The city that time forgot

January 9, 20154 Comments

We took advantage of a recent sunny Saturday to visit Civita di Bagnoregio (which I will now refer to as CdB for the remainder of the post). CdB was a little over an hour from Rome. You have to drive straight through the town of Bagnoregio to get there.

Check this out.

I know. It’s pretty ridiculous, right? CdB used to be bigger, but pieces have been falling off the cliffs for centuries. It is known as il paese che muore or “the town that is dying.” Now you can only reach the town by bridge. This means by foot, motorcycle, or Ape are your only choices up. There is ramp all the way so you could take a stroller or wheelchair if you wanted. I did not, but we saw people that did. I can report that an ambitious toddler can walk or run almost all the way up on his own.

Before we set off up the bridge, we did a little parking shuffle. The first pay lot we hit is close to Caffe Belvedere. (Belvedere seemed to have some nice outdoor seating with a tiny playground nearby.) But we weren’t there for the food. We were there for this:

And then we realized that we would have to hike down before hiking up again. We saw some perilous looking stairs. This was not what the guidebook told us. James noticed another lot down under the bridge. We had been directed into the upper lot, but maybe we could try again? At least we got some great views.

I think they are trying to limit the lower lot to people with mobility issues or bambini, but you could probably just do it. For this lot, take a right immediately before the parking lot. It turns out, most people in the upper lot walk on the road to access the city. I’m not sure if people actually use the stairs.

We parked again (pay lot) and bought tickets for CdB. Tickets were 1.50 euro for adults.

The walk up wasn’t too bad, even while wearing a baby. The town itself was incredible to see. Even though it is probably about as old as Volterra and San Gimignano, it felt older. Stately, but a little crumbly. The town was also full of cats, an unexpected bonus for Henry.

Note the daylight behind those windows. A palace used to be there until it fell off in an earthquake.

This is the main piazza with the church. The town has a live Nativity scene during the holidays, but it was not happening when we were there. We did see a large rabbit and chickens in a cage that may or may not have been a part of the scene.

We ate at L’Antico Frantoio Bruschetteria, famous for its 1500 year old olive press, which we sat right beside. The restaurant seemed practically hewn out of the rock. Seriously, it felt like you were entering a cave. All in all, it was a decent meal. We had a prosciutto plate and bruschetta. It was just cold. So very cold. Not the food, the restaurant. The unremarkable quarter liter of red wine we got was colder than most white wines you find. I only realized on the way out that they were cooking everything on a very small open fire at the front.

When we emerged, the sky was grayer and moodier. We poked around a little more and then started the trek back to the car. We blew up nap time, which the kids made us pay for over the next few days. But I would definitely call this a town that was worth it.

Happy weekend everyone!

How tidy is tidy enough?

January 8, 2015February 4, 20164 Comments

I’ve been seeing some buzz about a book: Marie Kondo’s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing. Modern Mrs. Darcy covered it; she’s a fan of the folding method. Laura Vanderkam suggested not cleaning up can be a more useful philosophy. Nicole and Maggie mention an earlier post questioning the wisdom of raising children to feel stressed out by clutter.

I love a good organizing book, but I haven’t read Kondo’s book yet. I may. We’ll see.

As I try to assimilate our lovely Christmas gifts into our home, I’ve been thinking about stuff. And cleaning. New year, new start, right?

For me, there are two separate issues here. Tidying involves moving around things. Cleaning involves removal of dirt and grime.

On the tidying front, we did a lot of “de-owning” before our move to Italy. I read Joshua Becker’s Clutterfree with Kids an at opportune time. He stresses de-owning possessions over organizing them. If you are organizing things, it is just a shell game. You are still spending energy on cleaning, maintaining, and housing the things. It is better to just get ride of them entirely than to be beholden to your things.

I like this idea. We really don’t need that much stuff. I rotate toys to keep from being overwhelmed by them. I’ve embraced minimalist dressing and should really purge my closet again. James cut back on clothes and has expressed enjoyment at having a well curated closet full of things he likes. We still have more stuff than we need, but I like the idea of only keeping around things you need and like. Kondo suggests you should not keep things unless they “spark joy.” I get that.

