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Posts tagged as: growing up italian

Growing up Italian: I “Pasta” like my Grandma

Today, I would have made Nonna Peppa proud. I made Spinach pasta dough with Quail eggs, shaped it two ways, and prepared a simple sauce to go with it. Can’t wait for leftovers!

Growing up Italian: The taste of Memories

Nonno ate healthy, made his own wine, raised his own chickens, and grew his own garden.

Ricotta Citrus Pancakes and Orange Rosemary Marmalade

A breakfast so good, I could eat it all day long 🙂

Growing Up Italian: You are going to be in hot water….soon!

Ever since the Etruscan times, then the Romans, mixing flour and water has been very popular. To these days, an ancient Etruscan stove top bread called Torta al Testo is still part of the Umbrian diet.

Growing up Italian: Black is the new … Pasta

Why do I love squid ink so much? Whatever the reason, today I couldn’t wait to come home from work and relax making some homemade pasta for dinner; a sexy looking one too!

Growing up Italian: More than a pie, It’s a Spaghetti Pie!

Wine and Food compliment each other, enhance each other. Sometimes they are opposite in taste (spicy / sweet) and that is ok, too. Like marriages or friendships, is often a fine balance that makes them work. I recently started attending a wine pairing class, and met Sarah Tunnell. Yes! The Frugal Wine Gal from EDN […]

Growing Up Italian: The Travel Bug

Italians abroad are everywhere, seems like. Loud, stylish, insubordinate, rule-breakers-tourists.
Then, there are the travelers. Respectful, conscientious,curious and educated. I like to think I always belonged to the second category…

Growing up Italian: It’s all Greek to me, today :)

When one lives in Italy, the neighboring countries are just that. Places that seem so far away from Oregon, were just “around the corner” from me, while growing up. Many European capitals are reachable in less than 3 hours, with a quick flight from Rome.

Growing up Italian: My Little Christmas Story

I am a September baby. That means that, by the time my first Christmas rolled around, I was barely 3 months old. Clearly, I don’t remember a thing. Fortunately, my Dad was wise enough to take pictures.

Growing up Italian: My American Family Part 2

Here is what I learned from life: Diamonds are NOT a girl’s best friends. FRIENDS are. I know, truth can hurt, and don’t get me wrong…I like the bling bling, too. When it comes to real life, though, everybody needs a very close friend. A BFF as they call them now.

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