A Mascara Snob No More

I admit it. I've been a snob. From the moment I tried my first Clinique mascara in high school there was no turning back. It's only been onward and upward since then. YSL, Lancôme, Chanel, I have been content to spend $26.50 on mascara. So when Cover Girl's Lash Blast mascara appeared on the market I was skeptical. How could this mascara possibly compare to my current Chanel Inimitable obsession? Determined to break through all the hype and forge my own conclusion, I ventured into my local Walgreens and came out brandishing a bright orange tube of mascara. Every day for the past month or so, I pull out the pleasantly plump wand and coat my lashes in Very Black. The formula is light and never clumpy or flaky and the secret, I believe, is in the brush. It's many bristles pull my lashes up and out, resulting in both gloriously full lashes and a change of heart. I have finally seen the light and it's plump and orange and available at the drugstore.

"I'm in love! I'm in love and I don't care who knows it!"

I apologize for quoting Elf, but it was the first phrase that popped into my head after seeing Marion Cotillard at the SAG Awards. I love how understated and elegant her dress is and how she exudes European charm while shying away from typical American excess. The color is unique and the fit is incredible. If La Vie En Rose made me want to run off to Paris and sing in the streets, then Marion Cotillard's Nina Ricci dress makes me want to swirl down a red carpet.

Bad gnocchi is like (fill in the blank)

According to my boyfriend, bad gnocchi is like Play Doh at the bottom of a pool. I don't even know what that means, but it certainly sounds disgusting, slippery and heavy. And yet it is an apt description of the gnocchi I had the other night at a restaurant that shall remain nameless. Venturing off the regular menu, I took a chance and ordered the special; never before have I been so deceived by a chalkboard! Expecting a pillowy plate of potato dumplings in a light sauce of wine and mushrooms, I was presented with a plate drenched in chunky tomato sauce. Ignoring my initial reaction, I thought perhaps this was one of those dishes that made up in flavor what it lacked in looks. Sigh. Sadly the presentation spoke volumes about the dish. The gnocchi themselves were large and perfectly formed, yet glutinous and chewy on the tongue. The sauce was way too heavy and seemed to be the kitchen's admonition, "Yes this dish sucks, but we hope you won't be able to tell." Adding to the general heaviness, was a large portobello cap placed lackadaisically on top of the meal.

One bite of this sad large gnocchi had me instantly wishing for a certain Italian kitchen and a bowl of its chef's pillowy soft gnocchi. Claudio's gnocchi was the stuff of dreams; supple potato-ey and tiny. He wasn't focused on size or aesthetics so much as taste. There would be no drowning of his dumplings in red sauce, no sirree. Melting a stick of butter infused with sage, Claudio served up a delicious and delicate sauce. After coating the gnocchi in the sage butter, the Italian chef then added a generous helping of Parmesan and announced with childlike wonder, "No cream!" Smiling, Claudio handed out the finished gnocchi to his eager pupils. It was easily dispatched.

Back in the States, staring at the offensive red gnocchi plate, I longed for Claudio and his potato dumplings. Then and there I decided if revenge is a dish best served cold, well then gnocchi is a dish best served with butter. And serve it I shall in all its buttery sage glory.

gnocchi with butter sage sauce
Adapted from Claudio's Figline Valdarno Kitchen

Boil 9 small potatoes in their skins for 45 minutes or until soft. (You can use golden or white but do not mix; white takes longer to cook.) Peel off skins and place potatoes in bowl. Mash with fork until smooth. Add 150 grams (3/4 cup) flour, 2 egg yolks and a pinch of salt. Incorporate with fork. Continue to mix dough by hand. Flour a hard surface as well as your hands. Roll dough into log & chop into gnocchi. Boil in salted water for 30 seconds. Remove and place on oiled surface.

Butter-Sage Sauce
Add ½ stick butter, ½ c. water and a few sage leaves to pot. Add gnocchi and cook until butter melts. Boil down until creamy and add a big helping of Parmesan cheese at the end.

