A History of Food A BRIEF HISTORY OF FOOD By Tim Lambert FOOD IN THE ANCIENT WORLD Food In Ancient Egypt For most people in ancient Egypt food was plain and dull. The staple food of the Egyptians was bread and beer. Bread was baked outside and because of the desert sand was often blown into dough. In time eating bread with grains of sand in it wore down peoples teeth. In ancient Egypt as in all early civilizations meat was a luxury and only the rich could afford to eat it frequently. Nevertheless the Egyptians ate sheep, pigs, cows and goats but meat often came from ducks and geese. However fish were plentiful in Egypt. Egyptian food included many vegetables, such as marrows, beans, onions, lentils, leeks, radishes, garlic and lettuces. They also ate fruit like melons, dates and figs. Pomegranates were quite expensive and were eaten mainly by the rich. The Egyptians grew herbs and spices and they made cooking oil. Beer was made from crumbled barley bread and barley with water so it was lumpy. It was strained before it was drunk. Even so it was still lumpy so it had to be drunk through a wooden straw with a filter. Better off Egyptians drank wine.

Food in Ancient Greece Like Egyptians ordinary Greeks ate plain food. They lived on a staple diet of bread (made from barley or, if you could afford it, wheat) and goats cheese. Meat was a luxury but fish and vegetables were plentiful. Ordinary Greeks ate pulses, onions, garlic and olives. They also ate hens eggs. Peasants caught small birds to eat. The Greeks also ate fruit such as raisins, apricots, figs, apples, pears and pomegranates. Rich Greeks ate many different types of food such as roasted hare, peacocks eggs or iris bulbs in vinegar. Poor people drank mainly water. If they could afford it they added honey to sweeten it. Wine was also a popular drink. Usually wine was drunk diluted with water. Roman Food Roman Food A Roman dining room was called a triclinium. The Romans ate a breakfast of bread and fruit called the ientaculum. At midday they ate a meal called the prandium of fish, cold meat, bread and vegetables. The main meal was called the cena and was eaten in the evening. The Romans were also very fond of fish sauce called liquamen.

They also liked oysters, which were exported from Britain. The Romans turned cooking into a fine art. They are also known for their fine cookware . FOOD IN THE MIDDLE AGES Saxon Food Saxon women brewed beer. Another Saxon drink was mead, made from fermented honey. (Honey was very important to the Saxons as there was no sugar for sweetening food. Bees were kept in every village). Upper class Saxons sometimes drank wine. The women cooked in iron cauldrons over open fires or in pottery vessels. They also made butter and cheese. Saxons ate from wooden bowls. There were no forks only knives and wooden spoons. Cups were made from cow horn. Saxons were fond of meat and fish. However meat was a luxury and only the rich could eat it frequently. The ordinary people usually ate plain food such as bread, cheese and eggs. They ate not just chickens eggs but eggs from ducks, geese and wild birds. Food in the Later Middle Ages After 1100 rich people ate a very good diet. They ate beef, mutton, pork and venison.

They also ate a great variety of birds, swans, herons, ducks, blackbirds and pigeons. However the church decreed that Wednesday, Friday and Saturday were fast days when people were not allowed to eat meat. Rich people usually had fish ponds so they could eat pike and carp. They also ate fish caught in rivers or the sea. The rich ate breakfast in private but they ate dinner at mid-morning and supper at 5 or 6 in the great hall. On special occasions they had huge feasts. The Lord and his lady sat at a table on a raised wooden platform so they could look down on the rest of the household. Often musicians entertained them while they ate. Rich people ate their food from slices of stale bread called trenchers. Afterwards they were given to the poor. Poor people ate simple and monotonous food. For them meat was a luxury. If they were lucky they had rabbit or pork. They also ate lots of coarse, dark bread and cheese. They only had one cooked meal a day. In the evening they ate pottage. That was a kind of stew. It was made by boiling grain in water to make a kind of porridge.

You added vegetables and (if you could afford it) pieces of meat or fish. In the autumn peasants gathered fruit and nuts. In normal years the peasants had enough food but if there was a famine they might starve. Life in the Middle Ages Chinese Food In China the rich ate very well. They ate grains like rice, wheat and millet. They also ate plenty of meat including pork, chicken, duck, goose, pheasant and dog. Vegetables included yams, soya beans, broad beans and turnip as well as spring onions and garlic. They also ate plenty of fish. Soup was made with shark's fin, bird's nest, bears paws and sea slugs. People drank wine made from rice or millet. They also drank tea. Poor people in China ate plain food. In the South they ate rice. In the North they ate wheat in the form of noodles, dumplings or pancakes. Aztec Food Meanwhile in Central America maize was the staple food of the Aztecs. Aztec women ground the maize into flour on a stone slab with a stone roller. It was then made into flour and baked into a kind of pancake called a tortilla.

Aztec women cooked on a clay disc called a comal, which stood on stones above a fire. Also maize was made into a kind of porridge called atole. The Aztecs ate 'envelopes' of steamed maize called tamales stuffed with vegetables, meat or eggs. The Aztecs also ate tomatoes, avocados, beans and peppers, as well as pumpkins, squashes, peanuts and amaranth seeds. They also ate fruit such as limes and cactus fruits. Aztec food also included rabbits, turkeys and armadillos. They also ate dogs. However meat was a luxury for the Aztecs and ordinary people only ate it infrequently. The Aztec nobles drank an alcoholic drink called octli, from fermented maguey juice. Upper class Aztecs drank chocolate made from cocoa beans. It was flavoured with vanilla and honey. Poor people drank water or sometimes an alcoholic drink called pulque. The Aztecs Inca Food The Incas lived in the highlands and lowlands of what is now Peru. In the lowlands the staple food was maize. In the highlands the main food was potatoes. Incas also ate peppers, tomatoes and avocados.

They also ate peanuts and a grain called quinoa. Llamas and alpacas were kept for wool and for carrying loads but they sometimes provided meat. Incas also ate guinea pigs. They also fished and ate birds. However for most Incas meat was a luxury. Incas drank a fermented drink called chicha. Ordinary Incas drank from bowls carved from gourds. Rich Incas drank from pottery vessels or even ones made from gold or silver. Poor people ate food off dishes placed on the ground. Inca nobles ate off a cloth on the ground. There were no tables. The Incas Mayan Food Maize was the staple food of the Mayans but they also grew beans, chilies, sweet potatoes and squashes. The Mayans also ate fruit like papaya, watermelon and avocados. The Mayans ate animals like deer, turkeys, dogs, peccaries (wild pigs) and a kind of rodent called an agouti. They also fished. The Mayans also kept bees for honey. In the mornings people ate a 'porridge' made of maize and chilies called saka.

