First Day of School!

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In an effort to uphold my reputation as a crazy cyclist, the first thing I did upon arriving in Bra was to beeline to a second-hand bike shop and pick up a used bike. I am now the proud owner of an old school Atala, decked out with fenders, a bell and a basket. Fast she is not, but for 60 quid I could probably do worse.

The University of Gastronomic Sciences campus is about 6 km away from Bra, which is about the length of my old commute to the Fed. However, biking to class is considerably more difficult/hair-raising than going to the Fed because the route involves riding down a two-lane highway with a very, very steep, winding hill. Unless you are comfortable with biking downhill with lorries whizzing past you on a road with no shoulder, I don’t really recommend biking. As I flew down the hill this morning, I was traveling so quickly that my eyes were watering. To be fair, vehicles are courteous and do try to move to give you enough space, but there’s really not much room for error. Going back is even more hilarious because you now have to tackle going up the hill. Despite my best efforts, the bike slowly ground to a halt about halfway up the hill and I settled with walking the rest of the way up the hill. Perhaps I should have bought a bike with more than one speed.

Potential deathtrap? I thought about wearing a helmet but Valeria, my Italian flatmate, insists that no one aside from kids wear helmets in Italy. Also, it would ruin my hair.

The UNISG campus in Pollenzo is housed in the refurbished Agenzia di Pollenzo, built in 1833 for Carlo Alberto di Savoia, king of Piedmont-Sardinia at the time. As such, it looks like a castle, with turrets and an inner courtyard, and a church on the premises. About 4 billion euros were spent in restoring the grounds and modernizing the facilities for university usage, with funds contributed from Slow Food and local Italian governments. Today, the university serves 300+ students, and the grounds include a Michelin-starred restaurant (Guido), an upscale hotel, and Italy’s only wine bank, which carries and preserves wine from every producer in the nation.
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First Pizza

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For an informal pre-start of class get-together, the UNISG May 2010 cohort gathered for beers/aperitivo at the bar on the premises of the Slow Food headquarters. In the courtyard, there is a small restaurant named Baladin, with a small bar outdoors that serves wine and a couple beers on tap. On this particular night, the Isaac and Nora beers were available, the former being similar to a Belgian white beer and the latter an “Egyptian” style lager.

Of the 25 people in the class, I met about 17 or 18 of them tonight, and presumably the rest will be present at class tomorrow morning. There are five men, 5-6 Americans, two Italians, a Thai, a Mexican, an Ecuadorean, and some Aussies. As you can imagine, everyone is fairly cosmopolitan and speaks many tongues, but the winner for linguistic diversity might be Luca, an Italian who speaks English with a perfect British accent who studied Chinese in Beijing for several years.

Post beers, we trekked around the corner to Aqua Pazza Pizzeria, which was described by Luca as being a reasonably priced, cheap pizza place. Much to my surprise, the pizzeria was decked out with nice wine racks, track lighting and white tablecloths–Papa John’s this was not. On the other hand, the menu was filled with about 20 types of pizza, all between €5-8. That is definitely cheaper than the American equivalent. Also, I was amused to see some creative naming in the Pizze Baby section.

After scanning the menu carefully, I decided to go with the Basilica, topped with grape tomatoes, mozzarella and basil. The crust was thin but not cracker-like, with enough chew and durability to support the toppings. It was also a pretty hefty serving for one person, unlike some other Neapolitan pizzas I have had, where you walk away hankering for another half a pizza.

Time to go to bed, so I can bike to class bright and early in the morning.

L’Appartamento

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Home is where the heart is, so your real home’s in your chest! -Captain Hammer

Unlike Cornell, which barrages you with information every other day about freshman orientation, the University of Gastronomic Sciences is a bit more laidback. To get information, you really have to be proactive and seek it out, which is fine because the administration staff is very responsive. In an email I exchanged before arriving in Italy, I was told that the flat would come furnished with desks, beds, blankets, a TV and a kitchen with pots and pans. Oh boy, a cable TV? I don’t even have one of those at home!

Anyway, the flat has definitely exceeded my expectations, considering the bare bones aesthetics of my Cornell dorm room. Here, I have two other flatmates, and we each have our own rooms, which are considerably larger than I expected. Actually, I wouldn’t have minded if the rooms were smaller to give more space in the kitchen, but that is the way the cookie crumbles.
My room opens out onto a balcony, which is conveniently equipped with wires for hang drying clothing, since we don’t have access to a dryer.

Outside my balcony, you can see a garden below, where the neighbor putters about in the morning with a watering can.
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Odyssey to Italy: Results

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My first Italian sunset, right before I realized I was hilariously lost.

