imbibing

Last fall I had the chance to visit Croatia for two weeks. I was on assignment for a few publications and in search of the white Italian truffle. (A note to other travelers: do not attempt to call this delicacy "Italian" while in Croatia. You will offend many. Trust me.)

I did find truffle after truffle, not in the dirt but in pastas, cream sauces, cheeses, soups and one insanely memorable semifreddo. During the course of my truffle research, a few people have said that truffles can get to you. Somehow, they start to alter your perception of reality. You begin to smell them when they're not there.

Now I understand. I smelled truffles at the airport as I was leaving the country. I smelled them at home while walking down the street, buying groceries, ordering coffee, picking up the mail. The truffles got to me. I will never be the same.

But I digress. The trip was fantastic, especially because I had the chance to travel with photographer Leah Nash for the first time. The first piece from our adventure has just hit the newsstands. Check out Imbibe's May/June issue to see all of Leah's photos, or find the text version here.

unembedded

The other day I was lunching at the Dog House (kosher beef Chicago style/Coke in a can) with my friend Brian, when a swarm of middle schoolers holding notebooks descended on the place. Their teacher told us that she'd seen Amy Goodman speak the night before and was inspired to create the next wave of unembedded journalists. And what better way to do that than head to the Dog House for a hot news story?

Well, these kids were in luck, because they'd just come across two experienced journalists enjoying the absolute freedom of their jobs by sitting outside in freezing weather in order to eat hot dogs mere feet from where they were warmed. We agreed to be interviewed about our jobs.

We told them the hard truth: we would ask tough questions if we had to and bust down doors to get the facts. I tried to make the profession sound noble, but the dab of mustard on my face may have diminished my credibility. No matter, I'm happy to know I helped shape the next generation of unembedded journalists, who, if they're smart, will choose the glamorous lifestyle of the freelance writer.

Don't hold the onions, kids. Don't hold the onions.

perfect pairings

In the most recent issue of Beer Northwest magazine, I write about one of my favorite pairings: running and beer. Read about my first encounter with the drinking club with a running problem, one professor's proof that beer hydrates more effectively than water, and the clever calculations that disprove the notion of the beer gut.

The piece isn't online, but it's worth checking out this new Portland-based publication when you get a chance.

sunday soundtrack

Visiting David Byrne's streaming radio feed is like showing up at the airport and getting on the next available flight to wherever. Today I've been dropped in Turkey, a country I had the chance to visit with my dad and two little brothers way back when.

Byrne's collection would have made a good soundtrack for our trip, although most of these tracks lack the disco sound that makes me so fond of Bollywood/Bhangra mixes. But right now I'm feeling satisfied by this dreamy Turkish pop. Of course the music makes me think of food...juicy lamb kebabs, breakfasts of feta slices and olives, and sweet, thick coffee.

I wish I could post a good photo from our trip. Alas, we traveled in the pre-digital-camera era, so I have no idea where my stack of prints went. Just picture a family of skinny white Americans carrying backpacks filled with iodine pills and Nalgene bottles, grinning in front of mosques, ferries and plates of whole fried fish with cloudy eyes.

mental games

I decided to challenge my mind's capacity to handle pain by running in yesterday's Shamrock Run sans iPod. While it may sound minor, doing the race without music was a big change for me. The last time I ran without music in my ears was last summer, during a 10-mile run with my friend Sophie, who, as I discovered that day, likes to tell long interesting stories as a distraction, a welcome deviation from my static playlist.

But yesterday I ran solo, and as I started up the almost immediate set of hill climbs, I was surprised to hear how the quality of my breathing changed depending on the terrain. At one point, as the pack plodded up a hill in total silence, I looked around and realized just how many people were wearing headphones. I felt like I was surrounded by zombies, lucky zombies who were focused on Justin Timberlake lyrics instead of any searing pains in their left sides.

Alas, my friendless, music-free self crossed the finish line in good time. But I'm already looking forward to my next run (okay, not for a few days at least), when without a doubt, I'll be moving my body to the beat.

redefining vacation

I realize that I've become one of those people who never takes a
vacation, and I like to complain about the fact. But I love my job
because no matter where I go, I'm looking for stories. Put me on a
desert island and I'll start contemplating various ways to pitch
stories about sand.

I'm not the only one with this problem, although my inability to unplug comes in a unique form. Take for example Mark Bittman's story in The New York Times about trying to take a "virtual break." I can just imagine Bittman going through his tech-free week, taking notes (by hand?) and crafting the lead to the story in his head over and over again. So while he did unplug in terms of gadgets, he was still able to stay mentally connected to his work. Let's just say I can relate.

So I was curious...does anyone really unplug anymore? The answer is yes, but the process can be uncomfortable. Check out what I discovered about real unplugging in the March/April issue of Women's Adventure magazine (the piece itself isn't online, so you'll have to find a real paper copy to get the details).

in defense of nitrates

Last fall I had the opportunity to meet Armandino Batali at an event here in Portland. He was teaching a class on how to make cooked salami at home and offering tastes of his delicious creations (go out of your way to get your hands on Salumi's mole salami).

I loved listening to Armandino talk about how in Italy, no one would dream of steralizing things like well-worn butcher blocks with bleach, which I was I was surprised when he started discussing the importance of nitrates. If you go to any upscale market these days, you're bound to see some "nitrate free" meats, which has led me, and many consumers, to believe that nitrates should be avoided.

But Armandino thinks consumers have been mislead. Read about his perspective on nitrates and meat curing in this piece I wrote for Culinate.