by Maureen | Feb 8, 2010 | Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos, Sanremo, Travel Blog
The locals write “Sanremo”, a conjunction of the saint’s name. The rest of the world splits it into two words: San Remo. It’s a beautiful and small little town that has palm trees befitting any seaside resort, as well as the narrow, pedestrian-only, rabbit-warren paths that are so characteristic of towns around Italy. Just a breath away from France, if I threw a rock into the air it would land on the other side of the border. (It’s actually about 15 miles away). I’m glad I visited in February; I can only imagine this place having standing-room-only in the summer!
From my journal. Sunday, 7 February 2010
“Saturday morning woke us to blue skies and warming temperatures that spoke of Spring. We had a breakfast of prosciutto, fresh mozzarella and toast before heading into the town of Sanremo. We inched through the very crowded market which sprawled over many blocks. Hawkers sold housewares, handbags and cashmere, most at dirt cheap prices and most at acceptable quality. I bought nothing.
A lovely day, with my light jacket unzipped and open under the sky, fresh air in off the water, and the clarity that follows a hard rain. the sun was brilliant in my eyes and the mimosa was just beginning to bloom.”
As is common in other big cities around Italy (the rest of Europe, too?), there are “human statues” that pose for money, either with a tourist or without. I’ve seen them in Rome, usually dressed head-to-toe in all white or gold, mimicking the old statuary. This man, however, was clad in silver painted junk, tied and heaped onto his body. He stood stock-still, shimmering. I enjoyed his fresh take on the well-worn statuary vision.
by Maureen | Feb 8, 2010 | Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, Monte-Carlo Monaco, Photo of the Day, Photos, Travel Blog
We continued on to Monaco and the Casino Monte-Carlo. Who’d have imagined? All of us commented on the richness so thick you could cut it with a knife, that you could smell the money in the air. Subtlety and understatement are not included in the vocabulary of this pinpoint country. Monaco is a place of overstated extravagance.
Monaco is the cluster of high-rises tucked into the rounded bay in the distance.
This is the marker stone as we entered into the principality of Monaco.
This small, independent principality is formed of a half-moon bit of the southeastern shore of France, not far from the border into Italy. There are two grand marinas hosting yachts beyond belief. Hotels circle the casino; their other homes are all the great cities of the world. The Grand Prix route is painted with the racer’s checkboard. All the finest shops for jewels and clothing have a presence in Monte-Carlo.
Monaco (and the district of Monte-Carlo) are Disneyland-style, exaggerated caricatures of way-over-the-top excess. For me, I can only imagine going there to drop my jaw, marvel at the ornamentation and know that I’ve seen it. I can’t imagine making it a serious destination, because it’s so far outside of my reach, my comprehension or even my desire.
The front entrance of the Hotel De Paris, across the drive from the Casino Monte-Carlo.
The seaside face of the Hotel De Paris.
Grand city names round the arc of the Hotel De Paris.
Even the newer construction reflects the style and extravagance of the old.
Checkerboard patterning on the Grand Prix raceway route.
The Principality of Monaco.
“Yes, we’d like to order some bread for the restaurant tonight.” “OK. No problem. We’ll bring it by and leave it outside by the door.” “Great. Thanks.” (Would this ever be allowed in the U.S.?)
I’d heard of the Hermitage for years. Here it is.
Even the signage has the same lux feel.
We got around to the other side of the bend in the bay just after sunset.
Monaco official website
Monte-Carlo official website
by Maureen | Feb 8, 2010 | Featured Articles, Monte-Carlo Monaco, Travel Blog
The site of movies made and fortunes lost: Casino Monte-Carlo.
This island of grass and cyclamen is just across the drive from the Casino. The reflective disk sculpture holds an image of the grand building.
I zoomed in on the reflection and found a self-portrait. I’m squatting down – the triangular, black figure at the front of the red car – with my camera braced and steadied against the low railing.
by Maureen | Feb 8, 2010 | Featured Articles, Journal, Menton, Monte-Carlo Monaco, People, Photos, Travel Blog
The “pinch me” part. Along our drive I had been seeing “travel-guide Italy”, scenic, seaside towns, cliffside old buildings, palm trees, polished hotels and trattorias. The statues, the weathered stone and white columns were brilliant against the blue sky we had been given, and were just the sights that make people book a vacation. Incredible. It was all here.
We drove west along the Ligurian Sea route, through Bordighera and Ventimiglia to the border town of Menton, France. We got out and strolled the seaside walk, the streetside markets, the town squares. I heard French all around me but forgot to switch to “Merci”.
Most of the details on this yellow building are painted. Can you tell which shutters are real?
We continued on to Monaco and the Casino Monte-Carlo…
by Maureen | Feb 8, 2010 | Journal, People, Photos, Sanremo, Travel Blog
There’s no way I could have CONCEIVED of this weekend! Talk about “living on a movie set!” It was all beyond real, not to be believed. Pinch me. Am I dreaming this stuff up?
Friday morning at 11:10 I hopped on the train heading to Sanremo on the Italian Riviera.
Just outside of Milan, a blizzard started.
(I later heard Milan had several inches of snow. I missed it again.)
I arrived in Sanremo in pouring rain and was welcomed by Sandra, my landlady, and her husband, Mauro, whom I had met once last Fall and had talked to for only an hour. They had invited me to stay at their house for 3 days.
We cleaned a big pile of mussels, clams and branzino (fish) to cook up for dinner.
Their good friend, Sandro, joined us for dinner and the four of us ate and talked all evening. Sandra, Sandro, Mauro and Maureen.
Saturday morning was sunny and blue-skied, and Sandra, Mauro and I wandered through the crowded street markets of Sanremo and strolled along the shoreline path.
At 2:00, after lunch, the 4 of us took off driving west along the Ligurian Sea/Riviera coast and about 15 miles down the road crossed over into France.
We stopped in Menton, France, wandered around town and I kept forgetting to change languages and say “Merci” instead of “Grazie”.
About 15 miles further, we crossed over into Monaco.
We walked around town, saw the outside of the Casino Monte Carlo and the route for the Grand Prix Monte Carlo.
We toured an amazing show of 300 photographs of women, photos c. 1900-2008, all from a private collection.
This morning was again sunny, blue-skied and in the 60s. The four of us went for a 14 mile bike ride to the town of Santo Stefano al Mare, along the paved bike path at the water’s edge on the Riviera.
We returned home to a meal of apperitivi and rabbit.
I had spent three days, with three people, speaking and listening to Italian the whole time. (I think I rounded a corner a month or so ago.)
When I left this afternoon, I felt as if I had spent the weekend with friends I’ve known for years.
I hopped on the train which left promptly at 3:15. The ride was under sunny skies until the town of Ronco, in the mountains halfway between the coast and Milan, where there was deep snow and whiteout conditions. I arrived home at 7:30 Sunday evening to “bare and wet”.
I had traveled from Spring back in time to Winter in a matter of just a few hours.
What’s next on the list?
by Maureen | Feb 4, 2010 | Introspection, Journal, Quips
Sun in my eyes yesterday and the day before! Temperatures in the 40s demanded that I mount two wheels and head off along the canal for a ride. Divine. I haven’t been a cyclist for about 30 years so it surprises me how much I’ve taken to this biking. During and after my ride is when I feel my absolute best. I’m hooked on that sensation: I get hot and sweaty; I breathe hard; I feel both energized and relaxed at the same time. It’s when I feel most prayerful, grateful for having a healthy body ABLE to make such rides!
As often as I’m riding – (I guess I’m pretty gung-ho if I’m still riding in temperatures in the 30s!) – it should not be surprising that the faces on the bike trail are now familiar to me, and I’ve become a part of that community. How unexpected! Now, after 7 months on the canal path, the other cyclists and I exchange our acknowledgements: a nod, a hand raised from the handlebar grip, a “ciao” or “salve” (more formal) as we whiz past each other. Sometimes I’ll tuck in behind another rider and use his speed as incentive to work harder. Other times, a rider and I will sprint together and have an out-of-breath conversation as we ride, then wish each other well when we arrive at our separate routes.
Along the way I see the very hard core bike jocks on their streamlined bikes, wearing their lycra race gear. These guys are serious! Then there are the “intermediate” cyclists, still out just for the ride but not quite such jocks. I encounter the men with bikes-as-transportation getting from point A to point B, and the fishermen carrying nets and rods.
MAYBE I can count one other woman in 200 or 300 riders! Where are the women riders? Are women at home? At work? Is it considered unfeminine for a woman to be sweating and racing, pushing hard in that way? What statement is made by the absence of women on the bike trail? The city’s main outdoor gear store has a large bike section but offers next to nothing for the female cyclist. A male cyclist friend explains, “there aren’t any”.
