In recent edible news

Just when you thought that the spork couldn’t possibly be improved upon, the New York Times reports that Swedish designer Joachim Nordwall has created an updated version for a hiking gear company called Light My Fire. Rather than combine the bowl of the spoon with the tines of the fork, Nordwall has placed each on opposing ends – think kayak paddle – and added a serrated metal edge to one side of the fork end. This sturdy plastic new all-in-one utensil comes in a Lifesavers array of colors, and while it’s meant for camping, it might also find a home in the lunchbox. One question though – how are you supposed to use the knife if you have without something to anchor the food? Hmmm…

What do the results of the recent presidential election in Mexico have to do with the country’s steadily declining consumption of traditional masa tortillas? In a fascinating article for Grist, Tom Philpott draws the connection between conservative Mexican policies and the rise in price of handmade corn tortillas. Apparently, cheap white bread is making headway in Mexican supermarkets. Just the image of a taco wrapped in Wonderbread gives me the willies.

According to Newsday, New York State is about to receive a bumper crop of apples – an estimated 25 million bushels! From Newton Pippins to Jonagolds, local farmers’ markets will soon be bursting with varieties beyond the standard Red Delicious. Since a little cold storage goes a long way in keeping apples fresh well into the winter and spring, there’s time to try them all. An apple a day keeps the doctor away, but what about apple pie, apple strudel, applesauce, apple chutney, apple butter and of course, apple cider? Let the recipes begin!

In her column in London’s Financial Times, world renowned wine geek/goddess Jancis Robinson details the process of editing the third edition of the Oxford Companion to Wine, which now contains some 3,900 entries. While to some, the hefty tome seems like a killer doorstop, to most in the wine world, it’s as good as the Holy Word. New entries include winemaking advances in Denmark, thanks to global warming, as well as a description of the decrease in Russian wine consumption partly caused by an aggressive anti-alcohol campaign headed by former Commie Ringleader Gorbachev.

And lastly, one of my favorite food magazines, Chow, was recently reborn as an internet publication. Though it’s print days were glorious but short-lived, the first pages of the new internet edition seem promising. Since the company that nows owns Chow also recently acquired Chowhound, the two websites are now linked together. Welcome back, Chow!

Back to school, er, work

When I walked out my front door this morning, uniformed children were galloping in through the gates of the school across the street, lunchboxes swinging in little hands. The air was just a touch cooler, the sun a bit more golden. Combine those facts with the box of ginger snaps sitting in my cupboard, and there’s one indisputable conclusion. Summer’s over! Today was day number one at my new job. I’m working in the office at a fancy schmancy wine importer in Manhattan, where I’ll hopefully begin to learn about the business of importing and distributing fine wines across the New York area and beyond. The importer’s portfolio is pretty nice — heavy on the Old World wines with a definant slant towards modern vineyards that employ traditional, natural methods. And there’s even a few loony moon worshippers in the mix.

What does it all mean?

Spotted on my walk home a few months ago, propped up against a lamppost on the sidewalk…

And then yesterday evening, I walked along the edge of the marina. On the left, a fence guards the stone walkway from the brackish water. On the right, baby trees nestled in woodchips stand before white balconies that peer down upon the ranks of sailboats. Out of the darkness a bench jumped into view. One of these things is not like the other… Piled in front was a haphazard stack of vintage clothing patterns – a size 6 here and size 12 there – perhaps 60 worn-edge packages in all. On this otherwise manicured path, the musty pile stood as a rebuke to everything ordered and ordinary. I sat down and picked up the pattern lying on top.

Public enemy number one… spinach?

Getting children and some adults to eat their veggies just got a little harder. As you read this, refrigerators across America are being yanked open and bags of fresh spinach are sailing into the garbage can. Since last week, states from coast to coast have reported over 100 bacterial infections caused by the dreaded E. coli bacteria, with one death in Wisconsin. The source has been traced to Natural Selection Foods, an organic grower based in San Juan Batista, California. Natural Selection sells their spinach and other salad greens under a host of private labels, including all the big names – Earthbound, Ready Pac, Trader Joe’s and about fifteen others. As a precaution, the FDA is advising all Americans to toss all pre-packaged bags of raw spinach.

