Check me out here as well!

Lemons and Thyme is getting better everyday! Come take a look  :

http://lemonsandthyme.blogspot.com/

Love, Inspiration and Health to you all
Joy

Lemons and Thyme: Lemony Goodness

A separate adventure, a streamlined sleek look, weekly, delicious.

Check out the very first post, recipe and cannot wait to keep the good stuff coming!

Lemons and Thyme: Lemony Goodness: "For my 26th Birthday, I opted for a rich lemon curd tart. The flaky crust is accented with toasted almonds. The rich lemon filling is lusci..."

O is for Operation Oblivion.

These are my feet. Were my feet. About a 17 days ago. In the sand of the Pacific is where my feet seem to look the happiest. Although, right now any sea will do just fine. Having said that, this is also the last picture of the original gnarly Joy feet.
My left foot remains, unhindered by knife and thread at the moment. My right however, well, lets just say its had better days. Although, fingers crossed, it will be having better days in the future because of the removal and rearrangement of some bones and tendons.

Having surgery for the first time puts a lot of things in perspective. Also, gives me a multitude of time to contemplate Life.
Great.
Having too much time to do this is always causes me some emotional upheaval. If I get all tangled up in the big mess of, 'what and I going to do with my life' thoughts I end up making rash decisions. Apply irrationally to programs I can't get into. Impulse buy things on the internet or, my new thing,  crutching around in circles to tire me out. Kind of like a child. Playing with it in order to help tire them, until they are so sleepy you have to put them into their PJ's at night. I am now purposefully treating myself like a 4 year old.

Great.
I have all this ambition and drive. A steaming pot of pent up energy and compulsion to create. I now have no where to channel any of that. Firstly, I cannot stand up on my left foot for at the most 10 minutes, without my right foot throbbing like a pulsating orb in a science fiction movie. Subsequently making my toes look like little vienna sausages. Secondly, because my creativity is normally channeled though food, cooking and the use of my hands while standing on my feet, well, all of that has come to a jarring hault.
Soon, I know, I will be able to stand, able to do, able to create. But right now, all I feel is restless.
Additionally, painkillers aren't super helpful for the creative process. I take that back, I guess they are in some ways, but not when you can't stand up (on both feet) and instantly spring into creativity. My opinions and mind flow much more freely than normal (that's for sure) when taking them, but otherwise, I'm really just swirling from thought to thought.

I am easily side tracked. For example, I am reading Blood, Bones and Butter by Gabrielle Hamilton, which is fantastic throughout, as I am reaching its end. I am enjoying every page and relate to her voice and style of prose. Read it.
So I am focused in, reading intently, and she begins to describe watching Andre Soltner, a chef, whom I had the honor of interacting with a few times at my recent job, make a beautifully delicate, perfectly soft omelet at her stove. I mark my page, and pick up my computer and look up how to make a perfect French Omelet. Although I have seen Jacques Pepin make one, even though I should know how to do it well, and I have tried, but never been adequately judged on its result; so then from there I get side tracked by an article about organic, free range eggs and misleading labeling, but I turn to thinking about buying chickens, and how to raise them humanely; at which point I go out in the garden and stare at the flowers and vegetables my mom planted; I begin to think about what I could make with the huge leaves from the red cabbage, if they would be bitter, if I could juice them and make pasta from their vibrant deep purple red, then and my foot starts to throb distractingly. I crutch back inside nearly falling up the steps, and see on the counter an apple; wash it, carry it under my chin back to my room where I elevate my foot and realize that 5 hours have gone by since I first picked up the book. Now I'm back in my room, and can't hardly remember why I had gone outside in the first place. Chickens? Take another pain killer realizing that I needed to do so an hour before hand, and go through another very similar sort of process of distraction, interest and confusion.

Crimini Mushrooms for Garnish. Earthy, firm, fantastic.

Pain, quite distracting. Staring at toes lack of movement. Distracting.

