Posts Tagged ‘Food’

by Tina Ferrari

I recently spent just over a week in Puglia; Lecce, to be exact, on the Salento peninsula.  Looking at a map of Italy, you’ll find it near the bottom of the “stiletto heel”.

A friend brought me to the ancient town of Gallipoli one morning.  Located about 45 minutes from Lecce on the Ionian Sea, Gallipoli in February is sleepy and warm.  After a cold and gray winter in Perugia, it felt good to walk along the water without a jacket, breathing in the salty air.

While my friend was at an appointment, I took the opportunity to walk around the town a little bit and peek into stores. I came across a shop selling things like local olive oil and wine.  I decided to go in, and the man running the shop offered me tastes of very green olive oil and a glass of wine.  We chatted about grapes and olives (two of my favorite things) as I sipped my negroamaro.

Ricci di mare

Afterwards, with a newly purchased bottle of wine in my bag, I found my friend again and she said, “Tina, you have to taste ricci!”  I wasn’t quite sure what she was talking about until we came upon a group of fishermen who had laid out a nice-sized pile of very fresh spiny sea urchins on a table.  She asked if I could taste one since I had never had them before.  One of the men obliged and with a swift move and a “crack!”, a sea urchin was cut in half to reveal it’s red and orange roe, and offered to me with a spoon.

It was quite a delight to taste and smell the salty sea in such a way.  “Do you like them?” they asked me.  I nodded my head happily and we bought a big container of them.

Our fresh lunch on the sea

We found an open supermarket and brought some bread and water, and sat at a table overlooking one of the beaches.  The sun warmed our backs as we contentedly scooped out the ricci with bread, without a care in the world.  The ricci were a pleasant surprise, and perhaps my favorite culinary discovery on this trip.

Tina Ferrari is a translator, writer and tango dancer based in Umbria, Italy. She writes at AffordableCallingCards.net as well as on her own blog, Tina Tangos. Comments are always welcome!

by Tina Ferrari

When we relocate to a country other than the one we were born in, we bring part of our culture with us – particularly our food culture.  We embrace our new home yet we can’t help sometimes missing things we enjoyed in our birth country.  I’ve heard many an American expat talk about peanut butter, ranch dressing and cheddar cheese, not to mention the wide ranges of choices in the supermarkets back home.

I get the peanut butter thing, as I’m a bit of a peanut butter addict.  But to be honest, I have never liked ranch dressing, and cheddar, while I like it, didn’t have as prominent a spot in our fridge as Parmigiano Reggiano and various stinky European cheeses (thanks to Husky’s deli in West Seattle!).  Growing up in a setting where the cuisine took on quite an Italian slant, I ate homemade garlicky bean soups much more often than Mac & cheese, and a lot of the produce I ate came from my grandparents’ garden.

On top of that I had a father who was always curious about international cuisine, so when we did eat outside of the home, it was Thai, Vietnamese or Middle Eastern.  When my American friends talk about childhood comfort foods, I don’t always know what they are referring to.  Unless it has peanut butter.

When I first came to Italy it was like coming home because I had finally found a place where I could find cooking similar to what my grandmother and my father would make at home.  In coming to Italy, I have come back to some favorite Ferrari family comfort foods.

I am still American, though.  What do I miss as an American?  Peanut butter with just peanuts as the sole ingredient.  Seattle’s plethora of Thai restaurants.  Pho.

Being raised “bi-culturally” has been a blessing, now that I think about it.  I’m able to appreciate the best of two different worlds.

Tina Ferrari is a translator, writer and tango dancer based in Perugia, Italy. She writes at AffordableCallingCards.net as well as on her own blog, Tina Tangos. Comments are always welcome!

I think one of the most difficult things for most expats to get used to is the change in food.  I notice that when I read other blogs the bloggers always talk about the food they miss.  If you lived in a place where there was an abundance of ethnic foods and then move to a place where the daily fare is less exciting, you find yourself dreaming of those foods you don’t have anymore.  Even junk food like marshmallows or peanut butter become forbidden foods to die for.

