This Is Italy, Nothing Is Fast (and) Cashmere Scarf, Muddy Forest… Anyone Else See A Problem Here?

Date: January 26, 2009

I am sad because I have yet to receive any mail from my pen pals, and as I was talking to Alice about this she said it would most likely be best if I told all my friends while I am in Italy, do not expect my letters to arrive in anything remotely resembling a timely fashion. I really hope they do not think I have given up on them. I just do not understand the Italians in this respect. I understand not working so many hours in a day, and taking time to enjoy life, but this does not excuse laziness. Why cannot you work hard while you work, and still enjoy life? This is not so difficult. Most people think of Italians as leading a slow life, purposefully, and taking time to enjoy simple pleasures. What it really amounts to is a nation of people who do not go to bed until midnight or one, who sleep late, do not go to church on Sundays, and who cannot get any work done out of sheer laziness. These people need to get on the ball. Take my furnace for example. Every night it turns on at a different time (oh yeah, you thought you could control the heat in your own house? I do not think so! This is government regulated baby!). Last night I went to bed close to midnight, and the thing was ice cold, tonight I came in at nine and it was blowin’ and goin’. What it amounts to is, if the man who is suppose to turn on your heat decides he is going out with his buddies, or taking a cigarette break before work has even started, you are stuck waiting on him for heat. It is crazy to me how people accept this kind of treatment. I mean, a man has the right to turn on the heat in his own home if he wants too!
I have been cold almost every day. Jason, even though it is below freezing there, I would rather it be colder here and at least be snowing, but all this rain and humid, bone-chilling cold is too much.
Today I woke up at nine-why can no one invent felt covered Legos?-and rolled out of bed. It is slowly becoming easier and easier to get myself up in the mornings, but I still feel like I am not getting enough sleep. I threw on some clothes, ate a little breakfast, and got ready to go to Arezzo for the day. However, it turns out Alice and her friend decided to meet tomorrow, and so we were to go to Castiglion Fiorentino after Elia’s nap to look for some warm house shoes, and some galoshes. I also told Alice I wanted a winter hat and maybe one or two plants for my room (maybe they will make it a little more cheery). It rained hard all day long. The contents of the fridge have been dwindling, and today, for both lunch and dinner, we ate leftover antipasti from the restaurant. I wonder when we will go back to the store. I have a little list going of things I need as well, so I hope it will be soon. Lunch was uneventful. Elia did learn, however, how to get more attention from Alice by pouring all of his water into the cup part of his plastic bib. At first I thought these little bibs were great, they caught the food your baby does not get in his mouth, and there is not as much of a mess to clean up. Now he knows he can just let food slide out his mouth like some sort of avalanche into this little safety net, and to make things worse he now adds water to the mix. And, if you think it could not get any grosser, you are wrong; he likes to play with the spongy food and water by dipping his hands in the little trough. Gross, but he has been doing a lot of bad things lately to get Alice’s attention. I just do not pay much attention to him anymore, when I am not helping Alice, or talking to mom, I am doing my own thing, and leaving Elia to annoy his mother and not me. Maybe once it stops raining I will take him for a walk in the mornings or afternoons so Alice can have a little time off. But, knowing Alice, she would just want to tag along.
After Elia’s nap we put on our coats and were off to Amanda’s, Alice’s sister-in-law, house. I had thought we were going to drop Elia off while we went into Castiglion to buy the things I was looking for; however, most of the time I am confused about what we are doing, so when I ended up being dead wrong, well, it was no surprise to me. Amanda is a native Texan who has lived in Italy for over 15 years. She and her husband had recently bought a home in Castiglion Fiorentino, but because they were having it renovated, they had to move into a rent house. She had asked her friend Debbie to come to Italy from College Station to help her with the move. Debbie was funny, but very obviously exhausted. She told me all they had done since she arrived was move. When I met her, she was scheduled to fly out of Rome at nine the next morning, and consequently, would be on the 4am train. Who knew the trains even ran that early in Italy?! (Of course, they are all automated so I guess it is not so much of a shock)We ended up staying at Amanda’s house for an hour and a half while Elia played with his cousin Ross. Ross is a very sweet boy, three years old, who speaks in both English and Italian fluently. It was so odd to watch Elia interact with him. Ross is a sweet kid, not really very sharing, but always trying to capture Elia’s interest. I came to realize how different Italian parenting must be when Ross, who was playing with a toy helicopter, caught Elia’s attention. Suddenly, Elia wanted the toy NOW. He tried to snatch it from Ross’ hands, and when Ross would not relinquish it, he cried and went to his mother, tugging at her hand and pointing at Ross. Knowing what he wanted, she reached over to Ross and took the toy from his hand and gave it to Elia. Keep in mind all this happened in front of Amanda, and she said nothing. Maybe this is just okay in the Italian culture, or Amanda knows how Alice likes to parent and just does not want to publicly reprimand her. I cannot think of a single American mother who would think it okay for another mother to take a toy out of her child’s hands to give to their own. Still, I guess you have to be a different kind of American to be willing to live, even give birth, in a foreign country. I thought Debbie, Amanda’s friend, was nice, but as we were driving home I realized she had reprimanded me during our conversation. This happens to me a lot I think, people try to stick up their nose to me and somehow, I just miss it. Anyway, we had been talking about something in Alice’s house, and Debbie commented on how strange it sounded to call (Ah-Lee-shay) (Al-is). “OH” I said to her, “I guess I just switch the pronunciation when I talk about her in English, and when I talk to her in Italian. It’s all the same I guess.” “Well,” she said “not to her I guess. I never understood why people change names, like Firenze, how did people start calling it Florence? I mean, I guess I could understand if we said it in some messed up Italian form, but a whole different word?” “Well,” I told her “when I first heard about Alice, Vanessa wrote her name in an email, and I did not even think to try and pronounce it in Italian. I just read it and saw ‘Alice’. Then when I met her, Vanessa made a point to tell me her name is (A-lee-shay). I guess it is just habit to switch back and forth.” “Well, I guess I can see how that could be confusing, just having read it in an email.” That was the end of the conversation, and I did think about it more, and honestly, I just do not see the problem. I mean, if my name were Mary, everyone here would be calling me Maria. Alice has never taken offense to me using the American form of her name, and more to the point, I never use the American form of her name when I am speaking to her, so what is the big deal? People just wanting to prance around town on their high horse I guess.
After our visit ended, Alice quickly pulled into a discount shoe store, think DSW but on a much much smaller level with no atmosphere and not as good of a selection, where I bought some plain black galoshes, and some house shoes, which are one size too small, but still fit my feet ok. There were plenty other house shoes to choose from, but these were the only ones that were like actual shoes, all the others were just slippers, and I knew they would not keep my feet warm, so I picked the smaller pair, and was on my way. It cost me 30 Euros for both. It was almost completely dark when we first arrived at Amanda’s so now it was pitch black. At this point, after I had bought my shoes, I knew we would not be buying any plants or a hat today. This is the essence of the Italian way. In America, if you had a foreigner who said, well I would like to buy this and this and so and so, then we would immediately hop in the car and take them to buy everything they wanted that day. In Italy, maybe, with the help of God, your family will take you to buy some of the things you want, and then tomorrow, maybe you will go out or maybe not. How they decide what they will and will not do is completely a mystery to me.
Tomorrow, however, we are going to Arezzo and I am hoping, really hoping Alice will take me to buy a hat, a plant or two, and maybe she can show me some little shop where I can get some hand lotion. My hands are becoming so dry, the skin on the fingertips is snagging on my clothes.




