Lost in Belgium: Surfing in Oostende

After traipsing around Brugge for a few hours, Nick and I decided on a whim to head up to the coast and dip our toes into the North Sea in a beachside town called Oostende. Immediately when we pulled into the center of town it was clear that this place was a summer tourist beach destination, probably in the order of say the Jersey shore or Rehobeth beach in Delaware. But because it's only the end of May, it was still pretty quiet.

We got down to the shore and my first thought was, 'Why didn't I bring Kyma!' That would be my surfboard, yes, Big Red actually has a name. Anyway, the waves weren't amazing, but they were there and just as I was starting to wonder if anyone surfed in this town, Nick looked over at this van parked along the boardwalk and said to me "Hey, do you think those guys are surfers?" They were pulling on wetsuits, so my bed was yes. And sure enough about 30 minutes later, there was a solid handful of guys out in the water, leaving me on the short to wade up to my ankles and get all windblown. Sad, but honestly if I had known you could surf up there, I'd have probably been making weekend trips there for the last two months. Oh well, next time I suppose. First I have to learn to read the weather charts so I can actually make it worthwhile. Nice to know there's surfable water nearby though.

Oh, and Oostende was actually quite cute, even though it was touristy. After he managed to drag me away from the surfers, we walked down near the harbor and were met with the site of fish stand upon fish stand upon fish stand. Most of them were selling a combination fresh fish, smoked fish and some kind of fish stew usually. I walked away with a lightly pickled raw herring and a smoked herring that I thought might be kind of like the smoked whitefish I love having with my dad at home. (FYI: It turned out to be quite tasty, but also completely whole. I've never had to clean out a smoked fish before but this one, well lets just say that in addition to de-boning it, I also had to clean out the innards)

We ended up having an amazing meal of mussels before we left. I mean, I don't think it's possible to go to Belgium and not has the trifecta of foods it's known for: Mussels, Beer and Waffles. Oh and chocolate. I can't forget chocolate. Because I love chocolate almost as much as I love little critters that live in shells for eating.

Lost in Portugal: Pastel de Belém

So one of the things that we were told was an absolute, must try food in Lisbon was the Pastéis de Belém, a small egg cream tart in puff pastry. According to local lore, the recipe for this particular pastry cream is a closely held secret and only three people in Belém know the recipe, passing it down from one generation to the next as each retires. Jamie Oliver apparently tried to recreate the recipe without success, he just wasn't able to replicate the silky texture of the cream.

So with that knowledge in hand, we headed to what is supposedly the birthdplace of this tasty, creamy little tartlet, Antiga Fábrica de Pastéis de Belém. And taste, and taste, and taste we did. Tiny, silky smooth tarts, still warm from the oven. Flaky and tender but still sturdy as you bit into it so that you didn't end up with a lapfull of puff pastry shreds.

We purchased two dozen with the intention of bringing them home for our co-workers, but unfortunately the pastries were left behind as an unintentional gift for our new friends at the Surf Castle. I guess we'll have to return to Lisbon to partake in the joy again.

Lost in Portugal: Coffee Days

Much to Nick's delight we have discovered that Lisbon has quite the coffee culture. In fact, I think ordering coffee in Lisbon might almost be a complicated as ordering coffee in Vienna. A fact Nick found highly reassuring. That and the coffee tastes sooo good. Strong, but not burnt, deep roasts that can be served any number of ways if you just know how to ask for it. Not that we managed to figure that out in three days, but it was good nonetheless. Wish I had pictures, but sadly I have none.

Here is my quick Lisboa coffee primer, courtesy of my failed attemps and TimeOut Lisbon:

For Milky Coffee in a glass, ask for um Galao, basically like a latte but if you add the words Maquina, you should get coffee that's fresh from the machine as opposed to coming from the carafe of the stuff that's been sitting around for a while getting burnt

For a Cappucino like drink ask for uma Meia da leite (half milk).

