I've been thinking of the Day 14 prompt for far too long. Not because it's tough, but because I can't narrow it down. The question 'where is somewhere you'd like to travel?' is much easier to answer if I list the places I don't want to travel. I'm not obsessive about it (I think of that line in Eat, Pray, Love when Elizabeth Gilbert says she has a box filled with travel guides and pictures of foreign places rather than a box of baby clothes).

Ever since I was little I've dreamed of traveling, though rarely dreamed of traveling anywhere specific. It was more about the unknown for me; the thrill of discovery, of observing different lifestyles and tasting unique foods than a specific location on the map. I'm not a planner when it comes to travel. I'd rather set off with a general idea of where I am, where I shouldn't go and then just GO. Wander, linger, soak it all up and just be in the moment.  Touristy spots are alright, but off the beaten path is better. 

There's one exception to this, though, and that's Italy. For years I've wanted to travel to the countryside, stay in a cozy little place and learn how to cook authentic Italian fare. I dream of getting my hands doughy while rolling fresh pasta, savoring fruit right off the trees and spending evenings sipping wine and gazing at the sun as it sets over the flower dotted hillside. I want to wander the market, be dazzled by language I don't understand and fade into a corner to observe a slower, more deliberate and intense way of living.

So today I was almost giddy when I wandered into Borders to check out what they had left. In the Cooking Section I found this:

This, my friends, is porn for anyone who loves Italian food. The photos make me long to hop on a plane and leave my worries behind, and the recipes make me wish I had a VISA with no limit, a day at Trader Joes & Dean & DeLuca, and time to get lost in the kitchen. I don't know that I'll ever make a recipe from this book (something tells me that my kids would scoff at Turbot with Fennel), but it doesn't really matter. I didn't really buy it for the recipes; I bought it for the opportunity to escape. To look at the images long enough to *almost* feel like I'm there, and to read enough to live vicariously through him.  For now, that will have to sate my wanderlust. Until I can indulge in the real thing.