My siblings were really great athletes so, growing up, a lot of the family’s time and resources were spent on sports. Despite plenty of, yet terrible efforts, I was not an athlete. In fact, I wasn’t really “great” at much. There is a joke in our family that my parents didn’t really know what to do with me so they just sent me abroad every few summers.
The really funny part of the joke is that though I was the kid who got sent to the other side of the planet at thirteen, I am the one that ended up Midwest Obsessed. (What can I say? I like driving, Chipotle, and a Super Target. All three things I missed— and still miss— immensely when abroad.)
Jokes aside, the time abroad was important to me. There was a perspective gained on the size of the planet and its population and me in it that was impactful. As a kid with family in the DC area, seeing just how young America is compared to many places in Europe blew my mind— and still does. It was good for me to spend time with art and architecture, to participate in everyday moments on streets and in towns, and to be alone and away from the trappings of Dublin, Ohio, AIM, and YM magazine. And, as with any travel to another country, food made a significant impact.
I am lucky because I have so many abroad food memories. Because I was a thirteen year old parentless in Australia, I remember thrilling at the freedom to get something at the gas station when our tour of young teenagers needed to stop. As a family, we never got to get a snack from the gas station— let along a full sized candy bar. I remember delighting in the freedom to choose whatever I wanted and fell in love with this chocolate covered peppermint crisp bar that only exists down under. There, I lived with a family and went to school for a while. My host mother asked if I had any requests for dinner and all I wanted was traditional Aussie meat pie, a delicious dish that as I understood it was as ubiquitous as America’s hotdog. They are even served in individual sizes at sporting events. She obliged, but I do remember feeling a little eye rolling (honestly something i would probably do too if an Australian kid came to my house and asked for a hot dog…) She also didn’t make it herself. I accompanied her and her children to the store to pick it up one afternoon after school. Not gonna lie, it was fab. I would eat one now.
At sixteen, it was off to Spain with my Spanish class. It was a trip I probably shouldn’t have even been permitted to attend, based on my bombed Chemistry final. But… my mom overlooked it, likely knowing that getting me out of my element was better for me than Periodic Elements. Spain was special because it was my first trip to Europe and it is where I finally had that moment of “awe” realizing just how old things were there compared to “old” objects and historical buildings in American history.
I also had a few moments on that trip that felt like growing up in real time. A painting of a matador I bought my parents hangs in their foyer still today. Every time I look at it I am back on the streets of Barcelona where I picked it up. It was our last night there and I wasn’t satisfied with the few souvenirs I had purchased for them. There was an art fair on an avenue nearby and, in the small window between tours and getting ready for our final dinner, I ran out of the hotel with the first boy I would love to check it out. There was something there about being on our own, on the busy street as the day slipped into evening, exploring, and shopping half a planet from all that was “normal” to us at 16. It felt like not just a glimpse of adulthood, but actually having one foot in it.
On that trip, there are so many good memories, but the food memories are extra… special?
Early on we visited Madrid and our tour guide offered to arrange a paella lunch for anyone interested. It wasn’t part of the school provided meals and we had to pay for it out of pocket. Being a “try it all” kind of gal and flush with cash from the first couple weeks of the summer at the pool, I believed it to be worth my hard earned life guard dollars. I went with a small group of us to a dark restaurant and there, without the watchful eyes of our Spanish teachers, we were served not just delicious paella, but also pitchers of Sangria. Turns out, teenage me liked both! A lot. Combine the meal and the wine with some jet lag, and I was nearly asleep at our next stop of the day, the Prado Museum.
A quick Funny Note here: I kept journals and notes when I traveled and the note about this meal is just bullet points and is so funny to me. “Shrimp with eyes!”
We also had an eventful dinner at a hotel in the Basque region near San Sebastian that came complete with heaping trays of salad served family style at long tables. After the meal, the staff broke down the tables and all the guests danced. The night was wild fun and bit of a blur, but the next morning the dust settled and it was determined that well over half of our group had food poisoning likely due to lettuce in those big salads. (Not all food memories are great ones…!)
Three years later, I was nineteen and off to Switzerland where I did a lot of the cooking. I was there for the summer for a hospitality program taking courses for culinary skills, wine, ethics, and franchising. This was an interesting time because:
- I was at an age (and/or maturity) where I had a stronger desire to spend my cash on wine than food (leading me to resort to a box of Cheese It’s I smuggled in my suitcase for a meal often).
- Social media was coming on strong and I could see what my peers were up to. Many were at home and many others studying in Spain, Paris, London, and Italy. All of these places were sunny and warm. My friends were tan and donning cute sun dresses whether at a country concert in Ohio or on Las Ramblas, the road on which I had had my magical moment in Barcelona just three years earlier. In Switzerland, the weather was gloomy and I was in often in my dorm, wearing the same grey sweatshirt and too big chef pants everyday, and subsisting nearly exclusively off of cheese in many different forms.
I kind of make the food and life in Switzerland sound a little underwhelming. Maybe I was too young or just did it wrong. Maybe the “blue” feeling I had for much of 2007 was actually a little more like actual depression and we just didn’t have the tools or words or wherewithal to call it that then.
