briciole

Snapdragon & Banana Split

Snapdragon

Look closely at the kinetic sculpture and you will recognize things that in your house have residence in the kitchen. Eureka artist Duane Flatmo used them creatively for the joy of the crowd gathered as usual on the Arcata Plaza to watch the start of the Kinetic Grand Champioship the Saturday before Memorial Day. (Note: for the name of the sculpture, I followed the artist's words in the caption to this photo on his Facebook page).

Race aficionados have come to expect fireworks (figuratively and literally) from Flatmo. This recent article shows some of his drawings that have become actual sculptures.

Banana Split

A number of the kinetic sculptures competing this year were food-inspired. Among those, the one above stood out, in my opinion, not only for its colors, but also for the craftsmanship.

The race spans the three days of the long weekend and covers various terrains, from asphalt to sand, from water to mud. You can read more about the Kinetic Grand Champioship (formerly known as the Kinetic Sculpture Race) here and about Hobart Brown, its creator, here. 

This is my contribution to edition #85 of Black and White Wednesday - A Culinary Photography Event created by Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook, now organized by Cinzia of Cindystar, and hosted this week by Priya of The Humpty Dumpty Kitchen.

The photos were shot in color and then converted to sepia (Lightroom preset Sepia Tone).

This post contains the gallery of images submitted to the event.

On this page, you can find out who is hosting the current and future editions of the event.

Havarti con aneto / dill Havarti

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

just sliced

Traveling with the Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea (European Community Culinary ABC), we've arrived in Denmark (Danimarca). Finally, we are in a country I have visited, albeit briefly.

It was in Denmark that I first experienced the long days characteristic of summer in northern Europe. One August, years ago, three friends of mine and I drove from Italy to Norway and back, a wonderful trip that brought us to seven countries: Switzerland, Austria, Liechtenstein, Germany, Denmark, Sweden and Norway. 

On our way up, we visited Copenhagen, where I enjoyed our walk inside the Kastellet, "one of the best preserved star fortresses in Northern Europe." We paid a visit to the Little Mermaid (Sirenetta), but didn't see it well, because shortly before we arrived close enough to get a good look at the famous little statue, a busload of tourists descended upon the poor girl, all but blocking her from sight.

We spent the night in Roskilde, famous for its music festival. The window in our room did not have a serranda, the tight-closing shutter common in Italian homes, but not, as I already knew, elsewhere. Looking at the window from my bed I noticed that, even when my watch indicated a late hour, the sky was not completely dark.

In Helsingor, "known internationally for its castle Kronborg, where William Shakespeare's play Hamlet is set," we took the ferry to Helsingborg, in Sweden. I have some photos from that trip but due to some moving of stuff that happened in our house recently, they are in an unidentified box, so I cannot share them here.

a view of the curds

To celebrate our stop, I decided to make a Danish cheese (formaggio danese) that has been on my to-do list for a while: Havarti. Sometimes a cheese with bold flavor is desired, but other times, a mild flavor is called for and then Havarti is a nice option.

I have several recipes for Havarti in my various cheese-making books. I chose to make the version in Mary Karlin's book, "Artisan Cheese Making at Home," because it has an option to eat the cheese fresh (i.e., not aged), which allowed me to make the cheese, taste it, and write about it within the limit of our sojourn in Denmark.

I followed the recipe almost as given in the book. The home cheese makers among my readers may be interest in knowing that for this cheese, I tried something I had read in "The Joy of Cheesemaking" by Jody Farnham and Marc Druart, namely, I used a blend of pasteurized non-fat milk and pasteurized heavy whipping cream (as an approximation of milk that has not been homogenized).

I don't yet have dill from my little herb garden, but got some as part of my spring CSA share. Since the recipe calls for dried dill and I had fresh dill, I dried a few sprigs in the microwave (my first time doing this) following these instructions. Dill being a delicate herb (erba aromatica), you want to be particularly careful in monitoring the process to avoid burning it. 

the moment of truth

It is always with a bit of trepidation that I plunge the knife into one of my cheeses. In this case, the result matched expectations: my dill Havarti has a mild, fresh flavor of milk with just a light note of dill. It is a nice cheese to put into a sandwich, or to eat plain with my panini quadrifoglio, or with this flatbread. I also used it successfully in my famous roasted strawberry frittata (instead of French Neufchâtel).

I will make this cheese again and this time I will age it a bit. I don't expect most of you to follow me in the making of this cheese, but if you see in in the case of your cheesemonger, why not give Havarti a try?