An Ode to Roommates and House Dinner

Walking up the creaking front steps of 719 Arbor, it was a certainty I would run into a roommate the moment I turned the handle. My senior year of college, I had the great fortune to live with some of the most wonderful girls I've ever met. Edie was elusive, funny, and could usually be found listening to rap. Watching her drunkenly drag a desk chair up three flights of stairs after a late night at the bar remains one of the most entertaining visuals of the year. Sahar, a slave to the architecture building, had impeccable taste in literature and could, on rare occasions, be found counteracting said architecture serfdom by having a glass of wine around 1pm. Molly had a penchant for Entourage and ketchup. Nothing was better than a dose of her no-nonsense sweetness while curled up on her ridiculously soft jersey sheets. I got to relive my adolescence with Megha over a bottle of Little Penguin Chardonnay and a hookah she brought back from India. Together we managed to lock ourselves out of the house while making prank calls on the second floor balcony. Samantha was always up for a good time, not to mention the "Hungry Man" breakfast and a chocolate milkshake. We'd share hot chocolate and gossip about our good friend H. Pot and the "will they or won't they" Ron and Hermione love triangle. Renee, the constant roommate, was the "soaring eagle" to my "sitting duck" of grill stealing, and the Jasmine to my Aladdin. There was always a jean to be borrowed, a jazzercise move to be invented, and a "you thinking what I'm thinking?" late night back rub to be carried out.

Seven girls under one roof could at times be trying, but for the most part, there was always someone to critique an outfit, edit a paper, lend a straightener, or share a glass of wine and a cry with. Friday nights were spent at Ann Arbor bars and Saturday mornings at Benny's brunches. But perhaps one of my favorite things about my roommates was the fact that they indulged my "house mother" cooking tendencies. On many a Sunday I could be found cooking feverishly while singing along to musicals; basically it was the Ashley variety hour with a side of Mediterranean chicken. If anyone ever grudged me an Avenue Q sing-along or had a problem with Jane Monheit, it was forgotten the moment the wine corks were removed and steaming plates brought to the table.

Sadly senior year is long gone and the girls are spread between coasts. Trying now to coordinate a "House Dinner" is not as simple as juggling class schedules and social commitments. So with a hint of nostalgia, I've tried to assemble the centerfolds of the perfect dinner, the dinner I would make in honor of the lovely ladies of 719.

zesty braised chicken with lemon and capers
Adapted from Food and Wine, April 2007

8 bone-in mixed chicken breasts and thighs with skin (6 oz each)
Salt and freshly ground pepper
All-purpose flour, for dusting
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
4 large peeled garlic cloves (I usually add closer to 7)
1 1/2 cups Sauvignon Blanc (also delicious with a Bouzeron)
1 1/2 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade
Four 1-inch strips of lemon zest
4 thyme sprigs
1 tablespoon capers, drained
1 bay leaf

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Season the chicken with salt and pepper and dust with flour. In a large ovenproof skillet, melt the butter in the oil. Add the chicken, skin side down, and cook over high heat, turning once, until browned, 12-14 minutes. Transfer the chicken to a large plate and pour off all but 1 tablespoon of the fat.
2. Add the garlic to the skillet and cook over low heat until softened, about 5 minutes. Deglaze with the wine and then add the stock, lemon zest, thyme, capers and bay leaf and bring to a boil. Return the chicken to the pan, skin side up. Transfer the skillet to the oven and braise for about 45 minutes, until the meat is tender.
3. Return the skillet to the stove and boil until the sauce is slightly reduced, about 5 minutes. Discard the thyme, bay leaf and lemon zest, if desired, before serving.

old fashioned apple pie
Adapted from Williams-Sonoma Seasonal Celebration Series, Autumn, by Joanne Weir (Time-Life Books, 1997).

