The mid-afternoon sunlight is coming into my almost-three-foot-wide, skinny kitchen and it strikes me as so beautiful. It’s almost a black and white shot, except for that delicious green mug, a sprinkling of red, painted petals on another mug, and red pepper lip stains on the cotton napkin. Nothing contrived or set up, yet it is all so perfect. I smile.
Backing up a bit, here are some journal excerpts from March 18, 2012, in Burien, WA, as I reflected on my then-imminent trip to Milan:
“I am now just under 8 weeks away from heading back to Italy. At the 10-week mark I felt ‘the shift.’ I am now straddling the globe, neither fully here nor fully there. I’ve notched up my energy and efforts, my focus, all in preparation for being away from here and returning to a life – my life – there. (When I returned at the end of June last year, I really ‘came back’, emotionally and psychologically. But the shift was palpable 2 weeks ago.)
“So I’m consumed with both preparations and completions, and this state is isolating. No one in my life has such a life pattern or makes such choices.
“From where I sit here in my living room, I look out to only tall firs, Puget Sound, Vashon Island, my bright green yard and rain drops hanging suspended from the Japanese maple. The Olympics are hidden by an early-Spring, leaden sky, but would otherwise define my horizon.
“In two months I will be on the third floor of a city apartment, just off the freeway exit, looking out to my neighbors’ balconies and the courtyard with the garbage bins. The sound of traffic will be ever-present and its grit will filter into my living space.
“The contrast between the two places is absolute. I dearly love my home and its location here. But spending city time in Milan brings something entirely different to my days and my experience. Living in Italy requires that I live closer to ‘the edge’ and that is good (though exhausting over time). It both develops and draws on my inner resources, forcing me to stretch. In the midst of and because of this, I feel exquisitely alive when in Italy.
“I sincerely attempt to have that sense of aliveness while here in Seattle (Burien) but am aware of how different it is. It’s a deeper, calmer sense here.
“I look forward to returning to Milan, to seeing now-dear friends and being back in my neighborhood. I like the life of being on foot, bike, subway or train for all my travels. Thought it is limiting, it is also quite freeing. I don’t mind walking 2 miles for a good loaf of bread, and absolutely swoon over riding my bike into the farmland for fresh ricotta.
“Truthfully, my life in Milan is not the typical Milanese life. They are not all going ‘Tra La La’ as they ride out for fresh cheese! But neither is my life typically American. OK. I seem to make it work and it is envied by many. But this choice excludes other choices I could make; they don’t see what I give up to have this.”
May 14, 2012 – Departure from Seattle, through London, to Milano.
Seatac Airport: One of the public art, tiled columns as I head toward the S Gates at the South Satellite. (With On-the-move smartphone blur.)
Awaiting departure from London to Milano.
"Welcome to Milano", the sign says as I briskly leave the plane and head out of the airport, Milano Malpensa.
Could this greeting be any more perfect as I was leaving the airport, heading for the train into Milano?!
What a way to begin and end a journey… Embedded in the platform at the Cadorna station, leading in and out of Milano, is a slab of stone engraved with this phrase: “Every step I have taken in my life has led me here, now.”
That’s something to ponder thoughtfully…
As a cyclist, I must be ALWAYS vigilant! This particular stop sign on the way to the bikes-only path, both amuses and frightens me. Stop? What stop? And this ain’t no “California Rolling Stop!” This is hardly a hesitation, a pause.
A stop sign is a guideline. If there’s an accident and YOU had the stop sign, then you’re at fault. Poof. Simple. Other than that, it’s a guideline only.
Notice the pedestrians that try desperately to get across the street.
Such dear, dear people. I feel so welcomed by Agnese, Ninni, their son Erik and Ninni’s sister Bea. They greeted me so warmly and then said goodbye with hints of visiting Seattle this year!
It was three years ago that I had “Warm Octopus with Potatoes and Olives” for the first time at the Carlotta Café here along the Naviglio Pavese canal in Milano. I’ve been dreaming about it ever since and longed to know how to make it myself. Almost a year ago, on Friday, the day before leaving to return to Seattle, I had hailed a cab to go to the restaurant for an Octopus-cooking lesson. Ninni and Agnese had offered to teach me sometime.
When I arrived, they were closed up tight. I didn’t know they were away on vacation.
Back here in Milano for these two months, I’ve been traveling quite a bit, and have only gone to the Café for one meal, with a big group of friends. With my departure imminent (next week!), I just had to get down there for my Octopus Lesson!
Today was the day. I packed my apron, hopped on my bike and was there in 10 minutes to hang out in the kitchen for the afternoon. I had called ahead and arrived during a quiet lunch hour. Ninni immediately asked his son, Erik, to pour me a glass of prosecco. Bea, (short for Beatrice), Ninni’s sister, works at the restaurant and showed me step by step what I needed to know.
Piovre Tiepida con Patate e Olive
Warm Octopus with Potatoes and Olives
Octopus – previously frozen, thawed. 2.5 – 3 lbs. each.
