If you want fun, distinctive, vintage – or modern – eyewear, and you’re strolling the streets of Milano, head up the stairs to Foto Veneta Ottica. You might spend hours browsing!
I had been there a few years ago, and the other day I spontaneously decided to stop in for a peek. Hooked on red glasses, I asked to see what they have. They pulled out a tray full of red-wear, but what caught my eye was a pair off to the side, in another case.
Bingo! This pair, from the 70s, by Italian designer Mila Schön, is certainly “fun, distinctive and vintage”, and a bit outrageous. They put new lenses in them for me and I picked them up the next day. Fabulous. There won’t be anything like them on the streets of Seattle!
FOTO VENETA OTTICA Via Torino 57, 20123 Milano Tel 02.8055735
Journal Entry: Wednesday, 12 September 2018 – Milan
Did I really just arrive in my home-away-from-home, Milan, this morning?! Here I am again. And it all feels so easy and familiar. Not that there is nothing new or no challenge. There is still much to see, explore, discover, learn. This place stretches me differently than Burien and Seattle. AND it’s a time entirely for me. (This is my 11th year of coming here.)
My apartment on the 5th floor, (circled), above the Naviglio night life.
I’m in a 5th floor walkup apartment*, no elevator. 90 Steps up to the front door. The entrance looks out over inner courtyards, gold-hued stucco, tile rooftops. Inside, there is an opening window from floor to ceiling that looks directly down onto the Naviglio Grande (the Grand Canal) and it’s changing bustle. The white noise of wine-fueled conversation during the evening aperitivo is oddly comfortable. *(The Italians call it the 4th floor; the ground floor is floor zero.)
The view to the south from the apartment entry door.
The view to the north from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Naviglio Grande.
Other than celebrating my birthday in 3 days, and honoring Patti on the 2nd anniversary of her death, and having 2 girlfriends come here for 2 weeks… I don’t have a big, new goal or purpose for this trip. It’s just that I can’t not have my time in Italia, for whatever it is to me.
Journal Entry: Friday, 14 September 2018 – Milan, 8:30 a.m.
Sitting canalside, way up high, listening to morning sounds of church and cyclists’ bells, deliveries on cobblestone, traffic, sidewalk conversations. The city awakens.
Yesterday, I made my pilgrimage into the center of town to the Duomo (Cathedral) di Milano – which I love – and then strolled around through the adjacent Galleria and to Luini’s for a Panzerotto. Just being here with ease and familiarity… Feeling nestled in as much as a foreigner can.
The Duomo di Milano
Near the southeast corner of the Duomo, there is a sculpture of a disemboweled man. I suppose the sculptures and paintings were meant to inspire the illiterate masses to live according to the Church’s tenets… or suffer the consequences.
The domed, glass roof of the Galleria.
One of the Louis Vuitton window displays in the Galleria.
Luini’s was established in 1888 and is a popular spot with locals and those that stumble upon it, tucked onto a side street just north of the Duomo. They sell Panzerotti: stuffed, deep-fried (or baked) hot pockets. Lots of filling options!
Along the Naviglio Grande (Grand Canal) the San Cristoforo dragon boats and kayaks cruise through every day, to the beat of a drummer to keep time, occasionally accompanied by the church bells. (CanottieriSanCristoforo.it)
Journal Entry: Thursday, 20 September 2018 – Milan
Days have been hot and humid, but have turned delicious, from 75 – 80 degrees and a freshness from a few nighttime showers.
View from the sleeping loft, down into the living room and beyond, to the Naviglio night life.
It is rather dreamy that I “get” to do this. But really, there’s no “getting” involved. I have made and do make different choices and I’ve structured my life so that I can spend some of it here in an entirely different place and mode.
My Farmer’s Market Purchases: Clockwise, from upper left: Taralli with black pepper, produce bag with the Duomo on it, Borlotti beans, castelvetrano olives, pickled onions, turkish figs, yellow peaches, onions, tuna stuffed red peppers, green string beans.
