A DRIVE IN THE COUNTRY
Yesterday morning, sometime before we woke up, there was another surprise thunderstorm. We've had quite a few of these lately...none of them last long enough to gvie the ground a really good soaking, but at least the storms have come often enough so that everything is ataying nice and green. Another benfit of these storms is that the air is so incredibly clear afterwards, and combined with the next-to-nothing humidity that we have, you can see for miles and miles...or I guess here in Italy is would be kilometers and kilometers.
We took the road past Rotecastello, through Spineta, past Fratta Todina, then decided to head in the direction of San Terenziano. Along the way we stopped at the little mom and pop winery just outside of Bastardo where Art likes to fill-up our five liter jug, and while there we also bought a bottle of their olive oil....at this point we're just trying to get by until the new oil is ready sometime in November.
Here are the grapes we saw...
And the olives that are getting plumper....
And we also saw this field of strange looking plants with leaves like corn, and thanks to the wonders of the internet, several people have now told me this is sorghum......
And of course just the beautiful countryside...
MORE GOODBYES
August 22, 2006
We said goodbye to Virgil and Jean last night….today they’re driving back to Rome and flying to Vancouver. Goodbyes are always difficult, but I think this one was even more difficult because Jean and Virgil don’t plan to return.
Flying from Vancouver has got to be a killer flight…I’m sure it would take me a week to get over the jet lag, so for anyone to make this incredibly long flight it’s got to be taxing. Since Virgil and Jean are 81 and 79 years old, travel has become just a little more tiring, a little more strenuous. For this reason they’ve decided to concentrate their travels in North America.
We have to say that Virgil and Jean are our role models….they’ve been traveling the world for the past 24 years, often staying for months at a time. They’ve seen so much more of the world than we have, and probably more than most people. I’m sure that their travels have kept them young and informed.
Although it was sad to say goodbye, we’re so glad that we met Virgil and Jean, and of course the rest of the family as well. The house in San Venanzo was bought for their children, and we know we’ll be seeing Damon, Rachel and their families over the coming months and years.
Virgil and Jean firmed up the renovation plans for the house with Mauro before they left. Damon and Rachel had been able to talk about their ideas while they were here earlier in the summer, but final decisions had to be made, and now everything is set. Mauro said that the work probably won’t begin until the fall, but since no one will be in the house, that won’t be a problem. Hopefully when the next family member visits the pine paneling will be off the walls and the bathroom will have a nice large shower in place of the next-to-useless hip bath that’s there now.
NELLA MIA CUCINA ITALIANA (IN MY ITALIAN KITCHEN)
Moving to Italy presented a lot of challenges, not the least of which was trying to figure out all the kitchen stuff. Although I brought a lot of cooking utensils and plenty of cookbooks with me, there are still things I needed to buy here, like electrical appliances.
The first thing you need to do is to figure out what’s different, and once you have that down, you can combine the best of both worlds. Unfortunately for me, this hasn’t been an easy road.
Italians don’t use cups and teaspoons to measure ingredients. Most recipes will tell you how much flour, sugar or whatever to use by weight, which is where my new electronic scale comes in useful. This scale switches back and forth between ounces and grams, allowing me to convert American recipes to Italian style and vice-versa. Armed with this scale 
and Cristina’s handy conversion chart, I’m ready to cook.
The teaspoon/tablespoon conversion is a bit trickier. An Italian recipe will instruct you to use “a spoonful”. What spoonful? The tiny one for espresso? A teaspoon from the table setting? A tablespoon?
And then there are the recipes that tell you to use “a glassful”. Only because I have friends who’ve lived here for a while and who also cook do I know that this normally means this size glass, the one I call my everyday wine glass.  Yes, after you’ve been cooking for a while you get to know when a recipe needs a bit more of this or that, but it’s nice to at least know what the starting points are.
A trip to the grocery is interesting even if you’re only on vacation, but once you’re living here full-time you end up needing things that you probably never thought about when you were in that vacation rental.
First of all, you have to learn the Italian names for all your favorite spices, and then you need to discover, however painful it might be, just which of those aren’t available in Italy.
Coriander/cilantro? Better bring your own. Like lemon pepper and dill weed on your fish….stuff some in your suitcase. Vanilla extract? Celery seed? Cream of tartar? Bring ‘em along or do without.
Next you have to figure out what things are called in Italy. Oregano and basil are pretty easy to figure out, 
but cinnamon is called canella, nutmeg is noce moscata, and then there’s ginepro….juniper berries, which I NEVER used in the states, but use quite often here in Italy. I did bring a good dictionary of Italian/English cooking terms, and I use it all the time.
Cornstarch is here, but it’s called corn flour like it is in England. Additionally, when food terms are translated into English, quite often the British English will be used, not American English. Eggplants become aubergine, zucchini are courrgette and arugula is rocket.
Sometimes the things you want are here, but you just have to know where to look for them. Want baking soda? Don’t look with the baking stuff, check out the aisle with the bottled water and drinks.
Sugar is usually off somewhere all by itself, nowhere near the baking aisle either.
Eggs aren’t in the dairy case,  but usually on an unrefrigerated shelf near the boxed (UHT) milk.
Fresh milk is pretty expensive here…we pay about €1 for one liter, so we normally use the UHT (Ultra High Temperature) stuff, which is a little cheaper. 
We see people buying this UHT milk by the case, so this must be the norm. It comes whole (intero) and skim (parzialmente scremato).  Although the UHT milk comes unrefrigerated, make sure that once it’s open you keep it in the frig. It usually has a shelf life of 2 months or so (unopened), but be sure to check the dates when you buy it. I always reach to the back to get the milk with the longest shelf life.
In the dairy case you won’t find cheddar cheese or sour cream, (use plain yogurt as a substitute), and although cottage cheese is available here (Jocca by Kraft), Art’s says it’s not very good. You will find cream cheese here…just ask for “Philadelphia”, and sliced cheese similar to Kraft slices. (But don’t be surprised that it’s not orange…it’s white!) At first I thought it was ridiculous for a country that makes such amazing cheeses to make processed cheese, but when you want a grilled cheese sandwich, this works great.
