Blood Orange Tart

When we were in Italy this summer we travelled around and got to see beautiful cities like Milan and Florence. But it was Vernazza, one of five small fishing villages that make up Cinque Terre, that was most memorable for me. The main street that runs down the center of Vernazza is lined with small boutiques, restaurants, and gelaterias. The street, made of flat square stones, runs from the top of the village, where a flight of stairs leads up to the train station, down to the pier, where colorful fishing boats are docked and people lay soaking up the sun.

Branching of off the main street are narrow streets with the doorsteps to apartment buildings on either side. The apartments like all other buildings in Vernazza are painted light pastel colors and the windows shaded with deep green shutters. Clothes hang on the clotheslines below the windows and potted flowers sit on windowsills and the doorsteps of ground floor apartments. These apartments exude a warm feeling of home and life.
The apartment we rented was on the second story so when I pushed open the shutters I could look down to see people walking on the main street and look out to see the pier and the Mediterranean.

In the afternoons we read our books while bathing in the sun on the beach or the pier. When the afternoon became hot or the sun, blinding, I set my book down on a rock with my clothes and towel and jumped off the pier into the cool, salty sea. I rested there for a while, floating. Melting into the slow rhythm of the waves.
After a refreshing swim one day, my sister and I strolled up to the main street with a few coins in hand looking for something to eat. The village is the size of a small neighborhood so my dad didn't mind letting us walk by ourselves. We stopped at a pizzeria and exchanged a coin for a piece of focaccia topped with tomato and herbs. We sat down at a table outside and shared the bread while watching passersby.

Gingerbread Cake

As a kid, I couldn't stand PB&J sandwiches. How did I survive my childhood? Simple. My mom drizzled molasses on my peanut butter sandwiches. It wasn't uncommon to find the molasses dripping out from the sides of the sandwich, and on some days come lunch time my sandwich bag would be a sticky, black mess; but I loved those peanut butter and molasses sandwiches nonetheless. And though I eventually moved on to other sandwich fixings, my affinity for the dark, sticky syrup has never diminished.

While baking this gingerbread cake I helped myself to spoonfuls of molasses . Sweet yet bitter, earthy yet smooth, blackstrap molasses has a complex and intriguing flavor that is not lost on this cake. The molasses, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves blend together and compliment each other so nicely that the resulting gingerbread seems like its own unique spice or flavor, than the combination of many.

As the cake came together the smell of gingerbread filled our kitchen and warmed my soul. The sweet, spiced aroma of gingerbread was enveloping and, like hearing a familiar song you haven't listened to in a while, it filled me with nostalgia.

Continuing the tradition that she had with her grandmother, my mom baked molasses cookies with my sister and I each year at Christmas when we were younger. We haven't made the cookies in a few years now and the tradition had slipped from my mind, but the smell of gingerbread in the oven reminded me of rolling out the soft, dark brown dough, cutting out christmas trees and santa clause, as well as a slightly less festive assortment of dinosaurs and dog bones.

Chai Hot Chocolate

My first encounter with spiced chocolate was over the summer when a mysterious bag of chocolates showed up on our doorstep kitchen counter. When it appeared I waited a few days to see who would claim the small bag of individually wrapped squares of chocolate. I assumed that is was a gift for someone, so I waited, and I eyed the chocolates longingly each time I passed through the kitchen. This went on for a few days until one morning I came downstairs for my early bird 10 o'clock breakfast and glanced over at the bag of chocolates to see that it had been untied.

Inside were two types of chocolates: dark chocolate with espresso bean and masala chai spiced chocolate. The squares were melt-in-your-mouth thin and just enough to satisfy a craving. The espresso squares were a bit too bland for my taste so I took to the masala chai spiced squares. I was hesitant at first, having tried a variety of unconventional flavors paired with chocolate -jalapeño, chili pepper, and orange with crushed peppercorns- none of which I enjoyed. But the delicate harmony of the chai spices with the complexity of the masala left a dimensional and delightful flavor in my mouth. I began to wonder what I could do with this beautiful relationship; this harmony of chocolate and spice.