Strange Fruit

Every once in a while, I come across some kind of fruit or vegetable that I either have never seen, never eaten, or never dared to prepare. But seeing as how I am intrinsically curious and always up for a challenge, I like to give it a try. I am actually quite a bit more daring than my husband, but when I was struck with fascination at the container of bovine nerves, he quickly put the kibosh on it. At least I have gotten him to like vegetables enough to conquer the plant world. So what would you guess this is? (I have not altered these pics, it really is this color)

Making Herbes de Provence

One of my favorite things to cook with is Herbes de Provence. I use it in just about everything. But, as you may know, this seemingly normal blend of culinary herbs can get quite pricey. It’s just something about having a French name that adds a few to the price. Don't think the price reflects import charges either, because the other day I saw a tiny jar at my local grocery store for almost 4 euros!! That is an outrageous price for herbs in Italy and I'm only a few hours from Provence! Fortunately for me, my garden in Sicily has the perfect climate for these herbs and planting them was my first order of duty (after clearing about 15 years of weeds) when we moved in last year. 

After a recent weekend trip to back Sicily, I found my garden overgrown with lavender, sage, rosemary, thyme and oregano! I immediately started snipping away in order to bring back copious fruits of my labor. If you have your own herb garden, you can easily make this mixture as well. 

No Way Perrier!

This comes from a collection of cynical writings I did while at University in Wisconsin.
These are "Tales From the Tundra, circa 2000:

Ever since I first stepped foot in Central Wisconsin, I have seen these green bumper stickers on the back of beat up, rusted out American cars that read: “NO WAY PERRIER!” And ever since I saw the first one, I have wondered what it meant. Was it something against that damn bourgeois sparkling water, a statement against those damn Frenchman that come to our country to have sex with our wives, or was it something totally unrelated? I have wondered this for so long, yet everyone I asked didn’t have the faintest clue as to what I was talking about. By the end of this last semester here, I had completely given up on my quest for truth.

Low and behold, my first night out with my friend last weekend, an older man next to me at a bar struck up a conversation with me. After a while of discussing random topics with this old man (whom was quite talkative after throwing a few back), he brought up how Point Beer (the local Stevens Point brewery) used to taste really good until the city made them switch from natural spring water to city water. He explained that there is a naturally occurring spring not far from Stevens Point that produces some of the purest, cleanest and most mineral rich water. Then he told me that it became so popular that Perrier wanted to build a plant nearby to bottle the water. Well, the townspeople did not like that idea! They didn’t want those damn French people to take all their water! Thus the bumper stickers creatively displaying their dismay with a strong statement like: “NO WAY PERRIER!”

I told the man how delighted I was to finally know what that bumper sticker meant, and he was happy to have helped me. Then I pointed out that it was good to know that Perrier really bottles natural spring water, but he didn’t seem to appreciate that idea. Plus, telling him how much I loved France and French people didn’t really help either. He wasn’t very talkative after that. 

You think he had one of those bumper stickers?

High Flying Clothes

If you live in Italy, you hang your clothes from your balcony or window. It's just the way it is. But it gets interesting when you live on high floors. The higher up your apartment, the more dizzying it is to hang your clothes and the longer your stuff has to fall. It is not uncommon, if fact, to encounter a lone sock or shirt on the street. Common courtesy here is to pick up the item and stick it in the building's mailbox. Or, just step over it and ignore it like most people do. Fortunately, this has never been a problem for me--until today. I was hanging up a sock, and the clothes pin suddenly snapped out of my fingers and to my dismay, I watched it plummet three stories to the ground below.  Ah, my first clothesline victim...at least it wasn't a piece of clothing. But it serves as a good wake-up call! 

Gypsies!

This afternoon I heard the distant sound of a trumpet playing a haunting tune. Curious, I looked out the windows, trying to see if I could find where it was coming from. I checked from the balcony—nothing; kitchen window—nothing; bathroom window—much louder but I couldn’t see anything. Then I heard some drumming…could it be a procession? Maybe it was some saint day that I was not aware of (I’m actually not aware of most saint days—SO un-Italian of me). I finally gave up and continued cleaning paint drops from the furniture.

