Egypt I notice that people notice food. They pay special attention to details that would fly by most people. For example, while eating falafel one day with a friend at a restaurant, I noticed her nose crinkle in disappointment-- “too much baking soda, it’s a filler,” she said. A married couple I know argue endlessly about what foods are appropriate to pair together (spicy sausages and bell peppers) and which are not (cheese and cake). What they do agree on is the fact that not a single piece of lettuce in their salad should be even close to wilting, I mean it can’t even sigh and droop a bit.

So at the end of the day, the Egyptian people are picky eaters. They know what’s good. And when it comes to ice cream, there happens to be a national obsession with one ice cream maker: Movenpick.

Creme brulee

Yes, Movenpick is a Swiss hotel chain. But for an Egyptian, it is so much more. Behind the fancy, marble lobbies, the well dressed bellboys and the punctual check out times, there lies an ice cream cart of legends. So legendary, in fact, that most Egyptian hotels will look beyond market competition and play host to a Movenpick ice cream cart.

The flavors are carefully crafted: an old standby, Swiss chocolate, or creme brulee, which tastes like honey and caramel. There’s lemon-lime sorbet, with flecks of candied lemon peel, and espresso, which tastes like heavy cream with a jolt of sweet coffee.

Lemon lime sorbet

Ice cream hits its peak flavor the moment just before it melts. And in the hot Egyptian sun, sitting by the pool, that spoonful of creamy goodness is pretty much perfection.

Casper and Gambini's burger

2011-07-28T15:55:00.000-07:00

I have eaten a lot of burgers in my life. Good ones too. There was the burger of 2009, from Gourmet Burger Kitchen, with melted brie cheese and a cranberry sauce that me think Thanksgiving was overrated. Then there was the burger of 2010, a wagyu beef burger from the Fairmont hotel in Abu Dhabi, topped with a grilled pineapple and so buttery it just fell to pieces in your mouth. More recently, I’ve had the In-N-Out burger of California, a legend in itself with a special place in the history of Americana.

This burger was better. Maybe it was my elevated level of hunger, or the fact that I hadn’t had a burger in months. But there it was, toasted bread, a big beef patty cooked until barely pink in the middle, crispy on the edges yet juicy to the bite. Fresh tomatoes, thin shreds of lettuce, and two large onion rings. Then, tucked in between all that, sautéed mushrooms sitting on top of melted gruyere cheese. It could sound overwhelming, but somehow everything pulled together perfectly.

Now there wasn’t anything particularly Egyptian about this burger, in fact it is served at Casper and Gambini’s, a restaurant based in Lebanon. But there was something undoubtedly Egyptian in its preparation. All the ingredients were fresh, taken from sources that in other places would be called “organic”, and that here are just called food. Most everything is local, trucked in from nearby farmlands and cooked up before it spoils in the sweltering heat. Tomatoes here do not stay fresh for months. They spoil, within days. And cheese is made from cows that eat a vegetarian diet, and roam free. That’s what creates these amazing flavors in unexpected places. It’s what Californians and the slow food movement are all about, and in Egypt it’s alive and well.

Practicalities:

Casper and Gambini's

Mall of Arabia

Cairo, Egypt

A series of flash poems

2011-07-27T16:37:00.000-07:00

I haven’t posted in a couple days, and I feel quite badly about that. But to be honest, I have a good excuse. You see, I have limited access to internet. Normally, when this sort of thing happens, I rejoice and sit back, relax, and am happy to be away from the world for a few days. But this time it was different.

At first, I sat around at night uploading pictures to my computer, as if in denial that I wouldn’t be able to upload them to the internet later. When I realized it was futile, I became angry, over editing the pictures and cropping them too tightly. Then came the sadness, which manifested itself as an urge to walk around and take pictures of every item of food I found, whether in supermarkets or at the dinner table. I even took pictures of plants that would someday bear fruit. Finally came the acceptance. And with that serenity, plus a few poems, one per day (the inspiration didn't last long, though, as you can see by the last line below):

The prickly pear

I found this old prickly pear
I don’t know if you were aware
That the desert has fruit
Oh, you don’t give a hoot?
That’s ok, most people don’t really care

Good lamp

In Egypt you’ll find something funny
Having nothing to do with a mummy
It’s the language you see,
They’ll switch “p” for “b”
Blease enjoy this fine lamp in your tummy

Grilled liver

This dish is called kebda, or liver
And while kids will eat only a sliver
They should eat so much more
It’s full of iron, an ore
But I’ll pass, that stuff gives me the shivers

Cadbury Turkish

Please explain the motivation
That outside the American nation
Candy flavors are odd
I do not mean flawed
In fact I think they reflect the location

Sahlab

Lemonade, iced tea, a cold glass of water
These you drink when it couldn’t be hotter
But despite the sweltering heat
I ordered this warm milky treat
By the way, have you seen Harry Potter?

Egyptian bread

2011-07-21T15:26:00.000-07:00

Egyptian bread, "Aish balady"

A loaf of Egyptian bread. Whole wheat flour, water, yeast, and a dash of salt. Maybe some dried bran sprinkled on top. A simple staple, with ample meaning. It is described as “balady” bread, which can mean “from the country side”, or “my country”, “my homeland”.

In fact, this bread has held great influence over its own country. Coddled by heavy subsidies from an early age and fiercely defended in the riots of 1977, it is adored, venerated even. “Aish”, the Egyptian word for bread, means life.

In a place where bread is life and life is changing, one wonders what the future will bring.

The advertisement reads "Let's make tomorrow better"