My Kind of Grilled Cheese

It only took us three days to go through this entire loaf of H&F Bread Co.'s dark, earthy, Pumpernickel bread. It toasted up quite nicely for my take on the grilled cheese sandwich (to wrap up National Grilled Cheese month)... inspired by one of my previous posts.

I'm calling it: The Islander.

 

The Islander

8 slices of pumpernickel bread
6-8 tablespoons butter, at room temperature

8oz cream cheese
1/2lb deli-sliced black forest ham

4 Ataulfo mangoes (these are sweeter and less fibrous than the Tommy Atkins variety, but if you cannot find Ataulfo mangoes, you can use whichever are available)

3 large shallots, thinly sliced

1 bunch fresh cilantro

salt and pepper, to taste

Place the thinly sliced shallots into a bowl of cold water for a few minutes, to remove some of the sharpness. Drain and place onto paper towels or a clean dish cloth and pat dry. 

Wash the mangoes and cut into thin slices.

Rouxbe Online Cooking School & Video Recipes

*Even though this video shows them cutting Tommy Atkins mangoes, which are large than Ataulfo mangoes, the same principles apply when cutting any mango.

Heat large skillet or sauté pan over medium heat. Spread one side of each bread slice with butter. Place 4 slices butter-side down in pan and spread each with 1 tablespoon cream cheese.

Top each with a few slices of ham and sliced mango. Season with salt and pepper. Add thinly sliced shallots and a few leaves of cilantro.

Top with another bread slice, butter-side up. Grill, turning sandwiches once until bread is golden and cheese is melted. Serves 4.

David's Take on Pork & Beans

I can't take the credit for all of the dishes that come out of my kitchen these days. While most of the stuff on my blog is definitely my doing, there is a much more experienced and talented palette at my side.

So, I'll post a few of David's creations here and there, sans recipe, for your culinary inspiration and stomach's desire. Why no recipe? Some chefs don't like to freely give away their secrets, especially on their carefully tested (or magically concocted) recipes. I have to respect David's wishes. I ask him *politely* if he minds if I post a recipe that he comes up with, and if he gives me that look... I just post a photo. Another reason is that David usually cooks as he goes (without a recipe in mind), and his recipes tend to have more complicated-than-I-feel-like-typing steps.

Luckily for me, even after a 50+ hour week in the restaurant, he still wants to come home and cook. This was dish #2 to come out of our massive pork shoulder buy. 

It's David's take on pork and beans. Braised and seared pork shoulder with cranberry beans, watercress (can't get enough of these two) and chimichurri. Being from The South, this was not at all what I envisioned when tossing around ideas about doing a variation on the classic dish. It was light and fresh, packed with flavor, and dare I say it, pretty damn healthy.

The Importance of Eating Seasonally

There are plenty of reasons why one should eat seasonally. Without a doubt one of the main reasons is flavor. Take a mango for example, which, a few months ago, would not only cost you twice as much as it does today, but would also not shower you with the amazing sweetness that a perfectly ripe mango can offer. I adore mangoes. Probably due to the fact (ok, mythical fact) that I fell from the mango tree - which is where my mom told me I came from.

A few weeks ago, Ataulfo mangoes started appearing at our international farmer's market. Native to the Philippines and Mexico, they're smaller, bright yellow, luscious, and buttery. Unfortunately, they were all imported from Mexico, but alas, it's difficult to find these type of mangoes in the U.S. (mangoes grown in Florida are usually Tommy Atkins).

This same time last year, I was in the Philippines visiting the other half of my family for the first time since 1995. Sixteen years. My cousins who once were small enough for me to tote around on my hip were now sharing a beer with me at the dinner table.

 

 

I forgot a lot of things about the Philippines... the sights, the sounds, the smells... well, I may have purposely dismissed some of that from my memory.

 

I forgot, or maybe just never realized how good the food really was. Everything seemed new to me, except for my Lola's house... and the taste of a perfectly ripe mango.