For the pastry:
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp. salt
2 Tbs. sugar
10 Tbs. (1 1/4 sticks) cold unsalted butter,
cut into pieces
10 Tbs. cold vegetable shortening, cut into
pieces
7 Tbs. ice water
1 tsp. distilled white vinegar

For the filling:
2 1/2 lb. baking apples, peeled, cored,
quartered and cut lengthwise into slices 1/2
inch thick (I like to mix Northern Spy, Granny Smith and Jonagold apples)
1/2 cup sugar, plus more as needed ( I also mixed white sugar with light brown sugar)
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. freshly grated nutmeg
2 Tbs. apple cider (my addition)
2 Tbs. unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 egg yolk
1 Tbs. heavy cream

To make the pastry, in a large bowl, stir together the flour, salt and sugar. Make a well in the center, add the butter and shortening and, using your fingertips, rub them into the flour mixture until small, flat pieces form. In a cup or small bowl, combine the water and vinegar. Using a fork, gently mix just enough of the liquid into the flour mixture so it comes together in a rough ball; do not overwork. Discard the remaining liquid. Divide the dough in half and wrap each half in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for 2 hours.

To make the filling, in a bowl, toss together the apples, the 1/2 cup sugar (adding more to taste if the apples are tart), cinnamon, nutmeg and apple cider.

Preheat an oven to 400°F.

On a lightly floured work surface, roll out half of the dough (leave the other half refrigerated) into a 12-inch round about 1/8 inch thick. Fold the dough in half and then into quarters and transfer it to a 9-inch pie dish. Unfold and gently press into the bottom and sides of the dish. Trim the edges even with the rim. Roll out the remaining dough into a 10-inch round about 1/8 inch thick.

Turn the apples into the pastry-lined pan, mounding them slightly in the center. Dot evenly with the butter. Brush the edges of the dough with water. Fold the dough round into quarters and unfold over the apples. Press together the top and bottom crusts to seal, then trim the edges flush with the rim of the dish and crimp to form an attractive edge. In a small bowl, beat together the egg yolk and cream and brush over the pastry. Make a few slits near the center to allow steam to escape.

Bake for 25 minutes. Reduce the oven temperature to 350°F and continue to bake until the apples are tender (insert a knife blade through a slit) and the top is golden brown, 15 to 20 minutes more. Transfer the dish to a wire rack and let the pie cool for at least 20 minutes before serving with good vanilla bean ice cream. Makes one 9-inch pie; serves 8.

Lost in the Luberon

On our trip to France, my boyfriend and I spent a fair amount of time exploring Provence. We discovered a fantastic cheese shop in Arles, as well as a great restaurant entitled Le Cilantro, drank a lot of wine, and realized that despite name recognition, Orange is a town best skipped. But perhaps our most interesting story involves the day we decided to let Peter Mayle dictate our activities. What can I say? We didn't have a year, but the Luberon sounded like a great area to explore.

We decided to venture to Bonnieux, the capital of the Luberon, and so on what would turn out to be a very warm day, we boarded a train from Arles to Avignon. Once in Avignon, we learned that we could take a bus to Bonnieux. After waiting forty-five minutes in a dirty bus station more reminiscent of New York than Provence, we boarded the bus that would eventually take us to our destination. We passed through beautiful countryside and one town that was having a lovely Sunday market, but as we continued on, town activity seemed to stall. We'd drop a passenger off into a quiet town and move on. When the bus driver announced Bonnieux and we were the only ones exiting, I should have realized what was in store. Sadly there was no Sunday market awaiting us, only a desolate little covered bench on the side of a French highway, no town in sight.

