At the end, it’s not all about food. Food is just a bridge for you to start learning and emerging yourself into another place, another culture.

Giulia was my boyfriend’s flatmate. When we started seeing each other, I went over to his apartment quite often to bake cakes. Since he lived with 9 other students, I didn’t have to worry about who was gonna eat my cake. Each thing I baked wouldn’t last longer than 2 days in that apartment.

I was so eager to be in the kitchen, to help out and to learn more about Italian food and traditions. So one day Giulia told my boyfriend to tell me that I could go to her grandma’s house in the countryside near Modena and she could show me how to make fresh pasta and tortelloni, the traditional food from this region.


Of course I said yes, absolutely. There was no way I would think twice about an opportunity like this.

So one Sunday morning at the beginning of summer, I took a train to Modena and Giulia came to pick me up from the station. By the time we got back to her nonna’s house at around 10 am, she already made like 3 trays of tortelloni stuffed with ricotta, parmesan cheese and spinach. But she was happy to make the dough again just to show me. 100 grams of flour for 1 egg, she kneaded the doungh by hand before dividing them in half. With the new technology, nowaday she just used the electronic pasta rolling machine, but she also showed me how it was done traditionally with a rolling pin. I tried my hand on making tortelloni as well. It was such crafty and delicate work, the kind of work I was really fond of.




While we were waiting for lunch time, Giulia showed me around her grandma’s land. There were many sour cherry trees which would be picked and turned into jam in a couple of weeks, a small vegetable gardens, many other stone-fruit trees, a small grapeyard, and the highlight of this place, which was in the attic room of the house, was the place where they made ‘aceto balsamico’ or the traditional balsamic vinegar from Modena.

I was fascinated, by the fact that they made their own balsamic vinegar from their own grapes, and by how insanely good it tasted.



Then lunch was ready. The table outside under a gazebo was set and soon covered with different dishes. There was no way that a Sunday lunch with Italian nonna would involve just one dish, especially when there was a guest like me. We started of with ‘tortelloni di ricotta e spinaci con burro salvia’, followed by grilled fresh vegetables from the garden, meat and cheese platters to be eaten with ‘tigelle’, a typical bread from the area grilled using a special pan with a flower-like mould, and ‘gnocco fritto’, her grandma’s homemade fried dough, another heavy typical bread from the area. Those could also be eaten sweet with fresh ricotta drizzled with her homemade balsamic vinegar or cherry jam.




Seeing how it was made and aged with my own eyes, of course the balsamic vinegar combination was my favourite.

Then we finished of the meal by gelato, which I again drizzled with balsamic vinegar (as strange as it might sound, it was very divined) and a shot of homemade limoncello with the lemons from her own tree. With my tummy full until dinnertime we relaxed in a small pool for the rest of the day.

You wouldn’t leave a nonna’s house hungry, or with an empty hand. I went home that day with a box of tortelloni and a bag full of fresh tagliatelle we made this morning.

It’s true that Giulia and I didn’t have that much in common apart from our love for food, but that alone was enough to create the connection and allow me to learn and live something special and authentic that I would otherwise never have experienced.

I met Ele when I least expected to even have a conversation with anyone, let alone exchanging contacts and ending up spending a few days together, cooking and taking photos.


This event about Pugliese food was promoted on Facebook. A cookbook writer, food blogger and sommelier Patrizia would come to the bar/bookshop (which I found out later was a Pugliese bar) to present her new book, followed by some samplings of typical food from the region. I knew I was going to Puglia and I couldn’t miss it.

I arrived there on time, but I probably forgot that everyone involved that night was from the South, and the concept of being punctual isn’t very popular there.

So I sat in the courtyard with my journal, spent an hour there filling in the pages with words.

Then they started talking, in Italian obviously. It was a combination of lateness and tireness that took my attention away and I couldn’t be bothered to try to understand, wasn’t even sure if I would understand if I tried. So I just flipped through the cookbook and looked at the photos.

Bored, I thought to myself that at least I would get to try something delicious afterwards.

Somehow I paid a bit more attention at the end, and understood that the girl with a camera who was taking photos around that night, was not only the food photographer for this cookbook, but also Patrizia’s daughter, Eleonora.