During the day they ate 'dumplings' made of maize dough with vegetables or meat inside them. The 'dumplings' were called tamales and they were wrapped in leaves from maize plants. The main meal was in the evening. People ate maize 'pancakes' called tortillas. They were eaten with 'stew' made with vegetable and (sometimes) meat. The Mayans drank an alcoholic drink called blache. Maya nobles drank chocolate. FOOD IN THE MODERN WORLD 16th Century Food In the 16th century rich people still ate a variety of food with a great deal of meat. However poor people usually ate dreary food. In the morning they had bread and cheese and onions. They only had one cooked meal a day. They mixed grain with water and added vegetables and (if they could afford it) strips of meat. All classes ate bread but it varied in quality. Rich peoples bread was made from fine white flour. Poor people ate coarse bread of barley or rye. The Tudors were also fond of sweet food (if they could afford it). However in the 16th century sugar was very expensive so most people used honey to sweeten their food.

In the 16th century new types of food were introduced from the Americas. Turkeys were introduced into England about 1525. Potatoes were brought to England in the 1580s but at first few English people ate them. Apricots were introduced from southern Europe. Meanwhile a new vegetable reached England in the 16th century. It was called cauliflower. Only the very poor drank water in Tudor times because it was too dirty. Young children drank milk. Everyone else drank ale or, if they were rich, wine. From the mid-16th century beer became common. The Tudors also drank cider and perry. Rich people liked to show off their gold and silver plate. The middle classes would have dishes and bowls made of pewter. The poor made do with wooden plates and bowls. There were no forks in Tudor times. People ate food with knives and their fingers or with spoons. Rich people had silver or pewter spoons. The poor used wooden ones. In the 16th century people made much of their own food. A farmers wife cured bacon and salted meat to preserve it. She baked bread and brewed beer.

She also made pickles and conserves and preserved vegetables. Many prosperous farms kept bees for honey. Life in the 16th Century Food in the 17th Century In the early 17th century people in England began eating food with forks. Meanwhile during the 17th century new kinds of food were introduced into England (for the rich) such as bananas and pineapples. New drinks were introduced, chocolate, tea and coffee. In the late 17th century there were many coffee houses in the towns. Merchants and professional men met there to read newspapers and talk shop. However for the poor food remained plain and monotonous. They subsisted on food like bread, cheese and onions. Ordinary people continued to eat pottage each day. Food in the 18th Century Food changed little in the 18th century. Despite the improvements in farming food for ordinary people remained plain and monotonous. For them meat was a luxury. A poor person's food was mainly bread and potatoes. In the 18th century drinking tea became common even among ordinary people.

19th Century Food In the early 19th century the working class lived on plain food such as bread, butter, potatoes and bacon. Butcher's meat was a luxury. However the diet of ordinary people greatly improved in the later 19th century. Railways and steamships made it possible to import cheap grain from North America so bread became cheaper. Refrigeration made it possible to import cheap meat from Argentina and Australia. Consumption of sugar also increased. By the end of the 19th century most people (not all) were eating a much better diet. The first fish and chip shops in Britain opened in the 1860s. By the late 19th century they were common in British towns and cities. In the late 19th century canned food first became widely available. The rotary can opener was invented in 1870 by William Lyman. Furthermore in the 1870s margarine, a cheap substitute for butter, was invented. Meanwhile several new biscuits were invented in the 19th century including the Garibaldi (1861) and the cream cracker (1885).

The Digestive biscuit was invented in 1892 by Alexander Grant. Meanwhile the first chocolate bar was made in 1847. Milk chocolate was invented in 1875. Garibaldi biscuits A man named Gail Borden patented condensed milk in 1856. John Mayenberg patented evaporated milk in 1884. The first refrigeration machine was invented in 1805 by Oliver Evans. During the 19th century methods of refrigeration improved and in 1882 refrigerated meat was brought from New Zealand to Britain for the first time. Fred W Wolfe invented the refrigerator for use in the home in 1913. The first electric oven went on sale in the USA in 1891. They went on sale in Britain in 1893. By 1939 there were about 1 1/2 million electric ovens in Britain and about 9 million gas ones. The first electric toaster was invented in Britain in 1893 by Crompton and Co. The pop up toaster was invented by Charles Strite in 1919.

Life in the 19th Century 20th Century Food Ordinary people ate better food in the 20th century. In 1900 some families sat down to a meal of a plate of potatoes and malnutrition was common among poor children. Food was also expensive. In 1914 a working class family in Britain spent about 60% of their income on food. By 1937 food was cheaper and they only spent about 35% of their income on food. Moreover sweets were a luxury in 1914. They became much more common in the 1920s and 1930s. Meanwhile new biscuits were introduced in the 20th century including custard creams in 1908 and bourbons in 1910. Food was rationed in Britain during World War II. In January 1940 butter, sugar, bacon and ham were rationed. Tea was also rationed from 1940. Rationing became much more severe in 1942. From July 1942 sweets were rationed.

Instead of real eggs many people had to make do with 'dried eggs' imported from the USA. Food rationing lasted in Britain for several years after the Second World War. Tea rationing lasted until 1952. Rationing of sweets and eggs ended in 1953. However meat and cheese were rationed until 1954. Ordinary people began to eat a wider variety of food in the late 20th century. That was partly because fridges, freezers and later microwave ovens became common. (Microwave ovens first became common in the 1980s) in the home as well as display fridges and freezers in shops. Chinese and Indian takeaways and restaurants became common. So, in the 1980s, did hamburger and pizza chains. Meanwhile several new types of food were invented in the 20th century. People had been eating ice cream for centuries but the ice cream cone was patented in 1903. Choc-ices went on sale in the USA in 1921. The ice-lolly was patented in 1923.

Sliced bread was first sold in the USA in 1928. Spam was invented in 1936. Instant coffee was invented in 1901. Fish fingers went on sale in 1955. Meanwhile in 1954 Marc Gregoire developed the non-stick frying pan. A Short History of Restaurant Delivery Service Want a great meal but don�t feel like cooking or leaving the house? Call your favorite local restaurant and have your delicious meal delivered. Today that action is almost automatic, but have you ever wondered how restaurant delivery service started? While the history of food delivery is rather sketchy, the earliest documented delivery occurred during the Aegean Period. In the Mediterranean Area a delicacy of breaded pastry topped with exotic herbs, vegetables, and cheese (an early version of the modern day pizza,) was delivered to local patrons. The �cost� was a herd of sheep. It is said that one could get extra cheese for the small cost of one additional sheep! The Women�s Volunteer Service did food delivery during WW II in the United Kingdom to homes that had been bombed and had no working kitchens. This service spread quickly around the world, and was adopted in Philadelphia in 1954.