Nothing beats the bang! thump, thump... thomp of a mango falling off of the tree and rolling down your roof... then bribing your little brother to climb up there and get it for you. That's right, they are so ripe that they fall off the tree. None of this picking it 2 weeks before it's ready so that it holds up through shipping and processing crap.

Broccoli, Leek & Red Pepper Quiche

I have a lot of odds and ends in my kitchen today, mostly vegetarian. Basics like carrots, onions, and celery. Some broccoli crowns. A couple of Ruby Red grapefruit and Cara Cara oranges. Potatoes. Coconut milk. Randoms things like Jerusalem artichokes and tomatillos stare me in the face saying "C'mon, eat me already!"

The easy way out would be to run to the grocery store and buy something to go with, say, the potatoes. Steak or chicken perhaps. Toss in some broccoli and I've got a decently balanced meal. That's all well and good... but there's no real effort involved, and it also means I would need to spend more money.

Right, now, I can't really afford to be picky.

I knew returning to the States from living in Europe for a year and a half would be difficult. Especially in this economy. I knew finding a job in my original field -interior design- would be unpredictable. I picked up a few decent contracting jobs with my previous design firm for the first few months back in the States, but now find myself back at the drawing boards. In between sending out resumes and typing up cover letters, I'm focusing on getting back to my blog. The last 8-10 months were a rapidly-changing and at times, emotionally-unstable ride, and the words just weren't flowing as freely as I would have liked.

I got my mojo back... but for now the biggest challenge is creating delicious meals on a veeerrrry *tight* budget. Riding on my savings and "emergency fund", coming up with inspiring dishes takes some real planning and dedication. In my last post, I mentioned that David and I had endured a month-ish long vegan stint. In doing this, we actually opened our eyes to how much money we spend on meat and dairy products. Our weekly grocery bills went from fifty dollars down to about thirty. We bought local produce that was in season, which not only saved even more money, but ultimately tasted better too.

Another amazing benefit? I haven't gotten sick in months. My parents always harp on me to take my vitamins, but with flying between countries, visiting family on holidays, and the onset of pollen season here in Atlanta, by now I would be cuddled-up in my comforter with the sniffles. I don't know if it was a weak immune system or the quality of my diet, but with the change in my eating habits has come a change in my heath... for the better.

Ok, back to the food in my kitchen.

Cranberry Beans with Spinach, Red Watercress and Citrus

My dad would laugh if he knew how often I eat beans these days. Growing up I loathed the thought of the little legumes. My chili had to be solely meat-based. I didn't care how much bacon was in those baked beans, and don't even get me started on limas. They just weren't my thing. 

My dad is the undisputed "Bean King" of the family. When visiting me in Paris, we shared long conversations on pintos, kidneys, and navies over a few bottles of red. He would lecture my broke ass on how buying beans instead of steak could save me enough money for retirement. He even wants to write a book about them. He harmlessly jokes about David's background... but I think we all know who the true "Beaner" really is here.

At the start of 2012, David and I challenged ourselves to become dietary vegans - meaning no animal products whatsoever, for one month. The goal was not to just mindlessly substitute our meat and dairy products with "veganized" alternatives, but to focus on eating real food. This posed as an all around food challenge. Finding various sources of our daily nutrients meant... crap... eating beans. The 30-day (ok, I lasted as a true vegan for about 3 weeks) vegan kick completely changed the way I saw food. We ate a lot of beans that month. Chickpeas so far have been my favorite, feeling the least "beany" out of them all. Plus, I can't get enough of Yotam Ottolenghi's hummus recipe in his new book, Plenty. I've truly come to appreciate the nuttiness of azduki, and the versatility of the common pinto.

Attempting to eliminate our canned food intake completely, David and I have abstained from using pre-cooked canned beans. One problem. I become easily frustrated with cooking dried beans. A lot of time and planning is involved in the process. First the beans must be soaked (usually the night before), then cooked for what seems like forever (depending on the bean, of course), and if you don't cook them at just the right temperature, you're left with a super mushy bean with a toothy skin. 