Scanning our surroundings, we decided the actual town couldn't be too far, so we did the only thing we could- we started walking. The first few minutes were fine; cars seemed to be heading in the same direction and things hadn't yet turned uphill. However, after walking five kilometers on the side of an empty road in blaring sunlight with no town in sight, things had started to look bleak… until we saw a sign for Bonnieux! Although when it informed us that the actual town was still eight kilometers away, things weren't exactly looking up. We mustered our tourist’s enthusiasm and the promise of a good meal, and continued walking. While trudging along, I focused on the delightfully satisfying crunch I made as I walked through the roadside white flowers. Well that is, it was satisfying until I realized I was crushing thousands of tiny white snails attached to blades of grass. After that, I took to walking in the road with my shirt off, avoiding passing cars while Mark and I discussed how amazing it would be if some French villa/vineyard owner decided to give us his home-- unlikely, I know, but we may have been suffering from heatstroke at that point.

The final uphill push into the town was sweaty and brutal, but led us into a beautiful hill town. Starving, we explored the winding streets looking for a place to eat. A sunny, flowering vine enclosed restaurant patio beckoned us in. Just as I was salivating over the rabbit preparation, a server informed us that if we didn't have a reservation he couldn't accommodate us. Sadly this reaction met us at every other restaurant we tried to wander into. Rejection had forced our hands. If we couldn't eat, well then, damn it we would drink! Just as we were about to purchase a bottle of warm wine, a beam of light must have fallen upon us because we passed an emptier outdoor restaurant. Mark asked if they had an open table and cue the Hallelujah chorus, they did.

Finally seated and enjoying a pitcher of cold white wine and lunch, we took to people watching. There was the child who ordered a plate of snails (only in France) and "le petit gourmand," the little dog that would beg for food, but refuse to eat anything other than steak (again, only in France). Sated, we ordered another pitcher of wine determined to enjoy the fruits of our walking. However it eventually dawned on us that we had no idea how we were going to get back to our hotel in Arles. Did the bus pick up at the same highway bench it dropped us off? Were there more pickups? Would we be stuck in this town for the night? Conveniently at this time we noticed a couple clutching a Rick Steves book like the bible. They had to be American! We asked to borrow their book and got a little more out of the deal. It turned out the couple was from our college town and had a car. They offered at first to drive us back to the bus stop (?) but then said they could drop us off at the train station in Aix-en-Provence if we didn't mind making a small detour to Buoux. Score.

On the way to our new friends' car, we passed a parade of bikers tossing hard candy into the streets. I was nearly clocked in the eye by a piece of rogue candy and decide candy tossing is better in theory than practice. Yet it was no matter because we had a ride! Distracted by passing vineyards and blue sky, we realized that we'd been driving twenty minutes in the wrong direction. I didn't care because I was full and buzzed and avoiding snail roads; it was all sunshine, lollipops and rainbows to me.

After a mutual group decision, we bypassed Buoux and were dropped off at the Aix train station. There we learned that we had to take a bus to Marseilles and from there we could take a train back to Arles. Sold the tickets at 5:14pm, we walked out to the bus platform only to see a bus pulling away. Cue the dust clouds. Ok, perhaps a little dramatic, but you get the picture. Mark and I looked at each other and then down at our tickets for the 5:15 bus. Luckily the station told us to just jump on the next bus.

We waited an hour for the bus to Marseilles and were greeted by the world's most aggressive bus driver. Thankfully his road rage was not directed at us. Although when he pulled out his finger gun and started shooting at other drivers and yelling at them in French, I didn't know whether to laugh or worry. I was just happy we weren't in Detroit. While slightly erratic, our bus driver did get us to Marseilles safely. From there we stocked up on "Hit mini" cookies and caught the train back to Arles.

Exhausted and trailing crumbs of cookies, we finally made it back to our hotel and the only thing I could manage to do was laugh.