The primary service was to the elderly or disabled to ensure good nutritious meals. Eventually entrepreneurs jumped on the bandwagon and developed restaurant delivery service. This service started with the pizza delivery in the Chicago area, and rapidly spread through the rest of the United States. Pizza was followed several years later by Chinese cuisine. Surprisingly it was many years later that restaurants specializing in other types of cuisine considered delivery. Many had and still have �carry out�, but did not offer restaurant delivery service. Today many fine restaurants offer delivery service via phone or Internet ordering. Once again restaurant delivery service is undergoing a change. There are now services online where you can enter your address and a list of restaurants that offer delivery in your area will pop up. Just click on the establishment of your choice to see a menu and order. Within minutes your meal will arrive at your door, piping hot and delicious. Never again worry about what to make for dinner; Italian, American, or burgers, exotic or standard fare is but a click away. 21st Century Food The latest development in food is genetically modified food. GM crops are now being grown in many countries of the world. Today in the developed world ordinary people are better nourished and eat a wider variety of food than ever before.

The Tomato's Journey from Peru to Italy to Nello's Sauce - Nello's Sauce Pomodoro! The Tomato in Italy . . . and My Kitchen Italian plum tomatoes. Pomi d'oro. It’s fair to say that I’m obsessed with tomatoes. If you had some in your garden, I’d pick one, sprinkle some salt on it, then eat it whole. They are truly delicious. Every tomato is unique--but I don't mean that in the obvious way. I mean that every tomato has its own consistency of flavors, its own textures. The varieties of tomatoes are seemingly endless. Would you believe that it wasn’t until June 20, 2000 (my birthday, 22 years into life) that I first ate an entire raw tomato? Before that I used to preach against the practice! Somewhere along the line I was told that tomatoes were poisonous. “Best stay away, little Nello.” But then June 20, 2000, came along. I was seated across from an appropriately burly American opera singer in a little trattoria in Palermo, Sicily.

His Italian was beautiful (as I said, an opera singer) and he recommended that I try the insalata caprese. He told me not to even flinch, not to even look, just order. And order I did. And horrified I was. Horrified when that plate full of bright red raw tomatoes arrived before me. “Will I ever survive?” But not only did I survive, my entire life was changed. In that moment began a love affair with tomatoes. The tomato in Italy has a convoluted history. It’s hard to trace, but there are some key dates and places to keep in mind. For one, the tomato is not indigenous to Europe, though the Europeans certainly have found innumerable delicious ways to serve it. As far as we know, the first tomatoes to make it to Europe were brought by the Spanish Conquistadors from South America (Peru, specifically) in the early to mid-sixteenth century. The fruit was called “tomatl.” The first written account of a tomato in Italy dates to 1548 and it was in Tuscany.

In that account, the fruit, incorrectly aligned with the eggplant, was given the name “pomidoro,” or, if we break the word into its natural components, “pomi d’oro,” golden fruits. That has since shifted into the singular in Italian, “pomodoro (pl. pomodori)." The pomodoro’s rise in Italy was not a quick one. In fact, many of the Italian dishes we consider "staples" that use tomatoes are actually quite young, born in the late nineteenth century when the tomato saw its greatest expansion throughout Italy. Tomato sauce? Nope, that’s a baby. Previous pasta and pizza condiments were solely olive oils, anchovies, and cheeses, to name just a few. But we must keep in mind that the terms “pasta” and “pizza,” too, are mere children. All this aside, the word “tomato” has become synonymous with Italy. This is likely the result of the incredible emigration of Italians to the New World in the late 1800s and early 1900s. At that time, particularly in New York, Italian Americans yearned for the dishes of the Old World.

Mass canning began, as did the international distribution of peeled tomatoes. Although tomatoes are originally from South America, they didn’t make their way to North America for quite some time. It was actually via Europe that they did! Some historians thank Thomas Jefferson for bringing tomato seeds back from a sojourn in Paris. It took some time, too, to shake the fear in the United States that the golden fruits were poisonous. Heck, I was told they were—albeit as a joke!—when I was a little boy. I believed it. Many varieties of tomatoes can be found in Italy, yet the best known for sauces and pastes are those grown in the San Marzano region, located just outside Naples. This is not to say San Marzano tomatoes are the undisputed best tomatoes, but rather that they have a storied history, primarily in the United States, as they (at least those grown in or around the region now classified as “San Marzano”) served as the original export tomatoes some 100 years ago. Moreover, San Marzano tomatoes enjoy protected status by the European Union. I now make a tomato sauce for you all a few times a week. I love making it.

To me there's something special about mixing and ultimately reducing delicious ingredients into a wonderfully tasty sauce, one that can be used in so many creative ways. My secret recipe focuses on the flavors of the tomatoes. It’s a balanced arrangement--a classical composition!--of the best possible ingredients, producing, in my opinion, a wonderful and unique balance of taste. Why not pick up a jar? You can either find it at a store or I'll ship it to you. Speaking of classical compositions, did you know that one of the earliest recipes we have of a tomato sauce was penned by Paganini , the famous Italian composer and violinist? Paganini suggests ravioli pasta to pair with his sauce, as do I with mine. (Mind you: In Paganini's recipe there are likely some ingredients you’d rather leave out. I’m just guessing here, but you’ll see what I mean!) Click here for the recipe. Interested in other tomato curiosities? Here are some things to explore: 1) Take a moment to visit the website of Parma's Tomato Museum. 2) Read a bit about Antonio Cesti's baroque opera, " Il pomo d'oro ." 3) Have you ever heard of lycopene ?

Well, it's in tomatoes and is very good for you! 4) Want to learn more of the tomato's history in Italy? Then pick up a copy of David Gentilcuore's Pomodoro: A History of the Tomato in Italy. Keep eating those tomatoes, friends! ~Nello Copyright 2016 Nello's Italy LLC | All Rights Reserved | PO Box 80441, Raleigh, NC 27623 | Tel: 919-428-4338 | Privacy Policy | Wholesale Ordering | Apply to Be a Mombassador | "It's Italy in a Jar" is a registered trademark of Nello's Italy LLC | "Nello's Sauce" is a trademark of Nello's Italy LLC | Travel to Italy | Soak in Italian Culture | Visit our sister brand American Pasta Sauce Company Eating All the Food in Ecuador Eating All the Food in Ecuador By Flora on May 11, 2013 in Ecuador , South America As is often the way when travelling, my daily lifestyle in Cuenca tends to revolve around food. More specifically, the time of day and my location in the city dictates what exactly I’ll be eating.