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My dill Havarti participates to the sixth installment of the Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea (European Community Culinary ABC), an event organized by Trattoria MuVarA that will bring us to visit 26 countries of the EU (all except Italy) using the alphabet as guide. F like Frikadeller (Denmark) is hosted by Leonilde of Le affinità elettive.

This page contains Frikadeller's recipe and the list of recipe contributed to the event.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

Havarti con aneto 

or launch the Havarti con aneto audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

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Havarti, cheese, dill

Havarti con aneto

la prima fetta

L'Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea ci porta in Danimarca. Finalmente siamo in un paese che ho visitato, sebbene molto brevemente.

In Danimarca ho fatto la prima esperienza delle giornate lunghe caratteristiche dell'estate nel Nordeuropa. Un Agosto di un po' di anni fa, io e tre amici abbiamo fatto un bel giro in auto dall'Italia alla Norvegia e ritorno, toccando Svizzera, Austria, Liechtenstein, Germania, Danimarca e Svezia. 

Nel viaggio di andata abbiamo visitato Copenaghen dove ho gradito una lunga passeggiata all'interno del Kastellet, antica fortificazione militare a forma di stella che oggi è un parco aperto al pubblico. Siamo andati dove si trova la statua della Sirenetta, ma non siamo riusciti a vederla bene a causa dell'arrivo poco prima di noi di un autobus pieno di turisti che hanno invaso lo spazio aereo intorno alla povera ragazza bloccandone la vista.

Abbiamo pernottato a Roskilde, famosa per il suo importante festival della musica. La finestra della stanza dove ho dormito non aveva serranda, solo una tenda di stoffa. Dal letto ho notato che nonostante l'ora tarda segnata dal mio orologio, il cielo non era buio.

Ad Helsingor (Elsinore), che è sede del castello di Kronborg, dove William Shakespeare ha ambientato Amleto, abbiamo preso il traghetto per Helsingborg, in Svezia. Ho delle foto del viaggio ma a causa di un recente trasloco interno sono in una scatola priva di identificazione e quindi non sono in grado di condividerle in questo post.

controllo della cagliata

Per celebrare la nostra visita ho deciso di fare dell'Havarti, un formaggio danese che era sulla mia lista da tempo. Talvolta vogliamo un formaggio dal sapore forte e deciso, ma altre volte preferiamo un sapore delicato e in questi casi Havarti è un'ottima opzione.

Ho diverse ricette per fare l'Havarti nei miei libri di arte casearia. Ho scelto di fare la versione nel libro di Mary Karlin "Artisan Cheese Making at Home" (in inglese), perché offre l'opzione di consumare il formaggio fresco, cioè non stagionato, il che mi ha consentito di fare il formaggio, assaggiarlo e parlarne in un post nei limiti di tempo del nostro soggiorno in Danimarca.

Non avrei problemi a tradurre la ricetta in italiano se fossi sicura che potete trovare gli ingredienti per farla, ma mentre so che è possibile acquistare il caglio in farmacia, a quanto ne so in Italia non si trovano i fermenti per inoculare il latte. Se qualcuno scopre che non è così, vi prego di farmelo sapere. [Alcune ricette per fare il formaggio in casa usano lo yogurt per inoculare il latte, ma per fare l'Havarti ci vogliono batteri diversi da quelli che si trovano nello yogurt (ammesso che lo yogurt che usate abbia fermenti lattici vivi).]

Non ho ancora piantine di aneto nel mio orticello e quindi ho usato un po' di quello che ho trovato nella mia cassettina. Dal momento che la ricetta richiede aneto secco e il mio era fresco, ne ho seccati alcuni rametti nel forno a microonde sequendo queste istruzioni. Dato che l'aneto è un'erba aromatica delicata vi consiglio di monitorare con attenzione il processo di essiccamento per evitare di bruciarla. 

il momento della verità

È sempre con un po' di trepidazione che affondo la lama in una delle mie forme di formaggio per tagliare la prima fettina. In questo caso il risultato ha soddisfatto le aspettative: il mio Havarti ha un sapore delicato di latte con giusto una nota di aneto. È un formaggio adatto per fare un panino o da mangiare al naturale, magari con uno dei miei panini quadrifoglio, o con questa schiacciata. L'ho anche usato con successo nella mia famosa frittata con fragole arrosto (invece del French Neufchâtel).

