YOU'RE READING MY DIARY: SMALL PLATES

"Is this your first time at [this restaurant]? Let me tell how it works." Wait, let ME guess: It's small plates, right? And these small plates are meant to be shared, right? Of course. I've been living in DC for 11 years, and the spread of the small plates restaurant has been steady and inexorable. Restaurants may call them tapas, meze, bites, cicchetti*, or whatever, but the idea is all the same: All courses have now been replaced by appetizers, which are fun and multitudinous and give us patrons the idea that yes, we can have it all!

Reaction to small plates has always been ambivalent. Fans see small plates as a joyful approach to dining, one made of many new flavors to be enjoyed in an almost Mediterranean social closeness. Critics complain they don't even remember what they ate, and in any case, they're still hungry. What can I say? Although I consider myself a voracious eater with an bottomless curiosity for food, I am becoming increasingly critical of the small-plate approach.

I don't want to imply I'm a defender of quantity over quality (god forbid), but I am completely convinced that each and every food thrives in the right portion. 

Dear small plate: We just met, and it's already time to say goodbye.

Consider this. Nigiri sushi pieces are and should be small— just think about eating an iPad-worth of rice topped by a slab of raw tuna and you'll know what I mean. But you cannot be emotionally satisfied with a duck sausage the size of a baby's thumb, or a mini-rice ball, or a single spoonful of gelato, or your personal bay scallop ceviche, or a fraction thereof, especially if you still think small plates are for sharing. (And how on earth am I supposed to share that egg yolk?)

So I thought about it, and here is my conclusion: When a meal consists of too many small plates, food becomes just a savory or sweet tease that goes nowhere, an ephemeral joy, a culinary mood swing, a meal-interruptus. It's like speed dating for food, only it never leads to an actual date. What can I say? Maybe I'm still a romantic at stomach. 

So, restaurants, please reconsider your small plates. Sharing and tasting can be great fun, but how about finding the courage to offer a meal of solid, brave dishes that are mine, all mine, to love and to cherish till dessert do us part? Do you think I can't handle it? Oh, I can. I do. I do.

*Cicchetti are Venetian tapas. Yes, I was brought up on small plates, but the beauty of cicchetti is that they are an accompaniment to the aperitif. The real meal comes an hour later.

15 ESSENTIAL FOODS TO BRING HOME FROM ITALY

 I just came back from a very fulfilling vacation in Venice where I was surrounded by family, friends, and amazing food around the clock. It was also Carnival, my favorite time of year to be home, and I'm happy to report that I consumed as many traditional treats as humanely animally possible (check out this post on traditional Carnival fare). As I stuffed my luggage with delicious foods to bring home to the States, I thought it would be great to share with you some of my go-to culinary imports so you're prepared for your next trip to Italy. My list is definitely not exhaustive, but it still is a useful starter that can be customized regionally anywhere you go along the sunny Boot. All of the items are approved by U.S. Customs (no meat, no fish) and presented here in random order.

Let's start.

1. SAFFRON

I know you can buy saffron in the United States, but in Italy saffron is sold in these adorably colorful and font-gorgeous packets that are cheap and super easy to stash in your luggage. One sachet will suffice for a risotto alla Milanese or a 6-portion batch of saffron gnocchi.

2. CONDIMENT JARS

Dried tomatoes, porcini mushrooms, eggplants, olives, artichokes... You can find these items in the United States, but often in name only. Italian condiment jars can be so delicious and packed with so much fresh flavor to shock you into shame for whatever you had been eating before. What you see in the picture is a jar or Sicilian semi-dried cherry tomatoes in extra-virgin olive oil. Yep.

3. REGIONAL COOKIES

Every single region in Italy, and possibly every single town, has its own traditional cookie. My region is Veneto, and our cookies are crumbly and often made with corn flour like these Zaeti I wrote about some time ago. And if you travel around the rest of Italy, you'll find cookies made with almonds, walnuts, figs, pine nuts, marzipan, honey, wine, lemon, and whatever else, coming in a heart-stopping variety of sizes, shapes, and textures. A final note: Italian cookies are called biscotti, all of them, and as far as I know, they're never chewy. Give that up.

4. EGG PASTA

I'll always slip a couple of boxes of tagliatelle paglia e fieno ("straw and hay") in my bag because it's MiniBee's favorite pasta and one that makes him literally squeal with joy when I make it. Egg pasta is heartier and more flavorful than regular pasta and comes in many different shapes. Serve it topped with butter, sage and loads of Parmigiano or with a bolognese sauce, and be happy. The pasta in the picture is very delicious but not particularly high-quality, but you can find fresh pasta in many alimentari (small grocery stores selling fresh cheese, cured meats, etc.) if you need to add some wows into your life.

5. REGIONAL PASTA

Every region has its biscotti, but also its pasta. What can I say? I'm trying to promote #glutenwild on Instagram, just so you know where I stand on carbs. Pasta is a great import because it's beautiful and universally beloved, and because there's almost an infinite variety of shapes to choose from. Bassano, a beautiful town north of Venice, makes some superb pasta that tastes amazing and has a great bite. Plus, the pasta boxes look great, which makes it a great gift, too. This one I'm keeping, though.

6. DRIED PORCINI MUSHROOMS

You can definitely find dried porcini mushrooms in many U.S. stores, but let me tell you once again, IT'S NOT THE SAME. High-quality, authentic Italian porcini mushrooms smell like heaven and come in big, beautiful, leathery slices to be softened in warm water to enrich anything from your bolognese sauce (that'd be a Tuscan ragout) to a mushroom lasagna. Dried porcini mushrooms are not cheap, but they are a cooking game-changer and another amazing gift to bring home to a dear friend.

7. DESSERT MIXES

So sue me. Not everything on this list is regional and fresh and approved by Slow Food. I don't care if you make all of your panna cotta and crème caramel yourself—sometimes it's nice to just heat some milk, dump in a concoction of flour, sugar, and powdered gelatin, and enjoy. Dessert boxes are fun all over the world, and I have a total soft spot for the ones that try to be fancy. They're dirt cheap at 2 euros each, and since they are foreign, nobody has to know you didn't make your dessert from scratch.

