A weekend in Bologna

Aperitivo where? Lunch? Can we taste different things at dinner?

No other city trip has been so much about food as this one. Including taking tortellini home as souvenir.

My third time here makes me a kind of local, showing the secret Finestrella di via Piella and climbing the Towers to enjoy the beauty of the red roofs and albeit not really knowing where to go out at night when you are beyond your university times.

One thing fore sure I did know: rent an apartment overlooking Piazza Maggiore and the view would do the rest.

Bluff

At the end of the day, the Clint Eastwoods, Luke McCains and cowboy Sams of my youth rode their horses towards the sunset. For sure it did not take them long to cross the Monument Valley - it did not take us long either, dozens of photo shootings included. 

At end of the day, they must have gone back home and met some Laura Ingalls of sort, busy conquering the West.

That could well have been in Mexican Hat or in Bluff, at the end of the lonely road cutting through those dry red mountains of Utah.

The Ingalls are not there any longer but the Demings and a bunch of their friends are still there, entertaining visitors, enjoying themselves and holding the Fort.

Fort Bluff that is: maxi pancakes for breakfast, hand made cookies for a snack and a walk in traditional costumes, through the history of the West and its first heroes, living in cabins to obey the call from God.

Was it real or was it all just an illusion?

I remember you did not eat rice

How far can one go in Malaysia if she does not eat rice? Far, very far. And happily so.

Can you eat spicy food? Tom yam soup with sea food? Can, can.
Penang style Kway Teaw? Can, can.
Steamed pow? Chicken in Pandan leaves? Can, can.
Beef rendang? Can, can.
Red snapper or pomfret? Grilled please.

Hawker food? No hesitation!

"Shall we go eat at the American restaurant? Just to relax your stomach with western food." 

Oh, for Goodness sake, no!

My fruit chapter is quite long. Fruit whose existence I completely ignored popped up on the table, straight to my mouth: custard apple, dokong, longan, mangoustine, dragon fruit, guava. 

At the end, spoiled by superb fresh mango, coconut and water melon juice, I'm not sure I'll be able to drink anymore the stuff we sell back in Europe.


My roller coaster ride into new flavours had to stop somewhere and it did.

It stopped at the encounter with stinky Durian. The - ahem - "king of fruit" is big in Malaysia but I realised I better survive without it. And it stopped again with the Cengdol and a bunch of other gummy sweets involving the use of red beans. That far I could not go. 


Luckily, besides the Cengdol, Malacca has got unforgettable pineapple tarts. Yummi!

Eat, Pray, L...

What an experience is to visit the Holy Land. Quite apart from the most serious manifestations of the Jerusalem syndrome, it is sort of unavoidable to find oneself caught in the mystic atmosphere of the Old city and to feel the intense spirituality of the place - well, if one manages to abstract from the hords of tourists snapping pics and of pilgrims rubbing all sort of clothes on every holy stones around.

And this even after a few visits, when you think you know enough to play the tour guide for your friends.

Not much partying, but the gastronomic side of the Holy Land was, once again, no less mystic.

Despite a well deserved special mention for the superb crabs from Chakra, the discovery of this trip was much more low profile: the Yemenite Malawach.

Almost the only food available to us on Shabbath, a fried pancake filled with hummus, tahini, tomatoes, peppers, aubergines, onions, spicy mix and zaatar (but you could further use your creativity), roll up and eat.

Tel Aviv knows almost no Shabbath (except for hotel staff waking us up because checkout time on Friday is at 9 am) but knows all kind of gastronomic pleasures. Our pick: Nanuchka, good Georgian food and over-excited customers singing, dancing and screaming all night long.

Over to Nazareth, the palm goes to Al Reda, in an old Ottoman mansion, facing St.Joseph's Church. Excellent muhammar, very helpful host, great views from the rooftop terrace, and a romantic loft for future needs. Note taken. 

And the "L" part of this story? Well, some Listening will do.

Eating London away

That funny little rain which annoys you  but does not make you really wet. 

Those very nice services, such as free WiFi connections for starving foreign smartphones.

That people’s incessant hurrying everywhere, like those escalators in the underground, faster than everywhere else.

And that endless choice of food, from the four corners of the world.

Food, yes. Got the feeling that all was about food, this one and half day in London.

For example, my eating the greasiest possible food (fish and chips, in case you are wondering), in possibly one of the most famous Fish and Chips places in town, and sitting next to the occasional American tourist ordering to the amused waitress: “Do you have something which is NOT fried”?

Next stop, Italian ice cream place Scoop, just next door. Having a long chat about living in The City with the funny Italian waiter, totally bored (who would want an ice cream in a grey cold and humid London day?) and considering a life change: making money more quickly by working in some restaurant in Australia.

More food at Marks and Spencer, trying not to get discouraged by the long serpentine queue at check out. Highlight of the day, the season repackaging: your favourite comfort food now becomes your Valentine's eat-in ready made dinner for two. Runner up: among all sorts of impulse junk food next to the cashier, the "healthy" section: chocolate hearts.

And what recommendation for best dinner in town? Or the best option for lunch break? Same answer: Pan-Asian.

To finish off, coffee at Nero: what's wrong with ordering a single espresso ristretto and why should the waitress not believe that, yes, I want something this small?