For Espresso, ask for Bica but ask for um cafe or um duplo if you'd like a double shot.

For the really strong stuff, ask for uma Italiana, a tiny cup of sludgy coffee essence.

Granted, they don't take it quite to the levels of the Viennese, but I have no doubt that if you really know the city, one would find that the subtleties are just as extensive when you know your way around.

lost in Portugal: Caracois, caracois

OK, we arrived in Lisbon. It was kind of cold and rainy and I was STARVING! Big shock there I'm sure.

So Nick and I went wandering around our hotel to see what we could find to eat. We wandered into this tiny little storefront and ordered a couple of sandwiches. I happened to see two women behind us eating what looked like a plate of teeny, tiny escargot. So when the server came over I said "I'd like a small plate of those, please."

He looked at me, said "Caracois?"

And I said, yes, what those girls are having. With smile he returned about 5 minutes later with a steaming, garlicky pile of tiny little snails, complete with tiny, little, smiling snail heads that had antennae.

Now I'm a pretty adventurous eater, but for just a moment even I paused. But after a stern, internal pep talk, I dug in with my toothpick while Nick looked on rather horrified. Until he tried them. And boy were they tasty. As long as you can get over the little heads, these suckers are really, really good. Nick only made it through four, but I devoured a good plateful almost before I was full.

Although not for the squeamish, I highly recommend them if you happen to be in Portugal and they're available.

Lost in Spain: Market Breakfasts

So to continue our culinary binge this weekend, I dragged Nick over to La Boqueria, which is one of the biggest permanent produce markets in Europe. They actually have a partnership with London's Borough market (although from what I've read La Boqueria is much bigger even if the market in London is older).

the market. I had a super lovely cafe con leche and some churrosTo avoid the other tourist types, we went over early and got a bit of something to eat to build up the strength to wander through to top it off. Can't really go wrong with fried dough and coffee in the morning. Mmmm. . . .

What a market though, I mean talk about visual, sensorial overload. Between the rainbows of fruit and the juices they were being squeezed into and the gleaming, ice pack piles of fish, I could hardly decide where I should be looking. Of course there were oodles of stands selling the ubiquitous Jamon Iberico. Newly educated after our oh so satisfying meal at Jamonisimo our scrutiny of the offers was intense. Not that we had any chance of picking up a leg of ham to bring home, but there was definitely a very vigorous discussion between Nick and I on whether or not we could swing it.

I'm sad to say that I did not win out in this particular discussion. I did however manage to convince Nick to purchase almost a case of wine to haul back in my suitcase.

Lost in Spain: Jamonisimo, the best ham I've ever had

So today for lunch, Nick and I tracked down another restaurant recommendation courtesy of Anthony Bourdain's "Decoding Ferran Adria" documentary: Jamonisimo.

Birgit and John attempted the same on Tuesday before we all met up for the El Bulli Extravaganza with no success. So Nick and I were a little nervous that we might also end up with nothing to show for our efforts. Fortunately we found success.

And let me tell you, it was worth the tracking and blackberry searching and wrong turns down streets with no signage. This was by far the most incredible cured pork product I have ever had the pleasure of consuming.

So for those who are not Jamon Iberico connoisseurs, there are three different grades of Jamon Iberico. The highest grade is a type of Jamon Iberico labeled with the phrase "de bellota." Basically this indicates that these lucky swine were fed a diet of acorns exclusively which gives the meat and the fat an especially buttery texture.

After a bit of finagling over the menus (only available in either Spanish or Catalan, clearly this is a place only locals go usually), we managed to communicate to our lovely if non-English speaking store clerk that we wanted to try the sampling of the house Jamon, an animal raised "de bellota" in the Salamonca region of Spain. The selection of meats comes from three different parts of the cured ham leg, each with it's own special texture and taste.

