30 November 2006

Vin Brule almost makes up for there being no hot apple cider.

I was sad that I missed Christmas village with my mom (at least for her, she got to go with her sister, and I heard they had a splendid time,) and now, I don't even have to be sad because the German Christmas market has arrived in Piazza Santa Croce bearing treats of all kinds, including, but not limited to the following:

Bratwurst and Saurkraut (I can't spell German.)
Brezel (aka. Pretzels, which are incredible)
sausages and salamis
ornaments
gloves and hats
potpouri and candles
jewelry
befana dolls
vin brule (delicious)
dutch cheese
goolash (again, Italian I can do, German, not so much)
German and Austrian cookies
pretty much all things that smell heavenly

Apparently there's a Scottish Christmas market that opens next week in Santa Maria Novella and an ice skating rink in some piazza I don't know how to get to but will find.

Oh how I love the holidays.

28 November 2006

Mercato San Ambrogia and the shortest lady I've ever seen

As the days pass by and I have begun to realize how little time I actually have left here I don't want to leave. (I will leave though, Dad; I miss you way too much to stay.) This has been the most incredible experience of my life thus far - hands down.

Actually one of the things I will probably miss most is having mornings exactly like this morning:

I don't have class on Tuesdays, so I slept in a bit and then got up and headed to my favorite cafè where I had a capuccino and a paste con cioccolato and wrote in my journal and read my Bible. Just so you know, for future reference, this is practically (a word my bookbinding teacher can't get enough of - and which, when she uses it, means precisely) the best way to begin a day. My favorite cafè is just 10 or so meters from the San Ambrogia market where you can buy fresh veggies and clothing articles and housewares and, if your brave, a whole dead and skinned rabbit, head and all. I didn't get a rabbit, as I'm not brave when it comes to dead creatures, but I did get some veggies and such to make dinner this evening. I browsed around the market, attempting to listen in on conversations, and then strolled down the road a bit to Bacco di Nudo, the enoteca where I get my wine, except next door they have another store that doesn't sell wine, but jams and pasta sauces and olive oil. Here is where the shortest woman in the world works. I'm not even lying. So, I walked in (actually I've met her before, but I didn't realize it then) and she gets up from her chair behind the counter and comes over to me to tell me (for she speaks English very well) about every single sauce and jelly in the store, and no joke, she comes up to my waist. She was short. Very short. She went on and on and on about each and everyone of those "prodotti tipici" that I though I would never get out of there, but I did by this Balsamic vinegar cream that she said to try in yogurt. I plan to do that this evening if I make it to the supermercato or if the bakery I usually go to sells yogurt. I'll let you know how it tastes, but the cream is spectacular. I had it on some bread for lunch.

Allora, sorry to bore you with the everyday happenings of my Tuesday morning, but I felt the need for a post and well, this is the real Italian life, not all that other travel stuff. This is the kind of thing that makes me want to stay.

23 November 2006

"Do all turkeys have feathers or just Italian ones?"

(the above title was the cause of much laughter at borgo allegri 24 yesterday evening.)

So, I don't have time for much of a post as I have to get home to cook a turkey and pumpkin pie and stuffing and make sweet tea. My roommates and some of the girls from my cooking class are coming over this evening for traditional homecooked Thanksgiving dinner. I'm so excited, but I'm not going to lie - today is a little depressing knowing that my family is at grandma and papa's house having dinner together, eating turkey and drinking sweet tea and probably not having pumpkin pie, because that's always my job.

I hope all of you Dentons and Vaughns and Harrells and Carrolls know how much I am missing you right now! Have fun playing Catch Phrase and making Christmas lists and taking naps and scanning the shopping flyers without me, and hopefully I'll be talking to you or will have by the time you all read this. I love all of you so much!!

Buon Giorno della tacchino! (Happy Turkey Day!)

P.S. Just so there is no confusion - they don't celebrate Thanksgiving in Italy, (shocking, I know) and I had to go to class today. Boo.

20 November 2006

I live in Italy...for 25 more days.

Man, it both seems like I've been here forever and like I've just arrived. One second I'm going crazy missing people and the next I don't want to leave. I'm sure I'll be ready to go when the time comes, but I also know I'll be ready to come back soon after getting there. I'm going to miss this place and the newness to everything. There is this refreshing feeling that comes with the unfamiliarity of life in a foreign land. I wish there were a way to recreate such a feeling in a familiar place like home. I guess that's why they say you experience reverse culture shock upon return; they also say it's worse than the original case of culture shock. I believe it.

Okay, so moving on past the inner thoughts of me:

On Saturday I went to Venice,
and
On Sunday I went to an Olive Press.

I had a supremely successful weekend.

Venice was. . . grand. Yes, that word will do; it was grand. I mean, the place has no cars. In fact, it has no streets, at least not the kind of streets we have. We (my roommate, Amber, and I) stepped out of the train station and suddenly we were standing only meters from the Grand Canal. So, we hopped a Vaporatto (which is like a bus, but it's a boat, so it's a bus/boat), and we headed down the canal to Piazza San Marco. I'm not even kidding; I've never seen a place like it. It was grand. (And here I need to put in a slight apology to one fantastic mother of mine - you would have just loved Venice. Mi dispiace.)

