by Maureen | Apr 29, 2010 | Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Meals, People, Photo of the Day, Photos, Quips
Boy! My two cousins come into town and a riot ensues!
Connie and Gerry arrived yesterday morning, crashed out for a nap then wandered the town for a while. I met them in the evening at their Duomo-close hotel and we goofed around the piazza for a while.
Connie succumbed to the bird food man, mistakenly opening his hand when the guy thrust corn at him. These guys offer you corn, the birds land all over you, your friends take pictures of you with the Duomo in the background and you give corn-man some money.
Our 8:00 dinner reservation was early by Italian standards, and we wanted to find a place for a little pre-dinner drink. We decided to head to the Porta Romana neighborhood and look for a place near the restaurant. Down, down, down, deep into the subway system to the yellow line. We rode 4 stops and ascended to an arch, an old wall, and one of the busy circle roads ringing the city. We walked. And walked. Nothing like a long stroll after a long plane flight. Though we passed several cafés along Monte Nero, it was a frenzied, noisy street and we had hoped for something more quiet. We didn’t find it.
We went on to Osteria La Cala (Viale Monte Nero 63) a bit early, and were the first patrons. The menu review, selection and ordering that followed was every bit the best of comedies and tragedies. Certainly, we tested the patience of the woman serving us! She and I discussed the menu items, specialties of Sardegna, and Connie was sure we had just relayed our life stories twice over.
Finally (!) a wine selection was made, and the waitress made the decision to bring us a selection of hot appetizers, plus raw scampi and prawns for each of us.
The octopus was incredibly tender. The stuffed fish roll was topped with fava beans and delicious. The scampi crudi and gamberi rossi crudi were fresh and light.
Just TRY to get these two guys to decide what to eat! After much discussion and many more “relays of life stories” (according to Connie), we decided on the pescatrice, (that funny fish with the “lure” hanging off its nose), gnocchi with truffles and shrimp, and lorighitas with calamaretti and bottarga.
Bottarga is a dried fish roe sac, often served by being thinly sliced and/or grated over pasta. There are many bottarga variations depending on the fish roe used, place of origin and style of preservation.
We closed the place down. The few other restaurant patrons had left long ago, and we were, of course, undecided about whether to have any dessert or caffé. Our wonderful waitress saved us from ourselves by bringing us a plate of little sweets, a bottle of Mirto digestif right out of the freezer, and 3 little shot glasses. I’d swear that bottle was full when she brought it to us, but there’s surely no way we could have drunk over half the bottle! Apparently, it’s bitter flavor grew on us.
We exchanged handshakes, grazie and much laughter with the restaurant owner, our dear waitress and the kitchen staff. Just outside the front door, we waited for the cable car tram with the intention of riding it to a location near my apartment so the guys could see where I live.
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It was the wrong tram. We ended up back at the Duomo, just as honking cars, canned fog horns and delirious fans started streaming in from all directions and clustered in the Piazza del Duomo, Milan’s living room. We were caught in the middle of it all. Milan’s Inter soccer team had just won against Barcelona and there was some serious celebration to be done. The local polizia hung back at the edge of the crowd to keep an eye on things. At the height of it all, Gerry and I lost Connie, consumed in the crowd.
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We called him, found him and all headed back to their hotel room to get their better cameras. They wanted to come back out and shoot more serious shots, but got bogged down by their technology tethers.
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Connie did his ode to Sir Isaac Newton.
It was fast approaching 1:00 in the morning and I hustled these guys out of their room to walk me to the subway stop at the Duomo. Good thing I did! I caught the LAST westbound red line run before they closed it for the night. I transferred to the green line, got off at Romolo and exited as a guy was standing there ready to lock the gate for the night!
I tell ya, those twins are trouble!
by Maureen | Apr 26, 2010 | Canals, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos, Shopping & Markets
The original plan was to head to Firenze for the day (!), but I caught a short, quick cold Friday night and couldn’t dare think of hopping on the train this morning. (I could hardly get out of bed!) After eventually getting up-and-at-em, I dragged myself up to the Naviglio Grande, knowing they were having their monthly Antiques Market. “OK, fine. I’ll go there instead.”
Glad I did! I found some wonderful things. I’m enthralled with old penmanship and typography, fabric and sewing notions, curious boxes and just plain cool things. Here’s my day’s assortment:
Old post cards, religious medals and pen nibs.