That must be why they crane their necks as I ride by. Here in Italy, I’m an anomaly in the wheeled community, but it’s nice to be acknowledged with a rolling “ciao”.
by Maureen | Feb 1, 2010 | Bologna, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, People, Photos, Shopping & Markets, Travel Blog
Years ago, a girlfriend of mine from Seattle traveled and stayed with Marcello and Raffaella Tori of BluOne Cooking Tours in Bologna. When my girlfriend, Carri, returned home to Seattle, she kept talking with great fondness about the couple, their big hearts, and the wonderful time spent with them.
For 15 years, Marcello and Raffaella have been offering small, guided culinary tours customized for food lovers, home cooks and pro chefs. Talk about a foodie’s delight! They are based in Bologna, but also lead their cooking adventures in Emilia Romagna, Umbria, Le Marche, Piemonte and other regions of Italy.
The other day when I decided to go to Bologna for the weekend, I got in touch with Marcello and Raffaella and asked if we could meet for even a few minutes. I didn’t want to disturb their weekend plans, but wanted to at least get a photo of them to send to Carri. We e-mailed back and forth a few times and chatted by phone to make arrangements.
I showed up at their home yesterday at 5:00, (a half hour later than we had planned). They opened their door, greeted me with big hellos and sat me down at their kitchen table for tea and freshly baked apple tart (which perfumed the house). We talked for a couple of hours, and laughed and shared ideas about a hundred different things. When it was time for me to dash back into town to catch my train home, we exchanged hugs, kisses and vows to share a long, delicious dinner next time.
I walked away with new friends in my life.
If you’re looking for a more interesting vacation in Italy, something memorable that takes you into the homes and hearts of people, I can’t think of a dearer couple to lead your way. Through food and fun, Marcello and Raffaella will create a never-to-be-forgotten time in your life.
Marcello & Raffaella Tori
Bluone – Cooking Tours in Italy
Via Parigi, 11 40121 Bologna – Italy
Phone +39 051 263546
Fax +39 051 267774
Web: www.bluone.com
E-Mail: info@bluone.com
by Maureen | Feb 1, 2010 | Bologna, Cheese, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Graphics, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos, Shopping & Markets, Travel Blog
As a designer and artist, being here in Italy is a pilgrimage to the home of all the motifs, patterns and visual elements I’ve studied and heard of all my life. At times I’m overwhelmed, excited by the visually lush surroundings.
The storefronts and shop windows are delicious with their old-world signage and embellishments.
This is a contemporary storefront for a high-end clothing store. All of the furnishings are made of corrugated box stock, as well as the “chandeliers” at the ceiling.
THIS is the place to buy Bolognese classic foods! The meats! The cheeses! The 40 euro ($60) 8 ounce bottles of balsamic vinegar! Mmm.
by Maureen | Feb 1, 2010 | Bologna, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, Photos, Travel Blog
Saturday evening, after walking around Bologna for over 6 hours, I went back to my hotel room to chill out. Unfortunately, a wedding party was gathering in the main lobby just down the hall from my room. The hotel, I Portici, is very sleek and modern, with not a soft surface in the place, so every voice, every door slam, every shrill laugh bounced and echoed right into my room. As the wedding guests built in numbers, so did the noise. And then I heard bag pipes. That was the last straw. There was no way I’d be able to sleep that night. When I went out to the lobby to request a room change, I saw a sea of all things plaid: A Scottish wedding in Bologna, Italy. The men were in kilts. The women wore plaid of every sort. That was fine with me, but I just wanted to be sure to sleep that night!
I changed rooms, and I did sleep. In fact, I woke up at a quarter-to-ten! (I must have needed it.) I called my girlfriend to arrange our meeting time and she mentioned snow. Huh? Snow? I looked out the window to 4 inches of freshly fallen snow! I hadn’t come prepared for snow, with proper boots and all. For just a flash I thought of “laying low and not doing much” around town, and thought of the snow as a damper on the day. But I was there to explore; I wasn’t going to sit in my room.
Out I went. I protected my camera from the big flakes floating down all day and shot nonetheless. I found that the “snow sky” created its own monotone scheme that I relished. I loved knowing that I was capturing images contrary to the stereotypical “sunny summer days of Italy”. I was seeing the country in a way that most tourists never know. And with the snow, there were fewer people out, and the city took on a different mood.
This morning, back at home in Milano, my NOT-Snow-boots have dried out and the snow and salt line creeps up two inches from the floor. Those poor boots will need some attention, but I enjoyed the shooting out in the snow and wasn’t going to let improper footwear stop me!
by Maureen | Feb 1, 2010 | Bologna, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Graffiti & Street Art, Journal, People, Photos, Travel Blog
Scatter sculpture, paintings and installations in amongst mediaeval buildings and you’ve got the makings of a visually exciting weekend! The Bologna Arte Fiera got me into town, but I went about seeing it in a very random manner. I simply stumbled upon the art pieces as I found them.
The piece that was most delightful to me was the very spontaneous, casual creation of a “ground mural” out in front of Bologna’s duomo, San Petronio Basilica. The piece was conceived of by Art Kitchen. They had FILLED the huge Piazza Maggiore with a sheet of paper (pieces unrolled and then attached at the edges), then provided buckets of paint and brushes for anyone that wished to contribute. Families strolled on top of the painting. A little girl pushed by on her scooter. And one man used a push broom to make wide, sweeping black strokes. The piece was interactive and engaging. (These days, those two adjectives are usually applied to electronics and video games.)
Across the middle of the paper, they had painted “Art Kitchen: Make the Sky Bloom.”
When I had just arrived in town and not far from the train station, I found a group clad in white, disposable coveralls creating this piece. Take note of the chunks of snow/ice they’re using to weigh the paper down.
The other art included large, sculptural pieces, flat work and installations. Some I liked; some I didn’t like at all, (but that’s art for ya).
(I want this stone furniture in my yard! It wasn’t a part of the art fair, but shared the courtyard with the sculptural figure behind it.)
And this installation amused me most after my moment of recognition: they’re drafting templates for engineering drawings! Relics now, I have a drawer full of them in my basement in Seattle but haven’t used them for over 20 years.
by Maureen | Feb 1, 2010 | Bologna, Discoveries, Food!, Journal, Meals, Photos, Travel Blog
OK. So add Bologna to my list of amazing places to visit in Italy. It’s right up there with Venice, (which makes me swoon). I have a feeling the list will get VERY long.
A girlfriend from my Italian class had mentioned the citywide art fair, Bologna Arte Fiera, that was going on for a month starting 29 January. “Why don’t you come?”, she suggested. I quickly put plans in place and then hopped on the train Saturday morning.
(Side note: I had bought a ticket for the Frecciarossa fast train, which takes 1 hour instead of 3 and costs 41 euro instead of 11. I read the reader board, saw a train listed for Bologna – but with a 5 minute later departure than my scheduled train – and then hopped on the train and got settled into my seat. An hour into the ride, we weren’t even halfway there and were stopping at every little train station along the way. Uh-oh. I goofed. I had hopped on the slow train instead! Clearly I haven’t learned all the little details yet! Oh well. So I arrived later and saw each little town from the trackside. If there’s one thing I’m learning by being here, it’s to take things in stride, and let them roll off me.)
When I arrived in Bologna I walked a short distance to my hotel, I Portici, dropped my few things in the room then left and took off walking, having no idea where I was going or what there was to see! (Since making this trip was a spontaneous decision, I had only glanced at the site for the art fair, but not Bologna itself.)
I followed my “rule” of exploring the back streets, and found a little restaurant, Re Enzo Ristorante. As I was perusing the menu, the owner/waiter hustled past me with a cloud of truffle scent following him. That made my decision easy! “Scialatelli con Porcini e Tartuffo Bianco” – a wide, flat pasta noodle with porcini mushrooms and white truffles. I added some grilled vegetables to my table, and a nice Sangiovese to sip and the lunch was delicious.
Well-fortified and hunger sated, I started walking around town taking turns whenever I wished and found my way to the historic center of Bologna, Piazza Maggiore. It was a chilly, cold day, but I was bundled up and ready for walking.
by Maureen | Feb 1, 2010 | Bergamo, Cheese, Featured Articles, Food!, Introspection, Journal, Meals, People, Photos, Travel Blog
From my journal entry, 23 January. Bergamo.
Bergamo is beautiful and reminds me of San Gimignano in Tuscany. I’m on in the “Alta Cittá”, the high city up on the hill within the old fortress walls. Towers, stone, weathered doors, cobbles. I’m sitting in a little trattoria, “Trattoria 3 Torri”, the restaurant of the 3 towers.
I was standing outside looking at the menu, and the proprietor, Casimiro, came to the door and smiled out at me. A smile goes a long way with me; to be in a foreign country and have someone reach out in that small way seals my decision of where to eat, shop, explore. A geniune smile is the universal entree to first connection.
I’m sitting under vaulted stone ceilings eating a lovely polenta with sausage and porcini mushrooms with a hint of gravy. The sun is shining in onto my table, the first time I’ve seen and felt it in ages (more than a month?). As others enter the restaurant, he gives them a menu in their “madre lingua”, mother tongue. He gave me the menu in Italian. (That’s a compliment.)