On the cleaning front, I’m all over the place. We still don’t have any cleaning help. In the early days here, I had a daily schedule together. I cleaned about 20 minutes a day, and I felt like we were on top of things. Then life happened. We spent more time seeing friends and getting out of the house. This is a good thing, but it made chores harder. I refuse to do chores when the kids are napping. The chore window feels limited.

I’ve also let it go. Kitchen and bathrooms get special attention. I find that doing a little bit daily or weekly makes a big difference. If I clean the bathrooms once a week, I can do it in 15 minutes. (Does not include floors. Or mirrors.) If I wait, the stuck on grime starts to feel insurmountable. I really need to work on the floors more. The baby is not yet crawling, but the kids live on the floor. But I don’t need to vacuum every day. My general cleaning philosophy is to be clean enough that things are sanitary and you wouldn’t shy away from an unexpected guest.

And for me, this is where tidying and cleaning intersect. I think cleaning is easier to do if things are generally tidy. Right now I really need to vacuum the rug, but the kids toys are all over it. Kitchen counters are a lot easier to wipe if they are clutter free. I think my more militant cleaning schedule worked in the early days because all of our stuff hadn’t shown up yet.

I’m still trying to find my groove. I came across this cleaning schedule printable while reading this awesomely interesting article on following Pinterest’s most popular for a week.

So I decided to do it as well. Without further adieu, let me present my own cleaning schedule printable for your consumption:

Nothing on here is mandatory, as you would know by the current state of my floors. ABL – always be laundrying is an important tenet. Our one floor dwelling has made laundry much easier. I don’t really mind laundry except the putting clothes away part, which I suppose is sort of like saying that you don’t mind marathons except the running part.

And please don’t think I’m doing this alone. James does 99% of the after dinner clean-up, trash/recycling removal, and more.

But as you can see, a lot doesn’t get done. Dusting is rare. I haven’t cleaned any ceiling blades or windows. This is mostly working for us for now. At least until our next change in schedule anyway! Mac already seems to be dropping his morning nap . . .

Do you have a cleaning schedule? I’d love to hear! What is your mess tolerance? Have you noticed a correlation between amount of stuff and ease of cleaning?

Our Christmas in Italy

January 6, 2015February 4, 201611 Comments

This was our first Christmas in Italy. Our first Christmas away from family. We missed everyone very much, but we did have some fun here.

Henry and I made a pomander. One of his new Christmas books talks about making one, and I thought it could be a fun craft to do together. I was wrong. Stabbing those cloves in was hard for me. There was no way Henry could do it. Martha’s it is not, but at least it looked a little better than my usual Pinterest fails.

This pomander is now in the rubbish. I don’t really get how you are supposed to keep this in your sock drawer and not have it mold.

We visited an exhibition on Nativity Scenes near Piazza del Popolo. There were sets from around the world, which reminded me of the (free!) display at the Mormon Temple outside DC, elaborate sets made in Italy, which seemed to feature Jesus nestled in your local town amongst the trattorias, and sets made of unconventional materials, which included sets made from shoe horns and various types of pasta. It was pretty impressive. Only mildly extremely crowded. Henry enjoyed it. Sadly, no pictures allowed.

Our building had a very fun and awesome holiday house crawl. I love that it feels like college here sometimes when you could just go see people without leaving the building. On the crawl, I discovered the “Dirty Girl Scout” which is now one of my new favorite cocktails. I’m a sucker for peppermint at the holidays. Or any other time of year really.

I used the opportunity to bust out an awesome gift from my MIL, her own blazer from her own pre-kids era. This now vintage blazer is so well-made and beautiful that it really deserves more play, but I at least make sure it sees the light for the holidays. And I promise that if I continue to take mirror selfies, I will find a better pose. (Yup, still wearing that shirt.)

We heard that Romans don’t really “do Christmas.” This seemed strange considering the location, and I thought it was unfair. Granted, we didn’t see as many lights as in Germany, but most shops put out festive garlands and lights.

