by Maureen | Feb 15, 2010 | Cheese, Featured Articles, Food!, Journal, Meals, People, Photos
We got together to celebrate Anaïs’s 24th birthday with traditional Milanese apperitivi at an “art bar” in town. Several of us women from Italian classes get together outside of class for chats, bike rides and travel. Anaïs is one of them.
She’s from Cannes, France, and 3 of her friends drove over, (bringing her kitty with them) to spend her birthday weekend. There were 10 of us together around the table, representing 5 countries: 4 French, 1 Portuguese, 1 Turkish, 2 Italian, 2 American, ranging in age from 24 to 40-ish… and me. The language changed depending on the speaker and the listener.
The Milanese apperitivi tradition allows you to go to just about any restaurant in town, buy one drink for 7 – 9 euro and eat as much as you want from the buffet of appetizers: pizza and foccacia squares, bruschetta, pasta, french fries (!), sliced meats, cheeses, risotto, mini-tarts. A better apperitivi offering will include such things as steamed mussels, veggie sticks, interesting salads, and other foods that are lower carb and more artfully prepared.
After our apperitivi, several of us went out for dinner at 11:30 p.m. to a Mexican restaurant, while the others went to the disco.
by Maureen | Feb 12, 2010 | Discoveries, Introspection, Journal, Photo of the Day, Photos, Quips
Hmm. I might find me a cute, little Italian. All the right curves and straight lines. Just my size. Fits into tight places. Agile and responsive. Yah. Sounds good to me!
(I don’t know what YOU were thinking. I was talking about a CAR!)
Before I came here, I sold my Honda CR-V and figured I’d get something else when I returned. As I go around Milano, I look at all the cars and 98% of them have tiny, little footprints. Certainly better suited for the city than big SUVs and pickups.
So I think about “going small” (aren’t I already?) and getting one of the models I see here. For sentimental and purely irrational reasons, I keep thinking of getting a Fiat 500, or “Fiat Cinquecento” (ching-kway-chain-toe). It’s small. It’s Italian. And it would remind me of my time here. (Irrational rationale.)
It would also remind me of the day I went to the Triennale Design Museum and saw the wooden mold for the Fiat 600, (say-chain-toe), cousin to the Cinquecento, and then walked outside on that sunny day and saw a golden oldie original 500 parked out front. (Ahh, the things that sway decisions!)
Yes, there are Smart Cars; a chartreuse green one that parks in front of my apartment appeals to me because of it’s color. But the Smart Cars look like praying mantis heads. (Not necessarily a bad thing. I think of a former pet mantis named “Elvira”.) And there are a dozen other near-microscopic boxes-on-wheels to consider.
But what of road safety? When EVERYONE has a tiny car, such as here in Europe, that’s one thing. When most people have landboats, like in the U.S., a micro-vehicle wouldn’t stand a chance in a collision.
And what about repair and maintenance?
I don’t know. I have some time before I need to make a decision. A high-end bike may very well be my first vehicle purchase when I get back to Seattle, (whenever that will be).
Who out there knows about Fiats? Who knows what they cost? (I read online that they’ll be available in the U.S. in the late Fall.)
In the meantime, I’m just keeping my eye on these cute Italians and admiring what I see.
UPDATE: 13 Feb. 2010
I saw this little Fiat 500L along the street last night. It’s TINY! (Looks almost the same as the red one, above.)
by Maureen | Feb 10, 2010 | Journal, Quips
There’s just something about having my bedroom window on the ground level, facing the street. At about 5:30 in the morning the recycling truck pulls up and parks in front of my window. They roll the glass-sorting bins holding a building’s-worth of bottles up to the truck and dump them with an alarming clatter. Imagine the sound.
I know of less jarring alarm clocks.
by Maureen | Feb 9, 2010 | Introspection, Journal, Quips
I’m pouting. Tuesday morning and it’s 34 degrees outside. Sunday morning I was riding a bike along the sea, wearing a light t-shirt with blue sky overhead and sun on my face. Temperatures were in the 60s, which felt fresh and warm enough to remember the glory of warmer days.
After the dark, cold, wet days of Winter in Milan we will all have EARNED our Springtime here! I’m just a trainride away from warm sun. Hmm. Where shall I go for some sun in my eyes?
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 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 up in the “Cittá Alta”, 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 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 | 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 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?!
