3inGiro

all you need is love: valentine craft

2012-02-11T15:30:00.000+01:00

Okay, really you'll need love, doilies, yarn, and basic craft supplies like markers, glue, and scissors. I just break out the scrapbook supplies left over from my ~~addictive~~ scrapping phase.

And don't forget the glitter...because if Valentine's Day isn't time for glitter, then I'm not sure when it might be.

It's a cheap and easy craft appropriate for most ages that looks lovely every time. I found the heart-shaped doilies in my PX: a package of 25 for $1. I had to refrain from buying all of them.

Let each family member decorate a couple of hearts to create one garland together or let each person make his or her own. No rules. My girl took it a step further and made a heart-shaped butterfly. She then proceeded to fly him around the room for twenty minutes while her friend and I worked.

In the end, each girl decorated ten hearts, making for a nice garland for each of them. I just weaved the yarn through the holes in the doilies and used a simple hole punch for the butterfly.

We made a much smaller version of this last year, too.

snow shadows before sunrise

2012-02-10T08:32:00.001+01:00

We are not being hammered with snow like the rest of the country; however, this morning we woke to discover a thin blanket of snow covering the paese. Sometimes, it pays to be among the first out in the morning. Have a great weekend :)

2012 projects

2012-02-08T14:28:00.000+01:00

I've taken on a few projects since the new year, and since I've managed to keep up with them so far, I thought I'd share.

The first two are in hopes of improving my photography.

366 in 2012 is my daily photo blog where I post a picture a day, usually on the day I take it, but not always. This stretches my photography by forcing me to take a photo Every. Single. Day. -- rain or shine, sun or clouds, happy or cranky, even when there is fog and rain. Since I'm usually limited to natural light loveliness that comes only when the mood hits me, this is quite a challenge. Um, and, I want to learn to rock my iPhone camera like Emily. I think mine is defective.

I've also joined a Flickr group: Clicky Project 52 / 2012. Weekly themes, photos posted in the group. Interesting people who are connected in one way or another. Feedback. Encouragement.

Some of the same pictures appear both here and in those places, but not all of them.

The third project is a goofy one called Italian Pizza Diaries. I can't help myself.

What are you doing in this new year?

40.

2012-02-05T08:42:00.000+01:00

Not long after Young One was born, Richard and I joined some friends for a fortieth birthday celebration at their home in Fusaro. I was 32 at the time; he was, ahem, older than me. We’d been to their house a few times before and had spent many times together with most of the people in attendance, but this particular party stands out in my memory. I was the youngest; with this group of friends, I was always the youngest, young enough to be the child of some. I think the strong lingering memory is the result of the combination of me settling into my role of new mom with an unpredictable newborn and the strong personalities of a couple of very different women.

In this overseas lifestyle, I find myself collecting quite an eclectic group of friends who come in and out of my life. I don’t mean the American verses Italian friends; even within those two very broad groups, the people I have connected with over time are often very different from one another. I think it’s an inherent part of being the outsider. For me, it has been an absolute blessing, even a life-changing aspect. I have a friend who is a retired college soccer coach turned sommelier and another friend who, along with her husband, just served two years in the Peace Corps in China, after retiring from over twenty years of teaching overseas. One friend led the union for years, while another is the lawyer who counsels management. I have a couple of conservative Texans that I hold dear to my heart, as well as a couple of liberal Californians; you know, the kind who visit chiropractors. Christian. Atheist. Straight. Gay. Young. Old. With teeth. Without. Liberal. Conservative. (Okay, not so many conservatives.) I’ve had friends die. I’ve seen babies born. I’ve seen ugly divorces. I know couples who couldn’t be more committed to each other. Teachers, farmers, engineers, stay-at-home moms, enlisted military members, designers, runners, lawyers, shop owners, artists, secretaries, and factory workers; they are a diverse group. Each contributes to the woman I am today, which is a bit different from that 29-year-old woman I was when I first arrived in Italy. I’m admittedly closer to some than to others, but this shared experience bonds us all.

My life before moving to Italy was not like this in any way; everyone was the same. And it was a “same” that I loved…still love, very much. There is comfort in sameness. South Louisiana sameness works for me. It helps define me. (Okay, so admittedly, I did tend to go against the grain a bit, even then…but I wasn’t very unique in the way I did that. Same.)

Back to the party.

I’m at this party, and the festeggiata is in the kitchen with her much-older, handsome husband, flitting about with her mid-drift exposed, reminiscing about her life, specifically what it feels like to be forty, which according to her, of course, is nothing less than fabulous. Knowing her, I am sure that twenty, thirty, (and, soon, fifty,) have been equally fabulous. And because of that, I quickly dismissed her words, attributing them to her denial of the aging process. She had had her babies when she was much younger, on the dirt floor of a hut in Greece (I don’t make this stuff up), and was now experiencing forty with a senior in high school, another son already in college, and a husband who adored her. I wanted to tell her, “Hey, Linda, you are 40. It’s all downhill from here, but that's okay. That's life. Embrace it. Quit fooling yourself. And go put some clothes on, for Pete’s sake. You are 40, not 19.” My smug, new mom, know-it-all, 32-year-old-self was not buying her line of “Fabulous at Forty.” Clearly she had issues. The wrinkles were showing on her perfectly tanned face, even if she still had a perfectly svelte and toned body.

And then another friend, who was approaching 60, chimed in things about “it” only getting better with time. “It,” I suppose can only mean that thing we call life. She, too, is a character who used to proudly share that she’s had the same red hair for at least 20 years; she would order red hair dye #34 and bring it from one beautician to another as she moved around the globe. That practice, by the way, stopped during her time in the rural village of China. She’s since gone grey and looks stunning. Funny how that works. It was she and her husband who threw a co-ed baby shower before the arrival of Young One, with all guests dressed in pink, this friend with abounding energy. She reminded me of Mrs. Roper, but smart and perpetually cheery, and her husband was no Stanley. She, too, spoke knowingly and proudly on this “Life at Forty and Beyond” theme that filled the kitchen. I’ve never met their only son because he had gone off to life in the States by the time we became friends, and we seemed to miss his visits. I have heard, a lot, about him, though; this year's Christmas letter revealed that he is now married and living in NYC, loving every minute of that. I was sure he was gay.

All of the friends I collected during those few years living in Naples have moved on to other things, other places. I keep in touch with some better than others. Their exploits continue to be quite diverse, just as the diversity of new people I have since befriended continues.

During this talk in the kitchen, the husbands remained silent during this flurry of conversation about forty. Smart, smart, men. Both of these couples had been married for at least twenty years by then. I don't think Richard and I were even married at this point, but he didn't say much either. Eventually the men moved out to the terrace to pursue manly things, leaving me alone with the women. Others hadn't yet arrived, so these two giant personalities dominated the space like a couple of Ya-Ya's in the Sisterhood, yakking it up, even if no one was indeed listening. I was.

I didn’t say much either. I just listened to both of them go on and on and on as they drank too much wine. My hormones were still a mess. My body was odd. This baby I was holding had her own mind about things. Richard was clueless…loving, but clueless. They truthfully began to annoy me. I didn't leave the room because the baby was finally content. I doubted that we would even be friends if we all lived in, say, Louisiana. Hello. I’m the new mom here. Hello. Baby in arms. Hello. I just accomplished the miracle. Hello. What could be more important in this room than me and my new baby. Don't you know that it's time to focus on me. Me. My Baby. Don't hate me because I'm only 32. You had your chance. Enough already with all crap about getting older being So. Damn. Good!

…………………………………

Self-portrait @ 40

Yet.

Here I am. And yes it is.

So. Damn. Good.

And I can only say that you won’t understand until you, too, are forty.

Hurry up, already. The party has started.
And to my friends who are forty: So happy to finally join you.

Today, when we make the grand birthday toast at lunch, I will raise my glass in honor of Linda and Jayne, and, you too.

conversations with young one

2012-02-02T14:40:00.000+01:00

Young One: Mamma, Daddy has only ever kissed three girls.
Me: Really?
Young One: Yep. Me, you, and that girl in college who said, "Come here and kiss me, now!"
Me: How do you know about the girl in college?
Young One: Daddy told me all about it. I know she was drunk, though.
Me: What does it mean to be drunk?
Young One: It means you drink too much wine and do stupid things.
Me: Have you ever seen someone drunk?
Young One: Only on TV.

Phew.
I'll leave it to him to reveal the details of his first wife to her. I'm just happy she's never seen me drunk; we do lead by example.

.......................

Richard later revealed that the conversation didn't go exactly as she reported. Admittedly, he would like to have her believe that he has only ever kissed two (not three) girls, me and her. When I met him, he was already over 40 and had kissed several frogs before finding his princess. (Ahem, that would be moi.)

They have never talked about drunkeness. I hate the TV.

corner view

2012-02-01T19:58:00.003+01:00

corner view :: light

A Snow-covered Vineyard in the Paese

Finally. Today. We had our first light dusting of snow.

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For more corner views, visit Francesca at FuoriBorgo.

uccelli = birds

2012-01-26T17:35:00.000+01:00

We had a bird-filled weekend recently.

Saturday

A nice bird lady brought both an owl and a hawk to a child's birthday party. Young One bravely volunteered to allow the owl to perch on her arm. She taught us all about their habits and hunting techniques and even invited us to accompany her on a "Hawk Walk" in the future, a walk through the local woods as the hawk flies above and follows our path.

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Sunday

A kind neighbor invited us to a bird lunch at his home. Here we learned all about the techniques and methods for hunting and cooking little birds, a very common practice in Veneto. (This was Richard's second bird encounter this season. The first was with the fathers in Young One's class.) These 82 song birds being roasted in the image are actually from near Rome. Freshly hunted. I sat across from the middle-aged hunter in his grey cashmere sweater, a small business owner in the city of Vicenza.

And that's all I have to say about that.

corner view

2012-01-25T08:52:00.001+01:00

Corner View :: January

In January we celebrate the birthday of the man of the house. This year he requested Phillis's lemon pie with a meringue topping, and I was happy to make the decadent pie. Young One is cracking up in the photo because Richard has just opened his card only to hear the voice of the one and only (half-dressed) David Hasselhoff giving him birthday wishes, including a line about not wearing a shirt. She and I thought it was hoot...he was dazed and confused initially. It's important to inject a bit of humor into his days!

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For more Corner Views, visit Francesca at FuoriBorgo.

corner view

2012-01-18T20:17:00.001+01:00

Corner View :: Black and White

Fog Meets Frost in the Paese

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Corner View is a weekly themed photo project; visit Francesca at FuoriBorgo to play along.

let me introduce you to

2012-01-16T18:49:00.000+01:00

some of the best little people on the planet
(and their picture-taking mammas)

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We've just returned from our annual meet-up with friends in Garmisch, Germany, which is really just a little slice of heaven nestled high in the Bavarian Alps. If I can get my act together before the end of the week, then I'll share some images of our time together.

Just a note on the photo: We corralled them all to the back patio of the house we were renting for the annual group photo. I always, always like to take a step back and take a photo with the photographers in focus. This time I was lucky because I simply held my camera over my head and snapped a couple, creating an image with the kids just blurry enough for me to feel comfortable posting them here. One of the mothers is outside of the frame. Considering there were no less than five cameras pointed in their faces and five bossy mammas giving them instructions simultaneously, I think they collectively fared very well. When the dogs were brought into the frame ... well, that's a different story.

conversations with young one

2012-01-12T08:30:00.000+01:00

Just after we all three sat at the dinner table yesterday evening, this quick conversation, initiated by Young One, ensued:

Young One: I did really well on my verifica today. I ...

