SpiceLines

On Monday, rivers of fire flowed down the slopes of Mt. Etna, the tallest, almost continously active volcano in Europe. All these rumblings are occurring in eastern Sicily, near the town of Catania. Guess what? We'll be there soon.
AP Photo by Davide Caudullo, Lapresse.

B and I are about to escape, to Sicily, that is. Between bites of almond gelato and plates of cinammon-spiced couscous, we might catch a glimpse of Mount Etna in full eruption mode. Just two days ago molten lava spewed 600 feet into the air. Surely we'll at least see a puff or two of smoke! But there will also be gently decaying palazzos, an early morning fish auction, and wineries, including one that produces berry-rich wines from Nerello grapes grown in Etna's dark volcanic soil. Through it all, we'll be trying to decipher the enigma that is this magnificent and forbidding island.

Lots of you have written to ask what's up with SpiceLines: Let's just say that the new website is slowly taking shape. Very slowly. But I've been working behind the scenes to make it all happen, with the help of stalwart and talented designer Mike and his Austin-based crew. Of course, all work and no play....so it's off to Italy to eat, drink and explore. I'll be back in May, hopefully with a new, much improved SpiceLines.

See you then!

Where am I? A few clues: It's closer to Venezuela than Miami. The surf is Atlantic. Amelia Earhart slept here. Give up? All will be revealed...eventually.

I'm taking a break.

This time it's for real: Beach, wild surf, palm trees. Coconut cocktails, spicy shrimp seviche. Tan feet, bathing suit, baroque pearls. And sleep, lots and lots of sleep.

I won't be away long, maybe just a month (or two.)

Behind the scenes, SpiceLines is getting a make over. Along with the new website, there'll be exciting adventures to share. As usual, I'll be on the spice trail, tasting vanilla, nutmeg and saffron. There'll be recipes for delicious things to eat, and cocktails to dream on. A new mortar and pestle (or two), and views of a splashy tropical garden. Sicily is on the horizon, but don't forget the fourth annual cookbook giveaway.

Patience, please! I'll see you in April (or May)...

Oatmeal is the blandest dish imaginable, but when infused with aromatic chai spices and topped with rum soaked raisins and toasted cashews and coconut, it becomes a truly opulent breakfast cereal. Just don't eat the hellebore...

Things don’t always work out. For instance, I might eye a new dish with the greatest anticipation, imagining how delicious it will be.

And then it falls flat.

This happened a couple of weeks ago. On a wet, grey morning, I shivered into our hotel dining room. It was cold by the window, and the view was bleak. A perfect day to take an off-road driving lesson: There were mud puddles everywhere, and pelting rain was in the forecast.

But I perked up when I discovered oatmeal with chai spices, a breakfast item that promised a better start to the day. How warm and savory the spiced cereal would be, especially with stewed fruit and crunchy nuts strewn over the top! With a strong cappucino, my eyes might even stay open.

It was not to be.

There was not a trace of spice in the bowl of mushy, lukewarm oatmeal that arrived on a silver tray, the top already congealing. The accompaniments were laughable: a few slivers of cooked apple and bits of walnut. Let’s not discuss the cappuccino.

But the idea of infusing aromatic chai spices into one of the blandest dishes imaginable was superb.

So this is my version...

Continue reading "Better Breakfasts: Oatmeal with Chai Spices, Rum Raisins and Toasted Coconut" »

It’s known as the Italian Garden, but where is it, really? Not in Italy, that’s for sure. You'll find it on an 8,000-acre Blue Ridge estate, with grounds designed by Frederick Law Olmstead.

This is not my garden. But you knew that.

In my garden, there are no marble cherubs. No curvaceous reflecting pools. No sweeping vistas or long stone walls.

I putter around on a single acre. Definitely not more.

That’s why I love visiting other gardens. Especially in winter, when you get to see….