There's not really much else to say about Venice. We only got lost once, and Murano glass is sweet. That'll do.

The olive press was also quite grand, though intriguingly amazing might be a better description. The trip I went on actually included a two hour hike through Fiesole to get to the Olive Press, which I didn't know about, but which turned out to be pretty awesome all on its own. The rainy season is trying to actually begin, and so, from the hills of Fiesole we could see a light fog hanging over Florence. Incredible.

After a strenuous, mostly uphill, hike, we sat down for lunch at this fattoria above the olive press. I had agnello (lamb), which was delicious. The Olive Press tour would be better explained with pictures so I'll just put a link to the fotos on here once I get them uploaded, and I'll put explanations under each foto telling what the stuff is. And then, when I get home, I'll give everyone a lesson in buying good olive oil.

Fotos and Explanations.

Probably the best thing about yesterday (maybe even better than the fact that I toured an olive press) was that I spoke Italian for probably half the day. I made two foreign friends who I had the opportunity to speak to during the hike. The first was actually a girl from Germany who is working as a aupair for an Italian family. The second was a guy who lives in Florence. He was great because, though he obviously spoke fluent Italian, he spoke slowly for me and repeated himself when needed, but didn't get frustrated when it took me and minute to comprehend. Josefina and Armondo. An olive press. A nice hike on a foggy day. Un bel tramonto. The perfect Sunday.

14 November 2006

Canolis, Volcanoes, and the Mafia

Man, where the heck do I begin? Sicily. Sicily is an island of the coast of the boot of Italy forever away from Florence. So forever away in fact, that one must ride an overnight train to get there, which means that one's first day in Sicily is spent rather smelly and unshowered and minus some bits of necessary sleep, but these things are far overrun by the fact that one is in Sicily and closer to Africa than one has ever been (unless you're Kendra Jo Crabtree that is), and therefore one does not care about being smelly and tired and one eats a delicious canoli and an arancini for lunch and then it's all okay. I'll start there.

So, this past weekend I went to Sicily. We met Thursday night at the Campo di Marte train station in Florence where we got on overnight trains with beds and sinks in your cabin/carraige/room. The train ride was in the least...interesting. I slept on the top bunk of a moving thing that rocked back and forth and occasionally made quick stops that made things tople over (including me). It wasn't so bad though, and I mean now I can say I slept on a train...twice in fact. When I woke up the next morning I washed me face in this awkward sink behind the ladder and then went into the hall to find out that I was just in time for the train to board the ferry. No joke. The train boarded the ferry at the tip of the boot of Italy and took us across to Sicily. Once the train was securely on the ferry we could actually get off and go up. Then, when we got to the other side they put the train back together and we went on our way. I want to meet the person who woke up one day and said, "why don't we just put trains of ferries and take then across the sea."

So, then we made it finally and hopped on our bus and began to see the island. The first day we visited Taormina and then this beach which I believe they said was in Catania. In Taormina we had real Sicilian Canolis! Fantastic! First thing I'm doing when I get home is making Canolis for people (well, after showering and a good night's sleep). I love canolis, which is why I'm so glad we learned how to make them in cooking class. I also ate this fried rice contraption thing called Arancini for lunch. The canoli was better, but when in Sicily you must eat Sicilian things, and I efficiently played by this rule.

The beach we went to was fantastic as well. I walked out on this getty of rocks and sat and watched the sun begin to set behing the shore. Oh my word, I am speechless.

The next day we spent the whole day walking around Siracusa. We began with Greek ruins, went through the Roman invasion, and then discovered the early Christian's hideout underground. Somewhere in all that history lesson we visited the market in Siracusa where I ate cactus fruit. (I should make a list of all the crazy things I've eaten since I've been in Italy.) Hmmm, oh and then I ate another canoli and some delicious pasta (not in that order). Then we toured the natural harbor of Siracusa, and then had hot chocolate, and I bought Crema di Fragola and some post cards.

I promise, it was much more exciting than I just made it sound. Cactus fruit is something pretty exciting all by itself, and if you'd seen the sun glistening on the water off that natural harbor you wouldn't have listened to the whole of the history lesson either (I listened to most of it, but I had to take some fotos too.)


Almost done... forse.

The last day I woke up kind of sick, which was rather unfortunate as I haven't been sick for real in so long. But, I dealt, and we went to Noto where we saw lots of men out wandering the streets looking rather mafia like wearing their traditional Sicilian hats. (There were not many woman out though, and according to our guide there is a lot of Arab influence in deep Sicily where Noto is located and therefore all the women were inside keeping house.) Then (and I just decided I hate the word then as a transition - it's so overdone). Following Noto, we adventured to another beach where I laid down in the sand in an attempt to not feel sick anymore. It only kind of worked. We tried to eat lunch down the street from the beach, but that was a disaster I don't want to relive, but luckily our bus didn't leave us, and we did get to go see the Castle near where the supposed Cyclops lived. There are even these two rocks out in the sea named after Ulysseus. We saw the sunset from here as well - positively gorgeous. Again, no words.