Key Lime Tarts

I got schoolgirl giddy when I passed by a sign at a local bakery that read, "KEY LIME SEASON IS HERE!" O.M.G. Key Lime Pie. WOOOT! If you've ever tasted key lime pie, and I mean real key lime pie (you know, with key limes) you know there's almost nothing that can beat that lip-puckering tart/sweet combo. Regular limes just don't cut it.

The thing about key limes is that they are annoyingly small. To get a good cup of juice you have to go through the agony of squeezing about 2 pounds worth of limes. Without the aid of a juicer or reamer, it can be a bit of a nightmare. Of course, I have neither. I found it helpful to slice the key limes in half and first press them in a bowl with the palm of my hand, to get most of the juice out, then tackle the last few squeezes with my fingertips.

Crispy Yellowtail Snapper with Red Watercress and Citrus

I'm a Florida girl at the core. I love blindingly sunny weather and wearing flip-flops all year round. I pledge to live out the second half of my life somewhere along a beach, and when I die, hope to be sprinkled across the sea.

I adore great seafood.

I also adore great citrus... and good Lord, Floridians know great citrus.

I can't put into words the deliciousness of a blooming lemon tree... or how perfect life feels when a grapefruit is sweeter than an orange... or the joy I get from puckering my lips at the thought of key lime tarts.

Living in Atlanta means I'm too far away to pick the oranges right off the tree, but close enough to get some real Florida citrus from my local farmer's market. I've been looking forward to those early spring months when Mother Nature tells us it's time to boost our immune systems with vitamin C. The powdery blanket of pollen which has turned all the cars in the parking lot a pale shade of yellow let's me know that time is finally here.

Gnocchi from Scratch - First Attempt

Damn I love gnocchi. It brings me back to 2005 when I studied abroad in Florence. I would sit at this small cafe across the street from school, and trade a couple of meal tickets for a fantastically fragrant bowl of the basil and garlic coated potato pillows. It's one of my favorite smells. I can still taste it when I close my eyes. And still, to this day, I have not tasted another pesto gnocchi recipe that has topped it.

Keeping that taste at the back of my palette, I set out to make it myself. I know what I want it to taste like, now how am I going to pull it off?

Step Back and let the Chef do the Cooking

There are times when a person has to know when to step back... 

... and this time, that person was me. 

One thing I've learned from living with other foodies is that things can't always be your way, especially when it comes to cooking. It took a long time, and a broken relationship or two for me to appreciate something as simple as stepping back and letting the other person take the lead. I guess I'm kind of OCD in that that way.

The good thing about past relationships though, is that you learn (hopefully) from those flaws and failed experiences. With new relationships, you test yourself. You react how you normally wouldn't react, and you do what you normally wouldn't do, and maybe... just maybe, you realize it wasn't entirely their fault.

So I put myself to the test. Last week, one of my good friends from college came into town, and she graciously opened up her swanky bachelorette pad (and kitchen) for David and I to just have at it. If David cooked the dinner, she said, she'd pay for all the ingredients. Pretty sweet trade-off. A free meal of whatever we want to cook, in a gas-stove, kitchen-island, counter-tops-for-days dream kitchen? Ideas swirled in my head of what we could cook. Steak? Risotto? CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN?!?!

A Perfect Meal for When You Don't Want to Cook

There are those days when I just really don't want to cook. No, seriously! Usually they're the days when Atlanta traffic likes to make my afternoon commute an hour instead of twenty minutes, or after seventy-five minutes of sweat inducing bikram yoga... I just don't have it in me to make anything worth eating. That's when the fast food drive thru lights start flashing. Not good.

 

I know it's hard to want to cook for yourself. Especially something that's good for you. I've had my share of popcorn dinners with a side of gummy worms. Whether you're cooking for just yourself, or a bouncing off the walls family of 4, this dish is something easy enough for even the busiest of busy bodies. And with all of the rich iron and veggie protein, it'll fill you up without slowing you down.