Sometimes you have to know what to call the thing you’re looking for. Corn starch is called corn flour, and oatmeal
is called fiocchi di aveno. Although you can buy baking powder here, be careful! Most of the baking powder here will have vanilla flavor included, which might be fine if you’re making a cake, but if you’re baking biscuits it might not be what you expected. Look for “American style” baking powder, or better yet, bring your own.
I still haven’t figured out all the flour in Italy. Basic flour is either “0”, all purpose or “00” for bread. But then the shelves are lined with other flours….for tortas, for dolce, for pasta, even “American style”!  Maybe this is why my bread is never quite the way I want it.
Pickles are available in limited quantities, and I’ve never found the variety that we have in the states: dill, sweet, bread and butter, pickle relish, etc. We usually bring back sweet pickle relish from the states because Art likes it in his tuna salad, and a dear friend grew her own dill and pickling cucumbers so that she could enjoy a good dill pickle. She even shared a jar with us!
Don’t’ bother looking for Crisco or PAM, or even canola oil. You’ll find corn oil, sunflower oil and of course olive oil. If you don’t have Crisco you can substitute butter or lard (found in the dairy case). I’ve found that Crisco sticks pack quite nicely for those times when I lard or butter won’t do.
I haven’t found evaporated milk, but I have seen sweetened condensed milk….both in cans and in TUBES! Europeans seem to put lots of stuff into tubes and it’s such a great idea. Many years ago I saw tubes of mayonnaise in a Swiss grocery store, which made it quite handy to take on a picnic. I love having tomato paste in a tube…in the states once you open that tiny little can you either have to use it all at once or risk finding dried-up black tomato paste in your refrigerator the next time you look.
Red wine vinegar, white wine vinegar, apple vinegar and balsamic vinegar are here, but not regular white, distilled vinegar or apple CIDER vinegar, although I still don’t understand the differences.
There are no pecans in Italy, no Karo syrup, no rye flour (or rye bread for that matter). Ethnic food is made by Uncle Ben, so if you get a craving for Mexican or Chinese you might be able to put something together. I’ve bought soy sauce here, and some flour tortillas, but boy! are they expensive.
More and more convenience foods are creeping onto the shelves and into the frozen food case, but don’t expect to find pancake mix, chocolate chip cookie dough or Lean Cuisine. Don’t look for anything low or no fat, except yogurt and milk.
Yeast for bread doesn’t come in those cute little packets, or even the economy sized jar. Yeast here comes in little cubes with a much shorter life span that the packet yeast.
Back in the kitchen, I’m using all the stuff I brought with me, as well as quite a few handy new gadgets I’ve bought here. Of course I’ve bought the basic kitchen appliances….a mixer, a food processor and a toaster.
The toaster is a bit different….the bread doesn’t pop up automatically! If you want to spend a LOT of money you can buy a toaster with an automatic pop-up, but we’ve settled for the budget model. Because we only have 3.3 Kw of power coming into the house, an appliance like a toaster draws a lot of energy and the bread takes forever to toast. This is also the reason I haven’t bought a toaster oven in Italy. In the states I used my toaster oven a lot….for toast of course, but also for those times when I just needed to bake something small, or to reheat something that the microwave would turn to rubber. In Italy I’m afraid that it would take too long to cook anything and that the huge draw of electricity might cause the circuit to trip if I wanted to iron or use the washer.
Thank god they have stick blenders in Italy because I don’t know what I’d do without it!  My favorite recipe for spaghetti sauce starts off with everything being roughly chopped, then after it’s cooked down, tells you to transfer the contents of your HOT saucepan into a food processor. Yeah right…I can just see the mess I’d make trying to pour hot spaghetti sauce, and let’s don’t even think about the burns…or the clothes I’d ruin. A few quick pulses with the stick blender, right in the saucepan and I’m ready for dinner.
My new cherry/olive pitter, 
bought last week at the outdoor market, is wonderful, as is my cheese grater. 
Although it’s an Italian brand, my daughter gave it to me several years ago and I love it for grating large quantities of Parmesan cheese. When I need just a little something grated I was using this Microplane grater
until Art saw this one
 at a friend’s house. We bought one for ourselves during out last visit to the states.
I had to buy a pan to make crostata, 
a fruit filled pastry dish that’s popular here. I did bring my pie pans with me, as well as cupcake tins, although I have started to see them here. Although I usually make bread on my stoneware baking sheet, I also brought American style loaf pans too, for when I want to make a meatloaf or bake a loaf of American style bread.
One thing that was an unexpected purchase was a flame tamer.  In the states I cooked with gas, just like I do here, but for some reason the flame just doesn’t go low enough when cooking long grain rice. (Another thing you won’t find here.) The Italians don’t have a problem when they cook rice, because they’re usually making risotto which has to be stirred continuously.
When we first arrived in Italy I did see ice cube trays, but only ones that made those teeny tiny little cubes. I was glad I’d brought my own trays with me, but recently I’ve seen “normal” size trays on the shelf.
One kitchen gadgets I love is my food chopper,  another gift from my daughter. Since I’ve been in Italy I have bought a mezzaluna,  which is quite handy when I’m in a hurry, or when I need to chop frozen spinach just a little finer.
Speaking of spinach, I love the way it comes packaged in Italy. Instead of buying a frozen block of spinach, it comes in a bag filled with lots of small cubes of spinach. I just weigh out the amount I want, then stick the rest back in the freezer. This comes in quite handy when making cannelloni or ravioli….or when you just want to make a single serving.
I brought some flexible chopping boards  with me when we first arrived and I find myself still using them. It’s so easy to just curl the plastic up and carry the whole thing to the stove where you can just dump the chopped onions or whatever right into the skillet.
Ziploc bags aren’t found in Italy, so I usually try to stick a handful of them into my suitcase every time I visit the states. Out of the box they take up very little room and weigh next to nothing, which is a good thing since the airlines keep reducing the weight limits.
For whatever reason, Italian plastic wrap and aluminum foil are incredibly bad. The plastic wrap isn’t just thin, it’s damn near impossible to handle, and just trying to tear a piece off the cutting edge of the box usually results in one large tangled ball of plastic that’s impossible to lay flat. The aluminum foil is so thin as to be laughable, and I’m glad I included regular, heavy duty and the non-stick varieties in my shipment from the states.