So there’s a strong likelihood that a bowl of fruit salad will be sat in front of me at 10:20 each morning at school; at least one spoonful of chilli sauce will be eaten at 13:30 at my host family’s kitchen table; and a chocolate brownie ball is always in my eager hands by 5 in the afternoon. It’s a necessary treat for finishing work. One of the nicest things about living with a host family and spending my days working is developing this type of routine; it reminds me that you’re able to find familiarity wherever you are. But aside from my growing routine of eatables, there’s still a veritable plethora of Ecuadorian food I’ve made it my mission to try. Most are delicious; some are less so – but all are extremely interesting. A plate of pig Pork has never been my favourite meat. While I love bacon, and go crazy over a sausage sandwich, a hunk of roast pork isn’t an immediate temptation. But then I arrived in Ecuador, and was presented with a plate of pig. And suddenly everything changed. Maybe it’s because the meat is so wonderfully tender.

Maybe it’s because dining on a plate of pig isn’t just a meal: it involves a certain amount of browsing, bartering, people watching and very sticky fingers (no cutlery here, folks!). The only place to eat a plate of pig is at the market – usually on the top floor, giving you the chance to scrutinise the customers and proprietors of the stalls below. Once you’ve chosen the pig you’d like to dine from (looking at the posters hanging above each stall to help you decide), the woman accompanying said pig enquires how many dollars worth of pig you’d like to eat? By this point you’re getting overwhelmed by how many times ‘pig’ is mentioned – but it’s worth it. When a plate piled high with fresh meat slides its way onto your table, you know you’re onto a good thing. What do Ecuadorians eat? Plates of pig usually come with a generous helping of mote, corn kernels which have been boiled and peeled, as well as two or three llapingachos, a kind of mashed potato balled up and then lightly fried.

Then you grab a spoonful of aji, a tomato based chilli sauce which has a permanent place on every Ecuadorian table, and drizzle it lovingly over the entire plate. Well, if you’re anything like me you do; but lots of people aren’t so keen on the heat. Aji is so popular because a lot of of Ecuadorian food has quite a mild flavour. My host family – or, rather, the three male members of the family – are head over heels in love with this hot sauce. It’s ladled over every component of their meals, and, because I enjoy the smug satisfaction on their faces when I take some too, I’ve now started to become equally obsessed. It’s also standing in as a replacement for my need to grind pepper on every foodstuff I eat – which I sadly can’t do in Ecuador, because there’s a distinct lack of pepper at every table I’ve eaten at in the last two months. Salt is another issue; most Ecuadorians pour salt liberally over their meals at the table, as well as during the cooking process. Some of my friends have even complained about overly salty salad being served to them at their host houses. I’m seriously lucky with my host family’s taste in food.

They favour freshly squeezed juice at every meal, a delicious and healthy range of meats and rice, and, fundamentally, they enjoy their lettuce unsalted. Plus they have a thing for good cheese, which is a dangerous indulgence for me; seeing them taking tinfoil parcels from the fridge and unwrapping huge chunks of parmesan and gruyere is absolutely my favourite kind of food porn. This apparent cheese appreciation also a saving grace for Ecuador, which has been woefully lacking (who have woefully let me down) in the typical companion foodstuff: the bread department. Where is all the breaded goodness? I am a bit of a carb lover – give me a four cheese pizza or a plate of pasta smothered in sauce, and I will be forever yours. Once I’ve finished licking the plate, anyway. This love of doughy goodness also manifests in the form of an intrinsic desire for good bread; crusty, chewy, grainy and squishy, as long as it tastes good, I’m essentially living in the bakery.

Plus Ecuador lays claim to possibly the most adorable bread-related product I’ve ever heard of; small bread rolls with a small amount of slightly scorched cheese covering the top, named rodillas de cristo. Because they clearly look exactly like the knees of Christ… So when I stepped over the first panaderia threshold, and realised how many different breads cost as little as 25 cents each, I was in heaven. And then I took a bite of a delicious looking roll, to find it dry, mealy and almost stale. Misery, thy name is disappointing bread. Thank god this roll had meat inside! Since that day, I’ve been overly cautious with what Ecuadorian bread I eat; but it does seem like it’s a pretty common problem. The only place where the rolls are surprisingly fresh tasting is at the bakery opposite my afternoon placement – and this place also poses a problem. Not because of its bread, though… All things chocolatey and delicious This bakery, like most other shops of every kind in Cuenca, sells a surprisingly large array of sweet treats, as well as baked goods: ice cream, cookies, sweets and cakes.

While I’m not the biggest ice cream aficionado, I do have a slight hankering for anything resembling a brownie. And the tray covered in little mouthfuls of chocolate brownie balls, in turn covered in chocolate icing and coloured sprinkles, are simply too much temptation to resist. There is so much ice cream in this city it’s slightly ridiculous! And often it’s combined with chocolate sprinkles, brownie pieces, sugary sauces – and even, in the case of one centrally located store, an imitation Cold Stone Creamery station, where various sweet treats of your choice are smashed up inside your chosen ice cream. We’ve had to start avoiding walking past it now because our minimal amount of clothing won’t appreciate the overstretched waistlines of one pair of jeans apiece… The meals that didn’t past the test Sadly, of course, there are always going to be a few dishes that you can’t quite stomach. There was the palm heart ceviche we tried in Quito – marinated overnight in pure orange juice to give it a overwhelmingly acidic sweetness – and the numerous bowls of chicken soup, complete with soft and fatty chicken claw protruding from the inner depths, that I haven’t been too fond of.

And, weirdly enough, one of the worst things I’ve eaten has been a pitiful substitute for ketchup – a somewhat watery yet also spicy tomato tasting liquid, which is a nasty surprise when you scoop up a happy forkful and realise its simply not quite what you were expecting. But the biggest challenge of all is still to come; the Ecuadorian piece de resistance that has most foreigners gritting their teeth and attempting to swallow. Guinea pig. Known in Ecuador as cuy, it’s seen as a delicacy, usually costs at least $20 in a restaurant and is often ordered as part of a celebratory meal. So I why haven’t eaten cuy yet? I never owned guinea pigs when I was younger, so I don’t have a deep-rooted affection for the little guys. But I figured it was probably better to wait until I was in an actual restaurant and didn’t run the risk of getting incredibly sick from street guinea pig. The women roasting the poor claw-stretching rodents in chalky white embers at the markets may not be charging $20, but you could still regret the purchase in a number of other ways!