So I approached her and we started talking.

I was so impressed that she took all these photographs for the cookbook, and she was only eighteen.

It turned out that they lived right next to Altamura in Puglia, the only place I knew I would be staying for sure in April because my Workaway host lived there.

We exchanged our contacts, and three weeks later, they picked me up from a bus station in Santeramo and welcomed me to their home, where we spent two days taking photos, cooking and eating together.

I had done quite a bit of food photography before, but nothing serious and definitely not with another food photographer. It was a whole new experience for me.



Her grandma came over and taught us how to make orecchiette, a typical ear-shaped pasta from Puglia, with toasted flour. I learned so much about food traditions of the region from her and her mum.



More importantly, I understood the beauty and collaboration. It was so nice to just wander around the kitchen, up and down the steps with Ele, pointing cameras at everything and being asked if they should pause their actions for me to take photos. It was a mixture of difference and similarity that brought us together. We have this same specific interest yet coming from different backgrounds, we learned from each other and that generated the conversations.

Through our passion for food and photography we shared and bound.

Coming from a culture where rice, vegetables, fish and even curry are regularly eaten for breakfast, sweet things are always a treat for me. Having a couple of biscuits or a croissant for breakfast like the Italians just doesn’t sound quite right, not quite like a proper meal with a lot of nutrients.

But I do love sweet things, and eating dessert for breakfast is no doubt my guilty pleasure. This recipe uses whole grain flour and is sweetened by mashed ripe banana, so I could easily eat them plain without any honey and jam, or simply spread some nut butter on top.


The recipe leaves a lot of room for experimentation, from using different flours, adding different flavours (like cocoa powder or spices) and the extra amount of liquid which can be substituted with fruit or vegetable juice or puree, to add some colour, taste and a little bit of healthy kick to your breakfast.

Whole grain thick and fluffy banana pancakes

125 g. buckwheat flour or whole spelt flour (I often just use a mixture of whole grain flours)
1 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. vanilla
2 mashed bananas, make sure they’re very ripe or roast them in the oven first
1 egg
120 g. (1/2 cup) yogurt/milk of choice/water/cooked beetroot puree (for the colour) or other fruit puree or more bananas!

—

simply mix everything together and cook on a non-stick pan using medium/low heat until golden brown on both sides, serve warm with fresh fruits, yogurt, nut butter

Everyone told me to go to the South of Italy. So when Maria, a Couchsurfer in Naples accepted my request to stay with her, I bought cheap tickets from a Facebook group and the next thing I knew, I was on the train to Naples.

Maria was up to exploring the food scene in Naples with me, and my stay started and ended with a Napoletana ‘Pizza Magherita’ for dinner. But during my 4 days there, despite the fact that I was eating non-stop and being full all the time (because street food was everywhere and sfogliatelle were so divine) Everything here was so good, so calorific, and so many deep-fried food, just like back home. The further South I go, the more it reminds me of Thailand.

As much as she was interested in Asian cultures, Maria was equally proud of her region and the food of Naples. After cooking a Thai meal for her, she offered to show me how to make a typical pasta dish from Naples, pasta con patate e provola, and agreed to let me take photos as a part of my project.



Her bright, huge kitchen was what I imagined a typical Southern Italian kitchen would look like; vintage wooden furniture and bright yellow-tiled walls with blue mediterranean patterns tiles on the floor. The sunlight was pouring in through the windows, made it an ideal space for food photography.


We started by chopping up vegetables. This kind of pasta is done differently in each family, so there was no fixed recipe whatsoever. This time, we made it without pancetta as neither of us were meat lovers. The cubed potatoes were cooked in white wine and broth until tender before adding dry pasta to the vegetable soup. Unlike pasta dishes from the North and Central of Italy where the pasta would be cooked separately in boiling water with salt, in this region the pasta is often cooked in the broth of whatever sauce you’re making, creating a creamier consistency.


This is a true peasant dish of the South, using cheap staple ingredients like pasta and potatoes which fill you up quite quickly. Even the type of pasta used here, pasta mista, consisted of no specific shape but rather a mixture of scrap bits of pasta put together , hence its budget price. At least that was the way it used to be, now it is being produced in random shapes just for the market.