Date January 27, 2009

First of all, let me apologize. I know I did not make a new post yesterday, and so I am doing a double post today, and you will need to start towards the end of this post to read the post I meant for yesterday.
Why is it that whenever you get what you wish for, it is almost never a blessing? This morning I woke up at 915 to a belligerent phone. Twice someone called and the phone just rang and rang. This of course woke me up. As I was rolling over to go back to sleep it suddenly occurred to me I did not hear anyone else in the house. Then I started worrying, ‘Perhaps Alice and Elia have gone out to the store or something and she has forgotten her key and they are trying to wake me up’ (keep in mind I never ever answer the telephone). So, I got up and tip toed downstairs. Everything was still closed and dark, Alice’s door was closed, as was Elia’s, I checked outside to see if Alice’s car was there-it was-, and so I crept back up to bed. By then though, I could not fall back asleep, so I just lay awake waiting to hear some movement, hoping that I was not missing some important bit of information. Sure enough, Alice got up around 1030, and proceeded to wake up Elia. Who could have imagined, I, the person complaining about the noise every morning, could not sleep for the silence!
Anyway, breakfast was late this morning, around 11am. Then Alice planned to take Elia to see his grandparents, Alfonso’s parents. She asked me if I wanted to go, but said I could stay at the house if I wanted. Wanting some time to myself, and time to enjoy the sun which was out in full force, I opted out. They were gone in about fifteen minutes, and I was left to myself. I made up my bed, reorganized my desk, and generally just took in a peaceful quiet morning. I pulled on some clothes, my jacket, my scarf, snagged my camera, and was out the door. I did end up wearing my new galoshes today, I knew walking around the park was still going to be very muddy, and they worked great. I did have to roll down the legs-my calves are just too big for the top of the boot-but it did not turn out to be a problem. I was ready to rock and roll. I stepped outside, for the first time in days, and found Luna sitting by the door, as if she were waiting for me. Together we walked through the park and found a trail leading to the top of Monte Lingnano. I only hiked up the trail for 40 minutes before I decided to turn back to the house for lunch. Still, the whole time I followed Luna, my guide –she seemed to know exactly where she was going –and I got out of the house on my own for a while. About half way through my walk, the road started disappearing in the mud. I slipped several times, and by the third time I realized it was probably not a good idea to have worn my nice Italian cashmere scarf, my Ray Bans, AND my two thousand dollar camera! Next time I will know to only wear the things I can get dirty, and to take my camera along with me in its bag so I have both hands free. I was really amazed as I was walking. I was so far away from everything else the wind had its own sound. I can see now how the Indians crept around the soft forest ground without making any noise. Sometimes, the silence is just so loud in your head, that’s all you can hear. I turned back, wanting to be on time for lunch, calling for Luna to come along. She was not having any part of it, and kept going on her own way. Going back without her was a little more scary. I was just about to stop to make sure I was still on the right path, half of the trail had been lost in the mud, so my hiking consisted of trying to walk at an incline on the muddy mountain, when Luna came bursting from behind me. She ran until she was a little distance ahead of me, and I followed her. I guess I lost my faith in her right before we reached the park because when I saw her standing under this fallen tree, I knew instantly it was the wrong way to go. It was not the path I had taken to get up the mountain. I tried calling her back to me, but she just stood there, wanting me to follow. I was worried about getting lost, and decided to not follow her, but go by the trail back to the house. Luna never caught up with me. By the time I got back to the house, Alice and Elia had just arrived, and low and behold, Luna was laying on the ground by the car, chewing on some old bone like she had been lounging there for hours. I was amazed she had made it back before I did, and I now know I will not question her judgment again. Clearly she knows the area better than I do.