This unfortunate situation points to a much larger problem. According to the Department of Agriculture, more than half of our country’s spinach is grown in Monterey County, California. And though it’s the height of harvest season nationwide, this tainted Monterey County spinach has found it’s way into kitchens from Connecticut to Utah. When we centralize our food system to this degree, and giant industrial farms produce giant crops to be cleaned and packaged in giant facilities, outbreaks such as the current one will be widespread and hard to contain. Spinach today and what tomorrow?

And the fact that this mess has been traced to an organic farm is just the ironic icing on the cake. The organic label was originally created to indicate a product outside the industrial food chain and therefore a wiser choice. When organic farms become large-scale international operations plagued by the the same problems that caused them to abandon the original food chain, then what does the organic label really mean anymore?

I’ll be at the greenmarket looking for local spinach if you need me.

Exploring Red Hook, Brooklyn

Otherwise known as the least accessible neighborhood in Brooklyn, Red Hook is one of those places that seems to be on the tip of everyone’s tongue these days – the annointed Next Great Thing. I’ve been intrigued for a long time, especially since I’ve already demonstrated an affection for up and coming neighborhoods. Located on a small peninsula that juts out into the East River, Red Hook is disconnected from the rest of Brooklyn not only by the river, but also the Gowanus Canal to the east and the Expressway to the north. At one time Red Hook was a bustling shipyard and warehouse location, but when all New York port activity was relocated to Jersey decades ago, Red Hook began a slow decline. Factor in the standard formula of the white flight and urban decay of the 60’s and 70’s with the a dose of the drug trade of the 80’s, and you have yourself a depressed neighborhood. But today, since the New York real estate market is gobbling up forgotten neighborhoods faster than ever, Red Hook is also receiving its share of trendy restaurants and quirky shops, despite the fact that the nearest subway station is about a 20-minute walk away (or a short bus ride, if you don’t mind waiting).

So when I saw a listing for a Slow Food sponsored walking tour of Red Hook, I thought, yahoo! Not only could I explore an interesting place I’ve never been to, but I could also attend my first ever Slow Food event. I’m a big fan of the organization and everything they stand for, but the only problem is that I can rarely afford their gourmet foodie dinners and talks. But since this walking tour cost a mere $10 (to be donated to Added Value Farm, one of our stops on the tour), I thought, count me in!

I think that Red Hook is at an interesting point in its history. Crime is down, young creative types have moved in, and there’s a decent number of new small businesses. But on the other hand, Red Hook is also home to a giant new Fairway, which signals that the neighborhood is now firmly on its way to yuppiedom. What else can $6 bags of handpicked mesclun and 20 varieties of stinky cheese from the Pyrenees mean? Couple that with the fact that the biggest Ikea in the world (yes, the world) is slated to open just a few blocks away, and it’s pretty obvious that Red Hook is bound to change even more.

Right now, besides the shiny new Fairway, which is situated on the ground floor of a huge warehouse on the waterfront with stunning views of the Statue of Liberty, Red Hook still feels a little bit empty. Rambling warehouses dot the neighborhood, crumbly old piers meander out into the river, and even on residential blocks, vacant lots and empty buildings are still obvious. It’s quiet, almost to the point where you expect to see tumbleweed rolling down some of the side streets. But, hey, sometimes a little peace and quiet is a good thing, right?

Since there was a slight snafu that involved half of the Slow Food group missing their ferry from Manhattan, the tour was delayed. So I headed over to Baked, a super cute bakery on Van Brunt Street…

for an equally cute red velvet cupcake, dotted with a cinnamon candy.

