La Isla del Encanto

Something about Puerto Rico really endeared itself to me, and also to my quirky brother-in-law, during our recent family vacation there. BIL spent most of his few waking hours in the car envisioning tropical careers for each one of one us, so that we could all relocate to the island together one day. Well, I assume it would be together, anyway. In any case, even if he wasn't, I was myself thinking literally about moving to this island. (Living in Lugano has convinced me I could be perfectly happy in a nice climate. I have discarded my tough midwesterner persona.)

Puerto Rico, as someone there reminded me, not without pride, is the world's only remaining commonwealth. This means, very basically, Puerto Ricans get US passports but no vote in federal elections. But it seems they are perfectly happy to remain a commonwealth. 

The mix of political and cultural realities really fascinated me. The juxtaposition of the jungly green rainforest and the familiar brown retro Park Service sign for some reason brought tears to my eyes. The language, made kooky by intermingling with English, made signs seem like personalized notes in some special shorthand. Its history is both long and short, iron and sand. In short, it is a place that feels full of history, lived-in, proud, idiosyncratic, complex, rich... much like my definition of home.

I'll be the amarillos-maker. 

Mangiamo pasta!

Since we have a very limited number of those precariously poised USDs and still have about 57 trips we'd like to take in the next year or so, we are doing our best to cut back on our eating expenses. Food is like gold in Switzerland. So yes: pasta pasta pasta! Mamma! 

Here are a few simple recipes we've gathered from friends here and there, which I think you will enjoy, even if you are not on a strict budget.

Pesto Tradizionale
Serves 4

100-150 grams basil
50-75 grams extra-virgin olive oil
30-50 grams pecorino cheese
50 grams pine nuts
1 clove of garlic

Grind everything together with a mortar or food processor.
(Be sure to add the oil before grinding so that basil does not turn black.)

For each person, cook:
120 grams of pasta (trenette, linguine or trofie)
a small potato, diced (approximately 30-50 grams)
a dozen of green beans, in pieces

Put potatoes and beans in the water before it boils, then add the pasta when it boils. Cook and drain pasta.
Add pesto and serve.

Pesto Trapanese
Serves 4

100 grams peeled almonds
20 baby tomatoes
1 clove of garlic
50 grams olive oil
30 grams parmigiano cheese

Grind everything together in the food processor.
Cook 120 grams of fusilli, or mezze penne, or casarecce per person.
Add pesto and serve.

Alfredo Sauce

1 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons butter
2/3 cup grated parmigiano
salt
pepper
nutmeg

Cook 2/3 of the cream with all the butter briefly to thicken. Toss with cooked pasta to coat. Add the remaining cream, the grated cheese, and the seasonings. Toss and serve with additional cheese.

Today is Epiphany, the day traditionally chosen to commemorate the arrival of the three wise kings with their gifts of gold, frankincense, myrrh, candy, toys, argyle socks, and ipods. Here in Ticino, we got a day off and a bunch of pretty snow – a very nice way to conclude the holiday season. 

Special Epiphany riddle: Which party in the amazing moulded plastic tile with custom easel below overcame the spacetime continuum for this historic meeting?

The cute connection

The double-A battery has a special name in France: mignon. I think it's really cute that they have a nickname for a battery type. I'm trying to think if we do something so charming in English. I can't think of much (Bring me that lil' batt'ry, you big git!), but maybe I am just blind to the cuteness of my own language. I do wish we had a more flexible diminutive ending in our language, like Spanish does. Pilita (or would it be pilacita?) sounds pretty cute. Even German, when it's not saying things like "small-stored-energy-capsule," has a nice diminutive ending which can be put, at least by old ladies, on practically anything.

Anyway, because, up to the point of learning this, mignon suggested to me something along the lines of "hunk of meat," I decided to research this mysterious battery-meat connection. I was pleased to find mignon to mean "cute, sweet, nice, kind." Or, in the context of meat, apparently, "dainty." A relative term, obviously, since beef is one of the less dainty foods I can think of at the moment. To confuse the issue further, in France filet mignon usually refers to pork. Filet of beef is called tournedos.

So now you know all about mignon and can impress people next time you're out ordering meat at some tony steakhouse, or asking your French friend for a battery. Just remember to pronounce it correctly or you'll lose all your credibility. 

Happy New Year. Check out the British version of this old roller skating fav – I guarantee you will be singing it for the rest of the day:

The Hokey Cokey

You put your left arm in, your left arm out
In out, in out, you shake it all about
You do the Hokey Cokey and you turn around
That's what it's all about
Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey
Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey
Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey
Knees bent, arms stretched
Raa raa raa

via BBC