Inspiration for Italian Cuisine

I know that some who might read my blog are interested in Italian cuisine. As such, here is the link to my Cuisine course's blog where recipes and stories are posted. Not very many articles have been posted this semester (except for one by my roommate Grace) but the site is still worthwhile as a source of inspiration.

http://buonaforchetta.wordpress.com/

Tomorrow we are supposedly getting a new oven. However, we have been hearing that story for about two months now. But, if the repairman decides to show up, I will finally be able to cook some of the dishes we have learned to make so far. Yay!

Birthday Morning

An early morning walk to the local shops this morning provided me with this stunning selection of fresh food to enjoy!

 

The strawberries were looking especially delicious (although now after attending my Italian Culture class and being told that strawberries are one of the most dangerous fruits to eat in Italy (because they come from the south where the Mafia controls the toxic waste disposal and usually doesn't dispose of it in the most "legal" of manners) I may not eat them).

 

The Easter season has arrived, and I am ringing in the Spring season by biting this little guy's delicious chocolate head off!

 

What could possibly be the cause of this smiling face?!?!

 

That's right, a lunch of good ol' Mac n Cheese sent by the loving and thoughtful Mom and Dad.

 

Happy Birthday to Me!

Creepy Italian Ducks

Today began with a plan: make it to Tuscania early in the morning for my second lesson on jewelry design. The day went however completely against the plan:

When I reached the bus station this morning, silly lil ole me went into the bus station—even though I already had my bus tickets—just to check and make sure I had the right time for my bus. As I was checking bus times, which bus should pull out of the parking lot? Oh yes, my bus. Rather than wait around for another hour and a half for the next bus, I decided to hop on the next bus and see where it took me.

Five minutes later I am sandwiched between a foggy window to my right and a plastic, graffiti-covered seat that doesn’t allow enough room for my legs.  Italians are generally short. The view was amazing. Spring is on the way and the fields are brilliantly green at the moment filled with grazing sheep. The bus took me through a town called Montefiscone, which is where one of the more famous wines we sampled in cuisine (Est Est Est!) is manufactured. Montefiscone is a beautiful town, but only a twenty minute ride away from Viterbo. I was feeling a little more adventurous, so I stayed on the warm bus.

Next stop was a town called Marta. Marta is beautiful and sits high above Lake Bolsena. An ancient tower appealed to me, but not enough for me to disembark.

Capodimonte brought me right to the water edge and I jumped off with a little, old woman carrying her groceries in one hand while clutching her head scarf tightly with the other. I walked into a café and ordered a sandwich and for a treat a donut. Capodimonte is the perfect town for a picnic, but seeing as I was alone, I enjoyed my sandwich on the water edge watching couples push strollers up and down the boardwalk and a little boy trying to real in his fishing line.

Exploring the town did not take long. I reached the top of the town—a little out of breath—within ten minutes of leaving the bus fermata. In Piazza della Rocca I found the town’s only fountain. Most of the cities I have traveled to are pockmarked by fountains, so I was surprised when I found the town’s only fountain was a very modern one (fourth picture down). There wasn’t anything else of interest in the piazza except for the phenomenal view of the lake below. I found a few little pathways down the side of the hill leading into the water. Sadly most of them once you came within 100 feet of the water, the paths became blocked off with Private Property signs. Although it was cold, I still wanted to dip my toes into the water—Italian Lake Water!

Walking through the town’s slopping, narrow paths I realized the only people I was seeing were older people. Down by the water’s edge I had seen the young ones playing on the play set near the water and throwing bread to the ducks, but here, in the ancient part of the town, I didn’t spot anyone under the age of eighty. The old men sat outside their homes, talking to one another from across the narrow streets as the apron-clad women walked back and forth glaring at their lazy husbands.

On every side of the peninsula, gardens dropped into Lake Bolsena. I was able to walk down one area—which resembled an amphitheater (picture right below)—right up to the water’s edge where I could see the boats parked for the day at the dock across the small harbor.

The docks were in the sun, so as I made my way back to the bus stop, I enjoyed the warmth and the view of the sailboats as I walked up and down the dock. Ducks were out and about and began to follow me thinking I must have food for them. I noticed a different kind of duck in the water, one I had never seen before. It was….a creepy Italian duck! Look!