Over a couple of glasses of cava, we slowly consumed the ham, bite by mindblowingly flavorful bite. The fat on the ham slices was practically melting at room temperature. Can I say divine? I think all ham will somehow seem pedestrian after this . . . A few bites of cheese and another glass of cava later and we found ourselves stuffed to the gills with only a few hundred grams of ham and cheese and smiling and gesturing to the shop keeper that we would be back the next day to purchase Jamon to bring home with us. There is just no way I can go back to Frankfurt without bringing John and Birgit a taste of what we just experienced.

Lost in Spain: Savoring the Sea

So after what was by far the most incredible meal I have had the pleasure to consume, Birgit, John, Nick and I lingered this morning in Roses to dine at another place we had heard about called Rafa's.

We found this restaurant after watching a DVD Birgit bought John as part of his birthday present called Decoding Ferran Adria with Anthony Bourdain. In this video Anthony Bourdain mentioned two other restaurants that Ferran Adria had taken him to, one was a Jamon Iberico store in Barcelona (we're hoping to find it tomorrow) and the other was this tiny little seafood restaurant in Roses that is Ferran Adria's favorite place to eat when he's not working.

Apparently Rafa won't even open the restaurant if he doesn't think the seafood is up to par, but we were lucky today, he was open and he was cooking up a storm for us. We ordered more food than I can possibly believe and consumed it faster than you might think possible given the quantities, but somehow, it was just so fresh, so pure that you could eat and eat and eat and not ever feel too full.

We started off with a series of appetizers, all very simply prepared on the grill with olive oil, garlic and some lemon juice. It was so hard to choose so we actually ended up with five dishes as appetizers: wonderfully crunchy but tender sea cucumber, grilled baby squid, garlicky scampis, prawns (stripy ones that looks like tiny painted lobsters), and grilled clams. And then for the main courses we had sea bream (deboned tableside) and monk fish. Both were excellent, but I think the monk fish had the best flavor of the two.

And of course no meal on this trip so far would be complete without some type of dessert. not that we actually had room for it, but we just couldn't help ourselves when the waitress offered us a special dessert plate to enjoy. Actually it was a combination of three desserts, a fresh goat cheese (kind of a chevre, but even fresher) drizzled with sweet Spanish honey, a chocolate torte and apple tart. Very delicious and a good way to finish the meal. If this is how the eating has started out on this trip, I can only imagine that I'll be heading back to Frankfurt with no need to eat again for at least a month.

Lost in America: Gorgeous Philly Gelato

Okay, I admit I'm a sucker for any kind of ice cream. Even in the deepest depths of winter you can usually get me to get at least a scoop. So when I arrived in Philly to hang out with my brother and Denis mentioned that there was supposed to be this amazing gelato store in the city, you know I was completely game.

So after dinner off we went to Capogiro Karl, Jack, Denis, Lisa, Marc, Blair and myself. In the years since college, Denis has somehow turned into a bit of a gelato fanatic. And he wasn't wrong about this place, it was as good as some of the gelaterias I've been to in Italy.

On Saturday night I had this amazing Burnt Sugar Gelato, an scoop of deep, black Chocolate with a little Italian Blood Orange gelato to finish off the trio. Let me tell you. It was worth every calorie.

In fact it was so incredible, we went back the very next day to have a second round. Delicious! Not so good for my upcoming surf trip though. . . .

Lost in Germany and Austria: Kaiserschmarrn and my expanding waistline

After all of the time I've recently spent in Austria, I've developed a slight obsession with a very, very Austrian dessert called Kaiserschmarrn. Basically it's this incredibly doughy, chopped up pancake served with plum sauce and raisins and powdered sugar. It tastes sooo good and is sooo bad for my wasitline. But somehow that doesn't keep me from stuffing myself with it every chance I get. So in an effort to cut down my expenditures on doughy pancake desserts, I've located a recipe that I will now share with you.
Enjoy!

