Going home is such a funny thing for any grown child- it grows stranger and more surreal with each visit. Living in a foreign country, these homecomings become even more peculiar. Upon each return, new vocabulary words are tossed around to describe trends of which I’m ignorant, a years worth of movies I’ve missed are discussed with faded enthusiasm, ideas have changed, people and pets have died, been born, and gotten married or divorced.

This year, bamboo was suddenly a fabric, Modest Mouse played on the radio, 11 year olds wore Uggs over Skinny-Jeans, global warming became dinner conversation, several new engagements and divorces were announced, and the iPhone became just another household object.
Fortunately, however, some things never really change. One of these things is my mother’s kitchen: always crowded, lively, warm and full of healthy smells. I love to cook in that kitchen. It’s the center of the house, and an adventure in itself. You never know when platters will come careening off their precarious position atop the refrigerator, if you’ll ever find that knife you’re sure existed yesterday, or what surprises you’ll find in the back of the cupboard. It’s a space without time. Sure, she can buy new plates or reorganize the pot lids, but the spirit of that kitchen remains the same: spontaneous and creative. It’s the perfect kitchen for experimenting: if necessity is the mother of invention, then abundance must be the rogue father- and they mingle peacefully in this timeless room. My cousin Shelly, who grew up to be a chef in 5-star restaurants, remembers her first culinary adventures in my mother’s kitchen: a recipe that called for cacao, white sugar and enriched cake flour would be nearly unrecognizable when replaced with carob, molasses and spelt.
While it’s not as extreme in its substitutions as it once was, this kitchen has retained her cozy vagabond soul. She has been the backdrop for my childhood cooking shows and the host to hundreds of dinner parties with countless combinations of guests- some who came to stay and others destined to leave us. She has seen garden grubs explode in a wok, and witnessed my transformation after my first adventure in Italy, as I rolled gnocchi with my future husband. Through all the years and thousands of meals, she has always opened her crumb-covered arms, and welcomed us home.
It’s comforting to know, in a world transforming too quickly to absorb, where my native land feels more alien with each passing day, that there exists this cozy, bustling refuge brimming with the aroma of memory, evolving yet never really changing.

We went on a walk with Zio Micchi while we were down in Moneglia this weekend. For us it was a walk, for Zio Micchi it probably couldn’t even be considered a stroll. This man is nimble as a mountain goat, and at 70 years old leaves us all panting in his dust. We were on a rocky hilltop, gazing down at the stunning view of the Mediterranean, when something caught my eye. “That plant looks exactly like asparagus!” I giggled.
“That’s because it is!” replied Zio Micchi, explaining that once, wild asparagus grew on all the hilltops around Moneglia, but has long since been over-harvested in the areas closest to town. We collected a few stalks, which he gingerly wrapped in his handkerchief to present to his wife (Zia Marghe) upon our return. “Just wait and see how delighted she is!” he winked.
Indeed she was. She immediately went to work washing the stalks, coating their tips first in flour, then dipping them in some beaten egg and frying them in olive oil. The result (need I even say it?) was mouthwatering. The flavor was different than domesticated asparagus, it was more delicate and balanced, with garlicky and nutty overtones. They were devoured enthusiastically by all, and I instantly understood the reason for their disappearance from nearby hill-tops. I would certainly eat them every day if they were so close within reach.

Focaccia Genovese:
Note: Zia Marghe didn’t measure anything except the flour, so the ratio of water and oil might need some tweaking. Preheat oven to 250°C (450-500°F). Mix 1 cup warm water with a package of dry yeast. Stir until dissolved and set aside for about 5-10 minutes.
Add yeast water to 500 grams (about 4.5 cups) flour and stir with a fork. Add about another cup of warm water, 2 Tbsp sugar and 2 Tbsp olive oil and continue to mix with your hands until well combined. Drizzle with some more oil, cover with a clean, damp cloth and let rise for about an hour.
Cover a baking sheet (or two if using a little toaster oven) with oiled parchment paper and dump out the dough on to this surface. Spread the dough out to the edges of the baking sheet pretty thinly using the tips of your fingers (coated in olive oil to avoid sticking). Make sure to leave finger imprints in the dough, that’s what makes it have it’s final bumpy appearance. Drizzle with more olive oil, don’t be shy, this is what makes it authentic- lot’s of olive oil. It should pool up in all your little finger holes. Don’t worry, it will be absorbed and not greasy. Sprinkle the focaccia evenly and generously with coarse salt. Toss in to hot oven and keep an eye on it. It’s ready when the top turns golden, about 20 minutes or less, depending on the oven. Eat while hot.