Adding in the end was smoked provola cheese, a type of soft cheese with slight smokiness typical from this region (and don’t get confused with provolone, because I did and they are two complete different cheeses!), and a shaving of parmesan.

So cheap, so simple, so good.

And so much carb.



What was even better than the food was the act of cooking together and sharing cultures as a way of socialising. There was no need for drugs or alcohol, no need to spend money on something that would not nourish your body, or would make you wake up in the morning feeling tired and remember only half of the things that happened the night before. Rather, we spent a few hours doing things we would remember.

Every time I travel to somewhere new, memories of people I met and the time we spent together determine how much I like the city, and not the place itself.

This time it was no difference.

I returned to Slovenia this summer. It’s been almost two years since I first visited this country but even when I wasn’t there, somehow I’ve always had the presence of Slovenian people in my life. They kept making me wanting to go back to their home country.



Also, I still remember the food, especially the baked goods from there. This time, I return to the country looking forward to eating what captured my tastebuds two years ago, as well as discover the new taste of Slovenia.


Akdov Kruh (z Orehi) — buckwheat bread (with walnuts)

I fell in love with supermarket bread in Slovenia, and upon my return this time, I discovered more types of buckwheat bread they make here. They have either with or without walnuts, and a denser (with more buckwheat flour) and lighter version. Having accustomed myself to dense German bread, this time I prefer the denser version of this bread from Zito bakery which is a chain bakery in Slovenia that also supplies bread to supermarket called Mercator. The one with walnuts has a slightly saltier aftertaste due to the nuts, whereas the one without the earthiness and sweetness of the buckwheat flour come out more. I had to make an effort not to nourish myself just with this bread whenever I could get my hand an one.



Potica — yeasted cake roll with different fillings

Last time I was in Slovenia, I did try potica from where they said was one of the best bakeries in Ljubljana. I liked it, but didn’t love it. Although this is the kind of thing that tastes the best when made by your grandma at home. This time, I was lucky enough to be welcome by Maja’s family. The family didn’t only share their home and knowledge of Slovenia with us, her sweet mum which happens to be an amazing baker also showed us how to make potica, this yeasted cake filled with either walnuts, cottage cheese and tarragon, or poppy seeds. Maja had been saying this to me for a while, ‘My mum can teach you how to make potica!’ and after trying her mum’s potica, I understood why she always sounded so eager when talking about potica.

The kitchen was infused with the smell of freshly baked potica, walnuts and cottage cheese fillings. We cut it opened and had the first ‘tasting’ while it was still warm. The thin layers of dough was rolled tightly with the filling in between. The dough absorbed the moisture of wet cottage cheese filling, made it extra moist, where as the walnut one remained slightly dryer and retained its shape more. It was soft, gooey, doughty, not too sweet, just wonderful. I think my favourite one was the cottage cheese one.

I’ve now got Maja’s grandma recipe of potica, in case I miss Slovenia and want the taste of this country to bring me back there. What I now know for sure is that there’s no going back to the store-bought potica ever again.


Prekmurska Gibanica — Hungarian-inspired 8-layer cake

I liked it then, and I still like it now. This dense 8-layer cake of pastry, poppy seeds, cottage cheese and walnuts was still as delicious as it was in my memory. Full of textures and not too sweet. Although thinking back now, I wondered how I could finished the whole thing by myself, because the density of this cake is rather perfect to be shared.

No wonder why I had cake for breakfast, or lunch, or probably both.


Kremsnita — Bled cream cake

The cake that doesn’t really look like something I would enjoy still tasted surprisingly good this time as well. A thick layer of yellow ‘crema diplomatica’ (a mixture of custard and whipped cream) with an equally thick layer of lightly sweetened whipped cream sandwiched between two thin sheets of puffed pastry, the cake was very light despite its overwhelming amount of creamy layers. The only problem was that it was quite hard for me to eat. I would have preferred thinner layers of cream so that I could have more of the crunchy puff pastry bits.