Plus it seems like one of those meals you have to try en masse, complete with lots of over dramatic reactions and plenty of photos – and until we get back from Peru, a lot of my friends are broke. Guinea pigs aren’t exactly part of the budget. Eating on the cheap In fact, eating in has become something of the norm for us now. There’s an element of economised living afoot in Cuenca, and it actually makes things more fun. When we fancy a big meal in a familiar cooking style, we head to the market and pick up mounds of fresh vegetables for a couple of dollars – and thanks to two friends renting an apartment, we have a kitchen at our disposal. Hot dogs have also become something of an obsession with our group. Possibly because they’re a cheap, filling snack food that isn’t made of guinea pig. And living with a budget in mind means we search out the bargains. So instead of heading straight for the nearest sit down place when we’re hungry (tables equal VAT!), there’s a likelihood we’ll go for the street stalls instead – braving the rumours of dodgy stomachs in the name of a cheap meal.

Food means people Most of all, experiencing new foods in a new country is one of the best ways possible to meet new people. Having the briefest of Spanish conversations with the woman serving you meat and potatoes while you sit on wooden benches is infinitely more fun than being handed an English menu in a fancy restaurant. But the best foodie moments have been the most spontaneous of all; wandering through the market with arms full of ripe avocados, six people busy chopping spring onions and tomatoes in the kitchen, and a group of friends indulging in a saucepan-sized batch of freshly homemade guacamole. Sitting on the roof under the Ecuadorian sun, and indulging in deliciousness. Related About Flora Flora Baker is the founder and editor of Flora the Explorer, where she writes about her travels around the world, her volunteering exploits and her ongoing attempt to become fluent in Spanish by talking to anyone who'll listen. Follow her on Facebook , Twitter , and Google Plus . […] Eating All the Food in Ecuador – Flora The Explorer – As is often the way when travelling, my daily lifestyle in Cuenca tends to revolve around food.

More specifically, the time of day and my location in the city …… […] Leave a Reply Cancel reply Who is Flora The Explorer? I’m Flora, a freelance writer, traveller and avid volunteer with an obsession for hunting out the weirdnesses of the world. Over the last seven years I've lived in Florence & San Francisco, worked in India & Iceland, volunteered in Nepal & Lithuania, and more recently spent eighteen months attempting to become fluent in Spanish while journeying around South America . After stints as as a Colombian journalist, a Bolivian artificial limb maker and a Brazilian builder, I’ve come back to London for my Masters degree - and to plan my next adventure. My vague aim is to visit every continent twice before I turn thirty one – and explore as much of the world as possible in the meantime! Follow along on Facebook , Twitter , and Instagram . A Food Lover's Guide to Genoa, Italy | Travel + Leisure A Food Lover's Guide to Genoa, Italy A Food Lover's Guide to Genoa, Italy By Bruce Schoenfeld T+L Just In newsletter.

T+L Newsletters T+L reels in decadent squid-ink ravioli, hearty roasted branzino, and so much more on the Ligurian coast. The fish were dentici, what we’d call sea bream. Silver-scaled and glossy, with limpid, full-moon eyes, they were fanned out on ice like a croupier’s cards and seemed to have been pulled from the water about, oh, three minutes before. I found them remarkable, but the shoppers milling around the storefront market clearly didn’t regard them as anything special, and this I found even more remarkable. I’d only just arrived back in Genoa after many years away, in the hopes of reacquainting myself with a city that had once been a favorite haunt. As I zigzagged (the only way you can get anywhere in this city) toward lunch in the old port, a glimpse of those fish stopped me cold. They offered a vivid reminder of what I’d always loved most about Genoa, a city that surely ranks among Europe’s most underappreciated. Once a fishing village, Genoa grew without plan or forethought across a series of hillsides.

As a result, it feels unpredictable, as if something surprising—a mansion, a crevice, a Minotaur—could be hidden around the next corner. It dominated commerce in the upper Mediterranean for centuries and is renowned for flinging open its doors to anyone with the wherewithal to dock a boat. Yet it lacks the artistic heft of Florence, the stateliness of Turin, and the Art Nouveau pizzazz of Verona, let alone the grandeur of Rome. It’s also absurdly difficult to traverse. Its roads meander down from the hills so hesitantly that you’d swear they were scared of the sea. The steep slopes often put what the map considers the next street over some 100 feet above your head, accessible by either a 45-minute walk or a helicopter. “The most winding and incoherent of cities, the most entangled topographical ravel in the world,” Henry James called it. Nevertheless, James loved Genoa. So did Flaubert, and Joseph Conrad, who set part of his last novel there, and Wagner, who insisted that Paris and London “pale by comparison.” They loved the eclecticism of its architecture, the unexpected vistas from its hillsides.

I’m certain, too, that they reveled in the cerebral conversation that one finds at meals and parties and even trips to the barber in Genoa, for the Genoese have an adoration of words and ideas that transcends the barriers of language. Theirs is a vital, energetic city with a constant bustle and hum; in a country full of dramatic ports with unique characters (Trieste, Venice, Naples, and Palermo, to name a few), it’s the biggest and most important to the national economy. But I hadn’t come to Genoa for commerce or culture. I’d come for the seafood. Liguria stretches across the far western extension of Italy like a rubber galosh, thin and long and serving to insulate the rest of the region from the water. And though its historical contributions to gastronomy are the chickpea tarts called farinata, pandolce cakes, and—above all—pesto, the fish and shellfish off its coast are as varied and glorious as any in Italy. When I’m there, I never eat anything else.

A far from exhaustive chronicle of dishes I’ve eaten there would include sardines, sea bass, and snapper; the squidlike seppia, seppiola, and seppiolina; migratory tuna and local prawns; mullet and bream; even fingernail-size bianchetti, which are somehow related to mackerel. They’ve been cooked in soups and stews, tossed with pasta, stuffed inside ravioli, laid across a crackling grill. Walking toward lunch an hour after arriving, I found myself eager to revisit them all. I’d get to know one of my favorite cities all over again, one meal at a time. In theory, Genoa’s old port is becoming gentrified, but it still offers the atmospherics of a working waterfront out of a 1950’s movie, to the extent that Marlon Brando’s Terry Malloy seems likely to appear at any moment. Hidden off a blind alley, the Antica Osteria di Vico Palla looks like it hasn’t changed in a century, though its current incarnation dates back only 11 years.

Wooden tables are set haphazardly under a low ceiling, and a small chalkboard is propped on each to serve as the menu. (Written in the Ligurian dialect, it isn’t especially helpful.) The food is as simple as a folk song, but full of vibrant flavors; take for example the dense sardine soup bagnun di acciughe, which tastes like the classic Sicilian pasta con le sarde—pasta with a sardine sauce—except without the pasta. There was an hour wait at the restaurant when I arrived, so I agreed to share a table with a heavy-eyed IT consultant who works Italy’s northern half. When I offered my theory on eating in Italy, that just about anywhere you are, you can eat as well as you would in the country’s renowned culinary capitals, he came to life.