I selected a pencil drawing from 1888, an old travel journal from 1961, report cards from 1907+, a cheese sign, decorative cloth tape, “money substitute papers” from the Comune di Varese from 1926 and some hat forms from Genova.
A bundle of 100-year-old postcards and a Superman school journal from 1980 were included in my day’s treasures. (1980 was 30 years ago! Wow.)
by Maureen | Apr 26, 2010 | Canals, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, People, Photo of the Day, Photos, Shopping & Markets
On the last Sunday of the month, one can browse Antiques and Flea-Market-Finds for as far as the eye can see (2 kilometers), on both sides of the Naviglio Grande, the Grand Canal. (This canal intersects with the Naviglio Pavese, the one I ride my bike along.)
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There is still some limited boat traffic along the canal when they’ve let the water in.
The antique sellers’ stalls also stretch far out into the side streets that branch off of the canal.
Linens? Oh yes. I find plenty. And they’re gorgeous. And the sellers know what they have and charge prices accordingly. There are few, if any, “steals” here. But the high quality linen and cotton, with the embroidery and open-work stitching, are superb examples of the old European linens. (I would love to buy them all up… but for what?)
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Beautiful, finely-crafted instruments of all sorts! The asking price of this Astrolabe was 700 Euro. (Cough, cough. Roughly $1000 right now.) But it was lovely.
I don’t even know what this Parisian instrument is.
These look like porcelain portraits of Mao and his family.
An interesting assortment of portraits.
It is startling to me how often I see the American flag, or some representation of it.
Isn’t this luggage out of the stereotypical “Italian Holiday Travel Movie”?
The dog matches the upholstery. I missed him at first.
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Smile. I’m on Candid Camera (for my Seester.)
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This guy sold horse figures of every sort.
I had been walking around for hours and stumbled upon some finds. “How much for this group of papers and books?” “50 Euro.” “How about 40?” How about 45 and you let me buy you a drink.” I laughed. It caught me completely by surprise. I bought the papers and books for 45 Euro and Graziano and I stepped 10 feet across the cobblestone and had a glass of cold white wine at a Sushi Bar on a hot afternoon and talked for a little while. So funny. But it was a pleasant and charming break.
Cool hat box. (Cool typography.)
As the warm afternoon waned, the cafés started to fill with people enjoying the Milanese aperitivo. The musicians showed up in the old Vicolo dei Lavandai, the washing station of the 19th century where women gathered to scour their clothes against washboard stones as their wash water flowed off into the canal.
Who’da thought I’d see this?! Wait! I should have bought the one a few issues back: Settembre 1957!
Packing up to go home, this man still wore hat, bow tie and white coat as he packed his lamps into a salami box.
So now, do you have an idea of what’s for sale at an Italian Antique/Flea Market?
by Maureen | Apr 23, 2010 | Featured Articles, Introspection, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos, Quips
“My car fits. Doesn’t that make it a parking space?”
“It looks like a parking space.”
“Oh. You mean this is a sidewalk?”
“If I park here in the road, when I come out I can just put the car in gear and go.”
Not ALL Italians are on foot, bike or metro! Seattle cops would meet their yearly budget if they were giving out tickets here for “improper parking”. Sometimes I’m walking along and just crack up at the creative parking I see. This would NEVER go over in the U.S.! But I guess it’s an understood system and it seems to work for everyone and so it’s OK. (It still cracks me up.)
Side note: Stop sign? I’ve figured out that, for the most part, they’re there to establish right-of-way and fault in case there’s an accident. People don’t actually stop. Not even a “California Rolling Stop”. There’s a particular stop sign in the city when I’m heading southbound out to the bike route… Cars go even faster through that intersection than if there were no sign. One day, a northbound car (with the right-of-way) approached the intersection at the same time a southbound car and I did. I realized very quickly that I’d better stop because Mr. Northbound wasn’t going to! The southbound car slowed just enough to make it all work. (In the very center of town, there’s more adherence to signals and signs, but it all seems to be a very loose, squishy system.)
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by Maureen | Apr 13, 2010 | Canals, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Introspection, Journal, People, Photos
Running parallel to the Naviglio Pavese canal, between the bike path and the highway, is a drainage ditch overgrown by a tangle of brush and trees in every state of growth or death. Luigi knows this. The 82-year-old man rides his 70-year-old bike along the canal and stops to cut deadwood.