Friday Mini Spa Night

While most of my friends were out throwing back Jack and Cokes and Belgian wheat beers, I was sipping green tea. Call it lame, but my Friday turned into a night of restful rejuvenation. Ok, so it might have started out a little loud with me singing in the shower at a really high decibel, but I find singing makes me happy and happy people are relaxed people, right? And happy, relaxed people take long hot showers. Ok, I know it's terrible for my dry winter skin, but three minutes were devoted to a John Frieda hair glaze, and I made sure to counteract the damage with the best under $6 body moisturizer I've ever used. Nivea Body Essentially Enriched Daily Lotion for Very Dry, Rough Skin (quite a mouthful) leaves my skin intensely moisturized and sinks right in.

I followed this by giving myself a facial with Fresh Sugar Face Polish. Never having used this before, the texture was a little interesting. Imagine taking strawberry jam and densifying it with lots and lots of sugar and you have Fresh's face polish. The sugar melted into my skin as I scrubbed in a circular motion, making me feel as though I wasn't getting the most out of my exfoliant. After leaving the scrub on for the recommended five minutes, I had really smooth skin but I was left wishing that I used the Appleseed Resurfacing Kit instead.

Having taken care of my skin, I let my hair air dry while watching a movie and sipping on a glass of red wine. Hey I was protecting myself against heart disease... Ultimately I retired to bed early and entirely stress free. Now if I only could have had a personal masseuse...

"I Want It NOW!"

In true Veruca fashion, you'll be clamoring for all the wares of this newish Bucktown store. Veruca Salt is a laid back boutique that offers a variety of great fashion choices and does so at a very reasonable price. While combing through the small, but extremely organized racks, I was tempted by a simple understated gold shift dress. The fit was great and the price ($95) was pretty nice as well. Veruca Salt's owner, Amber, was extremely sweet and helpful and I fully appreciated that she never tried to force anything upon me. I left without the dress, but with the intention to visit this store again. I also can't wait to check out the new Veruca Salt Fancy right down the street and the website launching this spring. Veruca Salt 1937 N Damen Ave. Chicago, IL 60686. (773) 276-3888 Veruca Salt Fancy 1921 N Damen Ave. Chicago, IL 60686. (773) 276-9888

Let There Be Light When The Price Is Right

Call it some kind of pre-Valentine's return to romance, but lately I've been in the mood for chandeliers. They seem so elegant and statement-y, while still remaining a little quirky. While I'm all about adding a little pizazz to my home, I'm not interested in one of those grand entrance Phantom of the Opera chandeliers. I just want a cute extra for a reading nook or dining room. That's why I was so excited to find the "Chandeliers Under $300!!!" section on the Gallery 84 website. They offer a variety of options in style, color, and size and all of them are just the right price.

A Women's Right to Shoes

My very fashionable friend recently mentioned how Sex and the City served to mythologize Manolo Blahniks, which led to a discussion of the shoes themselves. Are they really as fabulous as Carrie and her friends made them out to be? In the midst of this wondering, we found ourselves on the hunt for a pair of gold metallic shoes to go with my friend's beautiful green dress. Scurrying in and out of Michigan Ave. stores, we couldn't seem to find the right pair until we headed into Neiman Marcus. There my friend found a pair of strappy Manolo Blahniks in the palest of golds. The Perle was one of those classic strappy metallic evening numbers that every woman should own. The heel wasn't too high and the T-strap made her want to cha-cha to the soundtrack of Dirty Dancing. Needless to say, my friend's Blahniks would do any Carrie Bradshaw fan proud.

On the Radar

Everything I'm loving in January...


Food
I find something so comforting about a tiny restaurant in cold weather. It becomes an escape, a place to shrug off your coat and get down to some serious eating. I can't wait to do just that at Table 52, Art Smith's new Southern infused restaurant. The chef, of Oprah fame, personally welcomes guests into his thirteen table dining room and serves up a mean slice of Hummingbird Cake. Trying to get a seat can be difficult, so it would be best to make reservations weeks ahead of time. If that sounds like too much of a wait, you could always try your luck with one of the first come first serve bar seats or head upstairs to Teaspoon, a tearoom serving tarts and savories with afternoon tea. Table 52. 52 W Elm St Chicago, IL 60610. (312) 573-4000