Another item essential to make the transition was a good oven thermometer. My Italian gas oven doesn’t have a temperature knob that’s as easy to adjust as an American oven. It also tends to lose heat if the door is open tool long, then to overcompensate by heating up above 400º! Because of this, and because I’m now also using Italian recipes, knowing the exact temperature in Celsius or in Fahrenheit is a must.
I ordered a gas oven, thinking that it would be more reliable for many reasons. I wouldn’t have to worry about the electricity going out…something that I’d been warned could happen. I also wouldn’t have to worry about tripping the electrical circuit if I had the oven on and wanted to do something else requiring a lot of electricity, like ironing.
In Italy it’s possible to have three different levels of electrical service. The basic is 3.3 Kw, or for an additional charge you can move up to 4.6Kw, but you’ll also pay more each month. I’m not even sure how high the last choice will take you since it’s never even been a consideration for us. If you plan to have an electric oven, an electric dryer, or the most decadent choice of all, an air conditioner, be prepared to upgrade….and to pay dearly for your choices.
The size of a standard oven in Italy is also quite different. Don’t bother bringing your large roasting pan…not only will you not be able to find a 12-14 pound turkey to put into it, you also won’t be able to fit the roasting pan into your oven.
It is possible to buy a larger oven, but you’ll have to buy a one piece stove….the type that’s the most common in the states. Here in Italy it’s the norm to have a gas cooktop and an electric wall oven. If I had it to do over again, I’d buy a larger five burner stove with a large, American style oven.
As you can tell, my kitchen and I haven’t become completely “Italianized”. I’ve been fortunate enough to visit the states to replenish my supplies, or to have friends bring a few goodies when they visit. I still want a graham cracker crust when I make a cheesecake, vanilla extract and Ghirardelli chocolate chips when making a batch of cookies, and decaffeinated tea bags for iced tea. Art still wants Hellmann’s mayonnaise and sweet pickle relish, as well as some decaf coffee and pecans for a pie. I recycle the 48 ounce plastic mayonnaise jars and use them to protect salt, nuts, and other items from the humidity.
Speaking of plastic containers, I’m glad I brought a lot of plastic storage containers because they seem to be quite pricey here Additionally, I’m also glad I brought a one gallon pitcher from the states…I’ve never seen anything larger than a two liter pitcher here. It’s also nice to have my favorite Calphalon pots and pans and my Cutco knives. Every cook has his or her own special needs, and in my new Italian kitchen I’m happy to say that I have just about everything I could ever want or need.
IF YOU LOSE OUR BLOG ADDRESS...
I wrote one time before about using BLOGLINES to keep up-to-date with my blog. It's especially helpful when you want to keep track of several blogs, as I do. I still recommend Bloglines, but recently someone emailed me to say that they'd lost my blog address, which got me to thinking.
I get these emails from time to time...when someone's computer crashes or the link to my blog is accidentally deleted. So I just realized....if you go to Google, you can just type in "art and barb" and our blog should come up at some point....usually on the first page.
JUST ANOTHER TUESDAY NIGHT...
We invited Jean and Virgil to stop by this evening to enjoy a glass of wine and some cheese in our beautiful and tranquil garden. Art sliced up a melon, we drizzed some honey over the pecorino and put a bit of balsamic vinegar on the parmesan. I set out a few biscotti for a sweet touch and we opened a bottle of Sobrano from Franco Todini.(€4.50 per bottle)
The temperature outside was perfect...mild, calm, no bugs, no noise, good wine and good company. Just another wonderful evening in Umbria.....
A DAY IN OUR LIFE
People often ask us what we do all day. We usually look at each other, shrug our shoulders and say “Well, nothing really, but we’re busy all the time!” I thought it might be interesting for me to describe from time to time, a typical day, be it boring or busy. Today was pretty standard:
We wanted to get up early, but because we’d ridden up to Ospedaletto with Virgil and Jean the night before, we slept until about 8:15. We were really snuggled in good because it’s been so COLD at night….I mean cold, like 60º, maybe even colder up here in San Venanzo!! Cold as in pull up the bedspread and snuggle!
Art got a cup of coffee, and I got dressed and checked our email. Since we have unlimited time on the internet now, we’re really geeks about it. After checking the email and the Expats message board, I went downstairs to take a shower, and I wished I’d used the step ladder to close the window…it was really cold, especially after taking a hot shower.
We left for the market in Marsciano, knowing that it would be one of the most crowded market days ever. Tomorrow is ferogosto, a big, big holiday. It sort of celebrates the height of summer, the time when the Italians are all on vacation, visiting with their friends and family at the beach, or often in the small towns they came from. The population of small towns like San Venanzo must double or triple during August. Feragosto is also a religious holiday, the Assumption of Mary into heaven, I think, but even here in Italy, the religious significance takes a back seat.
We stopped to get gas at the regular station we go to, but they were closed. You can’t use a credit card with the automated pumps, you have to use a €5, €10 or €20 note. We like to charge as much as we can because we get the best exchange rate, so we drove on down towards the E45, to another station. The gas was actually cheaper there! (€1.20 per liter, or about $5.80 per gallon)
We drove to the roadside stand we go to, and this is what I bought:
· Garlic, 34¢
· A cantaloupe…, which cost €1 ($1.29) per kilo (2.2 lbs), and the one I bought cost €1.55
· 4 zucchini, which cost 56¢ ($.71)
· 3.28 kilos of green beans (7.2 lbs) for €11.48 ($14.81). I totally freaked out when I saw how much these cost! Isn’t that a little high? I mean, that’s like $2/lb. What? Needless to say I didn’t realize this until we were in the car, on our way back to town.
· 1.75 kilos (3.8 lbs) for €1.23, or 70¢ per kilo, or $.40 per pound.
Next we drove into Marsciano, crawling slowly through the streets because of all the people walking everywhere. Art dropped me off before driving to the parking garage located underneath the small shopping center where our local Coop, a chain grocery store, is located.
At the outdoor market I picked up more fruits and veggies…carrots, celery, and 3 bananas that I didn’t get! Meaning I paid €3.00 for celery and carrots! Just not my day!
I bought some romaine lettuce, 2 nice sized heads for €1.50. By this time Art had (amazingly!) found a parking spot and was in the market. We headed inside to the Coop. Art went back downstairs on the magnetized “moving carpet” that transports the shopping cars up and down. Every shopping cart in Italy, at least every one I’ve ever seen, require a €1 or €2 coin in them before they will be released from their locked rack.
