A few years ago Paul and I spent a week in Porto, Portugal. It is one of my favourite cities to visit. I know… I say that a lot. But Porto is different. It has its own personality.

The buildings are old and weathered. Paint peels. Stone has been worn smooth by centuries of people walking the same streets. Nothing feels polished or perfect, and that’s exactly what I love about Porto. It feels lived in.

The people make the city come alive. Everywhere we went we were welcomed with a smile, and before long Porto felt like somewhere we’d happily return.

One afternoon we joined a private street art walking tour, and it turned out to be one of the highlights of our trip. We wandered through neighbourhoods we never would have found on our own and discovered another side of the city.

Most evenings we simply wandered, watching the sun set over the Douro River before finding another little restaurant for dinner.

The food…it was amazing.

Fresh fish. Fresh seafood. Traditional dishes made with simple ingredients. The seafood was always the star, and every meal reminded me just how connected Portuguese cooking is to the sea.

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For my return to Portugal through memory, I pulled Portugal: The Best Fish in the World from my Cookbook Shelf.

I bought the cookbook at Livraria Lello, one of the most beautiful bookstores I’ve ever visited. I could have spent hours wandering through its rooms, browsing the shelves and admiring the architecture. It felt like the perfect place to buy a cookbook that would eventually bring Portugal back into my kitchen.

I chose Stone Bass with Clams by José Avillez because it reminded me of everything I loved about eating in Porto. Fresh fish. Fresh clams. Simple ingredients. Nothing fussy. Just letting the seafood shine.

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I couldn’t find stone bass, so I bought a whole bar de ligne instead and filleted it myself. Honestly, that became part of the fun.

What really caught my attention was the sauce.

Instead of making a traditional fish stock, the recipe has you roast the fish head and bones with tomatoes, onions, garlic, and chorizo before turning everything into a tomato sauce. I’d never made a sauce that way before. The roasted vegetables added sweetness while the fish gave the sauce that unmistakable taste of the sea. It was one of those techniques that made me stop and think, why haven’t I done this before?

Another thing I appreciated was that much of the recipe could be prepared ahead of time. I filleted the fish and made the sauce earlier in the day, so when it came time for dinner all that was left was cooking the potatoes, steaming the clams, and finishing the fish. It’s the kind of recipe that’s perfect for entertaining because most of the work is already done.

Then there were the potatoes.

They may have been my favourite surprise.

They’re gently cooked in olive oil with herbs and strips of orange and lemon zest. Citrus never appears anywhere else in the recipe, but somehow those potatoes brighten the whole dish. They soak up all that infused oil and pair beautifully with the fish and clams. Such a simple idea. I’ll definitely be making potatoes this way again.

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The recipe called for cooking the fish sous vide.

I don’t own a sous vide machine… yet.

So I improvised.

I sealed the fish in freezer zip-top bags, heated a pot of water to 54°C, and stood there with my instant-read thermometer, keeping the temperature where it needed to be.

I wasn’t sure it was going to work.

When I cut into the fish, I was pleasantly surprised. It was beautifully tender, moist, and cooked just the way I had hoped.

I have to admit, I was pretty pleased with how it turned out.

I’ve always thought of myself as a little old-school when it comes to cooking, but after making this recipe, I can definitely see a sous vide machine finding its way into my kitchen one day.

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The finished dish was everything I hoped it would be.

The fish was delicate. The roasted tomato sauce tasted of both the sea and the vegetables. The clams added their own sweetness, and those citrusy potatoes brought just enough heartiness to make the whole meal feel complete.

Cooking this recipe brought Porto back into my kitchen for an evening.

That’s one of the things I love most about my Cookbook Shelf. Every recipe lets me travel back to a place I’ve loved. I remember the people, the meals, and almost always learn something new along the way.

Food really does connect us all.

Bar de Ligne with Clams

Adapted from Portugal: The Best Fish in the World by Fátima Moura
Recipe by José Avillez
Serves 2

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The Fish

Ingredients

1 whole bar de ligne (about 2 kg), gutted, scaled and filleted
Reserved citrus-infused olive oil

Method

Fillet the fish, leaving the skin on. Cut the fillets into 3-inch (7–8 cm) portions and refrigerate until ready to cook.

While the sauce, potatoes, and clams are finishing, bring a pot of water to 54°C.

Place the fish into freezer zip-top bags with a drizzle of the reserved citrus-infused olive oil. Seal the bags well, removing as much air as possible.

Cook the fish in the water bath for about 15 minutes, using an instant-read thermometer to keep the water at temperature.

Remove the fish from the bags and place it flesh-side down on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Broil until the skin is crisp.

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Roasted Tomato Fish Sauce

Ingredients

Head and bones from the fish
1 large onion, quartered
4 plum tomatoes
4 garlic cloves, crushed
2 fresh chorizo sausages, casing removed and crumbled
½ teaspoon coarse salt
1 cup olive oil
½ cup dry sherry

Method

Place all of the ingredients in a roasting pan.

Roast at 204°C (400°F) for 20–30 minutes, or until the vegetables are tender and the sherry has evaporated.

Remove and discard the fish head and bones. Allow everything to cool for about 15 minutes.

Reserve about ½ cup of the infused olive oil.

Transfer the vegetables to a food processor and purée until smooth.

Pass the sauce through a fine sieve into a saucepan and gently simmer until slightly thickened.

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Citrus Potatoes

Ingredients

3–4 new potatoes
Zest of 1 orange, cut into strips
Zest of 1 lemon, cut into strips
3 garlic cloves, crushed
1 sprig rosemary
1 sprig thyme
Olive oil
Salt
1 teaspoon whole peppercorns

Method

Heat enough olive oil to generously coat the bottom of a sauté pan.

Add the potatoes, citrus zest, garlic, rosemary, thyme, peppercorns, and a light sprinkle of salt.

Cook over medium heat, turning occasionally, until the potatoes are browned on all sides and tender.

Reserve a little of the citrus-infused oil for finishing the dish.

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Clams

Ingredients

500 g fresh clams
Olive oil
3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
½ cup dry sherry
½ cup chopped cilantro

Method

Rinse the clams well to remove any sand.

Heat a little olive oil in a saucepan. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant.

Add the clams and the sherry. Once the sherry begins to reduce, stir in the cilantro and cover the pan.

Cook for 3–5 minutes, or until the clams open.

Remove most of the clams from their shells, leaving about eight in their shells for garnish.

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Bringing it Together

Spread the roasted tomato sauce onto each plate.

Arrange the fish over the sauce, followed by the potatoes and clams.

Garnish with the reserved clams in their shells, drizzle with the reserved citrus-infused olive oil, and finish with fresh cilantro leaves.