So, you'd think the real adventure stops here, but no. We got back onto another night train and were heading back to another giant ferry that carries trains (seriously - incredible) when our chain-smoking guide, Francesco Sommariva comes by and tells us if we look out the window we can see Mt. Etna erupting. Mt. Etna erupting. I saw a live volcano. Really all you could see was pink streaks in the sky, which was molten lava flowing down the mountain, but it was so amazing. I attempted to take a picture and it only kind of worked because we were on a moving train, and it was pitch black outside other than streets lights and the pink streaks in the sky, but anywho.


Eventually we made it back to Florence, and after I slept for many many hours last night, I don't feel sick anymore and have to register in an hour.

And, that was my adventure to Sicily.

I also went Olive Picking last Thursday which I don't feel like writing about right now, but I will give more substantial time to at a later date - perhaps after I go to the olive press which may happen this Sunday.

List of things I did this weekend I'd never done before looks like this:
1. went olive picking
2. ate cactus fruit
3. rode a night train
4. rode a train on ferry
5. got really really close to Africa
6. stood in the Mediterranean Sea
7. ate take-away mussels (not a good idea, ever)
8. saw an active volcano

07 November 2006

Why Don't They Have Cheddar Cheese In Italy?

Lately I've been realizing some of the things I miss from the states... so, I've decided to compile a list. Probably not exactly the best thing to make me miss them less, but at least you can now appreciate the following things a little more knowing some people (i.e. me) live without them on a daily basis.

Cheddar Cheese
SVU and tv in English in general
Target and supermarkets that are really super
Milk that tastes good by itself
Sheep blankets
My car
Grass
Microwaves
Frozen Chicken
Dryers
The smell of fresh laundry
To Go Cups
Self Check out lines
Stars
Mexican Food
The US Dollar
Carpet
Peppermint Hot Chocolate from Bongo Java
Small White Monkeys
Card games
Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough
My mom's cooking
Haircuts
Sweet Tea
The South

...and next time I'm in a similar mood I'll compile a list of things I shall miss about here when I am there.

04 November 2006

Just Follow the Duck

So, tonight as I was walking home I saw this lady carrying an umbrella with a duck handle; she was holding it up in the air to lead her tour group, and I had the urge to follow the duck, but I refrained and instead ran home so my toes wouldn't freeze into ice cubes.

I think the temperature dropped at least 15 degrees celsius just in the last three days. I'm not even lying. I haven't warmed up since it first got cold, but last night I did discover how to turn on the heat in my apartment, and then I curled up under the covers and slept all warm and cozy. So, I suppose I have warmed up...once...last night.

Perhaps you are wondering what was the reason I braved the cold this evening and almost lost my toes. Well, it was a pretty darn good reason. Today, 4 novembre 2006 is the 40th anniversary of the flood in Florence, and during a quick read of
The Florentine I discovered that this evening at 19:00 they were going to illuminate the Arno River at Ponte Vecchio. So, I went, cameras in gloved hands, wearing two pairs of socks and four layers.


Aside from the frigid temperatures the days lately have been just about perfect. Not even in terms of weather, but also in terms of my lazy activity. Wednesday we had no class, and I thought I was going to get to go olive picking, but alas, the olives just weren't ripe. So, I slept in and went to my cafe instead. Then I decided to go walking leisurely about the city. I came to the San Lorenzo market and browsed the many stalls (since they were actually open) and ended up buying a hat. The people selling them were really nice, and I ended up having a conversation with an American lady who knew the guy who makes the hats. Then this other lady who was working at the stall too started helping me pick out the hat. It was just an adventure of sorts walking through the market on a cold afternoon buying a brown fuzzy hat.

I wore the brown fuzzy hat yesterday morning on the way to Lucca until the sun had been up long enough that I didn't need it anymore. Lucca I liked...about as much as I like the brown fuzzy hat. It's a small town in Tuscany an hour and a half from Florence with its city wall still intact. There's even a moat. (And apparently a comics and games festival the first weekend of November). Just so you know, I crossed the moat, and I biked the entire city wall. And to top it off, my bike had a bell that sounded like the bell on a mailman bike. I'm not sure I've actually ever seen a mailman bike, but if I did, I'm sure the bell on it would sound exactly like the one on the bike I rode around the city wall of Lucca.

We finished the day out by eating bucceleta (I think that's what it was called) and drinking cioccolata calda. Then we rode the train home, and I bought soup at the Standa and watched
the Office with Laura.

I have no complaints, not even about the cold, because I have a blue pashmina and a brown fuzzy hat, and now I know how to turn on the heat in my apartment.

Positively splendid.