Delicious Bologna

Oh, Bologna! What have you done to me?

You had me the minute I stepped up to the counter at that busy neighborhood café and ordered an espresso - it was deep, deep brown with notes of bitter chocolate and had the perfect amount of chestnut colored crema on top.
I ordered a prosciutto panino alongside and once I took a sip and then a bite, I was hooked.
Then I asked for the bill. The total came to €2.30.
I had to look again.
€2.30?

Only €2.30? For a perfect espresso and a prosciutto di Parma sandwich?

How soon can I move?

Then of course, there is the gelato.
Have you ever tasted salted pistachio gelato? Not just pistachio, but salted pistachio?
It will change your life (kind of like Normandy salt butter, of which I'm sure Italy has its own version). But so will the fresh strawberry gelato (in season). The pine nut and mascarpone. The hazelnut. The sour cherry. The dark chocolate. The Sicilian lemon.
Basically, you just want give up every other kind of food and only eat gelato. Forever.

Until you have the pasta.

And the pizza.





I haven't even mentioned the gorgeous seasonal fruit and vegetables yet. Have you ever seen such beautiful tomatoes? Or wild asparagus at such a reasonable price?
And those little peppers pack some serious heat!

Let's not forget the cheese. This is Parmigiano-Reggiano country, after all.
But Italy has much, much more to offer when it comes to formaggio. They claim to produce over 450 varieties - my kind of place!

This list of deliciousness wouldn't be complete without mentioning proscuitto di Parma, cured sausages and mortadella, which originated in Bologna.

I savored all of it, maybe a little too much! My jeans were uncomfortably tight by the end of the trip.

Now that I'm back in France and diving into the seasonal chèvre, the brie - which is so perfect right now - and enjoying a daily baguette, I know that I would long for these delicious French foods if I lived in Italy.
So I'll try to visit as often as possible, leaving plenty of room in my luggage.
This time I brought home 2.5 kilos of Parmigiano-Reggiano, a couple of bottles of Balsamico di Modena and a ridiculous amount of Calabrian chiles.
That should hold us...for a while.

Pin It

Sunday Reading

Thought I would venture outside of France today.
Not too far...only about 5 hours by car...a fact that makes me wonder why we don't go more often.

To Italy



Infatuated by all of her recipes, including the one for Zeppole di San Guiseppe, a pastry that makes my New York born and raised husband swoon.

She may be lost, but I'm glad I found her.

Delicious advice from an American living in Italy.

She's on vacation at the moment, but I never tire of reading about Michelle's Calabrian adventures. And I love seeing photos of her new kids!

What a beautiful and inspiring dream of a life. With some practical advice thrown in.

She shares my love of food and wine, especially cheese, and takes interesting, thought provoking photos. What's not to admire? Pin It

Italian Food

I'm not Italian by blood. But I am Italian by osmosis.

You see, I'm adopted. And my adoptive parents, who picked me up at the orphanage when I was a tiny six weeks old, are Italian on one side and English on the other. I have to say that the Italian side was much stronger and more gregarious than the English side, thus I feel more Italian than English.

My dad's parents are 100% Italian, both from Calabria, down in the "toe'' of Italy. Have you ever seen My Big Fat Greek Wedding? Well, my family's gatherings and weddings were eerily similar. Just call them My Big Fat Italian Weddings and you've got the idea.

Yesterday my dad flew down to visit us at my sister's house and it has been a cooking and eating frenzy since he arrived. Last night I made spaghetti all'Amatriciana for dinner, then this morning the meatballs were being mixed up by 9 a.m., with the final few finishing up their cooking about 11 a.m.
Just in time for brunch. Which consisted of meatballs in sauce, sprinkled with Parmesan, and bread.
It was heaven.


my oldest nephew, mixing up the meatball mix


brunch - meatballs with bread to soak up the sauce


After a third of the meatballs had been eaten and we were all regretting that we had enjoyed so many at our stomach's expense, my dad spied a pile of baking potatoes and decided that we should make cavatelli. Cavatelli is the Calabrian dialect for gnocchi. It is something that I grew up eating on holidays and visits to my grandparent's house. It was always a special treat and my grandma taught me how to make her cavatelli many years ago, but since then I've never taken the time to make it.
Today I had the opportunity.

Three generations of us, with grandma constantly being consulted on the phone, all made a huge batch of cavatelli.


dad making the dough


my sister and oldest niece making pasta


the dough before it is formed into the correct shape


my youngest niece learning how to make the pasta


the rolled out cavatelli


the cooked cavatelli with sauce

I feel very lucky to have grown up with both my Italian and my English parents. But I must admit, the food from the Italian side is much, much better! Pin It