How to Live Out of a Suitcase

And a special summer cheese to explore!

Last year, I gave in to my restlessness. I whittled down what I own to some clothes, a stack of books, and my collection of cheese knives. And I traded in a three-bedroom row house for a single room with a bed, a desk, and a tall window overlooking a vegetable garden. I’ve been living like a nun for a year — renting from a friend in Philadelphia, and feeling very light.

It’s not the life most people picture when they imagine deep adulthood. But I’ve never been sold on adulthood. I need freedom more than furniture, and I crave adventure more than abundance. So, I’ve embraced living as I did in grad school, in a rambling house with two housemates — Pete (a baker) and Zach (a brewer) — and a colorful kitchen where we share meals and music and long conversations over cheese and drinks at night.

What I’ve lost in terms of personal space, I’ve gained in peace of mind. Life feels wide open, like a camera lens with a new aperture. When I wake up, I feel the sun streaming across my toes. I see my atlas of French cheeses on the floor by my bed and my suitcase by the door, and I feel what I can only describe as unbridled joy. Today, I’m off on 4-month cheese expedition, so I’ve trimmed my belongings down once again to fit them into a backpack and carry-on.

Here's how to live out of a suitcase:

1.     Don’t buy new clothes for a long trip. Pack old clothes you’re comfortable wearing, and replace them as you travel. If you need a sweater along the way, use this as an excuse to peruse vintage shops, or splurge on one really nice item as a forever souvenir. When your suitcase becomes too full to close, make like a caterpillar and shed your jean jacket or summer tees on a park bench.

2.     Seven pairs of socks, seven pairs of underwear.

3.     Two pairs of shoes (for me: waterproof boots, sandals). Pick up a pair of sneakers when you land – whatever the locals wear. That way you won’t stand out as an American tourist. Yes, yes, you may suffer blisters, but just double up on thin socks.

4.     Skip a jacket unless it’s winter, and wear a long sweater on the plane. Later, this can double as a coat or bathrobe.

5.     Always carry a book of poetry. I recommend Rumi, perfect to read each morning over breakfast, or in a café, or in a train station.

6. After living out of a suitcase for nearly a year once, I’ve developed a personal system to keeping a suitcase organized. On one side, I pack everything I wear above the waist. On the other side, everything that goes below. Essential items, like socks, go close to the top.

Want to know something funny?

I'm telling you things I never intended to tell you. I sat down to share a packing list for a cheese adventure and to recommend that you spend the summer exploring robiola, a lush soft cheese that looks like a mouse pillow. Sharing such personal details about my life feels strange, and yet that's what came out onto the page. Perhaps this is the allure of newsletters -- for writers..and for readers? They're so much more spacious than social media posts (or suitcases), so it feels luxurious to me to sit down to a whole blank page!

What would you like to read here? Personal musings, or shall we just stick to cheese? Bend my ear.

Speaking of which...robiola

If you need a cheese equivalent to a small private island, a cheese that will make you forget ordinary life, row row row your boat over to robiola. From Northern Italy, she has a creamy center and a veil-thin rind. I think robiolas are some of the best soft cheeses you can get from Europe in the U.S.; they are superior to the many gummy Bries made for the American market.

If you’re at a cheese counter, ask for robiola by name. She is a style of Italian cheese, usually made from a mix of milks. Two of my favorites: Robiola Bosina and Lat Tur.

Pair robiola with bubbly or a light Italian white. Add fresh fruit. Play some vintage Italian (try Carla Boni), and close your eyes. You’re almost in Italy.

Where I’m headed:

Belgium, France (to co-host two Cheese Journeys), Luxembourg (to eat at Oio), Italy (for the Cheese Festival in Bra)

My last cheese encounter:

Perrystead Dairy’s Moonrise & a glass of Saint Hilaire Brut (a favorite of my housemate Zach), for a late-night toast with my housemates, followed by spoonfuls of Zsa’s lemon-buttermilk ice cream

What I’ll be reading on the plane:

Milkfed — to catch up on an inaugural meeting of the Milkmaids

Wiser Than Me - Julia Louis-Dreyfus interviews author Isabel Allende

And finally, merci!

Thanks so much for signing up for these dispatches. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that so many of you subscribed.

xo

M.F.

P.S. None of the links in this post are paid ads. These are all personal recommendations.