The Secret to Dating a Chef

Dating a chef is tough. They seem to always be working on those "romantic holidays"... you know, Christmas, New Years Eve, and of course... Valentine's Day. So instead of sitting around and moping about it (which I felt myself starting to do yesterday), I got in the kitchen and made him a little midnight snack for when he got home:

Do something sweet for your luvvy. It doesn't have to be Valentine's Day.

Recipe is here.

Enjoy :)

Leaving Never Never Land...

Crap, is it really February 2012 already? Where has the time gone? I've said it a million times, and yes, I'm saying it once again, the past 6 months have been a crazy whirlwind of ups and downs. Should I recap how I ended 2011?

Where did I even leave off? Wow. Right around my birthday, was it? That far back? I didn't realize it had been that long. This might take a while.

After my birthday, a lot of things started to happen like rapid fire. I previously hinted at a certain chef who threw me a birthday dinner party so delicious I had to wipe my drool off the table... yeah, that chef (*giggles to herself*). Well, as much as we fought it (which is difficult to do in a romantic and beautiful city such as San Sebastian), that relationship started growing into something a bit more... dare I say it... serious...

I mean, come on. HE CAN COOK.

... and he's got some pretty sweet dance moves. Geez.

To be honest, I'm not really that difficult to catch... if you make me laugh, communicate, and feed me (the biggest factor being FEED ME), I'm putty in your hands. But I've never met someone with the same passion, if not a bigger passion for food, than I do.

We ended our summer with some experiences most food-lovers would have wet-dreams about...

End of Summer Slow Down

I don't know where it went, but summer flew by in a blink of an eye. The summer season was intense. A week of fireworks. 60 person barbecues. Six-course pintxos tours that end in massive food comas. Weekly pub crawls that end in massive hangovers. Opening a new reception and chill out area for the hostel. Friends coming. Friends going. Whew. Now that it's calmed down a bit I can take a few minutes to sit down and write about it all.

It's been quite an intense lifestyle change, working at a backpacker's hostel in the small, tourist-packed city of San Sebastián.

I've traded my apartment with an actual bed, my own kitchen, and bathtub that I could actually feel safe bathing in, for a mattress on the floor in a room the size of a closet, a kitchen I share with 40 other people, and waiting in line for the bathroom. It feels a bit like going from the real world back to living in the college dorms.

 

But I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Semana Grande in San Sebastian!

If I'm going to jump back into this, I might as well go BIG, right?

Just as well, since yesterday marked the beginning of Semana Grande(Spanish)/Aste Nagusia(Basque) (Literally: "Big Week") in San Sebastian. Semana Grande is a massive 7-day festival full of non-stop concerts, fairs, markets, parades, parties, activities, and spectacles. The city literally erupts with people, and there is something to do and see on every corner. Complete madness. Absolutely incredible.

Uniformed gunmen paraded through the streets while goofy bobble-headed Basque characters danced around and chased kids spanking them on the bum with blown up sheep stomachs. I don't exactly know the meaning behind it... but it was hilarious watching the kids run in terror.

Coming Up for Air

3 months of silence. I've gone off the grid. 

I thought my life was one hell of a roller coaster ride, but these past few months have really thrown me for a loop. For a while I wasn't sure if I could continue writing.

Just three days after returning from an unforgettable 5-week trip to the Philippines, Taiwan, and China, I got the one phone call that everyone wishes they would never have to experience. My cousin, and best friend, Chris, had unexpectedly passed away. In a single moment, my entire world came to a screeching halt. Two days later, completely floored and broken, I packed my bags with tear-filled eyes and made my first trip back to the States since I'd left last July.

The 8-hour flight from Paris to Philadelphia was filled with fighting back tears, sporadic moments of heart-wrenching pain, looking out the window into the clouds and praying for the strength to make it through this. It was, and still is the most excruciatingly painful thing I've ever had to deal with in my entire life. There are days when I can smile and remember all the great memories we shared, all the things he taught me... but those days where I can't breathe and tears uncontrollably fall always seem to sneak up on me. I'm taking it one day at a time.