At the Coop we bought a few things, not a lot…some wine in a five liter jug for €4.50, bottled water at 17¢ for a two liter bottle, milk, yogurt, and a few odds and ends.
Once we got back home I dumped the green beans in to the sink and began rinsing them. I then washed off all the other veggies, put the rest of the groceries away, then it was time to go to Giacomo’s for lunch.
Giacomo is going to Sicily for a few days to be with his children. The kids live in Amsterdam with their (Dutch) mother, but will be visiting Sicily and their Italian family. Belinda is still in Australia, so we’ve volunteered to water the plants and feed the kittens.
We had a wonderful lunch with Giacomo: remember, he worked as a chef on a yacht last summer, and was so successful that not only did the yacht owners invite him back, they also recommended him to a restaurant in Milan. The lunch was simple but delicious: melon wedges wrapped in prosciutto to start, then chicken breasts stuffed with bresaola (cured beef slices) and cheese. He’s also made a type of ratatouille with eggplant, zucchini, capers, tomatoes and oil that was delicious.
After lunch we sat out on the covered porch, enjoying the view, playing with the kittens, and throwing the ball for the sweet little dog, Mina, that Belinda often ‘borrows’ from her friend who lives in Rome. Mina loves to be out in the country, and even more loves being around people. In Rome she’s often alone all day while her owner works, so any time Belinda is at home for any length of time she brings Mina with her.
After a wonderful lunch and two bottles of red wine, I was ready for nap but knew I had to snap all those beans I’d bought! We drove the short distance back home, during which time I decided that a nap was definitely more important than the beans.
I went to the backyard to take down the clothes that had been hung the night before, and then I was in bed. While I snoozed Art read the Louisville paper online, probably the Washington Post as well.
I woke up from my nap but stayed in bed for another 45 minutes…time’s easy to calculate using the church bells. I just couldn’t make myself get up, and when you’re retired, you really have to tell yourself that it’s okay. Today it was more than okay…it was heaven!
Once I got up I thought that Art was outside, so I checked a few things on the computer. Eventually Art came upstairs (to wake me up) and I found out that he’d been downstairs the whole time, snapping the beans! What a guy!
I joined him in the kitchen, and while he snapped I prepared a large kettle of water for blanching and fixed us a quick dinner. Once we’d eaten (a BLT salad, made with, what else, bacon. lettuce, tomatoes and mayonnaise), I helped Art finish snapping the beans. I had to blanch the beans in about four batches, and one they were all done I put them into quart size freezer bags. Tomorrow when they’re frozen I’ll take them all out to the garage freezer.
While we were sitting at the table we put on one of the Pimsleur CD’s and listened to a lesson. This particular lesson was a repeat, and is likely to be repeated a few more times before I feel confident enough to move to the next one. By the time the CD was finished, both our brains were tired.
It was nearly nine o’clock, so we cleaned up the kitchen together and went to the living room to watch television. Naturally there wasn’t’ much on, so I started writing on the computer while Art watched the news channels and studied his Italian.
I think we went to bed around eleven…Art was afraid that my nap might have altered my sleep pattern, but I didn’t have any trouble at all falling asleep. As usual the air was cool….great for another night of snuggling, especially knowing that the heat of summer is due back by the end of the week! So that’s it….another day in paradise!
Some days we read, some days we take a walk around town, go to the post office, have a coffee at the local bar, or sit and talk with our neighbors. Some days I work in the garden, usually carrying water in buckets when it’s needed. I might pick fresh basil in the early morning then spend the rest of the morning making fresh pesto. If the guys are working in the park I might make a snack for them or maybe just walk back there to check on their progress. Every day is different, and every day is a surprise.
GREEK SALAD
I love fresh tomatoes. I love them sliced with lots of salt and pepper, I love them with basil and fresh mozzarella, all drizzled with olive oil. I love pappa al pomodoro.... tomato bread soup, and panzanella, tomato bread salad. Today I made something that we haven't had for a while, a nice Greek salad. As usual, I made changes to the recipe. In my opinion, a good Greek salad should have cucumber, and not quite so much lettuce.
If I'd had some fennel I would have used it, but since I didn't, no big deal. I did add about half a cucumber, thinly sliced. I'm not a big cucumber eater, but in a Greek salad or a tossed saled, I do like to have just a hint of it. Here's the recipe:
GREEK SALAD
1 red onion, finely sliced
1 Tbsp dried oregano
black pepper
1 Tbsp red wine vinegar
¾ cup plus 2 Tbsp EVOO
5 nice size tomatoes
1 tsp sugar
pinch of sea salt
1 large head romaine lettuce
1 bulb fennel
1 medium cucumber, thinly sliced
½ cup pitted black olives
14 oz feta cheese, crumbled
juice of half a lemon
Sprinkle the red onion with the oregano and black pepper. Pour in the vinegar and oil and toss well. Cover and let marinate for at least 2 hours.
Cut the tomatoes into bite-size pieces. Sprinkle with sugar and salt.
Tear the lettuce into big pieces and put into a large, wide, salad bowl. Slice the fennel and add to the lettuce. Add the cucumber, olives and the feta and toss to combine.
Add the tomatoes, the red onion and the lemon juice to the lettuce mixture. Toss thoroughly but gently and serve immediately. Serves 4
THANKS FOR LISTENING
Thanks to everyone who posted encouraging comments and to those who called or emailed. Yes, I am a worrier, but the things I worry about are very real. I’m not worrying about things I can’t do anything about, like world hunger or the disappearance of the Amazon rain forests. The things I worry about hit a lot closer to home, and in my opinion, are things that NEED to be worried about.
I NEED to know what my fixed costs are every month, because most of those expenses are in euro. If I need €1000 per month, for example, it will cost me $1,280 with the current exchange rate, but last March it only cost me $1,180. So yes, there’s a very real danger that my dollars won’t stretch to cover my euros. And if that continues month after month, pretty soon we’re living on credit cards again and I’ll freak out even more.
I realize that there are probably thousands of people who carry credit card debt, some probably in amounts that I can’t even imagine. For me, the idea of paying interest is just too painful….what a waste! I don’t mind scrimping and saving to get what I want, and I don’t mind waiting for what I want. Unfortunately the situation here is a bit beyond that.