I’ve been looking for a dictionary of flavors. I’m sure something like this exists, I’m just not sure where. Lately, I don’t follow recipes at all, I just scan my cookbooks for new ingredient combinations and apply them to whatever I feel like making. For instance, I wanted to make up a new salmon dish the other night. I knew that fennel and orange went well together from a salad I make, and they are both at their peak season here right now. Red onion fits well with salmon and could balance out the sweetness of the other two flavors. Violà, my new favorite salmon recipe. It’s so delicious I’m sure someone has thought of this before me. I love putting the pieces together like a puzzle. There are so many combinations out there, waiting to be discovered, transformed, adapted….

Orange marinated salmon over grilled fennel

Ingredients:
Salmon fillet (the thicker the better)
Fresh Fennel (the herb)
A handful of capers
Red Onion, thinly sliced in rings
White Wine
Olive Oil
Oranges (I used delicious red oranges from Sicily)
Lemon
Fennel bulbs (1 per person)

Prep:
Lay the salmon out flat in a large tupperware and marinade with the juice from one orange, one lemon, a cup of white wine, olive oil, onion, capers, salt and pepper, and some sprigs of fresh fennel (not chopped). Cover and refrigerate for 30 min to an hour, or less if you’re pressed for time. In the meantime, wash fennel bulbs and remove outermost, toughest layer. Cut them in to quarters vertically, brush with oil and sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper. Toss these babies on the grill and cook until soft when poked with fork (I used a grill pan, but if you don’t have one you could just brown them in a regular pan).
Next, prepare the fish. I like to sear it in a large, non stick skillet, but if you have an actual grill fired up, that would be a delicious alternative. To sear it, really heat up your biggest pan over a medium-high flame with no oil. Pick up the salmon fillet, shaking off the marinate, and toss it (pink side down) in the hot pan. Let it sear and brown for a few minutes (check the color so it doesn’t burn), then pour in the marinade and cover pan. After another minute or so flip the fish, add more wine if it’s getting dry, and cover again. Cook until the fish is done, but not over-done, it should be pink and moist inside still. Serve over the grilled fennel bulbs and garnish with a slice of orange.

Original Toll House Inn Chocolate Chip Cookies:

Ingredients:
2 1/4 cups flour
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
2 sticks butter
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla
2 lg eggs
1 3/4 – 2 cups chocolate chips (semi sweet)
1 cup nuts (optional)

Directions:
PREHEAT oven to 375° F.
1. COMBINE flour, baking soda and salt in small bowl.
2. Beat butter, granulated sugar, brown sugar and vanilla extract in large mixer bowl until creamy.
3. Add eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.
4. Gradually beat in flour mixture. Stir in morsels and nuts.
5. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto ungreased baking sheets.
6. BAKE for 9 to 11 minutes or until golden brown.

This year, bamboo was suddenly a fabric, Modest Mouse played on the radio, 11 year olds wore Uggs over Skinny-Jeans, global warming became dinner conversation, several new engagements and divorces were announced, and the iPhone became just another household object.

Fortunately, however, some things never really change. One of these things is my mother’s kitchen: always crowded, lively, warm and full of healthy smells. I love to cook in that kitchen. It’s the center of the house, and an adventure in itself. You never know when platters will come careening off their precarious position atop the refrigerator, if you’ll ever find that knife you’re sure existed yesterday, or what surprises you’ll find in the back of the cupboard. It’s a space without time. Sure, she can buy new plates or reorganize the pot lids, but the spirit of that kitchen remains the same: spontaneous and creative. It’s the perfect kitchen for experimenting: if necessity is the mother of invention, then abundance must be the rogue father- and they mingle peacefully in this timeless room. My cousin Shelly, who grew up to be a chef in 5-star restaurants, remembers her first culinary adventures in my mother’s kitchen: a recipe that called for cacao, white sugar and enriched cake flour would be nearly unrecognizable when replaced with carob, molasses and spelt.

While it’s not as extreme in its substitutions as it once was, this kitchen has retained her cozy vagabond soul. She has been the backdrop for my childhood cooking shows and the host to hundreds of dinner parties with countless combinations of guests- some who came to stay and others destined to leave us. She has seen garden grubs explode in a wok, and witnessed my transformation after my first adventure in Italy, as I rolled gnocchi with my future husband. Through all the years and thousands of meals, she has always opened her crumb-covered arms, and welcomed us home.