Eating The Philippines : BALUT!

It's been nothing but go-go-go for the past month now... hopping around the Philippines, Taipei, and Shanghai. It's now my last day... and I'm so sad to be leaving. I want to get in one last post before I leave here - I'm dying to get all these experiences up on the blog - so here it is. My adventures in eating BALUT.

One of my most vivid memories of the Philippines came rushing back that first night in my Lola's house. Once the sun sets, the haunting chants of the balut vendors begin. "Baluuuuut! Baluuuuut!" Like clockwork, they make their rounds through the streets pushing carts of steaming balut, or simply carrying them in a woven basket. Their calls sound the same today as they did when I was here last... 16 years ago.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Filipino delicacy, balut is a boiled, fertilized duck egg. To put it bluntly, it's like a hard boiled egg with a baby duck inside. The embryo is partially developed, complete with feathers and a beak. No wonder it was on Fear Factor. I'll warn you in advance, if you're planning on Googling photos of balut, I hope you have a strong stomach. In fact, just the sight of them makes me a little puke-y. I had to mentally prepare for about 6 months. No joke.

A couple weekends ago, all the cousins got together for some quality time - without the parents. The boys packed the day full of sight-seeing, shopping, movies, and street food... which in turn, meant I had to eat balut. 

We didn't have enough time to go through the streets eating meat-on-a-stick and balut along with the locals, but my aunt made sure to have a heaping supply ready that night when we came home for dinner. She rounded up the vendor as he passed by and filled a wicker bowl with about 2 dozen of them. If everyone in the family was going to eat it, I had to try it. No backing out.

If you think of it as a cross between a hard-boiled egg and chicken stew, the thought of balut is a little easier to swallow. The hard things to swallow, literally, are all the little bones and feathers that you have to chomp on as it goes down. You eat everything... bones and all. And then there's the beak.

Our oldest cousin (after me), the doctor, gave us the 101 on the anatomy of balut... and how to eat it like a pro. First you crack the shell at the blunt end, and suck out the juice. Then you eat the yolk, the large and not so scary yellow part. Then, the hardest part... the embryo... with the feathers... and the beak... that's the last part to go down the hatch. GULP.

Following in his footsteps, our youngest cousin showed us all how he could stick it out with the big guys.

So after all that, the rest of us did our first round together. 

And just to one up everyone, Butchoy showed us how to put some real hair on your chest. 

So I did it. I may not have eaten the WHOLE thing, but I ate a few good bites of balut. It actually doesn't taste half bad... kind of good actually, no where near as bad as I imagine stinky tofu would taste. I would eat balut 1 million times before trying stinky tofu.

Traveling The Philippines & KCC Challenge: Diniguan & Pinakbet Pizza

I'm sitting here in my Lola's living room... the breeze of a swaying fan keeping me cool-ish on this hot and humid evening. I missed this, and uncomfortably endure the 94°F with a smile. I've been in the Philippines for about two weeks now, and finally have a moment to sit down and write a little something. I've seen, experienced, and EATEN so much already! My journal is exploding with random impressions, scribbled recipes, and spur-of-the-moment sentences. I can't imagine how much I will end up writing about this trip.

I'm starting off with the 4-day road trip I just took with my family. Thirteen-deep in one van. 12 hours of driving. Lots of pee breaks. Not to mention the 6 who followed in a second van, and lastly our cousin who took the overnight bus to meet up with everyone for only one day. Whew.

We drove from Manila to the Ilocos Norte region of the Philippines. It's where my "true roots" stem from, with Sarrat as my family's hometown. We passed by all of my Lola's properties in Sarrat, and even visited the now demolished lot (right across the street from the Marcos Museum) where my great grandfather's house once stood.

We had lunch above the river where my mom, aunt, and uncles used to play in and bathe when they were younger.

