My usual order at an Italian bar.  oh and some gratuitous promotion of Segafreddo coffee…

Now, I can appreciate that you can get a delicious seafood pasta dish in many places around Italy and the world, but as far as I am concerned, the best plate is to be found at my friend’s place in the town of Porto Torres in northern Sardinia.  These long-time family friends of ours have been in the fish vending business for decades so there is never any shortage of seafood in their household, and they sure know how best to cook it too!

During my visit there last month my stomach was very happy indeed as I got to munch on a number seafood pasta dishes which you can feast your eyes on in these pictures.  I don’t have any precise recipes for you but the key to these dishes is quality fresh ingredients: seafood, tomatoes, parsley, garlic, onions, extra virgin olive oil, a touch of chilli pepper, and quite often a splash of white wine in the cooking process.  Oh, and pasta al dente of course.

After two platefuls, it’s then time for a nice walk along the sea front with a quick pitt stop for, you got it,  gelato!

Fresh out of the sea

Throw in some king prawns for good measure

My mouth just waters every time I look at this picture

Yum, GELATO!

The newest Krispy Kreme celebrates Carolina football season with donuts and ice cream donut sundaes.

First,  my mom, who immigrated from Haiti almost 40 years ago, stepped foot in the Museum of Fine Arts for the first time.  A self-educated woman of petite stature, her eyes glistened with amazement and gratefulness.  She moved from painting to painting, Iranian ewers to Japanese woodblock prints, reading about each piece.  For that moment, her ailments disappeared.  She walked those exhibit halls with confidence as she flirted with each piece of art. Our Haitian Creole was just an echo in the exhibit halls among several other languages spoken that day…a testament to the universality of art.

Second, it was the first time my 14 month old walked the halls of this great museum, cruising past Renoir masterpieces, an Egyptian asophagus and El Greco.  He stood in the European art gallery, lifted his little head (well, actually, he has a large head….it’s ok, I make big head babies! LOL!) and just stared at the wonderful portraits.  He would tilt  his head as far back as he could and then bring it forward towards the ground – it was amusing to observe his playful innocence.  He seemed particularly interested in St. James  and I wondered if it was the firery red of Saint James’ robe that caught his attention.  I stood in marvel as I watched my oldest sit with a friend on a cushioned ottaman to sketch their version of Anubis and my baby smiling at what – at first sight – appeared to be dark and melancholy figures.  I smiled as I thought that this may be the beginning of a pleasurable experience with fine art or any art.

While my boys share a curiosity about art and interest in many things, they do not share that certain something that has the potential of becoming a critical marker of their difference: food allergies.  As you have read in previous post, my oldest is allergic to a lot of foods.  It turns out, the baby (so far) is not.  It was less of an issue when the baby’s only source of nourishment was milk; however, things changed when the baby started eating solids.  My oldest became more interested in what his brother was eating.  At first his questions were – well – just questions, and more on the curious-side.  He would ask: “Can I eat that?”  “Does his lunch have wheat?” As the months passed and his brother’s palate (and belly) expanded, his questions were protest  “Why can’t I eat that?”  “Why do some people have food allergies and others don’t” “That’s not fair, why does he get to eat that?”

I decided that day that my baby can go without fries.  For the first time, and yes I too had a first at the Museum of Fine Arts – I decided that on this day my boys would eat the same food.  They both chomped on carrots and took spoonfuls of rice.  My oldest was so happy to share his wheat-free, egg-free chicken nuggests with his little brother.

It was easy.  It was stress-free.  It was temporary salvation.

I know that every day I will be faced with this decision and so I vow to take it day-by-day.  No pressure.  Most importantly, I let my oldest know that I too am trying to figure it out.  He watched me diligently inquire about each food.  My truth is – I know that at a certain point in my boys development they may feel like they don’t have anything in common with each other.  I will not let my oldest boy’s allergies to food become a reason for him to envy his little brother.  At this stage in their development, my boys are not foodies!  Similar to their fine art experience, their relationship with food is also at the surface.  I look forward to the day when they will look for the deeper meaning behind those wonderful paintings and art pieces at the museum.  Perhaps by then, my oldest will outgrow his allergies and they will be able to dine at a restaurant and experience another first – their first meal together where both can enjoy unrestricted goodness.  Perhaps! But Sunday was not that day.

What would you do?  You may have a lot of questions about my decision and I would love to hear from you.

Photo has nothing to do with food (obviously).  I just like it.  ‘Running’.

Aracini, fried Sicilian rice balls from Bova’s, an institution for over three generations in Boston’s North End.

Bostonians are a loyal people. They are crazy passionate – yes, that’s a Patriot‘s mobile and if you look carefully, yes, that’s a giant Tom Brady wall decal. The Kid – now nicknamed Bean Sprout aka Beanie Baby – already pledged his fan loyalty before he was even born. Beanie Baby is growing like Jack’s beanstalk and I’m COMPLETELY unbiased, but he is one adorable kid. And the Beanie Baby knows it.

Like other Bostonians, Beanie Baby is likely going to grow up also crazy loyal to his cultural heritages. As the offspring of two very ancient, very loud cultural heritages, he doesn’t have much choice.  Boston, as many of you know, is an amalgam of cultures and ethnicities, full of old and recent immigrants who hold onto the foods of their Mother Land – even if it’s generations later.