Farò questo formaggio di nuovo e stavolta lo farò stagionare un po'. Spero che il mio post vi faccia venire la curiosità di assaggiare l'Havarti, magari, se lo trovate, quello con l'aneto.

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Con il mio Havarti con aneto partecipo alla sesta tappa dell'Abbecedario culinario della Comunità Europea, un evento organizzato dalla Trattoria MuVarA che ci porterà a visitare i 26 paesi della Comunità Europea (eccetto l'Italia) usando le lettere dell'alfabeto come guida. F come Frikadeller (Danimarca) è ospitata da Leonilde de Le affinità elettive. 

Questa pagina contiene la ricetta per Frikadeller e la lista delle ricette contribuite all'evento.

Se siete interessati a partecipare, questo post contiene la lista completa di paesi, blog ospitanti e scadenze.

per la Giornata della Terra / for Earth Day

sweet hills

The December day was gray, with a clear wish to rain. The expanse of Briones Park, peacefully empty, was exhilarating for the young woman recently arrived from Milan (that is, me). While people were rushing hither and thither to get all the Christmas chores done, we were luxuriating amid softly undulating hills studded with stately oaks. 

My first walk in Briones Park occurred during my first visit to California 20 years ago. I have been back countless times. I have walked on pretty much all its trails (and all around nearby Briones Reservoir). My first photographic project had the Park as subject. I love Briones Park, jewel of the East Bay Regional Park District:

With its rolling, grassy hills and secluded, shady canyons, Briones is a secret wilderness surrounded by the towns of central Contra Costa County. Although the park is close to Lafayette, Walnut Creek, Pleasant Hill, Concord, and Martinez, there are peaks within it from which you can see only park and watershed lands for miles in every direction. [source]

The photo above shows the classic landscape of Briones Park. As the dry season progresses, the grass will dry making the dark green oaks stand out even more.  

on the Briones Crest Trail

After a long stretch in the open, it is nice to enter a short tunnel where the sunlight, filtering through the trees, creates a kind of marbling on the ground. Uphill from this spot, I once met a coyote. Neither of us was particularly excited about the encounter, so we decided to go our separate ways with just a nod as salute.

the sky is the limit

My recent walk in Briones Park occurred on a day where I needed help quieting the turmoil in my mind. I took this image of a path carved on the side of a hill as an invitation to forge ahead.

cattle grazing

Humans and coyotes are not the only creatures sharing the park space. Cattle grazing occurs in Briones Park year round. This page explains how grazing animals benefit this and the other parks that are part of the East Bay Park Regional District:

Livestock grazing utilizing cattle, sheep and goats is used as a vegetation management tool to maintain and improve habitat conditions for resident plants and animals and to prevent wildfires. [source]

A moment of rest

There are various ways of enjoying the natural beauty of the park: hiking, biking, horse-back riding, or resting with your back on the grass and your eyes to the sky. 

I invite you to celebrate Earth Day with a walk in a park (last year, we were in Yosemite National Park), though, of course, every day it Earth Day. 

The Peg House sign

A must stop on Hwy 101

Two miles north of Leggett is a sight to experience. This cozy and historic Redwood Empire structure is held together in the Danish tradition entirely with wooden pegs. The hand hewn beams and Old World craftsmanship pleases visitors from around the world who come here to swim and fish the south fork of the Eel River and explore the magnificent towering redwood corridors. (source)

follow me

The Peg House
69501 Hwy 101, Leggett, CA. 95585

This is my contribution to edition #76 of Black and White Wednesday - A Culinary Photography Event created by Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook, now organized by Cinzia of Cindystar, and hosted this week by Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook.

The photos were shot in color and then converted to black and white (Lightroom preset B&W Split Tone 2).

This post contains the gallery of images submitted to the event.

On this page, you can find out who is hosting the current and future editions of the event.

reginelle / sesame seed cookies

reginella à la Simona

Sicily smells of sesame seeds. Not the actual island, but the Sicily of my memory. I close my eyes, I whisper "Sicilia" and I smell toasted sesame seeds. The same thing happens if I read about Sicily: I open one of my Montalbano books and my nose smiles.

My first visit to Sicily, the summer before I turned 18, overloaded all of my senses in a joyous way: the beauty of churches and other buildings in Palermo, the sticky smell of the hot July days, the pleasant coolness of the sea, the sound of the dialect (of which I learned a few words), the taste of new foods. Of all the novelties my senses encountered, the smell of sesame seeds (semi di sesamo) is the one with highest emotional content. I had never tasted sesame seeds before, not even set my eyes on them. I only knew the name and that they were small.

