My godmother’s husband, a foodie in the truest sense of that overused word, has been buying his sausages and smoked meats from Schaller & Weber since he first moved to Manhattan over 50 years ago. Walking into their store on the Upper East Side, which has been open since 1937, is like stepping back in time. Everything from the floor tiles and ceiling to the friendly expert butchers behind the counter make you feel like you’ve not only walked into a different era but a different country too.

 

 

Aurora and I had the same experience when we visited their factory in Queen’s. On the office’s wooden planked walls hangs a wonderful photograph of the company’s founder, Ferdinand Schaller with his wife Marianne and you get the feeling that he is still presiding over the daily activities and ensuring that the standards he put in place in 1937 are maintained to this day.

 

 

Ferdinand was a master butcher who emigrated to the US in 1927 from his hometown of Stuttgart in Germany. Today it is his grandson, Jeremy Schaller, who runs the business like his father did before him – making sure that, even as their reputation has grown to receive International awards, it still has the feel of a family run business.

 

 

Seeing the operations behind our producers has been one of the most rewarding parts of starting this business. The Schaller & Weber factory tour was no exception and the tasting that we were given in the (now retro chic) office of Jeremy’s grandfather was definitely the highlight. The obscene amount of products laid out before us, made me wish I had skipped lunch and the goody bag I was given as we left, will feed me and my friends for weeks!

 

 

Everything from the Swedish Party Ham to the Bratwurst was superb but if I had to choose just one thing to leave with, it would be the Double Smoked Bacon. I have used it in every pasta sauce and then also simply sliced and fried for a couple of minutes on each side along with creamy scrambled eggs and hot buttered toast. I come from a long line of bacon lovers and it is without a doubt the best bacon I have ever tasted. UK Customs Officials please avert your eyes – I’m taking some home to England for the holidays!

 

 

 

Below is our mixed leaf and herb salad photographed “al fresco!”

 

 

It’s incredible what a little cropping can do.

 

 

Here’s to the merits of resourcefulness. Below, get the recipe for this delicious salad. Make sure to wash your lettuce before eating!

 

 

Mixed Leaf and Herb Salad with Honey Mustard Vinaigrette
Serves 4

Ingredients:

(A mix of leaves and herbs – I like the following:)

Romaine Hearts

Belgian Endive

Frisee

Radicchio

Dill

Chives

 

Dressing:

1 garlic clove (peeled and smashed)

½ cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1 teaspoon Catskill honey

1 teaspoon of Dijon mustard

Salt and freshly ground black pepper

 

Method:

1. Mix all the dressing ingredients in a bowl and let rest for at least an hour. When ready to dress the salad, strain out the garlic.

2. Wash all the leaves and cut into bite seize pieces.

3. Dry and leave in fridge to crisp up for at least 30 minutes.

4. When ready, toss the salad with the dressing and serve.

 

This last weekend I took advantage of the gorgeous weather for a Sunday hike with my father. The air was crisp, jazz music reverberated up the hills from a local festival and the sweet smell of BBQ was in the air. We hiked the Delaware Water Gap and conquered Mount Mimsi (which sounds more impressive than it was. Imagine more of a nice stroll through the woods with a slight incline to the peak). We enjoyed a picnic in front of a lily pond and it was marvelous: an heirloom tomato, crusty french bread, an assortment of cheeses, potato salad and a killer Oregon red to wash it all down. It felt like the beginning of a new season- full of possibilities.

 

Coming back to the city I wanted to get excited for autumn again, so I took a quick stroll to the Union Square Farmers Market. Stalls offered ripe and luscious heirloom tomatoes, a selection of brightly colored peppers and a vast assortment of fresh flowers. A couple of pumpkins and gourds dotted the tables but despite the chill in the air, autumn still felt a long way off. Who knew the next couple of days would bring a heat wave?!

 

 

Desperate to celebrate the coming Fall and inspired by the Farmers Market, I headed home with some cider donuts and decided to take advantage of the remaining flowers in my garden to make a bouquet.

 

For the bouquet, I used a simple mason jar and twine and snipped some of my favorite blooms: a wild delicate pink rose, a stalk of spiky pink celosia caracas and the blue delicate conoclinium coelestinum (these flowers, by the way, far outperformed others in my garden and graced me with blooms for most of the summer).

