My life revolves around food. If I have any other passion I certainly don't reveal it to my friends. My Christmas presents this year, like many years before, were all cook books. My collection has swelled to well over 50 quality titles.

The recent additions include "Marcella says..." by Marcella Hazan; "Barefoot Contessa in Paris" by Ina Garten; "Louis Osteen's Charleston Cuisine" by Louis Osteen; "The Gourmet Cookbook" edited by Ruth Reichl, a magazine subscription to an ABC (Australian) publication "Delicious" and Maurizio Terzini's "Something Italian".

The latter book brought with it some Australian nostalgia. It was a gift from my parents in a care package that also included Italian coffee(!) and Australian chocolate cookies (Mint Slices and Tim Tams). The book is beautifully designed with the trademark food styling and photography Donna Hay pioneered in her cookbook series. It is also very Australian with such words as "daggy" in the copy and the emphasis on super fresh ingredients, sharp, strong flavors thrown together in a casual Mediterranean way.

What I was most excited to see in the book was the author, Maurizio Terzini. He started his restaurant career creating Cafe e' Cucina. A restaurant I worked in after I was tired of waiting tables at cafes and "restaurants" that had locations better than the food. I didn't work very long at Cafe e Cucina but I loved every minute of it. I learned so much from the experience and Maurizio's advice and style still stands out some 10 years later.

Here the staff and clientele called me Domenico in this lush wanting manor. The staff because they needed the help and loved the attention speaking Italian always got them. The clientele to show how global and sophisticated they were. Whatever the reason, it was truly one of the first times I felt the sexiness of my Italian heritage.

Cafe e Cucina also taught me a level of professional service I had been oblivious to receiving and giving. I was told quite sternly by the chef not to shake a plate of pasta, the pasta didn't need to reach the plate's edge as it did in my home. Maurizio also showed me how to professionally clear a table (something only the finest American restaurants understand) and serve an espresso -- with the teaspoon handle pointed toward the diner on the right hand side of the cup.

The whole experience was an awakening of senses, of possibilities and style. I would sit at the bar during a break in the dinner service to eat my staff meal -- a glass of red wine, any pasta off the board and great bread to wipe the dish clean. I think this experience fundamentally changed my expectations on what a restaurant meal could be. I search for this constantly and so few places deliver.

Today's Christmas dim sum meal couldn't be further from that enchanting experience -- long waits, large crowds, impersonal service, shared tables, harsh lighting and no ambience worth mentioning. The only saving grace is the food. It has extraordinary dim sum. So good it makes up for everything else.

This year's Christmas Eve was so much fun. Joe and I hosted a dinner party for 11 friends and family. Joe's parents were in from Louisville, Kentucky and we invited our friends Steven and Erik, Elliott and Shaun, Ami and our neighbor Ellen with her daughter Tamar.

It was the first time we got to extend our relatively new dining table out to its full 10 feet and dress it with our fine French linen tablecloth. Very fancy, formal and fun.

Low lighting, great food and plenty of good wine created an evening of conversation, laughter and sense of warmth the holiday's always promise but rarely deliver.

We had so much fun last year and received such positive feedback from friends and family that we decided the recital should be an annual event. So, once again on December 4th our living room was transformed into a recital hall.

The new arm chairs were removed to the back rooms. The sofa placed in the dining room along with the coffee table left the living room a stark echo chamber in which the piano's magnificent sounds reverberated.

Definitely part of the recital's fun is the build up to the actual event. The journey being as fun as the destination itself. Last year the journey was all about the process and logistics. Where will all the people sit? How do we start the evening? What wine should we serve? How much food will people eat? how much beer should we buy?

With our professional commitments and hectic Thanksgiving week the build up was much shorter and more intense than last year. We were old hats at this now. I knew where to rent chairs and what glasses we wanted. The alcohol purchase wasn't fought with anxiety and groceries were delivered straight to our door by FreshDirect. The journey the second time around was more about anticipating the evening itself. Who was coming? Who we could chat and catch up with? How would the personal interaction play out between the wide group of friends that were invited?

Some 55 people arrived and were thrilled to hear Joe play the piano and Arun the violin. We thought an annual recital would benefit from an expanded repertoire. While Joe's playing is accomplished and beautiful, a solo program year after year may wear thin with the same guests. This year Arun added the violin to Joe's piano. Next year we are thinking of having some talented friends sing and hanging others' visual are on the walls -- a salon of sorts.

With the musical portion of the evening completed, everyone retreated to the dining room for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Follow the more link below for the evening's menu. Michael (Arun's boyfriend) and I created the menu. Perhaps our only mistake was not preparing enough food. Most of it vanished within 45 minutes! 10 servings per person simply weren’t enough. I will have to remember this when I cater next year's party.

Judging by the speed at which food was consumed, there were definitely favorites. The meat balls to start. Once they the on the table a tight group of 6 people hovered over the tray until there were no more. The close circle around the meat balls and other guests trying to get a taste resembled a rugby scrum. Something good was in the middle and people weren't stopping until they were rewarded with a small moist ball of pork and chicken seasoned with parmesan, salt and pepper and fried golden brown.