8. CHEESE! 

Can you believe I put cheese in the eighth position? Neither can I, but really my photo is not that great. That said, the United States might reject all foreign cured meats (WHY, OH WHY?), but they do accept cheese, and I can live with that for the moment. Italian cheeses come in an almost absurd variety and they are so much cheaper than in the U.S. that it almost hurts. And with a little research, you can easily find a grocery store willing to seal-package your cheese for maximum shelf life and casein enjoyment. Cheese, of course, makes the greatest gift ever, but it's so hard to part with it, I won't condemn you if you keep it all for yourself.

9. CANDY ET AL.

I've learned there's a $1000 fine on Kinder Eggs, so I don't recommend you buy those, but next time you're in line at an Italian grocery store or buying bus tickets at a tobacconist's, get something from the candy display. Pocket Coffee (in the picture) are chocolates filled with actual espresso. You need to be a little careful when you bite into them not to spill their content, but the effect is so gratifying you'll be glad you tried. These are also dirt-cheap and make for some great stocking-stuffers for the espresso-lovers in your life.

10. RAVIOLI & TORTELLINI

It's not a secret that I could eat ravioli and tortellini every day. And for a time I did, to the dismay of my sister who was living and dining with me then and who still maintains I caused her an aversion that lasted well over a decade (boo-hoo). Ravioli and tortellini for me are the perfect meal: A thin layer of pasta cradling a soft heart of perfectly-paired ingredients, to be topped with the simplest of sauces: butter and sage, olive oil and Parmesan, cream, tomato sauce, etc. You can definitely find both ravioli and tortellini in the United States, but the good ones are often absurdly expensive, and the bad ones do not really deserve the name. I'm talking about gummy and thick pasta and mysterious "three cheeses" filling where no good cheese can be identified and accepted as such. When you're in Italy, get your hands on some local-brand ravioli with a fancy filling, and eat them in the couple of weeks after you get home to make your return less traumatic.

11. GREAT CHOCOLATE

When the UE was formed, one of the first points of contention that Italy had was that the Italian market was suddenly flooded with crap chocolate made with cheap vegetable oils. It was a bitter war that gained prominent real estate on all Italian newspapers and that I believe fueled the rise of the Slow Food movement in my country. The chocolate in the photo is from the Sicilian town of Modica, and it's famous for its deliciously crunchy texture due its "cold" preparation inspired by an alleged pre-Colombian recipe. But really, there are so many amazing chocolate varieties in Italy (gianduiotti, anyone?). Just get some.

12. PARMIGIANO REGGIANO

I already talked about cheese in #8, but I do need to give a special mention to Parmigiano Reggiano, the king of cheeses. Not only Italian Parmigiano is about half the price compared to what you buy in the United States, but it's usually a nicer cut. The very common and very dry "double-crusted" Parmigiano you find here is rather depressing to me, so I'm always happy to bring home either a more central cut or a more aged piece (it goes up to 30+ month). Grate it on your best pasta or risotto, or see it disappear in a millisecond when you cut in chunks and serve it to guests. Also great to turn your kids into cheese-snobs.

13. FANCY PESTO

You might need to do some research here because the best pesto is usually fresh, but there are specialty pestos in jars that are totally worth purchasing. The one in the picture is made with pistachios, which makes it decadent and lavish enough to be placed in a proper altar in your pantry. Attention, though: This is the kind of treat that runs the risk of never being tasted because you always wait for the right occasion. Don't fall into this trap. Find those pistachios a home on your plate.

14. MORE PASTA

Am I repeating myself? Check #5 again and tell me you don't want to bring home more regional pasta. These bigoli are almost like thick spaghetti (but not as thick as bucatini) and might be my favorite pasta on the planet. So forgive me for posting them, but I could stare dreamily at this box for hours.

15. MORE COOKIES

If you still have room, then you have to try more Italian cookies. In many supermarkets, you'll find a huge variety of cookies that Italians usually consume for breakfast. There are not as sweet as American cookies, and they are small enough to be eaten in clusters of threes. Kids will love them, and you will, too. These ones are made with chocolate and orange. Yum.

DEAD CHEF'S BEST OF FOOD IN DC (AND BEYOND)

A pork bao from People's Bao

To celebrate the 20th consecutive year I put "eat better and exercise more" at the top of my New Year's resolutions, I decided to scrap that resolution altogether and replace it with something more achievable. No, it won't be "complain and procrastinate" (even though I'm tremendously successful at both), but "open up and learn", which is inspirational and vague, hence, totally within reach.

I'll start with the "open up" part by giving you my personal list of the 20 best foods in and around DC. I know lists are more popular at the end of the year, but this is not a closure, it's a beginning. End-of-the-year lists are judgmental, whereas start-of-the-year lists are optimistic, and generous.

You're welcome.

For what concerns the "learn" part, I hope you readers will want to share your most beloved foods with me. I don't go out as often as I would want, but give me an edible target, and I'll jump on it on my next outing, whenever that might be.

But let's move on the list. I based my picks solely on personal preference and not on any high-cuisine standards. Some foods come from fancy restaurants, but there's comfort food from stands and cozy neighborhood spots, too. Every dish hits a different spot for me, whether I'm out for dinner with Mr Bee or desperate to pull some happiness out of my cranky kids on rainy weekend mornings. There is a lot of meat, I'm afraid, mostly because I'm basically a home vegetarian and a partying carnivore, but I promise I'll expand my horizons in the future. Foods are listed alphabetically, and you really shouldn't ask me to choose a favorite: They're all like my children to me.

DEAD CHEF'S BEST OF FOOD

1. BARA CHIRASHI SET @ SUSHI TARO
17th Street

I've been to Sushi Taro for four amazing dinners since its transformation into a high-end restaurant, but lunch is still my very personal treat, one I try to enjoy when I can extricate myself from parental responsibilities. Chirashi—a box of rice topped with all kinds of raw fish—is my go-to choice. A bountiful explosion of quality, bathed in natural light, that makes me as happy as a little girl in a Rainbow Brite theme park.