He gave me a superb rendition of that classic Italian gesture—palms upturned, head cocked, smile on only one side of the mouth—that means “not only did I already know that, but you’re perhaps the last person on earth to figure it out.” Then he stretched across the table to dip his bread into the pungent mushroom broth surrounding my ravioli di branzino—which were yellow on top (from egg yolks), black on the bottom (from squid ink), and stuffed with sea bass, while nodding as if he’d asked himself permission. “As Italians, we understand that wherever we go, we’ll eat well,” he said. “But maybe better here than most places.” I was staying at the Bentley Hotel , in the Carignano district, a retrofitted office building from the 1920’s that turned out to be the best hotel I’ve ever found in Genoa. Sitting on my private terrace in the mornings, I plotted out my next meals before heading out to some distant part of the city on a walk. Because of its topography, those hilltops and hillsides and valleys between, Genoa has evolved as a disparate collection of neighborhoods.

Navigating from one part of the city to another is challenging even for natives, which means that many of these pockets and enclaves have little contact with one another. Every district has its own favorite restaurants, but everyone I spoke to agreed that Piazza Manin’s Il Genovino , which sits high above the city on some hill I would have never stumbled upon, was worth the journey. What I discovered when I arrived for dinner was a shambolic restaurant with mismatched floors, stacks of wine guides and art books serving as decoration. It was busy but not crowded, and conversations seemed to be taking place between tables and even from room to room. My tagliolini al nero di seppia con ragù di seppia e pomodori—strands of thin black pasta served with slices of tender cuttlefish, half-moons of diced tomatoes, and basil—was so delicious, I wondered why Italian restaurants everywhere couldn’t create the same. The ricciola, a fish similar to pompano, was topped with wafer-thin potatoes soaked in olive oil, ringed by olives, then baked in a very hot oven.

It tasted like someone’s grandmother made it, just after someone’s grandfather had returned from a day of deep-sea fishing. As the meals passed, I noticed that every restaurant had a way of interpreting classic Genoese cuisine that was simultaneously elemental and original. Years before, I’d eaten at the Antica Osteria del Bai , a stone hut set directly on the water west of the city. It has been serving lunch and dinner in the same place for 210 years and Gianni Malagoli has owned it for 42 of them, but he recently ceded control of the cooking to his son-in-law, Marco Maistrello. When I visited the tiny kitchen this time, Malagoli explained that he serves only fish from the gulf, caught each morning. Then Maistrello brandished a still-twitching baby snapper as proof. He’s especially proud of his tartares—labeled as such and not as the trendier crudo—and I understood why after tasting a bold-flavored snapper with orange zest and dried tomato. But the dish I’ll remember was the hand-cut farfalle tossed with chunks of snapper and delicate stewed eggplant.

Earthy and autumnal, it somehow smelled like chestnuts and tasted like a turkey’s stuffing. Beside me sat nearly a dozen men (and one woman) vociferously enjoying their meal. They turned out to be execs from the Genoese soccer team Sampdoria, taking their habitual game-day lunch, eating four courses and drinking expensive wine. (I tried to imagine the brain trust of, say, the New England Patriots doing the same.) Genoese being Genoese, and soccer being a conversational lubricant around the world, we inevitably fell into a deep discussion. The uneducated migrants who came from Sicily and the bottom of the peninsular boot after World War II in search of work didn’t have the means to support the Genoa Cricket & Football Club, a staid, dignified organization created by an Englishman in the 19th century. But in this postwar amalgamation of two existing teams, Sampierdarenese and Andrea Doria, the new working class found a Genoese institution to embrace as its own. Those sociological lines have blurred somewhat over the years, but Sampdoria remains as unpretentious and authentically Genoese as that farfalle with snapper.

By the time I left the restaurant, I’d become fast friends with the club’s directors and had been extended an invitation to the game that night. Sitting near midfield in a sea of Sampdoria supporters, I reveled in not just team spirit but in the campanilismo that leads every Italian to value his own region, his own city, his own neighborhood, even his own side of the street above anywhere else. It was an early-round match in the pan-European UEFA championships, and Genoa routed the visiting Lithuanians as we sang incomprehensible songs in some dialect of a dialect. Swept along by the enthusiasm, I abandoned my dinner plans. We ended up eating a late supper around the corner from the stadium at a nameless trattoria, a glorified sports bar. My bowl of pasta pomodoro would have been the highlight of the menu at the best Italian restaurant in most American cities. I began the next morning with a visit to the caravaggios at the Palazzo Bianco gallery, on Via Garibaldi.

Then I set out to find Luca Collami, who is renowned as Genoa’s most innovative chef, though I couldn’t help thinking that was like being called the most innovative bartender at the Harvard Club. Still, Collami did once offer a tasting menu titled “25 Tastes from Raw to Cooked” that supposedly took four hours to eat. He’d retired that concept, but his Ristorante Baldin, in a suburb near the airport, felt more urbane than anything in the city center. As soon as I arrived, someone swept away my coat and someone else immediately led me to a table and handed me a glass of wine. The tablecloth before me was a luminescent goldenrod, the floor a gleaming dark wood, and the deep lush tones of Chopin, I think, or Brahms, filled the room. It felt like an exclusive private club. I spotted only one other customer who wasn’t wearing a dark business suit—and no women. My server confirmed that the “25 Tastes” menu was no longer available, but he did offer four others. The one I chose included wine pairings and an astonishing range of fish dishes.

Sugarello—a kind of mackerel—was served raw with basil oil, chopped olive, and red pepper, a construction that would have belonged at a new-wave sushi bar. It could hardly have been less like the equally delicious steamed zucchini flower stuffed with heavily anchovied stockfish that came later. Even better was a potato gnocchi with seppiolini that had the dark, intense flavor of pan juices and caramelized onions: cuttlefish for liver lovers. Why, I wondered, is such transcendent food not valued out in the wider world? Why are there no Genoese restaurants we’ve heard about at home, and cooking schools that attract hundreds of Americans, and television chefs making pilgrimages here? Driving back from Baldin, I tried to list cities in which I could eat indisputably better over the course of a few days and came up with exactly none. Paris? At the highest end, sure, but at the cost of many thousands of dollars. New York? Over a month, without question, but I’d match it meal for meal with Genoa over a long weekend. Bologna?