Never the less. I wrote a 'real' post about Oatmeal for my O entry, which I will post(haste). But, since I could barely form a well structured sentence when I first began writing said post, it needs to be edited a little further, perfected a little more, and  become a polished gem of fun fiber facts. Unlike this post,which, I send out into you, great internet universe, knowing full well this is a rant of grand proportion. But just wanted to fill you in on the goings on. Because right now, I could ramble for hours.

N is for Now Introducing Spring!

Just a few little teases of Spring from the Euclid Ave. garden taken March 29th 2011.

Apricot Tree Leaves

Budding White Rinnuculla

Beautiful Blue Lillies

Terribly Sweet Tangerines

Lovely Pink Blossums on our Pretty Peach Tree

Sprouting Rainbow Swiss Chard

Delightful Little Daisies

Cruciferous Red Cabbage

Lambs Tongue Lettuce

Rosey Magenta Rinnuculla

Fantastically Fragrant Freesia

The Whole Bloomy Garden

M is for Masterpiece.

There is a song by Joni Mitchell, and I have heard it countless times. In her album, Miles of Aisles which is a live album, she talks to the audience briefly about the difference between the performing arts and being, for example a painter, she goes on to state, that a painter can paint a painting, and it will live on forever as such, in an attic, on a wall in a museum, where ever, but it exists as it is. She goes onto say, and I quote "you know, nobody ever said to Van Gogh, you know, paint 'A Starry Night' again man..."(which she says in the most stoney, lackadaisical and poignant kind of way) I always loved that, thinking to myself, not knowing who Van Gogh was yet, or what kind of masterpiece a starry night actually was, but I remember thinking, how being a performing artist, rather than an artist by trade is rather different. On one hand, I am sure she had been asked by someone, you know, sing 'Circle Game' again man. And I know that I have certainly been asked, you know, make that pasta with the vegetables again man.
There certainly is a difference, and when I think about it, being a chef is much like being a performing artist. We are given obstacles to success, we work against the odds, which are many, we endure thousands of hours on our feet, we have to work with products that sometimes aren't up to our standards, feed people because we find it satisfying not because it pays the bills, much like a musician or a thespian. We aim to please. We aim to learn, and if you are really an artist, one day, you will gain some recognition for all those efforts. Although we don't use guitars, pianos, or for that matter oil paints or canvas, we do have knives, fire and butter.

When I was young I can remember listing to Joni Mitchell's voice through the stereo in our car, her guitar in our living room or at the beach from a boom-box. I remember mostly though, that quote. I wonder, sometimes how those little things that a person hears as a child can foster a little gem inside them. As we grow, that gem grows too. The idea of creating something which can be improved upon, or given a different setting be better or worse, concepts and of course inspiration. Who knows. But for me its these little connections, which we can make to our childhood, that can help steer us into the directions that can maintain what we truly strive for, and with that our future can finally become just a little clearer.

Although I am not Van Gogh or Joni Mitchell, I still want to have someone say to me one day, ya know, feed me that thing I love that you make again man. And just like 'A Starry Night' or Joni's 'Circle Game' everyday, I can strive for a masterpiece. Which will always make me smile.

L is for Luscious and Luxurious, also known as Gelato

5 Gelato's in Sorrento - Discovery of best combination ever:
Chocolate Rum and Tiramisu. 

Sadistically, I purchased an Ice Cream maker. Mine actually touts itself as a 'frozen yogurt' maker as well, but lets all be honest, why make frozen yogurt when you can make Gelato! Lovely, luscious, luxurious, positively perfect gelato. It was nothing but agony while in Italy to walk past gelateria after gelateria. The oozy, chewy, mouthwateringly spectacular flavors beckoned every second of the day when the temperatures would rise above the 40's.  A personal favorite was the Chocolate Rum Gelato. The kind of ice cream you need to be alone with.
So, while I have been desperately trying to loose the weight that I have gained from travels abroad, cold weather woes here on the east coast and lack of exercise due to exhaustive 60+ hour week work efforts, I bought an ice cream maker? Counterintuitive much. Yes, yes I am.

My Caramel Gelato at FCI.

