travelblog – GO HERE. DO THIS. EAT THAT.

This entry falls into the DO THIS category, and you can DO THIS from the comfort of your own home. I’m talking about “Cooking With Family”–especially if you have a big, noisy, hungry, chaotic family like mine.

I’m going to take you through what it’s like to cook with my BIG TURKISH FAMILY. There is never enough time and never enough food. If you keep those two things in mind and you’ll be far more at peace with the whole process.

For the first installation of “Cooking With Family” I’m going to discuss Easter Weekend. Or more specifically, LENT. Catholics think they’re all hard-core because they have to give up one thing (of their choosing!) for 40 days. I mean, sure, it’s hard to give up chocolate or beer or whatever it is you think you can’t live without for 40 whole days, but Catholics ain’t got nothing on the insanity of a Turkish Lent.

For Turkish Lent you have to give up MEAT AND DAIRY AND BOOZE for 40 days! MEAT AND DAIRY AND BOOZE!!! Can you imagine?!? No, no you cannot. No chocolate, no beer, no wine, no cheese and no steak. Fish are okay, because in the immortal words of Kurt Cobain, “they don’t have any feelings.”

Now, it’s been many many many years since I’ve participated in this self-inflicted torture, but at least half of my family still partakes in this exercise in self control. I’m sure there are many good reasons why this tradition developed…like cleansing the body and the soul and preparing your taste buds for the inevitable feast to beat all feasts on Easter Sunday making Easter Sunday taste, ironically enough, like heaven.

So for 4o days you’ve deprived yourself of all things delicious and on that last night you really think you can’t take it anymore. You’re totally hangry and craving something, anything with flavor.

Most people on this last night of fasting sit down to a boring dinner of sadness and leftover fasting food. My family, however, can’t do anything the way they’re supposed to. My family has to do everything at DEFCON LEVEL 10.

And thus…Homemade Sushi Night was born.

This is no cucumber-rolls-with-a-side-salad-and-store-bought-ginger-dressing…oh no, my friends, my crazy Turkish family doesn’t do “mediocre” or “store bought”. Not when it comes to food. (Jiro would be proud.)

First you have to perfect the rice. Which took several attempts over the last few years but now…perfect. Yes, that is a bucket of rice you see there, because, like my grandmother always said, “GO BIG OR GO HOME.” Except in Turkish. Obviously.

Make sure you gather all of the ~~minions~~ little ones in the family and get them to work. Because there is a lot of work to do. Like spreading the rice onto the nori, which is much harder than you think it is.

And roll roll roll your heart out.

Side dishes of shrimp summer rolls and edamame? Oh yeah. We’ve got that covered.

Home made carrot-ginger dressing…obviously.

Fancy sushi rolls of roses and dragons, check.

And then…set the table. In your incredibly over-decorated dining room reserved for special occasions.

And DO NOT forget the saki.

And begin the feast. Super fancy Turkish shot glasses required.

I suggest doubling the Saki for this recipe for maximum enjoyment. Nay, go ahead and triple it. You’re with family.

First, we must establish two things:

THIS is Henry Cavill.

And this…is normcore. (Gaaa. So stupid.)

NORMCORE

Since we were talking about Ireland, I thought this would be a good time to bring up the time I swooned like a drooling fool over Henry Cavill. When I was supposed to be interviewing him.

Before arriving on the set of The Tudors, I was told to wear boots because there was going to be a lot of mud.

I live in Manhattan, I don’t own boots that are good in the mud—we don’t have mud, just enormous lakes of melted snow/slush/garbage three feet deep around every sidewalk. But no mud. So I wore my snow boots. Which are utterly hideous. And look like elf shoes. And I wore blue corduroy pants (from the Gap!). And some scarf that I thought was cool, before I realized it had something to do with Palestinians or protests or whatever.

I mean…is this what someone should wear when they are about to meet the second most beautiful man in the world?!

Shhhh, Ryan, it’s okay, I will always love you most.

So this is what I looked like when I met Henry Cavill.

And this is what he looks like.

He walked into the room IN COSTUME, gave me a glorious smile and sat down in the chair in front of me, all ready for his interview. My entire body turned a nice beat red as I made a sad attempt at some small talk while he was getting mic’d up—something like “soooo, how has the day been going? Great great…so…how has the day been going?”

I had my very carefully prepared questions in front of me, which were totally useless. How is a girl expected to read a 12-point font on a white piece of paper when a man dressed like a knight at the round table is sitting in front of her. How, I ask you!

After a few horrendously awkward moments, I finally pulled it together and started asking my questions like a robot reading directly from my list. Then, there was this moment when I actually said something…funny. And he smiled. Nay, he laughed! And all I could think was, “HE THINKS I’M FUNNY! I AM SOOO FUNNY RIGHT NOW!!” And then, of course, I completely lost my place and bumbled around like a fool through the rest of the interview with one part of me desperately wanting it to be over, and the other wanting it to never end.

However, despite my ridiculous behavior I got a great interview from him and he gave me a sweet hug goodbye. (I KNOW!!! I. JUST. DIED.) And that was it. He was gone. And the color faded just ever so slightly from the world around me.

But this is a travel blog, not a homage to my love for Henry Cavill, so here is the travel stuff. A little outside of Dublin, The Tudors shot their outdoor scenes in the countryside, and if you’ve never seen the Irish countryside, you are truly missing out.

This is what it looks like with men on horses galloping around on it.