Well, yes, but it has a far richer and weightier cuisine, one I’d have a difficult time enjoying for more than a few meals in succession. But if it was Genoa’s lot to stay in the shadows, I was, thankfully, in on the secret. That night, I headed off to eat the last meal of my visit at La Bitta nella Pergola, which had Genoa’s only Michelin star (it has since been renamed A Due Passi dal Mare ). Commendations from Michelin aren’t necessarily a good sign in Italy, where the French guidebook tends to bestow honors on what seem like parodies of high-end restaurants, fussy establishments with starched linens and sommeliers bearing tastevins. And when I walked through the door, my heart sank, for La Bitta has a nautical theme, that last refuge of nondescript fish houses, chowder barns, and fry palaces around the world. A grand painting of a naval battle was hanging on a wall, as if to herald the restaurant’s inevitable mediocrity. The door to the kitchen even had a porthole.

I sat down before a heavy silver plate, and a distracted waiter in a red bow tie snatched it away without a word. I contemplated leaving, but almost immediately—before I’d even ordered—an amuse-bouche arrived. It was a bite-size anchovy, fried and unadorned, and after that one bite I forgot all about the porthole and the painting and the bow tie; rarely have I had a mouthful of fish so impeccably prepared. Later, I had a glistening yellow heap of spaghetti, sprinkled with tuna roe, studded with the obscure garinella (which in English is the equally obscure “latchet”), and resting in a muddy-red broth that made for perhaps the single finest dish of my visit. I could have left then and been overjoyed, but in Genoese restaurants, more is usually even better. So I stayed for my roasted branzino, thickly sliced and served skin-up with diced potatoes, small olives, and fresh dill. A triumph of local ingredients, it couldn’t have existed anywhere that was not just on the sea, but this sea, mare nostrum, in Genoa.

Ligurian Wine Tips Italy makes some of the most famous wines in the world—bold, flavorful reds such as Barolo, Brunello, and Chianti. None of them come from Liguria. But that doesn’t mean the local products aren’t delicious, especially the whites. Ligurian wines are typically light and refreshing and are a great complement to seafood. Here, three to look out for on menus or back home. Bruna Riviera Ligure di Ponente Pigato U Baccan The 2005 edition of this crisp white may be the finest wine ever made in the region, and the 2006 isn’t far behind. It tastes like an apricot crème brûlée. Claudio Vio U Grottu A focused and floral Pigato from a tiny producer. It’s a hard-to-find bottling but worth looking for. The mouthfeel is Burgundian, but the minerality is pure Liguria. Terre Bianche Arcana Rosso This blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and the indigenous Rossese could almost pass for a wine from the Tuscan coast. Not for pairing with fish, but rather a hearty pasta or stew.

Bruce Schoenfeld is Travel + Leisure’s wine and spirits editor. Getting There If you can brave the vertiginous landings at Genoa’s Cristoforo Colombo Airport, choose one of the many itineraries from North America. Otherwise, fly direct to Milan’s Malpensa and drive the 75 miles from there. When to Go Genoa has northern Italy’s mildest winters, but the city is at its loveliest between April and June, before the nearby resorts of Cinque Terre and Portofino fill up and rental cars clog the roads. Stay Great Value Bentley Hotel Once the headquarters of a steel manufacturer, its rooms are light and spacious and the staff is superb. If you can help it, don’t stay anywhere else. 4 Via Corsica; 39-010/531-5111; thi.it; doubles from $211. Eat Rome.info > Rome's food, Roman cuisine, Italian food dumplings made with semolina, baked with butter, cheese and nutmeg. Coda alla Vaccinara: oxtail stewed until tender and buttery, in savoury tomato sauce.

Pizza alla Romana: thin crusted, crunchy white pizza, served brushed only with olive oil and flavoured with rosemary Pasta cacio e pepe: pasta in a creamy olive oil, pecorino cheese and black pepper sauce Pasta e ceci: pasta and chickpeas soup, seasoned with rosemary Pasta all’arrabbiata: pasta in a tomato sauce, onion and red chili peppers Pomodori con riso: Tomatoes filled with rice, baked and served with roasted potatoes Trippa alla Romana: tender tripe in creamy, spicy tomato sauce, served sprinkled with pecorino cheese Pajata: baby lamb intestines cooked in tomato sauce, also served as topping for pasta( “ rigatoni con pajata”) Porchetta: suckling pig roasted, with laurel herb, garlic and black pepper, typical from the roman countryside Abbacchio alla scottadito: roasted baby lamb chops served piping hot Fave: fresh broad beans, they can be enjoyed fresh and raw with bits of pecorino cheese or cooked with onion and bacons.

Puntarelle: Fresh chicory sprouts served with a garlic and anchovies dressing Carciofi alla Giudia: artichokes fried in a very special way so that they are soft and tender inside and crispy and crunchy outside. A typical food from the old jewish roman tradition. Its flavour can be exalted by a chilled Frascati white wine . . Pollo alla Romana: tasty bits of chicken cooked with bell peppers Saltimbocca alla Romana: Veal scallops cooked with white wine, sage and prosciutto Maritozzi: soft buns with raisins and candied orange peels. They can be enjoyed plain or filled with fresh cream Crostata di Ricotta: a kind of cheesecake made with fresh ricotta and candied fruits. Depending on the different versions it is available, raisins, pin nuts and other flavourings can be added. Ciambelle al vino: hard cookies in a shape of doughnuts, to be dipped in wine at the end of the meal.

Eating in the Renaissance Worksheet 2: Renaissance food - Examines the cookery and food of the Renaissance; information about feasts and the availability of foods Grace before the Meal, by Anthonius Claessins, c. 1538-1613. Renaissance Cookery Medieval and Renaissance cooking was not, as is so easily assumed today, a dubious practice that produced inedible dishes filled with strange spices and dangerous ingredients. Cooks of the time used many of the same type of foodstuffs that are in use today, in addition to forms of food preparation that would be familar to any of us. The dishes and recipes they prepared were neither inedible nor dangerous, but extremely delicious and tasty products that employed the finest meats, grains, fruits, and vegetables their society was capable of developing. Then as now, mankind knew what tasted good, and the sauces, stews, pies, roasts, and soups that satisfied the 14th century family are just as wholesome and enjoyable today. Dirk de Bray (c. 1620 to 1678) Domestic Scene Indeed the hardest part of creating Renaissance food is often understanding the recipes.

The measurements, if any, are unfamiliar as is the spelling and at times the terms used. Look at this recipe, what do you think it is for? Curye on Inglysch p. 154 (Goud Kokery no. 18) To make gingerbrede. Take goode honey & clarifie it on + e fere, & take fayre paynemayn or wastel brede & grate it, & caste it into + e boylenge hony, & stere it well togyder faste with a sklyse + at it bren not to + e vessell. & + anne take it doun and put + erin ginger, longe pepper & saundres, & tempere it vp with + in handes; & than put hem to a flatt boyste & strawe + eron suger, & pick + erin clowes rounde aboute by + e egge and in + e mydes, yf it plece you, &c. Curye on Inglysch p. 154 (Goud Kokery no.