I've stumbled into a new realm of just doing whatever I want, and one day, in January, I wanted an ice cream maker. So now, I proudly can say I have made some pretty spectacular creations. She of course is named Macchina Meravigliosa which basically means 'wonderful machine' in Italian, but like most words, doesn't it sound better in Italian? So my little 2 quart modern miracle and I have been churning out some killer flavors for just under two months now.
Experiments have included herb infusions, thick rich caramels, blue agave, unique spices, soy milk, house made blueberry syrups as well as different kinds of milks, creams and eggs (all organic), and just today we took goats milk for a test run.

Josh and the Deep Dark Chocolate Gelato. 

A short back story of my road to todays creation: Last Monday was Black Monday, also know as Greeting Card Day, also known as Valentine's Day. Too my utter surprise and delight, I received a dozen beautiful red roses from a good friend of mine and the smell has been wafting around the apartment this entire week. Stricken with a toothache I haven't been in the cold-food-mood so, when I finally got a prescription for some antibiotics, and started to feel a bit better, I got to thinking about Goats Milk Gelato. I thought, what would be a good combo, could it just stand on its own, also in general what the difference in texture would be, etc. etc. So I had been marinating the idea for a bit of time. I did some research, Goat's Milk, tangier than Cow's milk is higher in fat, and higher in saturated fat. It contains more probiotics than cow's milk, and also has a more complete protein profile, also it contains more calcium per glass than cow's milk. So, knowing these things, I expect it to act basically the same way.

Roses in a makeshift wine bottle vase

This weekend, while strolling the aisles of Whole Foods on Houston, I scanned the spices, produce and diary sections for inspiration. Did you know that they do not carry lavender?! First plan, foiled. Second plan, was do maybe steep some star anise, but I feared it would over whelm the flavor. Third I was going to do a rich nutmeg gelato, but, my friend whom was enduring my indecision suggested Rose Water. Bowing to his genius, I accepted the concept, and searched out the essence. (Of course upon finding it I also bought a rose candle and rose balm, because 'impulse buy' is my new middle name.)

 Today, I got to work. While smelling, tasting and retesting for accuracy of flavor, it hit me. Astha.  Ashta is a curdled cream from the middle east, specifically Lebanon, and at the restaurant I spent the majority of my early 20's working at served the most lovely Ashta Ice Cream! Some found it an acquired taste, I thought it was complex and wonderful. It is quite amazing how smells, taste and flavor really help a person recall memories so vividly.

In any case, in light and leu of this past Valentines Day, I have embraced with open arms the essence of Rose. I think I'd like my scoop with a crisp shortbread cookie or slowly melting on top of a warm piece of bing cherry pie. Either way, it is simply luxe.

Goat Milk Rose Water Gelato
Yields : 1 1/2 quarts

500 ml (2 cups) Whole Milk Organic Goat's Milk
500 ml (2 cups) Organic Half and Half
120 ml (1/2 cup) Rose Water
Pinch Sea Salt
6 Large Organic Egg Yolks
200 g (1 cups) Organic Evaporated Cane Juice (Sugar)

*Have Ready before starting this process: A large bowl with ice and water (ice water bath), and bowl on top of that, and a fine mesh strainer over the empty bowl in which to strain the gelato base into.

1. In a Large sauce pan, over low heat, combine goats milk, half and half, rose water and salt together, do not let boil. Just bring to a near scald.
2. Meanwhile, separate eggs, reserve whites for other use. (I like to make egg white omelets with them, but they keep covered and refrigerated for at least a week)
3. Whisk the yolks together, slowly add the sugar to the yolks. If you add it took quickly, you might 'burn' the yolks, so add it slowly and whisk until light yellow and thick.
4. When milk and cream mixture is hot, slowly add 1/2 cup to the egg yolk and sugar mixture, whisking constantly. This method is called tempering, as to not cook the yolks, but get them used to the temperature they are going to be introduced to.
5. Add this mixture to saucepan all at once, whisking constantly again. Bring entire mixture to 177-179 degrees Fahrenheit (80-81 degrees Celsius), which is essentially a Creme Anglaise. This mixture will look thicker, not curdled, and will coat the back of a wooden spoon. If you run your finger down the spoon, the line from your finger should remain.
6. Once the mixture is ready, stain it into the prepared bowl on the ice bath.
7. Chill this mixture until cold to the touch.

