Lost Explorer...

After all of the months that COVID-19 has kept me very close to my home, many weeks not venturing outside of a one mile radius that I would walk to get some exercise, I knew that I was mourning the loss of travel. I recently began to identify more specifically what aspects of travel I enjoyed that are not possible right now. I miss exploring. I miss the adventure of the unknown. I miss the challenge of successfully navigating a new place and the impromptu conversations I would have along the way. I miss trying new things. I miss the myriad of information I learn about the place I am traveling, ranging from history to climate and transit. I miss the feeling of anticipation of an adventure and the energy that bursts forth as I embark on a trip. 

I have enjoyed using my time to set a routine around my home and neighborhood, but I cannot deny that nothing has replaced the excitement that I experience when on a trip! 

Earlier this year, I dedicated umpteen hours to planning a trip to Peru. In my usual style, I researched where I wanted to eat, forever worried that I will miss out on an opportunity to discover what "authentic" and unusual foods I can try while outside of the country. Then, I looked into how to travel most efficiently and cost effectively from city to city, decided how many days to stay and which part of the city I wanted to find a place to rent, using access to public transit as a primary motivator for that decision. Then, just like that, I began to hear rumblings that there was a big virus causing reduced traveling as people were being discouraged from running around the world. Remembering back to those days, I was optimistic that it was something that would clear up before my trip, but little did I know that a worldwide pandemic was beginning. Of course, the trip was canceled as travel was not allowed at that time. I remained optimistic and assumed that I would be able to take my next trip in the fall, as certainly life would return to normal after several months. The trip that I had planned to France was for September. The world was in no better shape in September than it had been in March. Therefore, again I had no choice but to stay home. 

So here I sit in my living room on election night 2020, a room I have spent more days occupying than any other place this year. When trying to see the silver lining in being at home this year, I do see the beauty in having found more gratitude for my home and enjoying the moments of stillness and. Standing in my kitchen and sipping a cup of coffee or sprawled out on the living room floor with a book without urgency to be anywhere else has afforded lovely moments of peace. Nevertheless, I eagerly await resuming my roaming around the globe, or at least around the city. 

Food As A Passion

As I began to discover my strong interest in food, I had to rectify a little lifelong issue...I have some food intolerances. When I was a child, I would become sick, an experience that was similar to food poisoning, every so often. Initially, my parents believed that I had some stomach bug. However, they began to observe a clear pattern. The "sick" always looked the same, my body wanted to purge something, but without any fever or other symptoms. Eventually, I had allergy testing completed and it was confirmed that my body did not tolerate chicken or pork, and also garlic and maltodextrin. Although somewhat an annoyance, it was not very difficult to avoid these foods when I lived at home and I became accustomed to subtly avoiding those foods when I was eating with friends or, on the rare occasion at that time in my life, eating at a restaurant. However, as a adult becoming infatuated with the cuisine of other cultures, this revealed a new challenge. How would I ever find out what authentic (and well known) foods tasted like if if I had to be avoiding food? Could I never understand the lure of Ramen? Or dumplings? Also, how would I avoid an accidental exposure to these foods if I was in another country or simply in a restaurant with people who did not speak fluent English, as is the case in many restaurants in Los Angeles??? A few years later, I also was diagnosed with several autoimmune diseases and so I stopped eating gluten, a recommendation made in order to avoid excess inflammation. I knew that it was worth it in hopes of improving my health, but what a limitation to put on someone who loves food! 

Frustrating as it was, I was not deterred by these parameters. It did encroach on my freedom to try "anything", but it also created an opportunity to have interesting conversations with waiters and chefs as I advocated for myself. Also, it motivated me to try cooking a number of things at home, which resulted in learning about food on another level. 

During the experience of cooking, I gained an undeniable appreciation for the effort of creating and cooking and this allowed me to find a new creative outlet. Initially, I followed recipes with carefully researched substitutions. I Googled the best way to make homemade sausage and how to get the best outcome when using turkey rather than pork. I learned about the importance of gluten in baking and why it is so challenging to create gluten free bread that is not dry and dense. I learned about the importance of various aspects of any recipe to obtain balance and how to counteract a mistake, such as adding too much salt. Rather than this being daunting, it became a fun challenge for me and fueled my passion for food. As I learned more and had more experiences, I also became less intimidated that I would have an accidental exposure to the allergens when I was eating out. Primarily, it stoked the fire and excitement that I had to continue learning more! I began to believe that I could cook anything! Nothing was too large of a challenge! 