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From My Kitchen

• I substituted bar de ligne for stone bass. It worked beautifully.
• Roasting the fish head and bones instead of making a traditional fish stock created one of the most flavourful seafood sauces I’ve ever made.
• The citrus potatoes were the biggest surprise. I’ll definitely use that technique again with other fish dishes.
• I don’t own a sous vide machine, so I improvised with freezer zip-top bags and a carefully monitored 54°C water bath. I was pretty pleased with how it turned out.
• Much of this recipe can be made ahead. I filleted the fish and made the sauce earlier in the day. Next time I’d make the sauce the day before.
• This is a wonderful dinner for guests. Finish the potatoes, clams, and fish just before serving.
• Will I make it again? Absolutely. It brought Porto back into my kitchen and taught me a few new techniques along the way.

Turkey has stayed with me ever since I first visited years ago with my youngest son on an educational tour. I’ll pick up where I left off in my previous post. 

After a few unforgettable days exploring Old Istanbul, we climbed onto our tour bus and headed across western Turkey.

We visited the Acropolis of Pergamum, then stopped in Bergama where we learned how beautiful Turkish silk rugs are woven by hand. Watching the women weave each rug was fascinating. The patience, precision, and artistry that went into every piece were incredible. From there we continued on to Ephesus before visiting the House of the Virgin Mary.

Walking through Ephesus didn’t feel like visiting ruins. It felt alive. I could imagine what life had been like thousands of years ago, but more than that, I felt the place. Maybe that sounds a little strange, but it really did have an energy to it. And then there were the cats. They were everywhere. I remember thinking they looked like little guardians, quietly watching over the people who had once lived there.

From there we traveled to the coastal town of Kuşadası. One evening we were sitting out on our hotel balcony when we realized there was a wedding taking place below us. We spent the evening watching the ceremony, the music, the dancing, and all the celebrating. We hadn’t planned it. It was just one of those unexpected gifts that travel sometimes gives you.

And of course…there was the food.

Every meal seemed to introduce me to something new. Spices I’d never tasted. A different way of cooking vegetables. Fresh bread. Yogurt with almost everything. It was simple food that somehow had incredible depth of flavor.

Fast forward quite a few years.

A few weeks ago I was wandering through The Spice House in Chicago. Sitting on the shelf was some Urfa Biber. I picked it up immediately because I already knew Turkey would be my next Cookbook Shelf adventure. It just felt like one of those little moments where life nudges you and says, “Yep…you’re on the right track.”

I started with The Imam Fainted baked eggplant, but it really felt like it wanted some company on the plate. So I flipped through the cookbook and landed on a recipe for pounded lamb chops. I borrowed the spice rub, rubbed it onto a rack of lamb the night before, and Paul grilled it on the Weber while I finished everything else.

Homemade lavash. Garlic yogurt. Charred peppers.

Somewhere in the middle of cooking, I realized I wasn’t just thinking about the places we’d visited. I was remembering the people. That wedding in Kuşadası. Our guide. The calls to prayer drifting across the city. Sitting down together at the end of each day and wondering what we’d be eating next.

The funny thing is, the eggplant completely stole the show.

I used Edirne eggplants because they’re sweeter and creamier than the globe eggplants we usually see. I wasn’t disappointed. They bake down until they’re silky soft, and once they’re stuffed with slowly cooked onions, peppers, tomatoes, and herbs, they’re almost impossible to stop eating.

Honestly, forget the knife and fork. Scoop some onto warm lavash, add a swipe of garlic yogurt, and enjoy.

The lamb had that wonderful smoky, slightly spicy crust from the rub, and somehow everything just worked together. Sweet. Smoky. Creamy. Cool yogurt. Warm bread.

One of the things I’ve noticed since starting Cookbook Shelf is that I rarely cook just one recipe anymore. One recipe turns into two. Then another one catches my eye. Before I know it, I’m planning an entire meal because I want to understand how all the pieces fit together.

That’s probably my favorite part of cooking this way.

Years after leaving Turkey, one little packet of Urfa Biber sitting on a shelf in Chicago somehow brought me right back.

That’s one of the things I’m discovering with the Cookbook Shelf. A recipe isn’t just dinner. Sometimes it’s a place. Sometimes it’s a person. Sometimes it’s a memory you didn’t even realize was waiting for you.

Food has a funny way of doing that.

One cookbook, one recipe, and one memory at a time.

Turkish Rack of Lamb with Imam Bayıldı

Serves 4

Ingredients

Lamb

2 racks of lamb

Spice Rub

3 tbsp red pepper paste
2 tbsp tomato paste
2 tbsp Urfa Biber pepper flakes
1/2 tsp ground allspice
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/8 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tbsp olive oil
4–6 long red chili peppers (optional)

Method

Trim the racks of lamb, removing any silver skin. Pat dry and, using a sharp knife, make several shallow cuts across the meat.

In a small bowl, combine the red pepper paste, tomato paste, Urfa Biber, allspice, cumin, cloves, cinnamon, and olive oil. Rub the mixture all over the lamb, working it into the cuts. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

The next day, remove the lamb from the refrigerator and let it come to room temperature, about 45 minutes to 1 hour.

Preheat the grill. Wipe off any large pieces of the spice paste so they don’t burn. Grill the lamb, turning to sear all sides, until the internal temperature reaches 118–120°F (48–49°C) for medium-rare. If using the red chili peppers, grill them alongside the lamb until lightly charred.

Transfer the lamb to a cutting board and let it rest for about 15 minutes. The temperature will continue to rise about 5 degrees, finishing around 125°F (52°C) for medium-rare.

Slice into two-rib portions and serve with the Imam Bayıldı, grilled peppers, warm lavash, and garlic yogurt.

Note: I adapted the spice rub from the cookbook’s Pounded Lamb Chops recipe and used it on a rack of lamb.

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İmam Bayıldı (The Imam Fainted)

Serves 4

Ingredients

4 small Edirne eggplants
3 medium onions, thinly sliced
Olive oil
1/4 cup water
1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
4 garlic cloves, minced
2 plum tomatoes, seeded and diced
1/3 cup flat-leaf parsley, finely chopped
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper

Tomato Sauce

2 tbsp tomato paste
1 1/4 cups boiling water

Method

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).

Prick the eggplants all over with a fork. Rub lightly with olive oil and place on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Roast for about 45 minutes, or until nicely browned and very soft.

Increase the oven temperature to 425°F (220°C).

Meanwhile, prepare the filling.

Place the sliced onions in a large sauté pan with two generous pinches of salt. Using your hands, gently massage the salt into the onions until they begin to soften.

Add a generous drizzle of olive oil and the water. Cook over medium-low heat for about 5 minutes.

Add the sliced red pepper and garlic. Continue cooking, stirring occasionally, until the onions and peppers are very soft but not mushy, about 30 minutes.

Stir in the tomatoes and parsley. Cook just until the parsley turns bright green, then remove from the heat.

For the sauce, whisk together the tomato paste and boiling water until smooth.

Using a knife, carefully slit each eggplant from stem to tip without cutting all the way through. Gently press the flesh apart to create a pocket.

Divide the onion mixture evenly among the eggplants.

Arrange the stuffed eggplants in a shallow baking dish. Pour the tomato sauce around the eggplants, not over the tops.

Bake for about 30 minutes, until the filling is lightly charred and the sauce has reduced and thickened.