Downtown had tons of awesome lights. Via del Corso was lined with lights showing flag from every country, which I’m told is to celebrate the upcoming World’s Fair in Milan. The tree at Piazza Venezia was ridic.

James bet I wouldn’t put this photo on the internets. It’s like he doesn’t even know me.

The grocery stores also filled up with lots of holiday treats. There were literally stacks of panettone and pandoro, panettone’s more buttery cousin. Henry and I had a very Italian moment when we skipped down the street with our carby goodness.

They were pretty good. They were even better as french toast. That’s right, we just can’t stop french toasting leftovers, but I can’t claim credit for the idea this time.

We were very excited to receive a Christmas dinner invitation from some new friends. Not cooking was great. Enjoying delicious food with friends was even better. James made this cake. It is easily the best cake he has ever made in his entire life. I won the no limit hold ’em tournament, a family tradition of theirs. (This is another tradition I can definitely get behind.)

We had our first visitors! Our dear dear friends, who are also the boys’ godparents, came for three jam-packed days. We rode bikes at Borghese–which will almost certainly be more enjoyable when the cold wind isn’t blowing in your face, ate pasta, and enjoyed catching up. It was very special to see them and it means a lot that they made the trip.

The boys have some exciting new toys. Henry is in car heaven. Mac has new things to chew on, which is pretty much his jam. We have some very wonderful family and friends, who not only sent things halfway across the world but wrapped them as well! I’m beyond touched and can’t thank them enough.

That’s right. BE jealous of our Christmas jammies.

It was a full and fun festive season. How about you? I hope you enjoyed all of your holidays!

A New Year’s tradition I can get behind

January 5, 2015February 4, 20162 Comments

And we’re baaaaack! Happy New Year, everyone! I hope you had wonderful holidays and are not too bummed about the upcoming drabness of January and February.

Growing up, I always dreaded New Year’s Day. No, not because of some existential angst about the passing of another year or because of a sparkling cider hangover. It was because New Year’s Day meant the traditional Southern meal of collard greens, black eyed peas, and rice. Apparently, the greens are to bring you money, the peas to bring change (like pocket change, not yes-we-can change), and the rice to bring health. I always thought the peas were redundant because if you had greenbacks, was change really necessary? I also thought everything in this meal was gross. Even the rice, which sounded safe, was some box mix that was soggy and disappointing. To top it all off, my mom served some barbecue concoction from the freezer section that was also gross. Picture pre-sauced pork with bits of fat and bone in it served in its square plastic box. For years, I thought I hated barbecue because I thought this was all barbecue was. (I love you, Mom!! To honor you, I refrained from washing clothes on New Year’s so as not to wash anyone out of my life. Although not doing laundry for a day really isn’t a hardship.) Needless to say, I did not continue this tradition with my own family.

Fast forward to Italy, a friend here asked me if I noticed all the stacked boxes of a certain type of meat that showed up in the groceries stores in December. Cotechino, to be exact. I had not, but once she mentioned it, I did notice the meats everywhere. It turns out, cotechino (made up of various fatty bits of pork with a disturbingly long shelf life) eaten with lentils is a traditional New Year’s meal in Italy. Although many Italians eat it at midnight, we opted to try it on the actual New Year’s Day. The more lentils you eat, the more prosperity in the coming year.

And by we, I mean James. He could tell you more on his preparation methods, but he soaked the lentils a very long time. Like longer than overnight.

Then he cooked them with pancetta, onions, garlic, and homemade stock.

Once removed from the box, you see that the cotechino is in its own aluminum pouch. You boil the pouch.

Then you prick the bag and add the meat juice to the lentils. Later, you just remove the cotechino from the bag and slice.

I’m not gonna lie; I was a little anxious about the meal. Mystery meat makes me nervous and super fatty meat is not my jam. All of my worry was completely misplaced. This. was. stupid. good. The lentils on their own were very flavorful. I may be adding more beans to our meal lineup. But with the cotechino, the whole thing just went up about 38 levels. The cotechino just melted into the lentils. Everything had a delicious salty and fatty flavor. We all loved it, including the toddler, but that isn’t really saying much, beans and sausage are both his jam.