It’s now 2:00 p.m. Midday is a good time to have my main meal, come in and get warm sitting next to the heater with the sun in my eyes. And January is a perfect time to be exploring these places that would attract the tourists. It’s quiet and uncrowded. It’s much more relaxing.
My heart and head are SO pulled by this history that reaches back to 1400 and further. To touch surfaces touched for centuries, to stride stone ways that have been stepped upon for so long. We simply do not have such history in the U.S. We do not have the remaining evidence to lay our hands on. Perhaps one day I might become inured to this, but at this point it makes me gasp repeatedly in disbelief. I cannot conceive of what I’m in the presence of.
The visual and physical richness here charges me. It excites me.
Trattoria 3 Torri • Cittá Alta, Bergamo
Piazza Mercato del Fieno, 7/a • Tel: 035-244474
Facebook: Trattoria Tre Torri
by Maureen | Jan 26, 2010 | Bergamo, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, Photos, Travel Blog
After rising up from the valley floor in the funiculare tram, a short walk brings you to the old plaza, la Piazza Vecchia. Encircled by palaces, a bell tower and a colonnaded portico, the space is punctuated at its center by a Baroque fountain from the late 1700s. The piazza is the heart of the city.Those palaces now house restaurants, hotels, a school and a museum.
Passing through the portico (at the left in the photo above, under the banners) you find a white marble sundial that was set into the ground in 1798. It points the way north. (It seems to have been restored in 1982.)
Just beyond the other side of the portico, you step into the Piazza del Duomo, the Plaza of the Cathedral. In mediaeval times this little square was at the political, commercial and religious heart of town. Facing south into the piazza, from your left to right is the Cattedrale di Bergamo (il Duomo), the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore, the Cappella Colleoni and the Battistero (Bapistry).
Cattedrale di Bergamo – il Duomo
The ceiling of the Duomo featured gilt patterning and accents to its carved decorations surrounding painted scenes.
I have a real soft spot for the shrines to Mary. This Madonna della Pietá is in an elaborately carved and embellished side altar.
While in the cathedral, I heard chanting and thought perhaps they were playing a recording “for ambience”. No. I followed the singing which lead me down a staircase near the altar. I came to a very modern underground chapel and 50 Nuns at mass, surrounded by a dozen sarcophaghi.
The dominant presence in the Piazza del Duomo is the union of entrances for the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore (at left in the photo below) and the Cappella Colleoni (at right).
Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore
The Basilica entry is fairly modest and overshadowed by the Chapel entry at its side. It opens, however, into a great, embellished space.
Here’s a shot of the crucifix that hangs over the central altar. (Note the skull and crossbones at the base of the cross.)
All vertical walls are covered with pictorial tapestries. (Although it was still very cold in there!)
Here is historic Bergamo’s answer to today’s compact PDA/Calendar. This is how they note the times of the masses for week days and weekends.
On the outside wall of the Basilica, just to the left of the front door, are permanently-mounted, flat bars of iron that are measuring devices from the Middle Ages. (I can’t find any information about their purpose or unit-of-measure.)
“The Weaver’s Wall” and “the Weaver’s Comb.” (?)
Cappella Colleoni
From a Wikipedia entry: “Dedicated to the saints Bartholomew, Mark and John the Baptist, it was built in 1472-1476 as the personal shrine for the famous condottiere Bartolomeo Colleoni, a member of one of the most outstanding families of the city, and his beloved daughter Medea. The site chosen was that of the sacristy of the nearby church of Santa Maria Maggiore, which was demolished by Colleoni’s soldiers.”
With its 3-D lozenge pattern, the repetition of columns, the figurative sculptures, rose windows, domes and bas-relief panels, no one and no building could compete for stature against this chapel. I think that one could study it all day, as well as the decorated fence surrounding the chapel entry. (No photos were allowed inside.)
The Baptistry
My favorite part of the Baptistry is the decorative ironwork fence around its octagonal shape/
– – –
Note: So very many images and scholarly descriptions are available online that it would feel redundant if I tried to duplicate what’s already been said. I would rather toss out my own personal impressions and show what catches MY eye and mind, and provide enough information so that a blog reader could do their own further research.
by Maureen | Jan 26, 2010 | Bergamo, Cheese, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Photos, Shopping & Markets, Travel Blog
For 4 Euro and 20 cents – about $6.00 – each way, I was able to hop on the train and take a 45 minute ride to Bergamo, east-north-east of Milan.
Amazing amazingness. I’m still picking my chin up off the floor. I’m in awe that I can spend just a few dollars and in less than an hour be walking around in a walled city up on a hill, that was occupied by the Romans in the second century B.C.
They say that the name “Bergamo” has Celtic origins from the word “Bergheim”, “Home on the Mountain”. From what I read, the Celts inhabited the city and built the wall before the Romans took possession. And the story goes on from there.
I arrived at the train station in the “cittá bassa”, the lower city of Bergamo, then started walking in the direction of the upper city, the “cittá alta”. The two are quite separate and distinct from each other in appearance and identity. When I reached the lower “funiculare”, or tram station, I hopped on. I wanted to get UP.
As I walked from the train station toward the “Cittá Alta” I caught this glimpse of the city above me.
By 11:00 in the morning I was walking on those roads made of upended, round cobbles. They’re actually quite uncomfortable to tread on, but they’ve also been designed with footpath-wide stripes of flat stone. How smart!
In these towns, it’s a thrill to wander the main route and browse the shop fronts, but also – even more so – to get away from main street and explore the back roads.
Would you ever see this in the U.S.? An animal’s leg, hoof-on, in the shop window? When a customer comes in, the store clerk steps over, carves away at the uncooked, aged hock, wraps up the meat and then goes on about the day.
The imprinted cheeses are beautiful and I like the packaging on the (moldy) pancetta bound with wood.
How could I NOT come back and buy some of this chocolate torte to bring home? It’s DENSE!
This is a view of the incredible places on the sweeping curve of the hillside, behind the wall.
Towns like this beg to be explored, and the little “trattorie” beg to be sampled.
Bergamo reminds me of other places I’ve visited: San Gimignano, Siena, Venezia, Monteriggioni, Lucca, St. Angelo… There are hardly much more than footpaths in a rabbit warren fashion within the bounds of these cities. One car CAN fit on the streets of Bergamo, but just barely, and with difficulty if there’s also a pedestrian trying to get through. (Some of the cities I just listed don’t have any cars within them!) The narrow, shaded, no-end-in-sight passages generate such intrigue. What’s around the next bend?
There’s fresco decoration just under the roofline of the house on the left. The round pebbles would provide good traction, but the flat stones at left are so much more comfortable to walk on.
Park where you can. These homes look out over the valley below.
This is the side wall of the convent of the Domenican Nuns. I love their splash of color!
Why is the road leading to the convent called the “Way of the Vaginas”? (I’m sorry, but the question just had to be asked.)
One of the things that so excites my mind is the layering of history in these towns, a result of demolition, restoration, remodeling, war destruction, weather, repair, embellishment.
Left to right: street, curb and sidewalk.
Some doors have fresh coats of paint. Some show the patina of wear, hand oils creating a sheen from use.
A walking town on a hillside. Ideal for one’s health.
The construction crane is out of place with the old stone, but then again, it mimics the towers around it.
Late in the afternoon, I found my way to “La Rocca”, a tower, museum and military memorial. ALWAYS climb to the top of a tower in any city you visit!
At the end of the day, having explored the city and eaten a good meal, my camera battery was flashing red and I shot a few last images as the afternoon light waned. This door (below) caught my eye and demanded that I push the battery for just one more shot. When doing so, a man stopped to chat, saying that he, too, likes the old doors and is a sometime-painter. We talked about the longevity of wood versus stone and the absence of such ancient structures in the U.S. He asked where I’m from and when I told him I’m an American from Seattle, he said “But you speak such good Italian!” I smiled. We shook hands and wished each other well.
A painter that also loves the old doors.
by Maureen | Jan 20, 2010 | Discoveries, Food!, Journal, Shopping & Markets
I guess this blog site might be a turn-off to vegetarians. Sorry about that. I’m living in Italy. Not just meat, but RAW meat on the menu… and I eat it all. Shavings of raw lard. Ground up who-knows-what. Slices right off the moldy leg bone.
Bring it on.
by Maureen | Jan 20, 2010 | Discoveries, Food!, Journal, Shopping & Markets
Mmm. It’s 10:00 p.m. and I just cut into a big chunk of Cinghiale Bresaola – uncooked, aged, wild boar meat. (Cinghiale: ching-GHYA-lay) Yum. So good. Peppered on the outside. Dense/firm. Deep red.
I bought it at the artisanal fair the beginning of last December when I sampled foods from every region in Italy. It’s been waiting for the right moment since then. The woman at the booth gave me samples of bresaola, lardo, prosciutto, salami… I didn’t need dinner that night!
