<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<!--Generated by Squarespace Site Server v5.8.2 (http://www.squarespace.com/) on Tue, 24 Nov 2009 08:46:37 GMT--><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"><title>The Traveler's Lunchbox</title><subtitle>Journal</subtitle><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/</id><link rel="alternate" type="application/xhtml+xml" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/"/><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/atom.xml"/><updated>2009-11-14T09:48:50Z</updated><generator uri="http://www.squarespace.com/" version="Squarespace Site Server v5.8.2 (http://www.squarespace.com/)">Squarespace</generator><entry><title>Q&amp;A: The Silk Road Gourmet</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/11/10/qa-the-silk-road-gourmet.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/11/10/qa-the-silk-road-gourmet.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-11-10T13:24:00Z</published><updated>2009-11-10T13:24:00Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[I think it would be somewhat of an understatement to say I have fondness for books about food, travel and culture. So when Laura Kelley asked if I would like to see a copy of her new cookbook <a href="http://www.silkroadgourmet.com" target="_blank"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">The Silk Road Gourmet</span></a> -&nbsp; the first of a self-published three volume series exploring the cuisines of thirty countries along the ancient Silk Road - I couldn't hit the reply button fast enough to say yes.]]></summary></entry><entry><title>Friends, Beets, Enemies</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/10/20/friends-beets-enemies.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/10/20/friends-beets-enemies.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-10-20T16:12:27Z</published><updated>2009-10-20T16:12:27Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[I've never understood beet-haters. I can fully sympathize with brussels-sprout-haters, for instance, since I even used to be one myself before realizing that a splash of olive oil and a turn in a hot oven make all the difference in the world. Also things like kale (so vegetal! so chewy!) and eggplant (slimy and bitter in the wrong hands) occasionally turn even my stomach, so I can fully comprehend why some people swear them off completely.]]></summary></entry><entry><title>Home is Where the Cake is</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/10/2/home-is-where-the-cake-is.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/10/2/home-is-where-the-cake-is.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-10-02T11:17:00Z</published><updated>2009-10-02T11:17:00Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[It's funny, the things moving teaches you about yourself. Particularly big, trans-global moves - like the two we've done in the last year - are as much about the journey of self-discovery as they are about the journey of things. I now know, for example, exactly which of my material possessions are important to me, since paying by the cubic millimeter to retain possession of them - <em>twice</em> - forces you to figure that out fast. I also have a heightened appreciation of the shades of gray between what I <em>can</em> and <em>cannot</em> live without. Like, I now know that I can live without a microwave but I cannot live without a set of handheld beaters, and that I <em>prefer</em> not to live without a salad spinner but that's it's considerably more preferable than living without a dishwasher. And as for those dwarf-sized fridges without an inbuilt freezer that I happily waved goodbye to when we left Europe, it seems I'll force my husband to drive two hours to pick up a fridge I bought on ebay rather than live with one of <em>those</em> again, even if it was provided free with our apartment. But that's not being unreasonable, is it?]]></summary></entry><entry><title>Hello, Deutschland</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/9/8/hello-deutschland.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/9/8/hello-deutschland.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-09-08T15:45:22Z</published><updated>2009-09-08T15:45:22Z</updated></entry><entry><title>Satays, Staff of Life</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/8/11/satays-staff-of-life.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/8/11/satays-staff-of-life.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-08-12T01:20:27Z</published><updated>2009-08-12T01:20:27Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[Some days, I think I could live off satays. It's not everyday I think this, and in fact most days I don't think about satays at all, but on those days when I do (which coincidentally happen to be the days when I eat them too), I find myself so besotted by them that I think I could really, truly eat nothing else - okay, maybe aside from a little bit of ice cream now and then - and still be happy.]]></summary></entry><entry><title>Culture Shock</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/7/26/culture-shock.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/7/26/culture-shock.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-07-26T16:31:16Z</published><updated>2009-07-26T16:31:16Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[I seem to be the Northwest's new homemade-dairy evangelist. First it was <a href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/5/31/ricotta-in-print.html" target="_blank"><span style="text-decoration: underline;">ricotta</span></a>, and now I'm encouraging the good people of Seattle to make butter - <em>cultured</em> butter, no less. Watch out, next thing you know I'll be telling you to adopt your own cow.]]></summary></entry><entry><title>10 Great Things to Do (and Eat) on PEI</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/7/8/10-great-things-to-do-and-eat-on-pei.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/7/8/10-great-things-to-do-and-eat-on-pei.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-07-08T20:06:05Z</published><updated>2009-07-08T20:06:05Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[Okay, okay, so nothing will stump you guys. I don't know why I try. :) I was, of course, on Prince Edward Island, best known for being the smallest Canadian province and the home of Lucy Maud Montgomery, who published the enduringly popular Anne of Green Gables in 1908. In fact, Anne is a huge draw here - on some parts of the island it's impossible to take two steps without bumping into some Anne-themed establishment or memorabilia, or a Japanese tour group looking for the same. Nevertheless, as fascinating as Anne is, for the last few years the island has been pushing hard to break out of its literary pigeonhole and establish a new identity - a <em>culinary</em> one.]]></summary></entry><entry><title>On the Road</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/6/26/on-the-road.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/6/26/on-the-road.