How I Taught My Brother to Travel

8 Comments

Comment by Laura on January 25, 2009 at 7:27am

I love to travel, except I'm not rich enought to travel as often as I'd like !
I wish I could say : "lets go to "St Barth" next week-end ...

Comment by Patrick on January 26, 2009 at 8:04am

Regardless of where I have been, how I got there or where I may go in the future the food aspect always remains the same. First off, I need to know where the bakeries and espresso bars are. If staying somewhere that I can cook at then I search out the local, small food retailers for my goods. I look for food I know plus food that is indigenous to the area. If I am staying at a place where I can't cook, then I seek out small (family type owned) eateries typically off the beaten path. I rarely, if ever, search out "restaurants". They serve no purpose to me. The closer I can get to home cooking the better. It helps to talk to locals to get a few ideas on where the best eats are in the area. The best places for me to eat are usually the "diamonds in the rough". The smaller the better. I guess a good question to ask to find good food would be to say, "where do I find cooking as good as Grandma's?" The bottom line though, if possible, is to be able to cook your own food with local ingredients or eat some place that represents local authenticity with the deepest traditional roots still intact.

Comment by Patrick on January 26, 2009 at 3:13pm

A tribute to Johnny "Rolf Harris Cash" Barrows

Comment by Debbie on January 26, 2009 at 4:13pm

John should be called the “The Accidental Food Tourist”, remember the movie “The Accidental Tourist” with William Hurt? (I read the book and saw the movie, both were great). Well, that’s what this travel group reminds me of.

A “short” synopsis of my travels……………….

Well, I’ve been to hell and back. As I travel through life, I can’t say I feasted well on all the foods during those travels, but learned to appreciate what I was able to have; but most of my favorites are cherished from ancestors. In the beginning, childhood, we (brother and sister, also) grew up on cheese and peanut butter that was given to the poor at the armory. Also, we learned to love mayonnaise and/or mustard sandwiches on Sunbeam bread. However, my Grandmother had a passion at cooking and making great meals that she learned from her (my great-grandmother which I remember vividly with the wood/coal stoves) mother. When she (Nana) showed up every other Saturday with bananas, we were so thrilled to see them in her shopping bag and whatever other goodies she brought. On every other weekend I spent at her apartment, I learned to appreciate the salt pork fried crisp for munching on after being rendered for cooking a meal, she also used real butter, whole milk, etc. This is where I began to appreciate foods from Hungry and Czechoslovakia.

Halfway through my travels at 17, I dated a neighbor boy, whose family descended from Sicily. I learned and dined on the best Italian cuisine, authentic to the core. I learned to appreciate seafood, shell fish (sans the dry cod) and found out about the best cheesecake ever baked. That’s also where I found out (to my naivety) we were neighbors to Arthur Avenue (next to where my father grew up in the Bronx….duh!).

Along the way, lost paths lead me to the best…Patrick Barrows. I have learned very much from him and also from John. But PATRICK taught ME how to cook (in addition to my Nana)! I am “Old Fashioned” and appreciate tradition, that is what my grandchildren will learn. (((Jeanette will hold that thought for at least five more years))).

I’ve traveled these United States, Canada and to Italy, the Turks, Abacos (thank you Judy! my favorite place on earth for their wonderful conch sandwiches and to which I would love to retire!) also through my Nana cooking, I have traveled to Hungry and Czechoslovakia. And to Patrick who made the earth move, which has landed me on every map known! : ) Yeeeee haaaaaaaaaaaa!

Comment by Debbie on January 26, 2009 at 4:14pm

Love the song! How perfect is that? : )

Comment by John Barrows on January 26, 2009 at 6:20pm

OK - here's a the first tidbit of advice I'll give you freeloaders out there. One of my favorite restaurants in Florence, "iL Latini". Read this review I found, Patrick, and decide if it meets your standards:

"Narcisso Latini opened this cheap locals' eatin' joint in 1950. Now in his mid-90s, Narcisso still stops by to lend a hand. For dinner, arrive at 7:30pm to get in the crowd massed at the door, for even with a reservation you'll have to wait as they skillfully fit parties together at the communal tables. In fact, getting thrown together with strangers and sharing a common meal is part of the fun here. Under hundreds of hanging prosciutto ham hocks, the waiters try their hardest to keep a menu away from you and serve instead a filling, traditional set meal with bottomless wine. This usually kicks off with ribollita and pappa al pomodoro or penne strascicate (in a ragù mixed with cream). If everyone agrees on the arrosto misto, you can get a table-filling platter heaped high with assorted roast meats. Finish off with a round of cantucci con vin santo for everyone."

I (John talking now) remember the first time I went in here (we found it by accident on a side street) in the 1980's with an American business acquaintance, we sat amidst all the other local couples and ate the same thing as everyone else, that was piled on the long table. People would just join the fray, eat, and leave - vacating a spot for the next couple. As each couple left, they hollered "cassa" and Gianni would show up (a short rotund guy) and he'd say "cinquanta-cinque lire". They'd pay and leave. My friend and I were speaking in English with one another, the whole evening, and when we were done, I yelled "cassa!". Up ran Gianni. "Due persone", I said. "Cento dieci lire", he replied. In my best Italian I explained that every other couple was paying half that. Without blinking an eye, trying to explain, or apologizing he said in English, "Oh, I make a mistake. Mi scusi! Cinquanta cinque lire, signore!". Ah the Italian art of the attempted scam. Fluid and flawless, and without even a slight blush.

Comment by Patrick on January 27, 2009 at 5:15am

Nope. I don't wait in lines. Florence is fine for sight seeing and a quick gelato but I will head for the nearby hills and find a little hole in the wall.

Comment by Patrick on February 13, 2009 at 3:35am

During the warmer months me and friends hit the roads on our motorcycles and cruise the countryside looking for out of the way road food joints. This was the catalyst for creating our own Road Kill Cafe.

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