Thick, creamy, rich, luscious and slightly tangy gelato churning.

8. Pour into prepared ice cream maker (i.e. frozen churning bowl, clean, ready, etc.) And churn as long as the manufacturers instructions require. Mine took about 30 minutes, other may be shorter of longer.
The consistency should be very thick.
9. Put into containers, and freeze, at least 1 hour, or until you are ready to enjoy it!

K is for Kudos to Kale and a Kaleidoscopic Future.

Positano, Italia (Campania) - October 2010

Ok.
So, have you been to a place where you wished could be your reality, everyday? Have you lived a life, which you wish you  could continue to live? Have you had fantasies of both, simultaneously? Did you get to have them fulfilled?

I recently returned from a span of my life where I had the extreme privilege to experience all of the above. And now, the extreme devastation of not having them currently, although 'tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all ' right?

This will be my greatest life recommendation: do it. Whatever it is you are thinking of doing, do it. Whatever age you find yourself at, whatever situation you are in now, if you haven't had this, go get your mind blown, considerably, and mostly by travel. From what I got to experience, it goes by far to quickly, and then your back, in reality; of work, stress, money, lack of time, and then you don't feel like the chance is available so soon again.
So, go get your socks rocked. By the world; by the air, the sky, the sea and the earth. Go eat the food of a grandmother and go taste the salt from the earth. Have stress in finding your train in a foreign language and have anxiousness of not knowing where to go next. Have the sand of the sea between your toes and the smell of spaghetti on your hands. Get your neck crinkled from having to look up all the time and wonder 'how did I get this lucky' and 'wow, why is the sky so blue here?'
It's out there, it's waiting. It wants to be seen, it wants to be treaded upon and spread you thin. Make you small. Make you emotional. Make you grow, exponentially.

Sorrento, Italia (Campania) - October 2010

And now I am back. Here in New York, as a new student of the world and not of anything specific, which I kind of like. Mostly though, I am a student, everyday, of cuisine. Today I ate an amazing salad of sunchoke, mushroom, raddiccio and pecorino. Just those simple ingredients were able to create a experience for me that brought me back to eating a small dish of roasted fresh porcini's from a garden in Reggio-Emilia.

Daily I am wrenched back to recognizing how lucky I was, and trust me, I soaked up every bit of lucky I could absorb. I got to taste and smell and touch and experience what it is to be 'Italian'. What it is to live in Europe. Ultimately, I am brought back to the quiet on the sea, the wind in my hair and the ease of a walk. I know how good life can be, and I know what pace to live my life now. Rushing and running? Neither are for me. Ease, is my new mantra, breath is my step.
Try it.

Isola Capri , Anacapri, Italia - October 2010

Now, with this kind of kaleidoscopic future I have created for myself, this inconstant, polychromatic, and ultimately fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of attitude, I'd like to take a second to talk about Kale, and why, oh why, I love it so. First, Kale, raw, has only 33 calories in a cup (chopped), 2 grams of protein and 1 gram of fiber. That, is one amazing green, because not only does one cup house all of that protein power, but it also is an AMAZING source of  Vitamin C, Vitamin A and Vitamin K. K being a vitamin not found so plentiful in foods, so its important to get it where you can, while you can. It is the vitamin which helps to clot your blood. Sound essential? Uh, yeah. Not only that, but it can prove to be considerably rich in calcium and 2 other super powerful antioxidants, lutein and zeaxanthin. So eating this delicious, hearty and healthy green can lower your chances of DNA damage, i.e. cancer causing agents.

