my tollbooth

good eats

Eating my way across six different countries.

England

Fish and chips: England is known for many things—great food isn’t one of them. When your most iconic dish is something fried accompanied by something else fried, you know your culinary mastery is lacking.

Bangers and mash: Classic pub staple—sausages and mashed potatoes

Cream tea: This is probably one of the things I’ll miss most about England. Nothing beats a good cup of tea and a fruit scone smothered with strawberry jam and clotted cream.

Pasty: The traditional Cornish pasty is filled with beef, potatoes and onions, but this particular one had tomatoes, cheese and basil. 

Morocco

Vegetable tagine: A tagine is a clay pot used to steam different types of food. This one was just vegetables served with flatbread, but there are also meat tagines such as lamb or chicken.

Harira: A traditional Berber soup of lentils and tomatoes served with dates, lemons and olives.

Vegetable couscous: Morrocans love their couscous, and it’s absolutely delicious—much lighter and finer than the couscous back home.

Moroccan pastries: The bakeries in Morocco are filled with countless varieties of small pastries. Many are phyllo-based or contain nuts. Also macaroon-like ones and chocolate-filled ones.

Spain

Tostado con queso y hamon: An Andalucian breakfast of toast with ham and cheese

Tortilla de patatas: Spanish omelette with sour cream

Palmera huevo: The classic French palmier but with an egg custard on top

Seafood paella: Spanish fried rice

Italy

Caprese pizza: Mozzarella cheese, tomato and basil

Ribbolita: A Tuscan vegetable thickened with bread

Fantasia di pecorini delle crete senesi: A cheese platter of different aged pecorino cheeses in Siena. It came with honey and berry preserves which were super tasty.

Tiramisu: Italian cake of ladyfingers soaked in coffee

Risotto with artichoke hearts: What is Italy without pasta?

Gelato: You can’t walk two blocks anywhere in Italy without passing gelato displays. I’m not complaining though—good to look at, even better to eat.

Greece

Greek salad: One of the best salads I’ve ever eaten and so simple: Fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, onions and feta cheese. No dressing, just salt, pepper and herbs

Greek yogurt and honey: American yogurt can’t even compete.

Tzatziki: A sauce made with Greek yogurt and cucumbers that’s delicious with pita bread or just on its own

Spanakopita: My favorite Greek food item: Turns out, spanakopita is found in bakeries rather than on restaurant menus

Baklava: The Greeks are magicians with phyllo dough

Grilled mushrooms: I don’t think this is particularly Greek. But, as a mushroom aficionado, I took a great liking to these. 

France

Escargot: Snails steamed with garlic butter. They’re fun to eat because they come with their own little tools

French onion soup: I’ve never been a fan. In my opinion, bread in soup is too stressful. It’s like trying to eat cornflakes in a hurry because you don’t want them to get soggy in the milk.

Macarons: Almost too pretty to eat. Some extremely exotic flavors too including passion fruit & chocolate, pistachio and creme brulee

Floating island: French dessert of meringue floating on creme anglaise, according to Wikipedia. It tasted like a giant marshmallow with almonds and custard.

top 10 memorable moments (part 2)

6. What’s the difference between traveling in Morocco and being a homeless person? Turns out, not much. Since we were taking an overnight train from Marrakech to Tangier the first night, we were quite literally homeless. This meant carrying all of our luggage along, brushing teeth in train station bathrooms and yes—going a couple days without showering. I was handling our hygiene situation pretty well until a camel drooled on me in Tangier, and I had to walk the streets of Morocco with a green stain on my white fleece. Camel saliva, apparently, is a bright algae-green color. He did it on purpose too; I could’ve sworn the cheeky guy was laughing at me.