Kaiser Pancakes (Kaiserschmarren)

Imperial Austrian Cuisine by Renate Wagner-Wittula

Ingredients:

6 eggs

200 g (7oz) cake or pastry flour

50 g (1 1/2 oz) sugar

250 ml (8 fluid oz) milk

pinch of salt

40 g (1 oz) raisins

butter

confectioners’ sugar (powdered)

plum purée

Preparation:

Separate the egg whites from the yolks. Thouroughly mix the yolks, sugar, milk and flour. Whisk the egg whites, add a pinch of salt and continue whisking until stiff. Now, carefully fold into the egg yolk mixture. Melt butter in a large pan, pour in the mixture and sprinkle in raisins. Let cook on one side for a few minutes, turn over and tear into pieces with a fork. Now let finish cooking (ideally in a buttered pan in a preheated oven(. Be especially careful not to overcook the pancakes, otherwise they will dry out. Sprinkle with confectioners’ sugar and serve with plum purée.

Lost in Austria: Après Ski in Lech

OK, it's been two days. I've been in ski lessons all day and today, after I finally got to a point where I felt like I was getting the hang of the whole ski thing again.

Until I met up with Nick and Konrad that is. So Konrad is a friend of Nick's who has practically grown up in Lech skiing every winter, all winter long. In fact he's now a ski/snowboard instructor on the mountain. So you could say he's a pretty good skier. So is Nick for that matter. I on the other hand still feel pretty shaky since it had been about, oh I would say probably a good 5-6 years since I'd spent any significant time slipping down a mountainside.

Anyway, I met up with them for après ski and Konrad took us down a pretty steep, pretty moguly slope. So off go he and Nick, gliding down, looking graceful and smooth. Me, I inched down on my über tired legs just hoping that I could survive without suddenly catching an edge and tumbling down. But Konrad took us all the way up to the highest restaurant that was the only one left that would still have sunlight on it so we could have a few drinks before heading back for the night.

Despite the exhaustion, the view was worth it.

But given how tired I already was, you can only imagine how I felt about things after a few glass of prosecco. Somehow it doesn't make it easier to head down the slopes on alcohol weighted legs carrying when the snow has become slushy and then refrozen so it's almost like you're skiing through sand on the super steep slopes. . . .

But I made it. In one piece. Thank god, especially because tomorrow I'm planning to try snowboarding . . . yet more opportunities to fall. I love it.

Lost in Scandinavia: Markets and Reindeer Kebab

As always, I have to track down whatever food goodies possible when I travel, so of course I dragged Doug and Briana over to the Old Market Hall to check out the gourmet goodies.

The hall was small, not even half as big as the Kleinmarkt Halle in Frankfurt, but instead of being filled with fresh vegetables and Metzgerei butchers and Turkish drit was filled with all sorts of fresh fish and reindeer product goodies. There were a few oddities in the market, most notably the bear meat pate and the snow goose pate. Then again I suppose for a region that has bigger animal populations up north it's not so strange. . . I just love checking out local food spots like this, somehow I always feel like it gives me some type of insight into who the people are that live in the city and what they're like.

Anyway, probably the most entertaining random food for Reindeer Kebab that I ended up having for me was the lunch. I mean I'm all for consuming Rudolph just like we did over dinner the other night, but somehow it seems like it kind of defeats the purpose eating it as a kebab. Honestly, after all the kebab cooking it just kind of resembled any old kebab meat, well maybe a little chewier but still very tasty. It's kebab, imported street food at it's finest and most random here.

Lost in Scandenavia: Food, glorious food

As Doug and I winged our way to Finland last night, we decided that we wanted to check out the only Michelin 2-star restaurant in Finland: Chez Dominique. Unfortunately they were booked solid. So we went for the next best thing (in my mind the better choice), a restaurant called Pos3.