Today he worked on one particularly good dead tree, much like an alder, with plenty of big wood. Knuckles bloodied from hard work in the brush, Luigi spent his time gathering the arm-sized and smaller sticks. With his bow saw, he made half cuts in the wood, then cracked the branches across his knee to break them.
His bike is what stopped me. I don’t think I’ve seen a bike so uniformly coated with such a mist of rust from end-to-end. Think about it. He’s been riding this same bike since he was 12. It has only one speed: however fast his legs are capable of that day.
Luigi and I chatted for a little while, and he allowed me to take a few photos as we talked and he worked. I didn’t understand everything he said, but we enjoyed the meeting. I said goodbye, then walked back to my bike 20 feet away while Luigi finished loading his bike. Then I heard the bike fall and the wood tumble. It had all been out of balance and spilled.
I walked back, and held the bike for Luigi while he reloaded the wood. He excused himself, wanting me to be out of the way as he swiftly raised his curved machete, and thrust the tip down into one of the larger logs for the ride home. He bound it all with heavy string that stretched across the bow saw blade laying flat on top of the woodpile. (In my mind, I questioned that, but who am I to tell him how to tie down his firewood!?) He pushed his bike to the other side of the trail where there’s a canalside railing. I didn’t quite understand what he was explaining, but I soon understood by watching him.
Luigi’s legs are bad. He propped himself and his bike against the railing. I then held the bike while he used his hands to lift his right leg up and over the top bar. He asked me if anyone was approaching from behind, and I steadied him on his bike as he propelled himself into motion. I ran ahead to make sure that my own bike was well out of his way.
As I followed along behind him, I wondered how in the world he was going to stop where the path meets the road up ahead. And how was he going to get started again?! I too stopped at the path end, and Luigi was stalled there, half-straddling his bike. Another cyclist stopped to offer help. I finally realized that Luigi wanted me to hold the bike still while he manually lifted his leg off. He walked the bike to the crosswalk, and declined any further assistance. I watched him as he walked his dear old bike and his load of wood across the street and down a narrow alley toward home.
He’ll be back tomorrow for the logs.
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It doesn’t matter what kind of day I’m having, or what I’m preoccupied with, but a brief, chance encounter like this with Luigi leaves me smiling and bright. These are the moments they don’t advertise in the travel brochures, but they are the highlights of my time here.
by Maureen | Apr 10, 2010 | Introspection, Journal
Journal Entry – 10 Aprile 2010
Really, I’ve kept my world very small. There are some that would rush to assure me otherwise, but when I honestly scan the content and structure of my life, my relationships are one-on-one and my focus is on small details. I’m not a “Grand, Big Picture” thinker.
I think I have good design thinking. And yet here I am in Milano, a world capital of design, and I have not set foot into it. I have not immersed myself by meeting who’s who and participating in local projects. I haven’t consumed the buzz of either design refinement or innovation, though opportunities overflow the city.
What have thrilled me most while here have been the fleeting encounters with people along the way: Mary at the Cemetery with her traditional handwriting; Angelo giving me a history lesson as we rode bikes through the farmland; elderly Signor Conforti in his bookshop in Florence and his handshake goodbye; the old woman in fleece pants on New Year’s Day that chatted with me about handkerchiefs and big buttons. These little meetings have been many and they’ve always left me beaming for the day.
Very informally I have been an observer and recorder of the visual lushness around me, whether it’s architecture and sculpture, garbage cans and curb cuts, or simply odd juxtapositions that tease my eye.
All of this is very telling about my priorities, desires, strengths, values and direction. Though I believe very deeply in the power of design to change the world, and though design absolutely permeates my day and my thinking, my greater joy is in personally touching one life at a time, in the smallest ways. Reality is, design fills and textures my life, but is not the focus of my life’s efforts.
I’m a “good” designer, not a “great” designer. I am unknown in the design world, amongst other designers. (Which is fine with me.) Have I “wasted” my talent? Design gives me a good living and I have assisted many clients with their goals. Is that sufficient?
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(All of these musings help to form a plan for my direction during the remainder of my time here and once I return to the U.S. I’ve certainly had a lot of time to think!)
by Maureen | Apr 10, 2010 | Discoveries, Food!, Introspection, Journal, Shopping & Markets
THIS is the time to be in Milano. The temperature is warm enough (75 degrees) to be comfortable in light linen and cotton, and enjoyable having the windows open to fresh air, but not so warm that there’s any thought yet of air conditioning.