Cake Mountain Man and I headed up to the North End, Boston’s Little Italy. Formally separated by an ugly green highway before the ridiculously expensive and corrupt but forward-thinking Big Dig (who thought about urban greenspaces back in the 80s?) that I recall from my childhood, it is now flanked by a beautiful greenway that is filled people picnicking, throwing frisbees, and strolling between Faneuil Hall.

We stopped at Bova’s, the 24-hour bakery known for its Italian bread for over three generations (I told you, Bostonians are loyal).

I’m pretty sure I had the best Italian sub ever.

Then it was across the greenway to the famous Haymarket.  This is not your farmer’s market with $10 tomatoes and $20 goat cheese. This historic open-air market has seen a resurgence since the Big Dig has made it accessible and pleasant once more. Haymarket, open Fridays and Saturdays, is not for the meek.

Many of the vendors have been doing this for generations. Like true Bostonians, they work honestly, fast, and to outsiders – brusquely. These are bargain deals for the locals because there is no middleman. It’s a GIANT marketplace and vendors and stalls selling local cheeses and halal meats vie for your attention – and they will shout at you to stop by and buy their produce. You better bring small bills because this is no place to flash your $50s – they will just refuse your money.

I remember as a kid, you could go near the end of the day and you would be able to purchase a crate of corn or peppers for $3. Even though some of them would be bruised, you’d still end up with plenty for cheap. Those prices are crazy awesome – and yes, those cherries DID taste like candy!

Next was Chinatown, one of the largest and oldest dating back to the 1800s. It used to be intermingled with the Red Light District, and now intermingled with hole in the wall noodle shops, live poultry stores, and bubble tea bakeries. One of these special places is the Gourmet Dumpling House, a must if evidenced at all by its lines outside the street.

Their xiaolongbao, or little juicy dumplings, are…. You just eat them. They are too good for words. They pop in your mouth and this burst of juice…mm.

Culinary tour aside, I wanted to cook a few meals for my sister and put them in her freezer since she and her husband don’t cook (I’m not saying she’s a bad cook, she just doesn’t know how. She asked me how to boil water at 26). Going on the notion of Boston’s rich cultural diversity, I decided to do adapt my own version of doro wat, a traditional Ethiopian stew.

Doro wat is made with berbere spice – you can find a recipe for it here, though I am spoiled and have a jar of a homemade one from a friend of mine. It’s spicy with good things like cumin and coriander and paprika, complex layers of flavor and just gorgeous. It’s also traditionally made with niter kibbeh, Ethiopia’s clarified butter.

My sister lived on frozen meals and take out for years (how are we related?), whereas proximity to a farmer’s market is a must for any place I live for me. So I pushed my agenda with fresh eggs (love the blue shell), my own tomato sauce, and fresh chicken thighs to add to my Doro Wat What (recipe below).

I can’t wait to introduce the Beanie Baby to culinary travels and fresh food.

Doro Wat What

1 pound chicken thighs (juicier meat), deboned or boned
1 jar fresh tomato sauce (take 5 fresh tomatoes, onions, garlic, thyme, oregano, rosemary, salt and pepper and cook down until mushy- don’t use paste so it keeps the liquidy quality)
2 TB fresh ginger, minced
2 cloves garlic minced
1/2 cup water or chicken stock
3 heaping tsp of berbere spice (more or less according to heat preference)
2 hard-boiled eggs
Oil (or clarified butter)

1. Heat oil in Dutch oven. Add ginger and garlic and saute for 2 minutes until fragrant
2. Add heaping teaspoons of berbere spice until fragrant – add a bit of water
3. Add chicken thighs (can keep boned or cut into pieces) and brown on all sides
4. Add tomato sauce (you can throw in fresh tomatoes and herbs here if you don’t have a jar available)
5. Add stock or water to cover chicken
6. Boil and then lower heat to medium and simmer for 20-25 minutes
7. Slice eggs and mix into stew
8. Serve over steamed white rice or with flatbread

Whoopie Pies staring at me at Bova’s, an institution for over three generations in Boston’s North End.

Ingredients:

1 tsp vegetable oil

1 Pack of egg noodles

½ medium size onions, chopped

2 cloves of garlic, chope

1 ½ medium sized tomatoes, chopped

10 large mushrooms (choose your kind/you can also add meat if you like) sliced

1 cup of frozen peas

Baby bok choy/spinach chopped (as much/little you like)

7 cups of vegetable stock (you can add more if you want it soupier)

Instruction

1. Heat a large pot on medium heat. Add the oil and sauté the onions and garlic till translucent
2. Add ½ tsp of salt
3. Add mushrooms, saute for a couple of minutes
4. Add tomatoes, sauté until it becomes into a nice thick sauce
5. Add  frozen peas and then the vegetable stock
6. Once it starts boiling add the noodles, cook per the package instruction
7. Once the noodles cook, add the bokchoy/spinach, and voila it is done! Add salt for seasoing
8. Serve nice and hot! Should you have any leftover roast beef it would go well too!

Check us out on Two for Tuesdays!

Need a travel idea? Check out Zomppa’s guest post on CheapOair about Cape Town, South Africa. Cheap Flights is a one-stop-shop to find deals on flight-hotel-car with a great blog about places around the world.