2. BUTTERMILK BISCUIT @ REPUBLIC
Takoma Park

I'm done with brunch. And not only because we are all kind of done with brunch, but also because brunch for me is mostly an imposition from my visiting parents who think my kids are ready for a sit-down meal at a proper restaurant. Of course, at 11am the kids are not hungry yet, so Mr Bee and I just spend the time sequestering knives and salt shakers from them, cleaning up spills on and under the table, blowing dust off tater tots that had fallen to the ground and that our kids deem still absolutely edible, and eating a medically worrisome amount of scrambled eggs (leftover and not). The only exception to this horror is brunch at Republic, because somehow the decor captivates my children enough to keep them calm, and because their fresh buttermilk biscuits are deliciously salty and flakey, and such a far cry from standard, lazy brunch fare that I can pretend—in my butter haze—that my kids are amazingly well-behaved, and that I am indeed a great mother. Scrambled eggs are soft and cheesy, too, so this brunch becomes definitely worth the effort.

3. BLACK BEAN NOODLES AND GARLIC CHICKEN WINGS @ DA RAE WON
Beltsville

I was introduced to this gem of a Korean-Chinese restaurant by a couple of dear gourmand friends a couple of years ago, and it's still a beloved destination for my family. The noodles are pulled to order (you can watch the chef at work as soon as your waiter communicates your order) and are served with a glistening black bean sauce that everybody of every age I know adores. The garlic chicken wings plate consists in a massive pyramid of crispy chicken wings topped with garlic and sticky sweet sauce. I'm pretty sure Mr Bee would happily live on those for the rest of his life.

4. CALZONE VERDE @ MENOMALE
Brookland

Almost 6 years ago, I knew right away I was having a boy when I suddenly started ordering calzones left and right. Without that instinctive ordering choice, I would have never enjoyed this masterpiece. This is by far the best calzone I've had, served by the most authentic Neapolitan pizzeria in town. Ham, mushroom, mozzarella, and pesto make for a very delicious filling, and I'll stab you with my Pizza scissors if you try to steal the soft calzone corners from me.

5. COMET HOT WINGS @ COMET PING PONG 

Forest Hills

I'm not the biggest wings fan, but these deserve a standing ovation. These dark and spicy and vinegary chicken wings are fall-off-the bone delicious and served with a thin horseradish sauce that stares down with due contempt at all other wing sauces you might have encountered before. Let me just say it: Wings at Comet are so delicious, they almost taste like pork.

6. CROISSANT @ LE CAPRICE
Columbia Heights

It was mystifying to me to come to the United States and see that most croissants look like worn-out slippers. Really, though, why are they so pale, deflated, and depressing? And the flavor? Sometimes they taste like burger buns laced with margarine. Le Caprice does a pretty good job of delivering fresh croissants that are buttery and crumbly and shapely, and it's a pleasure to have one while sitting in their sun-filled room, possibly in the company of a very happy toddler whom you're initiating to the joys of French patisserie. Other pastries at Le Caprice are also good, and I'm personally partial to the Pain aux Raisins, but I'd ask if they are freshly baked before you order (if you catch my drift).

7. DUCK BAO @ PEOPLE'S BAO
Mt. Pleasant Farmers' Market

This is a farmers' market stand that I originally found at Eastern Market, and what a find that was. I tried the pork bao, a pillowy soft steamed dumpling filled with a hefty portion of slow-cooked, ever-so-juicy pork. I was having one of those awful weekend mornings that parents know so well, and this beautiful bao immediately washed all my anger and depression away with its greasy esophageal caress. On a subsequent visit, I tried the duck version, and was in love.

8. HAM SANDWICH IN ON ONION ROLL @ MGM ROAST BEEF

Brentwood

There should be more places like this: Big delis with massive hunks of slow-roasted meats on the counter, hand-carved to order to deliver you a most satisfying sandwich. Roast beef, ham, turkey, and brisket rest gloriously on the counter, ready for your order. A neighborhood gem if you live in Brentwood, but worth a trip from elsewhere, too.

9. HANGER STEAK @ RAY'S THE STEAKS
Arlington

I am still mourning the old location of Ray's the Steaks on Wilson Blvd, because it had the effortless and competent charm of modern Italian trattorias, but, as they say, whatever. Ray's does meat beautifully and affordably, and this tougher but super-flavorful cut is one of my favorites. Personally, I list the smell of charred hanger steak as one of my favorite perfumes. If you share my passion, do yourself a favor and try this one.

10. HONEY GOAT CHEESECAKE @ ROOM 11
Columbia Heights

Pastry Chef Lizzy Evelyn graced DC with this beloved cheesecake that, in my opinion, is a mile above any other cheesecake I've ever eaten here and elsewhere. Gone is the chalky heaviness of regular cheesecake (sorry, it's true), and in comes a new, sweet and tangy creaminess. It's one dessert you're allowed to close your eyes in delight with every bite, even though that makes it easier for your fellow diners to steal a spoonful.

11. HOUSE-MADE TOFU AND WILD MUSHROOM CURRY @ DOI MOI
U St

It was hard to pick one dish from this Southeast Asian restaurant on 14th Street, because I love everything I've tried there, and believe me, I've tried a lot. I'm choosing this vegan curry because someone else ordered it but I stole half of it (at least). It was so much more flavorful than I'd thought, and a joyful reminder of how great wild mushrooms can actually taste. Doi Moi is one of those restaurants where you're already planning your next visit when you're halfway through your meal.

12. LAMB SANDWICH @ RED TOQUE CAFÈ
Shaw

Staff at Red Toque might squirm a bit when you place your sandwich order because they're trying to promote their regular menu, but until they start making their sandwiches less delicious, it's going to be very hard for me to stray from this lamb marvel. This Indian/Middle Eastern restaurant serves a lamb sandwich made of chunky, juicy, and spicy meat pieces and fresh vegetables, all wrapped in a soft and buttery naan that I believe has been slathered in mayo. Yeah, mayo. It's a sandwich straight out my hungry subconscious.

13. YELLOWTAIL JAW @ IZAKAYA SEKI 

U St

I picked the yellowtail jaw because it's wonderful, but really, any other fish dish from this informal Japanese treasure would have done. Izakaya Seki reminds to us all that good fish is actually SWEET, and I'm forever thankful for that. I don't know why it is so hard to buy fresh fish in DC (recommendations?), and my first bite of fish at Izakaya Seki was basically a Proustian madeleine for someone like me who grew up on the Mediterranean Sea. But really, the whole menu is filled with happy surprises. Oh, and they serve one of my top-5 favorite foods: Ankimo, or monkfish liver. Just go.