I notice that Emily a blogger from Chile (Don’t Call Me Gringa) has written several posts about food she misses from California.  I liked her post about cheese.  She really misses the variety of cheese she could get back in the US.   Julia Evans another blogger on this site, also from Argentina ( Evansgate) brought back salad dressing when she went  home.

My friend Gina missed cupcakes so much she started a business making cupcakes. (Palermo Cupcakery) Sometimes I read this blog about this young woman who is a vegetarian. Being a vegetarian really is not a big deal here. It takes getting used to. I think mostly they are in culture shock more than anything else. Buenos Aires is clearly meat country. She misses her peanut butter. ( Veggie Carly)

Personally, I don’t miss that much anymore.  Cinnamon candies, Peets coffee.  I can live without them. What I do miss is good ethnic food.  I was so happy to find the Korean barrio here in Buenos Aires.  It is in a bad neighborhood.  It doesn’t stop me.  I try to round up a group of friends and go there as much as I can.  It is my favorite food.

One of my friends who is Korean Argentine told me that the Korean barrio in Buenos Aires is like Korea in the 1970s.  He thinks that I am crazy to want to go there so much.  The food is excellent.  I think it is the only food in Argentina that is spicy.  My other expat friends love to go there with me.

Last week a group of us went before we went to dance tango.  We made jokes we would have Korean Barbecue breath all night.  Not such a good thing when you are dancing close.  I think we were all so happy to have the food we didn’t care.

All the tables have their own barbecue where you grill beef, pork, shrimp, and octopus.

They bring you 1000s of little dishes of wonderful spicy foods. Each one is different and delicious.

Korean Sake is not like Japanese Sake, it is much smoother. Unfortunately I could drink a whole bottle of it.

This restaurant serves oysters on the half shell and you can have as many as you want. In a seafood devoid BA this is like a slice of heaven.

You cannot possibly eat all the food they bring you.  The amazing thing is that it is like a buffet, all you can eat.  If you want seconds or thirds on any of the dishes, all you have to do is ask.  It is all included in the price.  My Argentine Korean friend David thinks we are all crazy.  He also thinks it is funny that the owners of the restaurants all know me and come out to greet me.

The Korean Barrio are Korean expats.  They are eating their native foods.  For us, me and my friends, the Korean barrio is a slice of life we had before moving here.  I think it is nice how we are all immigrants and we can share something in common that we love, food.

Deby Novitz moved to Buenos Aires in 2004 from California. She has a small bed and breakfast for tango dancers, she writes, does translations, teaches English, and of course dances tango. You can find more about her life in Buenos Aires on her blog  TangoSpam: La Vida Con Deby.

One thing I really enjoy about living in Chile is that I eat much more seasonally and locally. In the US, sure, I understood that tomatoes tasted better, strawberries were bigger and stonefruits fell off the trees in summer. But beyond that, I couldn’t tell you when celery was in season or where my lemons came from.

In Chile, by contrast, eating out of season is harder than consuming in-season prodcuts. The bigger supermarkets do now tend to stock produce year-round, and I’ve traded the “product of Chile” stickers in December for “producto de California” stickers in July. But when I have the option of spending a bundle for a rock-hard nectarine that’s traveled thousands of miles or for the same price coming home with a bag full of oranges from a few hours away, the choice is pretty clear.

Imported products are also expensive. It’s a long, skinny country, so I suppose technically not everything I consume is local even if it is domestic. Most milk, for example, is produced between the 9th and 10th regions in the south – about 10 hours from Santiago. But that’s still more local than products whose ingredients are flown into US processing plants from around the world, and most fruits and vegetables come from farms relatively close to the city. Plus, the short distance from the coast to just about anywhere means that fresh, local sea food is always available.

Yum!