The Food Adventures Continue

The more that I tried new foods, the more that I hunger for them. It is more than just the food. It is the experience. I feel alive when my eyes lock onto something that looks unfamiliar while walking through a market followed by an informative conversation with the person selling the food. I used to worry that I was an annoyance, but more often than not, it is a magnetic force of someone getting to share their passion with me, someone very willing to soak up whatever they can tell me. This can happen in a grocery store, restaurant, or market. Anytime that someone is present to tell me about the product that I stumbled on. Some of my favorite memories are standing in a local farmer's market and learning about a local guy who roasts his own coffee to sell at the market. Another time, I was tasting cheese and getting the story about the source of the cheese from the cheesemonger followed by recommendations to try several other things with similarly unexpectedly complex flavors. 

I fell in love with some "entry" foods. Foods that got me so interested in experiencing more. These may not be foods I would write home about anymore, but I have not forgotten the mental snapshots of the moments that I first tasted them. They were significant enough that I knew I was falling for food. They were foods that made me wonder, if I never knew this existed, then what else have I yet to taste that may be even more phenomenal? I have yet to tire of the search. 

My List: 

Ewephoria sheep milk cheese

Stumptown coffee 

Dandelion chocolate 

Graber olives 

Sauternais wine

Cherimoya 

Sapote 

My Food Journey

I suppose that I will officially admit that I am enamored with food. I have allowed it to cast a spell over me that willingly continue to remain under it. But from whence did this stem?

As a child, I had a fairly typical midwestern exposure to food, but with little nuances that added variety.My maternal grandmother was Armenian, so at times she would make lahmajoun or sarma, requiring an entire day of cooking, as she made enough to feed our family, which consisted of six children, for more than one meal. I also had baklava, tabbouli, and lamb, which other children on my school bus certainly were not fed at home. Below, I am pictured putting the finishing touches on crimping the edges of lahmajoun before baking. 

My paternal grandmother was Polish and at times made Chrusciki. I had eaten Pierogi and Paczki. Beyond that, the food I grew up eating was fairly healthy, garden grown in the summer, and rare instances of eating outside of the home. I learned to cook up basics like frozen vegetables, french bread pizza, spaghetti, steak, and hamburgers. My training was adequate that I cooked for my family at least once a week and cooking to feed myself after moving away to college was no problem. The first time that I remember being excited about a particular restaurant, it was the discovery of a place adjacent to my college campus known for having a vast variety of dipping sauces. They served everything from sauces that were really an entree, such as a Philly cheesesteak" style to one with a Mediterranean flare. Somehow this felt like creative cuisine to me.

A few years later, I began really enjoying baking, taking baked goods to work, making cakes for friends, and learning that I could execute baked goods at a level decent enough that I had plenty of willing consumers. I even took the time to get paperwork to register with the local farmer's market, imagining that maybe I would select a few recipes to sell each month. 

Before that idea took flight, I moved to California. A number of things happened in the intervening years. First, I began to travel a little bit outside of the country, exposing me to international cuisine that was authentic, as I was never sure if a midwestern restaurant was adequately representing whatever genre they claimed, and I was also dating, going out to eat, and learning about what and how other people eat. I think it is key to note that I was always open to trying new foods and did not struggle with any feelings of pickiness or aversion to food, but instead was always willing to try something new with the assumption that if another culture found it to be worthy of eating, then I was ready to try it. Over the years, I have also come to believe that if I do not care for a food, it is likely due to the way it was prepared and that I will enjoy it if cooked another way or by someone more skilled. 

My willingness to try new foods opened unlimited food experiences. The more that I tasted, the more my interest and hunger to find new foods grew. Now, I feel most alive when surprised by an unexpected flavor combination or when wandering through a foreign marketplace and seeing something that I do not recognize, followed by tasting and researching what it is. 

Vides Wine Bar - Madrid, Spain

 Where to drink wine in the capitol of Spain, you ask? VIDES! 