7. Florence is the birthplace of Renaissance art, so naturally, visits to the Uffizi and Accademia Gallery were on our list. The Uffizi is known for crowds of tourists and long lines, so we were up at 6:30 to be the first in line when the museum opened. By the time the doors opened at 8:15, the line was wrapped around the building. Lucky for us, not only were we the first group in, we got in for free since it was Culture Week across Europe. But all of this waking up early, climbing towers and navigating Italian cities was really taking a toll on me. After her daily caffeine fix, Jing was bouncing through Florence, but I was dragging a little. As Jing zoomed off to explore the sculptures and paintings of the Accademia Gallery, I collapsed in a heap at the foot of the David for a good 20 minutes. The David has a little machine hooked up to it that monitors potential earthquakes and makes sure that it’ll survive any tremors. Good to know that if an earthquake hits Florence, the city might go to pieces, but David will be just fine.

8. To be honest, I was very concerned about living in hostels. The thought of sharing a room with seven strangers, communal bathrooms and waking up handcuffed in a dungeon cell (Hey, they made a movie about it. It could happen.) is enough to give anyone the heebie jeebies. But we were exceptionally lucky with our hostels and met quite a few interesting characters. There was a Korean girl in Venice who was traveling by herself through 10 countries in a month. There was a very sweet Dutch girl who we shared a cab with visiting Milan. Oh, and there was an old 60 something guy who showed up in the middle of the night in our room at the Bergamo hostel—that was a little unsettling.

9. The trick to eating well in Italy is to find the real Italian places that aren’t simply catering to tourists. Our very hospitable and charming host, Fabrizio, was kind enough to direct us to some of his favorite spots in Siena and recommend some Italian desserts. We ate dinner at this small Tuscan restaurant that had menus handwritten in Italian. This wasn’t too much of a problem because the waiter was more than happy to translate it for us, and Jing was crushing on him pretty hard by the end of the evening. (On a side note, Jing got many quizzical stares from waiters throughout our trip every time she mentioned that she was a vegetarian. They all seemed baffled that someone could possibly survive without eating meat. In Greece, the only items she could eat were off the appetizer menu.) We also filled up on many classic Italian sweets likericciarelli, panforte and tiramisu.

10. One of my favorite parts of the trip was just watching the sun rise and set: Watching the sun set behind the Grand Mosque in Tangier, waking up at 6 in the morning to watch the sunrise from the rooftop of our hotel in Corfu, seeing the sun set over the Arno River as tourists line the Ponte Vecchio. It might sound like a cliche, but the best moments are the ones you don’t need to pay admission for. 

top 10 memorable moments (part 1)

In no particular order—some of the highlights from my recent exploits in the Mediterranean.

1. You know you visit a restaurant too much when you’re considered a “regular” and you’ve barely been in the country for two days. While in Corfu, we fell in love with a seafood restaurant called Paxino’s and ate there no less than three times within the span of 48 hours. It was the prettiest place, complete with flower-adorned window sills and photos of the family that owned it (a la My Big Fat Greek Wedding). Our favorite item on the menu was the Greek yogurt with honey, which the waitress probably found pretty amusing as its preparation most likely meant drizzling store-bought honey over store-bought yogurt in a dish. But gosh darnit, it was delicious! When we went back for the third time, we got our yogurt on the house.

2. The culmination of nasty weather and poor navigation resulted in the lowest point of our trip in Algeciras. We had just gotten off the ferry from Morocco and received a truly wet and miserable welcome in Spain. From here, we were going to find the station and take the bus to Sevilla. Since Google Maps had informed me that the station was a mere 10 minute walk from the port, I was determined to save money and walk there. By this point, not only was there a torrential downpour, there were galing winds. To top it all off, we got lost, and since it was afternoon siesta, there wasn’t a single person in the streets we could get directions from. I take that back—there was one person: a man standing in a doorway and facing the street. In order to keep my blog G-rated, let’s just say he was enjoying himself. Honestly, I’m not sure what can possibly be so arousing about a hurricane, but I’d seen enough of Algeciras. By the time we found the station, we were both drenched, hungry and thoroughly defeated. Later on, Jing admitted that murderous thoughts had crossed her mind. Given the traumatic experience I’d put us through, I didn’t blame her.