Have a BIG pot of water boiling and ready. Put the octopus into the boiling water, tentacles up, with two fistfuls of coarse salt. The octopus will cook for an hour to an hour-and-a-half until it has the tenderness of a cooked roast when poked with a 2-tined fork. No other ingredients are added to the water. (No onions, celery, pepper, etc.)
These octopus are bigger than the ones I’ve found at the Pike Place Market in Seattle.
THE OCTOPUS SHOULD BE COOKED AND THEN COOLED THE DAY BEFORE SERVING (or at least earlier in the day). This is a big key toward its tenderness. (Today, to show me the preparation, Bea used octopus that had been cooked yesterday.)
Potatoes – Moist, yellow potatoes, such as a Yukon Gold, are best.
Cook the potatoes ahead of time and let them cool to room temperature. When ready to prepare the dish, peel the potatoes, cut them into chunks and set them aside.
Italian Parsley – Take a handful of Italian Parsley and chop it finely.
Oil/Vinegar Dressing – 1 liter Extra virgin olive oil, about 1/2 cup of red wine vinegar, 1 large clove of garlic, about a Tbsp. of salt. Put all of these ingredients into a deep, narrow mixing jar and use a hand blender (or similar) to pureé it into a smooth dressing. This dressing will suffice for quite a while and can be stored in the fridge for later use.
Olives – Use the very small, distinctive, taggiasche olives (from Liguria).
Assembly – When ready to prepare the meal, take the octopus from the fridge and cut the body/head away from the tentacles and set it aside. If it hasn’t already been cleaned out, at the junction of the body and tentacles is a round sack about the size of a quarter (depending on the size of the Octopus) and the beak, both of which should be removed and thrown away. Cut the tentacles apart from each other up at the thick ends. The skin is NOT peeled off. The thickest part of the tentacle can be cut crosswise if desired. Cut into 1/8″ thick rounds, cutting the whole tentacle, suction cups and all. Take the body/head, like an empty pouch, and peel away the outer skin. Cut into bite-sized pieces.
(The body/head is the rounded, fist-sized piece sitting at the edge of the cutting board in the picture below.)
Depending on the number of people being served, gather octopus chunks, potato chunks and a good handful of olives and place them into a sieve. With a pot of water already boiling on the stove, place the sieve and its contents, into the boiling water. Allow the food to heat for only about 3 or 4 minutes just to warm through.
Remove from the water. Drain well and toss everything into a bowl. Add a handful of chopped parsley and a good glug-glug-glug of the prepared oil/vinegar dressing. Serve with a wedge of lemon, if desired.
Bea finished prepping the octopus, Ninni plated it and gave me a delicious lunch. Out of this world. So very tender. From now on, everyone that comes to my house for dinner will be served octopus.
Surrounded by such kind people: Ninni, Erik, Bea and Agnese
What started all this exploration of Italy? A nudging query from a friend. An internet search. And far too many reminders that life is much too short. Too many friends and family members have “had their numbers come up”. They’ve gotten “that news”. It’s a gulper and has rattled me each time.
They say you can’t learn from someone else’s life. I want to refute that and take their news as a lesson to put as much life in my life as possible.
When on the metro here in Milano, on those occasions when I stop at “Fermata Montenapoleone“, I enjoy the tilework on the columns, and it reminds me to enjoy my life.
Milano is a fashion maven’s paradise: Prada. Dolce & Gabbana. Armani… etc. But dresses and handbags don’t interest me much. I’d rather have knives and scissors. I’d rather have tools for making things. I’d rather have a well-crafted implement.
A girlfriend wrote to me last night and mentioned G. Lorenzi Coltellinaio on Via Montenapoleone, and a book that they have available. That’s a knife shop on the most fashionable, high-rent street in all of Milano! …I added it to my list today.
When I walked in and was greeted by several salesmen, I spoke to one and said that a girlfriend had asked that I buy a copy of their book, “That Shop in Via Montenapoleone”. He told me they had it, and that he would GIVE me a copy of the book. He started to giftwrap the book, then I saw him talking to a manager. Soon, he was giving me a copy for my girlfriend and one for me.
As I glanced at the display cases surrounding me, I thought “Oh my, I’ve GOT to buy something here!” That was easy to fulfill.
The salesman and I went into the basement showroom where they have kitchen, sewing and smoking tools. I “ooohed” and “ahhhed” for a while. Everything gorgeous. Everything well-wrought and will last a lifetime… at least.
When we came back up top, I swooned over the horn spoons, HAD to have a pair of kitchen scissors that would – many years later – go to a niece or nephew, and then I fell apart over the hard-cheese-knife-so-lovely-as-art.
We introduced ourselves finally. Roberto was a patient dear and waited while I selected my spoons.
That was one of the most pleasant buying experiences of my life! The things that I will carefully transport home will be coddled and treasured like nothing else.
I was in that small shop for about an hour, yet it remains a “treasure the size of several hours”. Roberto and I shook hands. Expressed our enjoyment of the chatting time. I gathered my new things into a special shopping bag and commented on the spitting rain that was foreboding… Roberto GAVE me a black and white umbrella to get me back to the Metro safe-and-dry.
How sweet.