At the current rate of exchange we don’t have enough money for even the basic, fixed expenses, let alone any extras. When I buy bags of mulch, potting soil and my fruit and vegetable plants in the spring, those are all “extra” expenses, not included in the budget, meaning that I would be in the hole for those expenses in ADDTION to the shortage created by the weak dollar.
When we bought the umbrella for the patio, that was definitely a big splurge. Same for the freezer, even though we hope that it will help us to save money. We’ve given up our dream of European travel, which was one of the most exciting benefits of living in Italy, at least for us. Our primary source of entertainment is entertaining friends for lunch or dinner, and we don’t even do that more than once, maybe twice, a month.
Of course Art says we’ll make it, and much as I love him, he’s an optimist. Fortunately for us he does seem to have some sort of guardian angel who looks out for him. I, on the other hand, don’t think I have a guardian angel. Maybe I did at one time…maybe the angel just gave up on me as a lost cause, but I sure never feel the reassuring presence of a guardian angel. Maybe pessimists don’t get one.
Anyway, we try to not wish too hard for Art to be 62 (so he can apply for his social security benefits) because that seems like wishing your life away. I even have days when I think “Oh what the hell, who cares if I still owe on the credit cards!”, but granted, those days don’t come very often.
If anyone is interested in hiring us to show them around our part of Umbria we’d be more than happy to accept. On occasion we’ve rented out our guest room, but that’s a fairly rare occurrence. We hope to be working with our friends Giacomo and Belinda soon on projects they have planned, but for now, things are tight…too tight for me.
I guess in the end all I really needed was to vent. I certainly can’t change the exchange rate, and my stubborn streak won’t let me leave Italy until the last possible moment. For now, that moment is still a long way off….at least as long as we have enough credit cards! Do you think I could put a little PayPal logo on the blog for people to make donations?
OVERWHELMED AND UNDERFUNDED
Okay, I’ve tried to ignore the feelings, but I’m officially freaking out. Remember Art’s project to re-seal the side of the house? Remember how it turned into a major project…and one that probably WON’T solve the dampness problems it was intended to??? Well, it’s gone from bad to worse, and combined with other factors, the whole situation is making me feel…stressed? Out of control? I don’t even know how to describe it, but it’s definitely not good.
The general consensus now seems to be that the moisture is coming from below, from the rock on which the house is built. I suspected that all along, and never could get anyone to explain how they thought redoing the wall would help with the problem. Sometimes Art’s even more impulsive than I am, and in this case, he rushed in where I would have held back.
So now the wall has been cleared of all the cement and sand in between the rocks. When Wendy came for lunch she asked if we were going to leave it like that. “Oh no!” we said, “We’re going to cover it up just like it was.” “But it looks really nice like that….you could use malta anticha on it and it would look great!”
Apparently malta anticha is cement mixed with sand, and it’s more yellow in color, less gray. We started thinking about the idea, and decided that maybe it really would be possible, and Art spoke with the two guys who’re going to do the work. They said of course they knew of this material, and yes they could do it. And yes, it would even cost less. Halleluiah!
Right now I’m on the verge of throwing in the towel and moving back to the states. The exchange rate has conspired against us since the day we moved to Italy. I was finally breathing a sigh of relief last spring when the dollar finally rallied a bit and the euro only cost $1.18.
According to my calculations, we can survive on anything less than $1.23, so I was actually ready to relax. And then, for whatever reason, the dollar began to fall yet again, and not hovers just under the $1.30 mark, a rate that puts us in the red every month. Obviously we could hold out for a few months, but for the long haul, we must have a better exchange rate or consider moving back to the states. That’s just the reality. It has nothing to do with what we want; it’s just a hard reality.
So….here I am stressing over the exchange rate, worrying about where we’ll find the money to pay the €800 ($1000+) we still owe on the roof, wondering if I’ll EVER get the credit card paid off, wondering just how much this malta anticha will cost, and today, at the front door was Sandro, our neighbor, saying that he really liked what Art had done and that he’s like to get an estimate to do the rest of the house this way!!! NO! Stop!
I said to Art, “you’ve just got to tell him that we can’t afford this!”, and Art said “well, if I could do all the removal, then they could just pay me, then maybe it wouldn’t cost us a thing!” God, optimists! They always see a silver lining….how do they do it? How can they be so oblivious to reality?
Right now Art, Sandro and Marco are standing outside discussing this project, while I’m in here trying to decide what to do first….pack? Strangle Art? Apply for more credit cards? Run outside screaming “We don’t have the F#%*ing money!!” and hope someone listens? Shit.
MY SISTER IS COMING....AGAIN!!!
We just had an email from my sister, and she's decided to take advantage of the great airfare that Art found for September....about $750 plus taxes on USAir!
She was here once before, but in dreary, rainy November, and we really wanted her to see Italy in the sunshine! Although she won't get to see the sunflowers in bloom, it should be a great time for her to be here. (Speriamo!)
We plan on a few days in Florence this time, as well as some time just hanging out here in San Venanzo! Let the planning begin!!!
THE TYPE IS LARGER!
Yes, the type IS larger! I accidentally stumbled into a way to enlarge it.....and it was right in front of me the whole time! duhhhhh...
MORE CHEESE
Today as I was walking out the front door a car was backing UP the street. It backed into the area in front of our door and the woman inside asked me a question. I didn’t hear what she said, so I moved closer.
I still couldn’t figure out what she was asking or telling me. Something about cheese…about buying cheese, but what? Did she want to know where to buy it? She pointed down the street, and I thought, “Where’s she pointing? We don’t have a cheese shop in San Venanzo.”
Just about that time Art appeared, and told me that he knew what they wanted….the couple in the car was looking for the Farnesi’s, our neighbors. The people in the car, a man and a woman, had a car filled with cheese, sausage and wine for sale! A feast on wheels, and it was right at our doorstep! And people ask why we love Italy so much!
Iris (our neighbor) walked up and began discussing the types of cheese with the man. They had a ‘medium’ pecorino…not ‘fresco’ (fresh and therefore soft) and not ‘stagionata’ (aged and hard), but a nice medium pecorino, hard enough to grate but not as hard as parmesan.