It was a very rich meal. I couldn’t imagine eating it after a large New Year’s Eve meal, but it was terrific as a New Year’s Day lunch. (With leftovers for dinner.) As an added bonus, this would be an ideal hangover food. Not an issue for me though. NYE this year was prosecco, sushi, and watching Sherlock with James, which was a pretty perfect night. Which also is an indication that I’m getting old.

I had not planned on staying up until midnight, but I can report that Italians are crazy about their NYE fireworks. We had been warned, but I thought after the fireworks spectacular in our old ‘hood in DC (Columbia Heights, represent!), we would be prepared. We were not. It really sounded like we were being bombed, and while the fireworks were present all evening, they were really raining down on us at midnight. Luckily, the kids slept right through.

So, new family New Year’s tradition, ACHIEVED. Now I just have to see if I can get cotechino back home. With the shelf life on this stuff though, I could be set for several years if I just grab a few boxes before we leave.

What did you eat on New Year’s? Any family traditions?

Merry Christmas!

December 24, 2014February 4, 2016Leave a comment

Wishing all the best to you and yours.

No tears but after we got the pic, Henry slid off Santa’s lap, handed back the present, and bolted.

P.S. I’m taking Christmas vacation. See you back here on January 5!

To market, to market

December 23, 201410 Comments

I heart Christkindlmarkts. And Munich had some great ones. We talked about what we ate already, but let’s take a look at the markets themselves.

The heart of the market was at Marienplatz. You recognize it from its famous Glockenspiel. The market covered the whole square.

It radiated out from Marienplatz down three separate streets.

And had little side bits near Marienplatz.

There was another market Sendlinger Tor, complete with carousel.

There was also a separate Medieval Market.

As well as a market in the courtyard of the Residenz.

What does one do a Christmas market? Mostly just wander around. Eating. Drinking. Most of the shops–that aren’t selling food–peddle various tchotchkes. Christmas ornaments. Delicate wooden candle wraps. Knit hats and slippers. Toys. The markets were crowded, sometimes uncomfortably so. But wandering around, breathing the chilly air, a warm drink in hand, soaking in the sights. It just feels festive.

For an alternative market experience, you can also head out to Tollwood at Theresienwiese, the grounds for Oktoberfest. This felt sort of like if Asheville or Portland had a Christmas market. Younger. Both hipper and hippy.

We enjoyed live music and beer inside this tent. Henry danced as if no one was watching, which pretty much ensured that plenty of people were watching him.

Ah, markets. I’m already thinking about which city to hit next holiday season.

How to make perfect popcorn

December 22, 2014February 4, 20162 Comments

Hands down, the best thing I can make is popcorn. At first, I thought that was a little sad, but I’m ok with it. I instantly know what my best dish is. Quick: can you name yours in the next three seconds? GO.

Bet you couldn’t. Or I bet you have so many winners that you just couldn’t narrow it down. Well played.

Anyway, once upon a time, we went through some pretty serious microwave popcorn phases growing up. Like I could eat an entire bag in one sitting. Like my sister and I fought over who got to rake their nails through the possibly-cancer-linked goodness on the side of the bag. Like I did a science fair project on which brands popped better. (This was a terrible idea because I ended up sitting and counting hundreds of popped kernels of popcorn. Science projects were more of a let’s-get-this-over-with endeavor at my house; less of a trying-to-win-the-fair-and-further-science-for-mankind type of projects.)

When I did study abroad in Germany, I missed many familiar flavors. Popcorn was one of them. Alas, I could find no microwave bags of popcorn. What could I do??? Eventually, I noticed that they do have loose kernels. Like for campfires. Or pilgrims. Or something. But I remembered that one friend I had in middle school whose mom made us popcorn ON THE STOVE. I was so intrigued by this that I made a point to watch her.

So I gave it a go. And I’ve never gone back. #stovetopforlife Please keep reading if you would like to ruin any other popcorn experiences in your life and create a snack that is not at all good to have around the house with toddlers.