First, I ate bread with the surface sprinkled with sesame seeds and I was amazed at the amount of flavor the small seeds packed. So, when I saw reginelle, cookies covered with sesame seeds, I did not need any special encouragement to pick one up (gently, to avoid seed loss) and bring it to my mouth. As each bite crumbled in my mouth, sesame seeds were scattered around. The cookie softened but retained a bit of crunch and the seeds teased my teeth into chasing them. A light swetness supported the pleasure without distracting the taste buds. One reginella was a dose of pure and simple pleasure, the memory of which lasted a long time.

I have vivid memories of other foods I tasted during that vacation, from rich gelato eaten in a soft, sweet bun, to fresh fish, from light mini cannoli to intense cheeses, but it's reginelle that feed my nostalgia. When I visited Palermo with my husband a few years ago, I carefully chose the bakery in which to purchase reginelle: I wanted the very best. A bite, stolen when hardly out of the store, sent me back to that summer of many years before, when I first discovered the pleasure these cookies provide.

brought back from Palermo

Until recently, I had never tried to bake them at home, afraid, I suspect, of taking out of the oven something so different from the original that the disappointment would be crushing. Reading again The Shape of Water by Andrea Camilleri (1994), the first of the novels that have as protagonitst police inspector Salvo Montalbano, brought me back to my first visit to Sicily and back to the yearning for reginelle, so this time I didn't skirt their calling and set about to make them. First, a note on vocabulary. In Sicilian dialect, sesame seeds are called cimino or giuggiulena. Just let this word tingle your ears: giuggiulena. It comes from from Arabic جلجلا (juljulān, "sesame").

I made several batches, trying a slightly different combination of ingredients each time, in search of the elusive bite of recognition. As I expected, none were exactly the same, and some were further from the archetype than others. The recipe I settled on is good: it makes reginelle that are a pleasure to eat and that have already made a couple of converts to their cause.

Ingredients:

• 200 g all-purpose flour
• 50 g whole-wheat pastry flour or 50 g all-purpose flour
  
• 70 g ultrafine sugar
• a pinch of salt
• 2 g baking ammonia
  
• 40 g cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  
• 20 g cold strutto (rendered pork fat) or 20 g cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  
• 1 large egg (possibly from pastured poultry), lightly beaten to mix white and yolk
  
• 1-2 tablespoons milk
• flavoring of choice: a pinch (1/16 teaspoon) saffron powder + grated zest of 1/4 Meyer lemon; or vanilla sugar + 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract (see Notes)
• plenty of sesame seeds (I used unhulled ones)
  

Notes:

1. The whole-wheat pastry flour is my way of making cookies a bit more nutricious.
2. I had my homemade strutto and pretty much finished it due to all the batches of reginelle I baked. It makes the cookies friabili (crumbly), but it also has a bit of a flavor and that is why I mixed it with butter. You can use all butter.
3. Based upon my reading, baking ammonia is the leavening agent traditionally used in reginelle. I have some I bought in Italy, where it is easy to find it in grocery stores. As you can read on this page, baking ammonia has advantages over baking powder when used in baked goods like cookies.
4. The recipes I read used various flavorings, from saffron powder to lemon zest to vanilla. In my first batch I used a small amount of saffron powder (1/16 teaspoon) I had and liked the result, but then I could not find more in the store and using saffron threads did not give me the same result. I then used a combination vanilla and lemon zest and was not happy, so I removed the lemon zest and used my vanilla sugar plus a bit of vanilla extract.

• If using saffron powder, dissolve it in a tablespoon of warm milk.
• Put flours, sugar (vanilla sugar, if using), salt, and baking ammonia in the food processor and pulse a few times to mix.
• Add butter and strutto, and pulse a few times, until the mixture has the consistency of coarse meal.
• Empty food processor's bowl onto your work surface.
• Make a well in the center of the mounded flour and butter mixture and pour the beaten eggs into it.
• Add the vanilla extract or lemon zest (whichever using) to the well.
• Add 1 tablespoon of milk or the milk and saffron powder mix (if using).
• Use a fork to incorporate the liquid into the solid ingredients, and then use your fingertips.
• Knead lightly just until the dough comes together into a ball. Add a bit more milk, if necessary.
• Shape the dough into a flat ellipse and wrap in plastic wrap. Place the dough in the refrigerator and chill while you get ready for the next phase. 

shaping the dough

Take a kitchen towel, spread it on your working surface and pour some water over it, so about half of it gets wet, but there is no pool of water. Take a round cake pan and pour sesame seeds in it so you have a nice layer. Preheat the oven to 400 F (or 350 F, see below). Line a baking sheet with a silicone baking mat.