It’s comforting to know, in a world transforming too quickly to absorb, where my native land feels more alien with each passing day, that there exists this cozy, bustling refuge brimming with the aroma of memory, evolving yet never really changing.

Ingredients:

• 1 large onion
• 2 large red peppers, diced, about 2 cups
• 1/2 lb white mushrooms, quartered, about 2 cups
• 1 medium zucchini diced, about 1.5 cups
• 1/2 small butternut squash, cut in to small cubes, about 2 cups
• olive or veggie oil
• 2 Tbsp minced garlic
• 1/2 Tbsp whole cumin seeds, toasted then crushed into a powder
• Salt
• 1 Tbsp chopped fresh sage
• 1 Tbsp chopped fresh oregano
• 1/4 lb. smoked cheese, grated, about 1 cup
• 1/4 lb. dry jack cheese, grated, about 1 1/4 cup
• Vegetable oil for frying
• 1 dozen corn tortillas
• 1 can enchilada sauce
• 1 can mole sauce
• chipotle peppers, canned in abodo sauce

Preheat oven to 400°F.
Toss the veggies in large bowl with the oil, garlic, cumin and 1/2 tsp salt. Spread the veggies on two baking sheets and roast for 15 minutes, turn, and roast until tender, about another 10 minutes. Return veggies to bowl, and season with a very finely chopped chipotle pepper and some of it’s tomato sauce. Adjust according to spiciness desire. You may also sautèe some poplanos and add them to the mix, it gives great flavor. Add the rest of the herbs and salt and pepper to taste.
Reduce oven temp to 375°F
Combine cheeses, reserve 1/2 cup for garnish.
Pour about 1/4 inch oil in to skillet and heat until just below smoking point. Using tongs, dip a tortilla in the oil for just a couple seconds. Place on a paper towl to drain oil. Repeat with rest of tortillas.
Mix together your enchilada and mole sauce, or make your own. Pour 3 cups on the bottom of a 9×13 inch baking dish. Place some veggies in the center of each tortilla and sprinkle with cheese. Roll ‘em up tightly, making sure the filling extends to both ends, and lay in the dish- seam side down. When they’re all rolled, ladle enough sauce over them to cover completely.
Cover with foil and bake until they’re bubbling, about 25 minutes. Sprinkle with the reserved cheese and serve.

*NOTE: You can roast the veggies, make the filling and grate the cheese in advance. Assemble enchilada rolls and place in pan about 2 hours before serving, but wait to pour the sauce over them until right before they go in the oven.

Delicious Roasted Butternut Risotto:

Ingredients:
Arborio or other risotto rice (about 1/3 or 1/2 cup per person)
1 butternut squash
1-2 yellow or white onions
2 cloves or more garlic
1 Tbsp finely diced, fresh rosemary
1/2 cup white wine
broth or bouillon
Parmesan cheese

Peel, de-seed and cut the butternut in to 1 inch cubes. Toss in a roasting pan with some olive oil, salt and pepper. Roast it in the oven at 375° for 20-30 minutes or until it is soft when poked with fork, and starts to turn a darker golden. Remove and set aside to cool. When it’s cooled off a bit, throw it in a food processor and whip it up.
While the squash is roasting, start your risotto: Bring broth to a simmer and keep at a bare simmer, covered. Process the onions, garlic and the finely diced rosemary using an immersion blender or food processor until they turn to finely diced mush. Toss the mix in your favorite risotto pan* with some olive oil and a slab of butter. Sautèe for about 5 minutes.
Add your rice (about 1/3 to 1/2 c. per person), and toast it for a minute, stirring to make sure it doesn’t stick. Add the wine and let it sizzle and pop for a minute.
Stir in 1/2 cup simmering broth and cook at a strong simmer, stirring frequently, until broth is absorbed. Continue simmering and adding broth 1/2 cup at a time, stirring constantly and letting each addition be mostly absorbed before adding the next.
After about 8 minutes, add the squash-mush. You don’t want to add too much (it’s not soup) just use your judgement. You want it to be flavorful and a rich, pretty color, but not to overwhelm the rice. Continue adding broth until rice is creamy-looking but still al dente, about 18 minutes total, depending on the rice (check out the instructions on the box). When the rice is done, add some freshly grated Parmesan cheese and a chunk of butter. Taste for salt and pepper. Stir, then cover the pot and let sit for about 5 minutes before serving. Enjoy thoroughly.

*a good risotto pan should be wider than it is tall, with a thick base. Non-stick is ideal, but whatever you have will work.