Okay, I think I’m full now.

What I’ve been eating over the past week and a half month [sorry about the lax posting; i’ve been a-spinning on the playground merry-go-round that is life. a little dizzy and nauseated, but at least i’m finally going to post something already]:

Pork cheek, tongue and shank (I think) with bean stew at the Dan Barber dinner at Salone del Gusto.

Ciccio Sultana’s (of the famed Il Duomo in Ragusa, Sicily, where I had perhaps my all-time best meal in Italy) arancina, made with carnaroli rice with saffron and filled with a meat sauce and canestrato cheese fondue. This was at a different Salone dinner.

La Taverna di Fra Fiusch (in the difficult-to-find hamlet of Revigliasco in Moncalieri, just outside Turin. This would be their version of carne cruda. Delightfully peppery little sprouts they had on there.

British rare-breed Manx Loaghtan lamb that I picked up at Salone. With more-fat-is-more-better mashed potatoes and tons of red wine sauce. And salad. Can’t forget the salad.

Bob’s beans, from Cascina di Cornale, every celebrity chef’s favorite humble provisions store in the Langhe. I think they’re Bob’s — they’re named after someone with a very American-sounding name, but it’s been a while since I’ve been, so could be Sam or Bill or something like that. In any case, cooked John Thorne-style: 4 hours in a covered clay pot with nuthin’ but bean juice to cover, a handful of sage leaves, a clove of garlic and salt, pepper and paprika. I’ve been eating variations on this for the past two weeks (that is, different beans, same process). Does wonders for cranberry beans. And seriously, the more freshly dried they are, the better the results. The crazy-expensive Zolfino beans I picked up in Tuscany last year and finally excavated from the deep, dark, long-neglected recesses of the pantry went into the pot this week and took eons to finish cooking. Crunchy beans are no one’s friend.

The beans are part of this whole process of cleaning out my not insignificant store of dry/edible goods. Yes, if you weren’t on the receiving end of the missive, I’m moving back to NYC and I’ve got to divest myself of as many of worldly goods as possible. It ain’t easy. Especially since I’m an aspiring John Soane.

More tantalizing photos and obscene close-ups of what I’ve eaten recently on the Flickr page. Don’t go if you’re hungry.

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