Munching on Filipino empanadas and tupig - an Ilocano rice cake made by cooking a mixture of glutinous rice, buko (young coconut), coconut milk, and sugar inside a banana leaf - we beat the blazing heat by relaxing in the coolness of the flowing river.

One of the stops along our 12-hour road trip up to Ilocos Norte was in Paoay. I'm skipping to this point in my Philippine travels because it ties in perfectly with this month's Kulinarya Cooking Club theme. One of the main attractions of Paoay is Paoay Church, an over 300 year old, virtually impenetrable mass of brick and coral. Listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, this church boasts nearly 2-meter thick stone walls and 24 massive buttresses that classify its architectural style as "Earthquake Baroque". Seriously, this thing is solid. 

This month's KCC Challenge is brought to us by Lala at This Little Piggy, and April's theme is: DECADENCE. A few words immediately come to mind: over-indulgent, luxurious, gluttonous. Filipino food has been widely categorized by Western cultures as a cuisine rich in meat and rice. While there certainly hasn’t been a lack of meat and rice during my past two weeks here, there has been a wide abundance of vegetables and fruits. 

To give a glimpse into both sides of the Filipino health spectrum, I give you something good and something bad, but dually decadent. Across the street from Paoay church was Herencia Café, where our herd of 20 hungry road-trippers stopped to have some dinner. The house specialty: Pinakbet Pizza.

Since my last KCC post just-so-happened to be pinakbet – this was a perfect dish to up the ante and take it to the next level. Between 7 cousins we ordered two pinakbet pizzas.

The pizza was better than we all imagined. Green beans, eggplant, okra, and tomatoes all cooked until shriveled and then piled atop a thin crispy crust and smothered with cheese.

To balance out all the “healthiness” we also ordered another over-the-top specialty, Diniguan Pizza. Diniguan is traditional Filipino dish made by stewing pig parts in it’s own blood. It may sound a little, um, how should I put it… - different - to many, and trust me, even my aunt (who is American) loved it… until we told her exactly what it was. Oops. Hehe.

The diniguan pizza was just damn naughty. A thick layer of pig’s blood was slathered over the crispy crust, topped with the stewed pork bits, melted cheese, and a healthy (haha) sprinkling of chicharonnes (crispy pork skin). I got weak in the knees before I even took a bite. I think we all went a little nuts. Everyone at the table with a camera started snapping away as if we were the paparazzi. 

Final verdict? We all agreed; the pinakbet pizza was much tastier than the diniguan pizza, but both rightfully earned their spot in the decadence category.

Kulinarya Cooking Club Members:

Kath – http://www.acupcakeortwo.com/
Trisha – http://sugarlace.com/
Trissa – http://trissalicious.com/
Olive – http://www.latestrecipes.net/
Caroline – http://whenadobometfeijoada.blogspot.com/
Ninette – http://bigboldbeautifulfood.blogspot.com/
Peach- http://www.thepeachkitchen.com/
Althea- http://www.busogsarap.com/
Asha – http://forkspoonnknife.blogspot.com/
Malou – http://www.skiptomalou.net/
Cherrie – http://www.sweetcherriepie.com
Acdee – http://acdee.blogspot.com/
Valerie – http://www.acanadianfoodie.com/
Sheryl – http://crispywaffle.com/
Divina – http://www.sense-serendipity.com/
Anna – http://www.anniesfoodjournal.blogspot.com/
Dahlia – http://www.energychef.blogspot.com/
Joy – http://joyjoycreativeoutlet.blogspot.com/
Maribel – http://www.foodgeek.webs.com/
Tressa
Jen – http://www.jen-at-work.blogspot.com/
Pia – http://bisayajudkaayo.blogspot.com/
Malaka – http://thegrandinternational.com.
Mimi – http://lapinchecocinera.blogspot.com
Erika – http://ivoryhut.com/
Kat – http://twitter.com/alanokat
Lala – http://thislittlepiggywenttothemarket.blogspot.com/
Selfie – http://eats.sefiebee.com/
Connie Veneracion - http://homecookingrocks.com/
Oggi - http://oggi-icandothat.blogspot.com/
Katrina - http://lardonmyfrench.blogspot.com/
Rochelle Ryan - http://www.whydiss.blogspot.com/
Marica – http://cuppycreme.blogspot.com
Diona – http://titaflips.blogspot.com/
Rowena - http://saraplicious.blogspot.com
Theodore – http://chefbyday.wordpress.com/
Gianna – http://the-empty-fridge.blogspot.com/
Mireille – http://dirtyicecreaminyourlunchbox.blogspot.com/
Marishka – http://rishka.multiply.com/
Annapet – http://moonglowgardens.wordpress.com/
Boyet – http://reelandgrill.blogspot.com/
Adora – http://adorasbox.net
Yaz – http://whoatemytomato.wordpress.com
Marvin – http://www.eatmarvin.com