3. Maybe all of this time spent away from Cornell has made us miss the grueling trek up Libe Slope. Whatever the reason, Jing and I made it our mission to climb every tower in every city we visited. It started in Sevilla with the Torre del Oro and Giralda Tower. Next, the Campanile in Firenze and then the Torre del Mangia in Siena. While back-breaking and asthma-inducing, these climbs were truly worthwhile once you get to the top. And seeing as we were eating pastries at every meal and gelato every day while in Italy, it was exercise we needed. By the end of trip, we were both boasting buns of steel.

4. I have mixed feelings about the people in Morocco. During our two days there, I didn’t see any other Asians, which meant that Jing and I were quite the novelty. We couldn’t walk 100 yards without attracting some type of racial comment. Frankly, I was impressed by the variety of Japanese phrases in the typical Moroccan vocabulary given that most of them didn’t even speak English. I had everything from “konichiwa”, “arigato” and “gambatte” yelled at me. And when these phrases were exhausted, I heard the ever creative “ching chong ching.” One man driving a car even went through the effort of taking both hands off the wheel to make squinty Asian eyes at me. On the other hand, we did come across very kind people as well. There are no traffic lights in Morocco, and on one occasion, we  were trying to cross the street. One woman, noticing our futile attempts, gestured to us to stick with her and herded us like little ducklings across the street.

5. On four separate occasions in two different countries, I was hassled by strangers in the street for money. Jing was hassled for money zero times. Either Jing has a magical forcefield or I just look like a sucker. Survival tip for visitors to Marrakech: Never pull out a map or look lost in public. You will be immediately swarmed by people eager to give you directions. And while this sounds perfectly fine, it’s only after they show you to your destination that they’ll demand you pay for their services. This happened to me twice in Morocco, and when I refused to hand over any money, the guy followed us for 10 minutes while incessantly tugging on my sleeve. In Spain, they use a different tactic. Squat, elderly women stop you in the street and thrust some type of fragrant plant in your hand. Then they read your palms, tell you about your future and demand cash in return—apparently, I’m going to fall in love and have two kids.

individual mandate: what’s all the fuss?

It was a big week at the Supreme Court. The justices have been hearing oral arguments as they prepare to decide the fate of Obamacare. At the crux of the debate is the issue of the individual mandate: Is it constitutional for the government to force every American citizen to purchase healthcare?

The issue being overlooked is that of fairness and equality. If we want affordable healthcare when we need it, we should all be sharing the responsibility to pay for it. The alternative is much less glamorous:

It’s no secret that healthcare in the US is expensive. For the average, healthy 20 year old male, premiums can run between $2000-3000 annually. When you’re a recent college grad working an entry-level job and paying off student loans, that’s a lot of money. So, instead of paying the hefty premiums, young people usually opt out of health insurance if it’s not covered by an employer. How likely is it that they’ll end up in the hospital anyway, right? When you’re 20, you’re invincible. But suddenly you’re in a car accident and rushed to the ER. Even without coverage, you’re guaranteed medical attention. Who foots the bill? The rest of us with insurance plans. And the more often this happens, the higher the premiums get.

The way the current system works, there’s no incentive for healthy people to buy insurance plans. So who buys healthcare? The elderly, the people with pre-existing conditions; in other words, the people that insurance companies don’t want to cover. It’s a vicious cycle of higher and higher premiums.

The purpose of the individual mandate is to lower premiums across the board by forcing everyone to pay their share. With more money in the system, insurance companies are happier too, and they can absorb the cost that comes with Obamacare’s expanded coverage.

Conservatives are reeling because they see the mandate as just another example of big government imposing on individual liberties. They argue that if the government can force us to buy insurance, what’s stopping them from making us purchase American manufactured products or fuel efficient cars. Justice Scalia, for example, argued:

Everybody has to buy food sooner or later, so you define the market as food, therefore, everybody is in the market; therefore, you can make people buy broccoli.

