WHEW!

 52 Receipts in 52 Weeks!

 If you happen to be counting, you'll know that I posted the 52nd cuisine of 52 yesterday. This pile of receipts, menus and business cards represents a boatload of research, eating, cooking, thinking and writing--and filing. It was a lot of work, but it was also a tremendous amount of fun. And I learned an awful lot about how people on this planet view food, prepare it and share it. In short, they do it with love.

So what now?

The Hungry Passport blog had a life before this particular project, and it will continue to have one afterward. But I'm not through with my exploration of the world's cuisines, either. I've only just started. Since there are certainly more than 52 out there, I'll keep exploring, but rather than one each week, I'll focus on one each month now while continuing to blog about other food and travel related subjects.

And after a year of delicious and intriguing research, I'm beginning to draw together my ideas for a book based on this tasty escapade. It's too early to say much now, but stay tuned for updates on the book and on the cuisines.

One thing I CAN tell you is that Himself and I have talked about this project a good deal during the past few days. We agree that those meals we recall with the most fondness--and felt were the best meals--were those we had with friends. Not surprisingly, shared experiences make for the most memorable times.

I hope reading these entries has encouraged you to seek out meals you've never had before and to find out how people cook and eat in other countries. And to try your hand at cooking some of their dishes yourself.

Have a great Labor Day weekend, and go eat something you've never had before, okay?!

Life Lessons in the Kitchen

Last night we had friends over to redeem their wedding gift certificate: a his-n-hers cooking lesson. They're two of the busiest people I know, so I wanted to teach them how to make dishes that are simpler than they seem and that they'd want to make again. Italian's always a winner, so that was our cuisine.

I feel like I learned more than I taught.

I learned that it's okay to strip down the agenda. Casey and Missi were just returning from four days of camping, so they were tired when they got here, and it was a little late when we started. Instead of teaching them to do everything on the menu, I went beyond prepping and made some of the simpler things myself in advance. I selected two items to focus on teaching them: pasta and tiramisu.

A pasta machine can be an intimidating contraption, but once you give it a go, you realize it's not so difficult. And once you've had fresh, homemade pasta, you never want the dried-stuff-in-a-box again. So I talked them through making and rolling dough, cutting fettuccine and assembling ravioli.

Ravioli: Hide the yummy filling between a couple of pieces of dough and glue 'em together with a painting of egg.

 
Fresh fettuccine: Putting those Play-Doh skills to practical use. This is waaaay more fun--and tastier, too! They were impressed with the pasta maker and pleased to know that it doesn't cost a gazillion dollars. I see more fresh pasta in their future.

I learned that in this setting, you don't have to sweat too much technique. After all, this isn't for a grade. The tiramisu wasn't quite as voluminous as it could have been, but I figured it was more important to demystify the dish than to get into the minutiae of folding the yolk mixture with the whipped egg whites just-so for maximum volume. The results tasted great.

Divide and conquer: Missi combined the yolks and sugar,
while Casey focused on frothing up the egg whites.

And I learned that it's okay to set something on fire--within reason. And that you don't have to panic if it happens. While I was busy explaining how to broil the bruschetta without setting it on fire, IT CAUGHT FIRE! (There's a humility lesson in there, too.) But a quick dousing in the sink took care of that, and, after laughing our butts off and taking pictures with the cremated bread, we moved on to make the pasta while Andy produced some relatively carbon-free bruschetta. The bruschetta was supposed to be a starter, but we had it later with the pasta and enjoyed the tomato-bread salad as a starter. No problem!

Which wine pairs best with charcoal?

Essentially, it's all about having a good time, so if everything isn't explained to the n'th degree, that's okay. We had fun and enjoyed each other's company, and the food wasn't half bad either.

Most importantly, we made memories. That's a gift we all received, one that doesn't need exchanging, can't break and won't gather dust.

The Dream Omelet

God bless The Onion! Those guys can make me snort soup through my nose every time.

Check out Chef Cooks 'Dream Omelet' From Recipe That Came To Him In A Dream. It's a great antidote for all those years of cooking demos we’ve endured on the morning television "news" shows.

Bon appetit! And if you're not going to eat those keys, may I have them? I'm starved!

(And if you're in the mood for more Onion-styled, food-related silly business, check out their news report Domino's Scientists Test Limits Of What Humans Will Eat.)

You say paella . . . I say jambalaya . . . let’s call the whole thing yummy!

In New Orleans last week, I took a course in Creole and Cajun cooking, and I appreciate the point our instructor, Saundra, made about what happens when populations migrate to new areas with their old recipes in tow. Essentially, they must use what they have at hand in their new environment and adapt their recipes as best they can.

For example, European settlers to the Louisiana lowcountry brought their recipe for paella, and it metamorphosed into jambalaya, as they had to substitute tomatoes for the saffron and oysters for the mussels. In the process, a wonderful new cuisine was born.

Corinne puts the finishing touches on the jambalaya. With a dish this varied and flavorful, you’ll never miss the saffron and mussels!

As she handed everyone a packet of recipes, she encouraged us to make gumbo at home. “But,” she said, “if you live where there’s no andouille, use what you have—kielbasa or chorizo or whatever is native to where you come from.”

This is the way it has always been done. We cling to our customs and recipes, but as we settle in new places, we have to make adjustments. With humankind's propensity to roam the earth, who’s to say how authentic any recipe--or any custom--is?

Angry tummy, grateful heart

This past week’s Thanksgiving festivities were a bit out of the ordinary for me. I came down with a stomach virus. Whether it was through food poisoning or a random bug floating on the air or perched on the shopping cart handles and ATM buttons, it changed my focus from food to oh-my-god-anything-BUT-food.

So much emphasis is placed on holiday meals, particularly at Thanksgiving, because of that historic first feast we persist in trying to duplicate in our own unique ways. Take away that focus, and what do we have? Plenty of fun, but we have to shift gears. I enjoyed time with my family that was spent doing things other than devoting all our efforts to food-related activities.

Don’t get me wrong—I LOVE heading into the kitchen to “put the big pot in the little one and stew the dishrag,” to quote my grandmother’s peculiar—and unfathomable— expression for cooking for a special occasion. But this time around I realized even more acutely that the people you want to be with most on a holiday are the ones who will take care of you when just don’t feel like celebrating it.