My savory tarts are big hits as well. Based on last year's success, I made the tarts larger and stuck with Swiss chard and parmesan to the crowd's intense pleasure. I also stuck with the cupcake dessert theme. This year coconut cupcakes with coconut cream cheese frosting had guests licking their lips and fingers as if I laced the cakes with crack. In their rush to go to another December holiday party, some guests stole a second cupcake for the subway ride.

There is something intensely rewarding about making food that pleases people. Nothing makes me happier than special requests for one of my dishes. I suspect next year people will demand we host another recital where Joe plays and where I get an opportunity to cook my mother's meatballs and present my addictive "crack" cupcakes.

Check out the recital photos and a short video of the last movement (Quicktime format).

Phileas Fogg may have done it in 80 days but with jet travel Joe and I managed it in 21. Our itinary reads like a fancy dress shop's window -- New York, London, Paris, Tokyo, Kyoto, Hong Kong, Melbourne, Sydney, Los Angeles and then back home to New York.

It was nothing short of fabulous.

It doesn't seem like two days in each city is enough time to explore and poke around. But with a good concierge and the Internet we made the most of our short stays. Ruthless in some instances on what we would and wouldn't do. Another department store - negative. A new cuisine? Point us to it. Food almost always won out over any other activity.

We ate well, very well. In Paris we dined at the oldest restuarant in France, Tour D'Argent. A magnificant 2 star Michelin restaurant with views over the Siene and Notre-Dame. In Tokyo we found an adorable sake cum grill bar. The fact that no one spoke English didn't prevent us from trying several sublime sakes, excellent sashimi and wonderful tapas style dishes of grilled meats, foie gras and seafood. We toured the massive Tokyo fish market at 6 in the morning (no digital photos sorry). After which Joe ate noodles with the workers and I opted for sushi.

The concept of sushi at 7am in the morning is challenging. The only thing that enabled me to do it was the fact that the tiny tiny sushi bar we ate at was attached to the largest wholesale fresh fish market in the world. The place was packed solid and the fish literally melted in your mouth. We were even interviewed and photographed by a restaurant critic evaluating the scene.

Kyoto food only got better. Much more laid back than Tokyo and with an air of sophistication reminiscent of Aix-en-Provence. Breakfasts with Mrs Ishihara at her charming Ryokan were a sea of dishes containing grilled salmon, a rasher of bacon, a fried egg, bowl of rice, nori paper, miso soup and pickles. She would slide herself toward us over the tatami mat, pour our tea and instruct us how to eat the rice and nori together -- with chopstick in hand, you press the rice between a sheet of nori.

Perhaps the most intriuging meal was the Japanese-Chinese one. Not only was the dining room beautiful despite its austerity the bamboo garden added an essential Japanese ingredient, serentity. The food was delicious. The Chinese flavors definitely prominent in the dishes, but presented and served with typical Japanese flair.

Hong Kong was more casual for us. Fine dining was replaced with street food hawker style. Vietnamese noodles, grilled squid, and the like are quintessential HK experiences. Perhaps another reason for the light evening meals was the Mandarin Oriental's complimentary breakfast. A western buffet combined with Dim Sum served with perfect espresso! The Oriental was an amazing luxury and welcomed after only completing half our journey.

Back in my home town Melbourne, staying with my parents only meant good solid Italian fare. We cooked a few nights sharing our secret for perfect sauteed vegies and medium rare roast lamb. Joe also taught my mum how to make a cucumber salad and my mum taught Joe how to make an avocado salad.

Dinner at the Flower Drum was fun. Drinks at the Croft Institute an adventure. Regular visits to Jodi and Nick's Rathdowne Tavern made us favorites with the locals. Our meals at the Rathdowne Tavern were greater than the original restaurant reviews indicated. A re-interpreted steak and eggs made me very happy. The egg was gently poached and then quickly fried tempura style.

Meals continued. Sapore in Fitzroy with new friends was devine. Brunch in Albert Park with friend and their kids loads of fun. Tapas on Saturday night with old freinds wonderful. Home cooked dinners and discussion with more friends ever entertaining and of course the grand finale, an Italian BBQ bidding us farewell the night before our flight an extravaganza.

While the global economy can bring the world's products to your door, especially when you live in New York, there is yet no substitute for cuisine in its country of origin. And for that I love to travel.

The entire trip's photo album is posted here.

Check out the pictures of our vacation in France.

In all 5 couples (our friends Erik and Steven and some of their friends) spent a week frolicking along the Cote d'Azur during the day. In the evenings, tired and sun drenched, we retired to San Peyre, a beautiful mansion on the coast overlooking the Mediterranean. There we supped on local produce and sampled regional wines under the overhang of grape vines in the warmth of candle light. The evening breeze warm and gentle on our tanned skin only adding to our pleasure.

San Peyre, not simply a place, but a state of mind.