Let the eggplants rest for about 20 minutes before serving.

To serve: Place the eggplant on the plate with slices of the grilled lamb, warm lavash, garlic yogurt, and the charred peppers. Spoon some of the tomato sauce around the eggplant before serving.

Afiyet olsun! (Enjoy your meal!)

Years ago, I traveled to Turkey with my youngest son on an educational tour organized by his middle school teacher. There were ten of us altogether; six teenagers and four chaperones; and it remains one of the most memorable trips I’ve ever taken.

We began in Istanbul, staying in a boutique hotel in the heart of the old city. During the day we explored Old Istanbul. As part of the educational tour, we had a guide who led us to each place. Our guide shared the history of Turkey with such knowledge and pride that every street, monument, and neighborhood seemed to come alive. At night, I fell asleep listening to the calls to prayer drifting from the nearby mosques. It was an experience I carry with me to this day, and I can almost hear the soothing sound of it.

I fell in love with old Istanbul. It’s vibrant, welcoming, and full of life. We visited incredible places like the Blue Mosque and the Kariye Mosque, wandered through the Grand Bazaar, and spent an afternoon at the Çemberlitaş Hammam experiencing a traditional Turkish bath.

The Grand Bazaar was completely my kind of place. Stall after stall was filled with clothing, jewelry, ceramics, spices, teas, sweets, and every kind of treasure imaginable. I could have spent days wandering through it all.

Of course, one of the highlights was the food. That was my first real introduction to Turkish cuisine, and I was captivated. The spices, the array of fresh fruit and vegetables, the simple presentations, and the incredible depth of flavor left a lasting impression on me.

Making these Meatballs with Pumpkin & Spice Butter immediately brought me back to those memories. As I cooked, I reflected on my memories of Turkey and that trip. Remembering that trip with my son while making this meal made the experience even more meaningful. Sharing that adventure with him remains one of my most cherished memories. Food really does have a way of connecting us all.

It also felt like everything came full circle. One of the featured spices in this recipe is Urfa biber, a smoky Turkish pepper that I recently brought home after visiting The Spice House in Chicago. A spice that first became part of my travels through Turkey eventually found its way into my suitcase from Chicago and now into my kitchen in Luxembourg. Most of the cooking I do somehow connects to a cherished story.

For my version, I used two small Japanese pumpkins. I love them for their creamy texture and naturally buttery flavor, and they paired beautifully with the warm spices in the dish.

One technique, in particular, really stood out to me. Instead of mixing everything together by hand in a bowl, the ground meat is spread into a thin layer, then topped with the ground rice, onion, herbs, and spices before everything is chopped and folded together with a knife.

I’ve made countless meatballs over the years, always combining everything by hand, but this method was completely new to me. To my surprise, it produced some of the lightest, fluffiest, and most tender meatballs I’ve ever made. It’s a technique I’ll definitely use again.

The final touch is the browned spice butter drizzled over the roasted pumpkin and meatballs. It was absolutely sublime. The butter carried the flavors of the mint, Aleppo pepper, and Urfa biber, adding just the right finishing touch to bring the entire dish together.

This dish was comforting, full of flavor, and just a little different from what I usually make. More than that, it reminded me why I love cooking from the cookbooks I bring home from my travels. Every recipe has the potential to transport me back to a place, reconnect me with a memory, and create a few new ones along the way.

I hope you’ll give this one a try and enjoy it as much as I did.

Meatballs with Pumpkin and Spice Butter

Here’s my adapted version of the recipe I made at home.

Serves 4

Ingredients

For the Meatballs

1/2 cup baldo rice
1 lb ground lamb
1/4 cup onion, minced
2 tsp coarsely ground black pepper
1 tsp sea salt
1 tsp ground Urfa biber
1 tbsp dried basil
1 whole star anise, finely ground

For the Pumpkin

2 lbs Japanese pumpkin, peeled, seeded, and cut into bite-sized pieces
1/4 tsp sea salt
1 1/2 tbsp tomato paste
1 1/2 cups boiling water

For the Spice Butter

4 tbsp unsalted butter
1 1/2 tsp ground Urfa biber
1 1/2 tsp dried basil
1/2 tsp ground star anise

For Serving

Garlic yogurt

Method

Prepare the Meatballs

Place the rice in a bowl and cover with water. Stir well, then drain through a sieve. Repeat until the water runs clear. Cover the rice again with room-temperature water and let it soak for 1 1/2 hours.

Combine the salt, pepper, dried basil, ground Urfa biber, and ground star anise in a small bowl.

Drain the rice and grind it in a mortar and pestle until it resembles the texture of kosher salt.

Spread the ground lamb into a thin rectangle on a cutting board. Evenly scatter the ground rice over the meat, followed by the minced onion and the herb and spice mixture.

Using a chef’s knife, chop across the rectangle from top to bottom. Turn the cutting board so the short side faces you and chop across the meat again. Return the board to its original position and use the knife to fold one side of the meat toward the center, then fold the opposite side over it. Repeat the chopping and folding process until the ingredients are evenly incorporated.

Transfer the mixture to a bowl. Using your hands, lightly roll the mixture into meatballs. You should have about 26 meatballs.

Cook the Meatballs and Pumpkin

Place the pumpkin in a saucepan and season with the salt. Add the meatballs.

Stir together the tomato paste and boiling water until smooth, then pour over the pumpkin and meatballs.

Bring to a boil, cover, and reduce the heat to a simmer. Cook for about 30 minutes, or until the pumpkin is tender and the meatballs are cooked through.

There should be a small amount of thickened sauce remaining. If the sauce is still thin, uncover the pan and continue cooking until it has reduced and thickened.

Make the Spice Butter

Melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium-low heat. When the butter is fully melted and bubbling, add the Urfa biber, dried basil, and ground star anise. Stir as the spices sizzle.

Continue cooking over low heat for another few minutes, until the butter is browned and smells nutty.

To Serve

Transfer the meatballs, pumpkin, and sauce to a serving dish. Drizzle the spice butter over the top and garnish with garlic yogurt. Serve immediately.

Food connects us all.

Returning to Luxembourg after my visit to the U.S., I couldn’t stop thinking about a dinner I shared with friends at La Notte in Oak Park, Illinois. It felt almost serendipitous that my last blog post was inspired by memories of Rome, and this one brings together those same memories with my recent visit to Chicago and the years I spent living in Oak Park.

Like Rome, Oak Park, in it’s own smaller way, has a rich history. Just west of downtown Chicago, it’s known for Frank Lloyd Wright’s home and studio and as the birthplace of Ernest Hemingway. Visitors come from around the world to experience its architecture and literary history. But for me, it’s also a place filled with friendships and memories that have stayed with me long after I moved away.

At dinner, I ordered Eight Finger Cavatelli with house-made sausage, garlic, and rapini. I enjoyed it so much that I came home determined to recreate it in my own kitchen.