Capodimonte will be an excellent place to go to for a little quite time once it warms up a bit.

   And what day trip would be complete without a gelato (although the zuppa di inglese tasted a bit like eggnog)?

Too Much!

Last night (Monday night), I had another culinary experience in a restaurant which looks like it could be the madhatter’s kitchen.  I had another class—Italian Literature—and so I showed up to the restaurant after all of the cooking had been done. Normally people would be happy they wouldn’t have to lift a finger, but I am really enjoying learning how to make Italian dishes. So, when I miss such an opportunity, eating the delicious food is not quite the same.

For the first course we had was an egg-like flan with a piece of turkey over top. I didn’t admit it at the time of course because I sat right next to my instructor, but this particular dish was one I could have gone without.

Next, we had ammmmmmaaaaazzzzzzinnnnnnnnggggggggggg lasagna.

The lasagna was followed by a piece of chicken sandwiched between pieces of fila and grilled vegetables.  The little mound of green there which looks like grass, well, it is grass. Tasty grass at least though.

Desert was of course carnival treats. We have here the traditional carnival cakes (which are somewhat like cake donut holes) as well as the flat carnival frappe (the flat ones with powdered sugar on top). We also had bakes raviolis with ricotta cheese and chocolate filling. YUMMY!

I could barely walk home, I was so stuffed! 

Vacant Eyes

Rows upon rows of plastered face paint, glitter, and feathers try to compensate for the vacant eyes which star back at me as I move from one stall to another outside of San Marco’s square. Occasionally those vacant eyes are filled by the hopeful tourist, curious whether their eyes are a match to the new character they will become. Many move from stall to stall, turning away from the insistent sellers who follow with their mirrors to show you who you have become. A woman in purple moves away from an outstretched mask as a mirror shatters to the ground: seven years bad luck. Each stand has at least four sellers circling like sharks to their prey.

Behind the stalls, near the vaporetto docks are the men selling their wares without stalls. A whistle blows near the bridge, which is ready to collapse under the picture-taking swarm, and one of the men pops up like a jack rabbit with his wares and runs, with a glance over his shoulder, away from the sound of the whistle. More and more costumed tourists disembark from the vaporettos as the few locals board them, The costumes bypass the colorful stalls and head directly into the crowd, pausing every five steps for a photo op, before reaching their ultimate destination of the square. To their right, underneath the a row marble pillars a couple sits, cuts off from the drunken celebration by a circle of flickering candles. Their gaze does not caress the many curious, painted faces of the crowd but only one another’s face. Within the chaos of Carnivale, these two have no need for the vacant-eyes plastic disguises, they can escape from the madness around them through the loving eyes of one another.

Anything Goes in Venezia

M&M’s, Victorian couples, and a Giant Snail on a skirt of lady bug-infested grass are only a few of the costumes swimming past me in a sea of color and festivity.  Chunks of paper fall from the sky like a shattered rainbow onto the masked crowds. Different bands play between the stalls selling straw hats and black and white striped t-shirts. One band, sporting elaborate, feathered Indian headdresses, begins to play the same song as a band nearby whose dreadlocks sway in the humming air, keeping time. This impromptu round gives the illusion you have not moved even as the crowd pushes and pulls your body past stall after stall of glass gondolas and lace umbrellas.

 

Past the vulture-like eyes of the sellers, my body is moved toward the bridge without my feet touching the confetti-covered ground. A loud whistle is blown in my ear and neon jacketed arms gruffly guide me to the correct side of the pedestrian bridge where the flow of foot traffic leads me into the wide opening of San Marco’s square. Sitting in the square, a stage’s bright lights flash on the faces of the screaming crowd, transforming the ancient site into a mosh-pit of color and jubilation. The white marble facades of the surrounding buildings become magical as the blue and green lights hit their time-polished sides.  

My chilled fingers wrap graciously around the hot cup of red wine handed to me by a friend as we stand watching the pulsing crowd. The crowd’s members—older and younger generations united by disguised faces—dance the night away under the clear sky of Venice: a magical city surrounded by water, where tonight, everything and anything goes. 

Soon, soon, soon

Sorry, it's been a busy week and I haven't had many chances to update my blog. But, I promise that when I return from Carnevale this weekend in Venice I will!!!