After a few minutes, the music got so loud it was like it was right below the windows. I ran to the kitchen and peered down to the parking lot. There was no procession, it was a small gypsy band serenading the neighborhood. So that's where the music was coming from! They were really good! 

Gypsies have a lot of connotations attached to them--mostly negative--like the widely known issue of pick-pocketing and their chaotic, messy camp sites that caused their recent expulsions from France. But the most common element of this group of nomadic people is their ability to play music. From the subways of Paris, to alley ways in small towns, to squares throughout Europe, gypsies play great music. When I was living in France, I always loved that my caffé crème or my salade de chèvre chaud would be accompanied by lively music played on a fiddle or an accordion. And I would always give them change because hearing live music brightens my day and that is certainly worth the change in my pocket, right?

But today, I didn't even need to leave the house! My apartment was filled with great music for at least 10 minutes and after I dropped a little baggy of change, I was serenaded from below my window. Click play to here my serenade...

Springing Up Gaddafi

The Fiuggi Terme (hot springs) are some of the oldest springs in Italy. The Romans cherished the waters, and ever since the Romans, Fiuggi water has been bathed in, “taken”, bottled and even prescribed by doctors for it’s high mineral content, ability to flush uric acid from your body and it's purifying affect on the kidneys. Even the Servizio Sanitario Nazionale (national health system) recognizes the water as a treatment for kidney stones and urinary tract infections. Today, most grocery stores and markets in Italy carry the green glass bottles on their shelves. Sangimini is the company that runs the bottling of the water with strict quality controls and the resort/spa.

Let’s-a-Make-a-Meat-a-Balls!

Spaghetti and meatballs-- it’s a classic. It’s the first thought most Americans have when they hear Italian food. That, and the red and white checkered tablecloths, the candle in the Chianti bottle and “That’s Amore” by Dean Martin playing in the background. But even though this all-too-familiar scene for Americans has very little to do with actual Italian culture, I thought I would take you through the steps of making some authentic polpette (meatballs).

When the fridge is bare...

Recent remodeling in our apartment had caused us to stay elsewhere for the past week. However, we are now back in our apartment and loving our fresh new bedroom and bathroom. But our fridge is bare and grocery shopping doesn't happen until this evening. So what do I eat for lunch? As my mother has recently discovered (due to living in Norway without a car), the most creative dishes are made when your fridge is empty! So I bypassed my empty fridge and went straight for the cupboard. Garlic, chilli pepper flakes, olive oil, and black pepper. That should work! In goes the last 125 grams of orecchiete (ear-shaped pasta) to the boiling water and I start browning my garlic and chili pepper. Toss it all together, top it with a drizzle of Balsamico and freshly grated Grana Padano. How was it? Amazing!!

Demolition Derby

On my way home this afternoon, I passed a school that has been on the corner of via Venezia and via Alberto Ferreri for decades. Ok, there was no derby, but they were in the process of tearing down the building. Of course, the first thing I noticed was the crowd of spectators with their arms extended, holding their cell-phones to take video of the destruction. Most likely, these transfixed spectators were once students inside that depressing, post-war structure and may have dreamed many times of this particular moment. Maybe they were lingering to give a deep sense of satisfaction to their inner-child. Or, maybe some were melancholy, remembering their teachers and their little desks. But whatever their motives, there we stood, watching the claw break through the walls and the floors like they were crackers. [You can click to enlarge the picture for more detail]

What Time Is It?

Today I was out early to run errands and get groceries for lunch. But after walking all over town from the calzalaio (shoe repair shop) to the market, I wasn’t sure what time it was. I had to have lunch ready by one o’clock and it struck me—what if I’m running late? I pull up my sleeve to look at my watch--not there. I didn’t put my watch on this morning! Crap, what time is it? Just then, as if God had heard my plea…the church which I happened to be walking in front of gleefully answered my question. 

