Magic Italy!

Ciao Bloggisti!

I’ve been noticeably (or not!) absent from the blogosphere for a number of reasons. Mostly because I haven’t been inspired to write, which is strange considering all that’s been going on in Italy  (elections, Papi, etc.). Maybe the Milanese mosquitoes have sucked the lifeblood out of me. Or perhaps I was just plain disgusted at the non-stop media circus surrounding all things Berlusconi. But strangely enough, thanks to Papi Silvio, I have found my mojo again. And its name is Magic Italy!

Behold the majestic logo, the flourish of the Tricolore, the shining star peeking demurely from behind the “c”, the sand dunes in the background. Yes, I know what you must all be thinking. How can so much awesomeness be possible? Why, it’s all the handiwork of Berlusconi and Red Sonja, the new Minister for Tourism. She proudly announced on the news that the Prime Minster had been personally working on Italy’s new tourism logo “for days”. Days! Now that’s dedication. And all that hard work has paid off. This will be the symbol of Italy’s rise from the ashes, the siren which will beckon the world to our mighty shores, the macaroni to our cheese!!

Ah, who am I kidding! It looks like the intro to an infomercial or as my husband said, the opening credits to a bad porno (and I have NO idea why he would know!). THIS is going to relaunch Italy’s flagging tourism industry? Um, my two year-old could have probably drawn a better logo in minutes, with his feet. Seriously.

So now it’s time for a little contest. Can you do better? Can you make up a logo for Italy’s Ministry of Tourism? Ask your children to take part as well. Come on people! Get your crayons and finger paints out!! And don’t worry if it takes “days”. Italy needs you!!!!

Tuscany or: how I learned to stop worrying and love nature

Ciao Bloggisti!

Just got back from a girls’ weekend in Dublin and will eventually post about that but for now I have a story about my Easter holiday in April…

Picture it: Tuscany – April 2009. I’m alone, sitting on the edge of the sofa bed in the agriturismo , nervously looking at the bucolic countryside from behind the comfort of the screen door. My family are somewhere frolicking outside and I’m trying to muster up the courage to go out and join them. Like Woody Allen, I’m not a big fan of the great outdoors. I grew up in Scarberia, for crying out loud! The closest I ever got to nature was cleaning the litter box. But that was a long time ago. I’m a grown woman now. I’ve backpacked around Europe and India, been through the joys of labour and childbirth, moved halfway across the globe and, most importantly, got through all the convoluted paperwork to get my Italian citizenship without losing my mind. No small feat. So, I can open the door and take on the rolling hills of Tuscany. I CAN DO THIS! SE PO’ FA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I slowly open the screen door and what do I see? A purty little kitty cat.

Phew! It’s nice to see a familiar face. Me and cats, we’ve got a connection, see. I grew up with them and have two of my own now. But this kitty looks a bit on edge. It’s in pounce position, tail nervously flicking from side to side. All of a sudden I see a flash of fur shooting past. I lose sight of the cat for a second but then I notice it’s magically back in its original position. Something on the other side catches my eye. It’s a grey worm, twisting and writhing on the pavement. Strange. It didn’t rain last night. Why would there be worms around? Strange. I’ve never seen a grey worm before. Wait a minute! As the penny drops I look over at the cat and notice it’s chewing on something crunchy. OH MY GOD! A bony mouse  foot is sticking out of kitty’s mouth. That’s it! I’m outta here!!!!!! Cut to me sitting on the sofa bed once again, looking outside the screen door, calculating how many more hours I would have to endure before escaping to the comfort of big city smog.

Well, I may be exaggerating just a tad. Nature is actually growing on me in my old age. But that cat story is all true! I did manage to get over my initial hesitancy and ended up having a wonderful time in Tuscany, in the Maremma countryside to be precise. We stayed in a comfortable apartment inside an old but recently refurbished stone villa, surrounded by hills, olive groves and vineyards. It was heaven.

This agriturismo wasn’t an all-inclusive, luxury inn. But to me, it was a taste of the real Tuscany. It’s a little gem of a place,  close to Etruscan archaeological sites, medieval villages, hiking paths, Maremma’s famous horse ranches and seaside towns. It was also perfect for the kids. There was lots of space for them to run freely outside and they had a great time playing with the animals, especially the chickens and the aforementioned killer cats. The children thoroughly enjoyed themselves, so much so that my daughter wants to live in Tuscany now. That won’t be happening any time soon but we will definitely go back to the Maremma, grey worms and all.

Desperation Poutine

Ciao Bloggisti!

