World to Table

To escape the sweltering subway stations and crowded streets of August in New York City, my family took a road trip to Cape Cod two weekends ago. My sister and I have been wanting to go whale watching since our days at Sea World camp–many years ago, back when we were four feet tall and in elementary school. We spent that summer feeding manatees and dissecting squid. It was only the beginning of our love for the creatures of the sea.

After five long hours of driving, we arrived in Provincetown with aching legs and growling stomachs and made our way to the nearest wharf-side food shack, John’s Footlong, to refuel before we boarded the boat for our whale watching tour.

Lobster roll busting at the seams

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If you can’t tell from my previous posts, I have a thing for combining salty with sweet. It was only recently that I was introduced to the classic Cuban combination of guava and cheese, a delicious marriage of white, creamy cheese and sweet, sticky guava paste, typically found tucked away in the buttery folds of flaky pastries.

While I was in Los Angeles last month, my friends Stephanie and Ashley brought me to Porto’s Bakery, a Cuban-style bakery in Glendale. Going to Porto’s requires patience, usually a 10-15 minute wait on line before actually reaching the ordering counter. I wasn’t in the mood for any ordinary pastry. When it came time for me to order, I looked past the fruit tarts, eclairs, and cookies, and finally found what I was looking for: disguised as a normal Apple Strudel, the thick red paste and crumbly curds of cheese peeking out from the sides revealed its true identity–a Guava and Cheese Strudel. Biting into the strudel, the pastry crumbled into crisp, delicate flakes. After the first few bites, I reached the filling–a thick guava paste with a slight gritty texture, like drinking a can of Kern’s Guava Nectar but in paste-form, which paired so perfectly with a mildly salty and creamy cheese.

Guava and Cheese Strudel at Porto’s Bakery

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When it comes to cooking (and eating), I am a big fan of the one-pot meal. From my mother’s “famous” tomato ox-tail stew to made-from-scratch chicken soup, there’s something about throwing a bunch of fresh ingredients into a pot, stirring them around, and inhaling that steady flow of aromatic steam that is extremely satisfying. It’s how I imagined cooking would be when I used to play house with my sister, and as I’ve grown older, I’ve discovered the joy of only cleaning one pot after dinner.

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I’m usually not big on sweets, but I can never turn down pastries and cakes from Cannelle Patisserie. Here’s a little something I wrote for LIC Bites, a food column in a newsletter for my fellow condo residents in Long Island City, Queens:

If you don’t have time for a summer getaway, or you’ve just got a craving for something sweet, take a trip to Queens, where you will find that the pastries of Paris await you. Cannelle Patisserie is a French bakery hidden deep within an unassuming mini-mall in Jackson Heights. The inviting aromas of coffee, buttery puffed pastry and French baguettes will reel you in upon entering. Inside you will find artfully decorated cakes behind the refrigerated display, shimmering tarts and quiches, and freshly baked pastries piled in woven baskets.

Jean-Claude Perennou, Pastry Chef and Proud Owner of Cannelle Patisserie

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Last Thursday a bunch of us city folks made a trip down south to Louisa, Virginia to stay at my friend Tristan’s family farm. We hopped on the Boltbus for a 4-hour wi-fi and coffee fueled journey down to Washington D.C. Arriving in the early afternoon, we spent the rest of the day walking, eating, visiting National monuments, and then eating some more. Greasy sliders from Matchbox were followed by gloriously juicy cheeseburgers at Ray’s Hell Burger—the beefy patty oozed with intense beef flavor. We concluded our day of eating at Dolcezza, a gelateria in Georgetown, where we cooled down with cups of gelato. The Blueberry Lemon Thyme and Lemon Opal Basil gelato burst with creamy, tart, and herbaceous flavors, waking me up from my sluggish summer lethargy.

Baby sliders topped with a mountain of fried onions

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