I have seen it being served up all over Manhattan/Brooklyn and the like and I couldn't be more on the band wagon. I see it on a menu, I usually order it. So, in regards to living your life with gusto, doing what feels so right, making your heart, body and mind happy, eat some kale and buy a plane ticket to the place of your dreams and don't look back. You'll be first healthier, and then happier, for it.
In the meantime (while your saving up that cash, or putting yourself into debt, like me!):
Try this simple kale recipe from a blogger which, I think, knows a thing or two about her greens:
Raw Tuscan Kale Salad - 101 Cookbooks

Crepe in the 5th Arrondissement, Paris, France - Delicious 

First of all, Cavolo Nero is unreal delicious, also called dinosaur kale, and this particular recipe will always remind me of eating the fresh leaves from a garden in Italy.
(More of my recipes to come... I just, really really love this one,because it is hard to improve upon it, maybe an anchovy melted into the olive oil in the dressing... also there is a REAL good one in the Tartine Bakery book, by Chef Ignacio Mattos.)
Enjoy!

J is for Just Plum forgot!

Saint Peters Basilica.
I think the Roman's and the Church had some money back in the day.
Gorgeous. 

Ciao tutti! (Hi everyone!)
I am alive, sorta.

I just realized that in under a month will be the 1 year anniversary of  The Cauliflower Lollipop!
How much this little "nutrition and food" based blog has grown. Well actually, not as much as this cultivator had hoped. I'm guessing blogs are a little like children. You must put in all of your effort to reap any rewards. So, my one year blog resolution: put in more effort. Thats that. Get ready to be bogged down, with blogness (probably not, I'm working 6 days a week 10 hour days currently. One of which is a 14 hour day, Sunday. Apparently even though this country is Catholic no rest for the weary in the kitchen on Sunday's, so maybe, you will only get mildly blogged. More like, a poco blogged).

Isla d'Elba on the beach of Sant 'Andrea. Wonderful. 

J is the letter for the post. Which can represent alot of things. The last J posting representing the many words I could conjure that began with J. This time, in a few short words, I will try to express what this J(oy) has been up to in the past few months, here in Italy.
Jealous yet? Aspeta (wait...)

I have traveled back and forth, up and down (as much as I can) on my days off. I have darted from Milian to Parma, to Cinque Terre, up to Torino. Down to Siena, and even further down to Isla D'Elba, to Florence, Peasaro and Ancona, to the Northern Veneto and Tuscan coast, Bolonga and Reggio nell'Emilia (where I currently live) Of course, Roma, just last weekend.

Tuna, cured in Olive oil from Sardegna, with picked Tropea
Onions, fennel, sprouts, lemon vinegrette... it goes on and on.

Eating, tasting, re-tasting (for quality control, this does not get old) my fair share of food. Cheese has taken my heart and gone off in a full sprint. Particularly fresh, or semi aged goat cheeses. Although, Castelmango, mamma mia. But, if you ever get a chance to come here, you have to go to region they make the cheese. Buy Burrata in Apulia, or Mozzarella di Bufula in Campania. It will be fresher the closer you are to the producer. As far as your life, consider it changed. No joke. The sweet smell of fresh cream and a taste as if kissed by milky gods.

On our many mini vacations I have had the privilege to dip into the Mediterranean Sea. Crystal blue, warm and justifiably one of the best bodies of water I have ever been in.  Isla d'Elba is a world all its own; green and lush, wild like Kawai, warm and sun ripened, Tuscan, but not quite so. Just go.

Lunch at the most amazing man's home in Romanga.
Later a cheesehole (Fossa) lesson. 

The Adriatic Coast where Le Marche meets the sea, Peasaro, Fanno and Ancona remind me a bit of the beaches of Rhode Island, a little rough around the edges, although lovely and different in their unique simplicity. There was one area we found which housed little beach "caves" in the mountain side. Families and friends gathered to play cards, swim, read and relax. My friends and I, to rejuvenate and regroup after long days at school.


Which brings me to school, if I could describe ALMA it would mostly be describing the outstanding professors. I know in my last post I touched upon them, but leaving for stage was hard because I wasn't going to wake up saying  "Alright, I have Bentley today, awesome" or "good, kitchen with Bruno, region Campania, score" sometimes "wine at 9:30 AM, gotta keep sharp for Matteo" and even, "Ok, Chef Paolo is teaching today, should be interesting..." and it was. Everyday was interesting. Everyday I learned something new, something brilliant and something worlds larger than myself.

Couches set up on the hill side in the Northern Veneto.