14. PECAN WAFFLE @ CAPITAL CITY CHEESECAKE

Takoma Park

I stopped eating waffles because I learned they are, more often than not, just the dried-out cousins of my beloved pancakes. I'm happy I made an exception for this. The waffle is only slightly crispy on the outside but rich and creamy on the inside, and the pecans add that coffeeish kick that turns the plate into the perfect weekend breakfast. A side note: The rooms of CCC are covered in happy, inspirational quotes in curly font that are so very Takoma Park. Just FYI.

15. PERUVIAN CHICKEN @ EL POLLO RICO 

Arlington

I have the fondest memory of the rotisserie my family used to visit in my Italian hometown when I was a child. You could smell the chicken from around the block, and boy, was that intoxicating to me even then. I would stand there, properly mesmerized by the rows of chickens twirling in unison while engulfed by flames behind the counter, savoring in my mind my upcoming Sunday meal. The charchoal-broiled chicken from El Pollo Rico is a closed second to that (sorry, nothing beats childhood memories): tender, juicy, the skin crispy an heavily spiced. Don't miss out on the steak fries or the coleslaw.

16. PHO AND YOUNG COCONUT DRINK @ PHO 75
Arlington

I love restaurants focused on one dish, especially if they make it great as in this Arlington spot. Barring the line outside, you're quickly served a very fragrant soup that I imagine comes from massive vats of beautiful meat broth simmering forever in the kitchen. When I'm in a good mood, I drink a young coconut and mourn my 27 years spent in Italy not knowing that coconut can be soft.

17. 14'' PIZZAS @ LA VILLA
14th Street Heights

More pizza! This is a delivery spot, though. I love this pizza joint because their dough is elastic and irresistible and the topping variety is so much better than most of their competitors. The extra-large pizzas are great, but I find that the 14'' ones have the perfect ratio of cheese to dough. My favorite toppings are portabella mushroom and ricotta, but there are some great others to choose from (caramelized onions, roasted eggplants, etc.).

18. SHRIMP FRITTERS AND BALISONG @ BAD SAINT
Columbia Heights

There's nothing I didn't like from the long list of items ordered during my dinner at Filipino restaurant sensation Bad Saint. But, when I fantasize about ordering a dinner to-go to avoid the long line (can it be done?), I'd ask for someone to throw me a Ukoy, a gigantic fried nest of sweet potatoes and leeks with shrimps trapped inside. It's food that is as beautiful as it is addictive. I'd wash it down with a Balisong, a version of a Manhattan with coconut liqueur that will make you sing. And since you're brave, order the pig tails, too. You won't regret it.

19. TUSCAN BREAKFAST @ HIGHLANDS
14th Street

A sun-drenched neighborhood spot everybody loves. The food is great, but this Tuscan breakfast is amazing. It's composed of a portabella mushroom, eggs of your choice, and a cheesy little brick of yellow polenta that is to die for. And I'm Venetian, so I know polenta. The only caveat is that the polenta is much better when it's freshly made, so you might want to ask what the deal is before you order. Everything else I've been there looks great, especially the chicken and waffles, but I'm still bound to the polenta. It's a genetic call, I guess.

20. WOOD OVEN-ROASTED BONE MARROW @ BLUE DUCK TAVERN 

West End

I went to BDT for the first time when MiniBee was 8 months, and that was the first time I had left the house at dark after his birth. The scintillating lights glowing through my champagne cocktail filled me with happiness, but still couldn't compete with the perfect simplicity of the bone marrow, easily one of my favorite things to eat in the world. I know you can find this elsewhere, but here the bones are chosen for the best amount of jiggly, cloudy marrow, and the salty condiment just exalts the soft butteriness of the dish. Pass the bread.

And if you want my take on pizza in DC, don't miss Dead Chef's Best Pizza in the DC Area.

GUT BACTERIA: A SCI-FI JUNGIAN PERSPECTIVE

As I've previously admitted here, I am obsessed with the new science of gut bacteria. In the past 5+ years, scientists have begun to suggest that our intestinal bacterial flora might have a far more significant influence on our health that anyone could have previously imagined, and its unbalances might contribute to a variety of ailments such as asthma, obesity, and diabetes. Many even argue that gut bacteria may strongly influence the brain in how we think and feel, playing "a crucial role in autism, anxiety, depression, and other disorders", according to this article published in the Atlantic a few months ago.

The idea that gut bacteria might dictate brain function is simply astonishing to me. Microscopic organisms in our bellies telling us how to feel and think? Isn't that amazing? Why have we never thought about this before? After all, it makes perfect sense. There is an average of 100 trillion bacteria living in our gut (yeah, trillions), and it's perfectly reasonable that they would contribute to a lot more than the occasional bout of diarrhea due to shitty takeout food.

Think it about this way: Imagine an alien race decided to solve climate change on Earth while ignoring the role of the humans living on it. I can see them trying to refreeze the Earth's ice caps with their alien technology, while us humans keep driving SUVs all over the place with the AC blasting and melting everything all over again. The lesson is, don't ignore the parasites.

Think about it: You can't spell "colonize" without "colon".

What truly excites me about all this, however, are the sci-fi implications. I see gut bacteria as alien colonists, acting as a shadow government for the brain. It reminds me of The Matrix. We were all fascinated by that movie because it spoke to us about a life under totalitarianism with a collective loss of consciousness, but what if the true puppeteers in our lives were not corporations and secret evil interests, but these microscopic prehistoric beings traveling inside food and hiding in plain sight along the creases and folds of our bowels?

And the situation gets even more complicated, because gut bacteria varies wildly and can be altered by diet, illnesses, and medication. So we could see bacteria as transient populations with their own history and culture and whose fortune is determined by the capricious lifestyle of their hosts. At times they might be blessed by a glass of kefir. Another time they are attacked by a foreign bacterial army living in a poorly-reheated clam chowder. And finally they are get exterminated by an apocalyptic run of antibiotics.

The possibilities are endless, and I could even go for a psychological angle. Because if gut bacteria can really influence our actions and tell our brain to make us depressed or happy, then I'll even argue that gut bacteria might even end up being our collective unconscious, the Jungian idea of a primordial wisdom nested just below our consciousness (How far below? Right under our belly button but above our sphincter, apparently.)