Rather than trying to duplicate the dish exactly, I turned to Roads to Rome for inspiration. The cookbook’s Cacio e Pepe recipe uses the traditional technique of emulsifying Pecorino Romano with hot pasta water in a warm metal bowl. I loved the method and used it as the foundation for my own version. Instead of the traditional tonnarelli, I chose homemade cavatelli because its ridges and elongated shape do such a wonderful job of catching the silky cheese sauce. I then added browned sausage, golden slivered garlic, a drizzle of garlic-infused olive oil, and a generous sprinkle of Grana Padano. It isn’t a traditional Cacio e Pepe, but I enjoyed bringing together inspiration from different regions of Italy to create this dish. Served with garlic bread and a glass of red wine, it was everything I had hoped it would be.

I enjoy discovering recipes, learning new techniques, and then making them my own. Sometimes that means bringing together ideas from different places and different memories to create something entirely new.

It was also my first time making cavatelli. Like every pasta I’ve made since moving to Luxembourg, it became another lesson in adapting to European flour. This dough, made with semolina and water, took some experimentation before I found the right hydration, but once it came together, rolling the ropes and shaping each piece was almost zen-like. They weren’t all perfect, but they didn’t have to be.

As much as I appreciated the meal at La Notte, it was only part of what made the evening memorable. The best part was spending time with friends, catching up, sharing stories, and creating new memories around the table.

That’s what I love most about food. It has a remarkable way of connecting places, people, and moments in our lives.

Food is the root from which everything grows.

Eight Finger Cavatelli Cacio e Pepe with Sausage and Garlic

Inspired by the Eight Finger Cavatelli at La Notte in Oak Park, Illinois, this recipe combines homemade cavatelli with the cacio e pepe technique from Roads to Rome. Finished with Italian sausage, golden garlic, and Grana Padano, it’s my interpretation of a memorable meal shared with friends.

Serves 4

Eight Finger Cavatelli

Ingredients:

300 g semolina (400 g if using European semolina)
175 ml water

Method:

Mix the semolina and water in a bowl until the dough comes together. Add more water, one teaspoon at a time, if necessary. Turn the dough onto a work surface and knead for about 10 minutes, or until smooth. Wrap tightly in plastic wrap and let rest for 1 hour.

Cut off a small piece of dough and roll it into a long rope about the width of your finger. Cut the rope into 2-inch pieces. Using both hands, pull each piece toward you to create the traditional cavatelli crevice. Place the shaped pasta on a lightly semolina-dusted tray. Let the cavatelli rest for 1 to 2 hours before cooking.

Cacio e Pepe with Sausage and Garlic

Ingredients:

4 to 6 oz aged Pecorino Romano, finely grated
2 oz Grana Padano, finely grated
1 lb fresh cavatelli
6 Italian sausage links, casings removed and cut into bite-sized pieces
4 garlic cloves, thinly slivered
Olive oil, if needed
Freshly ground black pepper

Method:

Heat a large sauté pan over medium-high heat. Add the sausage and cook until browned and cooked through, breaking it into bite-sized pieces as it cooks. Remove the sausage from the pan, leaving the rendered fat behind.

If needed, add a drizzle of olive oil to the pan. Reduce the heat to medium, add the slivered garlic, and cook until lightly golden. Remove the garlic from the pan and reserve both the garlic and the infused oil.

Place the grated Pecorino Romano in a warm metal mixing bowl.

Bring a large pot of generously salted water to a boil. Add the cavatelli and cook until they float and are al dente. Reserve 1 cup of the pasta cooking water before draining.

Add the hot pasta to the bowl with the Pecorino and toss immediately. Gradually add the reserved pasta water, stirring constantly, until the cheese melts and forms a smooth, creamy emulsion. Season generously with freshly ground black pepper and add additional pasta water as needed to reach your desired consistency.

Divide the pasta among serving plates. Top with the browned sausage and golden garlic, drizzle with the reserved garlic-infused oil, and finish with a generous sprinkle of Grana Padano. Serve immediately.

Inspired by The Roads to Rome by Jarrett Wrisley & Paolo Vitaletti

I have a soft spot for Italy.

So far I’ve explored Milan, Florence, Lucca, Pisa, Siena, and Rome, and every visit leaves me wanting to go back. The landscapes of northern and central Italy always remind me a little of the Pacific Northwest, where I lived before moving to Luxembourg. Rolling hills, winding roads, vineyards, forests…it’s a place that feels both familiar and completely different at the same time.

If you ask me the best way to experience Italy, I’d say rent a car. Some of my favorite memories are simply driving through Tuscany.

For my 60th birthday, Paul and I finally made it to Rome.

We stayed in the Monti neighborhood, which quickly became one of my favorite parts of the city. It is one of Rome’s historic neighborhoods and has an eclectic, lived-in feel with boutique shops, little wine bars, family-run restaurants, and streets made for wandering. Of course we visited the Vatican, the Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain, and even the Bocca della Verità, but some of my favorite moments happened in between. Walking streets that have existed for centuries was awe-inspiring and irresistible.

Whenever I travel, there are two places I always try to find: a market and a bookstore.

In Rome, that meant Mercato Testaccio.

Markets have become one of the threads that tie my travels together. Every one is different, but they’re all full of life. Vendors greeting regular customers, stalls filled with local produce, cheeses, meats, spices, handmade goods, and food that begs you to stop and eat.

We wandered through the market, bought a few handmade leather bags from Massimo at Il Baratto that became Christmas gifts for family, and eventually settled on Casa Manco. Pizza by the slice, a glass of wine, warm sunshine, and people watching from an outdoor table.

Although it’s just one memory, that simple meal has stayed with me. That’s the gift of a market. People sharing their craft or their food, creating moments of fulfillment that become memories for a lifetime.

While we were in Rome, and really, everywhere we travel, we leaned toward traditional restaurants, often run by local families, rather than fine dining. That’s usually how we travel. I certainly enjoy a fine dining experience every now and then, but what I’m really looking for is everyday life. The places locals gather, the food families have been making for generations, and the feeling that you’ve stepped into someone’s neighborhood.

One evening we found exactly that at La Taverna dei Fori Imperiali in Monti.

We shared Jewish-style artichokes, Carbonara Vignarola, Cacio e Pepe, grilled lamb, veal saltimbocca, and the dessert of the day. By the end of dinner we were completely stuffed, wonderfully happy, and somehow felt as though we’d been welcomed into someone’s home.

When it came time to cook from The Roads to Rome, Pappardelle al Ragù d’Anatra immediately caught my eye.

I’ve always loved pappardelle. Those wide ribbons are perfect for hearty ragùs, and the addition of fresh fava beans reminded me just a little of the Carbonara Vignarola we had enjoyed in Rome. I also rarely cook duck this way. Usually I’m searing duck breasts and serving them medium-rare, so slowly transforming them into a rich ragù sounded like something worth trying.

Making the dish taught me a few things.

The pasta dough recipe in the cookbook didn’t quite work for me. The ratio of eggs to flour felt off, so I went back to my trusted fresh pasta recipe using a combination of Tipo “00” flour and semolina with whole eggs and extra yolks. It came together beautifully.