Now, this analogy is completely inaccurate. The healthcare market is unique because everyone is linked. When you go to the hospital without insurance, my insurance becomes more expensive. When you decide not to buy $1 broccoli, my broccoli won’t suddenly cost $2.

Finally, I think this fear that passing the individual mandate will suddenly increase federal power is unwarranted and irrelevant. The US healthcare system is in dire need of remodeling—millions of Americans are counting on it. That should take priority over squabbles of political consequences. And, let’s say there are future laws demanding people to buy crazy things. We can deal with these on a case-by-case basis, and the citizens will decide what is necessary and what is not. After all, isn’t that what a democracy is for?

the curious case of english cuisine

When menu items in the UK just aren’t what you had in mind…

Bangers and Mash

EXPECTATION:

A Viking pop duo (hit single to be released next month: “I Would Raid a Village for You Baby)

REALITY:

Sausages and mashed potatoes

Bubble and Squeak 

EXPECTATION:

What happens when you accidentally swallow a bar of soap

REALITY:

Fried leftover vegetables

Toad in the Hole

EXPECTATION:

Frog preparing for a stealthy attack

REALITY:

Pork sausage in Yorkshire pudding 

Knickerbocker glory

EXPECTATION:

The excitement you feel when you find pants for sale

REALITY:

Ice cream sundae with jello and cream

awkward in cambridge

The phenomenon of Americans being socially inept in Cambridge is nothing new. It’s already inspired its very own blog, but some stories just can’t be boiled down into one line.

drawing for your life

“Life drawing” is a deceptively innocuous name. The term implies drawing to enhance your life. It’s like when people talk about “life lessons” or hire a “life coach”—they’re either trying to be pithy or have really sad lives. So, when I heard about a free life drawing class, I pictured myself drawing bowls of fruit and discussing the meaning of existence. You can imagine my surprise when I walk in on Day One and realize we’d be drawing naked people—old naked people. 

After the initial shock though, I actually found myself enjoying the class. In general, the models don’t talk much and just focus on posing so the novelty of naked people kind of wears off. I say “in general” because there was one guy who was amusingly shameless in his model role. Most of the models silently do their poses and when the time is up, quickly grab their robes and sit in the corner while the instructor talks. Not this guy. He’d brazenly walk around in the buff and provide commentary while he decided on a position and posed. Things like, “I’m going to make this interesting for you guys. How about I grab this giant board and hold it over my head?”

what in the blazes is a s’more?

Recently I was catching up on all of the Big Bang Theory episodes I’d missed, and Sheldon was roasting marshmallows over a Bunsen burner. Realizing just how much I missed s’mores, I decided it was time to bring the classic campfire treat to England. My British hallmates had absolutely no idea what on earth a s’more was. Matters were only complicated by the fact that graham crackers simply do not exist in the UK, and the only large marshmallows I could find in the grocery store were raspberry and vanilla flavored. 

Remember those digestive biscuits I told you about though? Turns out they’re the perfect substitute for graham crackers, and the s’mores were a smashing success. And if you’ve never tried a s’more with white chocolate and raspberry marshmallows, put it on your to-do list ASAP.

taking creepy to a whole new level

Back at home you know you’ve hit the relationship jackpot when you date the football jock or the frat star. Here in Cambridge, choral scholars top the pecking order (or so I’ve been told). So, naturally, I’ve become hopelessly infatuated with a certain baritone singer. Of course, he has no idea who I am, but if you see the same girl sitting front row at all of your concerts, you’re bound to notice eventually right?

At the most recent concert, I mustered up all of my courage and waited around after the show hoping to talk to him. It turned out to be a bust since he left with a friend, so for the next five weeks of break, I can only attempt to stage casual run-ins on the street. I consulted Michael:

Me: That’s super creepy right? If I walk past St. John’s 50 times a day?

Michael: No no, that’s not creepy…

Me: Oh phew, okay good.