The difference in price and availability has made me much more aware of what food grows when. Not surprisingly, in-season produce is not only cheaper, it tastes better too. I’d rather really enjoy delicious, juicy peaches for only a few months each year than force down a hard, flavorless one in the middle of winter. It’s also made spring more exciting, as the open-air markets burst into color as myriad fruits come into season. I had my first strawberry the other day, and not only was it delicious but it made me excited for the advent of summer.

We usually buy our groceries at the supermarket for convenience. Nothing can compare, however, to taking a weekend trip to the Vega Central, Santiago’s main open-air market, and seeing stall after stall stacked high with fresh produce. The colors and the smells are enough to tempt me into making the trip, and the products taste better than the industrially produced stuff that hits supermarket shelves.

Clearly I'm not the only one who likes to shop at la Vega!

Chile certainly can’t compete with California in terms of the organic movement, and there isn’t much awareness of the enivronmental benefits of eating locally and seasonally. That said, the simple fact of the matter is that it happens, regardless of the reason, and I for one am appreciative that living here makes it so easy for me to make what I consider to be better food choices.

Emily Williams is a US gringa living in Santiago, Chile. She writes about expat life at AffordableCallingCards.net and on her personal blog, Don’t Call Me Gringa, and loves hearing from readers!

As an expat, it’s easy to miss all sorts of things. Friends, family, customs and regular hang-out spots may come to mind first, but if you ask anyone who’s lived abroad for a while, they’ll probably mention something else: food.

Call me crazy, but I specifically miss cheese. Sure, Chile has cheese and plenty of it. But most of it’s some form of mild and light yellow – gouda, mantecoso and chanco being the main options – with the other two major categories being quesillo/queso fresco (white, soft and even milder) and goat cheese (not the spreadable chevre style, this stuff has the consistency of provolone).

This is just about every variety of cheese available in Chile, source: www.visitingchile.com

There are other options, ranging from parmesan to gruyere to edam, and you can easily find camembert and brie. What’s the problem then, you may be wondering. Here it is, in a nutshell: no cheddar. Don’t count on finding any of the other typical US cheeses either. I didn’t realize just how often I used cheese, from sandwiches to quesadillas, until none of the stuff available to me tasted quite right.

I’m half English, so maybe that’s where the cheese obsession liking comes from. The English do their cheeses well, and it seems like every little town has its own delicious variety. Coming from that to a land with no Lancashire or Wensleydale and not even a cube of Monterey Jack isn’t easy, and there are times when I’d kill for a slice of Swiss on a sandwich.

Friends and family you can call on the phone. Customs you can attempt to recreate on your own or with other expats. And you’ll make new hang-out spots. But food? If the ingredients can’t be found then you can’t recreate it, and often customs regulations make it hard to import your own supplies.

It explains why when I go home, I plan out what I’m going to eat to make sure I satisfy all my cravings. Why a friend’s mom brought her US candy and Goldfish crackers. Why that same friend earned herself some serious brownie points when she shared the goods with the rest of our gringa friends. And why I was once the thrilled recipient of a two pound block of Tillamook medium cheddar brought by a visiting friend. Luckily for me, Chilean custom agents have no problem with pasteurized cheese.

Delicious, source: www.tillamookcheese.com of course

Emily Williams is a US gringa living in Santiago, Chile. She writes about expat life at AffordableCallingCards.net and on her personal blog, Don’t Call Me Gringa, and loves hearing from readers!

This weekend is the beginning of spring.  Argentines never need an excuse to celebrate.  Spring is as good as an excuse as any.  This year we have had an unbearable winter.  It was terribly cold (for us) and the Swine Flu epidemic made it a winter you wanted to stay in more than normal.