Here’s some further reading about cinghiale.
by Maureen | Jan 17, 2010 | Introspection, Journal
It’s an odd position to be in this limbo of not knowing how long I’ll stay in Italy. My original plan was to be here for a year, but as my Seattle departure date approached last June, I thought, and all my friends concurred, that one year might not be long enough.
I arrived in Milano. I got my apartment “comfortable enough for a year”, and I’ve settled in “just enough”. As it turns out, I’m more than a tourist, but not quite a real resident. I’ve got “short timer’s complex”. Uncomfortably, I am neither here nor there. Most friendships I make will likely be short term. Any household goods I buy will likely be the most minimal and least expensive “because I’m leaving sometime”. The emotional investment is greater than that of a tourist, but is still restricted. This is an odd phenomenon to have put myself in the middle of.
I arrived here June 18; it is now January 17, 7 months later. I know that I have a trip planned to Seattle in late Spring, and then again at the beginning of August. Will the flight in August be simply for a visit, or a return home “for good”?
There are more than 6 months in front of me during which I intend to be living here. Six months is many times more than most people can ever dream of being here in Italy, yet I’m feeling “the crunch” of departure. The other day an almost-panic set in and I started to think of all the things I haven’t seen or done yet in the last 7 months! Huh. So I started making my list of “Must-See, Must-Do”. Weird. I plan to be here AT LEAST for another 6-months-plus, yet my sights are already on departure in August. Ooo. Not good. Granted, that panic might fuel a frenzied string of weekend train trips to all-parts-Italy, plus a few flights to places more distant, but the MINDSET is what I’m concerned about. Focussing on departure means I’m not here, I’m already leaving. That doesn’t create a rootedness… But how does one root when she knows her time is limited?
Starting out with an imagined end-date has contributed to this limbo. But how does one have the boldness to say “I’m moving to Italy”, instead of “I’m moving to Italy for one year.” Whoa!!! Those two are ENTIRELY different in feel! Those two statements are worlds apart. I made the second choice, adding “…for one year”, and that colors my whole experience.
I constantly monitor personal and professional considerations when discerning the best time to return to Seattle – when my few belongings will be packed and shipped, my Milanese apartment will be vacated, and goodbyes will be said. The other day I recognized the push/pull of it. There are things here in Italy that pull me in to stay; there are things here that push me back. And Seattle – and the U.S. – have their own push/pull. All of it swirls and mixes and tumbles and stirs me deeply.
So, not having any solid answers, I’m making plans for Bergamo, Firenze, Savona, San Remo, Torino, Roma, Venezia, Sicilia and as much of Italy as I can lay my eyes on. And I intend to set foot in Germany, Spain, Greece, England, the Netherlands… and places I haven’t even conjured for myself yet. Hmm. Sounds like either a LOT of travel, or more than 6 months… or both.
by Maureen | Jan 17, 2010 | Cheese, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Meals, Quips
This could easily be the next big thing. The new, chic food. All it would take is some hip New York restaurant to put it on the menu and spread the word. Or a Guru T.V. Show Chef to rave about it: The All-American Grilled Mortadella Burger.
You could cut a half inch thick slab of Mortadella into burger sized rounds, put those pieces on the grill with some wood chips for a little smokiness, then cook ’em hot ’til those little cubes of fat are translucent and dripping onto the coals. Flip those slabs and cook ’em some more.
You could go “classic” burger, with a white bun, cheddar cheese, tomato, lettuce, ketchup and yellow mustard. Or elevate the burger to gourmet on an artisan bun with some perfect Italian cheese, spicy/sweet mustard from the Trentino-Alto Adige region and a slice of tomato. Arugula instead of lettuce?
I usually see Mortadella as a sausage over 8 inches wide, scattered with lovely little cubes of fat throughout the ground “meat”. Peppercorns and pistachios are here and there throughout. Don’t call it “baloney”, although that’s the closest equivalent in the U.S.
Mortadella has origins in the town of Bologna and has been made for hundreds of years by very resourceful pig farmers unwilling to waste any part of the animal. Hmm. What does that say about what ends up inside the sausage casing? Do we want to know? Salt, peppercorns, seasonings, wine and pistachios are added to the 7:3 ratio of pork to fat. The Mortadella is cooked, then cooled.
For further information, check out this site: lifeinitaly.com
by Maureen | Jan 17, 2010 | Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos, Quips
Getting out at Milano Centrale Metro Station to change from one line to another, I came up the escalator and was faced with this beautiful, colorful, tired doorway. Gorgeous.
by Maureen | Jan 15, 2010 | Canals, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos, Quips
January 7, at 40 degrees on a gray day, I bundled up and hopped on my bike for a ride along the canal. Down a ways, with a construction site on the opposite shore, I spotted a calico looking quite content, “meatloafing” on a pallet of concrete blocks. The guy smoking on the balcony beyond must have thought it odd for a cyclist to stop and shoot such an image. As I was remounting my bike, a tortoise-shell that I hadn’t noticed jumped up from another pile of building materials.
by Maureen | Jan 15, 2010 | Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Graffiti & Street Art, Introspection, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos
Walking past the bus stop, this ad stopped me in my tracks. McDonald’s. (A stranger in few parts of the world.) The assurance of 100% Italian Meat. The seared map of Italy on the big Mac meat patty. “When you eat our meat, it’s a whole other story, all Italian.
Here’s a link to their website.
As long as we’re on the subject of McDonald’s… When I was traveling around Toscana – Tuscany – a year and a half ago with 17 college students, there were two guys in the group, ages 19-20ish. I remember how relieved they were when we’d see a McDonald’s. “Finally! Food I can recognize!”, one of the guys exclaimed. What?! He didn’t recognize pizza, spaghetti or lasagne? He was in Italy, for God’s sake. This is the land of good food, and he was overjoyed at the sight of the golden arches!
While we were walking around Rome, we encountered one of those sidewalk-chalk-artists, redrawing a Botticelli painting on the asphalt. He must have been tired of answering “Where’s the ____ ?” questions, because he had these responses, with arrows, on the pavement next to him. I like his last answer: “So… you travel to a new country, famous all over the world for its food and wine, and you want to eat at McDonald’s…”
by Maureen | Jan 11, 2010 | Canals, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, People, Photo of the Day, Photos, Travel Blog
“I was born in 1945 during the war years and I grew up with family members all around me talking about politics and The War. They didn’t always agree. I think that being surrounded by these discussions as a child is why I love history so much today.”
Today Angelo became my second personal tour guide in two weeks, giving me yet another “3-hour-tour”. I just rode my bike all around the countryside southwest of Milano with my “History Buff on Wheels”.
Angelo pointed out the “Fontanile di Vernate” one of the places where the spring forms a pond.
Oh yes. So lovely decked out in my winter riding gear…
When the sun came in the window this morning for the first time in ages, it woke me up and promised me a 45 degree day and my treasured, usual bike ride. I got the day, but not my usual ride. After pedaling along the Naviglio Pavese for about 20 minutes, I caught up with another rider and remarked how nice it was to be out. We talked for a minute or two as we rode, then I zipped ahead feeling full of energy and wanting to go faster. But he caught up with me. It was Angelo. We rode on, talking all the way. Feeling spontaneous and trusting, I agreed to his suggestion that we ride on further than I normally would have gone.
(I usually keep my rides to an hour and a half or two hours, and haven’t done much exploration alone on the more remote bike paths.)
Sure! Encounter some man on the bike trail and follow him all over the countryside! But of course!
We ended up riding on the narrow roads that wind between rice fields and other farm land. The whole time Angelo was relaying the history of Milan, Italy, Europe, WWII, Mussolini and Hitler… Berlusconi, Bush and Obama. He talked about the hardships during the wartime and how people were sustained by the rice of southwest Milano. (He doesn’t speak a word of English, by the way.)
Angelo’s father’s birthplace is in the distance, where the church steeple is.
He pointed out where both his mother and father were born, and where they are both buried (Zibido San Giacomo). Angelo took me to old, fortified “cascine” – country farmsteads with castle-like main buildings and outbuildings – most refurbished and still in use as modern-day farms carrying on. He pointed out places where Leonardo da Vinci had been, worked, designed and created. Leonardo’s hand and mind are all over this local land.
The entrance to Cascina Femegro.
Within the inner courtyard of Cascina Femegro is this beautiful arched doorway. Straight across from it, 100 yards, are cattle in their stalls. A little girl was riding on her tricycle.
I saw a shrine in Zibido to Padre Pio (who had the “stigmata” markings matching Christ’s); the sarcophagus of San Giacomo, c. II-IX cent. – St. James – in the central courtyard of the town by the same name; and an old cascina, “Ca’ Grande”, Palazzina Pusteria Busca Pozzi.
Shrine in Zibido to Padre Pio
The church at Zibido San Giacomo.
Sarcophagus of San Giacomo.
This is the memorial to those from the town of Zibido San Giacomo that have died in the wars.
An old cascina, “Ca’ Grande”, Palazzina Pusteria Busca Pozzi.