This feeds me, and it pushes me. Foreign country, language, customs. And Milan. An international seat of design, which gives it such contrast and stark visual appeal. The old history, side-by-side with clean, high design, honed and spare. I thrill at Milan. Every city could take a lesson from its well-defined branding and identity.
The recycling trucks start along the Naviglio Grande at about 6:00 in the morning. Since the Naviglio is such a restaurant and drinking hot spot, there are thousands of bottles to be collected. The sound they make when dumped is such a crashing clamor to wake up to!
Journal Entry: Saturday, 22 September 2018 – Milan
Warm day. The Naviglio is in a relaxed stroll. A street musician is playing his guitar along the canal, out in front of the elementary school. The white noise of conversation at outdoor, umbrella-covered cafè tables drifts up to my open window, high above. I marvel that this is possible. That I can pack my bags, bring my work and step into this life for a period. Remarkable.
In this neighborhood, Saturday is market day. A string of city blocks nearby is blocked off and filled to the brim with produce, fish, cheese, flowers, housewares, clothing… and people. It seems to be when everyone does their big marketing for the week, going home and filling their tiny fridges and cupboards with Italian veggies, fruits and cheese, mediterranean fish, and cheap sundries.
When I was first living here in 2009, it took me a few times to figure out “the system” for buying from the vendors, and then overcome my timidity with my then more-limited Italian. I know the protocol now for waiting in line off to the side, but I still get mixed up over exactly how many green beans come in a kilo… quite a few! Requesting my food in metric amounts is still a guessing game for me.
Then there’s the foxy game the vendors play to upsell a little each time. I ask for 2, they put 3 in my bag. I ask for a half kilo, I go home with somewhere between half and a whole kilo, even though they weigh each order.
And I have yet to find a produce vendor that handles the goods with a gentle touch. It matters with tomatoes, apricots, nespole, plums, figs and others! They use the open produce bag for target practice, flinging each tender fruit toward the bag’s gaping entrance. (Sometimes I’ll observe a vendor for a while and decide not to buy from one that throws the fruit around. It doesn’t leave me many options though.) By the time I walk home with my day’s purchases, I’ve got spoilage already.
All that said, the array not only offers edible delights but a visual one as well. I enjoyed shooting panoramas today to give a sense of the surroundings (those these don’t show the throng of people, nor the clothes and sundries.)
(Click on the photos to see them enlarged.)
Lovely fruits and vegetables.
All sorts of seafood, much of which I’d never seen until I came here.
Olives, canned tuna, pickled foods.
Produce galore.
Breads and rolls.
We need more olives.
Yet more produce.
Olives, pickles foods, dried fruits.
Nuts and olives.
Salted cod, olives, dried foods and others.
More produce, lots of greens.
Many different cheeses and meats.
A meat and cheese vendor.
Today I brought home erbette, rucola, lattuga, fagiolini, pomodori, olive, cipolle, cima di rapa. (leafy greens, arugula, bibb lettuce, green beans, tomatoes, olives, pickled onions, broccoli tops.)
Fresh figs are in at the Saturday street market just a couple of blocks away, and they share the display with the magenta-splashed Borlotti bean pods! I bought some of both green figs and black, and enough borlottis to make a pot of something. (I also bought some picadilli tomatoes, slender green beans, pickled onions, dolce “sweet” green olives and cherries.)
As a kid, my only exposure to this fruit was in the form of highly-sugared “Fig Newtons”. Little did I know that the cookie’s core comes from a soft, sweet fruit, that needs no sugar (wonderful when wrapped with prosciutto). I wanted to do a side-by-side taste test of both green and black figs, so I strolled the market to find the best prices, best fruit and best fruit-handler! (Good fruit and pricing is easy to find. A gentle handler is not.) I ended up with enough figs, ultra-ripe and needing to be eaten promptly, that I’ll be eating several a day hoping to keep ahead of their ripeness.