So, that unique, beautiful mark of humanity and its deepest moral compass which many religions call the Soul? Scientists may still be silent about this, but I'm betting it's made of yogurt.

So Dead Chef has a post with a picture of Jung.
This blog can't be that stupid, then, can it?

Netflix suggestion: This whole thing reminds me of one of my favorite episodes of Futurama, titled Parasites Lost, in which Fry eats an egg salad sandwich from a vending machine and gets a worm infestation that makes his body indestructible and his brain super intelligent (please, please, please watch it on Netflix, series 3, episode 2).

MY BEEF WITH EVOLUTION

The Italian theory of evolution

I was born in the mid-70s in Italy, which means my childhood was spent during the economic boom of the 80s (Alpine vacations in winter AND summer) and my adolescence and young adult years in the cozy and undemanding arms of modern technology. Between a game of Simon, a text message, and a Napster download, I never found the time or reason to question whether my body truly represented the latest model of an evolutionary process started 15 million years ago (I'm talking about human evolution). Given how quickly I could recover from hangover, I just assumed it did.

Everything changed after my pregnancy and the birth of MiniBee, experiences that compelled me to test the process of reproduction, which I believe biology still considers the main goal of human existence. My first stance towards the experience was one of great curiosity and excited anticipation, but after only a year that stance had turned to one of bewilderment. I have to say, human reproduction really doesn't seem as well-planned as popular science wants us to believe. The so-called "miracle of birth" seems more to me like a half-assed experiment, an unconvincing and unconvinced attempt at evolutionary success, a random dart thrown drunkenly at the future in an attempt to somehow cope with the harsh demands of natural selection. Perhaps this shouldn't surprise me, but Mother Nature has revealed herself to be just like any other parent: godlike and omnipotent at first, but ultimately just a mom, tired and overwhelmed, with eyes filled with disillusionment. I can't help but to imagine our confrontation.

ME: "Mom, was this really the best plan your could think of? Stuffing women with a 9-lb meatloaf that has to come out of their vaginas?"
MOTHER NATURE: "Oh, stop it. You have no idea how busy I was, and how hard I had to work. Do you think humans are the only ones I have to take care of? You don't hear the lemmings complain, and I have them jumping off a fucking cliff. And remember, your father is never around."
ME: "My father?!?"
MOTHER NATURE: "You humans call him God, which is frankly kind of rich, given that he left me completely alone to take care of you, the house, and all the animals."
ME: "Are you telling me that God exists?!? Where is He now?"
MOTHER NATURE:"I told you a million times already, but you never, ever listen. He left. He made this world in six days, this wonderful world of whales and gemstones and instincts and quantum particles. That was just one of his projects back in the day. Did you think he was going to just magically settle down and help me raise you all? No, of course not! He's too much of an artist to be a parent. Mr Know-It-All needs to create! And I was stupid enough to support him... Now leave me alone. I need a smoke."
ME: "Do you smoke cigarettes?!?"
MOTHER NATURE: "Are you crazy? With those prices? I'll just inhale some of the carbon dioxide you kids have kindly provided me with. Now leave me alone! It's November, for fuck's sake. Shouldn't you start collecting acorns for you den?"
ME: "Are you talking about squirrels?"
MOTHER NATURE: "Whatever."

But I still have lots of questions! Well, I have three actually.

PREGNANCY DIET

Wooly mammoths needs to be cooked to
a 145F temp for safe consumption.

Right from the bat, women are saddled with a punitively long pregnancy during which they are at increased risk for listeria (18 times more likely than general population, according to this). What is the purpose of this immune weakness? Women are growing another human inside their bodies: bone, muscle, brain tissue and whatever else is there. Shouldn't their immune system be at its strongest? And mostly, shouldn't they be able to eat whatever they want, raw or cooked, especially when their strongest instinct is to eat any and everything they see or even imagine?

GIANT BRAIN, STILL USELESS

The human advantage and a tricky storage problem.

Okay, you know this. We humans have developed massive heads to contain our massive brains, and we are born basically premature otherwise we would never make it out of the birth canal from the neck up. This makes human birth more difficult and painful than for most animals, and results in human newborns who can't literally do anything. A foal will stand and walk right after birth, but babies take weeks just to focus enough to see there's more to our faces than a nose. Still, I have to wonder how a species who has to told their tiny babies for one or two years or more was able to survive this long. How is a woman supposed to gather (as in "hunt and gather") with a child constantly attached to her?

HELLO, TIGER! WE'RE HERE!

First they're screaming and now they're drawing on the walls?
When is this day going to end?

Why do children cry so much, and so loudly? This doesn't make any sense to me. Why on earth would an insignificant, tiny, clawless, non-poisonous being call so much attention on itself? If I were a cave woman, hidden in said cave, freaked out and exhausted after birth and waiting for someone to deliver my Paleo dinner, the last thing I want is for my baby to advertise its juicy presence to all saber-tooth predators for miles around. And babies do not scream only in their infancy. In fact, their loudest and most irrational cries happen in toddlerhood and early childhood, when I would think a mother would want to leave her cave to go back to gathering (as in "hunting and gathering"). Why can't babies simply whimper quietly and adorably like newborn kittens? How great that would be?

SCREEN TIME WITH DEAD CHEF

This might not surprise you, but my greatest passion, right after eating and sleeping, is watching movies. (Yes, I really enjoy not moving.)

This week, I present you with ten mini-reviews of movies I watched recently. I'm a work-at-home mother, so forgive the single movie from the current year, but really, this is all I can do.

Please let me know what you think, and enjoy the new series' logo on the right created by Mr Bee himself!

UPSTREAM COLOR (2013)

The best romantic movie involving orchids, worms, pigs, and identity loss you will ever see. I'm completely obsessed with Shane Carruth's imaginative, haunting, and rigorous filmmaking, and you should be too (watch Primer, too, if you haven't already).

WATCH IT ON NETFLIX (BONUS IF YOU'RE PREGNANT LIKE I WAS WHEN I FIRST SAW THIS)

SAN ANDREAS: AN IMAX 3D EXPERIENCE (2015) 

Great to see The Rock in all of his 3D glory, but I really wished the producer had allotted at least $500 for a coherent script rather than filming straight from the preliminary text messages.