One step I particularly appreciated was hand-mincing the duck breast, including the fat. It takes a little more time than using ground duck or a food processor, but it creates a wonderful texture and allows the fat to slowly melt into the sauce as it cooks.

If I make the ragù again, I’d probably hold back about a quarter of the stock and add it only if needed. Mine took considerably longer than the recipe suggested to reduce and thicken, although the extra time was well worth the wait.

The finished dish was outstanding.

The ragù developed a deep, rich duck flavor layered with subtle warmth from the cinnamon and star anise. Bright green fava beans added freshness, color, and just enough texture to balance the richness. The pappardelle absorbed every bit of that flavorful sauce, making each bite deeply satisfying.

It’s absolutely a recipe I’ll make again.

One of the things I love most about cooking from the cookbooks I collect is how a single meal can transport me back to a place. Sitting at my kitchen table in Luxembourg, a bowl of pappardelle in front of me, I could almost picture the streets of Monti again! The cafés, the market, the bookstore, and the feeling of wandering through Rome with nowhere particular to be.

That’s what makes travel cookbooks so special to me. They’re not just recipes.

They reinforce memories.

Pappardelle al Ragù d’Anatra

Serves 4

Pappardelle Pasta

The dish has two components: fresh pappardelle and a slow-simmered duck ragù. Both are straightforward and well worth the effort.

Ingredients

400 g 00 flour
100 g semolina flour (optional)
4 whole eggs
4 egg yolks

Method

Combine the 00 flour and semolina, if using, then dump it onto a clean countertop. Make a well in the center of the flour, ensuring the walls are high enough to hold the eggs.

Crack the whole eggs and egg yolks into the well. Using a fork, gently whisk the eggs while slowly incorporating flour from the inside of the well until the mixture is no longer runny.

Once a shaggy dough begins to form, bring it together with your hands and knead briefly. At this point, I transfer the dough to a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook and knead on low speed for about 10 minutes.

Remove the dough and shape it into a smooth ball. Do the finger test by lightly pressing a dent into the dough. If it springs back, it’s ready. If not, return it to the mixer and knead for a few more minutes.

If the dough feels dry, whisk an additional egg and add a little at a time until the dough is smooth, glossy, and passes the finger test.

Wrap loosely in plastic wrap and let the dough rest for at least 1 hour.

Cut the dough into four equal pieces and shape each piece into a rectangle.

Using a pasta machine, roll each piece through setting #2 twice, then once each through settings #3, #4, #5, and finally #6.

Lightly flour a tray or countertop. Lay the pasta sheets flat, cover loosely with plastic wrap, and let them rest for about 10 minutes.

Roll each sheet into a loose cylinder and cut into strips about ¾ to 1 inch wide. Dust lightly with flour and place on a tray until ready to cook.

Bring a large pot of generously salted water to a boil. Cook the pasta until al dente.Ragù d’Anatra

Ragù d’Anatra

Ingredients

1½ lbs duck breasts, skin and fat included
Olive oil
½ cinnamon stick
1 star anise
2 whole cloves
½ tsp ground ginger
1 tsp paprika
Zest of 1 lemon
2 bay leaves
⅓ cup finely diced carrot
⅓ cup finely diced onion
⅓ cup finely diced celery
1 cup dry white wine
1 quart duck stock (or substitute chicken stock)
5 oz fava beans, lightly blanched
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Fresh thyme leaves
Smoked ricotta salata or parmesan cheese, for serving

Method

Slice and dice the duck breasts, including the skin and fat. Spread the meat out on a cutting board and mince it by repeatedly chopping across the meat both lengthwise and crosswise until finely minced.

Heat a heavy saucepan or large skillet over medium-high heat. Add a drizzle of olive oil, followed by the minced duck.

Add the cinnamon stick, star anise, cloves, ground ginger, paprika, lemon zest, and bay leaves. Cook until the moisture has evaporated and the duck has browned and caramelized. You want deep color without burning the meat.

Reduce the heat to medium-low and add the carrot, onion, and celery. Cook slowly for 15–20 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are soft and lightly caramelized.

Pour in the white wine and reduce by about half.

Add about two-thirds of the duck stock and season lightly with salt. Remember that as the liquid reduces, the flavors will concentrate, so avoid over-salting at this stage.

Bring the ragù to a boil, then reduce to a gentle simmer. Cook for about 2 hours, stirring occasionally, until the ragù has thickened. If it reduces too quickly, add additional stock as needed. Depending on your pan and the moisture in the duck, the ragù may need another 30–60 minutes to reach the proper consistency.

Remove and discard the cinnamon stick, star anise, cloves, and bay leaves. Season with salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste.

Add the cooked pappardelle, the blanched fava beans, and just enough pasta water to help the sauce coat the pasta. Toss over medium heat for 1–2 minutes until the sauce clings to the pasta. Be careful not to overcook the pasta or the fava beans.

Transfer to a serving platter or individual bowls. Sprinkle with fresh thyme leaves and finish with smoked ricotta salata or freshly grated Parmesan.

Serve immediately.

While visiting Greece, it’s hard not to be drawn to the sea. Whether you’re on the mainland or one of the islands, the coast has a way of inviting you to slow down. Spending a day at the beach, soaking up the sun and listening to the waves, is one of the best ways to connect with the country. The Mediterranean sparkles in a way that’s hard to describe until you’ve seen it for yourself. The water is cool, the breeze is soothing, and time seems to move a little more slowly.

When we visited Rhodes, we spent quite a bit of time exploring the coast. One day we drove down to Prasonisi where the windsurfers and kite-surfers seemed to cover the water. At times it looked like they were all headed straight for each other, and I kept wondering how they didn’t collide. Somehow they always managed to miss one another. It was quite a sight to watch.

We also spent time at Afantou Beach and Anthony Quinn Bay. As we drove, we passed goats wandering along the roadside and small market stands selling local honey, fruit, vegetables, and baklava.

One of my favorite memories was taking the ferry from Rhodes to Symi. As we approached the harbor, the colorful houses came into view and we were awestruck. We spent the day wandering through town, stopping for lunch, exploring side streets, and simply enjoying being there. Like so many places in Greece, it felt both busy and relaxed at the same time.

After a day in Symi, we returned to Rhodes and headed into the old town for dinner. We ended up at Mama Sofia’s near the Clock Tower where we shared mussels saganaki, a traditional Greek salad, and plenty of pita bread. After a full day exploring and being on the water, it was exactly the kind of meal we were hoping for.

Some of our favorite meals were along the Afantou coast at Limanaki Seafood Restaurant. Sitting on the terrace overlooking the sea, we enjoyed queen scallops with a citrusy olive oil and lime sauce along with their traditional beetroot salad.

One of the things I enjoyed most about Greece was how naturally the food and the surroundings seemed to go together. A day at the beach, a ferry ride to a nearby island, or a walk through an old town often ended at a coastal restaurant overlooking the water. Fresh fish and seafood were everywhere, often caught that same day and prepared simply. Add a glass of local wine, good conversation, and maybe a little ouzo, and it was hard to ask for much more.