It prompted a simultaneous, concerned interruption from both Richard and me.

Me: You had a test?! I didn't know about a test. Did you know about this in advance?
Richard: Wait a minute! A test. What kind of test? This is the first time I hear of this test.

There had been an issue with a test in October, and since then we committed to preparing her, studying with her before any tests. It's what parents do, right?

Young One: And this (with heavy, adult-like emphasis on the word "this") is exactly why I did not tell you about it. You guys freak out (similar emphasis) any time I have a test. This was on the articoli indeterminativi (indefinite articles) and I only missed one. All of those on the paper and I only got one (emphasis) wrong and it was only because I don't know how to say "igloo" in Italian and most of the kids got that one wrong anyway but you guys freak out if I tell you I have a verifica. I have another verifica tomorrow, too, but I am not telling you anything about it. Don't freak out.

A ha. Enough said. Message to control "freak out" factor duely noted.

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The irony, of course, is that we are careful not to place emphases on the grades she earns on these tests, and use phrases peppered with "doing your best " and "being prepared." We take that preparation seriously, though. There is absolutely no "freaking out" over grades in this house, and now I know there is perhaps too much of it concerning the preparation.

What a job, this parenting.

.

a gift from neighbors

2012-01-09T20:35:00.000+01:00

Local Chestnut Honey

I'm thinking it'll be nice drizzled over pears, pecorino, and toasted walnuts.

What do you think?

late friday afternoon in the paese

2012-01-07T16:58:00.001+01:00

And home again...

We went down to the garage together to start gathering the snow gear for the upcoming ski trip when Young One lamented that she missed her bike, her poor, poor, lonely bike in the cold, dark garage all winter long. I think she was quite surprised when I agreed to her request to take it for a ride down to the church. Along the way I heard her mumble something about not needing to always have friends around when you have such a fun Mamma. I beamed.

Hey. I'll take what I can get, especially if it means I can take a walk with my camera on a not-so-foggy, relatively warm winter day. But, for Pete's sake, do not tell Young One of my motives!

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Hope you are having a good weekend. We deconstructed Christmas in our house today, the day following the Epiphany. Phew... what a job.

hello, 2012

2012-01-01T16:54:00.002+01:00

This is exactly what we were doing right around the stroke of midnight...

'Twas yet another fine night of fire, prosecco, and dancing in the street with a jovial bunch of folks! And now we've spent most of the first day of the year napping in our PJ's and watching movies together. To say that Richard and I can't hang with late nights laced in booze (and fire) is the understatement of the new year...but we try our best, nonetheless.

Happy Day to You!

2011, a final thought

2011-12-31T15:39:00.002+01:00

Month-by-Month

This year has taught me a bit about perspective.
In the grand scheme I now know some things to be true:
I am needed;
I am blessed;
I am loved.
And with these comes a pure sense of gratitude and confidence.

I doubt that it gets better than this.

I do have high hopes for an even better 2012, nonetheless.
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A Happy New Year to You & Yours!

these final days of 2011

2011-12-29T16:07:00.001+01:00

The final week of 2011 has been mostly low key, with moments of ...

Performing happy dances over surprises from Santa ...

Trying out new tools with an old friend, who happens to be a pasta-loving man, too ...

Welcoming new dolls and animals into the mix ...

Reminiscing with cherised friends from our early days in Naples (Has it been that long?) ...

And DANCING in the basement! Lots and lots of dancing!

We are in full-on vacation mode with late nights and late mornings, naps and afternoon espressos, books and movies, and lots of discussion of plans for 2012. Many of the opened gifts are still placed under the tree, the laundry pile is multiplying, the dust bunnies are gathering, and nary a proper meal has been prepared (minus the pasta one evening); I wouldn't have it any other way.

Poesia di Natale

2011-12-26T14:34:00.000+01:00

Memorization tasks are still very common in Italian primary schools. Young One is often assigned a poem,a rhyme or a prayer for memorization, to be recited in front of the entire class. The lines are generally fairly short and not extremely challenging...until this Christmas, that is.She memorized a beautiful, albeit lengthy, version of the Christmas story for which she eventually received high marks from her second grade teacher. Well deserved high marks, if I do say so myself.

We hope you had a peaceful day and continue to enjoy time with loved ones. We have an old friend visiting for a few days and are tickled pink of his impromptu visit.

joy to the world

2011-12-24T17:53:00.001+01:00

Here we are ...
Ready.

Let every heart prepare Him room /
and heaven and nature sing!
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Merry Christmas!

in the kitchen this week

2011-12-22T07:35:00.004+01:00

Have I mentioned that I have an entire week at home alone?

This may be the greatest Christmas gift of all! (Don't judge...alone time is scarce in these parts.)

I've been busy in the kitchen, and even with my ~~crappy~~ small European oven, I've made some tasty treats to share with neighbors.

Iced Ricotta Cookies from Christmas Cookies.com

Chocolate Bourbon Balls from A Baker's Field Guide to Christmas Cookies by Wilson

Pecan Sand Crescents from Jambalaya, Crawfish Pie, File Gumbo by Robbins, Hymel and Champagne

Peanut Butter Chocolate Kisses from A Baker's Field Guide to Christmas Cookies by Wilson

The family favorite is the ricotta cookie. Don't let the name fool you; these cookies are delicious! I follow the eggless recipe exactly but do modify the glaze a bit by adding a dash of almond extract. They are billed as "Italian" on some websites, but I've never seen them here. Young One brought a couple to school this week for her mid-morning snack and shared with a couple of classmates. They quickly declared that they didn't like them and told her that Americans just have different tastes. Funny girls...but perhaps a bit of truth to that. Young One will not eat most Italian sweets.

The only thing missing are the decorated cut-out gingerbread cookies for Santa. That's a job for the entire family to tackle this weekend.

How is your baking going?

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can't.get.enough.bokeh.

2011-12-21T12:24:00.000+01:00

Hope you are having a great week! I'm headed out to the Recita di Natale at Young One's school this evening, which includes the entire elementary school with a bit of drama and singing. I have a feeling that it won't be a 45 minute type of show :)

using children's artwork on the christmas card

2011-12-19T08:10:00.000+01:00

A few years ago I received a card from a family that used a drawing of the manger scene by their young daughter as the artwork. Since then, I've wanted to so something similar and finally got my act together this year. As I suspected, Young One was just delighted (and a bit proud) to see her artwork featured on our 2011 card.

Christmas Card 2011

These were designed by moi and printed on 2-sided flat 4 x 5.5 notecards at Mpix. Young One created the digital art using a Wacom Bamboo tablet and Photoshop on my MacBook. I helped her a little with the layers in the Photoshop document, but she didn't need much assistance beyond that. Although Richard and I are pretty "techy," we don't allow or push it much with her and don't harbor fears that she'll be left behind. The tablet, like most 21st century consumer-level technology, is user-friendly, intuitive, and idiot-proof, as was clearly evidenced by the fact that my seven-year-old daughter could use it proficiently with just a little instruction. Photoshop CS5? Not so much!

The same effect could be achieved by simply scanning or photographing (in great light) child-created artwork. I know you have some good ones or could even likely commission a piece for the occasion!

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the final homemade gift

2011-12-19T07:45:00.000+01:00

This is the last one, I promise: photo notecards!

This idea came to me from one of Richard's colleagues who gave him a set of these as a welcome gift when he visited her school this fall. Initially, I had hoped to make postcards or notecards with my images professionally printed onto them. I discovered that this would require using the same few images in multiple quantities. How ever could I choose?

So instead, I had some of my favorite images printed at MPix in both the 3.5 x 5 and 4 x 5 size on their metallic paper and then ordered notecards from the JoAnn craft site. With a regular ol' glue stick, I adhered the photos to the cards and then pencilled in a (sometimes cheesy) title and date on each one.

I'll sort them into groups of five and bundle them and their envelopes with twine. I get the best feeling from this homemade gift because it signals a bit of confidence about my photography skills and allows me to give a part of me to others. I mean, these cards look really, really nice...and those are my photos. Finally.

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I am now officially on break until after the new year. Richard and Young One (both start break next week) have just left the house, and I'm off to complete task number one for this week: organizing and weeding the bookshelf in Young One's room. Oh, what an exciting life I lead!

2nd Grade, Class B, Does Gym

2011-12-18T16:00:00.000+01:00

It's a rare occasion that parents are invited into the classroom at Young One's school. According to people I know (cause I'm so in the know), this is not unique to her school but is the practice in most Italian elementary schools. Or so I hear. That's what they say. Really, what do I know? We were all recently invited in for a peek!

Her physical education teacher is good at organizing special projects that either take the kids out of the school, like the swimming last year, or bring speacilists into the school for at least one of the quarters. This year started with a local gymnastics coach working with the kids during the twice weekly PE classes.

Students keep a pair of (indoor-only) gym shoes at the school.

Kids were happy. Kids were listening. Kids were moving.

No complaints here.

That's another thing that doesn't seem to happen frequently in Italian elementary schools either, complaints from parents over every and any little thing. Or so I hear...but what do I know?

The teacher watched her flock from the side, likely thinking that she's happy that she doesn't have to be the PE teacher, too.

more homemade Christmas goodness

2011-12-16T10:15:00.000+01:00

Remember all those cherries from the late spring?
Cherries.
Cherries.
Cherries.
And more cherries.

They're back and ready to be shared with friends and family far and near.

Looking pretty good, if I do say so myself. (Which is no easy feat for me, btw, to make such claims ... but I do feel like I've been on a roll the last couple of weeks.)

We are hoping for a prolific 2012 cherry season!

behind the scenes @ the theater

2011-12-14T21:54:00.001+01:00

A friend invited me to join her for a rehearsal of this orchestra in Vicenza today. As I peeked in from the wings of the stage, I felt completely out of place and a bit like a fraud. I mean, all I really know about music is that I like it, a lot, and here I was in the midst of professional musicians being very professional and very musician-y. Undoubtedly, Richard would have been better suited to be in my spot. Maybe I'll invite him next time, now that I'm in with the muscian-y crowd ;)

Pretty cool, doncha think? As for Richard, don't worry about him...he's been behind the scenes and inside of the jowls of the Teatro di San Carlo in Naples several times and, for him, not much can top that. It is the oldest of it's kind in all of Europe, I do believe. Tomorrow night the three of us will attend the late-night Christmas concert, which includes the orchestra and some choral performances (to include some teens I know); our seats are near the top row, a stark difference to what I experienced today. So much for being in the "in" crowd!

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go!

going back -- sometimes it works

2011-12-12T12:23:00.000+01:00

We call this "quality time."

Visiting, baking, lounging, crafting, photographing, napping, cycling, fire-building, reading, laughing, remembering, dreaming, conversing, playing, and planning.

Being.

This group does it exceptionally well together, especially in the cradle of a centuries-old farmhouse.

Simple felt ornament patterns from OxeyeDaisey

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During the course of the ten years that I've lived in Italy, this is the one place that I have returned to time and again. Richard and I first visited before Young One was born and continued frequent visits until about two years ago, with quite a cast of characters with us at one time or another along the way. Our dear friend who was the impetus for these visits passed away and so did our draw to the house located in Umbria, near the Tuscan border. Timing, good fortune, and simple kindness on the part of the daughter of our friend allowed us to return this weekend. The time there awakened warm memories of previous visits, tucking a small piece of each those characters from years gone by in my heart, and calmed my soul, nurturing important friendships I share today ... I am now ready for Christmas.

been away

2011-12-11T22:34:00.001+01:00

Spent the long holiday weekend away.