First up, find some kernels. I have no brand loyalty, but I do like yellow kernels over white ones. (“Kernel” is turning into one of those words for me that sounds super weird when you say it over and over. Kernel. Kernel. Kernel. Such a strange word.)

Next up, select a popcorn pot. Mine is the smallest size from my Revere Ware set. Which I think is from college. Nice.

Be prepared for this pot to possibly get a little charred. Mine is pretty much a dedicated popcorn pot which may or may not get completely cleaned in between every use. (I make a lot of popcorn.) Wow, this is pretty much the grossest tutorial ever. How hard would it have been for me to swipe a paper towel around the pot? But if that is too much, you know I’m not going to go back and reshoot these pics. Pinterest this is not.

Next, get your olive oil. I like Extra Virgin Olive Oil. I don’t add any butter at the end, and you can really taste that EVOO goodness in every bite.

Pour the oil to cover the bottom of the pot. Then pour some more. And then probably a little more for good measure. James swears he does exactly what I do when he makes popcorn, but his is undeniably not as good. I think this is the critical difference. You want at least a finger of oil in there.

Turn on your burner low to medium heat. Mine has a dial that goes to ten; I set it at four. I took a picture of this, but if you thought the pot picture is gross, you really do not want to see that one. Clean my oven. I’m on it.

Then, add your kernels. (Heh, kernels.) I try to aim for a single layer covering the bottom.

Put the lid on the pot. You would think this would be obvious, but you’d be surprised . . .

Now you listen for those little beauties to pop. Alton Brown recommends shaking the entire time, but I usually only do a shake or two. For me, being done is less about waiting for the kernels to die down and more about seeing when they lift the lid. But that is just because of my familiarity with my designated popcorn pot. Lid lifting coincides with near popping conclusion.

Once they start to lift the lid, I remove from heat. I usually wait ten seconds after the last pop to pour them out. You never know when there will be a diva straggler.

When you pour them in the bowl and see the unpopped kernels, you have a baseline as to whether you should add fewer next time. There will always be a few duds, but the goal is to minimize this number. #nokernelleftbehind

And now you salt. For added fanciness, I’ve been dabbling with fancy salts. Bourbon salt has paired well. Here is my truffle salt. Go wild!

But first, I like to use a base layer of regular salt. I salt once around the bowl, shake it down, salt again around the bowl, and then add a pinch of fancy salt on top. Remember, it is easier to add more salt than to remove salt.*

And then, ta da! You have a bowl of perfectly popped goodness. I think popcorn is especially great for the holidays and for cold weather. Again, sadly, not a great snack for young kids.

*Alas, I can offer you no salt removal tips. If you shake it, it may sift more to the bottom? You can’t expect this sort of kitchen magic from someone who can’t be bothered to fully clean a pot before taking pictures to put on the internets.

Do you stove top? Any popcorn tips? What’s your best dish?

The answer is always Henry

December 19, 2014February 4, 20163 Comments

Why is there a deflated balloon in the refrigerator?

Why is there a metal spoon in the couch cushions?

Why is the veggie steamer on my nightstand?

Henry. The answer is always Henry.

Oh, Henry. It feels not long ago that you turned two and now you are two and a quarter. You are a force of life. You are always on the go. “Mas running” is still one of your favorite games. Lately, you want to climb everything in sight. I do the best I can to spot you while wearing a baby. Thankfully no damage too serious yet, but we do call you Head-Injury-Henry for a reason.

You still love balls. Kicking is your jam and you always get comments on your skillz, but you have picked up your throwing and catching game as well. You love trains and motos and planes. Especially planes. You pore over your Encyclopedia of Military Aircraft, each page exclaiming “Airplane! Airplane! Look at that airplane!” We read a lot too, which I love because reading is awesome and it is one of the only times you let me cuddle.

I can’t believe how much you talk. You can tell me what colors the airplanes are and that they are landing in the water or zooming in the sky. We really do have somewhat legitimate conversations. Very recently you started putting your “please” sentences together and can say things like “can I have my sticker book please?” Color me impressed.