The slight licorice note from the ouzo adds an unexpected layer of flavor that works beautifully with the mussels and seafood broth.

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect from the ouzo, but it ended up being one of the flavors that made the dish memorable.

Ouzo isn’t just for raising a glass and shouting “Opa!” It brings a subtle depth to the dish that balances the richness of the mussels and the creaminess of the orzo.

The taste of the sea from the mussels, the saffron, the touch of licorice from the ouzo, the crunch of the fennel fronds, and the creamy texture of the orzo all come together in a meal that feels connected to the Greek coast. As I sat down to enjoy it in Luxembourg, it was easy to think back to Rhodes, Symi, and afternoons spent beside the Mediterranean.

Manestra (Orzo) with Mussels, Saffron, and Ouzo

Serves 4

Ingredients:

2 lbs fresh mussels in shells
Olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, chopped
2 bay leaves
Pinch of saffron threads
8 black peppercorns
8 cherry tomatoes, halved
2 to 3 fennel sprigs
6 oz ouzo, or dry white wine with star anise
32 oz chicken stock, heated

For the Orzo:

Olive oil
12 oz orzo
1 medium onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1/2 red bell pepper, diced
1/4 cup fennel fronds, chopped
Ground black pepper, to taste

Method:

Clean the mussels thoroughly and remove the beards. Discard any mussels with broken shells. Grind the saffron threads in a mortar, add 2 tablespoons of water, and let bloom for 15 minutes.

Heat a deep pot over medium-high heat and add olive oil. Add the onion and sauté until translucent. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add the saffron water, bay leaves, and peppercorns, and stir to combine.

Stir in the tomatoes and fennel sprigs, then add the ouzo and hot stock. Cover and bring to a boil. Add the mussels, cover, and cook until the mussels open, about 5 minutes.

Remove the mussels from the broth and discard any that have not opened. Strain the cooking liquid and keep warm. Set aside about a dozen of the nicer mussels in their shells for garnish.

Remove the remaining mussels from their shells and set aside.

Place a saucepan with a lid over medium-high heat. Add olive oil and the orzo. Stir and toast the orzo until slightly golden. Using a slotted spoon, remove the orzo from the pan and set aside.

Return the pan to the heat and add more olive oil. Sauté the onion until translucent, then add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 2 to 3 minutes. Add the red bell pepper and stir to combine. Add the toasted orzo back to the pan.

Add 32 oz of the reserved mussel broth and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce the heat to low, and simmer for about 15 minutes, or until most of the liquid is absorbed and the orzo is tender.

Add the shelled mussels and fennel fronds. Season to taste with black pepper. Transfer to a serving bowl and garnish with the reserved mussels in their shells and a few chopped fennel fronds. Drizzle with a little olive oil and serve.

As I revisit my memories of Shoreditch and Brick Lane, my mind always goes back to the vibrant, unique, and colorful street art. As someone who loves to walk and look around wherever I go, this neighborhood became one of my favorite parts of London.

When I first headed out on my own, I lived in a diverse and eclectic neighborhood in Chicago. Looking back, I think that is part of why I loved living in the Pacific Northwest and why I enjoy living in Luxembourg today. I like places where different cultures, traditions, and perspectives come together.

When you walk through Shoreditch and Brick Lane, nearly every street has something interesting to see. There is everything from traditional graffiti to massive murals. Some are painted by unknown artists and others by artists as famous as Banksy. The street art helps define the neighborhood beyond the food.

Actually, both help define it.

Different cultures, different voices, different histories, and different traditions all sharing the same streets.

Brick Lane’s food culture begins, and is still shaped, by generations of immigrants who brought their own recipes, traditions, and inspiration with them. If I had to describe Brick Lane in one sentence, it would be this: the vibrant colors and creativity of the street art spill from the walls and onto the plate.

This time, I chose a recipe from The Brick Lane Cookbook that felt like it represented the modern neighborhood. Brick Lane has a strong Bangladeshi community and the food reflects it.

One restaurant that stood out was City Spice. Our meal there was superb and really highlighted the flavors and depth of Bangladeshi cuisine. The Lamb Tikka Makhani, with its fenugreek flavors, stood out, as did the Chicken Tikka Masala, which was sweet, rich, and velvety.

As I looked through the cookbook, I came across Homestyle Lamb and Potato Curry. It felt like the right recipe to make after the Salt Beef. Just as the street art reflects the many influences that have shaped Shoreditch and Brick Lane, so does the food.

I made a few changes along the way. I used leg of lamb instead of lamb shoulder. Since leg of lamb is leaner, I browned the meat first to help keep it moist and add a little extra flavor. I also added the leg bone to the pot while the curry simmered and removed it before serving. It added even more lamb flavor to the dish and was well worth it.

I also used my own homemade garam masala. I enjoy making my own spice blends. I think they add more depth and freshness to a dish, but they also help me connect to the traditions behind the food I am making.

The aromas that filled the kitchen while this curry simmered were mouthwatering. Warm spices, tender lamb, and potatoes slowly cooking together. This is the kind of dish that makes you want to grab a bowl and settle in for the evening.

True comfort food.

It warmed both our bellies and our hearts.

Home-Style Lamb and Potato Curry

Serves 4

Ingredients

4 to 6 garlic cloves
2 to 3 inch piece fresh ginger, roughly chopped
1 kg leg of lamb or lamb shoulder, cut into 2 inch cubes
If using a leg of lamb, reserve the bone and cook it with the curry for extra flavor. Remove before serving.
2 medium onions, sliced
1 bay leaf
1 cinnamon stick
6 peppercorns
4 cardamom pods
4 cloves
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
1 star anise
2 teaspoons salt
5 tablespoons canola oil
1 tablespoon ground coriander
2 teaspoons ground turmeric
2 teaspoons ground cumin
2 teaspoons ancho chili powder
2 teaspoons paprika
1 teaspoon garam masala
1 tomato, chopped
700 g potatoes, peeled and quartered
3 to 4 green chilis
3 tablespoons fresh coriander, chopped
100 ml water, plus additional as needed

Method

Using a mortar and pestle, grind the garlic and ginger into a paste. Set aside.

Heat a large Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium high heat. Brown the lamb in batches, making sure not to overcrowd the pan. Once browned, return all of the lamb to the pot. If using the lamb bone, add it now. Cook’s Note: I cooked the curry with the lamb leg bone for extra flavor and removed it before serving.

Add the garlic and ginger paste, onions, bay leaf, cinnamon stick, peppercorns, cardamom pods, cloves, mustard seeds, star anise, and salt. Cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Cover the pot and simmer for 30 minutes.

Remove the lid and increase the heat slightly. Add the oil and stir to coat everything. Add the ground coriander, turmeric, cumin, ancho chili powder, paprika, and garam masala. Stir well and cook for a few minutes until fragrant.