Once the tour got going, the first stop was to Added Value Farm, which is a non-profit vegetable farm that sits on a former baseball field, now leased from the city free of charge. It’s sort of amazing to walk through this former industrial neighborhood still decorated with chain link fences and hulking warehouses and then come upon this little green oasis. According to Ian Marvy, one of the co-founders of the farm and our appointed tour guide, Added Value Farm employs local teenagers throughout the year to help grow and sell the food, so not only does the farm provide a number of local residents with ultra fresh produce, but it also provides a lot of kids in the area with an income. And since the program has expanded to teach such topics as media literacy, the kids are also picking up job skills along the way. Owner and chef of the nearby restaurant 360, Arnaud Erhart, happened to stop by the farm while we were there, so he also briefly joined Ian in answering some questions about Red Hook, the farm’s place in the community, and the business of buying local foods. (Ian on the left; Arnaud on the right)

And the farm veggies looked splendid!

Next stop was lunch at the nearby baseball and soccer fields. Every weekend, this part of Red Hook is filled with Latino families, mainly from an array of countries in Central and South America, who come to watch their kids compete. Some of the families set up impromptu restaurants on the sidewalks lining the fields, complete with propane grills and plastic cloth covered tables to sit at. There’s maybe 15 vendors altogether – in other words, a culinary destination is born. Since New Yorkers are always looking for authentic ethnic food, there are also quite a few hungry native-born Americans lined up at each stall as well. Some of this popularity is surely due to a recent New York Times article from a few months ago that proclaimed the food at the ballfields as “the kind of experience that reminds you why you live in New York.” And it’s cheap, too! You can stuff yourself silly for well under $10. My first stop was a ceviche vendor, I think from Chile, who was selling both shrimp and scallop ceviche. Both are sold in a plastic cup, mixed with citrus juice and a salsa like concotion of tomatoes, peppers, onions, cilantro and a dash of hot sauce.

Second course was the object which the Times writer waxed poetic upon – the pupusa, which is a culinary delight from El Salvador. Basically, it’s a small round cake made from coarse corn meal – filled with either meat, beans, cheese, or a combination of the three – that is grilled and served steaming hot.

I ordered a black bean and cheese pupusa and then added on a chicken tamale, which comes stuffed with large hunks of roasted chicken inside its soft corn exterior. The plate is completed by a sort of pickled coleslaw type of salad, topped by a squirt of hot sauce.

After lunch, the next stop was Six Point Brewery, which is a microbrewery that makes small batches of interesting ales. The tour was lead by Shane Welch, the brewmaster/co-owner. Shane is also a man who is obviously passionate about beer. You’ve got to respect someone who started homebrewing at the tender age of 19 and later saved up enough money to spend a year touring some 100 breweries worldwide. Shane knows his product from top to bottom, or should I say, from malt to hops. The great thing about Six Point beer, which is only available in draft only, is that it’s a product that is made with an almost obsessive precision. Compared to beers that are made in bulk from standard strains of barley and hops, Shane and his crew have painstakingly chosen the different roasts and varieties of the malted barley, and they also experiment with different varieties of hops. On the roof deck of Six Point, there are even several containers of hops vines, which in a few years will hopefully be large enough to supply Six Point with enough hop buds to experiment on a batch or two. If you see Six Point beer on tap anywhere in New York City or Brooklyn, definitely check it out. A lot of the ales have a truly unique taste and a much bolder flavor profile than a lot of the mass-produced beer on the market. And they’re crafted by young people who operate on passion and a drive to create the best product possible.

Around this point in the day, my cameras batteries gave out, but I have to mention a few other unique Red Hook businesses… Another place we stopped by was Steve’s Authentic Key Lime Pies, a quirky bakeshop located in an improbably out of the way warehouse near the water. Steve delivers his wholesale pies in an old hearse parked outside of the warehouse, and the menu on the inside is pretty much just key lime pies in a variety of sizes, as well as the “swingle”, which is a tiny key lime tart that is skewered on a popsicle stick, dipped in dark chocolate and frozen. What makes these pies special though is that Rick gets a shipment of real Key Limes from Florida weekly, so that he can juice them himself.