In this ancient farmhouse.

In northern Umbria.

With besties.

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See you later this week with a peek at how we passed the time.

fleur de sel caramels so easy even i can make them ... really

2011-12-06T19:00:00.000+01:00

Fleur de Sel Caramels

Last spring when I visited Paris with the girls, I was busy seeking out things like vanilla beans and salt while they were making other choices during our shopping frenzies: jewelry, trinkets for kids, candy, Desigual fashion, spices, and so on.

One friend in particular, who shall remain nameless, but who has since moved to an island in the Atlantic, had a good laugh at my quest for Fleur de sel de Guérande, especially since I mentioned that I wanted it as a gift for my husband.

"You are bringing Richard salt as a gift ... from Paris?"

"Ahh, but it's not any salt, it's the best salt in the world. French salt from Brittany. It's fleur de sel."

"It's ... salt!?"

I couldn't explain.

This week I finally treated myself to a candy thermometer, et voila! salted caramels...oh, excuse me... Fleur de Sel Caramels. Easy, peasy, divine goodness, or beginner's luck.

Do you know how many times I can make this recipe for fleur de sel caramels with the amount of salt I bought in Paris? My husband LOVES caramels. French fleur de sel is a perfect gift that keeps on giving, batch after glorious batch! The man is in heaven. Ordinary salt is no substitute, trust me. And, I even have enough to add these caramels to my list of homemade gifts this year.

I have a little baggie of caramels that I intend to send to this friend in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean this holiday season because I still like her (and miss her) even though she even had a laugh with Richard about my gift weeks after we returned. One bite and the woman will get it, I'm sure. Unfortunately, I bet she won't find any fleur de sel in the Azores. Who's laughing now, girlfriend?

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Here is the recipe I used with step-by-step pictures from our friend Ina Garten.

Divine.

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If you are here looking for corner view, I'll return to it after the holiday season.

homemade christmas

2011-12-04T09:00:00.001+01:00

I love a homemade gift. Last year I made herbal sea salt & big jars of biscotti to share with family, friends, and colleagues. The biscotti was very well received and some of Richard's colleagues are still talking about it; I should have included suggestions for ways to use the herbal sea salt as I think people were stumped.

The idea of homemade vanilla extract first came to me from Karen, and then after seeing it a few other places, including one of the Barefoot Contessa cookbooks, the idea planted as a quick & easy homemade gift idea. It was Elaine's step-by-step instructions excellent photographs and links to supplies that gave me the final inspiration. I love the blogging community for this reason! So.Much.Good.Stuff. & So.Much.Sharing.

I bought the beans in Paris last spring. Oh, la, la. They seem impossible to find where I live. The 4 ounce cobalt blue bottles are from here. The extract was actually started at the end of August and has been steeping in our cantina under the stairs.

I've just now made the labels, and, Voila! impressive little gifts from the heart for the bakers on my list.

Do you have plans for homemade gifts this Christmas?

conversations with young one

2011-11-28T20:48:00.001+01:00

The questions and conversations about religion continue, always with a mixing of the languages because she rarely hears these things in English and her mind doesn't translate quite the way you might expect.

The sign of the cross and holy trinity were the latest topic, one that still leaves her confused.

"Mom, I don't understand this three in one thing. Is it il nome-- il pardre, il figlio, and lo spirito santo...all in one amen? (Is it the name -- the father, the son, and the holy spirit...all in one amen?)"

Judging that her understanding is unclear simply from the awkward wording of her question, I attempt to answer, "I, well, it's..." Have you explained the holy trinity to a seven year old lately?

She impatiently interrupts.

"I mean is it like soup? You put the broccoli, the mushrooms, and the salad in it, and then it becomes one thing. That's it. It's like soup. Il padre, il figlio, and lo spirito santo all make amen, one thing. Do you want me to tell you the story of San Valentino? He ate a lot because he was rich. Rich people wore red clothes."

Without waiting for response from me, she eagerly continued with the story of the wealthy San Valentino.

........................

As an educator, it pleases me to see her making connections and comparisons and drawing conclusions.

As a parent, I need to teach that girl how to make a soup! The odd thing is that she chooses minestra at school a few times a week. I can assure you that it never has "salad" (lettuce) in it.

........................

Have a great weekend!

corner view

2011-11-28T10:01:00.001+01:00

corner view :: joy

The paper sign hanging on the stair railing reads: "School of Stuffed Animals." Today's lesson was about 15th Century Venice, probably because it was the book in closest proximity to the action. Although this is school, it's not really about the subject, anyway. No way. It's about being the teacher. The boss.

........

Can you believe that each of those pupazzi has a name -- Porky, Busi, Bun Bun, Green Apple, Baby GaGa, Neve, Gracie, Lola, Red Red, UUAA (the sound a gorilla makes, naturally)...etc. Can you believe I know the names of most of them?

And when I have to give pause to complete simple mental math, or when I write "chose" when I mean "choose," I blame it on this type of trivia which now inhabits my brain and pushes learn-ed things further into the abyss, into the grey matter of the person I used to be.

Hey, I'm okay with that. Having a front row seat to this childhood is an unparalleled JOY for me. It's my most important work, afterall.

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For more corner views, visit Francesca.

for hansel & gretel

2011-11-27T07:51:00.001+01:00

A few things:

:: Upon completion of this year's masterpiece, Young One said, "I think mine is exaggerated, Mom." I assured her that it was perfect, simply perfect. Well, okay, maybe it isn't simple...but it sure is perfect ;)

:: This year I decorated a house alongside her. By the end of the day, she told me that I needed to just stop using so many bad words.

:: She LOVES this annual holiday season project.

:: It's a fabulous use of candy from previous seasons; there are lots of jelly beans from Easter and many Halloween candies on this year's house. I hide those candies after a couple weeks of the holiday, and she never misses them.

:: Though she loves this project, the icing is still too frustrating for her (evidently for me, too), so I just cover the entire pre-built structure in icing and let her complete the rest.

:: It's not as random as it appears. The symmetry of the roof, the licorice bench, the chocolate door...these were all very deliberately choosen.

:: I let her drive the entire time. This year she took it to full speed.

Previous Houses:

Circa 2008

Circa 2010

We are ready for the holiday season in this house :)

the incredible, edible egg & Deruta

2011-11-26T17:19:00.001+01:00

My favorite Deruta pottery maker is Cama.

My favortie Cama pattern is Antico Deruta.

The egg plate pictured here is the Orvieto pattern.

I've had it for years, years before I decided on my favorite pattern.

I still love it.

I only have two pieces of Antico Deruta.

(Have you seen the prices? I don't know how I have any pieces.)
It's hand painted. Some pieces are even hand thrown.
I think the egg plate is from a mold.

I've met the family who runs Cama, visited the small store, toured the laboratory.
They are what we Southerners call, "Good People."

In a couple of weeks we'll visit that part of the country.
Ahh, I love that part of the country.
I dream of making it my home.

Tonight we'll settle for visiting friends & bringing the eggs, on fancy Deruta pottery.

Does anyone even make deviled eggs anymore?

I do.

I have to use the fancy plate.

And, yes, the yolk is that bright.
It's from a fancy Italian hen.
Maybe she is hormone and antibiotic free?
I don't think that she is free range.

My kid is free range, for seven.

Enough.
Good night.

a visual metaphor for Thanksgiving Day

2011-11-25T15:58:00.001+01:00

In the blink of an eye,

here she comes...

and there she goes.

Thanksgiving Day, 2011

Feeling grateful & blessed.

corner view

2011-11-23T05:30:00.000+01:00

corner view :: a different corner

This week I have an update on the Corner to Corner project to share. Joanne's Japanese tenugui has gone from Francesca in Italy to Jane in Spain to Kay in the Netherlands to me in Italy. Check out the map here!

Yesterday I wrapped up a special Italian surprise, added a tag, and sent it on its way to Dorit in the Faroe Islands, certainly a different corner from the one I call home.

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Too see more corner views or to link up with your corner view post, visit Francesca.

persimmon bread with whiskey

2011-11-20T12:31:00.001+01:00

We have this one neighbor in the paese who occasionally offers us things from his garden, always when we happen to meet him outside inadvertently. It's an odd, "Nice to see you. Can I offer you some over-ripe figs?" moment in the parking lot. This is the same guy who scores the day-old pastries from a local bakery; he shares those at times, too. Unfortunately, most of his offerings end up in our umido (organic waste) bucket.

When I can, I try to salvage the fresh produce; however, when I get it a day past its prime, it can be a difficult to impossible task, especially when it appears in the middle of a busy week. Thursday, he gave me about seven soft kaki or persimmons in a plastic bag with instructions to eat them by tomorrow. Eh...

It didn't take me long to decide on a recipe when I came upon a David Lebovitz recommended one from James Beard that also includes whiskey. You know me and my new love affair with Maker's Mark. Of course, I had to borrow some from another neighbor because our bottle has long since been emptied, and I've held off on replacing it until the holidays, when all bets are off concerning alcohol consumption and guilt. She had an unopened bottle that had been given to her three Christmases ago by yet another well-meaning neighbor.

I followed the recipe exactly, except that I used a handful of golden raisins and another of dried cranberries in place of the two cups of raisins. It's good -- a moist, nutty, fruity quick bread with a hint of whiskey. Richard describes it as "Fruit Cake Lite" -- a perfect fruit cake for someone who doesn't like fruit cake. Hmmm.... The recipe made six small loaves, most of which I plan to distribute to these neighbors in the paese, even though I'm not sure what they'll think of Fruit Cake Lite.

conversations with young one

2011-11-18T16:41:00.001+01:00

"Mom, you know my religion teacher is just wrong. He is supposed to be the best because he teaches religion. He yells the most, is the meanest, and he even uses funny words in the prayers. That's not good for God, you know."

Well, hello, Little Miss Morality. Nice to meet you.

........................

Ironically, the nun, who is her main teacher, is not her religion teacher at school; a young man (whose exact religious title eludes me) serves as her religion teacher at school.

And for even more irony, I just dropped her off for yet another hour of religious instruction for catecismo in the paese, which is taught by a couple of moms who are likely the least pious of the bunch, even if they are the nicest. That's good for God, I suppose.

........................

I know you don't believe me when I tell you that we are not very religious people. Do you?
Spiritual, maybe. Religious, no.

With that said, I do love that my girl was excited to tell me the stories of two different saints this week, stories she learned from the meanest teacher ... you know, the one not good for God.

........................

I <heart> irony.

corner view

2011-11-16T10:02:00.001+01:00

corner view :: where has the time gone?

Young One: 3 Months

Sorry. I just couldn't resist posting an infant pic. And while Richard and I often ponder that whole "Where has the time gone?" question, let me assure you that we have treasured each and every moment that this little turkey has been in our lives...even if we can't remember much from the first few years. Don't fret, I've got scrapbooks filled with ~~fictional~~ accounts of each and every precious moment, exactly as I remembered it -- two years later.

Young One: 7 Years & 4 Months

Holy Tornado, Batman! Where does the time go?

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For more corner views on this topic, visit Francesca.

just me and my man & a little of the sweet life

2011-11-14T11:57:00.001+01:00

We escaped for a long weekend in the Langhe hills of the Piedmont region of Italy, where we leisurely drove through the hills for a glimpse of the end of the fall colors, stopping in small towns like Alba, Barolo, Dogliani, and Serralunga D'Alba. And we strolled, arm-in-arm pausing to sip Barolo's and Dolcetto's when the mood hit us. And we splurged on the intoxicating white truffles, or tartufi bianci. And we stayed in a beautifully renovated convent covered in frescoes. And we meandered through a wine museum housed in an old castle perched on a hill. (And we updated our Facebook walls with images of our journey, like giddy young people. Did you see it?) And we enjoyed the gift of being kid-free given to us by friends who took Young One in for the weekend.

