Home is where the traffic is.

Every time I go back home to Brazil, I’m amazed at how much of my awareness of the city has been erased by a decade of living in little, organised, law-abiding Switzerland.

Take the insane amount of distance between things, for example. Sao Paulo is a massive city! I’m instantly gobsmacked by the amount of time you spend in traffic – and I’m only here on vacation! This was an exchange I had with my mother during my last trip home:

Me: I have an appointment at ten AM in Vila Mariana tomorrow. What time should I get a cab to take me there?

Mum: Yesterday.

As it turns out, to travel the 11 km from our place to Vila Mariana could take anywhere between 25 minutes and an hour and a half. With a spread like this, no wonder people are so stressed in traffic! I dug deep into my heart to find any vestige of road rage, but it wasn’t there anymore. A little part of what once made me a typical Paulist had become dormant.

Dear Sean Penn…

… the honour of your company is humbly requested…

We’re certainly not all like Ariel. But we all wish to see a dream come true.

Diary of a wimpy woman

Firstly, I must apologise for this hiatus in my blogging as one of the things that never ceases to surprise me is how little time there is in a day when you have a full time job. Nonetheless, I have a proud announcement to make: I’ve been able to make the time to do a couple of thousand words more in the manuscript. But more on that later.

Anyway, there are many things that can be said about writing as an occupation. Sadly, one of the things that can’t be said is that it helps keep you in shape.

Some of you might remember that, at the beginning of this year, one of my New Year’s resolutions was to start running again. Now, that might sound like I was once a committed runner who lost her motivation along the way. I assure you, that is not the case.

The comfort food update

Yes, I, too, realised that I mentioned the comfort food challenge nearly a week ago and haven’t had the time to actually talk about the eating that went on last weekend. So no more dilly-dallying. Let’s talk food.

But before we do, there is something to be said for presentation. I’d love to tell you comfort food is simply prepared and beautifully presented, but I’d be lying through my teeth – and I don’t that, especially not with my mouth full of boeuf bourguignon. So please, take the photos below with a grain of (sea) salt.

Storm warning

After a nice weekend (during which the weather unilaterally decided to go to hell in a hand basket), it was time to go back to work. We’re not snowed under yet, but according to the usually wrong Swiss weather predictions we’re expecting some snow this week. Possibly Thursday afternoon.

Now, before you start judging, I’ll point out that I actually enjoy living in Geneva. It’s a lovely city, it’s small, but with all the gastronomic resources a wildly varied international crowd expects

The comfort food challenge

It’s now officially that time of the year when every person you know either has a cold or is recovering from a cold. I feel a cold coming on, mostly because its first symptoms (coughing and feeling sorry for myself) have already settled in.

So since I decided to look after myself this weekend to make sure this cold doesn’t get any worse, The Angry Chef (who’s really been thinking about this since I wrote about comfort food) decided to issue and accept a challenge: to design and cook a menu of comfort food for this weekend. And he might was well – we’re finally getting some of that cold weather and nasty rain people in the United Kingdom have been talking about, and all you have to do is look outside to change your mind about bundling up in layers of clothes and venturing out.

Stay tuned – I’ll reveal the menu tomorrow night, hopefully with photos to go along. And while the cooking is going on in the kitchen, I’ll see if I can get some writing done in the meantime (currently stuck at 29,188 words – hopefully will pass the 30,000 word mark by Sunday night…).

Have a great weekend, and thank you for reading!

Kitchen comforts

From time to time, I get the blues for no particular reason, which I guess it’s quite normal this time of year (especially if you, like me, live in the northern hemisphere). I know I’m not alone in this one. And from time to time, neither a new pair of shoes, nor new lipstick, nor a new haircut succeeds in pulling me out of this funk. When nothing else will do (and sometimes even when something else will do just fine), the response to the blues is comfort food – thus named for a reason.

Bring it on, 2013!

I know most people make promises they can’t keep for the upcoming year.

Scent and Sensibility

Nonna’s bottle of Shalimar, found at the back of her closet

Just over a year ago, my grandmother (codename Nonna) left us. She was a lovely, funny, happy old lady, who liked pets, receiving postcards from unusual places, looking after people she’d only known five minutes and tending to her orchids. She liked having children around, and always looked out for the ones whom she thought needed protecting. If she liked you, you were always (always!) welcome to drop by for coffee, tea or a meal. She also made what is known as The World’s Best Home-made Lasagna – I guard the recipe with my life, knowing all the while my lasagna will only ever be The Second Best.

Here we are, as in olden days…

Thank you for reading and have yourself a merry little Christmas, now!