If you are in Milano, just a little north of the Duomo and the Galleria, step into G. Lorenzi Coltellinaio and find something that you wish to pass on to those that come after you. What you leave them, they will one day need to choose a recipient for. It will last lifetimes. (As will the stories.)
G. Lorenzi
Via Montenapoleone, 9
Milano, Italia
Telephono: 39 027-602-2848
Ticka-ticka-ticka-ticka. The signs that indicate Milano’s M2 green line subway destination were malfunctioning and rapidly rotating through all the options. It was amusing, but noisy with its constant “ticka-ticka”.
Wouldn’t you like to stop at Gorgonzola?
A pigeon wandered into the other bedroom, twice, off the balcony.
A child was practicing lessons on a recorder flute, playing “Somewhere (There’s a Place for Us)”. The sound was amplified through the courtyard, allowing us all to “enjoy” the practice. It actually wasn’t too bad.
The neighbors next door must be good cooks, or at least they use aromatic ingredients. Our corner balconies are just 10 feet apart and I’ve been enjoying the scent of their meals wafting through the balcony doors at lunch and dinner.
– – –
I arrived in Milano yesterday after my southern tour, and got into my apartment at 5:00. After a bit of a breather, I launched into nesting, making it mine. This is a “student-grade” apartment, for 19-to-22-year-olds, and they’ve cleaned it about like one would expect of 19-to-22-year-olds. I scrubbed grime until 1:30 in the morning. I had bought groceries, but couldn’t put them away until I cleaned the fridge. I couldn’t clean the fridge until I had a clean sink and counters to work on. And so it went. I couldn’t go to sleep until I had a clean bed to sleep in.
This apartment building is two blocks away from the apartment I had when I lived here, but that one was on a quieter, dead-end street. This first floor (one floor up from the ground) apartment has one balcony that looks out onto a four-lane road that dumps right onto and off of the highway. At 1:15 in the morning, just before heading off to sleep, sure enough, the street cleaners – my nemeses – were out pressure-washing the streets and sidewalks, as if to say “Welcome Back.” The traffic noise is a constant “white” in the background, but I actually slept well last night.
Everything got scoured: floors, counters, stove, dishes, fridge, desktops, sheets, bathroom fixtures, shelves. I couldn’t put things away until I had clean places to put them. I took all of the unneeded items and stashed them out of sight in the other bedroom, or decoratively on the wall storage units. I rearranged. Then I bought some string and tied the two scrawny-thin beds together to get an approximately queen sized bed. Ahh. Room to turn over at night! I also bought a new shower curtain, and a few other cheap details that add a little character.
“My Room”, with shelves, desks, string-tied beds, closets:
The other bedroom, with my attempt at “art” of 4 fans and 3 lights. (My towels and toilet paper are similarly arranged in “My” room.) The poster was already on the wall, and I decided to leave it:
Of the shower curtains readily-available for cheap, this was the best option. (The old one was torn and mildewed. Being here for 5 weeks, I can afford to buy a new shower curtain for the pleasure – relief – it will give me!)
I’m 4 doors away from the best pastry shop in the city, Pasticceria Spezia Milano. Too bad I generally don’t like pastries. I make an exception for their “Babá” though. That’s the sponge cake that’s soaked in rum such that the rum runs down my arm to my elbow when I take a bite.
The apartment’s also only 2 blocks away from my treasured Naviglio Pavese Canal, along which the paved bike path runs! I’ve got a bike in the other room waiting for a ride tomorrow.
(If I told anyone that I have a two-bedroom apartment with 4 beds, 2 balconies, fabulous kitchen, full bathroom and ideal city location I’d probably have a crowd flying into Milano Malpensa Airport for a visit! What a great apartment, all to myself. Shhh. Don’t tell.)
Now that I’ve cleaned, organized and gotten settled in for my 5 weeks here, I can breathe easy and get back to work on my clients’ projects, and I can post some of the 1600 photos I’ve shot in the last 3 weeks. Stay tuned.
Always an exercise in “packing light”, I keep removing things from my one-and-only carry-on bag for two weeks in the south of “The Boot”. After a week in Milano, I’m heading to south to wander around. First, I’ll explore Sicilia for a week. Then I’ll take a train along the “sole of the boot”, to Puglia, right at “the heel”. I’ll stay for a couple of nights in a traditional Trullo in Alberobello (Google: trulli alberobello italy), then a couple of nights in Lecce, close to the tippy-tip of “the heel”. (I always like going to the most distant points of a place. What is there about that?)
After Puglia, I’ll train up along the Adriatic sea coast to Le Marché, and stay in Marotta for a couple of nights. Swimming pools and the seashore. Ahh.
During this time, I’m leaving my laptop and external harddrive behind. (Gasp!) I’ll be mostly unplugged and “off the grid”. (Double gasp!) But I’m experimenting with an iPad and will see what kind of wifi reception I have and whether I can get online or not. If so, there may be blog posts from the south. If not, there’ll be a loooooong silence.
After this two week flurry, I’ll head back north to Milano and get settled into an apartment for a month. I’ll be back to doing my client work, riding my bike along the canal, AND having twice-weekly tennis lessons!
Time to pack away the computer and zip up the suitcase. I’m off and away.
Ciao ciao.