WATCH IT ON A PLANE TRIP, IF YOU REALLY REALLY HAVE TO

UNDER THE SKIN (2013)

Scarlett Johansson plays an alien who picks up men on the streets of Scotland for her mysterious alien purposes. Dreamlike, terrifying, and an unconventional and surprising meditation on gender. I get uncomfortable just thinking about it, and it's a good thing.

WATCH IT ON AMAZON WITH YOUR NEW DATE

FORCE MAJEURE (2014)

A family of four is enjoying a ski-vacation in the Alps, but an avalanche throws everything they know about each other and themselves in the air. The über-chill cinematography alone is worth a viewing, but the content is great, and there's some humor, too. Great if you enjoy post-movie discussions and re-evaluating your marriage.

WATCH IT WITH YOUR SPOUSE ON NETFLIX

THE GREAT BEAUTY (2013)

Paolo Sorrentino directs this bitter portrait of contemporary Italian decay in the hopes that the audience has never seen Fellini's La Dolce Vita. And he wins, considering the international acclaim. In my opinion, literally nothing in this self-congratulatory movie has not been said better and with much more depth by Fellini. What's the point?

WATCH LA DOLCE VITA INSTEAD

SNOWPIERCER (2013)

Planet Earth suffered a climatic apocalypse, and the only survivors are found in a self-sustaining train in a perennial circumnavigation of the world. Each wagon belongs to a social strata in the new society. The allegory may be be unsubtle, but it works, and the violence and plot-twists are bold and convincing. Total fun.

WATCH IT ON NETFLIX AND CALL ME WHEN YOU DO

SILENT RUNNING (1972)

I have a vivid memory of myself, elementary-school age, awe-struck and crying as an abandoned lamb at the end of this ecologist sci-fi film. I knew then this was definitely was the best movie I'd ever seen. I watched it again some 30+ years later, and I wished that had staid a memory. The acting, the script, the robots... My God. Never, ever watch again a movie you loved in your childhood without at least three glowing, professional reviews.

DON'T WATCH IT EVER AGAIN

THE LONG GOODBYE (1973)

Raymond Chandler is my spirit author, and Philip Marlowe is my epic hero. Altman does an impressive job in transposing the novel in the 70s while maintaining the romanticism and irony of the original. I loved everything about this movie except the out-of-character final scene that was not in the novel anyway. Oh, and there's Sterling Hayden, too, the best actor in the history of the world.

WATCH IT AFTER READING THE NOVEL

SOUND OF THE MOUNTAIN (1954)

Film version of the Kawabata's novel (and one of my favorite books ever). It's about an aging patriarch in late-40s Japan who deals with the failing of his adult children and his conflicting emotions for his daughter-in-law. The movie is absorbing, but cannot bring itself to contemplate the abyss of fear of looming death that the novel breaks open. On a lighter note, this movie shows the most adorable (and gigantic) baby you will ever see on the screen and possibly in your life.

WATCH IT ON HULU PLUS, AND PLEASE PLEASE READ THE NOVEL

WAYNE'S WORLD (1992)

I'm treating every year since its release like the 50th anniversary, because that's how much I love this movie. A poignant tale of friendship against the pressure of independence, love, and ambition. Alice Cooper makes a cameo appereance. What can I say? They don't make movies like this anymore.

WATCH IT EVERY MONTH FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE

11 ESSENTIAL ITALIAN KITCHEN TOOLS

What are the essential tools that would make your kitchen truly Italian? After months and months of pondering, I'm ready to present you with my final list. It is based mostly on my personal experience as an expat, especially from the first year in Mr Bee's house, where I would search every drawer and cabinet for these little gems before calling my family in tears. Here they are, in all their indispensable glory.

1. MOKA POT

In Italian, la caffettiera. This beautiful, beautiful object appears in many formats in every single Italian household. The moka pot is the best and quickest way to have a strong coffee (just a little less concentrated than regular espresso) any time of the day, and especially in the morning. Just fill the bottom half with water, insert the portafilter, add espresso-grind coffee, and screw on the top half. Place on the stove, and you'll have your coffee in minutes. And, unlike an espresso machine, a moka pot is completely portable and requires minimal maintenance—just rinse in hot water after each use. In my opinion and that of many others, Bialetti makes the best.

2. GAS COOKER TRIVET

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In Italian, la crocetta. This is a godsend if you're using a smaller moka pot on a gas cooker. It's a support to keep the moka pot in place on larger gas burners. It usually starts out much shinier than the one in the picture, which is by now well oxidated.

3. FINE CHEESE GRATER

In Italian, la grattugia. If you need to grate Parmigiano or Pecorino for your pasta—and it's completely acceptable to do it right at the table before you eat—you need this. The small holes and the rounded surface allows you to grate the cheese in fine and soft ribbons, so that it starts melting immediately on your dish in all its salty and creamy goodness. The large-holed cheese grater that you use to shred cheese is not popular in Italy, where I believe it's only used for vegetables. I use this small grater from Ikea, but in Italy people use a larger one.

4. CHEESE SERVER

In Italian, la formaggiera. When you're not grating cheese straight on your plate, you can use a cheese server, great for formal dinners but definitely used everyday on the traditional Italian table. It needs to be filled with fresh Parmigiano, and people pass it along and sprinkle one or two teaspoons of cheese on their pasta. When I was younger, my grandparents would ask me to grate a small mountain of cheese on a plate and then pour it in the server in time for lunch. This one is from Alessi.

5. CRUMB SWEEPER

In Italian, il raccoglibriciole. In my opinion, nothing else encapsulates Italy more than this plastic brush designed to clean up your tablecloth from breadcrumbs after a meal. The popularity of this object means two things: that Italians like to eat at a table covered with proper tablecloth, and that they are going to have bread with whatever they're eating. After over ten years in the United States, I wonder whether Italians are keeping up with their social eating and bread dependency. I really hope so.

6. PASTA MACHINE

In Italian, la macchina per la pasta. I'm positive that Italians today do not make homemade pasta as often as their grandparents. However, this is a beautiful object that everybody who loves cooking should have. There are few things more satisfying than cranking your pasta machine on a floured table (and now that I have fresh pasta on my mind, I can't really think of any). Mine is a gorgeous red Imperia. Ask for one for you birthday.

