We had traveled to the Dominican Republic’s Punta Cana last winter to break away from New York’s cold and gray and connect my daughter with the island of Mamá and Papá, where the air blows salty, the greens and blues amaze, and people treat you like they’ve known you their whole lives. For this trip, we were celebrating my husband’s birthday and getting our family and friends together all under one roof.
We stayed at a gorgeous villa in the Punta Cana Resort and Club where we greeted the day with generous cups of Café Santo Domingo, one of the island’s treasures and one of my favorite things on earth, on the poolside terrace and then fueled up with a royal breakfast spread of fresh fruit, eggs, toast, plantains, and batatas (sweet potatoes). Mornings went usually like this: We drove the golf cart to nearby Playa Serena which was an accurately named secluded spot with cool turquoise waters, sand as fine as flour, and a breezy beach front restaurant called The Grill perfect to grab a beer and snack after a dip in the ocean or some golf. more »
Smoky cardamom and fiery chilies perfume the air, while brick red curries and fragrant Biryanis lure me in with their spicy warmth. A laboratory of desserts with wondrous incarnations of milk and sugar are dizzyingly enticing, and aromatic cups of chai ground me with a sense of place. This is India – and she’s still on my mind.
Throughout our journey, I found new and unexpected flavors in dishes that have secured a place in my memory. Dal Makhani, smoky black lentils that simmered for 24 hours until reaching a rich and velvety consistency. A triangular jewel of a dessert made from slivers of pumpkin dyed a psychedelic green and filled with dried fruit and nuts. Emerald Palak Paneer, a mild spinach curry balanced by cubes of light soft cheese and served with crispy papadum cones and golden garlic naans. Golden masala dosas folded over perked up potatoes and paired with black tea for breakfast, and Anarkali sweets molded from cashew nougat, spiked with saffron, and wrapped in edible silver in the late afternoon. more »
On how I felt at home, in Mumbai03.28.14
If you’ve been following me on Instagram @50Bottles you know that I kicked off the year spending six weeks in Mumbai, India and returned to NYC with a baby girl in arms. My husband and I were pregnant via surrogate and traveled halfway around the world to make our dream of a family a reality.
It was my first time in India and I didn’t know what to expect. Friends who had visited had warned me that it was a country filled with extremes, where sprawling high-rises neighbored makeshift slums, cows and elephants sauntered down traffic lanes, and kids played in dirty water. In reality, what got me most weren’t these observations, which seemed matter of fact once I arrived, but its volume, and especially the human density. With about 13 million inhabitants, to say that Mumbai is a congested city is an obvious understatement and makes NYC’s eight million inhabitants seem paltry by comparison. Everywhere you turned, things came in droves: people, cars, animals, buildings. I had stepped into another dimension, a parallel universe that captured the entire spectrum of humanity in one single place. more »
It’s hard to believe that a week ago I was flying home from one of the most exhilarating food journeys of my life. I was at Mistura, the largest culinary festival in Latin America held in the culturally rich and historically fascinating country that is Peru.
This year the festival took place beneath a flurry of white tents in Costa Verde, a stretch of land bordering the Pacific Ocean and the dusty side of a hill that leads to the Magdalena district of Lima. Weaving through the countless stands, markets, and fascinating talks hosted by some of the world’s most celebrated chefs, I was (almost) able to grasp the dizzying diversity of Peru’s cuisine. Of the country’s 700 native dishes, I dove into luscious ceviches and light-as-air tamales from the capital of Lima, but also studied more obscure plates from other regions of the country, like seco de cabrito or stewed goat served with rice and beans and champús, a warming dessert made with soursoup and pineapple.
There was the vibrant and welcoming Gran Mercado, or grand market, with its endless varieties of potatoes (over three thousand in Peru), quinoa grains of every shade and size, olives as plump and briny as Greek kalamatas, Amazonian fruit whose twisty names tripped up my tongue, medicinal herbs, and more keepsakes to tuck away in my trunk of sensory treasures. more »
Last Saturday night, top bloggers from all over Latin America gathered together at La Mar Cebichería in Lima, Peru to celebrate Chowzter’s annual Latin American 50 Tastiest Fast Feasts. I had my first Pisco Sour in Lima that night (which was much stronger and sweeter than I had anticipated) and met international food personalities and bloggers from Venezuela, Chile, Brazil, Colombia, Mexico, Argentina, and London. The night was chilly and drizzly, but inside the restaurant was as warm as the pisco in my belly. Imagine being in the company of a room full of kindred spirits – everywhere I turned to, people spoke in the universal language of food. We washed down classic Peruvian dishes like ceviche, tiradito, and papa a la huancaína with pisco sours and white wine. I thought to myself, it can’t get any better than this, until my name was called to speak about a Dominican dish that was chosen as a runner up.
I had high hopes for NYC’s new bike-sharing program from the first day I laid eyes on that silver rack by my house. Thrilled by the possibility that NYC was becoming a little bit like Paris, instead of riding through the dreamy Jardin de Tuileries, I imagined getting lost in glorious Central Park. Who needed to bike to the Louvre when one could bike to The Met? Gone would be the days of standing in a crowded bus with an armpit on my face. Or sitting in the back of a cab fearing for my life. My vibrant, passionate, and at times brutal NYC life would be made just a teeny bit easier with this new mode of transport. Plus, $95 per year for unlimited use of bikes without having to worry about someone snatching it or where to park it? Sounded good to me!
This past weekend, we rode downtown from Hell’s Kitchen with the wind on our backs, via Hudson River Park to Greenwich Village, Tribeca, and eventually one of our favorite Vietnamese spots in Chinatown. We stopped for Earl Grey ice-cream, discovered Garson Yu’s T.I.N.Y. installation on Pier 57, and walked through Lispenard Street. During our four-hour bike tour, we only had one setback. We had to return the bikes every 30 minutes, which made it a bit of a race against time.