Borlotti beans caught my eye when I was living here a couple of years ago. Now, during each time in Italy, I’ve got to buy at least enough of the pretty beans to sit myself in a chair for half an hour and shuck the soft shells for a meal. I’ll cook up a pot of the speckled beans, with some fresh sage, garlic, fresh tomatoes, red pepper, zucchini and maybe some pancetta.
This is real Italian food. They’re not over here just eating pizza and spaghetti. And they’re NOT eating “Fettucine Alfredo”! (If you see it on a menu, it’s only there for the tourists.) The range of Italian food is so vast. It truly does change every hundred kilometers. And most of it is nothing like seen in “Italian Restaurants” in the U.S.
When here, I eat everything that’s regional and typical to an area. I eat what I can’t get in Seattle. As I travel and seek out a meal, I always ask what the local specialties are and then expand my view of “Italian Food”. Here’s a sampling of what I’ve eaten in the last three weeks.
Soprassata Fiorentina • “Head Cheese” from Florence. I had this when living here a couple of years ago. Found it at a street market with no refrigeration, no running water. This is made of all the extra “head parts” that are cooked and congealed together with seasoning. Mmm. Yummy on a slice of bread. Must be 99% fat.
Fragolini • Little, wild strawberries found growing in the weeds in my courtyard. Actually, they had very little flavor, but I have seen them being sold at the market.
Lardo di Colonnata and Gorgonzola Dolce • Aged, seasoned lard (below, with a streak of meat), and creamy, mild “Sweet” Gorgonzola cheese (above). Both fantastic on a good hunk of bread. (Who needs butter?!)
Torta di Mele, con Gelato di Vaniglia • Apple Tart with Vanilla Gelato. A rare, sweet splurge for me.
Insalata di songino, pomodori e burratina con olio e aceto • Salad of “lamb’s lettuce”, cherry tomatoes and “burratina” cheese, drizzled with olive oil and a thick balsamic “cream”. Burratina is a small version of “Burrata”, a fist-sized ball with an outer layer like fresh mozzarella about 1/8″ thick, containing soft, creamy/runny, semi-solid cheese within. Heaven on a bed of greens!
Panzerotto Luini • Deep-fried bread pocket (filled with spinach and ricotta) from Luini’s by the Duomo. Inexpensive, hand-food that the locals all know about. Carry it around and eat it while walking.
Ribollita • Tuscan bread and vegetable soup, eaten in Firenze (Florence). The name means, literally “reboiled”.
Spiedina di carne mista • It WAS a skewer of mixed meats, in this case sausage and pork, eaten in Firenze.
Porcini • Two porcini mushrooms for 12 Euro at the street market (about $15!) All the time that I had lived here I never bought fresh porcini! I had to splurge at least once.
Porcini e Pomodori • Porcini and tomatoes (and brooms), cooking in my 35″ wide kitchen/broom closet. I brought the porcini home and cooked them up; also sauteéd some fresh cherry tomatoes.
Porcini with vegetable ravioli, and sauteéd fresh cherry tomatoes with meat ravioli, fresh from the street market.
Pastries from Spezia Pasticceria. My favorites are the Babá in the upper right: sponge cakes absolutely drenched with sweetened rum, with sweet ricotta filling in the middle. One bite and the rum sauce runs down your arm.
My favorite meats (clockwise from the top): Prosciutto (Crudo, di Parma), Bresaola, Mortadella with pistachios. It’s an art ordering your prosciutto cut! The bresaola is 100% lean (also available in horse meat). Mortadella: think “baloney” from when you were a kid, then multiply by 100. This mortadella has pistachios and peppercorns in it, and yes those are chunks of (white) fat.
Here’s the receipt for the meats above: 50 grams of Bresaola for 1,50 euro; 100 grams (“un etto”) Mortadella for 1,29 euro; 50 grams of Prosciutto di Parma for 1,35 euro. I had also bought “Gorgonzola Dolce”, the gooey, creamy, mild gorgonzola for 1,88 euro, and “Vitello Tonnato”, thin-sliced, roasted veal with a pureed tuna mayonnaise sauce on top for 2,47 euro. This was several days’ food for a girlfriend and me for 8,49 euro, about $10.66. (Makes up for the cost of the porcini.)