Zmrekovo Zganje — pine spruce liquor

Considering the fact that I’m not a big fan of alcoholic drinks in general, let alone liquor, it was amazing that this liquor managed to impress me so much. Made from young pine spruce, a shot of it tasted like winter in the alps, snow, skiing, and fire. It was that strong sense of pine that connect you to so many memories and bring you back to snowy winter in the middle of summer.

Hands down the best liquor I have ever tried. When I have my own place ,this liquor will definitely be sitting on a shelf somewhere.



Bučno Olije — pumpkin seed oil

Another speciality from Prekmurje, the Eastern region close to Hungary. Slovenia, similar to Italy, is quite good at promoting and marketing their country and its products. Pumpkins grow alnost everywhere in Europe, but Slovenia somehow managed to make the pumpkin seed oil becomes the speciality of the country. Just like olive oil, they would put it on soup, salad, chocolate bars, and even drizzle on top of gelato (or make a pumpkin seed oil flavour gelato) I really love its nutty and savoury taste in salad and chocolate, and I’m really curious to try it on a scoop of ice cream as well!


Čompe an Skuta — cottage cheese with potatoes from Bovec

Skuta is everywhere in Slovenia, be it cow, sheep or goat version. This fresh cheese can be eaten savoury or sweet, used in cooking, baking, or simply spread on bread as well as using as yogurt and it with jam. Skuta can be slightly different from region to region, but the most distinctive one probably comes from Bovec area. Made from sheep and slightly salted, we had this typical dish from the region at a tourist farm called Kamp Jelinc. It’s so simple that it was hard to believe how good it could be, but with their amazing homemade cheese and new potatoes, it was delicious. They also have really good trout dish and the price was great for the quality of the food we had.

It was really hard to find this kind of skuta from Bovec outside the area, not even in Ljubljana, so take the chance and have it as much as you can while you’re in the area.



Mountain Hut Food — Jota and Štruklji

Food in mountain huts in Slovenia can be a hit or miss, and during our three nights stay in the hut, we have had both. Dinner on our first night was the best. It was much colder than expected and also rained outside, but the dining room was well heated. We had this sauerkraut soup with beans called jota, my boyfriend’s one topped with typical sausage from Kranjska Gora region. Then for dessert it was this amazing štruklji filled with cheese and topped with a mixture of breadcrumbs, butter and cinnamon. It was soft and had just the right amount of sweetness. A perfect ending to our day in the Alps.



Vrtnaria Greenhouse Restaurant in Bled

I wanted to visit this restaurant two years ago but didn’t get a chance to. This time we did, and it was a really cool dining experience. Especially the how to place was designed to have little running stream under the table where you’re sitting, or the patch of grass on the table. Set in a big greenhouse with lots of plants inside, it felt like we were eating in the garden (but there’s also an option to sit outside of course) The menu was focused on local using local and seasonal ingredients as well as utilising what were at their best in the restaurant’s garden.
It was quite expensive for Slovenian standard, but portion for the main course was also rather big (compared to other restaurants of the same range in Italy) I had trout from Bohinj and my boyfriend had organic beef cutlets served with carrot soufflé (which he really loved and later got the recipe from the chef as well) We also had dessert, mine was štruklji filled with cheese and tarragon, and his was their own version of the so-called deconstructed Bled cream cake. We were not impressed by neither of them. The štruklji was way too savoury, fatty and on top of that it was warm, as much as I enjoy savoury desserts, that was a little bit too much to handle. The custard layer of his cream cake was way too jellied and not as nice as the original one.
Although big compliment on the multigrain seeded bread, that was delicious.
After the meal, we talked to the chef who then showed us around the whole place. My boyfriend and him exchanged their passion for cooking while I documented the place. Not everything about the place was perfect but it was for sure a great experience.

I came across The Eatery in Rome on Instagram a while back. I was drawn to the simplicity of their food, but more importantly the philosophy behind their cooking. Fresh, seasonal produces, quality over quantity, and the connect between ingredients, the person who cooks them, and the people who eat them. How food connects all these elements together, encourages sharing and understanding.
A couple of months ago, I got a chance to follow Domenico and Sofia, a couple behind this project, through the process of their work, from foraging, shopping for ingredients at local markets, fermenting bread, cooking and then serving the food to 12 people seated in their living room for their pop-up dinner.