Continue reading "The Winter Garden: French Geometry, Italian Cherubs, Hot House Blooms" »

Smoky pimenton adds a layer of sultry flavor to a simple dish of sauteed fingerling potatoes, green beans and roasted peppers. Green Spanish olives lend a bit of tanginess to the vegetables.

Savoring the pimenton-sprinkled octopus at Curate Bar de Tapas, I had a double revelation: First, pulpo can actually be delicious—that is, tender and mellow tasting—when cooked properly. Second, I wondered why all my pimenton was buried at the back of the pantry.

Five or six years ago, after taking a paella class in Santa Fe, I bought four tins of Spanish paprika, as it’s known here, at the bricks and mortar shop of The Spanish Table. Miraculously, although the tops are a bit rusty, the paprika is still full of flavor. One variety is sweet and a little tangy, two were decidedly bitter, with a trace of sweetness, and one was spicy, but with a distinctly bitter edge. All, except for the sweet pimenton, had been smoked. In Spanish that’s called ahumado.

Why on earth did I forget about pimenton, I wondered. Especially when it comes in such beautiful tins….

Continue reading "Recipe: Sauteed Fingerling Potatoes with Roasted Red Peppers, Green Olives and Smoky Spanish Paprika; the Pleasures of Pimenton" »

Authentic tapas in Asheville? At Curate, you can feast on everything from pulpo a la gallega (octopus in pimenton) to secreto iberico a las finas hierbas, a pure iberico pork skirt steak infused with smoke from burning rosemary sprigs.

Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t like octopus, as least as it’s usually served. Words that come to mind are rubbery and fishy-tasting. And oh, those suckers…

This has worked out well for B, since he loves the dreaded mollusc. He always snags any sashimi that strays onto my plate, and is content in the knowledge that he can enjoy Locanda Locatelli’s insalata di polpo e patate novelle without losing a single bite.

But this week our forks jointly hovered over the last exquisite sliver of pulpo a la gallega. Thinly sliced, showered with Spanish paprika and napped with olive oil, it was the dish that finally converted a diehard refusenik into an incipient addict.

We found pulpo a la gallega on the menu at Curate, a two-year-old, rather traditional Spanish tapas bar in Asheville, NC, of all places. It's a laid-back mountain-college town with a hippie vibe far from the sophisticated streets of Barcelona, Madrid and Seville, where bustling bars are filled with wine-drinking, tapas-eating regulars every night.

And yet…

Continue reading "Asheville's Global Table: Octopus with Spanish Paprika, South Indian Uttapam with Coconut Mint Chutney, Crab Cakes with Moroccan Tomato Jam" »

In the language of flowers, the red camellia symbolizes the flame of true love. The graceful petals of C. 'Crimson Candles' could easily "ignite" a dark woodland forest.

“You’re a flame in my heart.”

Or so the Victorians mused, when imagining the secret meaning of the red camellia. In the language of flowers, the pale pink camellia symbolized “longing,” while the white camellia stood for “adoration, perfection, loveliness”.

But the red camellia captures true love. The way it flickers brightly in the heart, even when loveliness fades and perfection is clearly out of reach.

In China, where camellias have grown wild for centuries, the flower is said to symbolize the love of a man and a woman: The petals represent the feminine, while the calyx, which holds the petals at the base, is the masculine. When the flower fades, they fall together, joined even in death.

La Dame aux Camelias, a novel by Alexandre Dumas fils, was the inspiration for Verdi’s opera La Traviata. The original tale was inspired by Dumas’ affair with the beautiful Marie Duplessis, a camellia-wearing courtesan who, for a time, was the toast of Paris. She died young, at age 23, of tuberculosis, aggravated, thought her doctors, by the bouquets that surrounded her.

The luminous Greta Garbo played the title role in George Cukor's 1936 film adaptation, Camille.

On cheerier note, the leaves of the camellia have given us one of the world’s most delicious (and addictive) beverages: tea...

Continue reading "Hearts on Fire: 'Crimson Candles' from My True Love" »