(While riding through Zibido, Angelo’s daughter passed us in her car, going home. He rode to the house a half block away and told her about “this American woman”.)
Angelo explained the “marchite” – marshes – the rich, fertile land perennially wet from “i fontanili”, the underground aquifers and springs of the area. During the winter the ground’s surface may freeze but the ground itself is kept warm by the rising water. The farmed land has been formed into wide, humped rows, allowing the water to flow between the rows; the row peaks begin to grow grass earlier in the Spring than other locales. The milk from cows raised on this grass is said to be superlative.
Le Marchite – The Marsh Farmlands
An old “cascino” back alongside the Naviglio Pavese, at the turnoff to Zibido; I think Angelo said it was “San Lorenzo”. Leonardo spent time here. In the inner courtyard, there are bas-relief busts of various people jutting from the walls.
We figured this one must be Leonardo.
Of course there’s a cat in the courtyard!
Our route today was: South along the Naviglio Pavese to Binasco. West to Vernate and Calvignasco. North up through Rosate, back east to Noviglio, Mairano and Zibido San Giacomo. Angelo rode almost all the way back to Milano with me, to within 10 minutes of my apartment. He wanted to show me the maritime locks along the canal that Leonardo had designed.
Our route – in yellow – through the farmland. My usual route is down the canal to Binasco and straight back. I’m going to feel this unusually long ride tomorrow!
He suggested I make a ride sometime to the Morimondo Abbey founded in 1136, and to the town of Vigevano to see a show of Leonardo’s work.
(I’m on stun. I could not craft these experiences if I tried!)
by Maureen | Jan 9, 2010 | Cheese, Christmas & New Year's Eve, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Meals, Photos, Shopping & Markets
Have you ever wondered about the first ones to eat something new that they hadn’t encountered before? IS it edible? What PART is edible? Should it be eaten RAW or COOKED? What part do you DISCARD? What part is most DELICIOUS? How is it best PREPARED? What should it be eaten WITH?
Traveling to and cooking in a foreign country is much like being a “primitive man” asking all those questions about newly encountered food items. But at least when you walk into a grocery store or step up to a market stall, someone has done the preselection for you and you’re not out in the woods trying to discern edibility. If it’s in the store, SOME part of it must be edible.
For the last couple of months I’ve been seeing these very small, young, almost-flower-like artichoke heads in the street markets and grocery stores. Very beautiful, but what do they DO with them?! I had no idea, and passed them up, regretfully. I had eaten marinated artichokes scooped out of little jars. Had steamed softball-sized heads and eaten them, leaf-by-leaf dipping the ends in butter. And I’ve eaten that sinfully fat-laden, hot dip with artichoke hearts, cheese, mayo and who knows what else. But I’d never done much else with them or seen them offered other ways. Yes, I’m sure the recipes and methods are out there, but the ones I just mentioned seem to be the across-the-board standards for eating artichokes.
On the evening of New Year’s Day, I was out walking around the Duomo and decided to have dinner out. I picked one of the few restaurants that were open, perused the menu and decided I HAD to have “Insalata di Carciofi Crudi” – Salad of Raw Artichokes! I ordered a “Pizza di Quatro Formaggi” – a four cheese pizza – to go with the salad, but that was secondary in my mind.
What arrived at my table was a bowl with paper thin shavings of very young, tender artichokes, including about an inch of the stem. They had been drizzled with a “fruttato” – “fruity” – extra virgin olive oil and lemon juice, sprinkled with salt and freshly ground pepper and tossed together with some thinly sliced grana cheese. Wow! Delicious! Simple, fresh in the middle of winter and quite a surprise. NOW I knew what could be done with those flowery artichokes.
Tonight, at the grocery store, I didn’t pass them up. They sold some untrimmed with thorny tips and 8 inches of stem, and they sold trimmed, packaged groups of 4. I considered the prices and how much would be thrown away from either and bought those that had been trimmed.
Usually, I would “just wing it” and approximate what I had tasted on New Year’s Day, but I decided to look online to see if there were any guidelines to follow. In doing so I found a handy Italian cooking website: Buonissimo.org. (Sorry. It’s all in Italian.) The recipe I found was what I had surmised and described above.
I removed the outer, half dozen tougher leaves and trimmed both ends to freshen them up. Then I cut the flower heads in half.
Since I don’t have a mandolin slicer here, I used my best Shun Tomato Knife, sharp and serrated, and sliced the artichokes as thinly as I could. (I left the furry inner parts, figuring they hadn’t gotten prickly.) I put it all in a bowl with the grana padano cheese (a nutty, almost sweet, hard cheese similar to parmesan), abundant lemon juice and extra virgin olive oil. Shook a little sea salt and grated some fresh pepper then gave it a gentle tossing.
With my heaped serving of “Insalata di Carciofi Crudi”, I ate Norwegian, farm-raised salmon seasoned with Seattle’s Tom Douglas’ sweet/peppery Salmon Rub. The salad will become one of my new favorites. (If nothing else, it’s certainly good for the roughage!) But are the artichokian flowers available in the States?!
by Maureen | Jan 9, 2010 | Discoveries, Introspection, Journal, Paris, Travel Blog
This whole time (Italy, France…) is a lesson for me that my life experience is entirely a reflection of what’s going on between my own ears. For instance, Americans always say “The French are arrogant and unfriendly!”, but I refused to walk around Paris with that belief and viewpoint. So I extended myself and was receptive to the friendliness that was offered and had an entirely different experience than what others might have come away with. I’m sure that if I had believed the French were arrogant, I could have found all sorts of experiences to prove that belief!
This is an example for all of life, no matter where I am or what I’m doing. My trip here a year and a half ago was an earlier, very concentrated lesson in this. I remember thinking then, “Gee, this is a reflection about living life, not just traveling in Italy.” So it has made me more flexible, more open to the unexpected, more willing to change my own thinking and see things from another angle.
I think that another purpose for my being here is to figure out what I’m really passionate about. This is a time to pause and hone my thoughts about what I really love to do, how I love to spend my time… and with whom. I’m here to figure out what I’m passionate enough about that it’ll carry me for the next 20 or 30 years.
(Right now, whittled down to simplicity, I know it has to do with writing, making images and forging connection and community.)
by Maureen | Jan 9, 2010 | Cheese, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Meals, People, Photos
“Maureen, there are a few of us having some appetizers and wine. Why don’t you come join us?”
It was Mario, the regional director for ONAV, the National Organization of Wine Tasters. We had met a few times at their wine-tasting events: Prosecco-tasting, Barbera- and Barolo-tasting, Champagne-tasting. I’m going to attend their 9 week course in wine-tasting, beginning in February. Any of their gatherings, formal or casual, are opportunities to sample some diverse and very special wines… and meet new people.
I took the Metro across town, walked two blocks and entered the ONAV classroom full of tables and chairs. These four guys – Michele, Vicenzo (giving me a choke-hold), Mario, Carlo – sat at a table cluttered with meats, breads, wine, oil and sweets. (The three are long-time friends of Mario, not with ONAV.) As you can see, it wasn’t a stuffy group.
We sampled a number of wines and also enjoyed a tasting of Extra Virgin Olive Oil from the San Gimignano region.
I didn’t realize until afterwards that I should have gotten a photo of Carlo in his striped sweater, with Vicenzo in his striped hat and me in my striped coat. It would have been a highly-visual photo. (Vicenzo asked if I know of any American women I could set him up with.)
The table bore mortadella, salami and a raw, seasoned meat/fat combo that Mario simply peeled the casing off of and spread on bread. (I know the photo’s out of focus, but at least it gives you an idea of the meat’s appearance.) We ate from a large rustic loaf, a potato loaf, and Sicilian bread sticks and rounds.
There was a bone-white spread of pecorino and ricotta cheeses pureéd together. And a special treat was the “Lardo di Colonnata”, raw, salted, herbed pig lard, aged at least six months and served as thin slices on bread. Mmm, good!
(I’ve become quite fond of eating raw meats and moldy cheeses.)
We drank a sparkling red, a white, a rosé. The most “startling” wine was the deep red Ruché (Roo-kay); I had never tasted anything like it with its very distinct flavor. (I’ll have a better vocabulary to describe it AFTER I take the class.) You could ask for Ruché* at your local specialty wine shop, but its very low production makes it unlikely that you’ll find any.
Our little post meal sweets were dried figs and apricots from Sicily, and almond pastilles that are frequently offered as favors at weddings. (In the States, too.)
The very special end-note to the evening was a wonderful Passito di Pantelleria from the tiny little Island of Pantelleria, Italy, between Sicily and Tunisia. Passito, made from dried and shriveled moscato grapes, is a gorgeous amber color and a drink that requires every sip to be savored. I couldn’t keep my nose out of the glass; the scent was divine.
Below, on the right, is a bag of the not-fully-dried, shriveled moscato grapes used for making passito. You can eat them much like raisins.