Back on Van Brunt street, another place that deserves a visit is Lenell’s. A tiny wine and liquor store, Lenell’s has one the best selections of bourbon in the city, as well as a small but thoughtful selection of wines from small producers. There’s also a vintage clawfoot bathtub in the window, filled with bottles of different brands of gin. Brilliant. Combine that with the statue in the center of the store of a little boy peeing, and you start to realize that Lenell’s isn’t your ordinary corner wineshop. And they have free tastings every Saturday! Also, next door to Lenell’s is Tini, a new wine bar that opened up just a few weeks ago. Though I didn’t get a chance to stop by, I’m definitely anxious to. Not only does Tini purchase produce from Added Value Farm, but their wine list also showcases many small winemakers, including females, minorities and organic growers.

Grassfed Meat Madness

Last week, I attended an informal presentation hosted by the unofficial All-American Grassfed Meat Queen, Jo Robinson.  Author of Pasture Perfect, as well as the helpful agriculture website Eat Wild, Jo can spout scientific stats about cows and sheep like you’d never believe.

Grassfed (i.e. pastured or pasture-raised) meats seem to be the latest topic to grab ahold the foodie world. One could advocate for grass-based farming from a variety of soapboxes: it’s more environmentally sound, it keeps small family farms in business, it is less cruel to the animals, it preserves bucolic open spaces across America, and so on. The main bandwagon most people seem to be jumping on lately, though, is nutrition. According to studies described by Jo, the irony of abandoning modern factory farming for a return to long “outdated” methods of raising animals is that the meat from grassfed animals is healthier for us.

Much in the same way that hydrogenated oil based margarine was suddenly discovered to be worse for your health than butter or even lard, corn-fed meat is now known to have considerably higher levels of saturated fat and calories, along with drastically lower levels of “good” unsaturated fats, Omega 3 fatty acids and CLA (conguated lineloic acid, which is a suspected potent anti-cancer compound). It’s like the animals finally won some sort of victory. By putting them back into their ideal landscape, they provide us with an incredibly healthy source of food. The same benefits are found in other forms of animal protein as well. Eggs from pasture-raised chickens and milk/butter/cheese from grassfed cows show similar results.

There’s nothing revolutionary about grassfed animals. Actually, it’s kind of boring. It goes something like this – ruminant (i.e. an animal with a handy extra stomach for digesting grass) is released into a green pasture, bows head to grass and begins to munch, munch, munch. Ruminants are designed by nature to eat grass, which they can convert into an amazing array of proteins, fats, carbs, vitamins and minerals.

In an effort to industrialize meat production, however, we’ve taken nearly all animals out of their natural habitat and instead placed them instead into enclosed areas where they are given grain to eat. This is highly unnatural to their digestive tracts, and even with a slow period of weaning them off of grass and hay, many animals develop lesions and acid imbalances in their stomachs, which leads to rampant bacterial infection – hence the addition of prophylactic antibiotics into their feed.

The idea of corn feed as wholesome is a carefully constructed myth. We’ve all been raised to think that corn-fed is best, but really it makes no sense whatsoever, except for the fact that the artificially cheap corn (thanks for the subsidies, Uncle Sam!) keeps the price of beef artificially low. Beef and most other kinds of red meat have always been considered luxury items. Until recent times that is. Whenever you see ground beef at the local supermarket for the cut-rate price of $1.99/pound, be scared – very scared. Chances are that your little piece of Bessie hasn’t seen nary a blade of grass since she was a baby. Among the nastier bits of info doled out by Robinson was the actual content of standard cattle feed. Okay, so there’s corn and soy, along with other cereal grains, but what about chicken feathers, chicken manure and stale bubble gum. Bubble gum?? That’s right. Jo swears that she saw with her own two eyes a line of farmers waiting outside a bubble gum factory to get a cheap supply of expired gum. The farmers intended to toss it into the cattle’s feed, wrappers and all, which would hopefully pass without trouble into their manure.