I remember the conversation I had on the balcony with Domenico on the afternoon I arrived in Rome. His beliefs and ways of cooking and working in the kitchen was simple and down to earth. It was hard for me to transfer his passion and beliefs into words, or even through interview I did with him for their Crowdfunding campaign, Marigold. For him, it wasn’t just about the food, nor even the ingredients, it started from the people. The people who grow the food, the people who work in the kitchen, from the head chef to the dishwasher. Knowing what to buy and how much to buy in order to reduce waste, and once in the kitchen treating each ingredient with respect and bring out their best potential in each dish. If you want to work in the kitchen, it’s probably hard to believe that an opportunity to work in this kind of environment exists.



Early in the morning, we went to the nearby Villa Pamphili to forage some edible flowers and nettles which Domenico later transformed into lovely little green gnocchi served with brown butter and purple basil. We also went to the local market nearby to shop for fruit and vegetables, as well as some cheeses and fresh fish from the fishmongers. If possible, I know that Domenico would rather drive to the sea and catch the seafood himself.





Sofie, on the other hand, took care of the bread and desserts. She turned her ‘pasta madre’ into lovely fresh bread, both Danish rye and country sourdough baked in Dutch oven which later was served with Danish butter on the dinner table (because as local as you want to be, sometimes local butter in Italy is not the best idea…) Her best creation, in my opinion, was the brown bread ice cream. Vanilla ice cream with lots and lots of caramelised rye bread crumbs that added not only the crunchiness but also the deep, dark malty flavour of the rye bread. This tub of ice cream was a monster and it was very dangerous to be around.


The tiny kitchen in their apartment got crowded as people started to arrive and actions began to happen. Domenico and Amanda, who would come to help in the kitchen during some dinners, did everything from picking and arranging herbs and micro greens from the balcony, cooking, plating and washing the dishes. Seven different dishes was created during the evening and brought out to the table by Sofie, where twelve guests sat together and enjoy their wonderful dinner.
The night was long and everyone was tired, but it those little moments when you saw how much people enjoyed and appreciated your food that was the best fuel and kept the energy up high until the end of the night.




The Eatery in Rome will be moving to a new home, Marigold, in Ostiense this October, where it would have its own space bigger than just a living room and an apartment kitchen. I’m excited and curious to see how Domenico and Sofie will turn the space into something different and offer something new to the people in Rome.

We became friends because of the tea and homemade Thai cookies I offered her at my house on the first day we met. That day, it was just my random act of…I don’t even know what I was thinking that day, but apparently I left some kind of good impression on Ruta.

And so our friendship grew and grew, probably out of that one cookie (or maybe two) I offered her on the sofa in my garden. When she offered to cook us a summer-ry pink beetroot soup, I imagined it to be like the Russian borscht without meat in it. Maybe it’s my preconception that Russia, Lithuania, Latvia and the countries in those areas have very similar cultures (which I still think it’s true, to a certain extend)


Though this pink soup was something entirely different, a combination of aroma, taste and texture completely new to my sense. It was cold, light and herby, just on  the line between savoury and sweet.

Plus, it was very easy to make, and would leave you feel very nourished afterwards.

The beetroot was cooked until tender, grated and seasoned with salt, lemon juice and honey. Then she added chopped dill, spring onion and cucumber and mixed them together. As Ruta said, this is more like a liquid salad than a soup.


One of the main ingredients in this soup was kefir, the lacto-fermanted milk, which is not hard to find in Russian/Polish shops.The creamy cured milk was added to the beetroot mix and everything just magically turned into pink.

For many reasons, this was a summer dish. With the cucumber and dill which added a very refreshing note, the soup was also served chilled with dill-infused boiled potatoes and boiled egg.


It was a cold stunning day at the end of winter in England. We enjoyed the cheery ‘šaltibarščiai’ in our well-heated kitchen, where so many memories were created. It felt almost like summer then.

The combination of flavours from this traditional comfort food surprised me, and it reminded me that there is always something to discover from any cultures, even from the least expected ones.