I’d been hearing about Chandler Burr’s perfume dinners for quite a while. Chandler used the be the perfume critic at the New York Times (bet you didn’t know that job existed, did you?) and has written two books on perfume.
In other words, when it comes to perfume, he’s the man.
But getting back to these perfume dinners. I’d been invited to three of them in the past but had never been able to go. I really wanted to even though I had no idea at all what they would be like. But I figured that anything that combined two of my favorite things couldn’t be bad.
Also, there was the fact that I love Chandler’s writing, so there was that too.
Finally, last week, the stars aligned and I was able to attend A Scent Dinner.
I’ve been lucky enough to go on quite a few learning trips with Oldways. These are symposiums that take place in different locations in the Mediterranean where journalists, chefs, nutritionists, scientists and vendors get a chance to learn more about different aspects of traditional ways of growing, preparing and eating meals.
While each trip is very different, certain elements repeat themselves. Things like olive oil, and olives for instance are pretty much a given. And even if each trip itself is full of a widely varied list of local things to eat and drink, there is usually one item that keeps getting repeated at each meal on each trip,
One of the best parts about going to Pantelleria last week was learning all about capers. It was basically Capers 101. Or Capers for Dummies. Take your pick. Either way, it was capers 24/7.
Although I use capers all the time, and thought I knew pretty much how they grow, even I ended up learning a lot.
Which I’m very happy to share with you.
One of the sweetest things about my trip to Pantelleria last week was, well, very sweet. Even sweeter than I expected.
And I’m not talking about Passito. When I started to tell people I was headed to Pantelleria - a remote volcanic Italian island located between Sicily and Tunisia - almost every single person made the same three comments:
- Isn’t that Armani’s island?
- Bring me back some capers please.
- You’re going to be drinking a lot of passito.
To report back in:
- Yes, we saw Armani’s villa (from a distance)
- Yes, I brought you back some capers.
- And yes, we did drink a lot of passito.
If you follow me on any sort of social media platform then you already know that I went to Pantelleria last week. I was invited to this tiny volcanic island stuck between Sicily and Tunisia by the folks at Oldways. I’ve been on about a dozen learning trips with this organization over the last 15 years to places like Puglia, Chios, Lesbos, Barcelona and even China. It’s through Oldways that I’ve learned most of what I know today about the health properties of the Mediterranean diet. In fact, it was Oldways that developed the Mediterranean Diet Pyramid and their trips - which invite chefs, journalists, nutritionists, scientists and importers to learn and exchange ideas and research - has resulted in the fact that you most likely have a bottle (or five) of olive oil in your pantry today.
After spending this past week in Pantelleria my mind is filled with all things caper-related. Which sort of explains, I guess, why I’m writing one final post on Greece.
The food I ate in Pantelleria reminded me a lot of what we had eaten in Paros (here, here, and here). And this makes sense since both are islands floating in the Mediterranean and their cuisines make do with what’s on hand.
While Pantelleria is synonymous with capers (and more on that later on this week and next) I have to admit that I've always just taken Greek capers for granted. They are everywhere, literally. The plants are forgiving and grow in just about every wall crevice and most families pick and brine their own.
The past five times we’ve gone to Paros we’ve rented motor bikes to get around the Island. Two for the family, with Sophie driving one with Emma on the back, and me riding with Domenico. It’s a pretty cheap and easy way to get around, I admit. But not the most comfortable.
I’ve long since given up driving my own motorino in Rome, but will still hop on the back of Domenico’s if we’re not going that far. I mean really, it was ok when I was twenty something but these days it’s just not my preferred means of transportation.
So this year I made an executive decision and rented a jeep for our stay on the Island. After much grumbling about how ‘lame’ it was to travel around in a car with your family, everyone finally settled down. Not only did they realize it was more comfortable, but it also meant maybe we could drive farther - and faster - and so visit a lot of smaller villages we’d never been to.
One of our best discoveries was the little village of Alyki, on the south west coast of Paros. The small fishing village has a lot going for it. A sandy beach and a shady boardwalk that runs along the waterfront. Much smaller than Naoussa, there were only a few restaurants (all of which had hand painted signs of food by the way).
One of my favorite parts about traveling is (surprise surprise) eating. Not only do I love discovering new tastes and dishes, I adore the chance to learn new recipes that I can take back home with me.
Inevitably the best recipes are the simplest ones. The ones that make me slap my forehead and say “why didn’t I think of that!” (ok, I don’t really slap my forehead).
After all the summers we’ve been coming to Paros, we are pretty familiar with the local dishes. While we never tire of things like tzatiki and taramasalata, souvlake and grilled sardines and lamb, we are always on the look out for something new and different.
We just came back from a dreamy ten days in Greece. Since this was our sixth time on Paros, we’ve developed a pretty regular routine. Every day over breakfast we decide which beach to go to. Although our hotel is right at the water’s edge, on a pretty, sandy cove outside of Naoussa, we like to head further afield. Like most Greek islands, Paros has a few beaches that are crowded and full of organized ‘clubs.' Luckily, there are way more hidden, out-of-the way beaches, where we’ll find no more than a dozen other people. Which is why we keep coming back.
One of our favorite destinations is Lageri. A visit here involves parking our jeep at the edge of a dirt road, then hiking for about 20 minutes to get to a completely dreamy cove. We usually bring a picnic, and settle in for the day.
But not all of beaches are so rustic. We also love a beach with a good taverna. And that pretty much goes for almost every other beach on the island. Even some of the emptiest beaches are blessed with a great place to eat lunch.
We’ve been going to Greece every summer for the past six years. It was sort of a no-brainer vacation for us. We wanted beach (as opposed to our landlocked country house in Umbria) and we wanted it out of Italy (as opposed to our landlocked country house in Umbria).
Greece was the easy part. Choosing which island was another story. Buy a guide book, search the internet, ask your friends. And everyone will tell you that a different island is the place to go. I was finally swayed by my friend Claudia who described Paros, and particularly the town of Naoussa, where she had bought a small place.
Ex fishing village with just enough going on to keep two teen age girls entertained? Check. Pristine beaches within walking and driving distance? Check. Affordable, cute hotels? Double check.
So now we’re just back from our sixth trip there, tanned, relaxed, happy and just a wee bit fatter. Because - this being the Minchilli family - a big part of our trip was all about the food.
Who on earth every told restaurants that photographs of the food they served, displayed next to their menus, would convince customers to come in and eat? The habit of photographing plates of cooked food and using them to lure in hungry travelers is something that is so common in the center of touristy cities and towns in Europe it’s hard to avoid seeing them.
Bad photographs of bad food, faded beyond any semblance of anything other than a plate of something you wouldn't feed to your dog.
I’ve already confessed to my love of getting gifts. Any kind is fine, but give me food and I’ll be extra special happy.
When it comes to giving food as a gift, my neighbor here in Todi, Marisa, gets the prize. Marisa lives down the road from us, on one of the few working farms left in our area. It’s not a big commercial farm, but the family grows enough in their garden and fruit orchard to supply themselves. Ludovico, the son, is also a hunter and with his much loved dogs provides the family with game. And his special truffle dogs have resulted in some of the best gifts I’ve gotten.