Ironically Perfect Timing

I've been debating whether or not to write about this, but seeing that is a pivotal moment in the journey of this blog... I feel I must. For most of you who know me, you know my reasoning for coming to Paris. For those of you who don't, I did as most love story clichés play out. Met an amazing guy on a whirlwind weekend, and two weeks later, he moved in with me. Fell in love, quit my job, and moved to Paris with -but not completely for- said guy. Then the plot reached the climax, where the two who were once so carefree and crazy about each other realized it just wasn't meant to be.

Crazy at the beginning... and crazy until the end.

This all of course, happened on April Fool's Day. I couldn't have picked a worse day to change my Facebook status. Seriously. I spent the next two days explaining to my friends that yes, we did break up, and no, it's not an April Fool's joke. Joke's on me.

It was completely mutual... but the sting still lingers here and there. I'd been denying to myself that our problems were anything serious for quite some time. The whole move to Paris wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. I blamed it on the weather. I blamed it on the language barrier. In the end, it was much more simple. We both just wanted different things in life. For me, the fact that our relationship was heading towards the breaking point didn't come into focus until this trip to San Sebastian. I just realized how much more "myself" I was in Spain. More carefree, more outgoing, more me. Maybe it was the sun, or the ocean, or the people, but something about San Sebastian just felt... right.

So here I am, 2 weeks later... about to board a plane. Strangely, the timing couldn't be any more ironic. For the next 5 weeks, I'll be visiting my family in the Philippines, exploring Taiwan, and spending a week in Shanghai with some great friends. It's the perfect time for me to clear my head. Reboot my life. And when I return? I'll be heading back down to San Sebastian.

My goal in this whole life change was to push myself. To find myself. To experience new cultures. To cook new things, speak a different language, and travel. I don't regret a thing. I've done a lot in the past 10 months. I've semi-learned to speak French, and I can understand it quite well. I've traveled a bit, and learned a lot about French culture. I've eaten a lot of things I've never eaten before and cooked a lot of things I've never cooked before. Even still, I don't feel I've fully accomplished what I came there to do... even though I don't exactly know what that is. I'm not ready to go back to the States, which is why I'll be spending the summer in Spain. It's something I need to do for myself... a stop before going back home. Wherever that may be.

What about the blog? Well, yes, it sucks that the namesake of this blog doesn't quite fit the bill anymore... but I'm not giving up on it. I love it too much. So instead of teaching myself how to walk, talk, and cook like the French, my purpose for this blog will be a journal of my travels, eating experiences, and understanding what it means to be misunderstood. Heck, I may even throw in a recipe or two.

San Sebastian - Paella

 

When in Spain, one usually thinks of paella, right? Earthy, creamy, saffron-infused rice that's speckled with all sorts of ocean creatures. Yeah, I think of it too. A few of us were hungry for a little more substantial meal (pintxos aren't always very filling), so we went in search of a good paella joint. Apparently, San Sebastian is not known for it's paella, but we were determined to find a decent one. I mean, it has to be more authentic than the paella in Paris.