It was going perfectly, until it wasn’t. I managed to navigate through London, catch my connecting flight in another airport, and got through Turin before making a mistake. At the Turin Porta Nuova train station, I asked for a ticket to Bra, and it was printed with the destination as “Bra.” Thus, I assumed that the train led directly to Bra, especially since the clerk didn’t mention any sort of transfer. An hour too late, and after some fitful dozing on the train, I panicked when I realized that this line didn’t directly go to Bra, and I should have transferred trains at Carmagnola. Luckily, the first person I asked for help was ludicrously well-prepared and whipped out a complete book of train timetables, and helped me figure out a new itinerary to get “home.” With palpable relief, I stepped off the bus at 22.37, about two hours later than planned. My flatmates came to pick me up in a car, and were overjoyed that I hadn’t inadvertently ended up in France or something. All in all, I have taken 10 planes/trains/buses to trek from New York to Bra, Italy in the last 24 hours, while lugging about 3/4 of my weight in luggage, up and down stairs, through traffic, across bumpy cobblestones. Heathrow might be my new favorite airport now because they offer the free usage of luggage carts. This has been one of the most draining days of my life.


The flat is beautiful, and decorated with all kinds of neat murals and photography. I don’t know if this is handiwork leftover from previous students, or designed by the school, but either way it is most impressive, and definitely better decorated than any of my previous apartments. I’ll try to post more photos of the place tomorrow, but below is a shot of my bedroom. There is a balcony where I can hang clothes to dry and a nice full-length mirror. The kitchen has some china, pots and utensils included, but I’m still glad I brought my trusty 10″ Calphalon. The one thing the apartment is sorely lacking is an oven; we have a large toaster oven, but it’s going to be difficult to do serious baking in that.


After picking me up from the train station, we all gathered round the kitchen and broke open a beer. Many of you will not be surprised to hear I was told several times that I have impressive amounts of energy. Jet lag, schmetlag. Tomorrow, the plan is to get the bureaucratic paperwork out of the way (I have to apply for a permesso di soggiorno residency permit within my first 8 days in Italy) and maybe explore the town a bit. Classes start at 9 am sharp on Wed.

Leavin’ on a Jet Plane

travel

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xJWVHIWOoI&hl=en_US&fs=1&]

Plan for the next 24 hours:

9:35 pm flight from JFK to Heathrow

Bus fro Heathrow to Gatwick

Fly from Gatwick to Turin

Bus from Turin airport to train station

Train from Turin to Bra

Get picked up by new flatmate Valeria at the train station at ~20:30 on Monday 5/24.

I am currently lugging about 80% of my body mass in luggage. NOTHING CAN GO WRONG. See ya’ll six hours in the future.

Recipe: Matcha Green Tea Mochi Cupcakes with White Chocolate Ganache

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Matcha green tea mochi cupcakesA couple months ago, I embarked on a mission to clear out my freezer and cupboards before moving. I stopped buying pantry items, and only allowed myself purchases of produce, dairy products and occasionally starches, like rice or pasta. Within weeks, I had finished all the random cuts of meat in the freezer, and had baked through all my bread and all purpose flours. This Iron Chef-esque exercise also forced me to come up with new ways to use esoteric ingredients like harissa (a North African chili and red pepper paste), chickpea flour (for Indian pakoras) and pomegranate molasses (a byproduct of my one-time obsession with tagines). Some of my experiments were successful (horseradish-sharp cheddar bread was a win), and others were not as good (horseradish cream and pomegranate molasses sauce was pretty fail). But hey, I was the only one around to witness my mistakes, and I never botched a dish so badly that I was unwilling to eat it myself.

At any rate, my kitchen is currently looking quite bare. If I didn’t know any better, I would look at my cupboards and call myself food-insecure. I am out of staples like flour, milk, butter and salt. Yes, salt. Actually, you’d be surprised at what you can do without salt in the house. Though my first impulse was to panic and run out to buy salt, after a few moments, I realized I had plenty of other salting mechanisms, like soy sauce, oyster sauce, fish sauce, nuoc mam and salty cheeses. And so, I’ve been getting by on a low-salt (but not low-sodium) diet for the last week or so.

All this is simply background to explain the engineering process that went into the cupcakes pictured above. I wanted to make something for my economists as a parting gift, and this recipe for strawberry mochi cupcakes caught my eye. Some further digging turned up this recipe for matcha green tea mochi cake, which was supposed to be a bit chewier and less cake-like than the previous formulation.

Baking is one of the most precise of culinary arts (second only to candy-making), which is why I don’t do it often. Here, my improvisatory ways tend to backfire and all that is left is a crest-fallen soufflé. However, I was adamant in my obsession with not having leftover ingredients, so I studied the two recipes carefully and combined them. And hoped that my gamble would work.
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