Add the chopped tomato and 100 ml water. Cover and cook over medium heat for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add a little more water if the mixture becomes too dry.

Add the potatoes and green chilis and cook for 5 minutes. Pour in enough water to just cover the meat and potatoes. Rather than stirring, gently shake the pot to combine so the meat and potatoes stay coated in the spices.

Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium low. Cover and simmer for about 20 minutes, or until the potatoes are fork tender.

Taste and adjust the seasoning if needed. Stir in the chopped coriander.

Remove the lamb bone if using. Serve hot.

When I think of Greece, I don’t immediately think of the beaches, although they are beautiful, or even the blue waters of the Mediterranean. What comes to mind first is the feeling of being there. The warmth of the people, long meals shared outdoors, and a sense that life slows down just enough for you to notice the things around you.

I’ve been fortunate to visit several places in Greece, both on the mainland and the islands. I’ve wandered through ancient sites in Athens, explored the old streets of Rhodes, and climbed the many steps in Santorini while stopping every few minutes to admire the breathtaking views. Every place felt different, but they all shared something in common. There was a feeling of connection. To history, to family, to food, and to the people around you. Greek people are joyous and welcoming. You feel like part of the family. It’s all about “Opa!”

Some destinations are wonderful to visit. Greece is one of the few places where I’ve found myself thinking, “I could stay here.”

And then there’s the food.

Greek food is some of my favorite kind of cooking. It’s not complicated or fussy, yet it can be elegant. It takes simple ingredients and turns them into something rewarding. From moussaka and stifado to fresh seafood, vegetables cooked with olive oil, and dishes that have been passed from one generation to the next, Greek food feels deeply connected to home and family.

One afternoon on Rhodes, after a morning of exploring the old town, we found ourselves sitting in a shaded plaza at Ta Mezeklikia’s. We ordered a mixed platter for two that included moussaka, gemista, stifado, and dolmadakia. Around us were old stone streets, trees shading us from the summer heat, and a few sleepy cats stretched out nearby, completely unconcerned with the world around them. It wasn’t a fancy meal, but it was one of those afternoons that stays with you long after the trip is over.

Looking back, I think it wasn’t just the food. It was the combination of everything. The shade of the trees, the slow pace of the afternoon, the conversation, and the feeling that nowhere else in the world needed your attention at that moment. Greece has a way of slowing you down and reminding you to enjoy where you are.

So when I came across gemista in Salt of the Earth, I felt like it represented my experience well. Beyond the ingredients, gemista is a slow roasted dish. It takes patience as the aromas of tomatoes, herbs, and vegetables slowly fill the kitchen while it bakes.

It allows time to slow down, enjoy your surroundings, and appreciate those around you.

Family.

As I hollowed out the vegetables, stirred the rice filling, and filled my kitchen with those familiar aromas, I found myself back in Rhodes for a little while.

That’s one of the things I love about cooking through these cookbooks. A recipe has a way of bringing back not just a meal, but the memories, the people, and the places connected to it.

There were a few things I adjusted in the recipe. I used small globe zucchini because I felt they fit better with the shapes of the other stuffed vegetables. I also used my homemade roasted garlic and thyme infused olive oil and added a little extra vegetable stock to the pan while everything slowly roasted.

Overall, this dish was hearty while still feeling light. All of the flavors came together beautifully, especially the mint. It added a brightness that lifted both the vegetables and the tomato sauce. The feta and breadcrumbs rounded everything out. The breadcrumbs, along with the Carolina rice, added texture and a slight bite that I really enjoyed. The potatoes soaked up the tomato and mint flavors and provided a creamy contrast to the other vegetables. The infused olive oil added another layer of herbal flavor and just enough richness to bring the dish together.

All of it came together beautifully. The flavors, the memories, and the feeling of Greece that first drew me in years ago. For an afternoon, my apartment in Luxembourg felt a little more like a shaded plaza in Rhodes.

Gemista

Serves 6 to 8

Ingredients

Vegetables

4 medium ripe tomatoes
2 medium green bell peppers
1 red bell pepper
1 medium eggplant
2 globe zucchini
3 medium potatoes, quartered
1/4 cup fresh breadcrumbs
Salt and pepper, to taste

For the Stuffing

5 oz Carolina white rice
Olive oil
1 large onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1 medium carrot, grated
3/4 tsp dried oregano
1 handful parsley, chopped
1 handful mint, chopped

For the Sauce

5 oz ripe tomatoes
Olive oil
1/2 tsp dried oregano
3½ oz water
Salt and pepper, to taste

Method

Preheat the oven to 400°F (200°C).

Slice off the tops of the vegetables, keeping the tops to use as lids. Scoop out the insides of the vegetables. Set aside the tomato flesh. Set aside the eggplant and zucchini flesh.

Finely chop the zucchini and eggplant flesh and place in a bowl. Put the tomato flesh in a blender and puree until smooth. You will need 12 oz of tomato pulp. If you do not have enough, add canned chopped tomatoes.

Rinse the rice under cold water until the water runs clear. Set aside.

In a saucepan over medium high heat, sauté the onion in olive oil. Once the onion is translucent, add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 3 minutes.

Add the zucchini, eggplant, and grated carrot and stir to combine. Add the rice and toss well to coat. Cook for 1 to 2 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.

Add the tomato pulp and cook for another 2 minutes. Add 3½ oz water, stir, and cook for 10 to 12 minutes until the liquid is absorbed. The mixture should resemble a creamy risotto. Remove from the heat and stir in the oregano, parsley, and mint.

While the rice is cooking, prepare the sauce. Place the tomatoes in a blender with olive oil and 3½ oz water. Blend until smooth. Season with salt and pepper and stir in the oregano. Set aside.

Coat a casserole dish with olive oil. Fill each vegetable with the rice mixture, place the lids on top, and arrange them in the casserole dish. Nestle the potatoes around the vegetables.

Pour the tomato sauce over and around the vegetables. Sprinkle the breadcrumbs evenly over the top.

Bake on the lowest rack of the oven for 1½ hours, until the tops are lightly charred and caramelized. If the sauce begins to dry out too quickly, add a little vegetable stock as needed. The sauce should be thick by the end of baking.

Remove from the oven and let rest for 15 to 20 minutes before serving to allow the flavors to come together. Garnish with feta cheese crumbles and mint.

Enjoy. 🇬🇷🍅

London is a short flight away from Luxembourg and, from time to time, my husband’s work takes him there for a few days. When possible, I tag along.

Beyond the historic and iconic sites, the heart of London is really in its neighborhoods. Like any great city, that’s where you discover the real feel of daily life.

I’ve always been drawn to eclectic neighborhoods. My first apartment in Chicago was in Lakeview, and I loved it. Ever since then, I’ve been the person who wanders side streets, pokes around bookstores, browses local shops and markets, and looks for the places where people actually live their daily lives. Shoreditch has that same kind of energy, which is probably why I keep going back.