One of the main points clearly emphasized by Jo is to be an educated consumer. Don’t trust the label, period. Just because meat or milk is labeled all-natural or organic DOES NOT mean it’s grassfed. There are such things as organic factory farms. Generally speaking, organic simply means no hormones/antibiotics, certified organic feed (which is still most often corn and soy), and “access” to the outdoors. When a carton of milk has a cute little picture of a pasture, it’s just an advertising tool, folks. And even when something is labeled as grassfed, it may mean only partially grassfed and/or finished with grain, which will negate some of those nifty health benefits.

In other words, it’s important to try and educate yourself. Ask questions. Check out websites like the Eat Well Guide and Eat Wild for a comprehensive list of grass-based farmers and retail sources. Try to buy a few things directly from farmers, since they can probably talk your ear off about production methods. Or visit an old-fashioned local butcher shop like Fleishers in the Hudson Valley. One of the lovely co-owners, Jessica Applestone, also joined Jo at the presentation to advocate for traditional grassfed meats. Going to a store like Fleishers ensures that you can know the both the provenance and production methods of your steak. Bon Appetit!

Honey, I’m home!

Well, hello there. I’ve been home for about a week, but since my updating took a serious nose dive while away, look for some updates (as well as photos on every entry!) filled in down below this entry. One of the great things about WordPress is that you can easily alter your timestamp on entries. So in case you’re thinking, hey, I don’t remember that entry from August 15th being there, it probably wasn’t. I’m sneaky and added it in recently. So do keep checking for ‘older’ entries to be posted in July and August, as well as new entries posted. There are a few new things I’m anxious to check out in New York… newly opened wine stores, Slow Food walking tours of Red Hook, and what’s all this with the return of the Automat on St. Mark’s place?

I’m also keeping myself busy looking for a new job, preferably in the wine and food field. I am an ‘advanced sommelier’ after all now! There are a few directions this new skill could go in, so cross your fingers! To get the inspiration going, I cracked open a bottle of 2001 Cru Bourgeois Bordeaux that’s been vacationing this summer inside my fridge. I’m thinking the wine will flow from my palate straight through to my fingertips, creating the most inspired food writing you’ve ever read. And, after all, doesn’t everyone sip Bordeaux while job hunting?

Forget the cake, where’s the bread?

About two days into France, I realized why Marie Antoinette lost her head to the guillotine.

The French simply cannot live without bread. The baguette appears like magic on the table during every meal – yesterday’s leftovers lightly toasted and spread with fresh butter and jam for breakfast, filled with meat and cheese for lunch, and sliced thinly, resting in a wicker basket at dinnertime.

French bakeries amaze me. Sure there’s steamy fresh loaves in the window early morning each day, but most bakeries fire up the ovens again just before dinnertime, so that workers on the way home can also purchase a warm, yeasty loaf. Some even squeeze in a third round somewhere between morning and evening. With all of this activity, the bread ovens in France seldom grow cold. Who needs plastic bags of Wonder Bread, when you rarely have to walk more than one or two blocks to purchase your warm baguette? Not to mention that the price is usually well under one euro. Maybe I should drop a suggestion note off to Balthazar in Soho, where a baguette baked earlier in the morning (and thus no longer toasty warm) costs about two dollars.

But back to my original point, I’m not sure what would happen if the bread supply in France suddenly dried up. Anarchy? Mayhem? Surely some sort of revolution would ensue, not unlike the first time around. Around 5 p.m. or so each afternoon, the wonderfully comforting smell of fresh bread begins to waft through the streets of France, and you can almost see the French noses turning slightly upwards as if to sniff out the nearest bakery. And besides the classic long baguette, bakeries peddle their product in shapes and forms of all kinds, in addition to sweet rolls and savory slices of homemade foccacia and pizza…a flour wonderland!