Bresaola, my favorite. An air-dried, salted beef that has been aged 2-3 months. Almost completely lean, no fat. Sliced paper thin, and when it’s very good, it is moist and supple, not dry and leathery. Note how translucent it is! I can’t buy Italian Bresaola in the U.S. Too many fears of “mad cow disease”.
Insalata con mozzarella di bufala, pomodori e basilico. Vitello tonnato • A salad with fresh mozarella di bufala (yes, buffalo milk), tomatoes, basil, served with “vitello tonnato”, the thin-sliced veal with pureed tuna/mayonnaise sauce.
Salsiccia e fagioli • Sausage and beans, a very Tuscan meal eaten in Firenze.
Verdure al forno • Tuscan oven-roasted vegetables, in Firenze.
On Saturday, three blocks from my house, is the weekly street market selling fruits, vegetables, meats, fish, cheeses, olives, preserved foods, household sundries and clothing. It’s a hub-bub of people buying their provisions for the week.
You have to know “the system” for shopping there. Decide what you want, then go stand in line at the side, and wait your turn to request your purchase. You do NOT pick out your own produce! And you do not simply ask one of the stall vendors out front for what you want; you will be cutting in line in front of others. (I had to learn this a few years ago through observation.)
My big complaint is that although the produce is displayed so beautifully, and the quality is so high, the handling of it all is so rough! Ask for such tender things as tomatoes and apricots and they will arrive home bruised and punctured from having been roughly pitched into the bag.
It still feels like high-pressure shopping to me after several years. But whether I stock up for the week there or not, the Saturday street market is always an opportunity for gathering beautiful images. In addition to the gorgeous berries, lemons, olives and fish, I enjoy the “Street Market Script” used to write out the quick signs. (Some have begun to use computer-generated signs and they’ve lost all character.)
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.
I had seen this woman selling fresh eggs at the Saturday Market last year, too, but neglected to shoot a video because I was standing there spellbound.
She grabs a large square of egg carton, slices the needed size, then plucks and places the eggs requested. I marvel at how fast her hands fly and at the intriguing and innovative ways she wraps the rubber bands, which is a bit hard to see because she moves so quickly. Watch for that second little wrap she puts on each short side.
How many sales every Saturday morning? How many times has she made this wrap?
She wraps any combination of 2 eggs. How about 10?
How can there be any other way to eat? The Saturday market is now just one block away from my apartment and it goes on for blocks. The selection of meats, cheeses, fruits, vegetables, and other delicious things makes the market a must-stop. Apparently everyone local thinks so, too.
Ahh! Grana Padano! Note the pattern on the side of the cheese wheel. When you see that diamond-shaped imprint, you know it’s the real thing.
Why have butter when you can have lard (or olive oil)? Yum! A slice of lard on a good hunk of bread: Yes!
My purchases today included:
Bouquet of anemones for my friend, Ewa
“Sweet” Olives from Puglia – Green and meaty
Cherry Tomatoes from Sicily
Pomodori di Pachino – Green and red skinned, crisp tomatoes
Pickled Artichoke Hearts and Onions
Ravioli stuffed with asparagus and fresh ricotta
Basil – dirt still on the roots
Eggs – handwrapped
Peas – fresh in the shell
Mozzarella – freshly made
Mortadella of Wild Boar with Black Truffles and Pistachios (!!!)
I couldn’t wait to get home and shove it all in my mouth!
Oooo! The Mortadella with truffle!
The pickled onions and sweet olives!
I cooked the ravioli while I cut up the tomatoes, basil and some of the mozzarella. When the pasta was finished, I shelled the fresh peas right onto the hot ravioli, then dumped everything together and drizzled it all with bright green extra virgin olive oil and some crema di balsamico, a reduced balsamic vinegar from Modena.
Oh… Wow. Mmm.
…And this food is not “gourmet”. And it’s not being sold at high-priced, specialty grocery stores. This is daily fare.