Halve the dough and keep one half in the fridge. The following is how I decided to shape the reginelle and to roll them in the sesame seeds. Place dough on your working surface and pushing on its surface with the rolling pin, flatten it slightly (about 1/2 inch / 1.25 cm thick). With the bench scraper, cut strips (3/4 inch / 2 cm wide) and then cut each strip into pieces (1.5 inch / 4 cm long).

prepping the surface

Place a piece of dough on the towel and lightly roll it with the palm of your hand so its surface becomes slightly damp, then deposit it on the sesame seeds. Shake the pan so the dough rolls around and covers itself with seeds. Gently pick up the seeded piece of dough and place it on the lined baking sheet. Leave at least an inch (2.5 cm) of space all around each reginella. When you become comfortable with the process, you can work with a few pieces of dough at a time. And of course, you can come up with your own version of how to do all this.

I have read two schools of thought in terms of baking: one starts at high temperature (400 F) and then drops to lower 10 minutes after the start and one uses the same temperature (350 F) throughout. I think I prefer the result of the first version, while my husband prefers the result of the second: you can be  your own judge. Either way, I follow the advice of leaving the oven door slightly ajar (1/8 inch / 3 mm) to let the ammonia escape but without letting too much heat dissipate.

• If starting at 400 F, 10 minutes after the start, lower temperature to 320 F
• If starting at 350 F, keep the same temperature throughout

Either way, check the reginelle after 20 minutes from the beginning and estimate the amount of time still needed. The reginelle are ready when the surface is golden. Check the bottom as well: it should be brown but not dark brown. Take the baking sheet out of the oven and move the reginelle to a rack to cool. While the first batch is baking, prepare the second batch as above.

Store reginelle in an airtight container and enjoy. You probably won't think about Sicily when you bite on one, but you should still have a pleasant, crunchy experience.

Final note: reginelle shed sesame seeds throughout their life cycle. I have been collecting them and used them for a second time: the second baking did not affect their flavor, in part, I think, because I used unhulled seeds. I will not use them a third time for reginelle, but I have already used them as toasted sesame seeds on salads.

rolling in the sesame seeds

I have not visited Porto Empedocle Vigata, where the novels are set, but years ago, I spent a month working at the Club Med Kamarina and have been to Ragusa, Vittoria and other places in the area, so I have a sense of the landscape Camilleri describes in his Montalbano novels.

It was interesting to read again the first one of the series. We meet Montalbano and see his charming human touch at work. For example, he lies about his identity to the mother of a young man he wants to question to avoid alarming her. He understands immediately that Ingegner Luparello's wife is a smart woman and the two of them develop a mutual esteem. He may be a bit rough, but his first instinct is to try and connect to the person he is dealing with. 

The most memorable part of the novel is probably the improbable friendship that blossoms between Montalbano and Ingrid, a beautiful Swedish woman accidentally married to an absent Sicilian. The story moves forward to reach the solution. We never doubt that Montalbano will figure out what happened. But the process of uncovering the truth includes also making sure that innocent Ingrid is not dragged into the mud, that the Luparello widow's wish is respected, that Saro gets some money to cure his little boy, in sum, that the chaos of the world in general and of that corner of Sicily in particular, for at least a brief time, is organized in a sort of just order that allows Montalbano a few hours of quiet sleep or a long swim in the sea in front of his house in Marinella.

a cookie from the heart

In an interview (in Italian), Camilleri says (my translation of the transcription):

I wrote the first, then the second [The Terra-Cotta Dog], and said: the end. I wrote the second to better define the character, but then what happened happened. 

"What happened" was that The Terra-Cotta Dog was a huge success. Nineteen years after the publication of The Shape of Water, readers around the world still wait impatiently for the next Montalbano to come out. Long live Andrea Camilleri.

This is my contribution to the 18th edition of Novel Food, the literary/culinary event that Lisa of Champaign Taste and I started some time ago and that I continue to host.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

This is also my contribution to the current edition of Cook the Books, hosted by Rachel of The Crispy Cook. You can find the guidelines for participating in the event here, and here is the announcement.