There are times that I wonder when I'll wake up to the reality that I had once imagined my life would be ... Living in Italy is not all "La Dolce Vita" all the time, but when it is, there is nothing like it. Let me assure you of that, my friends.

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Young One's Italian Education Continues This Year

2011-11-09T22:26:00.000+01:00

We met with Young One's primary teacher this week; she has five teachers, you know. We've never actually taken the opportunity to schedule conferences with the other teachers. I mean, really, the physical education teacher teaches every kid in the school...I don't think he wants to spend his time chatting it up with a couple of foreigners about their seven year old's athletic prowess. We figure no news is good news from him and both the religion and art teachers. The English teacher's fluency is a bit of a mystery, so it's just best that we keep away from her too, for now. I'm sure she's perfectly lovely even if my seven year old mocks her pronunciation (one, chew, tree). Ahem.

This conference was much like previous ones, taking place at the end of the day in small room with ceilings higher than its width and the oddly-tall walls adorned with both the Madonna and a sizable crucifix. I suppose if the news is bad, there is help instantly available...alas, things didn't go badly. With such little change in the educational environment, I didn't expect any surprises.

Young One attends the same school in the same classroom with the same teacher and the same classmates. This year they all tackle second grade together. Next year, it's third, and so-on until the final fifth year.

The maestra in her full habit sat across the desk from us and spoke informally of Young One's progress. She offered no collection of work, no tangible portfolio, no conduct chart, no list of grades ... just anecdotal accounts of strengths and weaknesses in general terms. She was in a good mood this time, but we learned nothing new.

Luckily, we aren't hungry for grades, for assessments. Each Friday notebooks and papers are brought home for us to review, but, honestly, I often can't make heads or tails of the actual assessments from the teacher. I can't distinguish between an "Ottimo!" and a "Brava!" or what makes some work worthy of a "10," while other work earns an "8.5." I don't quite understand the difference between "scheda" and "verifica" and "prova." I know the meaning of all of these words and numbers, and I've asked for clarification from Italian teacher friends. I still can't quite fully comprehend them in this context. I understand the errors that are marked, but I don't understand the complexity of the accomplishments as well in this foreign environment.

It doesn't matter. What matters is that my kid likes school. She likes it a lot. Her teacher seems to understand her as she has pinpointed her weaknesses exactly, which aren't all directly related to academic achievement. She can read very well, but math is her greatest strength. Could it be the universal language of numbers? She now knows the parts of a plant and leaf classification in two languages, though she professes she hates science. She respects her peers and is a trusted volunteer who sets the tables in the cafeteria before school each morning. She has friends (and I think a nemesis), and trades snacks during the break, while playing rounds of Mamma Casetta.

A large sweet potato she brought in a few weeks ago is growing both roots and stems beyond measure, and this strange American vegetable is garnering positive attention in comparison to the paltry European potatoes whose roots apparently aren't as prolific. She sings songs about the multiplication tables, and she has three speaking parts in a play that the class is rehearsing. She's learning prayers, knows the history of the rosary and All Saint's Day, and considers her teacher her "third mother," after me and Mary, of course. Of course! Her newest obsession concerns natural disasters, like landslides, floods, and earthquakes, and ways to remain safe in their paths. Her teacher is from Genova, so this is not surprising.

She likes her teacher while simultaneously being afraid to disappoint her or "to make her yell." It's a delicate balance that's being achieved, for now. I think.

She wants to go to school. She is learning. She is behaving. She is healthy.
She is hungry to learn.
This is all I know, and all I need to know.

Brava, Ottimo, Scheda, Prova, 10 ... chi sa?

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corner view

2011-11-09T05:00:00.000+01:00

corner view :: home sweet home

It's not really a place or a thing is it? I once thought so, but now I believe it to be a feeling of peace and contentment more than anything: Home Sweet Home. Tonight, at least, I'm feeling it as I sit here nestled on my comfy couch sipping hot tea and creating this post while listening to Richard read Kitten's First Full Moon to Young One just upstairs, all in the soft light of my favorite lamp. I think it has even finally stopped raining. Yep. Home Sweet Home.

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For more corner views, visit Francesca.

say cheese!

2011-11-05T09:44:00.001+01:00

The Caseificio Sociale in Ponte di Barbarano, just a few miles north of our paese, recently opened its doors to the community for tours and tastings. Always ready to get to know our adopted home better, I insisted that we attend and then invited a couple of neighbor children to join us. The little people, having visited the popular cheese shop before, were not very enthusiastic about the invite to explore inside the factory; the sense of smell is a powerful thing.

Aged Over 20 Months

Grana Padano is this region's equivalent to Parmigiano Reggiano. Of course, some say it doesn't compare while others think it superior. It's not the same thing, nor is it intended to be so. It's a matter of taste ... or likely birthplace. A certain exaggerated loyalty to home exists here. I can't relate to that at all. (winkwink) You can read more about this history of this cheese here.

Created October 28, 2011

I wish I could offer a great explanation with these pictures. The tour was in Italian and the factory was a surprisingly noisy place. Background noise significantly lowers my comprehension level. I did get the gist of it at times; essentially, it's a lot of work with many quality control checks. And wouldn't you know it, I found a website that explains the entire process.

We saw two warehouses, each with row upon row of cheese wheels. What we did not see are the cows! This is a cooperative, so the milk comes from dairy farms throughout the area. I always thought that the smell that emanates from the popular cheese shop came from the cows out back. Not so.

Stinky, Stinky Cheese

All those lines and patterns are a photographer's dream, no?

At the conclusion of the tour we had a chance to taste the grana as well as other cheeses made in the factory. These cyclists are pretty typical of our area, too! Loads of spandex in the Colli Berici. Loads.

The cheese shop is very popular among the locals and is generally very, very busy, especially around the holiday time when the demand for cheese increases, I suppose. The caseificio also creates a selection of other cheeses from ricotta to marscapone to stracchino to Asiago. All good.

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Caseificio Sociale Ponte di Barbarano

8-12:30 and 14:30 to 19.
Monday - Saturday (Closed Wednesday afternoon)
Just follow Riviera Berica until you reach Ponte di Barbarano; you can't miss the giant cheese wheel.

factory tour

2011-11-04T08:51:00.000+01:00

Can you imagine what's made in this nearby factory?

We had a little tour last weekend, and, admittedly, I was a bit shocked at the inside of this place.

I had no idea.

Next post I'll share images of the product.

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conversations with young one

2011-11-03T06:43:00.002+01:00

While flipping through our Apple TV, searching for a sick-day movie for Young One and I to view together, I happened upon the trailer for the movie Beginners. We watched it. We love the trailer feature of Apple TV, and, at times, spend more time engaged in previews than in movies. Go figure.

Young One: Mamma, do you want to watch that movie? People die in that movie.

Me: It's a movie for adults, and, yes, I think Dad and I may watch it eventually.

Young One: Yeah. In my cartoons people die all the time, but they always come back to life.

Pause.

Young One: Just like Jesus.

..........................

Yep. Just like Jesus.

We chose to watch Richie Rich, a movie from 1994 with themes that apply today. You know, just like Jesus.

corner view

2011-11-02T14:11:00.002+01:00

corner view :: dream

Is there still such a thing as the "American Dream"?

Spend some time at this site & tell me what you think: We Are the 99%.

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For more dreams from other corners of the world, visit Francesca.

the dark side

2011-11-01T10:41:00.000+01:00

Last year she chose to be a mean witch, and this year she took it a step further with the choice of vampiress. It was a toss-up between vampiress and Michael Jackson for a few weeks. Evil won, I suppose.

And once again she played the role quite well, staying in character for most of the evening...well, at least for the photos.

I think we have moved permanently to the dark side of Halloween, where ghouls and goblins and witches and vampires seek out princesses and lady bugs and piglets and Luigi's only to work their evil ways. I wonder if we are being politically incorrect or somehow inappropriate because as I hop around Facebook and blogland, I don't see many kids in scary costumes. I have one thing to say about that ...

Be afraid. Be very afraid. Baaaaaahhhhhhaaaaaaa!
But really though, how scary is a vampiress with over-sized dentures and a long strand of pearls?

living for the weekend

2011-10-30T21:02:00.002+01:00

Lounging...

Assembling...

Preparing...

Steaming...

Gaming...

Indulging...

Organizing...

Enjoying...

Chillin'...

Dining...

Carving...

Lately, I've been totally living for the weekends, going through the motions all week looking forward to Saturday morning. This weekend was no different, except for the addition of pumpkins here and there.

Tomorrow we take to the streets in hopes of finding more treats than tricks, even though none of us is feeling well ... luckily, November 1 is a holiday in Italy. Very lucky indeed.

7 Links Worth Sharing & A Good-bye

2011-10-28T05:30:00.000+02:00

“'It’s supereasy. It’s like learning to use toothpaste,' Mr. Eagle said. 'At Google and all these places, we make technology as brain-dead easy to use as possible. There’s no reason why kids can’t figure it out when they get older.'” - from "A Silicon Valley School that Doesn't Compute"

"Generation X devotes more hours to work than average and pursues continuing education." - from "A Study Says Generation X is Balanced and Happy"

Perspective...
We are the 99% on Tumblr.

"Created by moms, StorySnoops offers children's book reviews from a parent's perspective. Our search features identify tween and teen fiction for every type of reader. Curious about content? Our book reviews will give you the scoop! We help you find fiction that fits." - from Story Snoops: Judge a Book By More Than It's Cover

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Summer good-byes are never easy. Young One & Her Favorite Cousins // August 2011

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"Violent storms across northern and central Italy claimed at least six lives and left eight missing Wednesday as roads, bridges and at least one house were swept away in mudslides and torrential downpours." -from "Storms Claim Six Lives in Italy"

Gaby's Fall Fest Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Bars
Must. Try. Soon.

"The 'fresh' scent of fabric softeners usually serves as a disguise for a surprising array of toxic chemicals. In fact, recent studies reveal that among all household products, one of the most toxic is fabric softener." - from "Truly Clean Laundry Has No Smell"

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corner view

2011-10-26T06:33:00.002+02:00

corner view :: exotic

It's all about perspective, isn't it? I've had that concept on my mind quite a bit lately -- perspective. I grew up in the rural south of the United States, where things that seemed normal to me would likely seem exotic to you. Ever been to an authentic crawfish boil? For me, that was life. It continues to be for family still there. It's a good life, I tell ya.

My life has changed a bit since then. I bet yours has, too. A few weeks ago we sent our 30 liter stainless steel container down to Sicily with Nonno Nino. He will return it filled with this year's olive oil from his family's production, and when he does we'll place it in our cantina under the stairs with my husband's wine collection. Just ten years ago, this would have seemed incredibly exotic to me. Now, I can't imagine life without any of it: the oil, the husband, and especially not the vino. Wait. . . this isn't a post about vino? How did I get there?

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For more exotic views of the world, see Francesca.

conversations with young one

2011-10-25T06:41:00.001+02:00

During the drive home after school yesterday:

"Mamma, if you sit in the back of the class, in the very last row, then you can sleep while the teacher is talking so much."

Yawn.

................................

The homework last night was to find a leaf, so we took a little walk about the paese after arriving home.