Michael:…that’s just desperate.

once a foreigner, always a foreigner

The strangest thing happened to me today while I was on a guided walking tour of Cambridge. It was an event sponsored by the Cambridge Science Festival where a guide showed us sights of Cambridge interspersed with stories about the university’s scientists. Near the end of the tour, one of the older ladies turned to me and asked slowly, “Have you been able to understand all of the English?”

Excuse me?

After I explained to her that I was an American from Cornell studying in Cambridge for the semester, she apologized profusely, but I was still stunned and not sure whether to be offended or not. In all my years growing up in the U.S., no one has ever assumed that I didn’t speak English. And since when has the topic of language aptitude become an appropriate conversation starter?

blasts from cambridge

I should really update this more often. Any outsider stumbling on my blog would think that all I’ve done during my study abroad experience is struggle with laundry and nitpick desserts.

1.) So, I went on a blind date. But in my defense, it was for charity. While short of a complete disaster, there was absolutely no chance for romance here. Let’s review:

• He refused to eat anything on the date. Apparently being a vegetarian means he’s only allowed to eat food he cooks for himself. He did order coffee though. He pronounced it “mo-cha”.
• He proudly told me that he once spent 24 hours watching How I Met Your Mother. Barney Stinson is his idol. Too bad he hasn’t got any of NPH’s game.
• He asked multiple times if he was boring me. If you have to ask, you know there’s a problem.

2.) I spent Valentine’s Day having tea and scones with some very cool people. The conversation ranged from Nazism to political theory. It’s so refreshing to have friends to do incredibly nerdy things with. One particularly epic night comes to mind that can only be summed up thus:

It’s kind of odd to be single on Valentine’s Day though. As Jing would say, “I hope guys don’t smell desperation the way dogs smell fear.”

3.) Since we’re on the topic of scones, can I just say how much I love them? By the end of my Cambridge semester, I’d like to be an expert on scones. Expect a post soon rating all of the scones I’ve eaten.

4.) In general, my classes are going pretty well. I love my media and politics lecture. The lecturer is American so I can relate to all of the references she makes. I was practically giddy when she mentioned Christiane Amanpour in one of her lectures. I’m also taking a lecture series on the music industry which means that during lecture we mostly watch music videos. The lecturer used to be a music producer, and he’s one of those guys who probably doesn’t take his teaching job too seriously. One time, only 3 of us showed up to class, so he ended up sending us home early and told us to watch a movie on YouTube.

I’m not loving my politics lecture as much though. Within the span of one lecture, the professor can go from talking about Gandhi to Foucault to the Statue of Liberty to the Chinese economy. I expressed my frustration to my supervisor. The conversation went something like this:

Me: I’m having trouble following the lectures. I feel like the lecturer doesn’t really have much of a focus.

Evaleila: Oh, who’s the lecturer?

Me: Dr. Gamble

Evaleila: Ah, well, you see…Gamble rambles.

And that was the end of that.

5.) I love my hallmates. They cook for me all the time you see. My upstairs hallmate Mary-Lise is French and really enjoys baking. One time she was making pancetta and cheese biscuits and stopped by my room to give me on. And then on Pancake Day my next door neighbor, Richard, knocked on my door and asked me if I could help him out: He had made too many pancakes and needed help eating them. Um, YES. Richard is absolutely lovable. He’s kind of chubby and he’s a Scout, which is the British equivalent of a Boy Scout. On weekends he goes on Scout trips, which in my head means he goes camping in the woods and makes fires by rubbing sticks together.

6.) I shamelessly admit that I joined the Cambridge Taiwanese Society in the hopes that I would find an attractive Asian boy with a British accent. Unfortunately, this plan has proved unfruitful thus far. However, I have succeeded in winning the hearts of Asian moms. A few weeks ago I was invited to a CTS Mom’s house for dinner. It was everything you’d expect and more. There was endless food, and when I could no longer eat another bite, I was given a doggy bag to take home. 

7.) Note to self: Bring camera along EVERYWHERE. The one time I forgot my camera, we saw Stephen Hawking rolling through the streets of Cambridge.

snow day

Today also marks my one-year tumblr anniversary!