Push play to hear how I knew it was 12 noon...

Addio 2010!

On the very last day of the year, one cannot go about like it is just any other day. One must be reflective on the previous 364 days and full of hope and dreams for the next. Plus, you need to be celebratory, even if especially if your previous 364 days were difficult, arduous, stressful and exhausting--like mine. If this last year was not amongst your finest, December 31^st is a particularly fantastic day! It signifies that all the muck of the year is finally over and tomorrow starts everything fresh. For my husband and I, we were filled with a sense of relief and optimism that we haven’t felt in a while. We were so happy to see 2010 come to an end, that we started off the day by celebrating! Illy cappuccini and fresh berry cornetti at Pasticceria da Sylvana on corso Cavour was the perfect start to this final day of 2010. I hope you enjoyed your final day as well.

Norway+Italy=Polar Opposites

I have to say how very impressed I am with Norwegian people. Their culture, their mentality, and their hyper state of logic is so refreshing. On the outside, Norwegians can seem a bit curt and maybe not quite warm (and they will be the first to tell you about that). But when you talk with someone, or know them personally, they are the most honest, warm, caring, jovial and straightforward people I have ever known. Time after time, from strangers in grocery stores, to paramedics, Norwegians prove themselves to be stand-up, caring people. When you make a friendship, you are brought in and the honesty and openness of their lives, feelings and life events just blows me away.

Norwegians have no need to show a façade or be passive-aggressive. They tell you what they think and what is on their mind, and you always know where you stand with them. They may seem abrupt or even rude by American standards, but it is fantastic! There is no subtext, no treachery, no hiding behind lame stories or excuses. They are honest, man! And when you are injured and in need of help, they are caring, supportive, and light-hearted all at the same time.

Polar Bear Pride

Norwegians have a thing for Polar bears--especially northern Norwegians. I was recently going through some picture albums and came across a few pics I snapped of some of the MANY stuffed polar bears that are scattered all around the small city of Tromsø. (If you've never heard of Tromsø, check out my mini-video: Live From Tromsø, Norway!) Polar bears are not only a part of their history, but also part of their identity and pride.

Tromsø is known for many things, including the land of the midnight sun, having the northern-most university in Europe, called "the Paris of the north" (I completely disagree with that one), the most joked about by locals is being a city where polar bears roam the streets. While this was true a very long time ago, it has of course become old lore. It is still true for some of the northern-most islands of Norway, and I have actually met a few people from islands where polar bear sightings are common (and they're very proud of this). But the only polar bears you'll see in Tromsø are stuffed.

Norway Is Big Sky Country

Before coming to Norway, when I thought of the most beautiful sunsets I have seen, I would think of three or four that stuck in memory. But now, being amazed by breathtaking sunsets and generally amazing skies (even at night) is so common to me that I have lost count.

During a recent conversation with a Tromsø local, I was discussing how incredible it was to have such amazing sunsets as a normal, common occurrence. To my amazement, it was explained to me that these are not just common, but predictable by season. Apparently, during the late summer months, when the sunsets start happening again, they paint the sky with bright pinks and magenta. Fall brings warm, golden sunsets like fire and the winter brings pale pastel pinks as a soft backdrop to the bright white snow. And it is true! I have been in Norway from August to the end of November and I certainly have seen the sunsets change with the season. When I first arrived, the sun was not setting until around 3am--which was really more of a twilight than a full on sunset.

Chernobyl Chicken

This comes from a collection of cynical writings I did while at University in Wisconsin. These are "Tales From the Tundra, circa 2000:

As I sat on the hard futon, blindly staring at the local news the other night, I saw something that I just could not believe. Please understand that I usually avoid the local news here in Central Wisconsin because it is just so painful to watch. Bad lighting, bad audio, lame stories, etc. Unfortunately, I was a captive audience awaiting the miserable weather forecast, when all of a sudden a story of “local color” filled the screen.