How do you like the fabulous grape leaf she selected?

Then I put her to bed early.

...............................

A friend once asked me, in honest disbelief, "If not the teachers' kids, then who?" as we shared stories of a certain couple of teachers' kids who had made some very bad choices in the realm of education.

We are both educators ... we do have a reputation to uphold. Get some zzzzz's little girl.

saturday morning with madonna

2011-10-23T10:09:00.000+02:00

We tried to convince her to enroll in a ballet class a couple of weeks ago, even insisted that she attend at least one lesson in the basement/gym of the elementary school down the street. And she did, begrudgingly, and immediately afterwards refused, adamantly, to enroll, opting to keep with her non-competitive gymnastics instead.

Of course.

A girl who loves vintage Madonna this much on a Saturday morning ain't exactly cut out for ballet.

Is she?

Don't tell her teacher, Sister Maria Elisa, but "Like a Prayer" is her favorite Madonna tune.

Oh, the scandal.

Life is a mystery.

keeping up with the rossi's

2011-10-22T13:57:00.002+02:00

I have a seven-year-old second grader who has not once asked for anything for her wardrobe. Never. The few times that I've taken her shopping with me she has remained unimpressed, and only once has she requested something while even in the store, with my urging that she select something. (For the record, I hated it.) In fact, it is even quite rare that she'll refuse any clothing or shoes that I select for her. I hear stories from friends about their daughters (and even some sons) and, well, I'm thankful for this little fact. My sister's daughter is much the same way; she is equally appreciative.

For the first time ever, Young One asked for a specific item of clothing: "a coat with a furry hat, just like all the other kids in the class have." Hooray! Of course you can have the coat you want, my sweet girl. And then a couple of days later she added, "But it has to be the super-soft hat, Mamma." Translation = fur-lined hood. It is quite the fashion trend in these parts, these (real) fur-lined hoods.

I obliged.

I shelled out the bucks for this extravagant coat (even though she has a perfectly good ski coat from last year.) The winter is long here, so long and grey. EVERYONE has one.

She is very happy with her new furry hooded down coat.

Okay.

Don't judge.

I had a multi-colored rabbit coat when I was her age. Didn't you?

Well, then you missed out, my friend.

---------------------------------

Rossi -- most common Italian surname according to this site, which I found with a random Google search -- may or may not be credible.

updated & thoughts on color

2011-10-20T23:15:00.001+02:00

There are a million different things I should have been doing after a still-recovering Young One fell asleep early and Richard was out for a night doing manly things, leaving me alone for nearly two complete hours in a quiet and chilly house on the cusp of the weekend.

Don't go thinking I was about to waste my solitude on the laundry or the dishes, or even on my great homemade Christmas gifts project, my friends.

Instead, I updated from this ...

to this ...

I've been having a love affair with these colors for the past couple of years; it's about time I get them on this space. Now, to get that mustard yellow on my walls in place of the noncommittal pastel yellow courtesy of my Italian painter who was convinced I absolutely did not want anything darker three years ago. Guess what? I found a new painter. He likes color. Despite this lovely fact, he just finished painting our basement ... white! Aghhh. Could this be the reason for the sudden need to add these colors here? To use my time so wisely. Help me.

corner view on an open fire

2011-10-19T06:22:00.001+02:00

corner view :: whatever tickles your fancy

Chestnuts are tickling my fancy.

It's chestnut time. Did you know that they really are roasted on an open fire? In the piazza in the middle of the pedestrian zone in Padova?

You did know those chestnut facts, you say? Do you know where all those wooden crates used for fruits and vegetables in markets go? I bet you thought they were all reused or, at least, repurposed here in Italy.
Hmmm....
Does firewood qualify as repurposing?

They are fueling the fire in Padova.

We can't get enough, of the chestnuts, not the burning wooden crates.

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For more Corner Views, visit Francesca & link up in her comments.

Monday Link Love & a Spider, Oh My!

2011-10-17T08:06:00.001+02:00

Spooky Spider Spied at Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge (VA, Summer 2011)

For gratitude . . . Spent -- Can you make it work on $1000 / month with no money in savings?

For confirmation . . . "Hearing Bilingual: How Babies Sort out Language" (Brain power!)

For listening . . . Baton Rouge's Better Than Ezra releases Death Valley (Geaux Tigers!)

For the oven . . . How to Make a Perfect Chocolate Chip Cookie (My dough is chilling.)

For a quick & easy craft time with kiddo . . . Simple Snowflake Ornaments (Add glitter!)

For the stovetop . . . John Folse's Chicken and Andouille Gumbo (Made it Saturday, minus the mushrooms. Yummy.)

For the kid's bookshelf . . . Pippo the Fool by Tracey Fern (Love the story & the rich vocab; great read aloud for young minds)

For my blog reader . . . The Tipsy Baker by Jennifer Reese (After hearing her interviewed on Marketplace about her newly released book: Make the Bread, Buy the Butter!)

And finally . . .

Up for debate in our house: To Nespresso or Not to Nespresso? That is the question.
(Either way, I will never let go of a morning cup of Community. Ever. These days we are purchasing the dark roast beans and grinding them each morning.)
....................................

Happy Monday!

perspective from a city girl

2011-10-15T10:08:00.004+02:00

Yesterday afternoon one of Young One's classmates came home from school with us for a Friday afternoon play date.

Considering that the last time a "city kid" came out to the country with his dad to visit us he had quite an aversion to the smells of the country, which shouldn't be confused with those of the country club he frequently visits, I was just a bit curious to see how this would go. I'm not sure if he got a whiff of the cow across the street or the rabbits and chickens right next door, but the odor lingered with him the entire time he was here and became his (obnoxious) focus.

This little girl was so completely different. The minute the cliffs came into view she became ecstatic with delight, and in super-speed Italian relayed a hiking adventure of her family and shared how much she just wants to climb those rocks, those high and mighty cliffs. And she continued and continued without pause for breathing until I parked the car. She didn't notice the smell, but ran quickly instead to one garden, and then to the next. Oh, how beautiful! Oh, look at the tomatoes! (Fillipo has one vine that is hanging around from warmer days.) Oh, look at the roses! Oh, the little olive tree. And how many cats are here! This seven-year-old girl from the city has an expansive vocabulary of flowery Italian language that makes everything so much more lovely than reality. Her excitement filtered through me.

No country smells at all on this crisp fall afternoon. Not that we notice much any more.

Pizzeria with Lamp Hanging from the Ceiling and Satellite and Antenna on the Rooftop

I had expected that they would spend their time inside, exploring the dress-up box and the AG collection. Of course, they were outside the entire time, instead . . . because when you live in a palazzo in the middle of the city and you are seven . . . you think that colored chalk on the blacktop out back which is surrounded by "mountains" is the bees-knees.

Perspective.

The Table is Set & Ready for Guests

I think Young One is picking her friends well.

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Have a super weekend. The temps here are perfect for gumbo. That's what's for dinner! Boy does that make me happy.

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Ps. I've discovered that colored sidewalk chalk is not very common here. It's always a hit with Italian children. This little girl was very excited to take a few pieces of Young One's stash home with her. It's the simple things, isn't it.

corner view

2011-10-12T05:00:00.000+02:00

:: October ::

First the pomegranates and soon the winter . . . blame it on Persephone or Demeter, or hell, just go ahead and give Hades the credit. Summer lingered here, and the fall harvest was a bit early. We have just now slidden smoothly into a cool fall, with the melagrane appearing this October.

And now a cocktail recipe: Combine one part pomegranate juice to two parts Prosecco. Throw in a few whole seeds to dress it up a bit. Serve chilled at any time of the day, guilt free. Pomegranate juice is good for you, afterall!

............................

For more Corner Views, visit Francesca.

sharks

2011-10-10T20:02:00.000+02:00

Pool Sharks in the Paese

Ready to make a wager?

cappuccio with a view

2011-10-09T16:02:00.000+02:00

Up and out early for a cappuccio (with a view) with the mister this Sunday morning. . .

In front of us, a view from the hills...

To our right, hunters sharing Prosecco...

Behind us, a house of worship...

...........................

Feeling grateful for a slow Sunday morning with a view (and friends who invite my kid to Saturday night sleepovers, thus making Saturday night dates and slow Sunday mornings possible.)

for my friend

2011-10-08T07:40:00.000+02:00

Thank you for all that you do for our young people.

You do make a difference.

You do have an impact.

You are a positive force in their lives.

Everything else is just gravy.

We are honored to have you among our friends.

horses: puppazi and living ones

2011-10-07T17:27:00.000+02:00

Puppazi get lots of play time in our house, often more than any other toys that fill the closets and shelves. This week, Lisa, a horse who has been around for several years, was the protagonist of the stories and songs. Hence, we've heard lots of whinnies and neighs. Lots. I'm hearing them in my sleep. Help me. I guess it's better than if the chosen puppazo were a pig. Oink.

We went for a bit of a trail ride when we visited Arkansas with my family this summer. (Yes, we visited Arkansas, on vacation.) Young One still remembers her horse, Cloud, who also appeared in the stories of the week. Oddly, there was no naked-belly, sandal-clad, horse-riding heroine who arrived to save the day. Just lots of whinnies and neighs. Lots. Help me.

.........................
Happy Weekend to You. Fall has finally arrived in the Veneto & we plan to soak up every moment of it this three-day weekend.

a celebrity visits

2011-10-06T05:00:00.000+02:00

The Scene:
I'm taking a picture of my friend Tina
who is taking a picture of her daughter with her friends
who are being embraced by a rather famous taker of pictures
who gave an inspirational talk at our school.

Later Tina shared with me that her camera malfunctioned and she didn't get the shot.
That's why you never saw it on Facebook ;)
Alas, you can say you saw it here!

Think he might like my picture of him? Poor guy wore a fancy Italian suit in a high school gym with a weak air conditioning system during an unseasonably warm Fall. Do you think I feel sorry for him?

Nah. Let him earn his tagline of "I support the troops on tour with the USO." Really now.

corner view

2011-10-05T05:00:00.000+02:00

:: the last thing I learned ::

Sunday we went for a nice walk which concluded with a bit of wine tasting at a cantina in Mossano. Though several bottles of wine were available for the crowd, the highlight of the experience was a taste of the grape juice from this most recent harvest, the juice ready for fermentation.

And so I learned . . . "juice" is not the correct term . . . the correct term is "must."

We tasted the grape must, or mosto, in Italian.
It was much better than any grape juice I've ever had.

..............................

For more Corner Views, visit Francesca.

sunday outing

2011-10-02T23:08:00.002+02:00

This morning we took a guided walk in a neighboring town and learned a bit more about this place we call home; we toured an ancient structure carved and built into the rocky hillside, Le Prigioni, in Mossano. While the name suggests a prison, it is believed to have been a military structure created as an additional line of defense, perhaps built by prisoners many, many years ago, likely the 1400's (or so I understood from the guide. Please correct me if you can.)

Le Prigioni is on private property and is owned by the same family who owns the Villa Giulia in Mossano. Though public access is restricted, guided tours are held quite frequently throughout the year. I just wonder if this conversation ever happens in the family . . . "Hey, why don't we have a picnic on the west end of our ancient stone structure this weekend?" or "Let's have Andrea's birthday party in the principal room, where the guards are thought to have slept. That would be a great theme this year!"

Well . . . it is possible, isn't it?