If ratings are your thing, then know that Vides Vinoteca comes in as number 6 on the "Top 50" list of wine bars in Europe. Not too shabby. They boast over a hundred bottles of Spanish wines and serve only Spanish wines, but sourced from around the country. Further, their specialty is focused on obtaining specialty small production wines, but with the reputation of finding those of high quality. They even have their own wine label that is available as well. 

When I arrived to Vides, an airy glass entrance greeted me, erasing the line between the sidewalk and the interior. Once inside, I was enveloped by a moderate amount of visual clutter made up of typical wine bar paraphernalia. I arrived in the afternoon just as the bar was opening so that I could be sure to get a seat, which is not guaranteed here during busier hours. Also, I was hoping that the bar might be sparse on patrons so that I would have the opportunity to ask the multitude of questions that always plague me. 

After an overly lengthy examination of the menu, I selected the wine pictured below. I felt silly looking at the menu for so long, particularly because I was confident in the reviews that raved about the high quality of the wine. Although certainly any choice I made would be solid, I was perusing for something unusual, or at least some varietal that was unfamiliar to me. I selected Godello. 

This wine is a straw color. It is 100% Godello from Castilla y Leon region. It is fruity and has a soft velvet like mouthfeel. Although it is not dry nor acidic, I would not necessarily consider it particularly sweet, as it is described as having a touch of smoke and herbaceous qualities as well. Refreshing in the late afternoon. 

I also can plead my slow wine selection on the very detailed menu, which is below.

The menu is color coordinated with each colors having significance. One of the deals included is the exact place if production. I also enjoyed a taste of sparkling wine that was crisp and clean and would have been complimentary to nearly any food. 

I decided to only enjoy the drink menu, but Vides also has a tapas menu with the classic (and undoubtedly quality), Spanish plates represented. Selections included a range of different cheese options, with multiple types of Manchebo, but also items such as Iberico ham or an omelette.

To improve an already lovely experience, a mother and daughter duo happened to arrive and sit next to me at the bar. As it would happen, they were from the United States and one of them was even from Los Angeles. Somehow, finding someone from home when on the other side of the world frequently can lead to an instant connection. I enjoyed our serendipitous meeting and was able to share the tidbits of foodie knowledge that I had acquired during my time in the city, as they had only just arrived and eagerly made notes about my recommendations. 

Another heart warming moment is this striking picture of a vineyard stretching out behind the boy and man clad in red suits. 

This picture hangs on the wall and has a large presence in the small bar. I learned it to be  picture of the current owner, Vicente, standing with his father when he was young. 

Below, you can see Vicente working a the bar on the day that I visited, sans red suit. 

Enjoy experiencing this spot yourself. A good glass of wine is certain to greet you! 

And in 2020...

So, here I am. Sitting in my cozy living room where I have spent more hours this year than I ever imagined. The thought passes that I am grateful that I enjoy and find contentment in my little space. I like to explore and see and experience things. A picture or story might be an inspiration for me in order to fuel an idea for my own exploration, but it brings me only fleeting excitement, if any. I feel alive and energetic when I see for myself, touch for myself, taste for myself, know for myself the direct experiences of life. Then, once done, I am poised and ready for the next new experience. But, 2020, you paused my spirit while in full tilt. You pushed a pause button on my busy routine and forced me to see that my spirit also has potential for another facet in which to take joy. Joy in simple. Joy in routine. Joy in not only accepting, but embracing the pause that was pushed without my consent.

"Stay at home". That phrase held other connotations in the past. The idea of rest. The idea of luxury to "do nothing". And now, staying at home has been implemented as our new normal. Many times I have given thought as to whether we have strayed too far from this routine of the past when families would routinely be at home and together or less hectic schedules afforded the opportunity for long walks and long talks.

My routine now has become taking a long walk each night in an aimless wandering around my neighborhood. I have met a few people and a greater number of faces become familiar, even as they have become half clothed in a mask over the last few months since masking has become gradually more common, and now standard outerwear. More than the distant and limited nodding to these faces, I have taken the time to look around myself. I have "found" hidden driveways, beautiful driveway entrances and doorways, appreciated flowers blooming and fruits growing.