Ruché (from Wikipedia):
Ruché is a red Italian wine grape variety from the Piedmont region. It is largely used in making Ruché di Castagnole Monferrato, a small production red varietal winewhich was granted Denominazione di Origine Controllata (DOC) status by presidential decree on October 22, 1987. The current DOC recognized area of production for the wine, covers only about 100 acres [[40 hectares) of vines around the villages of Castagnole Monferrato, Refrancore, Grana, Montemagno, Viarigi, Scurzolengo andPortacomaro.[1] Ruché di Castagnole Monferrato is, therefore, one of the lowest production varietal wines in Italy. The grape is also grown to some extent in the neighboring province of Alessandria.
There is some debate about the origins of the Ruché grape. One theory is that the varietal is indigenous to the hills northeast of the town of Asti. Another theory is that the grape is a local variation on a French import. It has been grown in the area for at least one hundred years but has only recently been marketed and consumed outside of the immediate vicinity of its production. Ruché di Castagnole Monferrato tends to be medium bodied with notes of pepper and wild berries and floral aromason the nose.[2] The wine is often characterized by moderate acidity and soft tannins. In the Piedmont region it is often paired with slow-cooked beef, northern Italian cheeses and mushrooms.
by Maureen | Jan 7, 2010 | Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, People, Photos
Gotta love these Italians. They had two national, Catholic holidays at the beginning of December. Then two weeks off for Christmas and New Years. Then, today is the Feast of the Epiphany, also a national holiday. (Italy is about 98% Catholic.) A lot of people took this whole week off since they were already on a two week break and why come back for two days, have one day off, and then come back for two more days before the weekend? Might as well extend the two weeks into three.
There was a parade through town for the Epiphany. Actually two parades: the official one of Magi and Wise Men, then the parade of older, Milanese women in their fur coats. I must have seen a thousand fur coats today. Boggling.
After rain, snow, cold and gray, the 45 degree day brought the crowds out. It seemed that this must be the traditional time to strut one’s fur. Amazing. I was more amused by playing sleuth photographer and people-watching than I was by the pageant of the “real” parade.
(I shudder at some of the faces of these women. Some look cold and hard.)
The furs were worn with argyle, cashmere and hand-knit. With fur hats and berets. There were full-length, knee-length, sporty-short, wraps and stoles. There were SO many women in furs, that it was comical, an exaggeration. Was anyone else noticing?
by Maureen | Jan 2, 2010 | Christmas & New Year's Eve, Discoveries, Introspection, Journal, People, Photos
From my journal entry, New Year’s Day 2010:
I took off walking toward the Duomo at 4:10 today. It’s New Year’s Day. I needed to get out of the house and get my body moving. I decided to zig zag through the “neighborhood” on streets I’ve never seen before, rather than take the sure, known route.
Along the way, an old woman approached me while walking her dog. She had seen me from a distance blowing my nose in my hankie. She rattled something off fast. “Non capisco,” I said finally. “What do you mean you don’t understand!?”, she said in Italian. We ended up comparing handkerchiefs. (Hers had embroidered flowers on white linen. Mine was deep magenta with big, off-white polka dots) I said I had handkerchiefs from my “nonna”.
She stood there in her patterned, fleece pants, just-this-side-of-pajamas and commented on the large size of my coat buttons. “Yes. They’re as big as plates!”, I said. “We could eat off them!” We both laughed, then wished each other a happy New Year and walked on.
It was late afternoon, getting on toward evening. The light was dimming and I was walking where I never had before. But I knew my general direction, took the lesser roads and kept moving. The streets were vacant. Hardly a car. Not a pedestrian. But as I neared the area of the Duomo, a few more people appeared, a few more restaurants and cafés were open (no shops!) and the energy picked up.
This house was in a cozy, little area of narrow streets, just north-east of me. What’s its history?!
I came to another street corner and stopped in my tracks at the sight of the Church of Santa Maria and San Satiro on a site originally established in 879 a.d. Where did that come from!? Just one block off the main drag through town! I had never seen it before.
When I walked in, New Year’s Day evening, a small group of people was being led aloud in saying the rosary. I chimed in in English while I was there.
Heading for Monte Napoleone to see the window displays, I went north and to the east. The shops along that exclusive, narrow street are outside of my reach or comprehension. Actually shopping there is not a thought. My real goal was getting exercise and being out of the house, so I simply strolled and looked and shot a few photos until I got hungry.
by Maureen | Jan 2, 2010 | Christmas & New Year's Eve, Discoveries, Journal, Paris, People, Photos, Travel Blog
I haven’t seen this much fur ever, anywhere. Between Milano and Paris my eyes are full-up with fur coats! Women stroll arm-in-arm with a sweetheart or a girlfriend and browse the shop windows in their below-the-knee, full length coats. Fur ruffs. Fur hats and shawl collars.
by Maureen | Jan 1, 2010 | Featured Articles, Journal, Paris, People, Photos, Travel Blog
New Year’s Eve. “Capodanno” they call it here. Fireworks are going off in the distance.
Having just come back from the energy of Paris, I don’t feel compelled to go downtown tonight, but will follow my tradition of spending the evening writing. Part of that act is the reflection on the past year, and for 2009 the novelty is in the last 6 months, since I moved here to Milano in June.
When I decided to move here, I very consciously wanted to have relationships. I wanted to form friendships and know people. I didn’t want to remain on the outside surface, as tourists do, but rather touch hearts and have mine touched. I left behind my treasured communities in Seattle, and came here where I had none.
Reaching this 6-month mark, I started to think about all the people I’ve gotten to know in big ways and small. I see people at school. At some of the stores I frequent. I’ve met some while traveling. And now, even see familiar faces while just out walking in the neighborhood. I’m creating what I wanted!
Allow me to introduce you to some of the many people I’ve either enjoyed a single, rich conversation with, or have had the pleasure to create a friendship with:
JUSTINE – Kenyan. I met Justine soon after I arrived and now I shop at that store a mile away just so I can say “hello” to her. Here she is cutting prosciutto for me.
EVELINA, BRUNELLO & GLENDA – Italian. These are the three I work most closely with at NABA.
PIOTR & EWA – Polish-German and Polish. We met in the summer when our tables were an inch apart and I was eating octopus. We’ve been getting together once a week or so ever since! Eva is a Pharmacist and Piotr is a retired conductor from Teatro alla Scala.
NARIN – Thai. Architectural faculty member from Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok.
PETE & ERIN – Australian. We met on the bike trail in the morning, and they slept on my fold-out bed that night! They were biking around Europe for 6 months and relying on the kindness of strangers.
ORIETTA – Italian. Concept researcher and trend forecaster in fashion and accessories. An instructor at NABA.
LYDIA – Swedish. Lydia makes the way smooth for NABA’s agents.
DOMENICA & PAOLO – Italian. They have the Spezia Pasticceria that creates those incredible pastries I’ve shown. They’re two blocks away from me, and we met when he did a search on the pastry shop and found my blog. They make the best pastries in town.
ANASTASIA, EMANUELE & ENCARNA – Greek and Spanish. Emanuale is the Consulate General of Greece. We shared a table and the dance floor at the Thanksgiving Dinner.
ENZA – Italian. Born in Sicily, raised back-and-forth between there and Australia. She and her husband own the corner grocery where I buy my water, and we chat.
TOMA – French, but has lived in Italy for years. He’s established in fashion and teaches at NABA.
BARBARA – President of the Benvenuto Club.
BRUNELLO – Italian. Vice President of NABA.
LILY & TOM – Irish. My cousins from my family’s historic homeland in Fermanagh County, Northern Ireland.
LEE – British, but she’s been in Italy a long time. Lee’s been working in fashion for about 30 years. She was my Fashion Design instructor in 2008 at NABA.
CIRO – Italian. A One-man Chamber of Commerce for the town of Casamicciola on the Island of Ischia.
SAM, PATRICK & MOMO – French and ? These three are fishmongers down the street from my hotel in Paris. Patrick, in the middle, speaks some Spanish, so between that and sign-language, we all had some laughs.
DAN – American. From Ohio University, working with NABA. Executive Director and Professor of Geography.
EVELINA & GLENDA – Italian, though Glenda lived in the U.S. for 8 years. These two coordinate the myriad details of the NABA summer and semester programs.
LUCA – Italian. We’ve discussed “Italian Design Methodology” and the differences in teaching methods between Italian schools and U.S. schools. Luca is NABA’s Design Program Coordinator.
DIMITRI & VERA – Russian. Architects, instructors at NABA.
ENIEL – Cuban. Moved to Paris 5 years ago and speaks some of 5 or 6 languages. Loves history and was my personal tour guide in Paris.
MADALENA & EMILY – Italian and Australian. Madalena lives in the mountains near Milano, and teaches Italian language courses. Emily is a student in my class.
AHMAD – Pakistani. Living in Venice and assisting his brother with his restaurant, “Noemi”.
FRANCESCO – Italian. Architect and instructor at NABA. He’s engaging and involved with the students.