It's amazing to me that a private individual can own such a piece of history. I love it.

lamenting lately

2011-09-30T07:03:00.001+02:00

Lately I've been lamenting the fact that we live "so far out" in the country, so far removed from the life of the city, from the cradle of civilization that is the centro storico. In reality we are only about 15 kilometers away from the historic city center, but it has just recently seemed so.very.far.away. Intolerably distant. Really, unless you reside in the thick of it, inside the ancient walls where pedestrians and bikes are the norm, then you are too far away from it.

I suspect the thoughts stem partly from the fact that we've kept up a frenzied pace since the start of August. And then Wednesday after school, I had a revelation, of sorts, or perhaps just a reminder. It was the first evening in a long time that all of the kids were out back together.

It was in the moment that I walked out to check on Young One and found eight children and one leash-free dog in and around the sand pit that I was reminded of exactly why we chose our house in our paese, our house so.very.far.away, our house with our gaggle of neighborhood children, the one located in the remote hills of the province. (You know, 15 km away from civilization.) Exactly. At this time, the paese works best for our family. So sorry I forgot that for a bit . . . I have been officially snapped back into reality.

corner view

2011-09-28T17:41:00.001+02:00

:: music ::

One day these dirty little hands will make beautiful music, just like her father's. For now they are simply strumming a dusty child-sized guitar that gets picked up less frequently than I had hoped. Yesterday she did tell me that she is "all about the melody" and that she has big plans to "create beautiful melodies" some day. It's genetic, and in our family it's entirely paternal. Already, at seven, she speaks, unsolicitedly and dramatically, about how important music is in her life. I like that, and I hope and pray for her sake that her one true passion in life is indeed for something I know nothing about, like music. . . it'll be better that way, I'm certain.

........................

For more Corner Views or to participate in the weekly project, visit Francesca and link up in her comments.

a road trip & a swag bag

2011-09-26T20:14:00.000+02:00

Took a road trip with a couple of girlfriends this weekend --

The kind of girlfriends I can spend a night in a triple hotel room with without hesitation or awkwardness --

That takes a lot, for me.

We went to Bologna to participate in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure.

Sunday morning we gathered in the park with hundreds of others.

We even received the race shirt and the swag bag.

It included tampons, anti-aging cream, a fiber bar and weight loss powders.

I kid you not.
Male participants received the same bag, btw.
I know because I saw a young man inadvertently drop his box of OB as he fumbled with the bag.
Poor fella.

It was a beautiful day for a 5k through the streets of Bologna.

This lady walked ahead of us for part of the race.

She didn't get the memo about this being an

anti-cancer kind of event.

Or maybe she did . . .

breast cancer, lung cancer . . . obviously not the same, right?
Geees, lady!

.....................

It's amazing what 36 hours away with the girls can do

for my psyche.

Thank you, man-o-mine, for supporting our trip AND

babysitting someone else's kid for the weekend.

You rock.

Race participant, smoker lady does not rock.
(I mean, smoke if you want to . . . but not during the Race for the Cure.)

Girlfriends rock, too.

.......................

Love,

Smoke-free for 3 years and 6 months

dimmi in italiano

2011-09-23T18:34:00.000+02:00

"Dimmi in Italiano. Dimmi in Italiano. Per favore," I pleaded once again with her as I tried desperately to work my way through understanding her needs. Of course. OfCourseOfCourseOfCourse, she absolutely refused to switch to Italian and explain herself. Instead, she continued in English, in a sing-song, whining voice which was quickly turning to Mamma!-You-are-the-mamma-why-can't-you-just-help-me-please? Just as always seems to be the case, the Italian eyes in the tiny shop on Via Nicolò Vicentino were piercing my very being. Have you ever had them on you? Real or imagined, they are never a good thing, these piercing eyes . . . trust me.

It started with an innocent stop after school at a local sporting goods store to pick up an extra physical education t-shirt and possibly a pair of shorts. I prepared in advance by locating the shop with my smart phone app and ensuring that I had small bills in my wallet, a must for a visit to a small store in this country. Small bills and small shops belong together. This task brought about no big flag on my radar screen, no Oh-my-goodness-can-I-figure-this-out? fears. I can navigate myself well enough in this foreign culture, this foreign land to be able to pick up a t-shirt without coincidence.

Or can I?

.........................................

I'll let you know soon. Right now I'm headed out to pick her up from a play date with a classmate. I should be able to navigate this too . . . we'll see.

(Dimmi in Italiano. = Tell me in Italian.)

corner view

2011-09-21T06:00:00.000+02:00

:: silly ::

After enduring four hours of Italian Sunday lunch at

Antica Trattoria Moreieta,

these four were ready for the silly shot.

September 11, 2011

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For more silliness, see Francesca.

back to school

2011-09-19T05:00:00.000+02:00

Folks, we have a second grader.
She's been at it for a week already.
All is good in the kingdom of Young One.

Let the learning commence!

saturday photo & an interview

2011-09-18T09:00:00.001+02:00

'Tis the Season

................................................

My friend OxeyeDaisey over at Creative Compulsive did me the honor of an interview on her blog --

an interview in which I wax philosophical about (my) creative process.

Can you stand it?

Go. Read. She makes me shine.

Check out her burgeoning Etsy shop, where you will find

fantastic, user-friendly original patterns

by this

bonafide costume designer.

{this moment}

2011-09-16T12:47:00.000+02:00

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Inspired by SouleMama.

...............................

on being fancy

2011-09-15T17:50:00.002+02:00

As we exited the school today, we ran into Stefan's mom. Stefan's mom is a genuinely warm and lovely lady who always takes the time to chat, to ask how things are going. We stood on the sidewalk for some time discussing the comings and goings of our summers. Then we did the obligatory muh-muh, right-left and parted ways, agreeing to get our families together soon.

I turned to Young One, "Isn't she just a nice lady? I really like her."

She looked up at me, and excitedly replied, "Oh, yes! And she is beautiful too, Mamma. Did you see her pearls? She is so fancy, Mamma. Did you see her shoes? Her shoes were the best. Even they had pearls. Did you see? Did you see?" Then she continued at length to describe her shoes in great detail. She would love to have those shoes.

Of course I didn't notice her shoes or her pearls or her dress or her bag. (It's difficult not to notice that she is a beautiful, elegant woman.)

Of course I was dressed in worn summer sandals, chinos, and a polo shirt. Not an ounce of fancy. I even had a canvas bag.

Oh.
The irony.
My girl loves fancy.
I am many things. Fancy is not one of them.
At least she thinks I'm beautiful, too. Though, she has requested that I become more fancy a time or two.
Not happening, Baby Girl.

..................

The back-to-school rush is slowing a bit, at least for Young One and me. I hope to catch up on blog reading and post some back-to-school pics this weekend. I was also featured in an interview on another blog and hope to share a bit about that. For now. . . time to make dinner because the man (who usually runs the kitchen in my house) is away for work, again.

corner view / italy

2011-09-14T06:03:00.001+02:00

:: iconic ::

Adorned with an electric light halo, she stands in the hallway leading to my daughter's classroom.

School finally started again here on Monday.

So far, so good.

Whew.

.........................................

For more iconic corner views, visit Francesca, and share your link in the comment section.

.........................................

searching for focus

2011-09-11T21:23:00.001+02:00

Working really hard on finding focus, direction, and clarity in this back-to-school frenzy that has overtaken our lives . . .

....................................

{ this moment }

2011-09-09T15:30:00.000+02:00

...............................

corner view

2011-09-08T10:59:00.000+02:00

:: indispensable ::

I found a card in my mailbox at school yesterday:

Dear Ms. K,

Thank you so much for all you've done for me these past few years. I have really enjoyed working with you as well as getting to know you as a friend. I also want to thank you so much for your recommendation letter. I know it is because of your letter that I'm going to Berkeley on scholarship. Aside from that, you've taught me a lot of life lessons that I will always remember. You've helped prepare me for this next part of my life and I cannot thank you enough for that. Our high school is far from being perfect but you are one of the better things about it, as well as one of the best teachers that I have ever had. I'm going to do my best to stay in touch and I will stop by and see you anytime that I am in town. Thank you again for everything!

Very Respectfully,
A Recent Graduate

..........................................

For a high school teacher, this kind of note is indispensable (absolutely necessary). It validates in a way that test scores and performance appraisals can't.

PS. My letter of recommendation did not gain him admission to Berkley. He is an amazing ~~kid~~ young man with a bright future. We are in good hands with kids like him in the next generation.

PSS. We are not friends, but he knows that I care about him, for him . . . that is indispensable for young people. When a student has the feeling that I care, I can get him/her to do almost anything :)

PSSS. We treasure these notes from parents, too. When is the last time you wrote one?

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For more Indispensable Corner Views . . . see Francesca.

making connections, 7-year-old style

2011-09-06T22:03:00.001+02:00

We often have the best conversations in the car or while she is in the tub, with me held captive in her presence, free of other distractions. Today, it went down like this in the car. . . .

Young One: Ewww, that is gross. Did you see that picture of the lady with the boobies?

This is Italy. There are often pictures of ladies and their breasts here and there. Usually, they go unnoticed, unmentioned. No big deal. Part of every day. Naked bodies here and there are part of the norm. At times the image is appropriate and beautiful, other times not. No Puritan hangups in the locker rooms at the pool either. This day she saw an ad for an art exhibit with a painting of a naked upper body of a voluptuous woman.

Me: Breasts. They are called breasts. Breasts are an incredible and beautiful part of a woman's body. No matter the size or shape or color, always lovely, Baby Girl, and breasts are normal and natural and should never be called gross. They are a wonderful thing, breasts. And you know what. . .they are for women only. . . one day you'll have breasts . . .

yadda. yadda. yadda.

And so I continued, likely for much longer than my 7-year-old girl was willing to listen. We've named body parts correctly since she was a toddler, so it just irks me when she uses a word like "boobies" and then refers to them as "gross." I also already worry about body image issues with her. Feeling defeated, I expound the virtue of the breast for quite some time. Meanwhile, her little friend is in the car and is likely getting quite an unwanted earful. I notice the awkwardness in her blind stare through the car window and wrap up my little lesson.

I stop.
I breathe.
There is a pregnant pause, followed by an honest inquiry:

Young One: Mamma, is Sophia adopted?

I feel annoyed that she has completely changed the subject without comment or acknowledgement of my virtuous, fact-filled lecture.

Me: No. Don't you remember when Luciana was pregnant with Sophia? Her tummy growing from month to month?

Young One: I just remember you once told me that breasts get bigger when mommies have babies. Luciana has the smallest breasts I have ever seen, Mamma. That's why I want to know if Sophia is adopted.

.................................

So.
She does listen.
Mostly.
Or at least she is good at making observations and connections.
Heaven help us.

(True story . . . but names changed to protect the small-chested friend, or, maybe, Young One ;)

La Zucca

2011-09-04T17:12:00.000+02:00

..............................

Ghizzole Festa della Zucca

Pretty & Delish
What else do you need on a Friday night in the nearby paese?

I suppose this means Fall is upon us.
I wish that Mother Nature would turn down the thermostat a bit.
Can we say "Heat Wave"?

................................

Summer Camp (with Italians)

2011-09-02T23:52:00.000+02:00

Centro Estivo // Summer Camp

When I picked them up Friday afternoon, they excitedly proclaimed: "We are Indians! We are Indians!"

I noticed the rest of the tribe and a couple of chiefs flitting about -- painted faces, feathers and headbands, bows and arrows; I mumbled something in Italian about Native Americans, Indigenous Peoples, First Nations People.

They just screamed louder: "Siamo Indiani! Siamo Indiani! Siamo Indiani!"

Sometimes, you just have to go with the flow in the moment and save the lesson for later. Political correctness is an American phenomenon, at least as it pertains to old school cowboys and Indians in Italy.