We would ride our bikes through the warm, thick air in the  Pianura Padana, the Po River Valley, down the road to our castle. While changing attempt to not begin sweating (some of my classmates referred to this time as suiting up for a game, as if changing into uniforms was the build up to a battle against the odds), grab an espresso and await the fate of the day. Will it be a tall hat day, a no apron day, a central kitchen day or a standing in the kitchen day. 


Summer here can be fondly thought of as infernal, since air conditioning is hard to come by, and the ALMA's remained broken for the 2 months we were attending. Sometimes we would see attempts being made to fix it, holes dug all over the grounds, only to be filled a few days later. It was assumed they were looking for some kind of electrical line. Nonetheless, the weather is similar to New York in the humidity level as well as temperature. Some days swelled to 1oo's (or above 40 Celsius as we can now recall it) but most of the time the Demo room and kitchen still remained a positive learning environment. Well, for me. 


We were able to share with each other. We talked, socialized, exchanged and became a small tight little family. Sometimes a little too tight, and just like all families, some had a fair share of squables. Although, most family arguments do not end in bus rides to Tuscany at 6 in the morning the following day to a winery and goat cheese farm with your Chef and a group of misfit American Chefs (also sanz air conditioning). 

Fresh Goat Cheeses from Santa Margarita Farms between Firenze
and Siena. ALL of them phenomenal. I have notes
on each one.  

But looking back now, having been away from school, from Colorno, from the little-tribe-that-could at ALMA Due, for only a month, I miss it. I knew I would. I miss coming home to a space bigger than a hotel room. I miss having my own stove, pots and pans. I miss the idea that I could walk down stairs and see friends  sitting on a couch eating chicken salad out of large pasta pots watching a pirated copy of Hot Tub Time Machine which had been sent in a box also including Frank's hot sauce (a highlight moment I must say). Upon seeing this, I would think nothing more to my self than 'I love those guys'. I miss that our 'dorms' fostered a profound sense of familiarity for me. Who knew I would miss Colorno?  Mostly, though, I miss my friends. 

Sun setting amongst Processo Vines in Valdobbiandene before
the feast of a lifetime. 

There are a plethora of memories I can take away from this, and I cannot wait to share them with you. Like, for example, how in Italy 'music' consists of 3 people on the radio, Madonna, Michael Jackson and Lady Gaga. Everyone in the kitchen waders about humming the tunes, pretending to know the lyrics to the songs and singing random giberish. Hilarious. Sometimes there is some Sting and Seal, but otherwise, solo Jackson and Gaga. Alejandro is mos-def a top fav for Italia. 

An obelisk in Roma, there are hundreds. 

More to come, but I have work in 40 minutes. Yesterday I deboned 5 rabbits, which is not an easy feat, amongst other tasks. Today I will cut the Zucca Cheesecake I made into little circles for our Piccola Pasticceria. 
I will work for 10 hours, standing the entire time, in my sweat. Toil. 
Attempt to speak Italian (which every day I get better at surprisingly), pretend to understand most of it, but actually understand quite a bit. 
Get in the weeds, and then get out of the weeds. Clean up, sweep, mop, eat delicious bread my chef makes.  
Feel like and outsider, and have a 16 year old Sicilian kid tell me what to do(at which point I have to control my eye rolling), and respond to him sarcastically in English (which he cannot understand) and love it. 


Must love it. And I do. I want this so badly.

Tuscan sand and the Mediterranean Sea. 

Check back for more quips. Also, recipes, lots of recipes...  

I is for Italia!

This is the town of Riomaggiore in Cinque Terre

After a few fast paced weeks here I I have discovered that this may be the land I belong the most.

Every turn I take, every product I taste, every single word I hear about quality of life and food, and actually adhering to that standard, causes a new well of happiness within my heart, and multiple times a day in fact. I am blessed to have gone to the first half of this culinary school adventure in New York City, and I do truly love the States. California will always be my home and my heart. My many trips to National Parks across the county; darting from North and South and East to West; I do miss my family and friends. Being here though, well (deep deep sigh...) it's another dream that I never thought possible and another stepping stone that gets me closer to my goals. Sometimes throughout the day I need to pinch myself. 