This post contains the roundup of the event.

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

reginelle

or launch the reginelle audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

cookie, sesame-seeds, Italian recipe

Related articles

semi di sesamo / sesame seeds

Amargosa Hotel

signs and black chair

For some reason, the Amargosa Hotel sign (as already narrated in a previous post) was on the ground to the left of the main entrance.

Update (March 31, 2013): Yesterday, I was honored by a visit from the artist who is working on painting the signs. In a comment, she provides the following information on her work:

The reason that the hotel sign is sitting on the ground is because I painted it for them. It is a recreation of the original hotel sign that was on the front of the building when it was new in the 1920's. I recreated it on the sign in your photograph and one day it, along with the other signs you see sitting there with it, hopefully will be hung. It will go over the front entrance where the smaller, older sign is currently hung.

The view to the right

Tables and chairs are quite inviting, but the cold early January temperature made sitting outside a bit challenging. Still, I can imagine sitting at one of the tables with a nice tray holding a Viennese coffee melange, like the one I just saw on Merisi's Vienna for Beginners recent post.

Inside the hotel, the dining room was quiet. The silence and low light added to the atmosphere of mysteriousness of the place. There are murals in this and other rooms.

table for two

A favorite corner of the hotel. Still dreaming of Viennese coffee melange.

The second and fourth photo are my contribution to edition #66 of Black and White Wednesday - A Culinary Photography Event created by Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook, now organized by Cinzia of Cindystar, and hosted this week by Lynne of Cafe Lynnylu.

The photos were shot in color and then converted to sepia the first three (using Lightroom preset Sepia Tone) and to black and white the last one (using Lightroom preset B&W Look 5).

This post contains the gallery of images contributed to the event.

On this page, you can find out who is hosting the current and future editions of the event.

anno nuovo nei parchi / new year in the parks

[cliccare il link per andare alla versione in italiano]

Joshua Tree National Park

If the word "desert" (deserto) brings to your mind a desolate, waterless land covered with sand and devoid of vegetation, the deserts in Southern California will correct that notion. I chose to visit the deserts closest to us during this Holiday season, because I felt the need to be in a simple landscape for a while, to quiet down some internal turmoil and thoughts that seemed to always come in an avalanche, drowning my ability to analyze them and put them in some kind of order. We spent the days around New Year's Day (Capodanno) in some of the most amazing places on the face of the Earth. It was a great gift to ourselves.

We started with Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, went on to Joshua Tree National Park, then crossed the Mojave National Preserve to reach Death Valley National Park. I will write more about each place, as each deserves some carefully written thoughts. Here, I am sharing four images of intense emotion out of the hundreds I took. My passionate desire to capture some of the natural magic surrounding me mostly remained a wishful thinking (pio desiderio) as the majesty of the landscape eluded my limited skill as a photographer.

Anza-Borrego Desert State Park

On New Year's Day, we crossed the Mojave National Preserve and stopped at the visitor center in the restored Kelso Depot. While admiring the exhibit there, a feeling of gratefulness all but overwhelmed me: this 1.6 million acre park belongs to us, to the public. This land is our land.

I then thought about making a proposal for the New Year for briciole's readers. It is not meant to be a resolution, which feels like a burden we place on the new year before it is old enough to stand on its feet.

I was ready to write a post about my proposal, when I read a thoughtful post written by dear Patricia Volonakis Davis, titled A Better You Equals A Better World. I invite you to read the whole post, though I will be focusing on a portion of it.

As soon as I read the first point Patricia makes, I knew I had found the right name for my proposal. This is what she writes:

Instead of making resolutions, let this year be a year of "gratitutions." Gratitutions are statements of gratitude made along with any criticisms you have of yourself or changes you wish to make.

I like the word "gratitution," because it invites us to pause, think, give thanks and then act mindfully.

Mojave National Preserve

So, here is my proposal, rephrased in light of the new perspective as a gratitution. Let us be grateful for parks, for the land set aside at county, state and national level for conservation and for the public to enjoy. This land is beautiful, sometimes to the point of leaving us grasping for words.

Then, let us honor our parks by visiting them. If you've always wanted to visit a specific park (parco), near or far, let 2013 be the year you finally go. This does not require special trips: chances are, there is a county park where you live. Let that be the object of your attention. 

Death Valley National Park

Each park is a treasure (tesoro) and has treasures to give. We may think we are doing something for the parks by visiting them, but I can assure you, the parks do a lot more for us.