Now the thing about Pos3 (pronounced Pos Tres is that was started by two of the sous chefs from Chez Dominique who defected right after the restaurant received it's second star. And they took a fair amount of the front house staff along with them. I love places where the chefs are young and hungry (please forgive the horrible pun), but honestly, these are the guys who always work the hardest to come up with a memorable meal. And it was definitely memorable. Completely worth the almost four hours we spent dining. We skipped the full wine tasting but there was a wine from Le Cedre (a 100% Malbec vintage) that was quite exceptional.

Anyway, I highly recommend checking out Pos3 if you happen to find yourself in Helsinki sometime soon.

Here's what our 7+ course meal looked like:


Pressed shoulder of lamb with Fennel and Truffle Oil








Duck Foie Gras Terrine with Brioche and Saffron Vegetables









Seafood Stew with Brill and Crayfish in a Potato Shell with Lobster and Fried Scallop, garnished with Asparagus Foam and Spinach Puree






Sorbet of Lemon with Champagne








Roasted Deer with Black Truffle, Shepard's Pie and Wine Roasted Pear








Goat and Sheep Cheese Selection






French Macaroon with White Truffle and Hazelnut Mousse**
Rose Marmalade Turkish Delight
Vanilla Marshmallow

**These were so good that we asked for extra macaroons to bring back to the hotel with us.



Peach Melba with Vanilla Ice Cream, Raspberry Sorbet with Fresh Peaches and Raspberries, and Raspberry Juice








Chocolate Ravioli with 12 Chocolate Sorbet

**Note 12 Chocolate is apparently a Venezuelan brand of chocolate

Hanukkah, Latkes and Dad

The Festival of Lights, the famous minor Jewish holiday that grew in prominence during the 50s and 60s when secular Jews in America had to figure out how to fight Christmas envy amongst their children. I love it. Materialism at its finest.

But on a happy note, my dad was back from Berlin in order to kick off the first night of the holiday with me, complete with candle lighting, long winded histories of the holiday and my favorite of favorites: Latkes. Due to an unfortunate oversight on my part there was no dreidel playing or Hanukkah gelt involved, but next year, next year for sure.

Now for those who don't know and love latkes the way I do, let me tell you, they are fantastic. They come in all shapes and sizes and under a variety of names. For instance Germans call them Kartoffelnpuffer. Depending on the recipe they can resemble hash browns, more of a mashed potato type of consistency, or light fluffy potatoey goodness. Everyone loves the way their family makes them and it's practically sacrilegious to defect from the family tradition to another method of preparation. But one thing remains the same regardless of what the recipe is, they are all fried in immense amounts of oil. Delish!

So to all those out there celebrating 8 days of fried goodness, candle lighting and good old fashioned gift giving I say, Happy Hanukkah!

And in the spirit of goodwill, I share my grandmother's Latke recipe:

2 large Russet Potatoes
1 medium Yellow Onion
a pinch of Salt
1 T of Flour
1 Egg (Optional and totally dependent on the consistency)

Canola Oil for Frying

Peel the potatoes and the onion. Pop both ceremoniously into a blender. Blend until completely pureed. Add a pinch of salt and the flour.

Pour enough oil into the pan so it is about 1/2" to 3/4" deep and heat the oil until it shimmers. Test a small spoonful of the potato batter to make sure it is hot enough (The batter will immediately sizzle when it is). Make sure that the oil does not start to smoke!

Spoon the potato batter into the oil, about 2 tablespoonfuls per pancake. Fry on both sides until golden.

Serve with sour cream or apple sauce depending your preference.

**Note: Latkes can be kept warm in a 140°F oven while frying all the batter.

2007 F&W Best New Chefs!

Some of you may remember that a few years ago I took a brief foray into the world of public relations and had the chance to work with some amazing chefs in Chicago and Kentucky. Well, one of my favorite former clients, Paul Virant, was just named one of Food & Wine magazine's 10 Best New Chefs in 2007.

So if you are in Chicago and have the chance, or you haven't been in a while, I highly recommend you check out his restaurant, Vie. It's about 20 minutes outside of the city by Metra and his food is fantastic. Plus he's an all around nice guy and I just love promoting people I like even if I'm not paid for it anymore.