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-06-26T11:32:07Z</published><updated>2009-06-26T11:32:07Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[There are so many things I've been meaning to tell you about, but life right now is just crazy. This week, for example, I'm on assignment in a (rather surprising) culinary paradise. It's a place I've dreamed of coming ever since I was a little girl and fell in love with a certain red-haired literary heroine, but it turns out they have some pretty amazing food too. Do you have any idea where it might be?]]></summary></entry><entry><title>Ricotta in Print</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/5/31/ricotta-in-print.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/5/31/ricotta-in-print.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-05-31T17:04:39Z</published><updated>2009-05-31T17:04:39Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[If you're in the Seattle area and you happen to have a copy of the Sunday Seattle Times on your table, you might want to flip to page 14 of Pacific Northwest Magazine, where I have an article rhapsodizing about the pleasure (and ease) of homemade ricotta.]]></summary></entry><entry><title>Brown Butter Bliss</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/5/27/brown-butter-bliss.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/5/27/brown-butter-bliss.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-05-27T15:00:00Z</published><updated>2009-05-27T15:00:00Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[Have I ever told you how I feel about ice cream? I mean, <em>really</em> feel about it? No? Oh good, I'm glad there are still some secrets between us.]]></summary></entry><entry><title>5 Things for Spring</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/5/12/5-things-for-spring.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/5/12/5-things-for-spring.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-05-12T02:13:54Z</published><updated>2009-05-12T02:13:54Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[I always feel guilty coming back here after so long without a recipe, but if you'd tasted the string of mediocre dishes to come out of my kitchen recently you'd probably say a prayer of thanks. I don't know if I should blame myself or the food, but in the last couple of weeks we've had bitter, water-logged eggplant, chicken with a texture like vulcanized rubber, and a chocolate cake that tasted more like peanuts than chocolate (and no, before you ask, there were no peanuts in it...). Luckily, I've had a pile of things mounting on my virtual desk that I've been meaning to tell you about - news, reviews, and that sort of stuff - so hopefully they'll tide you over until I find out where my recipe mojo escaped to, ambush it from behind, drag it home kicking and screaming and chain it to the stove.]]></summary></entry><entry><title>A Cordial Affair</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/4/21/a-cordial-affair.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/4/21/a-cordial-affair.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-04-21T20:22:00Z</published><updated>2009-04-21T20:22:00Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[I've never been much of a trend spotter, and even less of a trend setter - just ask my friends from high school how many other people were wearing thrift-store kaftans. (Answer: none.) So, it would probably be wise to refrain from making any kind of predictions about the kinds of things that are likely to take the culinary world by storm in the coming months, but I have such a strong feeling about this one I'm going to stick my neck out. Call it a hunch or remarkable stroke of foresight, but I'm betting that soon, on drinks trays across the land, gone will be the gourmet juice cocktails, the expensive imported waters in futuristic glass bottles, and the flavored iced teas in every color of the rainbow, and in their place will be small pitchers of the intensely aromatic syrups called cordials.]]></summary></entry><entry><title>Oeufs of March</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/3/31/oeufs-of-march.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/3/31/oeufs-of-march.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-03-31T20:32:00Z</published><updated>2009-03-31T20:32:00Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[And in just under the wire... a post for March. Is the entire month gone already? I just can't keep track anymore. But if it is, and that is precisely what my calendar is telling me, then winter is gone too, and that is welcome news. Am I the only one who has been itching to see the backside of this winter? I can't remember the last time I had so few good things to say about an entire season. They usually have their ups and downs, but this one seems to have had more than its fair share of downs. The weather, actually, wasn't that bad; apart from that freak two feet of snow that brought the Pacific Northwest to its knees in December it's been pretty mild - sunnier, even, than I was expecting. Nevertheless, between the never-ending depressing news on all channels, the havoc the economic crisis is wreaking on our careers, and - as if to show us that when things seem bad, they can always get worse - a sudden family health crisis that has left us all struggling to cope, these have been three or four months I would like to lock into a box and never have to think about again.]]></summary></entry><entry><title>What Not to Do With Meyer Lemons</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/2/23/what-not-to-do-with-meyer-lemons.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/2/23/what-not-to-do-with-meyer-lemons.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-02-23T23:23:00Z</published><updated>2009-02-23T23:23:00Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[I apologize in advance for what you're about to see. It's not pretty, and frankly, it probably doesn't belong in a family-friendly forum like this. Hopefully your small children are in another room - if they're not you might want to cover their eyes or otherwise distract them before scrolling past the photo below. I don't want to be responsible for any nightmares.]]></summary></entry><entry><title>The Great Spaghetti Compromise</title><id>http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/2/1/the-great-spaghetti-compromise.html</id><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://www.travelerslunchbox.com/journal/2009/2/1/the-great-spaghetti-compromise.html"/><author><name>melissa</name></author><published>2009-02-01T23:04:41Z</published><updated>2009-02-01T23:04:41Z</updated><summary type="html" xml:lang="en-US"><![CDATA[I wish I had a more picturesque story to go along with this recipe. I considered for a moment making up one about about a rustic <em>trattoria</em> in northern Italy, a wrinkled old grandmother in the kitchen, a lot of hand gestures and an almost-illegible recipe scribbled on an empty flour sack. But then I thought better of it. No, it's better you know the truth, that where this dish really has its origins is in stubbornness, intolerance, and marital discord, with a little bit of curry thrown in for good measure. But don't worry, it has a happy ending regardless.]]></summary></entry></feed>