Still travelling…

“Hey”, I say.

“Well…hello…”

“Sorry”, I mumble.

“I WAS beginning to wonder,” comes the reply. “Everything ok?”

“Well….” I venture, “not really. I haven’t been to a grocery store in more than 4 months. I’m beginning to look like a reject from the Humane Society, given no haircut since March 5^th.  Had to cancel my daughter’s May wedding, reschedule it for late October and am now on the verge of cancelling again. Above all, you and I were supposed to be sailing across the Atlantic right now, on the heels of a bucket list trip to Bulgaria, Thessaloniki, Macedonia, Paris and Vienna.”

“Oh.”

“But don’t worry,” I soothe my loyal friend. “We WILL get back out there together. The world is just a bit broken and out of sorts right now.  We’re not used to having our plans disrupted by anyone or anything – least of all an invisible germ.”

“Does this mean no Italy or Switzerland or Berlin in the fall?”

I swallow the lump in my throat and say “would it help if we took a short walk together? Here, I’ll load you up, fasten the faded red lock, and off we’ll go. Just like in the good ole days.”

The above conversation transpired last week between me and my suitcase, otherwise known as Casey. One minute – in January 2020 – Casey and I were thick as thieves, circumnavigating the globe together. We knew everything about each other. Since Feb 1, Casey has patiently waited in the dark closet. I will say that I found some consolation in wheeling him out, running my hand over the outside compartment where the books, magazines, and last minute snack acquisitions used to live, and thinking about all the tangible memories he faithfully transported home for me. Like the Sri Lankan ginger tea I’m sipping now. Vietnamese coffee beans and coconut saltines. Turkish coffee, lokum, carob bean, loose herbs for tea and urfa biber.  Indian cardamom pods.  Dried jackfruit from Thailand and white Kampot peppercorns, lemongrass tea, spicy peanuts, and jackfruit shortbread cookies from Cambodia. And an entire compartment devoted to the irresistible offerings from Japan, most interesting of which are my sansho pods (a “zesty, spicy and warm” member of the citrus and rue family) which is used to make shichimi togarashi, a complex and wondrous spice blend.

There are many things I miss these days, but the most poignant of all is the travel. Trips cancelled, upcoming ones that will certainly not take place and the heaviness of not knowing when it will end or be safe “enough” to venture back out. All in perspective, I try to remind myself. Loved ones are healthy, there’s a roof over my head, enough food (and TP) and a yard with birds nesting and chirping – truly, that is all that matters.  But still…

So what do I do to combat my longing to roam? I cook. And I bake. Every. Single. Day. Sometimes, multiple times a day. According to my “Things Cooked” Journal, I have made over 205 Things since March 20^th, aka Lockdown Day. This figure does not account for “usual” things like omelettes, sandwiches, dinners construed with leftovers, or repeat performances. And yes, I will share the Best of the Best “Things Cooked” in upcoming posts. I am also launching a series of global-themed cooking classes so that we can travel around the world together virtually and sample foreign cuisines, even though we’re currently grounded. (More info forthcoming. Meanwhile, feel free to register your interest by emailing me at alysa@redclogblog.com or post a note on the blog with your cuisine and cultural requests, comments or questions.)

Back to how – and what –  I’ve been cooking during a pandemic, especially since my last grocery store visit was March 18th.

To compensate for the reduced culinary supplies, I’m growing 4 kinds of squash, eggplant, serrano and Bulgarian (poignant, no?) peppers, lots of tomatoes, and an army of arugula. There are ripe strawberries each week, lemons, limes, and an occasional apple. Oranges, stored from the winter, are becoming scarce, but the glorious baby figs have begun to swell.

On the sunny patio are herbs galore – cilantro and sage, oregano, thyme, tarragon, ginger mint and lemon balm, chives, basil, and lemongrass.  Rosemary and lavender cover the hillside.  Scallions grow in a mason jar in the bright kitchen window. Any of these accents will quickly introduce a bit of Italy or France or Southeast Asia to whatever I’m cooking.

I’ve also become much more of a DIY gal, given those sporadic grocery shopportunities and hard-to-come-by ingredients. Among the goodies I’ve made from scratch – about a dozen batches of ricotta cheese, limoncello, pizza dough, applesauce, marshmallow fluff, cocktails with simple syrup and fruit concentrate (coriander ginger martinis anyone?), granola, almond milk, preserved lemons, blintzes, chai spice blend, macarons, jams and preserves, chutneys and pickled watermelon radishes, candied kumquats, requeson (a citrusy soft cheese from Puerto Rico), at least 8 flavors of staggeringly good ice cream, breads in every size, shape, and consistency, yogurt, chili oil (from self-roasted chili flakes), and quark, a delicious creamy German cheese best described as the offspring of a marriage between sour cream and ricotta. Tomorrow I will convert brown-spotted bananas into a Scandinavian-style bread (with a bit of rye flour thrown in) and then move on to exercise the 2 newly-acquired Lebanese cookbooks, sent by a considerate and generous friend. My za’atar will be getting a workout!