I had a wandering, leisurely ride through the farmland exploring roads I hadn’t tried before. Then I showered, changed and took off walking up along Corso San Gottardo. When I need a variety of miscellanea, this is the local area I frequent.
Last September, my local Bartell’s hadn’t given me enough of a thyroid medication. It’s a pretty simple and standard thing, but necessary. I needed to buy a month’s supply and expected the process to be complicated. (International prescription refill?!) I took the bottles into a local Farmacia, they looked up the chemical component of my prescription online and walked over to a drawer for a braille-embossed box of 50 pills for 2.90 euro, about $3.90. (Hmm. At that price, maybe I should stock up before I return to Seattle? Isn’t it about $33 for a month’s supply back at home?)
There’s also this notion in my head about buying some “cool” eyeglasses to take home as my “souvenir”…Glasses that you’d never find in the U.S.…Glasses that say “somewhere else”. On San Gottardo, I stepped into a centro ottico – optic center – that I had been in before. After looking around for a while, the man that owns the shop said that he remembered me. He wasn’t just flirting. He recalled the glasses I brought in two years ago when the little screw had fallen out of the hinge. In the summer of 2008 he had replaced that little screw at no charge, and simply gave me the glasses back with a smile. (To be here in a foreign country, a big city, and be remembered from two years previous…Remarkable and touching!)
There’s something about the Italians and lingerie and hosiery. They do them well. With the warmer weather, I wanted some lightweight, little socks, just enough to provide a lining, but also interesting enough with lace and fishnet and other fun patterns. I’ve scoured shops in the Seattle area and just don’t find the selection there. (Yeah. In Seattle we’re usually bundling up, not going lightweight.) I bought several pairs of socks and hose (and will have to consider stocking up on those, too, before returning to Seattle!)
The whole street was filled with people walking their kids, their dogs and their lovers. People were seated and sipping caffé, vino or Campari. It was the time of the passeggiata, the evening stroll, and the weather had offered up a time so conducive to the ritual.
As I walked back home, I stopped at the little corner bakery that has my favorite trancio pizza – pizza that is cut to the size you want and charged by weight – and bought a piece with prosciutto, mushrooms and artichokes.
Across the street, at the corner flower vendor, I selected one fragrant lily stem and carried it toward home.
(What can’t I find along San Gottardo?!)
Veering off of Gottardo, and just blocks away from home, I saw my favorite, local bartender, Robbie, in the window of the Mayflower Pub and stopped to say “hello” and give him that European two-cheek kiss. We chatted for a moment. (“Favorite Bartender”? It sounds like I’m at the bar all the time. Actually, very rarely. But both NABA and Scuola Leonardo Language School have their student social nights there so I’ve seen Robbie enough to stop and say hello. He’s a sweet guy.)
I floated the rest of the way home. At almost ten months, I actually know people here, and am recognized by people here. I can wave at people as I walk past their shop windows or they stop me on the sidewalk to talk.
This is an indescribable and stunning time… I marvel at it all.
by Maureen | Apr 10, 2010 | Discoveries, Introspection, Journal
The first order of business this morning was to usher the flock* of ants OUT. As soon as the weather warmed, the ants returned. When I first shared my apartment with them last summer and mentioned it to a friend here, he said “It’s summer.” As in, “Ants? And your point is?” (A corollary response:”Welcome to Italy.”)
For the most part, they’re really no bother. They stay in their nice, little two-lane highway from a break in the exterior wall, along the baseboard of my kitchen cabinets all the way to my little garbage bin. They don’t stray much, except for the occasional wanderer up on the kitchen counter.
With a wet tissue, I wiped and crushed the ant-stream, hurrying before word made it down the line and prevented me from getting them. When I got to the garbage bin, I carefully lifted it up, along with its external and internal crowds of ants, and carried it off to the basement garbage-sorting center… which is right underneath my apartment and probably doesn’t help at all!
There’s a new sticker on the garbage room door, noting treatments against rats and cockroaches. Tiny ants are one thing. Rats and cockroaches are quite another.
