I didn’t learn to like food until I was twelve when my dad made me try this horrible plate of green pasta, it was covered with pesto and I was cynical, but my dad insisted I try it and it was a revolution. From that point on I tried everything and learned to not just like, but love food and to appreciate all the good things I was fed at home.

It is that time of year again when the garden is full of tomatoes and it is time to make la conserva, the base for most of our tomato sauces that we learned from Mauro’s parents. It is truly a labour of love. We enjoy good food and knowing what is in our food. In this case, it takes some hard work.

There’s something so evocative to me about pictures of food and the power they have to vividly remind me of mouth-watering meals and moments that I’ve had on my travels.  I can look at my culinary photos and remember exactly where I was, the scent of the dish just placed in front of me, and the way the flavors open up on my pallet. 

I was considering calling this “When You Love Ravioli But Aren’t in Italy.” If you love stuffed pasta or just want a few ideas of what comfort foods await you on your next trip to Eastern Europe, dive into these…

The end of summer vacation in Italia was here. Finito—the endless days of sun and laughter of young and old. Over are the unorganized days spent together with family and friends. It was time to go  home. Back home again, back north, to the other side of the Alps.