Drink
Normally "Drink" sections are focused on harder beverages, but with January being National Tea Month it seems appropriate to devote this section to this delightful and relaxing drink. If Chicago happens to by in your backyard, Vong's Thai Kitchen is celebrating through January 31 with Make Your Own Tea Tuesdays (5:30-10pm) and High Tea Saturdays (1-4pm). I can't wait to drop by and make my own blend, perhaps I'll try to concoct a remedy for my boyfriend's never-ending cold and sinus troubles. Vong's Thai Kitchen. 6 W Hubbard Street Chicago, IL 60610. (312) 644-8664



Entertainment
Winner of the Palme d'Or this year at Cannes, 4 months, 3 weeks, and 2 days comes to theaters on January 25th. This Romanian film follows the story of Otilia (Anamaria Marinca) and Găbiţa (Laura Vasiliu), two university roommates who try to arrange an illegal abortion in the last years of the Ceauşescu regime. Needless to say this film is not uplifting, but it's supposed to be artfully filmed and superbly acted.


Fashion
January, I'm sorry to admit it, is one of those months where fashion seems to go into hibernation. The party frocks of December are left behind and the breezy ease of spring fashion is still months off. Call it my security blanket, but a cashmere cardigan just seems so appropriate for the coming months. Cardigans have a certain casual elegance that can elevate even the most basic of ensembles, and if they're done in cashmere, well, even better. That's why I'm ready to purchase Vince's Long Cashmere Cardigan. At $290 it's not the cheapest of purchases, but it's one that will surely last through January and become a lovely staple in any woman's wardrobe.


Books
Call it connecting to my homebody self, but lately I've found myself drawn to cookbooks. Currently I'm working my way through the reprint of Simon Hopkinson's Roast Chicken and Other Stories. Focusing on simple, but delicious recipes, this cookbook is the ideal pairing for the coming lazy winter months.

Adventures in Cheese

After my fifth consecutive trip to the cheese table at a recent wine tasting, I was greeted with, "You really love cheese, don't you?" Guilty as charged. I love cheese. Sharp cheddar, fresh goat, washed rind. You name it, I love it. I am the girl sneaking more than one cheese cube at Whole Foods.

With that in mind, I've tried to come up with my dream cheese platter. According to the experts at my local specialty markets, the ideal cheese plate should consist of a mix of soft and hard cheeses ranging from the mild to the most pungent and intense. These selections will generally involve a fresh cheese, a semi-soft, a soft-ripened, a surface-ripened, a semi-hard, a hard, a blue, and a washed rind cheese. Most people serving a cheese platter tend toward the three cheese display -gouda, Brie and a blue varietal- dismissing the others as unnecessary; but to serve only three cheeses is to deny the delicious options that this basic dairy product offers.

Fresh cheeses are often known as curd cheeses. They require no aging and are made by introducing an enzyme to milk; the curds are saved and molded into cheese while the whey is drained off. My selection for this category is the French style Redwood Hill Farm Fresh Chevre. Made by Jennifer Bice in Sonoma California, this Certified Humane goat cheese is lightly citrusy, fluffy and delightfully spreadable. Another delicious option would be a crumbly Greek feta.

Semi-soft cheeses are often aged for a few days to a few months and generally have a creamy interior with little to no rind. They also melt well and are favored cooking cheeses. Bellwether Farms makes Crescenza, a delicious semi-soft cheese molded into traditional Italian square shapes. This cheese is rich and buttery with a light tart flavor and would be delicious melted on pizza. Another choice would be a three-month aged Dutch Gouda.

Soft-ripened cheeses are distinguished by their “bloomy” white rinds and soft creamy texture. This category of cheese includes the popular Brie and Camembert. My choice for a soft-ripened cheese is the Old Chatham Shepherding Company’s Hudson Valley Camembert, a consistent award winner. This cheese is made with a mix of their sheep’s milk and a neighbor’s hormone-free cow’s milk. It is the texture of a triple-crème and is appealingly buttery and smooth.