18) Note: Some of the early English recipes use the thorn (+ ), a letter that is no longer used in English. It is pronounced "th." Here are some of the terms defined: fayre 1 T sugar 30-40 whole cloves (~ 1 t) (or 5 t sugar, pinch powdered cloves) Bring honey to a boil, simmer two or three minute, stir in breadcrumbs with a spatula until uniformly mixed. Remove from heat, stir in ginger, pepper, and saunders. When it is cool enough to handle, knead it to get spices thoroughly mixed. Put it in a box (I used a square corning-ware container with a lid), squish it flat and thin, sprinkle with sugar and put cloves ornamentally around the edge. Leave it to let the clove flavor sink in; do not eat the cloves. An alternative way of doing it is to roll into small balls, roll in sugar mixed with a pinch of cloves, then flatten them a little to avoid confusion with hais. This is suitable if you are making them today and eating them tomorrow.

Gutting a Hare, Hans Burgkmair, early 16th century Foods of the Renaissance Many foods of our time have been discovered, developed or introduced since the Renaissance. Indeed, the Renaissance did bring many new foodstuffs to Europe, but it took considerable time for many of these things to become generally accepted and known. Here is a list of some of the foods which did not come into use until late or after the Renaissance. Allspice - a New World food item, also called Jamaican Pepper. Artichokes Rhubarb - like the banana, possibly known about but never used. Shortening - an invention of the modern food-chemistry industry. Tea - did not reach Europe until after the Middle Ages. Turkey - Turkey is a New World food that reached Asia Minor only after 1500 and did not come into general use in Europe until well after the Renaissance. Tomatoes - a member of the Nightshade family, it was considered inedible or poisonous. Vanilla Bean Yams - New World. This did not mean that there was less variety of flavours - on the contrary, cooks of the Renaissance worked with many foodstuff and herbs which we no longer use today. and still created fantastic meals.

Basically, people have always known what tasted good and good cooks have always found ways to improve on the flavour of their raw materials. Artist unknown, c 1490 kitchen scene A Renaissance feast Here is an example of a Renaissance wedding feast, as you can see the flavours are varied. You will notice that there is a lot of meat served, meat was not necessarily on your everyday diet, but was served on special occasions. It is likely that little meat was eaten on a daily basis, and that occasions such as these were used to display the largesse of the host. A good thing too as this food is observeably heavy in fats, proteins and stuff guaranteed to make your capillaries scream for mercy. bill of fare for the nuptual dinner of master Baulde Cuvillon 1571 first course You've Got to Eat Here! - Pomodori, Hilton Head Traveller Reviews - TripAdvisor “Visit Calabria Without Leaving Home...” Reviewed 6 June 2012 The newest restaurant sensation on Hilton Head Island is Pomadori.

Hidden in a secluded shopping center (1 New Orleans Road) Pomadori’s owner, manager and chef, Amanda offers her guests a warm atmosphere, an enticing menu and artfully plated meals accompanied by an ample selection of wines and beers…all at quite reasonable prices. The restaurant is small and quite popular. We had an 8PM reservation on a Tuesday night – The place was packed! As we entered several of the exiting diners were quite vocal in their praise of the food they had just consumed. And, as we were being seated one departing couple was trying in vain to make a reservation for Friday or Saturday night. There weren’t any available before 9PM. A word to the wise - if you’re planning on going reservations are a must…and you should make them 3-5 days ahead. Our party of three consisted of me, my wife and my daughter. Upon arrival we were warmly greeted by Amanda. Amanda’s possesses an effervescent personality and an obvious love for her craft. We felt special from the moment we entered until the time we had to leave. Amanda is an experienced chef.

She has studied in the US; previously worked with Robert Irvine and recently spent an additional year in Calabria, Italy honing her culinary skills. Suffice it to say that Amanda’s training and experience is evident in the quality of the food, the well-trained and knowledgeable wait staff and attention to detail throughout the entire meal. Our dinner began with a nice bottle of wine selected from the ample list of offerings. For an appetizer we shared a very delicious order of mussels cooked in a tomato based sauce with garlic and red pepper flakes added for zest. Both the bottom and top of the bowl were garnished with toasted slices of Italian bread. Additional bread (we love sopping) was provided in a basket along with a high-quality EVOO for dipping. My entrée was selected from the three daily specials that were offered. I just couldn’t pass on the Osso Bucco ($32) which had been braised all day long and served in a light, tomato based sauce. The shank was topped with the best fried potato straws I’ve ever tasted. For entrees, my daughter and wife selected items from the regular menu.

Their entrees consisted of Orecchiette con Salsiccia e Rapini ($16 - home made sausage, broccoli raab and vegetables served over pasta in a Pecorino Romano based sauce) and Linguine con Gamberi ($16 - Carolina shrimp on a bed of linguini with garlic & Parmagiano Reggiano cheese sauce). On our two week vacation to Hilton Head Island we have dined at many good restaurants. Pomodori is one that will be found near the top of the list – both from a quality and value perspective. My only regret is that it will be another year before we return! Visited June 2012 “Everything you'd want for a good Italian dinner!” Reviewed 6 June 2012 I recently met a girlfriend at Pomodori for her birthday dinner, having heard fave reviews about the chef and the food. The only available seats two days before our dinner was at the small bar in the back room but it was a comfy spot in a bustling, almost bursting-at-the-seams restaurant. It was definitely tight for space - people are obviously wanting to get in! - but that also added to the appeal of the restaurant.

I'd heard the chef/owner was welcoming and energetic, but that was an understatement. She came to our seats a few times and proudly talked about her fresh pasta and new dishes without boasting. The food itself was perfect - wonderfully fresh and simply allowing the great individual flavors shine through without competing with too much butter, garlic, etc. While we were stuffed after antipasti and healthy secondi courses, the chef convinced us to try her mascarpone cheesecake. Light, fluffy and absolutely decadent. Great food, energetic atmosphere and extremely fair pricing - will not hesitate to return soon! Visited June 2012 “You Must Eat Here” Reviewed 5 June 2012 Chef Amanda and the whole family are creating great, fresh, flavorful food in a strip mall! We visited Pomodori in May 2012 and I'm still telling people about how great this meal was. The pasta is made fresh daily....Uncle Joe's sausage is handmade on Saturdays....it's really incredible. Chef Amanda spent a long time with us during our dinner which made the experience even better. We learned about her training and how the family works together to deliver such wonderful food and service. I'll go back next time I visit.

Visited May 2012

Question: In Italy, if you were served "Pomodori", what foodstuff would you be about to eat ?
Answer: TOMATOES