GISELLA – Italian from Sicily. She has a Siciliano bakery just down the street. Sometimes I’ll buy little regional specialties from her.
HASSAN & SEBASTIAN – Iranian and German. We’ve been in Italian language classes together.
IDA – Italian. We met at the Benvenuto Club Christmas Bazaar, which is a fund-raiser for several local charities.
JAMES – British. He’s opened up a shop here selling textiles and is taking Italian language classes, too.
ROLANDO – Italian. We met on the train to the airport. I was on my way to Seattle. He was on his way to an EU gathering of parachutists from 10 different countries. He was in the Army in the mid-60s. He pulled B&W photos of his father out of his suitcase to show me.
MARZIA & FRIENDS – Italian (Sicily), Russian and ? Marzia’s on the right and after we had gone out for “apperitivi”, we met up with her friends at another restaurant. Marzia is also with NABA.
REMO – Italian (from the south). A Materials Engineer. We’ve had some good conversations and I sat in on some of his design classes at NABA and accompanied them on field trips.
OZDAN, SEBASTIAN & EMILY – Turkish, German & Australian. In this photo, they were doing a skit in our Italian language class.
NORM & JOE – Irish. My Guinness drinkin’ buddies in the far northern reaches of Ireland.
JAN – Norwegian. He got talked into wearing a “Babbo Natale” hat at the Scuola Leonardo language school’s Christmas party.
by Maureen | Dec 28, 2009 | Christmas & New Year's Eve, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, Paris, People, Photos, Travel Blog
By day’s end, my feet were screaming. The “slow museum shuffle” is exhausting, more so than walking briskly for 5 miles. I had to get back to my room, unload the few things I carried and take a break.
The subway system, with two transfers, consumed 45 minutes, then I arrived at the Maubert-Mutualité stop. I started up the hill to the Hotel Moderne Saint Germain and paused outside the Magic Shop. I’ve been passing by every day this week, and this time, wondered if there might be something magical to take home with me. I went in.
I laughed and asked the man if he speaks English. “Yes”. (Quite well, really!) I told him that I wondered if there might be something special for me to take home.
“Yes. Of course. Let me show you this trick.” He showed me “magic” with 8 playing cards and I was bowled over. 13 Euros. I had to have it. A simple set that would make a great party amusement (once I learn it).
Then he took two inch-and-a-half, soft, foam balls. He gave one to me and had me squeeze it tight in my fist. The other one he held tight in his own palm. “One, two, three”. He opened his hand, and showed me the other as well. No ball in either. I was reluctant to open my hand and said I’d have to fall on the floor if there were two balls in my palm. …There were, of course! (But I didn’t fall down.) I couldn’t believe it. Of course I had been very attentive to everything while he did the trick, but apparently not to the right things. How did that second red ball end up in my hand?!
One last trick: a Chinese coin and an American 50 cent piece. I picked one, the 50 cents. He handed me the Chinese coin and it went into my hand which clenched tightly around it, fingers down. The 50 cent piece was set onto the back of the same hand that was holding the Chinese coin. He took a playing card, covered the 50 cent piece with it and tapped the card. When he removed the card, the CHINESE coin was sitting on top of my hand and the 50 cent piece was tight in my fist. How the coins traded place, I have no idea.
So I ended my time in Paris with a short magical evening. Even if I never learn the trick I bought, the 13 Euros bought me laughs, entertainment, amazement and conversation.
The shop, Mayette Magie Moderne, is (allegedgly) the oldest magic shop in the world at 201 years. My magician for the evening was Quoc Tien Tran, who was born and raised in Paris and has been “doing magic” since age 6 or 7. (His mom told him it’s a “gift from God”.)
As I was getting ready to leave the shop, a mother and her very young son came in. Quoc Tien stepped right up to do a disappearing ball trick for the little boy (who will probably grow up to be a magician because of that ball.)
THREE BASIC RULES OF MAGIC (As they were explained to me):
1 Never explain the trick.
2 Don’t perform the trick twice in the same instance or for the same person.
3 Perform it only when YOU’RE ready to perform it, and you know it very well.
What an enchanting and amusing way to end my time in Paris!
Mayette Magie Moderne
8 Rue des Carmes
75005 Paris
TEL: 01 43 54 13 63
WEB: www.mayette.com
Metro: Maubert-Mutualité
by Maureen | Dec 27, 2009 | Cheese, Christmas & New Year's Eve, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Meals, Paris, Photos, Travel Blog
Journal Entry:
“8:00 P.M. After a day at the Louvre.
I’ve just eaten the most sumptuous dinner at a little restaurant/bar, “Louis Vins”. The food had me melting at the first bite.
Le Louis Vins, 9 Rue de la Montagne Ste Geneviève, 75005 Paris, France
I ordered the warm goat cheese salad, which had rounds of cheese crusted with pistachios (?) and grilled, served on a dressed bed of mixed greens. The warm cheese was lovely.
For my main course, I absolutely savored the “Araignée of Porc with Trompettes de la Mort” mushrooms. The drizzles of sauces had me relishing every bite as the flavors lingered. Fabulous! I’m drinking a nice red, 2006 Crozes Hermitage.
(My language skills translated “Trompettes de la Mort” as “Trumpets of Death”, but when I researched the name, it came up as “Horns of Plenty”. Hmm. So much for my language skills.)
…Oh! They just brought my “Cold Creamy Cake Candied Chestnuts”, drizzled with some sort of heavenly sauce! Out-of-this-world divine! My mouth is in a dream.
by Maureen | Dec 26, 2009 | Christmas & New Year's Eve, Featured Articles, Journal, Paris
It seemed to me that the ultimate Parisian, Catholic experience would be attending Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve. (And it seemed the thought occurred to thousands of others, too.) It was raining last night at 8:00 as I walked from my hotel, across the bridge and toward the cathedral. What a sight with the church illuminated in the blustery, late evening!
I walked around to the plaza in front of Notre Dame, and it was incredibly beautiful with the lights and the Christmas tree. (No. I didn’t retouch or recolor the image to make the tree look blue.)
When I arrived just after 8:00, there was another mass going on, so I walked around and looked at the side chapels. Toward the end of that mass, I and countless others, positioned ourselves, ready. Within little more than 5 minutes after the end of mass ALL of the chairs (no pews) were full of those that had been waiting. A short time later, an image/light show, “Lumen de Lumine”, was projected on a taut panel of fabric, suspended above the altar. It was a narrated (in French) picture story of the birth of Christ.
The light show was followed by Christmas songs sung beautifully in both French and English. When they sang “Silent Night” in French and invited the participation of the congregation, I sang aloud in English. I imagine others did, too.
There were 6 little choir kids without blue robes, like this little girl. She was SO little and so young, yet so very intent on her singing.
I don’t know how many people fit in that cathedral, but it was standing-room-only, even out into the small side chapels.
Notre Dame has a grand organ and it accompanied the choir and priests.
There were about 20 priests present to assist with communion, though they did not concelebrate. The mass was in French, with a few responsorials in Latin. It might as well have been a Latin high mass, though. A foreign language in a cathedral like that… it had the SENSE of a high mass.
I was seated just 3 rows back from the front, so the frankincense was thick and fragrant. I like it.
I had arrived just after 8:00 in the evening, and was leaving at 1:30 in the morning. What a memorable life experience: Midnight Mass at Notre Dame. The rain had stopped, and as I walked home to my hotel room, I could hear the church bells pealing loudly all the way.
by Maureen | Dec 25, 2009 | Cheese, Christmas & New Year's Eve, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Meals, Paris, Shopping & Markets, Travel Blog
Hungry in Paris? Good food is never far away. I like that the stores are specialized and are clustered near each other. Hop from one to the next and gather enough for a very good meal. Here’s the selection of food stores at my metro stop, Maubert-Mutualité, on St. Germain.
The boucherie (butcher) and charcuterie (cooked meats and other delicacies):
The boulangerie (bakery):
The fromagerie (cheese shop) and wine shop:
And here are some of their goodies:
by Maureen | Dec 25, 2009 | Cheese, Christmas & New Year's Eve, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Meals, Paris, Shopping & Markets
What was for dinner on Christmas Eve in Paris? Fast food, Parisian-style!
From my journal yesterday:
5:30 P.M. Christmas Eve, Paris.
I’m eating in my hotel room, after spending all afternoon at Musée D’Orsay absorbing the impressionists and Art Nouveau and before heading to Notre Dame for Midnight Mass. At the Maubert-Mutualité exit for the metro, there’s a charcuterie, fromagerie, boulangerie and wine shop that I stopped at to buy dinner. The ultimate “fast food”! On tonight’s menu, (eaten in my room with Christmas music on “shuffle” on iTunes on my laptop):
– Escargots in puff pastry with garlic herb butter. 3 pieces for 3,00 €
– Foie gras roll with pistachios. 1 slice for 3,40 €
– A sort of Chevre cheese, donut-shaped and very moldy. 6,80 €
– Flan de Legumes (with broccoli). 3,80 €
– Puff pastry rounds, (eggy and moist). 4 small pieces 1,30 €
– Bordeaux. (1/2 bottle remaining from before). 4,50 €
TOTAL COST OF CHRISTMAS EVE DINNER 22,80 €
(With today’s exchange rate, that’s about $33.00, but I figured that was fine for my Christmas dinner.)
