VittlesVamp

Toasting in Sonoma

I went to Sonoma. I had wine. I had a lot of wine. Yet, my most memorable toast didn't include the clinking of glasses. It was literally just, well, toast.

I was on kitchen duty at the elegant farmhouse we rented. What was I to make for breakfast among the vines and olive groves? Toast was on the morning menu.

Of course, Avocado Toast was a must-do, dusted with cumin and topped with a sunny-side egg, oozing bright sunshine yellow across the plate. But, I think the Ricotta Toast was my fave. Pictured above, I slathered the grilled sourdough slices with fresh, soft ricotta cheese, sprinkled on some fleur de sel, black pepper, and orange zest, and then finished it off with a drizzle of honey.

Come to think of it, maybe we should have raised our mugs of coffee to toast the toast.

Will have to remember to do that the next time I'm whipping up Ricotta Toast in Sonoma. (And you know there will be a next time!)

Eating in India

You are expecting me to regale you with tales of an Indian wedding feast in Bangalore. Sorry to disappoint, but my friends' "Big Indian Wedding" is a blur of joyful color, laughter, and love -- and food was only a small part of the spectacle.

Instead, what stuck with me on the culinary front in Bangalore were glimpses of market vendors down a winding path, and the image of a smiling young boy selling all manner of crisps in a small storefront in a busy commercial zone...

And, the meal that haunts me still was had on the veranda of a beach house in Goa. It was breakfast among friends post-wedding. It consisted of a bright yellow curry of potatoes and peas, coconut chutney, and freshly made Poori bread that surely is the food of the gods...

All at once hot, puffy, airy, and rich, we couldn't get enough. Layer the golden, poofed beauties with a bit of the potato and chutney -- toss an egg on for good measure -- and roll it up to make a newfangled, irresistible Indian breakfast taco. Some were even more sacrilege, slathering Nutella and slicing bananas atop.

And, the Poori kept coming.

And, we kept eating -- eating until there was no more.

It certainly didn't make for a traditional Goan start to the day, but it was the most giddy, glorious breakfast I can recall. Isn't that what a meal with friends should be?