I’m still travelling. Not just in my mind. But in what I cook.

When I daydream (more often now), and during those nights when I can’t sleep, I take myself back to the places I pine for – mostly Vienna, Austria and Pontresina, Switzerland – as well as to those I’m longing to explore.

And then I go into my kitchen and recreate local specialties which will immediately transport me there – no jet lag, no fear of a powerful virus. Today is Bastille Day, so I’ll “go” to France with a Soupe au Pistou (vegetable soup with pesto-like paste), an Herb Roasted Chicken, Salade a Coupole (from the iconic restaurant on Boulevard Montparnasse), baguette and a Tarte Tatin. This will be accompanied by a glass of Pouilly-Fuméand preceded by a cloudy, licorice-y Pastis on ice and some olive tapenade.

On August 1^st, I’ll go all out for the annual Bundestag celebration. The Bundestag is Switzerland’s tribute to the confederation of 3 original cantons or federal states back in 1291 (and we think 1776 was a long time ago!). There are now 26 cantons, each celebrating this “Federation Day” with paper lantern parades, fireworks, and bonfires. In Graubünden, “my” canton, when night falls on August 1^st, you can gaze up into the Alps and see parades of children dangling illuminated red and white paper lanterns, as they traverse the mountainside. The sight is mesmerizing.

This year I will retrieve my Swiss flag and red & white lantern and “go” to Pontresina via a Swiss menu which will conclude with the decadent and delicious pride of the canton – Engadiner Nusstorte, a honey walnut caramel torte with shortbread crust (recipe here – https://redclogblog.com/bundestag-caramel-nut-torte/). And I’ll raise a glass of Kirsch, the local cherry brandy, which makes a cheeky appearance in the torte as well.

Then, on Aug 18, I’ll celebrate Kaiser Franz Joseph’s (190^th) birthday. We’ll have an Austrian feast and start the morning with Kaiserschmarrn, the torn omeletty souffle pancake with rum-soaked raisins and the obligatory accompaniment of Zwetschgen Röster, a plum compote which translates to “Roasted Plums.” While I typically make the Italian prune plum sauce from scratch, in this pandemic year I felt it was warranted to order my Röster directly from the best grocery in Vienna. Tracking my box, as it flew from Vienna, to Cologne, Germany, on to Nashville, Tennessee and right to my front door brought me such joy.

I may be 6000 miles away from beloved places but I’ve found a way to keep them right here, in my heart, in my kitchen, on my plate.

Austrian Kaiserschmarrn

Now is the perfect time to start practicing your Kaiserschmarrn to be ready for the Kaiser’s birthday celebration on August 18th.

Kaiserschmarrn – literally “Kaiser’s nonsense”- is famously argued over in terms of its origin. One story tells that it was dinnertime at the palace and there wasn’t much left in the way of food supplies in the kitchen. An ingenious chef threw together what there was – milk, eggs, flour, raisins, and rum to create this omelette pancake hybrid. Another legend, is that the dish was created for Empress Elisabeth, the Kaiser’s wife. Elisabeth, known as “Sisi,” had eating disorders. There are two camps – one claims this was something she would actually consume while the other maintains she refused to eat it and so the Kaiser said “Let’s see what Schmarrn (nonsense) the chef has cooked up” and devoured it all himself.

Regardless of historical exactitude, the fact is that the beauty of Kaiserschmarrn (besides how incredibly delicious it is), is you can make it with ingredients you would typically have on hand, and it can be served for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or dessert. (Breakfast for dinner!)  I like it in the morning with a strong cup of coffee which supports just a touch of schlag (whipped cream), the ultimate Viennese delight.

The recipe below is a riff on the Kaiserschmarrn served at one of the most famous and beautiful cafes in Vienna, Café Central, where my great uncle Carl was a regular in the 1920’s (and probably edited his newspaper at one of the thick marble tables, while sipping his coffee). The Central was also home to many aspiring and ultimately famous artists, playwrights and philosophers at their heyday in the turn of the century – Fin de Siecle Vienna – as well as notables such as Freud, Lenin, and Trotsky.

Kaiserschmarrn

Click here to view the recipe!