When I was growing up, I was fascinated by everything that went on in the kitchen. I hovered at my mother’s elbow, trying to get a better look. I asked every two…
Author: emiglia
A la bolognaise
It’s incredible what a difference a year makes. A year ago, I was in Paziols, but the similarities end there. A year ago, Alex and I weren’t together. A year ago, I…
Burek
“I don’t have a home.” An oft-uttered phrase, at least for me, for whom it’s fairly true. It follows, naturally, that I don’t feel homesick. Or at least, I shouldn’t. That’s not…
Shrimp with Mint Pesto and Sweet Pea Risotto
I eat fish on Fridays. I don’t go to church (except on Christmas, Easter, or if for some reason I’m feeling particularly devout). I don’t say evening prayers. I don’t go to…
Mediterranean Vegetable-Cheese Pie
“And it’s so healthy!” My father exclaims, digging into a huge bowlful of salad. My siblings and I are used to these conversations. I twirl another forkful of spaghetti and my sister…
Le Quignon
For my father, the worst possible thing that could happen to any of his daughers would be if we were to end up “playing house.” My mother is a stay-at-home mom, but…
Greek Pasta with Feta Sauce
“You’re Italian.” It wasn’t a question, so I wasn’t sure how to respond. Actually, I’m never really sure how to respond to questions about my origins here in France: some people find…
Citrus Salad
When I was younger, I was very, very good at playing “pretend.” I’m actually still fairly good at it, although I don’t have very many people who are still willing to play…
Cake Day: Birthday Cake
My birthday has always fallen right on the cusp of summertime. School is out, or is going to be out in a few days. People are making summer plans–in New York, this…
Fuenterrabia and Pintxos
As I was posting about my recent trip to Hendaye and Fuenterrabia, I found these pictures that I took of some pintxos, or Basque tapas, that Alex and I had while waiting…