Or maybe it’s because I went to Italy for a weekend to meet up with my friend from high school, Nicki, and poor Switzerland just couldn’t even hold a candle to what Florence had to offer. That night, was Nicki’s last in the city so she had “dining dollars” from her university’s program that she had to use up. The university had restaurant partners across the city and Nicki still had a ton of cash to use. We dined al fresco at a little trattoria and splashed out on a meal of pastas and pizza, fresh salads, wine and even dessert. At the end, it was all less than 10 euros when the check finally came. The meal lasted hours as we laughed and caught up. The food was fresh and bright and flavorful and started my love affair with Florence. Maybe it was being with an old friend or maybe it was just Italy, but I finally felt like myself.
It’s a little funny that the best meal of my *culinary* Switzerland study abroad wasn’t even in Switzerland.
But, it’s makes sense. I have now been to Italy three other times since that weekend with Nicki and all of them have been magical, but also just felt so right. I know I am an Irish and English girl, but I think there has got to someone deep in my lineage that linked up with an Italian. When there with my family the summer I turned 21, we even joked that I look the part!
Jokes aside, I get that Italy— especially Italian food— is easy to like. It’s super fresh pasta and thin pizza. The produce is local and seasonal making it the best it can be.
On that trip to celebrate my parents 25th anniversary we had an amazing meal in the mountains above the Amalfi Coast complete with a Limoncello toast for us all at the end that goes down in the Sullivan Family Top Ten Meals of All Time.
To celebrate our “last hurrah” before babies in 2015, Adam and I planned a trip. I documented much of it on here. Still to this day, Adam and I will still talk your ear off about the butcher shop in Tuscany where we had beef every way we could have it. It was a rockus place with rock music blasting out and signed photos of Antonio Bourdain visiting on the walls. We will tell you how the fried calamari in Monterosso was seafood perfection and that we ate so many anchovies in Cinque Terre that my wedding rings actually were a little snug for a couple days because my fingers swelled from the saltiness. If you ask, you will hear us go on and on about green olives and prosecco are, in fact, the perfect snack on a hot day in Florence.
But, if you asked for our favorite meal of the trip on a week like this, you would be in luck because there is a good chance that we recreate it for you in less time than it takes to tell the story.
In the planning for the trip, I found Eating Italy Food Tours on Pinterest. The company offers a couple different tours as well as cooking classes. The Twilight Tour peaked my interest because it sounded like a neat way to do dinner. After a quick look on Trip Adviser, only to find overwhelmingly positive reviews, I knew we had to do it. Read more about the tour and our time in Rome here.
The tour took us to an idyllic part of Rome called Trastevere, which our guide said that many guests compare to Greenwich Village in New York City. It reminded me Broad Ripple or Mass Ave in Indianapolis thanks to it’s laid-back vibe, pretty ivy covered walls, cute cobblestone streets and amount of restaurants and nightlife.
We visited ten different places on the tour and it was similar to a progressive dinner where we had just a bite of something every stop. And, it wasn’t just restaurants that we visited, but also bakeries, butcher shops, street food trucks, and a gelateria.
The tour started strong at what would be our favorite of the whole night, Da Enzo Al 29. The vibes of the restaurant were so sweet as it looked like it was straight out of an Italian movie. (We tried to eat there for a true meal later in the trip, but it was booked.) It was also home to the sweetest, local cantaloupe which was served with prosciutto and burrata cheese. My notes for the trip’s journal remind me that the cantaloupe was from the south of Rome and considered to be very special.
However, at first glance I thought it sounded strange. And, to be totally honest, I am not much of cantaloupe person. I actually am not much of a fruit person. But, I am a “try it all” kind of girl and I know that when in season, and with the added note that it was “very special,” fruit— even the fruits I don’t love— can be super.
And that is exactly what this was. The sweet, salty, and creamy tastes and textures of each simple, fresh ingredient complimented each other so well. Adam and I both looked at each other wide eyed in delight as we took our first bite. The salad was served with crisp Prosecco that bubbled and danced on our tongues in between sweet bites of more melon.
We now recreate this meal every summer when melons are in season in Indiana, throwing in a touch of arugula from the garden to make it a salad and call it a whole meal. We used to be able to get great burrata from Market Wagon, an online farmers market in Indiana. But, now it’s a little harder to find. It can be at grocery stores, but if not fresh mozzarella is a perfect substitute. We look forward to this dish every August to remind of us that great trip, our love for Italy, and what the Italian’s philosophy is when it comes to food– that so much is in line with our own: Use what is local and in season. Sprinkle in some nostalgia and always savor meals with loved ones.
This dish also brings to life one of my favorite kitchen/life mottos: In August, don’t cook. Assemble.
Oh. And, don’t forget the Prosecco!
Melon and Prosciutto
1 cantaloupe melon, diced in 1 inch chunks or slice long
4-5 ounces prosciutto
1 8 ounce ball burrata
Olive Oil
Salt and Pepper
Optional: Arugula, basil, balsamic, honey
There are many ways to arrange and add flavor to this salad. I often make a light layer of arugula, place small chunks of melon on top, tear prosciutto into smaller pieces and place around melon. Top with Burrata and drizzle with good olive oil and some salt and pepper. Pop the burrata so that it can ooze out and enjoy!
Such fun memories. Always be willing to try something new.