Lunch consisted of the great American delicacy, hamburgers. In Italy however, when you cook hamburgers, there is no burger, just the ham. Alice cooked up plain hamburger patties, made cooked carrots and cauliflower, and that was it. She did have mayonnaise, mustard, and ketchup to put on the patties, but you can forget about cheese, bread, lettuce, tomato, onion. It was so strange to me, but I ate two patties, and thanked her for the meal. Oddly enough, she will not let Elia eat anything remotely spicy. She does not even cook with any pepper. He really wanted ketchup and mustard, but she said she did not want him to eat anything too spicy because she was worried it might mess with his digestion. So, Elia only ate mayo on his patty.
After Elia’s nap we were all packed up and ready to go to Alice’s friend’s house. She just had a baby girl (20 days old), and Alice had stopped by to give her a gift. A quick stop, to an Italian woman is generally about an hour and a half long, and as it was late in the evening, this was a “quick stop”. The moment I stepped into this woman’s house I was amazed. Her house was clearly newer and nicer. Certainly I did not see any corners of dust, or varmints running around. The floors were off white tile, the windows were much nicer than Alice’s, and seemingly somewhat more energy efficient. She offered us a coffee, the typical gesture for anyone entertaining guests, and of course Alice and I both said we would like a cup. Now, Alice and Alfonso drink strong espresso, but with a little sugar and cream it is fine. Their coffee is so strong (when I say coffee I mean espresso) it tastes bitterer than anything else. Well, Alice and Alfonso do not hold a candle to this woman. The espresso she handed me only filled about a fourth of the espresso cup, and was like tar it was so bitter. I put more sugar in it, hoping to mask the flavor, but all that seemed to do was intensify it. In the end I just had to slam it. There was no way I was going to sip on it and finish while it was still warm. Aside from the assaulting espresso, the woman, and her husband were very nice. They did not talk to me too much, but the grandmother asked me how things were going in the USA what with Obama haven taken office, and I told her we will see. I talked to her a little, and told her the popular vote for president had been very close, almost half and half, so it had been a very crazy election. People all over the world seem to think he is the second coming, and I cannot help but wonder. People put on such a high pedestal can never stay balanced there for long, and I wonder how he will end up falling from grace. No one can stand so high for long.
When we arrived back at the house it was already dark. Alfonso was already home, so quickly Alice made her way into the kitchen and began throwing something together (Alfonso never cooks). She put together another amazingly simple pasta dish, which I will be posting at the end of this entry, and it also tasted wonderful. By the time we were done, there was no more pasta left in the bowl. Somehow, American cooking became the subject at the dinner table. Before I knew it, Alice and Alfonso were asking me to cook something American for them for dinner tomorrow night. I had told them both I was no cook, but still they asked me to cook for them. So, I called mom trying to think of things which I could cook well without a lot of stress, and we came up with a few dishes for me to try. I think it is a little odd they want me, a person who does not really cook, to cook something American for them. Plus everything is even harder hear than it is at home because Alice, as you know, does not like to have modern equipment in her kitchen, and to pull out something like chicken fried steak, requires a lot of work, and at the very least, a skillet. Well, maybe it will all work out okay. Mom had mentioned the idea of me making a pineapple upside down cake (be still my beating heart), but again, Alice does not have a skillet so I would have to figure out some other way to make one.
Oh, and here is one little funny tidbit: Here, they call ‘corn’ mais, pronounced “mice”, when Alice was looking through her pantry for something to cook for dinner on evening, she looked at me and said, ‘maybe we could eat mice…’. My shocked face must have stopped her. She could not figure out what I was so upset about. I said “Mice? Like the little animals that eat cheese?” She started laughing uncontrollably. “No, no, no” she said “Mais, then she picked up a jar of corn, showing me what she meant. I was relieved and told her “Oh my, I thought you meant mice, like ‘topolino’”. She started laughing uncontrollably, and now she ever makes an effort to say ‘corn’ to me, or cannot stop herself from laughing when she says ‘mais’.
We are making a trip to the grocery store tomorrow-finally some hand cream!!- so I will let you know how the dinner works out tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Here is the recipe:

Fusilli Pasta with Crushed Tomatoes and Olive Oil

Fusilli Pasta (you judge how much you want by how many are eating. Maybe two cups dry for three people)

20 (give or take) small tomatoes (I think they are called cherry tomatoes, they are small and oblong in shape)

1/2 cup of Olive Oil

2 cloves garlic (minced)

Salt

Alice used a wok looking dish to make this sauce, one, becuase it would hold both the pasta and the sauce, and two, because it helped make the sauce more concentrated. However, if you do not have a wok, a large sautee pan should do fine.

Heat the oil to medium high to high heat. Next add the salt and garlic, and finally the tomatoes. Let the tomatoes cook as they are for about four or five minutes, then begin crushing them, either with a fork or a wooden spoon. You should crush them all, but leave enough large bits of tomato so the sauce is a little chunky. Heat the pasta water, add plenty of salt to the water, and cook the pasta as instructed on the box. After finished cooking, drain the pasta (no need to shake out all of the excess water) and dump the hot pasta into your sautee pan. Leave the heat on and toss the pasta and sauce for about a minute or two. Then turn off the heat, add about a fourth a cup of Parmesean cheese, and toss. Sprinkle the top with a little more cheese and serve. The sauce will look thin, but the tomatoes give the oil a great flavor and you should have a very tasty dish. If you think you are running out of oil, simply add some more, along with a few more tomatoes. You cannot really cook this sauce too long, but all in all, I think Alice only cooked her's for 15, give or take, minutes. You do not want to fry your tomatoes, only cook and crush so they will release that nice acid taste.

Hope you enjoy!!