7. PASTA CUTTER

In Italian, la rotella. If you own a pasta machine, then you cannot forgo the pasta cutter. It's perfect to cut ravioli, and of course you can also use it as pastry cutter for all your pies and quiches. Mine belonged to my maternal grandmother, and it's light, sturdy, and precise. I also love the sweet rattling sound it makes as it cuts through the dough. So satisfying.

8. DOUBLE-HANDLE MEZZALUNA

In Italian, mezzaluna ("half moon"). I was genuinely surprised that this was not a staple of American kitchens, too. It's perfect to chop herbs and nuts. Just rock it side to side, occasionally sweeping everything back to center for another round of chopping. You can object that a knife would be quicker, but that's true only if you have good knife skills (I don't). Plus, you'd be really missing out on all the fun, and I can't condone that.

9. RICER

In Italian, lo schiacciapatate. This is basically a gigantic garlic press for vegetables, and especially potatoes, that gives you the creamiest, fluffiest ribbons of potato you can ever dream of. Use a ricer to make puré, the (slightly) lighter and more elegant version of mashed potatoes, but also potato gnocchi, and my favorite fancy ice-cream creation: spaghetti ice cream.

10. CITRUS SQUEEZER

In Italian, lo spremiagrumi. In winter, mothers all over Italy spend the best part of their day squeezing juicy Sicilian oranges for their little ones, because you know, vitamin C. And let me tell you, you really get to respect your mother when you see her exerting tremendous force on a tiny squeezer to obtain even the last drop of orange for your morning breakfast. Small and easy to clean, it's an Italian must-have.

11. SOUP PLATES

In Italian, i piatti fondi. Don't be fooled by their English name, the piatto fondo is not only for soups. Rather, it is the plate where the first course, or primo, is served. On a classic Italian table, you eat your pasta, soup, or rice dish on the soup plate, and then your second course on a dinner plate. I was dumbfounded when I came to the United States and discovered you only use dinner plates for pasta. The soup plate is the perfect vessel so that your primo feels neither too crudely exposed nor too infantilized. (Makes sense, right?) Luckily, my MIL gifted me a set of 6 soup plates so I can feel a little better when I get a little homesick and make myself a megaportion of ravioli.

SLOW FOOD/FAST COFFEE

Last year, my sister visited from Italy, and I took her to a beloved neighborhood coffee place. We placed our order for two espressos, and then I stood back to analyze the various stages of shock she was bound to experience. The reason? The espresso making took FOREVER. My sister stared in increasing disbelief as the barista took all the time in the world to go through the 7 Steps of modern American artisanal espresso-making:

1. Pour ground coffee into the handle in atomic increments.
2. Press the coffee down with complete concentration in carefully-applied 30-lb thrusts.
3. Polish the border of the handle until it shines, completely speckless.
4. Let the coffee drip into the cup with monastic patience.
5. Examine the espresso closely for possible flaws that would nullify the process.
6. Send a silent prayer to the coffee gods to ensure future blessing.
7. Place the finished espressos on the counter for the costumer to finally enjoy. (Avoid eye contact.)

You know what it's like: It took at least 10 minutes from start to finish. My sister looked at me, her brown, life-filled Italian eyes wide open, and said, "We need to open our espresso bar. We'll be millionaires!"

See, espresso in Italy (we call it coffee) is actually a very quick experience. Even in the nicest torrefazioni (cafes where coffee is roasted and served), it might take a minute at most for a perfect espresso to appear in front of you after your order. It's not only that Italians barista are quick, it's that they have to be. We Italians are physically and culturally addicted to coffee and to its almost instantaneous kick, so much that we don't even care about sitting down at a coffee bar. We need our espresso, and we need it NOW. That's why at home we use the little stovetop moka, because it produces a concentrated coffee in a matter of minutes.

Anyway, my sister thought Americans would love to have their coffee just as fast. She thought, arent' they addicted, too? Well, as much as her fantasy of opening an espresso bar appealed to me, I knew it would never work in America. Nobody cares about a fast espresso here. Instead, a carefully-poured espresso is popular because it reminds American of the artistry and tradition of coffee. An express espresso would not have the same charm.

So I started thinking, and I realized there is a major difference between American and Italian approach to food and coffee that I summarized in this handy infographic:

Italians will happily wait 20 to 30 minutes for the appetizers to show up and would never dream of having lunch in the car, but need their espresso right away, preferably standing up, and five minutes later they're already on their way. In Italy, a barista is as swift and invisible as a ghostly apparition, seen only with the corner of your eye.

Who is right, then? Well, Italians, of course. We're always right on food. But I will concede that slow coffee has its charms. I very much appreciate the dedication that American baristas are giving to our home staple, and I am definitely thankful to them for taking espresso seriously enough to transform it from a bitter soup to a creamy deliciousness that is often just as good as the original. And as soon as you get addicted as Italians are, I know you'll learn to make it quick. See you on the other side.

IS HOME COOKING ANTI-FEMINIST? AN ITALIAN PERSPECTIVE

At the end of last year there was a resurgence of articles questioning the feminist or anti-feminist nature of home cooking. The debate is not new, but it flared up in response to the publication of "The Joy of Cooking?" (the article is not longer available for free, so buy it here or read about it here), an article by three sociologists from North Carolina State University that was based on their interviews with 150 black, white, and Latina mothers and on over 250 hours of observation of 12 working-class mothers dealing with cooking and family life.

The article was quite discouraging for those who believe America should embrace home cooking in the name of public health and a lesser environmental impact. What emerged from it is that mothers, even when they hold full-time jobs, are still the ones saddled with cooking and all its implications, from meal planning to grocery shopping, from making the time for cooking to cleaning afterwards. To make matters worse, the onerous home-cooked meal stands a good chance of being rejected by the kids AND the husband, so the whole ordeal might end up in a maddening waste of time, energy, and money. The mothers' uphill battle is not only confined within their homes: Junk food is advertised everywhere and easily available, and school cafeterias most often serve just that (it reminded me of a comment in the movie Fed Up, defining some schools today as "7-11's with books"), so convincing their children to start eating healthy, home-cooked meals becomes a near impossible task.