My friend Aidana and her husband Steve have invited me to their empanada party on Saturday night.  Empanadas are an Argentine turnover.  They can be fried or baked.  I love them fried, but considering the health aspects, I mostly eat them baked.  The pastry is called a tapa and depending on how it is folded, will give you a clue as to what the filling inside is.  Traditional empanadas are filled with chicken, ham and cheese, beef, and spicy beef.  Spicy for the Argentines, but not for anyone else.  Argentines do not like spicy food.  Usually you can also find corn, swiss chard, Roqueforte, Roqueforte and ham, and cheese and onion.  Many places are now experimenting with eggplant, mozzarella, tomato sauce, tuna, and even dessert empanadas with apples and strawberries.

Empanadas are an Argentine fast food.  Mostly they are made in pizzarias or at home.  There are specialty stores that sell only empanadas.  I don’t understand why any Argentine would want to eat McDonalds when they could have an empanada.

I am running late and have decided to buy the empanadas from next door at the pasta shop.  The husband and wife who run the store make home made pasta and empanadas.  They usually only have two kinds; meat and/or ham and cheese.  These are the fillings in their pastas. The empanadas are a little more money but they are larger and excellent.

After waiting for the bus longer than I wanted to, I opt for the subte.  Me, the empanadas, and a bottle of wine.  The subte is actually better because it will leave me a block from their house.  I just didn’t feel like changing lines.  The key is to get there.

Aidana is an artist who makes jewelry and handbags from trash.  Her stuff is great.  Very creative.  She makes things from old tires, milk cartons, you name it. Trash-Fashions is the name of her site. You should check it out. It is really cool.  Steve is a writer.

When I get to their place there are lots of people and empanadas already there.  Steve takes me up to the terrace.   They have a parrilla going to heat the empanadas.  I don’t know anyone here, or so I thought.  I introduce myself to a group of women seated in front of me.  They ask me where I am from.  The eternal question.  They are not sure whether to try and speak in English with me or not.  I start in Spanish.  They are delighted.

Within seconds someone puts a glass of wine in my hand.  I had confided in Steve that I bought the wine I did because it was A) cheap, and B) had a really great label.  He told me that they buy it all the time and that it is excellent. I taste it.  I am not sure I would call it excellent, but it is a good value at 6.50 pesos.

I go over to the empanadas.  What a selection!  It is dark so trying to figure out what something is, will be impossible.  I take one and bite into it.  Eggplant and mozzarella.  Que rico!  As I turn, a German couple introduce themselves to me.  We chat for a bit when I hear my name.  I turn to see a woman I had met at another party.  I thought that she had gone back to the U.S.  She tells me she did, but collected her dog and came back.

Aidana has salsa music blaring.  A man is teasing the young woman sitting next to me.  She just started dancing salsa and he is quizzing her.  She is frustrated because she does not know the answers.  I do.   He asks her where to dance salsa on Corrientes.  I whisper “Azucar and maybe better is La Salsera on Yatay.”  She tells him.  He is dumbfounded.  Each time he asks a question, I give her the answer until he gets bored and walks away.  She introduces herself to me.  She is a teaching assistant at the University.  She gets my number and email “Now we have to go dance salsa.” she tells me.

I decide to try another empanada.  Yum.  This one is chicken and cheese.  It is delicious.  Most likely because it had been fried.  They really are good that way, but so bad for you.  I try another wine.  I don’t drink much so I have to be careful.  I don’t want to be drunk on the bus going home.

I run into Beatrice.  This was a complete surprise.  Her husband is a pyromanic with the fire.  He tells me how he likes to kill mosquitos.  I tell Beatrice I hope she has lots of insurance. We catch up on our lives.  As I turn around I see an old friend I have not seen for awhile, my friend Victoria.  She looks wonderful. It is amazing what a small city Buenos Aires can be.

After consuming too many empanadas, wine, and even a chocolate chip cookie, I decide it is time to leave.  I say good bye to my old friends and the new friends I have made.  Now it is officially spring.