....................................

{ this moment }

2011-09-02T06:22:00.000+02:00

corner view

2011-08-30T21:00:00.000+02:00

:: change ::

Before

After

.............

The back is even shorter.
Lovin' it.

I embrace change.
Do you?

............

For more Corner Views, visit Francesca.

Late August

2011-08-27T23:54:00.001+02:00

Finally faced the neglected and (mostly) dead garden this morning.

Found these there, too.

Next Stop, New Orleans

2011-08-26T23:00:00.000+02:00

Our first stop in Louisiana was in New Orleans, where we spent an entire weekend in a fancy hotel directly on the streetcar line, a hotel that I was able to book for next to nothing by using this quirky site. Did you know that there is a strategy involved in getting exactly the place you want? Google it. It worked for me.

...............................

Young One spent the first day and night with us, and then she went out to the country with her grands, leaving the man and I free to roam in search of music until the wee hours.

It rained the entire weekend.

We usually don't seek out famous-name, chef-owned restaurants when we visit. Come on, it's New Orleans, as long as you steer clear of Bubba Gump's Shrimp Company on Decatur, then you are likely going to be okay. This year we did visit both Mondo, of Susan Spicer fame, and Luke, a John Besh restaurant.

Both were fabulous.

But you know... I'd be perfectly happy with oysters, all day, every day. We ate these at Felix's, standing at the bar as the guy shucked them for us. With an ice cold Abita Amber on tap. In heaven. With friends. Everyone in NOLA is your friend. Well. Except for the NOPD. At least they have cool rides. Ahh, the Vespa.

We happened upon a small place called Mena's Palace on Chartres that served up a mean plate of red beans and rice and a spot-on Greek-inspired Creole tomato salad, with capers, olives, feta, and peppers. Here too, super friendly people. I did chuckle a bit when the lady seated at the table next to me asked for the carb count on the poboy she ordered. She wanted to see the packaging for the bread. This ain't bread from Winn Dixie, Honey!

At Luke I ordered a crabmeat and asparagus omelet for breakfast. Well. What do you think? Worthy of an almost Iron Chef? He was a finalist in season one, you know. I wonder if that is validating for a chef ... this whole Iron Chef business.

What's NOLA without a Lucky Dog?

Finally, we had cafe au lait and beignets and made a trip via streetcar to the Garden District to both Tracey's, for poboys and boudin balls and to Superior, for Tex Mex with a Louisiana twist; I had crawfish enchiladas. We stopped in at Johnny's PoBoys in the Quarter where we had an incredible bowl of seafood gumbo, served in a styrofoam cup, mind you. Yum, nonetheless. For the best Bloody Mary, try The Organic Banana in the French Market. Perfectly spicy.

......................................

We found the music.
It's not really difficult in this city as it's around every corner.
One night we headed down to the Blue Nile on Frenchman Street
and listened to the Brass-a-holics.

We're so damn cool and hip.
Can you dig it?

........................................

Up Next: Us, in New Orleans

2011-08-26T07:08:00.001+02:00

NOPD Vespa

No, we aren't in New Orleans. We are here, and I am finishing up my first week back at the school after a too-short summer; the summers are always too short, you know. I hope to continue posts about our summer in the States this weekend, beginning with NOLA.

How about that Vespa, eh? I saw several of them sitting outside of the main station in the French Quarter. On another note -- Young One has recently added police officer to her list of potential grown-up careers, albeit only for the donuts. I kid you not.

............................

Happy Weekend, Friends :)

corner view

2011-08-23T06:30:00.000+02:00

:: passion ::

Every.Single.Time.
We head out for gelato, both Richard and I study the choices.
Every.Single.Time.
We select the Bacio.
Every.Single.Time.
Dark Chocolate and Hazelnut Goodness.
Every.Single.Time.
Both of us.

IDK. You might call that a "passion."

This weekend we finally made Bacio gelato at home using this recipe.

I say
Feed the Passion.

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For more Corner Views: Jane, Dana, Bonny, Joyce, Ian,Francesca, Theresa, Cate, Kasia,Otli, Trinsch, Isabelle, Janis, Kari,jgy, Lise, Dorte, McGillicutty,Sunnymama, Ibb, Kelleyn, Ninja,Sky, RosaMaria, Juniper, Valerie,Sammi, Cole, Don, WanderChow,FlowTops, Tania, Tzivia, Kristin,Laura, Guusje, Susanna, Juana,Elsa, Nadine

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*Opps . . . just realized I posted this a day early. That's what waking up at 5 am will do to you.

about that cake

2011-08-22T09:12:00.001+02:00

I told the gathered Italian neighbors that I would bring a chocolate cake with a twist, a secret ingredient that I would not reveal until everyone had at least one good bite of the cake. Oh, the suspense was thick!

Marco joked that it might be an ingredient that sent us all to the hospital.
His wife, Cristiana, lamented that at least the hospital has air conditioning, a good thing in this heatwave.
Rosy, allergic to all cheese except for mozzarella di bufala, inquired if there would be any cheese in the recipe.
Ida and Zia just smiled and shook their heads, agreeing to at least a taste. I never know what they are really thinking. They do love my pecan pie, so they are likely truly willing to give my cake a shot.

I did exactly as I promised. After a somewhat disjointed, American and Italian, potluck-style meal that included both pasta with mussels and BBQ chicken sliders, grilled hotdogs and grilled polenta, I brought it out.

Everyone had a taste.
Everyone gave the proverbial two thumbs up, some even asking for seconds.
Except for Pino. For Pino, it's never good enough unless it's exactly the way they make it in Naples. He suggested (several times) that if I would only add almond to the cake it would be just like the Torta Caprese found in Naples. Exactly.

And then I told them, and a hush came over the crowd . . . except for Pino, who was sure I said zucchero (sugar) and looked at me in puzzlement. "Isn't that in all cakes? Don't forget the almonds next time. This cake would be so much better with almonds."
This, from a man who probably couldn't make himself a bowl of cereal.

.........................................

And if you want to know, you'll have to go and visit Daisey for the secret ingredient.
And while you are there, check out this woman's creative talent.
Ah - mazing, she is.

Look at her Super Princess Cape and Mask and this Super Bat Cape.

Are you local?

She's teaching classes at the Art Center where she'll guide you in making these fab creations.
I would be there, but I have this pesky thing called work to attend to, starting tomorrow.

Friday Night in the Paese

2011-08-20T21:25:00.001+02:00

(: Sure is good to be home :)

And, oh, I'll give you the low down on that fabulous cake and it's "secret ingredient" in a day or two. For now, just salivate.

To Virginia We Go, Hi-Ho!

2011-08-19T22:00:00.000+02:00

We spent a bit of time in the States this summer visiting family in both Virginia and Louisiana, and we even found time for a road trip to Arkansas, of all places.

..........................................

And how does a seven-year-old girl fill her days will visiting family in Virginia?

She eats as many donuts as possible because "they don't make these in Italy, you know."

She brings joy to her Grandma with seven year old antics.

She creates a wish list while visiting the newly opened American Girl store at Tyson's Corner.

She explores Civil War canons, while trying not to complain about the heat, at the Manassas National Battlefield Park.

She rides in the "way back" of the biggest car she have ever seen on the way to see the sunrise at the ocean.

She tries her hand at fishing in Sandbridge, Virginia with her very patient Uncle John. They catch nothing, but it really doesn't matter, does it?

She bravely leads a (short-lived) ocean kayak expedition into Back Bay in search of wildlife.

She plays cards with much, much, much older cousins and their friends. She learns some choice words. But that doesn't really matter either, does it?

And she takes flight in Aunt Karen's pool, courtesy of her strong and buff father.

Not bad. Not bad at all.
For a seven-year-old girl visiting her family in Virginia.

And after nearly 10 days, she boards a plane to a destination further south, New Orleans, Louisiana.

Dining in Caves & Underground Exploration in Puglia

2011-08-19T09:19:00.001+02:00

Late-night Gelato in Ostuni

Between beach visits, we also visited the city of Ostuni where we sought out La Candina de Seppe Tise based on the quasi-review of the Frugal Traveler from The New York Times. We were there a couple of weeks after the Frugal Traveler visited on his summer tour of the Med on a budget, and the owners and chef had no idea that he was writing for the NYT; I suppose he does travel mostly incognito. We liked it there. The food was fresh and well prepared. Our waiter was very accommodating to Young One, who usually has an idea of something not listed on the menu. (We are creating a monster, I know.) And the setting . . . eating in a cave, essentially, was unique enough to be fun. Richard shared the article on my iPhone once we finished dining, and they were all (even the chef came out) extremely pleased with the publicity. As it turns out, this is a fairly newly-opened restaurant.

Entrance to Grotte di Castellana

We also visited the Grotte di Castellana where we took a short, albeit, heavily-monitored tour of a system of caves. In our party of eleven, there were two guides, with the second guide watching every. single. move. we made. I suppose not everybody follows the cave rules thus necessitating her presence. Jeeesss. The heavy surveillance nonwithstanding, the caves are a magical underground world worth a visit. Should you be interested in a visit to hell, a performance called Hell in the Cave, based on Dante's Divine Comedy runs periodically in the cave. Looks cool, but not for me.

.................................

By the time our departure day arrived, I was checking out real estate on the Internet. Puglia is purported to still be "cheap" compared to other places in Italy . . . "cheap" is, of course, very relative, but a girl can dream.

corner view

2011-08-17T07:39:00.010+02:00

Corner View :: Tiny

Sunrise in Sandbridge, VA // July 2011

The vastness, the beauty, the power, the perfection . . . could make one feel "tiny" in comparison.

For More Corner Views, visit our host at Fuoriborgo and . . .

Jane, Dana, Bonny, Joyce, Ian,Francesca, Theresa, Cate, Kasia,Otli, Trinsch, Isabelle, Janis, Kari,jgy, Lise, Dorte, McGillicutty,Sunnymama, Ibb, Kelleyn, Ninja,Sky, RosaMaria, Juniper, Valerie,Sammi, Cole, Don, WanderChow,FlowTops, Tania, Tzivia, Kristin,Laura, Guusje, Susanna, Juana,Elsa, Nadine

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Corner View is a weekly project started by Jane in Spain and now hosted by Francesca in Italy. Participants from around the world post theme-based images each Wednesday. An original Corner View participant, I took a bit of leave from the project. I'm back! Join us, won't you?

Next week's theme is "passion."

Alberobello: UNESCO World Heritage Site in Puglia

2011-08-16T09:27:00.001+02:00

"The trulli, limestone dwellings found in the southern region of Puglia, are remarkable examples of drywall (mortarless) construction, a prehistoric building technique still in use in this region. The trulli are made of roughly worked limestone boulders collected from neighbouring fields. Characteristically, they feature pyramidal, domed or conical roofs built up of corbelled limestone slabs." -- "The Trulli of Alberbello." UNESCO World Heritage Center.

"Alberobello, the city of drystone dwellings known as trulli , is an exceptional example of vernacular architecture. It is one of the best preserved and most homogeneous urban areas of this type in Europe. Its special features, and the fact that the buildings are still occupied, make it unique. It also represents a remarkable survival of prehistoric building techniques." "The Trulli of Alberbello." UNESCO World Heritage Center.