*They don’t seem very “army”-like.
by Maureen | Apr 9, 2010 | Featured Articles, Introspection, Journal
One month ago I wrote this entry in my journal, and am now ready to post it, announcing that I’ve decided to move back to Seattle at the end of July. I now have less than 4 months remaining here, and that perspective is very much affecting my time and my outlook. Sometimes I catch myself already “projecting forward” to Seattle and have to remind myself not to “leave” yet. I want to remain present for as long as I’m here.
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Journal Entry:
March 9. Near midnight…
I’m going home.
I’ve decided firmly to move back to Seattle and just tonight bought my plane ticket for July 31. (I have another 2 week visit there in May). It feels right, and I’m ready to think of Seattle as “home” again.
I miss my people and my communities. I miss my pastimes of sewing, cooking, gardening. I miss the activities that supported my health and fitness: regular gym time (!!), walking the Indian Trail, sleeping well and without such interruptions. I miss the sense of feeling rooted. I miss sleeping with the window open and walking on the street without holding my breath. I miss the ready fresh air. I miss green and water and private space.
My life was well-wrought, solid, hand-crafted, enviable. I shook it up, and now will return to a fresh slate, keeping, from before, what I most treasure, tweaking what I’m ready to loosen my grip on, and returning to my wonderful home with clear eyes and freshness. I will not simply pick up where I left off!
I will return to Seattle and be very deliberate, very conscious about what goes back into my house and into my days. I won’t be “starting over”, but rather honing, refining, sharpening the character of my life. And I have gathered a great wealth of sensorial texture to carry with me and flavor my direction. It all feels so delicious and full of possibility!
I want to return to Seattle and see my birthplace with the eyes of a newcomer. One friend has offered a walking tour of “100 Things I’ve Never Seen Before in Seattle.” I welcome the visit to “The Wall of Bubblegum,” among the other bizarre and heart-warming treasures on the list.
How will I integrate? I don’t know. I don’t need to know right now. I will have opportunities to express, and ponder, and share, and a greater purpose and sense of things will take shape as I settle back in.
In the meantime, I still have four and a half months here! That’s vastly more than most people will ever have in their lifetime! And I am going to milk this for everything possible. I intend to explore, gather, see, visit, travel, eat, meet, query, savor, learn and relish this great gift of time and place. I am going to fill…my…self…UP!
On Saturday I will attend a textile printing class in which we will use historic wooden printing blocks (1700s and 1800s) from the Zucchi Collection to print/create fabric for future projects! (I love the Zucchi designs from the late 1900s!) I am thrusting myself into design experiences as fodder for my future.
I am photographing with a fervor and dedication known only to the mad, the crazed, the off-the-wall. I want to bring as much of this home with me as possible in digital or tangible or ethereal form. This time will inspire more than I can imagine for the rest of my days, however long they may be.
I feel full and blessed and wondrous. To have “THIS”, when many never do, is beyond my understanding. The greatness is not lost on me; it burrows deep.
In coming here, I stated that: I wanted to live in a foreign country as an adult, with an adult’s perspective; I wanted to have relationships with people; and I wanted to learn another language. I have done all of that, and more than I can possibly describe.
by Maureen | Apr 7, 2010 | Canals, Cheese, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos, Shopping & Markets
Wednesday is “ricotta day”, the day they make fresh ricotta at the Cascina Femegro.
Even though I had just been there yesterday, a sunny afternoon and the thought of hours-fresh ricotta on some nice bread easily convinced me to hop on my bike. I headed south along the canal, and turned west into the farmland.
There are old, stone troughs spanning the drainage ditches that wind through the farmland.
The one-lane road is cyclists’ heaven. Add sunshine overhead on a spring day, and it’s perfection.
I bought 4 tubs of cheese: 1 for me, and 3 to give away to friends. I had no idea at the time that “friends” would include 9 cats in a lazy-but-playful huddle at another farm along the way home. They very cautiously came over to me as I crouched at the road side, did the “kitty squeak” and rubbed my fingers together trying to entice them. I’ve seen them there before, either on or under the roof of the small outbuilding at this historic building. The most affectionate was the tabby mamma cat that wallowed in the attention.
“OK”, I thought, “The ricotta was cheap. These kitties would enjoy it so much.” Yes. I unwrapped a domed mound of ricotta and split it up into several locations, allowing the timid cats to have a bite to eat away from the more dominant cats. After eating ’til their bellies were full, each found a spot in the sun and did their contented cat preening.