Surface-ripened cheeses can vary in texture, but they ripen from the outside in, resulting in intensely flavored cheeses with wrinkly rinds. One of my favorite cheese falls into this category. La Tur is an Italian surface-ripened cheese that’s made from a mix of pasteurized goat, sheep, and cow’s milk. This cheese manages to be both crème fraiche-like and earthy.

Semi-hard cheeses cover a broad range of flavors, but tend to be firmer and sometimes crumbly. They often balance earthy, salty and nutty flavors quite well. This category includes the delicious Pleasant Ridge Reserve made by Uplands Cheese Company. It is a raw cow’s milk farmhouse cheese made in Wisconsin with a lovely golden color.

Hard cheeses deliver exactly what the name implies. They’re hard, crumbly, good for grating and tend to be saltier than the other cheeses. I love pecorino that is aged for at least six months. Its flavors intensify becoming more caramel-like than salty. An aged pecorino is also amazing with a drizzle of Italian honey.

Blue cheeses are always identifiable by their blue/green veining and often-pungent scent. They range from smooth and creamy to crumbly and can be made with sheep, cow, or goat milk. They can by salty, buttery, yeasty, nutty, tangy, or at times sweet. One of my favorite blue cheeses is Rouge Creamery’s Rogue River Blue. This raw cow’s milk cheese is aged in Syrah-Merlot grape leaves that have been soaked in pear brandy. It is a salty, yet sweet wonder.

The last cheese category is perhaps the most pungent. These are the cheeses whose scents will permeate the kitchen long after opening the fridge door; however, the smell can be much stronger than the taste. Washed rind cheeses have tacky surfaces, pinky/orange colored rinds, and are characteristically creamy. It’s hard for me to decide between two cheeses for this category, so I’ll include them both. Cowgirl Creamery’s Red Hawk washed rind cheese is amazing! It is a triple-cream organic cow’s milk cheese that’s aged four weeks and then washed with a brine solution. I also love a French Langres cheese. Made with cow’s milk, Langres is matured for about two to three months in humid cellars and is regularly washed with brine and annatto. It has a strong scent and melts in the mouth. This cheese has an indentation on the top meant to be filled with a pour of champagne or marc, but it is just as easily enjoyed on its own.

Quick and Easy Weekday Pasta

One thing I learned in Italy is that sometimes the simplest recipes can be the tastiest. So one night in attempt to whip something up with pantry remnants, I came up with this simple pasta. My family likes it so much that my mom made me teach her how to make it and my brother requested it on his birthday.

15oz can of diced Roma tomatoes
15oz can of Italian seasoned Roma tomatoes
3 shallots, minced
6 cloves of garlic, minced
extra virgin olive oil
1+cup good red wine, I recently had success with a Barossa Grenache blend
salt and pepper to taste
spaghetti rigate-ridged spaghetti noodles

Swirl your olive oil twice around the pan and heat. Add the minced shallot and garlic, saute until tender. Next add the can of Roma tomatoes followed by half the can of the seasoned Roma tomatoes, let simmer. Add the wine and bring to a boil. After it reaches a boil, turn the heat down, allowing the sauce to simmer and the flavors to come together. Season with salt and pepper to taste. In the mean time boil your noodles in salted water. When the noodles are al dente, drain and toss into the sauce. Serve immediately.

*Note, everything in this pasta can be adjusted to taste

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year from biscottiandblahniks! May it be filled with good food, good friends, great footwear and great times! Here's to not making a post entitled "A New Year, A New You." While there's nothing wrong with a little self improvement, a new year doesn't have to mean a complete overhaul. So start a new pilates workout if you like, or pick up War and Peace, but if you still happen to have a penchant for holiday candy, expensive footwear, and Project Runway, so be it! I certainly won't tell...