If I may make a brief interruption to remind you about the couple of problems that California has had with environmental pollution over the years. Things like the DDT spraying that eventually led to the problems with eagle eggs; toxic waste dumping by evil corporations that polluted the water and ocean, and numerous oil spills that killed thousands of cute little furry animals and birds. We are quite aware of the problems that may arise from pollution, but when there’s a problem, or symptoms of a problem it usually gets handled and cleaned up. Of course there were numerous jokes made about frogs with six legs and babies with arms growing out of their head, but the problems were always taken seriously.

I’m sure you’re all just dying to know what this story was, right? Well, it started off showing a picture of a very large egg. An egg that wasn’t quite as large as an Ostrich egg, but certainly comparable. The reporter appeared at a home in a small town where Mr. and Mrs. Wryzshingzrgvski’s chicken had laid this enormous egg. As soon as the camera started rolling, the wife broke the egg over a bowl, excited that she could make scrambled eggs for the whole family with just one egg. To her dismay, all this clear goo oozed out and produced ANOTHER normal sized egg inside. Mmmm…..those whites are full of protein, you know! And yes, they did eat the egg.

At this point, I was understandably speechless. I waited for the “investigative journalist” to give the scoop on the local aluminum plant that must be dumping their waste illegally. However, when it came time for the commentary from the intelligent anchor, once again, I was left dumbfounded. Little Miss Goody tried to make a cute little joke saying: “I feel bad for that chicken! Ha, ha, ha!”

YEAH....

If this happened in California, there would be several groups showing up to check the water, test the food, and walk around with Geiger counters to measure radiation levels. But here in the Tundra, it’s a funny little story that warms the heart.

Chestnuts Everywhere!

As my last post showed, autumn brings with it some of my favorite foods. In Italy, October starts the season of one my fall favorites—le castagne (chestnuts). So, after another Sunday lunch, bellies full and nothing to do…my husband suggested we go up into the hills above La Spezia and pick some fresh chestnuts. Now, if you have learned from my earlier stories, nothing entices me more than the combination of food and adventure! Plus, I had never seen chestnut trees before--it was a very exciting proposition.

Autumn in Italy

After spending a good deal of time in northern Norway, my return to the splendors of Italy was certainly welcome. But this time, instead of returning to Sicily, I returned to La Spezia, in northern Italy, about an hour east of Genoa and an hour west of Pisa. Markets in Italy are always seasonal, so what you see is what is best. It is fall now, and that brings with it some of my favorite foods. Fresh pumpkin, mushrooms, grapes, apples, chestnuts...these are the fruits of fall.

My first day brought me to the daily vegetable market. Oh, what splendor...

As the old adage says: 

"A picture speaks a thousand words"

Amazing Norway!

Nothing makes traveling more fun than exploring the area and the adventures it brings. This day’s exploration was a drive south of Tromsø, on mainland Norway (Tromsø is an island).  The adventure was where we were going to find food. We didn’t pack anything to eat, assured that we would come across some small restaurant or local diner for some traditional Norwegian food. Not the brightest of ideas, but I digress...

Anyway, we left Krokelvdalen, where my parents are living and headed south. Oh, we also didn’t have a map, so that adds to the adventure quotient, right? After fifteen minutes along the coast, we take a turn up a small street to explore a neighborhood.  It turned out to be a dead end, but we see the first of many little springs that shoot out from the rocks along the road. Waterfalls were everywhere, from full on waterfalls cascading down from snow-topped peaks to little springs trickling all over the place.

Live from Tromsø, Norway!

Fun project! Make a 2-3 minute travel show. Well, I just happened to be visiting a small island in northern Norway, so why not? One day, no script, only my Canon digital camera, a 4gb memory card and my Mac. So what do you think? Do I have what it takes to be the host of a travel show?

I Finally Saw The Moon!

At exactly 3:20am, August 24th, in the light pastel sky, the moon finally peeked over the mountain, showing itself for the first time since I've been here! I just happened to be up and I took a picture of it in celebration. And now, as I am writing this at 3:33am, the moon has almost completely sunken back down below the mountain. Good thing I took a picture!