To be fair, the article never uses the terms "feminist" or "anti-feminist" to define the problem, but much of the debate that sparked from it posed that very question. Is home-cooking feminist? The debate intrigued me. I've often heard Italian mothers complain that they have to do all the cooking, but I had never seen the blame being put on home cooking. In fact, home cooking is still upheld as one of the best things Italians have accomplished, and I've always agreed. But should I? I started thinking about my Italian experience with home cooking, about its rituals, meaning, and consequences on Italian family life. As you may already know, food in Italy is pretty much sacred, and most Italians are very educated (and opinionated) about nutrition. We have a great, incredibly varied cuisine that spans from the very simple to the refined, from the perfectly healthy to the obscenely sweet and/or fat. Is cooking for Italian women a source joy, a necessary chore, or just a tool of oppression? I decided to talk a little bit about food culture and home cooking in Italy to see if it could help shed some light on the American cooking conundrum.

The following considerations come from my personal experience (I do not work full time at the moment, but I was raised by a mother who did) and that of a few Italian female friends I spoke to who were raised by full-time working parents or are working mothers themselves.

HOME COOKING IN ITALY

How Do Italians View Food? 

Of course you know this, but I have to say it: Italy is a food-centric nation. Italian cuisine is exceptionally varied and relies on a fantastic quantity of amazing produce for each season. It is also worth remembering that Italians' rural past is just a couple of generations away. Almost all Italians have strong connections to people growing produce or raising livestock, be it in their family or in or around the place they live in. In my personal experience, even though I grew up in the city with two full-time working parents, my family would often stay at my grandfather's home in Tuscany, which had a small farm right behind it where my sister and I would pick fresh fruit and eggs, help with the animals, and occasionally be given the chance to milk a cow.

How Does Home Cooking Work in Italy? 

I would say the vast majority of families eat mostly home-cooked meals during the week, although, compared to previous generations, they tend to prepare easier and quicker meals (home-made pasta is a treat to make once in a while) and eat out more than in the past. Cooking skills are passed on from generation to generation, and even if you were not interested in cooking or your parents were less insistent on your learning (that would be me), Italy as a whole is permeated by a constant conversation about food and its preparation. You cannot be immune to that information: You are going to pick up at least the basic techniques, recommended ingredients and combinations, meal planning ideas, nutritional information, etc.

Who Cooks? 

Mostly women. Men in my family did grocery shopping and some of the cooking, but I know that was not the norm among my acquaintances. I have to be honest about this: Italian culture is still deeply sexist, and men are not expected to provide any help in the kitchen. In fact, some of my male friends grew up never once helping around the house whereas their sisters were absolutely expected to. Italian men may cook for their own pleasure or on special occasions, but it's not common to see them actively participating in every aspect of meal planning, preparation, and cleanup. I know the situation has evolved, but we can't talk about equality yet.

Is it easy to eat healthy food in Italy? 

Yes, and the reason is simple: Produce is still the cheapest option in Italy. Even in the expensive Northeast where I come from, you can subscribe to a CSA to provide you with organic produce for a family of four for 7 euros a week. Non-organic produce is even cheaper and readily available in markets.

How Do People Shop for Groceries in Italy?

Today many Italians might visit a supermarket once a week like Americans, but up to the 1990s (when big distribution really took off in Italy) the situation was different. Italian cities and towns were still densely packed with small specialized grocery stores where people could by quality local food easily and cheaply. Small stores disseminated all over the cities made for frequent but quick visits that allowed for a pantry populated with fresh food. Even though today many of the small grocery stores have closed, especially in the North, people still tend to have quick and easy access to a wide variety of foods in their neighborhoods and towns.

Do Italian Children Eat Everything? 

No, they don't. Some of them do, but just as in the United States, many children have very definite preferences and aversions that need to be defended at all costs. Yet, junk food in Italy is much less available compared to the United States, and society expectations on children's diets are higher (Italian restaurants do not serve kids meals, except for smaller individual pizzas), so I think Italian children tend to grow up appreciating a wider variety of foods.

What Food is Served in Italian Schools? 

There might be some debate about accessibility and quality of Italian school cafeterias, which are only present in preschool and elementary school (from middle school onwards, Italian kids are mostly home for lunch), but food options in school cafeterias are much healthier than in the United States. It's unthinkable for a school to offer fast-food items to children, and desserts are generally absent (fruit tends to end a meal). Mealtime in Italian school is seen more and more as an opportunity to teach children about healthy behaviors. It doesn't work all the time, but at least the school cafeteria is not sabotaging the parents' efforts.

What's the general opinion about junk food? 

Italians have always had a strong stance against processed food, so fast-food never really took off in Italy like it did in the United States. I actually remember the uproar when the first McDonald's opened in my town in the early 1990s: Even as a teen willing to try the greasiest of foods, I knew very well that was unhealthy and could never become a staple in my diet. Also, a McDonald's meal was still much more expensive than better-quality food made at home, so the appeal was simply not there. I would say that, for Italians, junk food is a guilty pleasure to be enjoyed in moderation, but hardly a meal-replacement option to be consumed several times per month (this survey suggests that about 39% of Italians practically never eat at fast-food restaurants).

My conclusion 

So this is it. I offer no solutions, no great idea for steering America back towards home-cooking, and especially on how to help working American and Italian women lessen their burden. And yet... Even though Italy is a sorry mess of a country, economically and morally, I do think that the Italian experience might have something to teach us at least in terms of availability (both economic and physical) and a proud culture of healthy eating.

Personally, I think cooking is a wonderful skill. I know, I have a food blog, so of course I'd say that. But I also really believe there's something magical about the way cooking can make us healthier, happier and bring us together. Good ingredients, a touch creativity, and a table with family and friends to celebrate a great day or to gather in silence after a horrible one. It is a gift of health, human connection, and time. And also, there are so many practical skills we can learn and share with our kids, and home cooking is one of the easiest to tackle.

If I think about the gender implications of home cooking, I wouldn't say that home cooking is in itself anti-feminist but that serious issues of gender inequity surround and complicate the matter. In fact, as I reread the original article, I have a nagging feeling that one real problem was left unexplored. I never see fathers questioned about their role in all of this. Once again, this looks to me like it's being presented as a women's issue rather than a family issue. Sure we should indict an economic system and a food culture that pushes junk food before healthy food, but why are fathers never mentioned, never asked to participate? Home cooking can greatly contribute to improve the health of the Italian families, but we can't expect mothers to do all the work.