I am grateful for the visionary people who worked and work hard to ensure the legacy of our parks (in the case of Joshua Tree, it was a woman, Miverva Hamilton Hoyt). I am grateful for all the people who work to ensure that our visit to each park is informed, enjoyable and safe. I will continue to do all I can to support our county, state and national parks (including writing about them).

Click on the button to hear me pronounce the Italian words mentioned in the post:

anno nuovo nei parchi

or launch the anno nuovo nei parchi audio file [mp3].

[Depending on your set-up, the audio file will be played within the browser or by your mp3 player application. Please, contact me if you encounter any problems.]

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anno nuovo nei parchi

Joshua Tree National Park

Se la parola "deserto" vi fa pensare ad una landa desolata, priva di acqua e vegetazione e coperta di sabbia, i deserti della California meridionale correggeranno tale idea. Ho scelto di visitare deserti durante le vacanze di Natale perché sentivo il bisogno di trovarmi per un po' in un paesaggio semplice. Sono dei luoghi incredibilmente affascinanti.

Abbiamo cominciato il viaggio con Anza-Borrego State Park, poi siamo andati al Joshua Tree National Park, abbiamo attraversato Mojave National Preserve e abbiamo concluso il giro a Death Valley National Park. Ho intenzione di scrivere qualcosa di più su ciascuno di questi luoghi. In questo post condivido quattro foto tra le molte che ho scattato. Il mio desiderio di catturare in qualche modo la magia dei paesaggi e rimasto più che altro un pio desiderio dati i miei limiti come fotografa.

Anza-Borrego Desert State Park

Il giorno di Capodanno abbiamo attraversato Mojave National Preserve e ci siamo fermati al centro informazioni nella stazione restaurata di Kelso. Mentre ammiravo la mostra didattica sono stata sopraffatta da un profondo senso di gratitudine: questo parco di oltre 6200 km² appartiene a tutti noi.

Allora ho pensato di fare una proposta per il Nuovo Anno, un invito ai lettori di briciole. Ero pronta a scrivere la mia proposta, quando ho letto un post bellissimo scritto dalla cara Patricia Volonakis Davis, intitolato A Better You Equals A Better World. Vi invito a leggere il post per intero (in inglese): io mi riferirò ad una parte di esso.

Come ho letto il primo punto che Patricia elenca, ho capito di aver trovato il nome giusto per la mia proposta. Ecco che cosa scrive:

Instead of making resolutions, let this year be a year of "gratitutions." Gratitutions are statements of gratitude made along with any criticisms you have of yourself or changes you wish to make.

Invece di fare buoni propositi, facciamo buone gratitudini. Buone gratitudini sono affermazioni di gratitudine unite ad autocritica e a progetti di cambiamento che vogliamo realizzare. (traduzione mia)

Patricia ci invita a fermarci, pensare un attimo, essere grati e poi agire con attenzione.

Mojave National Preserve

La mia proposta, riscritta in termini di buona gratitudine, è questa. La gratitudine è per i parchi, per i territori messi da parte a livello regionale o nazionale per la conservazione e per l'uso del pubblico. Queste aree sono bellissime, a volte talmente tanto da lasciarci senza parole.

La parte attiva della buona gratitudine è quella di rendere omaggio ai nostri parchi visitandoli. Se avete da tempo in mente di visitare un certo parco, vicino o lontano, che il 2013 sia l'anno in cui lo fate. Non c'è bisogno di fare viaggi: è possibile che ci sia un parco vicino a dove abitate e potete sceglierlo come oggetto della vostra attenzione.

Death Valley National Park

Ogni parco è una ricchezza e ha ricchezze da elargire. Quando visitiamo un parco pensiamo di fare qualcosa per esso, ma in realtà è il parco a fare molto di più per noi.

Sono grata a coloro che si sono dati e si danno da fare per stabilire parchi e a tutti coloro che lavorano per fare in modo che la nostra visita sia istruttiva e gradevole.

♥ i parchi

Death Valley Junction

On our way from Twenty-nine Palms (Joshua Tree) to Furnace Creek (Death Valley), we arrived at Death Valley Junction (CA), and this is what we saw. An opera house in the middle of a sparsely populated area is an interesting sight and the theater has indeed an interesting story, as you can read on its website.

We could not stop due to the desire to reach our destination not too long after dark, so we made a point of getting an early start on our way back to take a closer look at the Cafe.