The first time I wandered down Brick Lane, I knew I would return again and again. The street is filled with independent shops, thrift stores, restaurants, food trucks, market stalls, the famous Sunday market, and some of the most incredible street art I’ve seen anywhere. Since our hotel is usually within walking distance, I spend a lot of time exploring the neighborhood, trying food from market vendors, and simply wandering.

On one visit, I wandered into the lovely Brick Lane Bookshop and discovered Brick Lane by Dina Begum. It only took a quick flip through the pages to know this cookbook was coming home with me.

Today I’m sharing one of my favorite recipes from the book: Salt Beef.

I am half Irish and half Luxembourgish, and for years I made corned beef every March as part of an Irish American Saint Paddy’s Day tradition. Since moving to Luxembourg, I’ve missed making it. Beef cuts are different here, and finding a brisket isn’t always easy.

Recently, I discovered MeatBros and finally found my first brisket in Luxembourg. Saint Patrick’s Day had already passed, but that seemed like the perfect excuse to give the Salt Beef recipe a try.

I’ve always loved a good Jewish deli. Bagels, pastrami, kosher pickles, and mustard are hard to beat. This recipe is inspired by the iconic Brick Lane Beigel Shop. Brick Lane was once home to a large Jewish community, and while the neighborhood has changed over the years, a few Jewish establishments still remain.

Authentic bagels can be hard to find in Luxembourg too. I’m just getting started with a new sourdough starter, gifted by a friend. That’s how the sourdough community works. So bagels and bialys may be in my future.

Once the salt beef was finished, I needed something worthy to serve it on. I took a short drive across the border to Café Louis Besch in Perl, Germany, where I buy traditional rye bread. While I was there, I couldn’t resist picking up a few pretzel rolls. They turned out to be the perfect choice for the salt beef.

The hardest part of this recipe was the wait. The brisket cures for seven days, and I checked on it far more often than necessary. Seven days can feel like forever when you’re excited about a recipe.

The wait was worth it. After being gently braised with vegetables, the beef becomes tender, moist, and full of flavor.

I served it on pretzel rolls with mustard, quick pickled red onions, and homemade shoestring potatoes.

Every bite reminded me of wandering the streets of Brick Lane.

Salt Beef

Serves 8

For the Brine

300 g dark brown sugar
300 g kosher salt or coarse sea salt
2 tablespoons black peppercorns
2 teaspoons juniper berries
1 tablespoon coriander seeds
3 bay leaves
5 sprigs thyme
1 tablespoon mustard seeds
50 g saltpetre or curing salt
1 teaspoon chili flakes

For the Braise

2.5 kg beef brisket
1 large carrot, cut into chunks
1 leek, cut into chunks
2 celery stalks, cut into chunks
1 onion, cut into chunks
6 garlic cloves
Handful of parsley stalks

Method

In a large saucepan, combine all of the brine ingredients with 3 liters of water. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer gently until the salt and sugar have dissolved. Remove from the heat and allow the brine to cool completely.

Trim any silver skin from the brisket. Using a knife or skewer, pierce the brisket all over.

Place the brisket in a large casserole dish or nonreactive container and pour the cooled brine over it. The meat should be completely submerged. If necessary, place a plate or weight on top to keep it beneath the surface. Cover and refrigerate for 7 days.

After 7 days, remove the brisket from the brine and rinse it thoroughly under cold water.

Place the brisket in a large stockpot along with the carrot, leek, celery, onion, garlic, and parsley stalks. Add enough water to just cover the brisket.

Bring to a gentle simmer and cook for about 2½ hours, or until the beef is tender.

Remove the pot from the heat and allow the brisket to cool in the broth.

Remove the brisket and slice for sandwiches, or refrigerate until ready to serve.

The salt beef will keep in the refrigerator for up to 1 week.

Serving suggestion: Serve on pretzel rolls or rye bread with mustard, quick pickled red onions, and homemade shoestring potatoes.

I have so many memories from visiting Paris, but there are certain places and neighborhoods I always return to. Every arrondissement has its own mood, and walking through the city can feel like stepping into entirely different versions of Paris within a few streets.

During a trip for our son and daughter-in-law’s engagement photos, we spent the afternoon wandering through Marché des Enfants Rouges in the 3rd arrondissement before ending the evening at Le Perchoir Ménilmontant in the 11th, a hidden rooftop bar our daughter-in-law found while planning the trip. The market felt busy and historic while the rooftop bar felt modern and relaxed. Completely different moods, but somehow both are still very Paris.

On another visit, we had lunch at Au Cochon à l’Oreille in the 1st arrondissement where I ordered suprême de poulet avec ratatouille. The neighborhood felt like classic Paris to me. Old streets, bistros, cafés, and people lingering over lunch. The meal was simple, comforting, and exactly the kind of French cooking I always remember long after the trip is over.

While making the Poulet Basquaise with Butter Rice from Paris Picnic Club, that lunch came back to me. The dish feels like a modern take on the same kind of classic French comfort food. Rustic and satisfying, but fresh and bright from the tomatoes and peppers. I substituted ancho pepper for the traditional Espelette pepper, which gave the dish a little spice and a deeper chili flavor. I cut up a whole chicken for the recipe and saved the backbone and wing tips for stock later. That’s my kind of home cooking. Nothing wasted and everything used.

Poulet Basquaise with Butter Rice

Serves 4

Ingredients

Chicken

1 whole bio chicken (3 to 3½ lbs), cut into 4 pieces
salt and pepper
2 tsp ancho chili powder
2 lbs plum tomatoes
olive oil
2 onions, thinly sliced
2 red bell peppers, thinly sliced
1 yellow bell pepper, thinly sliced
5 cloves garlic, minced
2 bay leaves
¼ cup kalamata olives, pitted

Butter Rice

olive oil
3 tbsp butter
¼ cup onion, diced
1 cup basmati rice
12 ounces duck or chicken stock
½ tsp salt

Method

Chicken

Season the chicken well with salt and pepper.

Score the bottom of the tomatoes with an X. Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add the tomatoes for about 1 minute, or until the skin begins to loosen around the cuts. Transfer immediately to an ice bath. Peel and roughly chop the tomatoes.

Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium high heat. Place the chicken pieces skin side down and brown well on both sides. Work in batches if necessary so the pan is not crowded. Remove the chicken and set aside.

Add a little more olive oil if needed. Reduce heat to medium and add the onions and peppers. Sauté for a few minutes, then add the garlic, bay leaves, and ancho chili powder. Cook until softened, about 10 minutes.

Add the chopped tomatoes and simmer for another 10 minutes.

Return the chicken to the pan skin side up and add the olives. Cover and simmer for about 20 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked through.

Serve with butter rice.

Butter Rice

Heat a saucepan over medium high heat. Add a little olive oil and the butter. Add the diced onion and cook until translucent.

Add the rice and stir constantly for a few minutes until the grains begin to look slightly translucent around the edges. Stir in the salt.

Pour in the stock and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat to low, and simmer for about 18 minutes, or until the liquid is absorbed.

Let the rice rest for 3 to 5 minutes, then fluff with a fork and serve alongside the chicken.