Would you rather give up chocolate or cheese?
(if you had to give one up)

This question was put forth on Serious Eats, a food blog I often read. While I thought this one would be tough, surprisingly, the answer comes quite easily for me. I would give up chocolate before I gave up cheese. I love chocolate, but cheese is the clear winner for me.

What do you think?
Leave a comment. Let me know.

I've finished the final Harry Potter book. I'm so sad that there is not another to look forward to. I do, however, plan to reread the complete series. I really enjoyed the last book! J. K. Rowling is a great writer. Amy, I can't wait to finally talk about the book with you!

I was only seven years old when my Nonna Olga died. Her youth and mine never allowed for the development of the closeness I imagine we would have shared in later years. The few memories I have of her are much cherished, as are any memories my mother and my Nonno pass on to me. As my interest in Italian culture and cooking grows, I’ve realized that learning my grandmother’s recipes is one way I can still feel close to her.

When my mom visited me in DC last weekend, I prepared a recipe that my grandmother cooked often for her family. Bracciole was completely new to me. I’d never heard of it until my mom mentioned it to me only a week prior. As found in so many of the best recipes, a cheap cut of beef is used and cooked until tender. Bracciole is simple. Sauteed Italian flat-leaf parsley, pine nuts, and garlic line a rolled beef cutlet (I added mushrooms). The beef is browned for a couple of minutes at the bottom of a heavy sauce pan. Sauce is added, enough to cover the meat, and it all cooks slowly until the beef is very tender.


In addition to the bracciole, I made a salad of grapefruit, parsley, onion, and fennel, placed over a bed of arugula (I saw Giada De Laurentiis prepare this as a salsa for cod, I add arugula and call it a salad.) Finally, to pay homage to one very nice June 2007 night in Verona, I prepared gorgonzola polenta.


Not sure how I did, as I'd never prepared bracciole before, I braced myself as my mom took her first bite. Her shoulders dropped, she seemed transported, "Exactly like Nonna used to make." I felt triumphant. Would she have been proud? I hope so.

It was impossible not to think of the coming season today. The direct sun still warm, but the shadows cool, and the air stirred with a crisp breeze. There are a few things that will always remind me of autumn, my most cherished season. And though we are still eight days from its dawn, today I prematurely welcomed in the season with each of them.

Ever since our first autumn in New Orleans, on a day much like today, donning the first sweater since winter, I sat with Ryan outside PJs where I savored a chai tea (did you know that in many languages chai means tea? My friend Husam brought this to my attention and now each time I say chai tea I laugh at its redundancy). In honor of that beautiful day, and turn of the season, Ryan and I walked over to Caribou Coffee for a chai latte.

The cool weather whets my appetite for soups, stews, and everything squash! So, we’ve had Creole gumbo simmering all afternoon, I purchased my first squash of 2007, and I just cracked my first pumpkin ale.

Ahh, pumpkin ale.

Most of you know that I am a sucker for anything and everything pumpkin! Each autumn I work with passion and dedication to consume as much pumpkin-inspired fare as possible. The list topper (as always and without question): beer. I am currently working on a new blog that highlights my search for the great pumpkin– my own personal spinoff! My Rhoda, to The Mary Tyler Moore Show, my Joannie Loves Chachie to Happy Days, my Jeffersons to All in the Family.

For Labor Day, Ryan and I headed out to San Jose to visit Amy, Andy, and my favorite nephew, Alex. We had such a wonderful time. I can't believe how much Alex has grown and changed since we last saw him in July. My favorite new development is his laugh.



Not only did we have a great time making Alex laugh, but we had the opportunity to go to the Haight-Ashbury area of San Francisco. Though I am well-aware of the fact that this area has been commercialized since the hippies moved in during the 1960s, experiencing Haight-Ashbury was exciting. Just as City Lights brought back fond memories of my immersion in everything beat, Haight-Ashbury called to mind my love of the Grateful Dead and life before cubicles and a 9-to-5 schedule.



On Monday, we ventured over to Santa Cruz for a bit of beach, beer, and boardwalk. I had such a blast on the rides and I only questioned my mortality once, when I was upside down and at least one hundred feet in the air. Only a momentary buzz-kill. Before we arrived in Santa Cruz, Amy explained that it wasn't going to be a high-class affair. She was right. It wasn't a place of class and high-rollers, it was, however, the best place to find young children with classic hair styles.

Exhibit A: A bit of Mulletude
*please note, I have strategically placed the inflated hammer in front of this boy's face to protect his identity



Exhibit B: The Classic Rat Tail

Sadly, we didn't eat dinner at the boardwalk - though the fried dough, fried fudge, fried twinkies, and french fries were all so tempting. Instead, we went back to San Jose and indulged at a Japanese steak house. Yum.