They also had a mixed pecorino using part sheep’s milk and part cow’s milk. This is the cheese Iris chose, I think because it was lower in cholesterol, but of course I can’t be sure of that.
We all had a taste of the medium pecorino and Art and I decided to buy one of the small rounds. It weighed just over 2 kilograms (over 5 pounds) and cost about €28. The taste was wonderful….mild and creamy, yet it still had the ‘bite’ of pecorino.
I was afraid that this would be too much cheese for the two of us, but the man assured me that all I had to do was wrap it in paper and store it in the refrigerator. He told me that it would last for up to two years, not that it will be around our house for anywhere near that length of time.
The bottom of the cheese had the ingredients listed, which may be standard, but since I don’t normally buy a full wheel of cheese I don’t know for sure.
The man left his card in case we wanted to order more. He also told us they have a restaurant over near Orvieto, on the road that goes along Lake Corbara. They serve pizza and other foods on the weekends, or maybe on Sunday only……
CAVES
I love caves, even man-made caves. When we saw information listed in the parks festival brochure about a free tour of caves not far from here, we decided to check it out. The caves, "Tane del Diavolo", (dens of the devil) are located just outside the small city of Parrano, about an hour's drive from San Venanzo.
The brochure listed a meeting place, but as we passed by a white road we saw the big sign for the parks festival, so we turned in. Of course we dint' find anything, and eventually the road came to a dead end where work was being done. We turned around and headed back out to the main road. On the way we saw this amazing spot, which only made me more anxious to find out more. We read that the water is this beautiful shade of blue due to the sulphur in the water.
We drove up into town and discovered a group of people waiting outside the local school. When we asked we were told that yes, they were there for the tour, and that yes, there was still room for us.
Eventually we learned that small groups were being taken to the caves, and we had to wait for the first group to return. I started to get worried when I noticed how seriously everyone was dressed. I had on my regular walking shoes, but Art had left the house in a rush and only had sandals. Everyone else had hiking boots...serious hiking boots. And then we saw people with hard hats with lights attached. Hmmm....
We were told to go down to the school to take a look at the temporary (I think) exhibit. On display were hundreds of shells and shark's teeth, as well as a map showing what parts of the area had at one time been underwater. We also saw a tusk, tooth and collarbone from a mammoth. All in all, pretty impressive for this tiny little town.
Eventually we had to sign consent forms....what a shock! Art was told that because he had sandals, he could go TO the caves, but once we got there he couldn't go inside. If only we had known what was coming......
Once it was our turn, everyone in our group drove their cars to a parking place not too far out of town. What we couldn't figure out was why we had driven UP from the city when the caves, or at least what we had seen earlier, were much further down. We would soon find out.
The group headed down a trail and walked through a field. The walk was a gradual downhill slope. Eventually we entered the woods, and the trail, although narrow, wasn't too steep or too difficult. And then everything changed.
Suddenly the trail got steeper...and steeper....and we now had to hang on to the steel cable that ran alongside the trail to keep from slipping. The rudimentary steps, when they were there, consisted of a board at the back of the step, held in place by two sticks pounded into the ground. Some of the boards had rotted away, leaving just a series of narrow terraces in the steep hillside. Additionally, every step seemed to be at least 15" high...sometimes 18", and it was quite difficult for me, a short person, to navigate. Thank god for the steel cable!
As the trail continued on, we were beginning to get nervous. How much further would we have to go, and how much worse would it get? My short legs might have presented a problem, but Art was in sandals...not exactly the best footwear for the circumstances.
Eventually.......we got to a man who was handing out the hard hats (complete with lights), so we thought we were close....but we weren't as close as we had hoped. The trail got even steeper, slipperier and narrower. We edged our way along the edge of a ravine, slowly, cautiously, nervously. And then we were at the bottom, on a series of huge boulders. The entrance to the cave was in front of us.
At the beginning of our hike the guide had told us that the river had cut out these caves, but of course I don't know more specifics. We do know that these caves were inhabited during the Bronze Age, but that covers a long period of time. Anyway, just as we had seen earlier, it was evident that these caves had been carved out by rushing water. The huge rocks were smooth and curvy, and we couldn't even see inside the cave from where we stood. This was where Art would have to wait. I forged ahead.
Although I'd worn shoes that at least covered my feet, they still weren't hiking boots, and they didn't give me much grip. Additionally I'd worn 3/4 length blue jeans, so every time I had to take a big step up OR down, my legs were bound at the knees. Entering the cave involved literally pulling yourself up a rock wall into which iron steps had been implanted. Of course the distance between each step was better suited for someone who was 6'4", and not someone who was only 5'1".
After dragging myself up the rock wall, I then had to pull myself along a narrow rock ledge that was slippery with powdery rock dust. Again, a steel cable along the side was the only reason I made it. Eventually I reached the entrance to the cave. Our individual lights were the only illumination as we got deeper into the cave.
One small room led into another, and although the idea of the cave was interesting, this particular cave wasn't particularly interesting. No cool stalactites or stalagmites...in fact, no formations at all. Just the rounded, curving rocks forming twisty, turny paths. I continued inwards, squeezed through a narrow passageway that required some contortions, and then I had to wait for the people in front of me to continue. Once they had moved I saw that the next passageway was not just narrow, it was only about four feet high.
In addition to being narrow, and having to walk like a duck, the passageway was also eight to ten feet in length. I could see the people in front of me....or rather I could see their legs from the knees down. They didn't seem to be moving forward, and I wasn't sure how many people there were, or how large the next room was. Decision time.
Based on what I'd seen so far, I didn't think that going forward was worth the effort. I'm not claustrophobic, but I still wasn't thrilled with the idea of being in some small room with a bunch of other people....especially if there wasn't anything interesting to see.
There were a few people behind me, but they were even more hesitant than I was, and when I made the decision to turn around and head out of the cave, they all followed! Slowly we edged our way back down the steep, slippery rocks, and back down to where Art was waiting. I told him that it really hadn't been worth all the effort and I apologized for getting us into this mess! And did I mention how very HOT it was that day? At least in the cave it was cool, but now that I was out of the cave the heat felt even more oppressive.
We began our climb to the top, knowing that it would take us a long, long time. This time we used the steel cable to pull ourselves back UP the hill, UP the steep steps, and UP the slippery trail. Eventually we reached the edge of the woods, hot and sweaty. Now we had to walk through the field, in full sun, up a slight incline for another fifteen minutes or so, All in all, from the car to the caves the journey took us probably forty minutes, and I’m not sure which journey was more difficult, going downhill or coming back uphill.