 

 

As weeks go, the last one was pretty eventful. What surprised me was the event I thought would be emotionally difficult was actually fun and the one that I thought was no big deal, was the one where I teared up. You just never know.

 

I had been dreading my 40th birthday since midnight on New Year’s Eve and when it finally came last week, I found myself surrounded by great friends in my favorite place and loved every minute of it. 40, it turns out, is just a number.

 

My birthday had many highlights but the true star of the day was my friend Adam, who flew from New York to Italy for a grand total of 12 hours. He arrived at 2.30pm and by 2.30am was back in the car for the long drive back to Rome for a 7am flight back to New York (via Frankfurt!).

 

 

Ben, who had given the the most creative gift, a blog post mentioning Many Kitchens, started our dinner off by grilling 3 Florentine steaks that were so large that they barely fit on our barbecue. I made a huge potato gratin with leeks and pancetta, some roasted zucchini and a large salad. And Leda, without whom, our house would have fallen down years ago, had brought over the most delicious cake. The obligatory midnight dip and a round of my favorite board game, Articulate made for a fantastic birthday. It was our last night in the house and it was perfect.

 

 

The following morning, a little bleary eyed, we packed up and closed the house and went our separate directions. Kate and I headed off to Florence for one night in my favorite hotel in the world, Torre di Bellosguardo.

 

 

It sits on a hill just outside the city and the views are kind of ridiculous in their perfection. I kept searching for an Ikea or something to remind you that it’s the 21st Century but it’s impossible. Storms threatened but stayed away long enough for us to have rooftop cocktails looking over the River Arno and back to the hotel to admire a comically large moon over the city with all the main buildings lit up.

 

 

So back to reality and NY after a couple of days seeing family in London, extending my birthday celebrations. Event number 2 was my Swearing In Ceremony for my US citizenship which was scheduled for the Friday of Labor day. Many friends were naturally away and those in town, I told not to bother coming. I was just going to go in there, do my thing and run to the train to head up to Cape Cod. As I stood in a room with hundreds of people and their extended families, I began to realize that it was actually a pretty big deal.

 

I think because the process had been so easy for me that I hadn’t taken on board how hard people fight and how long people wait for this enormous privilege. I texted my friend Camille a slightly desperate message asking her to come to Federal Plaza if she could. She hopped on her bike and my friend Leigh who happened to call at just the right moment, hopped on the subway. They both got there just in time. 150 people from 53 different countries all about to become naturalized together. We were each asked to stand when our country was called out until all 150 of us were upright and ready to pledge allegiance. I think that’s the point that the tears came as all the relatives rushed around us to take photos of us with our right hands firmly in place for the oath. Camille and Leigh were in the crowd and beaming at me like proud parents.

 

 

I felt the need to celebrate with my two witnesses in a very American way so we rushed to The Corner Bistro for a juicy burger (my favorite in NYC) and fries before I headed off to Penn Station. I had been ignoring the fact that I had a hacking cough and a bit of a fever as there was just too much to do. I figured a sleep on the train would fix me up and I was still on a high from all the day’s excitement.

 

I arrived in Cape Cod to stay with my friend’s Lolly and Tim to find a true American welcome. They had pinned a huge American Flag above my bed and prepared the perfect dinner of ribs (that Tim had been smoking all day), moist corn bread, juicy corn and crunchy coleslaw. Two all American meals in one day – not sure how my waistline will survive all this Patriotic eating!

 

 

Unfortunately, the American flag I slept under, while making me smile, didn’t give me quite the protection I needed from the next day’s Pneumonia diagnosis which put a bit of dampner on the weekend’s festivities. It was the first clam bake I had missed in 15 years but I can think of many worse places to be sick than being cared for by the incredibly maternal Lolly in such a beautiful place. So I’m using Pneumonia as my excuse for no recipe this week and some photos instead.

 

Sadly there is no photographic evidence of the other few dramatic/hilarious events that happened last week, such as me mistaking my bikini strap for an enormous viper in the pool and almost drowning from fear or the car breaking down 5 miles from Heathrow airport in the middle of a massive junction and my mother trying to hail any passing vehicle to take her daughter. You’ll just have to use your imagination.