I've been away. Not for tour. Not quite vacation. Lots of driving up and down and all around New England. I promise one day soon to talk about the trip, like the night I was cooking bacon on an island when the propane went out, or how I found my new favorite Japanese spot in Portland, ME. I'll go in deep about all the gardening and summer produce and, most of all, how nice it is sometimes to let yourself off the hook and reconnect with family. I promise to get into that later. For now, I'd like to write about how nice it feels to come home.

For a long time I relished the ability to feel at home just about anywhere. Put me on the road, drop me off in a new city, and I'm pretty confident I can find some corner that feels like home to me. I'm a mess when it comes to plotting my general day-to-day (or determining where my actual home should be!), but a pro at landing on my feet somewhere new. Travel illuminates the corners you might otherwise overlook. Once on a solo trip to Paris, I was seated at a leather banquette beside an old woman. Initially I felt a little bummed to be seated at the singles banquette in Paris, the most capital-R Romantic city in the world, but then I saw this woman and forgot about all of it. All of 80 years old, her silver hair in a loose chignon, she was the most glamorous woman I have ever seen. It was close to June but she drank her martini in a fur stole slung loosely around her shoulders. From the corner of my eye, I watched her sneak spoonfuls of Île Flottantes to a Pomeranian in her lap, until she turned to me mid-sip to dish all about her grandsons, smoothing the creases in a photograph from her wallet. Soon we were sharing a half carafe of rosé and sharing stories about our families. Our friendship was newly minted and yet that dinner was as intimate as any with family back home. And yet...

After a few weeks away from my apartment, from my own bed, from my books--I notice the bell clanging inside to go back. I returned from my trip more than a little sad that the summer is half over and was greeted by a monsoon. I dragged my cat, who does not enjoy summer rain as much as I do, into our building and found a copy of the 30th Anniversary Edition of the River Café Cookbook waiting for me from my friend Todd. The design is gorgeous. If you're reading this, chances are you're a River Café nerd too, so I'll spare you the gushing on its simple, straightforward Italian recipes. It's how I want to cook all of the time, but I never do because I tend to overcomplicate things with seasonings and little prep bowls. I went to bed my first night back reading the cookbook cover to cover. 

Few things feel more satisfying after a long trip than getting back in your own kitchen. You know where the salt is. You know that there is salt. Your knives are better. (Or maybe it just seems that way because you spent way too much money on them several years ago so why back down now?) Zucchini is a favorite of mine, and a menace in my mother's garden where they grow too plentifully, transforming into fat marrows overnight. When I go to visit my parents' I make sure to raid the garden. It's so hot in New York that I'm now on antipasti crew. Make this on your stovetop early in the afternoon and keep in your fridge for later. Trifolati just means sautéeing something with olive oil, garlic and fresh herbs (parsley or basil) until it's very soft. The secret is the boiling water--which allows all the delicious, garlic-scented oil to reabsorb into the zucchini. Delicious cold or warm with a few slices of prosciutto and a hunk of bread. For me, this is the perfect summer dinner. Works best with small zucchini (about 4-6" in length), as they're more tender. The bigger guys are too tough and their thicker skin will take all pleasure out of this simple dish.

Thank you, Todd, for this book! I can't wait to dog-ear and stain its pages with grease.

Zucchini Trifolati

Adapted from The River Cafe Cookbook

INGREDIENTS:

12 Small Zucchini, trimmed

2 Tablespoons Olive Oil

2 Garlic Cloves, peeled and sliced

1/2 Cup Boiling Water

1 Cup Fresh Basil or Mint leaves, roughly chopped

Salt & Pepper

Prosciutto to serve

DIRECTIONS

1. Cut each zucchini at an angle into 1" inch slices, about 3-4 slices per zucchini.
2. Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a large skillet, adding the garlic followed by the zucchini. Allow the zucchini to cook slowly for 15-20 minutes. Once the zucchini is brown on all sides, add the boiling water. The pan will bubble, and at this time scrape the brown bits that have gathered at the bottom of the skillet with a wooden spoon.
3. Cook for 5-6 minutes, or until all of the liquid has been reabsorbed into the zucchini. Stir gently if you must stir at all. The zucchini should be soft and very tender. 
4. Take the pan off the heat and add the chopped basil (or mint). Season with sea salt and black pepper. Serve warm or cold alongside prosciutto or mozzarella.

Serves 6.