You are very social. You have a circle of friends here that you seem delighted to see. Sometimes it takes you a little bit to warm up, but I’m always amazed how eager you are to seek out new playmates. You fearlessly stalked some kids at the market in Munich, and after I translated for you, you and your new buds ran around terrorizing the patrons at the gluhbier stand. (More on gluhbier later; shocking to no one, hot beer is NOT as delicious as hot wine.) You’ve been approaching Italian kids at the playgrounds too. We are working on getting you into daycare for a morning or two each week. This is less about giving me a break and more about giving you some more peeps to run around with. (Particularly until you turn three and we have to decide if we want to go the pricey private preschool route.)

I’d say you are generally mild-mannered, for a toddler, but you do have your share of meltdowns. I’m always blown away by how food-motivated you are. I can flash one M&M and you will happily climb obediently into your stroller. I don’t love bribing you and try to avoid it, but sometimes one M&M or cracker is a pretty reasonable price to pay for compliance.

I think you’ve been growing. I haven’t measured you lately, but you can reach more elevator buttons than when we got here. You certainly feel a bit heavier. And you have so much hair! I love that you have enough hair that it can get messed up. We’ll do a haircut someday. But not yet.

Things are never boring with you around. I have honed negotiation skills that I never dreamed I would need. (Seriously, I think “getting toddlers to do things” should be a legitimate resume bullet.) For example, in between when I started writing this and now, you had an EPIC meltdown that was solved when I eventually got you to eat and sang a spur-of-the-moment-creation “I’m a pizza monster.” (To be released next year. See you at the Grammies, suckas! That’s the awards one for music again, right?) You kept cracking up and your giggles were so sweet that it almost made up for the previous half hour of screaming and hating everything. (Haha, not even close. But it was a welcome, joyful sound.)

Life with you can be tiring, but it is very fun. It is certainly never dull.

Love, Mom

The finest gelato in the land

December 18, 2014February 4, 20169 Comments

(As I alluded to here,) Rome’s best gelato is Come il Latte. This place has everything: chocolate fountains, salted caramel gelato (caramello al sale), and toddler facial hair. What is toddler facial hair? It’s that thing where you let your toddler have his own cone of gelato and he comes up with inventive beard and mustache patterns.

So that could pretty much be the whole post right there, but I will expand. Now I know what you’re thinking. Melissa, you’ve only been in Rome a hot minute. Can you really say that you have found the best gelato? You haven’t posted anything else about gelato. You haven’t been on a gelato crawl. You haven’t hit the places that are touted as best in the city. How can you possibly make such an outlandish claim??

And I hear you. That’s valid. But also poppycock. Because this is the real deal. Thank goodness this place is not right by my house because that would be Trouble. (Get it, trouble with a capital T!)

First up, this place is adorable. I love the windows. The chalkboard. The way the bonus desserts are displayed. It’s super cute. They have a few seats inside so you can ogle the gelato and benches out front.

Next, did I mention the chocolate fountains? One dark chocolate and one white, which I am only mentioning in the sake of blog reportage because why on earth would you pick white over dark? Although I guess it could be good with the fruit flavors. And probably many of the others. I’ll probably never know because . . .

Did I mention that they have salted caramel??? This stuff is so good. Stupid good. When you add chocolate fountain and homemade whipped cream (which I highly recommend), it becomes a truly otherworldly experience. They do have many other yummy looking flavors. James enjoyed the coffee and I think chocolate. Maybe I’ll get there someday. But it will probably be awhile.

So there you have it. Rome’s bestest gelato. Creamy. Rich. Not crazy sweet. If you get a cone, they put chocolate in the bottom AND on top. Not smack dab in the middle of downtown, but very close. And they are open late! I think till midnight. Which makes it a perfect place to stop after your late night (or at the usual time if you are Italian) dinner.

See, and you thought this was going to become all Germany all-the-time up in here, didn’t you? Don’t worry, you’ll get sick of hearing about the trip soon enough. But as I say, there’s always room for gelato.