You can learn more about him and check out some of his recipes and even watch him prep one of his dishes here:

Sunday BBQs

Finally a gorgeous weekend in Frankfurt, one where it actually felt like it might be summer! The perfect weather for a BBQ in fact, which is exactly what I did with a few friends from work, Birgit and John Wilson, Michael and Daniel, and the fantastic BBQ stylings of my friend Jon.

Never a dull moment, Jon arrived around 1pm to get the fire going, lit the coals, and promptly set fire to the charcoal bag which lit from sparks that blew out of the grill. I, up to my elbows in hamburger meat, turned around to ask him something just in time to see him stomping madly on the flames. Oh fortuitous beginnings . . . . but that was by far the most dramatic part of our day, with my throwing of the pickle jar coming in a close second. (Ok, so maybe it just slipped out of the fridge when I was grabbing something else, but the shattering jar and splashing pickle juice was fairly spectacular) Fortunately there aren't any scorch marks on my deck. I can't imagine how I might even begin to explain that one to my Hausmeister.

Lunch was a full spread of food: veggie skewers with tomatoes, onions, peppers and fennel, classic all-beef burgers (hard to find straight up ground beef in Germany that makes good burgers, it's all too lean so it often doesn't taste quite right, but these turned out pretty darn good!), brats made Wisconsin style (Midwesterners, you know what I'm talking about here, brats cooked up in beer and then grilled to get that perfect smokey charred taste), German style potato salad and of course classic condiments like relish, Heinz ketchup and French's mustard to really make it an American style bbq. Oh, and to finish off we had my newest dessert creation: Grilled Peaches with Honeyed Mascarpone Cheese and Balsamic Reduction. (You can find the recipe at the end of this posting.)

Several hours eating, drinking and sharing good stories was a pretty perfect way to cap off one of my rare weekends in Frankfurt. I'm just glad the weather actually cooperated for once. Next time I'm around I think it might be time for a pancake brunch, after all Birgit and John have already promised to bring the Bloody Mary's . . .


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Since I claimed initially that this blog was going to somewhat be about food (it is one of my favorite topics after all), I figured I would include my newest recipe. So if you've got a grill, try this out. I think it's delicious and it seemed to go over quite well with my friends:

Grilled Peaches (or any stone fruit) with Honeyed Mascarpone Cheese and Balsamic Reduction

Serves 6

Ingredients:
3 Peaches (half of a peach per person), not too ripe, they need to be relatively firm to withstand the grill
1/2 cup Mascarpone Cheese
1 T Honey
1 cup Balsamic Vinegar, gently simmered until it has reduced to about 4 Tablespoons
1 T finely ground White Pepper

- Combine the Mascarpone and Honey and whip together with fork.
- Clean the grill (you don't want the beaches to taste like burgers or something). The coals should be cooler than when grilling meats but still hot.
- Slice the peaches in half and remove the pit. Brush the cut side of the peaches with a little bit of olive oil.
- Place the peaches cut side down over the hottest part of the grill and cover it with the grill lid. Wait 2-3 minutes. Open the grill and turn the peaches a quarter turn (so they have nice grill marks) and close the grill again.
- After another 2-3 minutes. Turn the peaches over, close the grill and give it five minutes. You'll know the peaches are cooked because if you give them a little squeeze with the tongs they will feel soft.
- Remove the peaches from the grill and sprinkle the cut side with a pinch of White Pepper, top with 1 T of Honeyed Mascarpone and drizzle with some of the reduced Balsamic.
- Serve warm.

If you try this out, let me know what you think. . . you can leave comments here on my blog (Just click on the little link that says comments), or email me.

Mediterranean Tour 2007: Jerusalem

Well, I don't know if I can truly, adequately express my experiences visiting Jerusalem. Anyone who knows me is well aware of the fact that I am not the most religious of people, but still what an experience.