…and it was delicious.
by Maureen | Dec 25, 2009 | Journal, Paris
Christmas. Friday. 9:11 PM. My suitcase just arrived from my flight on Monday.
I can change my clothes tomorrow.
(Don’t fly Air France.
They’ve handled this poorly.)
by Maureen | Dec 24, 2009 | Christmas & New Year's Eve, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Journal, Paris, People, Photos
Group tours aren’t generally “my thing” but I found out in Washington D.C. a few years back that hitching a ride on a tour bus is like a crash course in the new city. (Not literally, of course!)
So I decided to take the “3-hour cruise” of Paris with a tour group: drive around to see the main sights, then finish with a sunset boat ride on the Seine, seeing the Louvre, D’Orsay, Eiffel Tower and others from the water, shoreward.
My driver picked me up at the hotel at 1:15, a bit earlier than scheduled, then we drove across town in his touring van (no big, long bus) to pick up other passengers… Along the way, Eni (Eniel) gave me running commentary. We arrived at the other hotel and I waited in the van. Eni came back and told me I was having a personal tour. The others had cancelled.
Born in Cuba, and moved to Paris in 2004, Eni speaks half a dozen languages or more. We used English, Spanish and Italian, and I couldn’t have asked for a more pleasant afternoon in Paris. For three hours he whipped that van around the city as only a local could. (Oh, the traffic he wended through!) We talked about the city, but also about personal aspects of living here, of having moved across the globe, of world politics, of culture, of our lives. How could I have planned all that?! He loves history, so he’s absorbed details that made the time more than just a driving tour. And he pointed out things on back street corners that no visitor would hear about.
I was always “Lady”. (Maybe that’s what he calls all the female passengers.) “Lady! At that restaurant they charge you 10 euro for a cup of coffee!” He recommended a restaurant for Christmas dinner (Le Veux Paris) and told me where the cheaper shopping is located. In 3 hours, we just about covered all the arrondisements of Paris and their highlights, and it wasn’t from a slow-moving bus.
At the end of our drive, he dropped me off at the boat launch at the base of the Eiffel Tower. We shook hands and he saw me off.
I told Eni that I have friends scheduled to come to Paris, and got his contact information. If you’re planning to be in Paris and want a personalized tour like only Eni could show you, get in touch with me and I’ll give you his number and e-mail address. It was absolutely time and money well-spent and gave me an overview that assures me that I’ll just HAVE to come back again and again to this city.
by Maureen | Dec 23, 2009 | Christmas & New Year's Eve, Journal, Paris, People, Quips
If someone had said to me: “You’re going to Paris for a week, but the only thing you get to wear is what you wear on the plane” I would NOT have picked the following: a bra, heavy opaque tights, black polartec pants (almost sweat pants, but snug), gray cashmere turtleneck, off-white polartec pullover, a red-striped neck scarf, my “chic” gray and white striped swing coat, black beret and gloves, heavy wool socks, pearls and gore-tex hiking boots.
But that’s what I’ve got. Tomorrow will be day four, Christmas Eve and I haven’t changed my clothes since Monday. So chic! So elegant! So Parisienne! (Not even a pair of underwear to worry about changing.)
My flight left a half hour late on Monday because of the weather. Patches of snow remained on the runway, and the sky was that “looks like snow” kinda sky.
After arriving in Paris at about 12:30, all of us passengers went to baggage claim and waited. And waited. And waited. I don’t know how in the world it was possible, but NONE of the passengers’ bags had been loaded onto the plane in Milan. So, a planeload of people piled around the baggage service desk and waited to talk to the ONE person that was there to hand out forms and then add names to the claims list. I was finally walking away after two and a half hours. There was no use getting upset. I had my wallet, computer and camera. I was here for a week. I had enough clothes to stay warm. I felt badly for the people that were transferring and flying on to another country! The woman at the counter said the bags would fly out of Milan that night and be delivered Tuesday.
Yesterday I talked to a girlfriend in Milan and she said they got a half foot of snow on Monday and the airport was closed. I guess I made it out of town just in time! Needless to say, the bags didn’t make it onto the next flight.
I had been sure to have clothes both warm (for anticipated snow and cold here) and chic enough befitting of Paris. Here I am, however, in hiking boots and sweat pants. Sigh. But I DID get here before they closed the airport in Milan and didn’t miss my time in Paris. I might have to go out and buy some clothes though. It’d be nice to wear something fresh!
by Maureen | Dec 23, 2009 | Christmas & New Year's Eve, Featured Articles, Graphics, Journal, Paris, Photo of the Day, Photos
Today I simply followed inspiration and ended up south instead of north. I had all sorts of wonderful encounters with people along my wanderings and saw beautiful, delicious arrays in front of me.
…But right now, it’s approaching one in the morning (again, same as last night) and I’m too tired to post much, so I’ll throw you a bone with this fun image.
Joyeux Noel and Bon soir.
by Maureen | Dec 22, 2009 | Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Meals, Paris
After walking in a cold rain for several hours on my first evening in Paris, I wanted something HOT in my belly. I wanted a hearty soup or stew. I walked into the Brasserie Balzar, about 3 blocks from my hotel. Quite brightly lit and full of people. When greeted at the door, I said to the man, “do you speak English?” “No.” “Italian?” “No.” “Spanish?” “Mexican!” “Great. We’ll speak ‘Mexican’!” (Even though my “Mexican” is out the door since I’ve been speaking Italian.)
He showed me to a tiny little table in the corner next to the window. Perfect. I told him I wanted a nice hot meal and his menu suggestion seemed to have been some combination of Spanish and French and I really didn’t understand much of it at all. I told him it sounded great, got out my journal and waited.
My actual, “designated” waiter came to the table and HE spoke English. He recommended the French Onion Soup, to be followed by pepper steak with some sparkling mineral water and a nice red wine. (Chateau de Brague 2006, Grand Vin de Bordeaux, Bordeaux Superieur).
He and I ended up chatting here and there in between his serving the other patrons on a busy night. I had the perfect, cozy spot tucked away from the bustle and could just eat, drink, write, eat, drink, write for three hours. Ahh. Bliss on all counts.
Here’s a note from my journal: “The French Onion Soup was perfect after hours walking through rainy and cold Paris. That, and the lovely Bordeaux, have added a rose tint to my cheeks. The Pepper Steak, with its lovely sauce was fabulous and cooked ’til divine. I mopped up the sauce with the steak fries.”
The sauce on the Pepper Steak (after asking the waiter): Juice from the steak, pepper, cream, mustard, tomato (hardly a hint) and cognac.
I finished my first dinner in Paris with Creme Caramel. (Why not?) I was full and sated.
Brasserie Balzar (Ask for Jean)
49 Rue des Ecoles
75005 Paris, Latin Quarter
www.BrasserieBalzar.com
Tel: 01-43-54-13-67
While nestled in eating and writing, I also noted this: “I’ve been eating bread in Milan for 6 months and haven’t found any I like (except the Austrian-influenced bread from Trentino-Aldo Adige). I’ve been in France half a day and I already think the French make better bread than the Italians! (What I’ve found here in Paris) is dense, moist, varied, full of texture and flavor. THAT is bread that makes itself worth eating.” (I don’t mean to insult my Italian friends, but…)
by Maureen | Dec 22, 2009 | Christmas & New Year's Eve, Discoveries, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Meals, Paris, Travel Blog
From my journal entry, 21 December, 2009, 9:00 pm:
I just ordered French Onion Soup, to be followed by pepper steak and a nice red wine. (Chateau de Brague 2006, Grand Vin de Bordeaux, Bordeaux Superieur). I spent the last 5 hours walking across the Left Bank area, starting in the 5th Arrondisement, ending in the 14th. I was approximately aiming for the Eiffel Tower, but had to go all the way around the Luxembourg Gardens. It started to rain, just at the edge of snow, so I hopped onto the metro after staring at the map for a long time figuring the best route.
Cold and wet, I followed the crowds in the long-since dark evening for the several blocks to the tower. When it came into view, I saw that it was made of gold! (I hadn’t known that before.) (…Just joking.) Glimmering, illuminated, brilliant. Its spire disappeared and reappeared as the mist and low clouds drifted. What an incredible moment for my first sight of the Eiffel Tower!
The light, constant rain begged an umbrella but it was a juggle to steady it against the breeze and gusts while at the same time bracing the camera against a lamp post for low-light. I think the occasional rain drop on the lens adds to the wintry atmosphere in the images.
(By the way, no Photoshop filters, or otherwise, used on these photos. That’s exactly what the tower looked like.)