I know this story has gone on and on, but I really wanted to write about his so that someday, when Art and I are reading these stories, we’ll come across this one and say “Oh my god, do you remember THAT day?!?!”
PIZZA
When we’re in the states I buy lots of weird things to bring back to Italy. I bring key lime juice, pecans and (apparently illegal) seeds for flowers and herbs. I also bring back cheddar cheese (frozen the night before and packed in our checked luggage to keep it frozen) and good 100 proof Kentucky bourbon. This past May I brought back vacuum packed, fully cooked bacon so that Art and I could have BLT’s in the summer…..which are great with the Hellmann’s mayonnaise we also bring back. I also brought back some vacuum packed pepperoni….the American style pepperoni, so that I could make Art a pepperoni pizza in Italy.
In Italy, pepperoni means peppers, as in greed and red bell peppers. Strangely enough, I’ve never seen a pizza in Italy with peppers on it. I’ve seen pizzas with eggplant, with artichokes and with a fried egg, but I’ve never seen a pizza with red, green or yellow peppers on it.
I’ve made very few pizzas in my day. I like pizza, but it’s always too much trouble to make them at home, or I never think about it until dinnertime, and there’s no time for the dough to rise.
Since we’d had barbeque on Art’s birthday, I still owed him that pizza. Today was the day! I started looking at cookbooks to find a recipe for pizza dough that I liked. Of course in the end I kind of combined all the recipes into one. Same with the pizza sauce. In the end I found the perfect recipe for a quick, simple pizza sauce that’s also incredibly easy and quick:
Pizza Sauce
2 Italian plum tomatoes (about 4 oz)
2-3 basil leaves
½ tsp salt
pepper
½ Tbsp olive oil
1 heaping Tbsp triple strength tomato paste
1 clove garlic
Slice off the top and bottom off the tomatoes, but don’t peel. Cut the tomatoes into thick slices and place them in a small food processor. Add the basil leaves and process until smooth.
Into a small bowl put the tomato/basil mixture, salt, pepper, olive oil and tomato paste. (Once again, I think the use of triple strength, rather than double strength makes a BIG difference.)
Peel the garlic clove then smash it with a knife blade. Add the whole clove to the sauce and stir well. Let the sauce sit at room temperature while you’re making the pizza dough.
Remove the garlic clove before spreading on the pizza.
This recipe makes enough to cover one 14” pizza in the Italian style. American style pizzas have a thicker tomato sauce. This sauce should work on a 12” pizza just as well.
The pepperoni I’d brought back came in four separate packets, and one was enough to cover my pizza….except for the small area I kept plain so that I could really taste the sauce.
I turned the oven up as high as it would go….about 450º, but higher would really be better.
I decided to put a little olive oil in my pizza dough, and just a pinch of sugar. I rolled it out to fit my 14” pizza pan, which made for a pretty thin crust. I brushed the crust with olive oil before I put the sauce on. I’d read that it would prevent the crust from getting soggy.
I used FRESH mozzarella cheese, then added the pepperoni. I baked it for about 15 minutes, maybe a little more, until the crust was starting to brown up. WOW! I’m so glad that I froze the other half of the dough, because now when I decide I want a pepperoni pizza all I have to do is thaw the dough! I didn’t think about taking a picture because we just gobbled it up! The crust was perfect….think, crisp and not at all soggy! Success!
HAPPY UNVERSARY
Today is my UNversary…that is, the date that’s NOT my anniversary. Had I stayed married, today would have marked thirty seven years of marriage. THIRTY SEVEN YEARS!!!! How could it be possible that I could have done ANYTHING for thirty seven years….I’m waaaaaaay too young!
Anyway, the point is that I always stop on this date and think how glad I am that I was finally able to get up the courage to end my marriage. Well, maybe courage isn’t exactly the right word, because I didn’t go about things in a way that I’m proud of, but the end result was that I was able to finally feel confident enough to make it on my own.
When you’ve been married since you were seventeen, when you’ve gone from your parent's house to a house with your husband, when you’ve never held a fulltime job, when all you have is a GED and no skills, when you have two small children to think about…..well, for me divorce was never much of an option. Where would I go? How could I support myself and my kids? Where would I work?
I don’t think my first husband was or is a bad person. He just wasn’t the right person for me. I was never able to get him to see just how wrong we were for each other. He didn’t change much over the course of our marriage, but I did, and for that he never forgave me. When I told him I wanted a divorce, he tried to talk me out of it by saying that in a few years the kids would be gone and then it would be just the two of us. How could I tell him THAT’S what made me realize I wanted a divorce in the first place?
I guess this will come off sounding tacky, or bitchy at best, hypocritical and mean-spirited at worst, but it’s the truth. And on top of that, I have to say that the two years I spent as a single woman were absolutely fabulous!
Yes, I worked two jobs, went to college part-time, had two kids in high school and no social life, but I was my own boss! I could come and go as I pleased, although with my schedule that was more of a theoretical advantage than a real one.
At thirty four year of age, for the first time in my life I was independent! I guess I really had missed out on what most people do in their late teens and early twenties. And no, I don’t mean lots of sex, lots of drinking and lots of late nights. I never did any of those things, but it was just the IDEA that I could do whatever I wanted that just absolutely made me high!
Eventually, after two years of being single, and after sort of resigning myself to the fact that I would always be single, I met Art. After two years of constant work, constant school and no social life, let alone a love life, I met Art.
To say that I fell head over heels in lust is putting it mildly. Not having sex for two years was no big deal…I’m into quality, not quantity, but it was more than just sex. It was also the camaraderie, the friendship, the feeling of knowing that someone was waiting (anxiously!) for you to get home from work…it was that and so much more that I’d missed without even realizing it.
I don’t regret my first marriage because to me that would be akin to saying that I regret having my kids, and I don’t regret them at all. I do regret the years that I wasted, the years that I spent too scared and too ignorant to prepare myself for a new life.
One of my favorite sayings is “The Lord helps him who helps himself”, and that’s what life’s all about. I’m glad that I was able to seize the moment, make my way into the world and find what I was looking for….a sense of self and independence, and once I had that I was able accept what came my way.