Three of us set out on this paella adventure. Walking through the parte vieja (old city), we took a turn down a small alley-way and stumbled upon a hole-in-the-wall that had a menu out front with paella for 10 Euros. Not too bad, we agreed. Plus, the place looked like one of those family run establishments... mother running the register and daughter waiting tables while dad hacks away at huge slabs of beef with a meat cleaver. 

We went inside and sat down in the corner of the restaurant, chatting to each other about just how hardcore the man with the meat cleaver was... and how excited we were about this paella. The daughter-waitress brings us the menus, and before we even open them, lets us ever-so-kindly know that they are out of paella. Of course. Glancing at each another with a look that only says, "Do you think we should leave?" our friend Tim suggests we stay. We were all starving. We can get paella another time. 

The rest of the menu was quite expensive compared to the reasonably priced paella. Both Quentin and Tim ordered appetizers... I think to try and save money, but I went all out and ordered the prawns at 20 Euros a plate. Eeeek. I figured for 20 Euros, I'd definitely get enough food to fill me. I was picturing grilled prawns on a bed of something with a side of something... and after waiting what seemed like forever, our plates started to come out. First came Tim's cured meat. Yes, that's how I'm going to describe it, because he actually thought he was ordering fish... but to his surprise was handed a plate of about 12 thin slices of meat. That's it. Ok, it was an appetizer... so then Quentin's blood sausage came out. A plate of about 8 slices of blood sausage. That's it. 

I was starting to worry about my own plate, not because of the quantity of the food, but because what I had ordered was about three times as expensive as what the guys ordered. I held my breath as the plate made it's way to the table. 

Let me just preface this by saying that I would like to go back to this restaurant again. As my plate hit the table I looked down to see about 10 medium-sized prawns in a neatly grilled row on a clean, white plate. Yep. That was it. No veg, no starch... just 2 Euro a piece prawns staring right back at me. Oh, there was a basket of bread on the table, but we later figured out that we had to pay for that as well. We all looked at each other in utter shock. Did we do something wrong? Is there more food coming that we don't know about? We took our sweet time nibbling on our measly plates and grabbed the bill and got out of there.

Later we were told by Sara, the girl running the hostel, that we went to one of the best restaurants in San Sebastian. That old man with the cleaver? Apparently he's the master of the grill. All we could do was laugh.

Paella count: Zero.

Still starving (what, 10 prawns fill you up?), we figured we would give paella another go. Earlier that night we walked past a place that was advertising about 10 different variations of paella. We hesitated going, as it seemed like more of a chain-restaurant. The back-lit plastic "picture menu" on the wall reminded me of those fast food Chinese joints... and I wasn't very optimistic. But after the ridiculous "meal" we just spent a fortune on, we just wanted a little bite of paella, no matter how bad it was going to be.

I can't even remember the name of this place, that's how much it left an impression on me. The three of us split one order of paella, and ordered some much needed beers. I can't tell you if it was good or not; in crazy starvation-mode I burned my entire mouth on the first bite. I couldn't even taste the rest of my meal. Fail #2.

Still craving paella.

The next day we did what we should have done in the first place. We asked Sara, the girl working at Urban House, for a paella recommendation. Of course, she knew a really good place that wasn't too expensive. We took another friend along to join in the paella-ness. As we got down near the marina, we found the restaurant, Txoko (pronounced "choco") and grabbed a table inside. Being very optimistic, we did it up big... and ordered two plates of fried calamari, paella for four, and a bottle of cider. 

The paella came out, and so did our cameras. 

This thing was beautiful. Steaming, golden-yellow rice with mussels, langoustines, and prawns peeking through... we were so happy.

This time, I made sure to let my food cool down before shoveling it into my gullet. It was delicious. Lusciously rich with bright, fresh crustaceans. Yum. It might not be the best paella in all of Spain, but it was by far the best paella I've had to date. 

So fellow travelers, take my advice. It never hurts to ask a local.