Cooped up in Bordeaux for Confinement: Part II during autumn, the season that already makes me particularly homesick each year, I’ve been thinking about my last trip to the US in February. My annual visit to the Harvard Square T-Mobile for a temporary SIM card with a side of deliciously smiley American customer service. An…

Café Sushi is my mom’s go-to sushi spot on the Left Bank of the Charles. As it turns out, it’s the go-to sushi spot for many, and an industry favorite that has been serving the Cambridge community for over three decades. Nestled inside a kind of vintage strip-mall style building on Mass Ave between Central…

“Poland Springs Sparkling with Lemon. White Cheddar Cheezits. Wheat Thins (original). Philadelphia Cream Cheese and Smoked Salmon. Brown Bread with Raspberry Jam from HiRise Bakery. And above all, triangles (by which I mean spanakopita), in large quantities, please…” That’s the answer I give when my mom asks what she should buy 2-3 days before I…

I haven’t had good Chinese food since moving from the U.S. Perhaps it does exist in Barcelona and I’m just not looking in the right places, but the delivery menu of restaurants like Jardin de Chen (“Pollo Hong Kong,” “Ensalada China,” “Ternera con Tomate”) scare me off. They all seem to offer only butchered versions of American-Chinese classics (already…

I only learned about Belle Isle Seafood Restaurant a few years ago, only a few years after having spent almost three years living a ten minute walk from it, and a ten minute walk from not much else. I spent three years commuting daily for an hour from East Boston to Cambridge, from Orient Heights…

There exist several theories in my family about when and where my passion for good food (and writing about it) began. The sparks of inspiration are often suggested to have been the traditional dishes at my grandma´s house or the ones at my other grandma´s house, mango biche at a cart in Mexico City, a lapin aux…

It was the Thanksgiving turkey that summoned my Frenchman and I to Boston this past November, the perfect motivation for our first trip to the U.S. together. And while there, I made sure he would also taste a tranche of authentic Americana. That meant charcuterie boards, mixology, craft beer, late night Thanksgiving leftover sandwiches, stand-up comedy, high-school…

Davio´s Northern Italian Steakhouse between Copley and the Theater District is tucked away in the armpit of the Hancock Tower in one of those cold financial centers constructed in glass and metal. It´s one of those big-city, big-ass steak joints with white linen draped tables, comfortable chairs and a long, sleek bar made of dark…

When the wheels grind to a halt on Logan’s airstrip and the seatbelt signs go blank, a numbness comes over me. Should I check in as “home” or not? Am I enthusiastic or anxious? Each trip to Boston comes with its own unique ratio of good things to bad things, a mixed bag of past…

Sourdough and sausage stuffing, roasted beets and pearl onions, my mother’s crispy spinakopita defined my most recent visit to Boston. I wasn’t really looking to review new restaurants or to write anything at all, really. I wanted to enjoy food as sustenance and familiar love expressed through flavor instead of searching for words to describe…