I spent the day on my own with a tour guide who was quite a character indeed (she was Jewish, a scholar of Christianity with a Masters Degree in Biblical Studies, and her cousin was Mayor of the West Bank). The first thing Ruthie told me was that she was going to drive me through the West Bank on our way to Jerusalem, right by Ramallah and through the Palestinian territories. And her first question for me was "You're not frightened are you?" To which I immediately replied, "No. Should I be?" And of course her answer was no.

But that was how the day started.

Ruthie drove me through the West Bank, where I saw the wall being constructed between the Palestinian settlements and the Israeli territories. We drove through the check points and everything. I have to say, what a sad state to see things in. I mean it's almost as if they're reconstructing the Berlin Wall right in Israel. It divides families, it creates tension between the two groups. It's terrible.

After that we made our way through the hills into the outskirts of Jerusalem and stopped on Mount of Olives to see the Garden of Gethsemane which was the garden where, according to the New Testament and Christian traditions, Jesus and his disciples retreated to pray after the Last Supper. Right next to it stands the Church of All Nations, a Catholic church that has a section of bedrock where Jesus is said to have prayed before the night of his arrest. What's interesting about this church is that is clearly built in the Renaissance style and in fact was built by an Italian architect. Once you walk inside it takes a few minutes for your eyes to adjust but then you see these gorgeous purple stained glass windows. Really beautiful. I of course was surrounded by tourists from around the world with camcorders and flashing cameras so it kind of took away from the moment, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

After leaving the church and garden we stopped at an overlook on Mt. of Olives to view the city. Now, as I said, I am not a particularly religious person so looking down on Jerusalem was not a religious experience of sorts, but it was pretty awe inspiring to see this city that has been built up and torn down, conquered and revived so many times over the millennia. You can truly see the division between the bricks in the wall as the city was broken and refortified by each new civilization that took it over. From where we stood I was right above the largest, oldest Jewish cemetery in Jerusalem, where great Jewish scholars and rabbis from the 15th century on are buried. It is important for very religious Jews because it is on Mt. of Olives from which God is supposed to redeem the dead at the end of days.

After leaving Mt. of Olives, we went down to the old city of Jerusalem (less the 1 square mile in total area) and followed a group of young Israeli officer candidates into the walls of the city. I was fascinated to see these young kids, the same age as so many U.S. soldiers, in full military garb, carrying very large weapons and wearing designer sunglasses. It's just a normal part of growing up for them. I can't even imagine it.


But anyway, when we finally made it into the old city I was starving! So Ruthie treated me to a bagel (Israeli style and nothing like what you'd find in NYC) and this green herb mixture called Za'atar which has oregano, marjoram and sumac in it. So delicious. You can put this mixture on bread, meats, tomatos, pretty much anything.

If you want to try it out you can make your own with this recipe:

Za'atar:

• 1/4 cup sumac
• 2 tablespoons thyme
• 1 tablespoon roasted sesame seeds
• 2 tablespoons marjoram
• 2 tablespoons oregano
• 1 teaspoon coarse salt

Grind the sesame seeds in food processor or with mortar and pestle. Add remaining ingredients and mix well.

Store za'atar in a cool, dark place in a plastic zip bag or in an airtight container. It will last this way about 3-6 months if you can wait that long!

After my mid-morning snack we wandered through most of the major sites of Jerusalem, the Temple Mount and the Western Wall (that's me in front of it), the Church of the Holy Sepulchre where I managed to bash my head trying to exit Christ's tomb, (yes I'm just that talented), and I saw the Dome of the Rock but of course I couldn't go in because I am not Muslim. We wound our way through the Arab, Christian and Jewish quarters. It was incredible to see how the feel of the city would change as you moved from one quarter to another. In one street I felt like I could have been in Istanbul or Morocco (not that I've been to those markets yet), and down another there was peace and quiet. A totally different feeling every time you turned the corner.