Deby Novitz moved to Buenos Aires in 2004 from California. She has a small bed & breakfast for tango dancers,writes, does translations, teaches English, and of course dances  tango. You can out find more about Deby and her life in Buenos Aires on her blog  TangoSpam:La Vida Con Deby

I had to both laugh and nod in agreement when I read Julie’s post. At 5′9″ there is no reason for me to have bought some size extra small shirts during my latest trip to the US. Sure, I have a slim build, but what about the slim 5′2″ people? Where do they find clothes? Have I just missed out on the new US fashion – perhaps inspired by the recession – of using your t-shirts as both dresses and sleeping bags? Either way, it’s a far cry from what I’m used to in Chile, where my 1.75 meters pretty much make me a giant. Let’s just say shopping is tricky in Santiago.

That said, I don’t know if I agreed with Julie’s point about the portions in the US being bigger. Yes, I know that we have an obesity epidemic, and I know that both our dinner plates and our restaurant meals are far larger than any person needs to survive. But if you think that the average dinner in the US is bigger than the average Chilean almuerzo, you clearly do not have an abuelita, a grandmother.

As an expat, you of course won’t have your own Chilean grandmother, but you can latch on to a significant other or close friend – abuelitas are usually happy to welcome another hungry mouth to the table. My boyfriend’s usually tells me that I’m too skinny before loading my bowl with cazuela, a Chilean soup that’s a meal in itself, what with the large chunks of chicken, vegetables and potatoes. But it’s not a meal, just your appetizer. My plate then comes piled high with more chicken, steak, more potatoes and a variety of salads.

Because abuelitas tend to be good cooks, and my surrogate abuelita is no exception, I finish my portion through sheer will – I’m never actually hungry enough for all of that food, but it’s too good to stop before my plate is clean. And then she asks if I want seconds. And remarks that I eat so little when I explain that really, I might explode if I take another bite!

I’ve seen the statistics on US portion sizes. But I think that when it comes to the biggest portions out there, Chilean abuelitas could give US restaurants a run for their money, and at least the restaurant doesn’t guilt trip you into eating more. And who knows, if I stay in Chile for the long term, maybe some day I’ll work my way up to a US size medium!

Emily Williams wrote this article for AffordableCallingCards.net where she talks about expat life.  She shares more about life as a US gringa living in Santiago, Chile on her personal blog, Don’t Call Me Gringa, and loves hearing from readers!

In What Universe Am I a Size Small?

I’m visiting in the U.S. for a while, and I feel like Alice through the looking glass who has eaten that part of the mushroom that shrinks her. Everything is bigger in the U.S. than in Buenos Aires.

Cars are bigger. My mother’s car is huge, and everyone keeps so much space around them, compared to the crowded streets in BsAs where the tiny cars squeeze as many as possible into a street, ignoring painted lanes.

Clothes are bigger. I went into Target and tried on a dress that was too big, and ended up with a small. I’m not small. I’m 5′6″ and a little overweight right now. But the small fit me. In BsAs, the sizes run from 1-4, and I’m a 3. Go figure.

Food servings are bigger. There are some places down South where one can get a huge plate of milanesa napolitana, but those in the know generally share it. People eat out a lot, but I routinely see men eating a salad or soup for an evening meal. The few places I have eaten out at in the U.S. have given me enough food to feed three people. THREE.

People are bigger. In Argentina, people tend to be more petite. At least half of the women I see on the street are a full head shorter than me. This is part of the reason for the smaller clothes… but not all of it. There is definitely an obesity epidemic in the United States. After being away for a year, I definitely see it everywhere I go. There are overweight people in Buenos Aires, obviously, but not at the scale I see here.  Granted, Argentine culture tends to pressure women to be thin, perhaps going too far at times. But I am 15 pounds overweight, and fit in a size small? The U.S. is definitely on the opposite end of the spectrum.

This is scary. I’m definitely motivated to get outdoors and get some exercise, and eat more salads.

Julia Evans wrote this article for AffordableCallingCards.net where she blogs about her life as an expat.  She also writes a personal blog Evans’ Gate about living as an American expat in Buenos Aires, where she lives with her husband.  Comments on both blogs welcome!