Come il latte | Via Silvio Spaventa, 24/26 – Roma | tel. 06.42903882

I like to eat street meat

December 17, 20146 Comments

Granted, this post could have just been named “I like to eat” and it would be completely accurate, but inexplicably I ADORE eating while walking. Something about food while on the move just makes me happy. I sometimes joke (not really joking) that I could walk forever if you just kept feeding me things. This is why I find it so strange that the Italians generally buy gelato and then stand/sit outside the store and eat it. I supposed they would say they are savoring it. I say, don’t you know you could take that gelato on the road?? Best. walk. ever.

Christmas markets are the perfect spot to indulge in an eat-and-walk. And you can drink-and-walk too! (But we’ll cover drinks later.) It is pretty much the best thing ever. It’s like the state fair, but classier and more festive.

Up first, we had plenty of actual meat. Here, you can see me with your standard bratwurst. We pretty much avoided the traditional Munich weisswurst, as we are not huge fans. But we did have plenty of currywurst, which is a sliced bratwurst in a tomato curry sauce. James also discovered a deep love for the Nurnberger bratwurst, which are smaller and served three or five to a roll. As James will tell you, there is more surface area for more crispy skin deliciousness. I thought the Nurnberger ones tasted a tad breakfasty, but very delicious. There were fish sandwich vendors as well, but we never got around to trying it.

Up next, the baumstriezel. This was new to me, but it is not one I will soon forget. It is basically just dough that sort of looks like it is cooked on a spit and topped with deliciousness. We tried coconut, but preferred the simple sugar and cinnamon version.

Note the bundled toddler. Henry will pretty much stay in the stroller as long as he is getting food. Can’t imagine where he gets it . . .

We also had a pretty epic strudel experience in Nuremberg. Here is James with the hazelnut strudel. When I ordered, the lady asked “apple or hazelnut?” We opted for hazelnut, but when I went back, the strudel was all gone. The moral of this story is that if a nice German lady asks “apple or hazelnut,” you should say “yes please!”

We didn’t seem to take any pictures, but we also enjoyed french fries, crepes, and roasted almonds (both traditional and nutella-flavored). And probably other things I’m forgetting. You can ask James; I was constantly darting off, a few euro in my pocket and returning with something to eat. It was awesome.

Some honorable mentions that we didn’t eat but looked fascinating.

Here, we have the schoko doner. Instead of meat, you can see the pillar of chocolate that was shaved off into various things.

And here, middle, you can see the marzipan potatoes. Zee Germans are a little obsessed with marzipan and a lot obsessed with potatoes so I suppose this was inevitable. I like marzipan as a sort of condiment to a dessert item. This is a lot of marzipan.

And a special note on lebkuchen. Because you can’t mention a Christmas market and not talk about lebkuchen. You can see some of them dangling in the photo above. They are everywhere. We did try an iced one. They are sort of like gingerbread, but I like them less. James seemed to enjoy it. He brought some for his office and one of his colleagues who lived in Germany before said it took her back. This is true. Love it or hate it, lebkuchen = Christmas market.

Do you like a walk and eat? I say it’s like a Sorkin walk and talk, only better!

Roman Reboot

Ever wanted to blow up your life?

The city that time forgot

How tidy is tidy enough?

Our Christmas in Italy

A New Year’s tradition I can get behind

Merry Christmas!

To market, to market

How to make perfect popcorn

The answer is always Henry

The finest gelato in the land

I like to eat street meat

Thought this was neat-o mosquito? Would love for you to pass it on!

Thought this was neat-o mosquito? Would love for you to pass it on!

Thought this was neat-o mosquito? Would love for you to pass it on!

Thought this was neat-o mosquito? Would love for you to pass it on!

Thought this was neat-o mosquito? Would love for you to pass it on!

Thought this was neat-o mosquito? Would love for you to pass it on!

Thought this was neat-o mosquito? Would love for you to pass it on!

Thought this was neat-o mosquito? Would love for you to pass it on!

Thought this was neat-o mosquito? Would love for you to pass it on!

Thought this was neat-o mosquito? Would love for you to pass it on!