"These buildings were constructed using roughly worked limestone boulders collected from neighbouring fields and, later, the large water-collecting basins in the area. They were built directly on the underlying natural rock, using exclusively the drystone technique. The walls that form the rectangular rooms are double, with rubble cores, and are pierced by small windows. Fireplaces, ovens and alcoves are recessed into the thickness of the walls. The roofs, which are also double-skinned, spring directly from the walls, simple squinches allowing the transition from the rectangular to the circular or oval sections of the roofs themselves." -- "The Trulli of Alberbello." UNESCO World Heritage Center.

"Tradition has it that drystone walling was imposed upon the new settlers so that their houses could be quickly dismantled. This served two purposes: recalcitrant householders could be dispossessed easily and, later, it would be possible to avoid taxation on new settlements. In the latter case the buildings could be reconstructed equally rapidly. This is known to have occurred in 1644 to thwart tax inspectors sent by the King of Naples. However, historical and comparative analysis suggests that this technique was no more than a minimal physical response to local conditions and circumstances, later to be exploited for fiscal or punitive purposes." --"The Trulli of Alberbello." UNESCO World Heritage Center.

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And finally, a video from UNESCO:

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Linking up today at

Buon Ferragosto

2011-08-15T09:34:00.007+02:00

Huge holiday in this country today . . . right up there with Christmas and Easter, in fact.

Yes, I made that!

Thanks to some figs from Mirella, we will be celebrating later with this Fig and Almond Tart @ home while the rest of the country is either in the mountains or at the sea. After the summer away that we've had, home is the only place I really want to be right about about now, holiday or not!

Buona Festa a Tutti!

Forcatella = Yum

2011-08-14T09:27:00.004+02:00

Just north of Torre Canne before Savelletri, is an area called Forcatella, a place where local fishermen serve up the freshest seafood in the area in quasi-temporary structures right on the edge of the sea. Simply awesome. Check out Sara's post at Charming Italy for more information about Forcatella. We went there mostly on her recommendation and that of our host, Gregorio.

The strong winds kept us inside for our lunch. If you are looking for "fancy" or a printed menu of choices, then you should skip this stop. However, if you want fresh, caught-that-morning, local, delectable food at a fair price, by all means, give this place a visit. May I suggest that you order the round of antipasta for a taste of it all. If we are ever even near this area of Puglia again, we will return. Then again, we could live solely on seafood and be perfectly happy, so this review could be a bit biased. Sorry that I can't offer you a description of exactly what we ate -- I should have taken notes in June. Just know that it was all delicious.

With about four or five places to choose from, we headed to "Riccilandia," in search of that day's catch of ricci di mare or sea urchin. To our dismay, none were caught that day (because of the rough seas?), so they weren't a choice. Love that -- a place essentially called "Sea Urchin Land" with no sea urchins. No really, I do. If the fishermen can't get them, then they can't get them . . . basta. No imports from Chile or China. (Did you know that frozen crawfish from China is sold across Louisiana? And it's often cheaper than local crawfish?)

Still have my fingers crossed that we will return him some day :) Have I convinced you that you want to join us?

Mare Adriatico

2011-08-12T22:29:00.001+02:00

We hung out at two beach spots over the course of the week: Torre Canne and Torre Santa Sabina. In Torre Canne we spent time at both the public beach and a private lido; no private lidos exist (in late June) at the small Torre Santa Sabina. I convinced Richard that we should haul our umbrella and chairs from Vicenza, and he reluctantly agreed. I say reluctantly because my man, my wonderful man ... he is many things, a beach lover is not one of them.

He loves the ocean, the water, the lake, the river, the babbling brook . . . mostly from a distance, or from his fabulous balcony in Pozzuoli that had the views of Capri and Ischia. The good old days.

Sand? He despises it. As a result, his idea of an okay time at a beach includes a private lido with a covered walking path to the lettini, or lounge chairs. Oh, and there should also be a sharply dressed attendant to take drink and snack orders. Who wants to carry all that stuff, anyway?

Young One and I are much more flexible.

I like the public beaches.
I like ~~for him~~ to haul our stuff.

We did both styles of beach visits.

Compromise, that's what makes it work.
In the end, he usually compromises the most.
I'm lucky. I know.

We really enjoyed the beach scenes in this area of Puglia. With the high winds, the open waters at Torre Canne were perfect for fun with the tube, while the protected cove at Torre Santa Sabina allowed for a bit of a calmer experience. In both cases the water was crystal clear and the beaches clean. The high winds did keep us away from Torre Canne a couple of times.

I liked it because it was simple, and at Torre Santa Sabina, very natural and entirely low key. These beaches were full of Italians, locals and those on vacation, and we didn't hear many foreign voices like our own. We had plenty of space at the public beaches and didn't have to fight for a spot. At Torre Santa Sabina, nearly the entire beach cleared at lunchtime as people returned to their homes or rentals for lunch and rest. The new crowd started arriving at about 14:00.

People were in good moods. They were relaxed. They were happy. They were worshipping the sun. Life was good. The best part? Not too many people. Yet.

Reportedly, Puglia has much more to offer in terms of beautiful beaches; the further south one travels, the better. Or so I am told. Friends visited the Gargano peninsula, which is a bit north of where we were, during the same week and reported excellent beaches there, too.

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Up Next: Seafood in Italy at Its Freshest

Loco + Rotondo

2011-08-11T12:19:00.002+02:00

The southern hilltop town, Locorotondo, from Latin "locus rotundus," (round place) earns its name from the very circular nature of its formation. Ancient alleyways spread in circles from the centrally-located principle piazza and church in this white-washed city. Not to be confused with the larger, official citta bianca, Ostuni, another white city we visited during the week, Locorotondo is the place where you will want to get lost with your camera, or maybe your lover, not your whining 7-year-old girl, just at sunrise or sunset.

Locorotondo is in the province of Bari.

We rolled into town late Thursday morning, market day in Locorotondo, and after a stroll through the lively market, we wandered a bit through the narrow paths of the old town. While I'm generally not very interested in most market crap (Ouch!) in my neck of the woods, save the consumables, I do fancy markets outside of our region, if only for their variation on the theme of crap. Bad attitudes aside, a southern Italian market is a akin to a stage promising a show with a delightful cast of characters; this one did not fail us.

We bought cheese and salami, tomatoes and peaches, chick peas and lentils. A favorite was the taralli available in flavors such as fennel, pizza, onion, garlic, and even a sweet version with almonds and glazed sugar. I found a sassy bag perfect for my sister (Made in China, sorry Sis), and a simple beach hat per moi.

Outside of the ancient city, we also visited a couple of wineries, if only to stock up with a case or two to bring home. We are "those people" when hosting a dinner party: "Yes, this is a XYZ bottle of wine that we discovered while touring the delightful countryside of Puglia; 'twas marvelous darling, simply mawvelous. It's a 200X, and blah, blah, blah. . . ." Not! We are more like this: "Does it taste good? Will I have a headache tomorrow? Can I fill your glass?" We encountered some of "those people," wine snobs, in the States this summer and found them to be insufferable and quite comical. The people at the Cantina Sociale di Locorotondo, by the way, were by far the friendliest.

I always enjoy images of wine in plastic jugs or bags in boxes (which is gaining popularity, according to the New York Times.) Just like a regular filling station, locals bring glass bottles or demijonhs and fill 'er up with the local offerings. Wine is for the masses here. No wine snobbery allowed. Mostly.

Just an FYI: A very well-equipped park is located just off the piazza where the market takes place -- lots of swings and climbing equipment. Oh, and many benches, too!

What else can I say? GO! You won't be sorry. No, really. I'm serious. I loved this place. We all did. Even our, "I-just-want-to-swing-all-day-why-do-I-have-to-walk-through-these-streets-while-mommy-takes-photos-where-is-the-pool-can-I-have-gelato?" seven-year-old girl.

A nice shot of said girly enjoying her time in Locorotondo, which is a direct result of bribery or threats, I assure you.

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Up Next: To the Water

a week in Puglia

2011-08-09T10:00:00.003+02:00

Summer started with a week in the Puglia region of southern Italy with one goal in mind: relax and recharge. Okay, so a bit of exploration was a part of the plan, too, but the main goal was to unwind after a long school year with a sojourn void of strict schedules and a long list of "must-do's." Wouldn't you know it? Puglia is the perfect place for this.

Aside from the selection of the lodging, neither of us conducted much detailed research for this trip. (So, who am I kidding? Richard never conducts research before a trip. That would be my vice. I totally cramp his style.) We booked a week at Masseria Selvaggi in an apartment in a renovated farm house, or masseria, in the countryside near Cisternino. While I generally don't report much on lodging when we travel, I must share this place with you (and the rest of the world.)

It is charming, traditional, clean, locally owned, fairly priced, old-made-new ... many of the things we seek for in week-long lodging. However, by far ... by far, by far, by far the thing that makes this place a gem that we will return to is the porprieter, Gregorio. I cannot possibly accurately describe the wonders of this man and his team. Let me try.

A native of the area, Gregorio is a man with a wealth of information who is ready for any questions presented to him. (I had many ... remember, no research.) He is kind, knowledgable, and delightfully helpful -- all of these without being intrusive. He tolerated our prying questions about the quality of his olive oil without taking offense and sent us to a superb caseificio for burrata. He checked beach conditions for us each morning, suggested dining options, sketched directions on napkins, led us to grocery stores and wineries. He is genuine. He is sincere. A kind and gentle soul. I like him, a lot. (And in case you were wondering, he does speak English.)

Though each apartment includes a kitchen, breakfast is served in a dining room each morning. The offerings were simple but local and fresh, and quite varied: farm-fresh eggs, prosciutto and melon, home-baked goods, figs still warm from the morning sun, and coffee to order (or tall glasses of milk for Young One) were among the choices. Gregorio helped guests plan excursions primarily during this breakfast time, but he was also available throughout the day.

We spent time each day at the pool located steps from our door, a pool surrounded by a traditional Pugliese stone wall and a collection of trees (Oak, I think) and a giant prickly-pear cactus. A grove of ancient olive trees and golden wheat fields surround the wall on all sides for as far as my eye could see. Though all of the apartments were booked during our stay, we often felt like we were alone at a spa in the middle of paradise as the other guests scurried off to the beaches each morning. (No, I'm not exaggerating. It was THAT good for us.)

Though the property is located within an olive grove, a lush mini-forest with trails for exploring exists there as well. Explore we did.

The only drawback of a place like this is the general absence of potential playmates for Young One. She did connect with a tween from Milan one afternoon in the pool, allowing us time to read and a three-year-old boy from Bolzano another evening while both families prepared dinner. You know, the absence of a slew of others allowed us time to be together, to connect, to chat without distractions. The rest of our summer was mostly without these opportunities as Young One ditched us for her (often) doting relatives.

We left with plans to return here -- same place, longer stay. We generally do not return to most places we visit, even when we have great intentions. (This place is one exception.) I have my fingers crossed that a return here is in the stars for our little party of three.

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Up Next: Outings

Yes, we did leave this little paradise a time or two. You didn't think we could tolerate that much alone and down time, did you? I mean, we were there for seven nights.

in the paese: 51 (the end)

2011-08-07T06:00:00.005+02:00

Apartment for Sale
Won't you be my neighbor?

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Hello Friends! That is all she wrote, the fat lady is singing, and this "in the paese" project is over! I plan to be back to regular posting soon ... hope you can stand the "What I Did on My Summer Vacation" theme that will likely overtake this space for a bit. If you are even still here, that is. Hello, hello, hello. Anybody out there? Nod if you can hear me.

Whew. It's good to be on the way home.

in the paese: 50

2011-08-06T11:00:00.000+02:00

Figs in June

in the paese: 49

2011-08-06T04:00:00.000+02:00

On the Daily Route