And so that’s why on August 2nd of every year I always think about what might have been if I’d never gotten divorced. No Art. No fun. No sixteen countries under my belt. I'd never have seen Hawaii, or San Francisco, or Turkey. I certainly wouldn't be living in Italy. Even more so than my wedding anniversary with Art, today is the day when I remember what could have been….and how much I would have missed. Labels: anniversay, independence
LA SCARZUOLA
Before Belinda left for Australia and Giacomo for Sicily, they asked us is we’d like to attend a concert at La Scarzuola. Although Belinda had previously mentioned this place in passing because it’s where they were married, I didn’t know anything about it. After living here for three years and visiting here for the two before that, I’d never read or heard anything about this place!
……….Then the Canadians arrived. Virgil and Jean, along with Rachel and girls went to La Scarzuola one day for the tour. They talked so enthusiastically about it that I decided I’d better find out more. As luck would have it, one day while driving to Montebaggione to check out a restaurant that Belinda had raved about, we passed the sign for La Scarzuola. At least now I knew where it was….after leaving San Venanzo, heading towards Orvieto, we had to turn onto the road for Pornello/Montegiove. La Scarzuola is about 20 kilometers from San Venanzo, just before Montegiove.
The concert we were going to see featured a chamber orchestra from Pittsburgh, and a tenor and soprano. We asked Virgil and Jean if they’d like to go with us, and they said yes. Tickets were a modest €5, and the concert started very early for an Italian event….at 6:00 p.m. I guess this was due to the fact that the venue, an outdoor amphitheater, had no lights.
Just as luck would have it, the afternoon of the concert was cloudy. We heard thunder off in the distance, and this usually means that someone else is getting the rain we need. The pessimist in me was worried.
We knew we’d have to return to La Scarzuola to take the full tour, but what we saw that night was enough to let us know that it would be worthwhile. What a strange and magical place! Just sitting in the amphitheater was a treat, and trying to figure out what everything represented was a mystery.
We were glad we’d arrived early, as the amphitheater filled up fast. Once the orchestra arrived, they began tuning up….but only after they’d rearranged the chairs. Someone had set up the chairs so that the musicians were facing away from the audience. What were they thinking???
Naturally the concert didn’t start on time. As we watched the dark clouds roll in we kept thinking “come on, come on, get started before it rains!” I guess it was about 6:40 be fore the program began, and then we still had to listen to the mayor and the person in charge of arranging the concert say a ‘few’ words.
The concert was arranged in two parts, separated by an intermission. The first half consisted of an original work by the orchestra director, then a piece featuring a guitar by a composer neither of us had heard of (Juaquin Rodrigo). The tenor sang to the first piece, and I have to say that I didn’t like his voice AT ALL…in my opinion it was thin, weak and unpleasant. We decided that listening to him was like listening to a radio show from the 1930’s.
Additionally, none of us really cared for this piece of music, written by the director. It was dark, moody and strange. The words were weird and it just didn’t work for me at all.
The second piece, featuring a guitarist, was just okay. Maybe it was because I was waiting for the second half of the concert; maybe because I wasn’t familiar with the music, whatever the reason, this piece didn’t hold my attention at all either. And then it started to sprinkle!
As the second piece was nearing its end, musicians began covering their instruments. The kettle drums were covered, and one musician nodded to the director as he got up to seek shelter. Damn! I was afraid this would happen! We had even (optimistically) left our umbrellas in the car.
An intermission had been scheduled for this time, but the rain got harder, the thunder continued, and we wondered if the musicians would return after the break. Eventually we made the decision to leave. We all decided that the chances of rain were just too great, and that the musicians wouldn’t take a chance with their valuable instruments.
We walked back down to the entrance were a van transported us back to our car. Once we left the area we didn’t see any more rain, and in San Venanzo we didn’t even have enough rain to wet the streets. I have no idea what happened at La Scarzuola, but we know we’ll be going back.
***************************
While visiting Ceil, the director of the dig just outside of San Venanzo, we spotted a bunch of brochures in the museum office. It’s so difficult to find out what’s going on in the area. Had it not been for Belinda and Giacomo we never would have known about the concert, yet the place was packed….how did all those people find out about the concert?
One of the brochures I found was about park festivals. We discovered that we’d missed several free events in our area, but that several more were scheduled for the coming weekend, including a free tour of La Scarzuola!
Since I’ve been writing so much about his place, and since I mentioned that I’d never even heard of this place, I did a search on the internet. La Scarzuola doesn’t have it’s own website, and most information is mentioned in passing on tourist info sites, or on agriturismo sites that include local sites. I was able to find out this from scouring several sites…..
La Scarzuola is a beautiful Franciscan monastery, established by St. Francis in 1218, tucked away in the green woods of Montegiove. In the church you will find one of the first fresco portraits of Saint Francis of Assisi, painted by an artist who had met Francis in person.
In 1956 famous Architect Tommaso Buzzi started restoration of the monastery, building along its walls the ideal city, an architectural symbolic and scenographic complex. From the sacred city you walk through gardens and water streams to the secular city.
The garden is a theater full of archetypical reminiscences, terminated by an Acropolis. A sequence of stages and visions are meant to evocate the quest for spiritual harmony.
On Saturday afternoon we arrived at La Scarzuola. Once again we had dark skies, rumbling thunder and spitting rain. We grabbed our umbrellas as we got out of the car.
A few others were already waiting for the door to open, and we discovered that instead of being free, as our brochure said, the cost was €5, as listed in the “new” brochure. We decided to go in anyway….it would be nice to look around, and the money would be helping to support the place.
Quite a large group eventually gathered in the large open area in front of the church. Eventually a man came to lead the tour. He was quite charming and entertaining, even though we didn’t understand much of what he said (in Italian).
The tour lasted a good two hours, during which time we had rain on and off. Luckily there was enough room for everyone to spread out, and since I couldn’t understand the story anyway, I wandered a bit. We’ll definitely have to return for the English language tour.
For those who might wish to visit La Scarzuola, you need to call in advance for reservations. I think there's a numimum of eight people, but I'm betting that if a smaller group called, they still might do the tour. The cost is €10 per person. The phone number is 076 383 7463. English is spoken.
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Spina Bifida