It was nice to get my “kitty fix” since I’m catless here in Milano (and since my kitty, Laddie, has died back in Seattle during my absence).
I wonder what the farmer will think when he finds the empty ricotta tub, and some remnants of cheese…
by Maureen | Apr 6, 2010 | Canals, Cheese, Food!, Introspection, Journal, Meals
The windows are open to the day’s remaining warmth while trout and green beans grill and steam for dinner.
I had awakened this morning to bright sun direct into my bedroom, and the day held promise. After some tasks around the house and a light lunch, I went for a bike ride along the canal, past magnolias, cherry trees and forsythia, and then west into the farm land. I rode to the dairy and bought grana padano and fresh scamorza cheeses. Tomorrow, Wednesday, is fresh ricotta day. That’s worth riding back to the farm for! They will have just finished making it by afternoon and it’s so light and fresh it should be eaten by the spoonful out of its tub.
The rice paddies are green with the first new growth, and I dreamily followed the curled road back through them, returning to the canalside path. The temperature and sunny, blue sky were so delicious, and I felt warm and easy.
by Maureen | Apr 2, 2010 | Discoveries, Featured Articles, Graffiti & Street Art, Graphics, Journal, People, Photo of the Day, Photos
They put the temporary, scaffold-and-tin poster walls back up in my neighborhood just in time to feature advertising for the regional elections. Three inch holes are bored into the sidewalk, with rubber plugs for the off-season. Overnight, they can pop the plugs and throw up the walls clean and ready to be weighted with soon-flaking layers of advertising.
The other day, I was amused that as time, rains and passersby have swept past, the portraits on the political posters have been “enhanced”.
Isn’t this one “Art with a capital A”, all on its own!? It’s my favorite.
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Somehow, “bellezza” – beauty – seems an appropriate headline for this dandy.
And, side-by-side, this man was fortunate to have two renditions of his portrait.
The word showing through the peeled section below – “vincere” – means “to win”. Hmm. Subtle.
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by Maureen | Apr 1, 2010 | Cheese, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Firenze, Food!, Incredible Locations, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos, Shopping & Markets
After the flea market at Piazza dei Ciompi in Firenze last Sunday, I walked a few blocks further and saw yellow-tented stalls. Hmm. A food market: cheeses, meats, breads and a few other goodies. Some from Toscana (Tuscany), Firenze’s region. Some spicier ones from the south.
‘Nduja is a casing-stuffed meat that is spicy and spreadable. Very nice with good bread.
“Do you have a problem with cholesterol? Diet? The solution is Tometta (cheese) of 100% pure goats milk. Lower fat content.”
How about some deer meat salame?
I sampled gorgonzola mixed with black truffle and bought a little tub of that to take home. Sampled from a big round of pecorino. Then walked up to a meat vendor that fed me enough samples that I didn’t need lunch. They offered huge, cased, cured meats from which they’d shave a piece and use the knife to hand it to me: prosciutto, porchetta, salame, soppressata. I tried them all, peppered and mild, whole, ground and chunked and knew I wanted to buy a piece. After all the samples, I was indecisive because I liked them all, but I bought soppressata.
In the photo below, soppresatta is the large-chunk round near the black-rind cheese.
In nine months this is one meat I hadn’t tried yet because it’s a Tuscan meat and not so common up north. My markets don’t offer it. Soppressata is made of the left over parts of the pig: cartilage, tongue, head scraps… you name it, nothing’s wasted. The head is boiled for a few hours then picked of meat, skin and all “edible parts”. All of the picked bits are chopped large, seasoned, and stuffed into a casing about 10″ across. The broth from cooking is poured into the casing to cover the meat parts. It is then hung and the liquid thickens and binds everything into a solid. (In the U.S., it might be called “head cheese”.)
The soppresatta that this vendor offered had a nice peppery bite to it. Soppressata omelette? Soppressata burger? “They” are saying that soppressata pizza is the new big thing. I believe it.
Here’s the front end of the porchetta – roast pig.
With gorgonzola and soppressata in my bag, I continued walking. I should have bought a nice Tuscan bread to bring home on the train, but didn’t. I’ve always marveled at these HUGE loaves I see at the markets. Ask for some bread and they just whack off a chunk. These loaves are about 4 feet long.
And look at this green olive bread!
This Toma cheese is so beautiful to look at.