When you purchase a baguette (or two or three), it’s generally handed over to you with just a small piece of paper wrapped around the middle for your hand to rest on. A good number of loaves don’t make it home intact, though. It’s a common sight indeed to see French citizens of all types, tearing off bits of bread and munching as they walk through the streets. In Nice, I passed a group of punk kids loitering on the sidewalk, dressed head to toe in black with sullen expressions to match, passing a baguette round. Somehow, I just can’t see that happening with a group of young American hooligans. Dude, I’m so over Cheetoes. Um, no.

But all of this leaves me with one last point. Dare I suggest to all of the carbophobes out there that perhaps bread does not make you fat? Given that we’ve already established that French women do not get fat, and I’ve seen many a French woman wolfing down whole baguettes, I think it’s finally time to welcome back bread to the American table. Atkins diet be gone!

Sustainability goes global!

Spotted on a wall near the University in Parma…

I’m not sure what it says, but I get the ‘boycott McDonald’s’ bit, and I’m assuming that the rest is the usual hoo-ha about animal rights, worker rights, and nutritional rights. From what I understand (and partly from what I observed) Europeans are in the midst of a new onslaught of obesity-related diseases, just like Americans. While their obesity rates are nowhere near ours, they are quickly growing. (Pun somewhat intended.) This is mainly due to an abandonment of traditional lifestyle and cuisine in favor of more American-style eating of processed foods on the go.

One interesting thing to think about is that America basically invented industrial agriculture. We also invented the official ‘organic’ movement, as a means to clearly label products that were grown outside of our conventional, pesticide-laden factory farming standards. While travelling through Europe, the organic label doesn’t exist so much. Some countries have their own words to indicate a naturally grown product, but chances are a lot of Europeans are still eating naturally, since most small family farmers don’t use pesticides, animal growth hormones/antibiotics and never have. That’s not radical, that’s just their tradition. You go to the market early in the morning, you purchase fresh bread, cheese, meat and produce from the actual artisan who made or grew your product. Of course, these traditional ways take time, not to mention cooking skills. Hence the emergence of indoor supermarkets and fast food chains.

I am encouraged, though, that with global organizations like Slow Food, young Europeans can be educated about simple, healthy, delicious eating. Each country has such a rich food tradition… it would be shameful to instead consume calorie-laden, nutritonally deficient food with roots no deeper than a good advertising campaign. The McDonald’s boycott is the first step!

Long time, no post…

Blame it on the French. Not only are their internet cafes very expensive to use, but the keyboards are funky. Certain letters are rearranged, as well as other symbols like commas and apostrophes. While that may not sound so bad, it´s a big problem if you´re a fast typer that can type without looking at the keyboard. Basically, it reduces even the fastest typer to a two-finger pecker. Oy.

Anyway, though I´m in Barcelona now, I will try to play catch up for a bit… After leaving the Lucca/Florence area, I took the train north out of Tuscany towards Modena, which is in Emiligia-Romana. Modena is perhaps most famous for being home to the Ferrari factory, and of course, everyone’s favorite vinegar — balsamico di Modena. While I know I complained earlier about the hordes of tourists roaming the streets of Florence, Modena was the exact opposite. Since the heart of the old town is fairly small, there were not mant tourists at all, and nary an American. The setting is traditional Old World — winding alleys, arched porticos over wide sidewalks, and ancient churches scattered here and there, with one main cathedral…