Before going into the Amargosa Cafe, we stepped into the Amargosa Hotel. I am not sure why the beautiful signs were on the ground, but I took advantage of the fact.

Update (March 31, 2013): Yesterday, I was honored by a visit from the artist who is working on painting the signs. In a comment, she provided the following information on her work:

The reason that the hotel sign is sitting on the ground is because I painted it for them. It is a recreation of the original hotel sign that was on the front of the building when it was new in the 1920's. I recreated it on the sign in your photograph and one day it, along with the other signs you see sitting there with it, hopefully will be hung. It will go over the front entrance where the smaller, older sign is currently hung.

I have some images of the hotel reception and dining area, but will save them for another post.

Our visit to the Cafe was brief: while I was taking this photo, my husband learned that a water pipe had frozen and burst during the night, so the Cafe could not serve food.

I interpreted this as a message: we must go back, see a performance at the Opera House, stay at the Hotel and have breakfast at the Cafe.

The Cafe photos are my contribution to edition #65 of Black and White Wednesday - A Culinary Photography Event created by Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook, now organized by Cinzia of Cindystar, and hosted this week by Lail of With a Spin.

The photos were shot in color and then converted to sepia (using Lightroom preset Sepia Tone).

This post contains the gallery of images submitted to the event.

On this page, you can find out who is hosting the current and future editions of the event.

oasi / oasis

Washingtonia filifera frond

There are 2,500 species of palms worldwide, with 11 native to North America. The largest of these, and the only palm tree native to western North America, is the California Fan Palm. It is also known as the Desert Palm and the California Washingtonia. (source)

The leaf fronds are up to 6 feet (1.8 m) long, made up of a petiole up to 2 metres (6.6 ft) long, bearing a fan of leaflets 1.5–2 metres (4.9–6.6 ft) long. They have long thread-like white fibers between the segments. When the fronds die they remain attached and drop down to cloak the trunk in a wide skirt. The shelter that the skirt creates provides a microhabitat for many small birds and invertebrates. (source)

Palm Canyon, Anza-Borrego Desert

Borrego Palm Canyon is the third-largest palm oasis in California... (source)

Oasis:

• a fertile spot in a desert where water is found
• a pleasant or peaceful area or period in the midst of a difficult, troubled, or hectic place or situation

Last year, our winter break oasis was in lush Big Island of Hawai'i. This year, it is in the deserts of Southern California. In Anza-Borrego Desert State Park, for the first time, we visited an actual oasis.

small pools of gold

On our way back along the Palm Canyon Trail, in the magic light of the late afternoon sun, the water turned shining gold.

filifera means "thread-bearing"

I am officially in love with the desert and will share more photos soon. In the meantime, I would like to wish you all the best in the New Year:

Buon Anno!

 

"a me non piace il cioccolato" / "I don't like chocolate"

I can't believe you're saying that, Pinocchio!

I just got back from a visit to my hometown of Perugia. One afternoon, as I was looking at Pinocchio in the window of Chocostore, I noticed Palazzo dei Priori reflected on the glass. The beautiful Gothic portal provides access to the Sala dei Notari. The two bronze statues represent the lion and the griffin, symbols of the city. Interestingly enough, the homepage of Eurochocolate, the chocolate festival held every year in Perugia in October, shows the same portal, though from a different perspective.

Differently from Pinocchio, I ♥ chocolate.

This week, I have the honor of hosting Black and White Wednesday - A Culinary Photography Event. created by Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook and now organized by Cinzia of Cindystar. Send your contribution at simosite AT mac DOT com, namely

• your name
• your blog's name
• the image(s) (max 500 px wide, either orientation)

You have until Tuesday, October 23 at 6 pm Pacific time to do so. If you are unfamiliar with the event or need a reminder of the rules, you will find the details in this post (and in Italian here). Feel free to use the logo below (it can also be found here). If you have a photo, but no blog, send it to me and I will include it in the roundup, which will be published on Wednesday, October 24.

Since messages can get lost, please, contact me again if you don't get an answer to your email or a comment on your blog within a couple of days of emailing me.

This is my contribution to edition #55 of Black and White Wednesday - A Culinary Photography Event created by Susan of The Well-Seasoned Cook, now organized by Cinzia of Cindystar, and hosted this week by Simona of briciole.

The photo was shot in color and then converted to black and white.

On this page, you can find out who is hosting the current and future editions of the event.