The last stop of the day was at Yad Vashem, the Israeli Holocaust Museum. I've been to the memorial in D.C. and it was incredibly powerful, in some ways even better done than the museum in Jerusalem. Somehow seeing the museum in Israeli made the experience even more overwhelming. Not that that I believe in violence as a means of resolution, but I understand why so many ordinary Israeli's feel so strongly about fighting for and defending their home. Possibly the most incredible part of the exhibit was the children's memorial. You walk into this very dark, softly lit space, and all around you is the voice of a woman reciting names and ages and home towns. The faces of the children who perished are floating in the walls around you. It's breathtaking and heartrending.

Ruthie told me afterwards that if you were to hear a name and you wanted to hear it again you would need to stay in the memorial 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for two years before that name would be spoken again.

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That night I went out to dinner by myself and dined down at the port. I was sitting there, just kind of people watching at this seafood restaurant I found, when all of a sudden this deaf man came up and plopped two little beanie baby type of stuffed animals on my table. I looked at him but he just moved on to the next table where the couple next to me practically forced them back on him. I of course looked at them at this point (they had been speaking English through their entire meal) and said: How exactly do I get rid of these? To which they replied don't worry he'll just come back and pick them up from the table. Well this was the entrée I needed to start up a conversation, which I did and they did and all of a sudden I was sharing their dessert and found myself with an invitation to visit Vienna from a UN political scientist.

She was fascinating by the way. Originally Hungarian she and her family had been forced to leave the country as refugees when she was in her early teens and had been stateless for a number of years. Her family ended up in Austria where they government ultimately gave her citizenship. She's been there ever since, raised her family there and now is doing analysis of micro-finance programs among Iraqi refugees. And her dinner companion was an interesting guy who had moved to Tel Aviv as a photo journalist. I tell you, the people I meet on this trip are truly unbelievable. And I mean that in the best possible way.

Oh, and before I forget, the food at this place. Unbelievable. I had a fantastic calamari and shrimp mix with this garlicky white wine, butter sauce, but the best part was all of the little nibbles they brought out beforehand as appetizers. Baba ganouj, hummus (the best I've ever had), spicy marinated cauliflower, tahini, and on and on. I could have just eaten the appetizers and salad and gone home there was so much food!

I spent the next day traipsing around the city and Dizengoff Street (one of the major shopping streets in the city and a mecca of Bauhaus style architecture! Did you know that Tel Aviv has one of the largest concentrations of Bauhaus architecture in the world? Me either). I ate the most divine falafel sandwich (which I ordered from someone that didn't speak a word of English . . . I basically just pointed at what the person had before me and said that please!).

Later I found myself back at the hotel watching the sunset and introducing myself to . . . . The GOVERNOR OF FLORIDA!!! Yep. That's right, I met Charlie Crist, the new Governor of Florida who happened to be in Tel Aviv for the 40th anniversary of the 6-day War. I, of course, had no idea who he was and thought he and his entourage were just group of consultants. But slowly I realized that if he was chatting up the King of Jordan and having publicity shots taken with him then he probably wasn't just a consultant . . . Anyhow, he was very nice, talked with me for a moment as we all watched the sunset over the Mediterranean.

I have to say that I have met some very random people so far on this trip: National Medal of Science winner, UN Political Scientist/former refugee, and the Governor of Florida. All in 48 hours! Who knows what might happen next!

Finding comfort food in Frankfurt

Somehow I've managed to locate the German version of Macaroni and Cheese. Don't ask me how, but at the restaurant next door to my hotel I ordered the most comforting food I could have possibly found in Frankfurt after my first day on my own. Kase Spaetzl. Yes that's right. German Mac'n'Cheese. Delicious and comforting and the sheer amount of fat and carbs in that plate of cheezy goodness put me to sleep faster than any sleeping pill I could have ever taken. Gotta love Mac'n'Cheese. In all it's forms, it's always the perfect food. . .