and a grand plaza in front of said cathedral…

Someone told me in Florence that the further north you travel in Italy, the more European and more wealthy the citizens become. Definitely true. Modena is lined with lovely stores, none of which I could afford to enter. (It helps that Italian stores display price tags on the clothes in the window, which immediately lets you know if the store is in your league or not.) And besides Ferraris, the streets are lined with more than a few luxury cars. Come evening, since Modena is not so much a tourist destination, many restaurants close up shop, leaving cafes and pizza shops to choose from. So my first night in Modena, it was pizza and house wine. I forgot until the waiter plunked down the little quartino in front of me what house wine means in Emilia-Romanga — lambrusco! I know poor lambrusco has a not so great reputation in America, but truts me, it can be delicious! (Lambrusco is a type of red grape grown in Emilia-Romagna that is made into either dry or sweet wine that is slightly sparkling and served chilled. In other words, completely unique.) I once met a woman who described Lambrusco as the syrupy sweet plonk she and her friends would drink at the beach in the summer, in the same category as Blue Nun or Lancers. Personally, I think a dry Lambrusco is terrific in the summertime. Being that it´s red, it stands up to heartier food a bit better than most whites, but since it´s fizzy and cold, it´s very refreshing. And it goes great with pizza! And in Emiligia-Romana, it’s what most wine stores peddle.

Modena is also where I discovered that Italians employ silverware in their pizza consumption. The small round pizza is served intact, with no precut slices, so you have to attack it yourself with knife and fork. Anyway, I think it was Edna Lewis who said in reference to pairing food and wine, “If it grows together, it goes together.” Europeans have had centuries to perfect their regional agriculture and winemaking. It sort of makes sense that regional food and wine tend to match together, since each has surely influenced the development of the other over the years. Hence that Lambrusco goes so well with pizza, as well as cheese and cured meats, which are both Northern Italian specialties.

Like most cities and towns in Europe, rather than rely upon a grocery store, there is generally a large open-air market. Open mornings only, the market in Modena offers the typical array of meats, cheese and seasonal produce, along with heaps of balsamic vinegar, fresh pasta and lambrusco. One thing did catch my eye, however. At the Arthus Schwartz talk I attended a month or two ago, he made a really big deal about how superior San Marzano tomatoes are and how rare they are in the United States. He even said that there’s some debate as to whether or not the San Marzanos being peddled in Italy are genetically related to the real thing. I can’t comment on that, but if you’re ever in Modena and want to whip up a traditional tomato sauce by hand…

Modena is also ideally located between two other notable cities in Emilia-Romagna — Parma and Bologna, both of which are about a half hour´s train ride away. Any foodlover knows Parma. For that matter, most Americans know Parma, since Parmesan cheese is a staple of many households. The other famous food product is, of course, prosciutto di Parma.

As for Bologna, you might be familiar with Bolognese sauce for your pasta, or perhaps the much corrupted lunchmeat American supermarkets ply schoolchildren with. Yes Bologna has amazing cured meats, and no, none of them are like supermarket baloney. Bologna also has the most amazing array of fresh pasta I’ve ever seen. Windows display hand formed tortellini and gently rolled balls of long noodles, with loving explanations of each product.

Both Parma and Bologna offer more friendly deviations from Modena´s slightly chilly character, and Bologna in particular is like an eccentric old aunt that doesn´t care what anyone thinks of her. While most Northern Italian cities and towns are picture perfect, Bologna has a little bit of a haphazard character. Since there is a large university in Bologna, the sidewalks are lined with scooters and mopeds.

The streets are a bit dirtier, there are fewer open spaces, and even the main cathedral lacks a facade past the first 50 feet or so. Most churches and cathedrals are built out of stone or brick to be sturdy, but the main beauty comes from the often ornate facade that’s slapped onto the exterior later. It´s sort of surprising to round the corner into the main plaza in Bologna, and see a huge cathedral (I think the third or fourth largest in Italy) that is mainly built out of drab maroon brick. It´s as if the building is declaring, Take me or leave me!

I had delicious meals in Parma and Bologna both. I won´t go into too many details, other than both meals involved savory cured meats and fresh pasta. I could live forever on good bread, cheese and cured meats.