I never want it to be over. Can we make that happen please?

Every day for school, a la castle di ALMA here in Colorno, outside the beautiful city of Parma, we learn the history of the country, taught that food makes up the threads of our being (something I have been preaching for years), and are stressed to comprehend how to live a life in accordance to seasonality and freshness is of the utmost importance. We see and taste products that, for all intensive purposes, only exist here (trust me though, I have a list of items I want to try to smuggle back). There is basil that is only grown in Liguria, there is citrus that can't leave the island of Sardegna, there is cheese that everyone across the country agrees is the best Pecorino and you had better not mess with it, in fact even the Radiccio is preciously preserved by the Slow Food movement. I mean, come on, if you know me at all, you must know how much that makes my heart swell with happiness. 

Sunset in Levanto.

I have never eaten so well on a regular basis. Not even just rich and luxurious items like fois gras or lardo, although I have had some seriously rich food, more on that later, but even the peppers taste better here. The zucchini has a quality to it which I cannot quite describe. The sapore of each piece of produce is incomparable to anything I have tried thus far. I think I have probably eaten my weight in Cherries from the Veneto region, which are my favorite. 

Because I have had so many experiences within the past 4 or 5 weeks ( I cannot even keep track of time right now) I don't think I can list them.  Actually, it wouldn't be fair to you, it would sound more like bragging than explaining, because seriously it has been that good. 

Romagna, and in the distance the Adriatic Sea.

What I can say is that Italian's, on a whole, are so healthful and beautiful. They care about each product, how its grown, how it is treated, where is comes from, who grew it, why it is the right thing to use in one recipe versus another preparation. A small snippet of examples: They will not buy something if it isn't up to standard, they will not settle for less than what they are used to. One of the most amazing and heartwarming moments was when our lovely and amazing Chef Bruno Ruffini brought in herbs which he had picked from his mothers garden to fill with our Tortelli recipe for that day.  Not because we didn't have stuff to put in them, the school could have provided it, but those were the herbs we needed.  Herbs from a real garden. Herbs from a mom's garden. They probably tasted better for it. Honestly, I cannot think of a better place to get that kind of variety of greens than from the region they grow wild in. Additionally, as we all know, Italian mothers, more over grandmothers for that matter, are the best source for anything good in this world. We have guest chefs that come in and have us try produce, cheese and special oils just from their region, because they deem it the best. Gotta say though, the very best onions though are from Calabria. Hands down. 

Artisan Cheese making treasure to the world.

I could go on and on. I could wax poetically about cheese that I have eaten, or how my classmates and I so leisurely sample Michelin star food from chefs across this beautiful country; how each and every day I discover a much richer life and just by eating food. We have a professor that reminds me of my favorite teacher in 7th and 8th grade. He teaches us about the beauty of Italia. The beauty of each region, why they are all important to the patchwork map that makes up Italy. It amazes me how many pages I have filled in my notebook after his lectures come to a close. Just listening to this man with an amazing tan, dark red hair, glasses and whom is definitely Italian, but when he speaks english has a Scottish accent. Mr. Stefano Bently is an absolute treasure. I want him near by all the time to tell we why and how things came to pass.

I have so much to say, an I am sorry that I have been so absent, but when in a haze of total amazement and pleasure, one is not apt to keep up with things of this nature. I will do my best to keep you informed more in future, in fact probably regale you with tid-bits that have already passed. Best I can do is keep taking notes, keep my mind open and keep tasting. By doing this anyone can expand their mind in ways you may have never thought possible.
When you see me in the future, when you speak with me in person, I will have changed, and only for the better. My face may have aged, my dark circles may be deeper from long nights of Lombrusco and 12 hours day in the kitchen. But, this place has changed me.
And if you thought my food was good before, well
This life that I have lead, its been child's play up until now. The bar has been raised forever. This journey has just begun, and this land that I wish one day to call home has enchanted me. 

Heaven?

I will write more soon, cross my heart.
    Si si si si, sure sure sure sure.