Well, here we are, week after my rant about Italy and I’m still peeved! This time for a problem at my daughter’s preschool. It’s a long and complicated story, too boring to explain in detail but basically they decided to close the school for three days because water was leaking from the roof. And even if my daughter’s class isn’t even in the same building as the school with the water leak, they magically found a bit of condensation in their classroom (it’s been raining non-stop here for four days straight) and the mayor declared their classroom as unsafe as well. How nice! Especially since there’s a long weekend coming up. That way the teachers can add three more days to their vacation!! The funny thing is, my son’s daycare is in the same building as my daughter’s class and they’re still open. Hmmm….

Ok, enough of my complaining! Let’s talk about something infinitely more interesting. FOOD! Since I’ve been feeling homesick of late, one evening I decided to make one of my favourite Canadian comfort foods: poutine. Quoi?? You don’t know the celestial concoction of  french fries, gravy and cheese curds? It was one of my go-to meals when I was a university student in Montreal as it was cheap, filling and the perfect cure for a hangover. There’s even a so-called Italian Poutine, made of fries, shredded mozzarella and bolognese sauce that you’d never actually find  in Bologna but which I didn’t disdain either.

However, the other evening I wanted the real thing. I happened to have some leftover homemade chicken gravy and decided it was the perfect time to take a walk down Canadian culinary lane. I wanted to do things right so I fried my fries instead of baking them in the oven like I usually do. The only problem was that I didn’t have cheese curds. Hmmm, what would be a good substitute for curds? Why Asiago, of course! So I carefully assembled my Desperation Poutine: first the french fry base, then the Asiago and finally the piping hot gravy. I closed my eyes and took a bite.

My first thought was, “Meh”. After all that work, all the expectations, my poutine was a bit of a disappointment.  As you can see, the Asiago didn’t melt, which is what happens to curds upon contact with the hot gravy. Perhaps the cheese I used was too aged or too cold. But that stringy, cheesy goodness which is essential to the whole poutine experience was missing from my invention. But I haven’t given up hope. Now I have to try and find cheese curds here in Italy or book a flight back home asap!

Help a Canuck girl in need! What Italian cheese would be the best substitute for curds?

“Your country is a joke.”

Ciao Bloggisti

I was planning on writing about food in this post, because I’ve eaten some great things of late, but a couple of things happened today that made me change my mind.

The first thing was an email I got from my brother. All it said was “Your country is a joke” and this link.  I thought something horrible had happened in Canada, that they made Ben Mulroney Prime Minister. But after clicking on the link I found it was yet another article about Berlusconi. Now, those of you who read my blog know how I feel about the man. But for the last month or so, he’s been grabbing the headlines on a virtually daily basis, almost always after putting his high-heeled foot in his big mouth. From the photo session with the Queen to his “camping holiday” remark in Abruzzo, il Berlusca never fails to disappoint with his “jokes”. And he’s got a captive audience who apparently love his special brand of humour because he won overwhelmingly in last year’s election, promising good times for all.

And someone sure had a good time with our garden this afternoon because when we got home from work, we found that some jokester had tried to pull out the jasmine that had just been planted. He/She/It ripped away the vines that were growing around our fence. And this animal did it in broad daylight, not giving a rat’s hoo haa if they were going to get caught destroying private property, because even if they did get caught, they probably weren’t going to be punished. It left me feeling nauseous. But I guess I shouldn’t let it get to me because in Italy, anything goes! It’s all fun and games! Right? This is the “Terra dei Cachi”, isn’t it?

What do you think? Is Italy becoming a joke? Are there any redeeming qualities left? Or should I just pack up and go back to Canada, even if Ben Mulroney is Prime Minister?

Easter 1999 – Easter 2009

10 years ago. Seems more like 10 days ago. We were visiting one of our closest friends for Easter in L’Aquila. He grew up in Milan but moved to Abruzzo with his parents so he could help them build their dream house in their hometown, Poggio di Roio. It wasn’t easy for him to leave his friends and everything he knew but he made the best of it, found a job at the university and slowly carved out a new life for himself.

We couldn’t wait to visit him and see the house. It still wasn’t ready by the time we went down but he was proud to show us the work in progress, where the bedrooms would be, the wonderful view from the hill. His parents were hoping that our friend would eventually live there with his wife and kids. Like all Italian parents, they wanted to make sure their little boy was “sistemato”.

We stayed in L’Aquila, in a house which was usually rented out by students. I remember it being particularly cold that Easter, especially at night. But we loved walking around town despite the chill. We would stroll around the Piazza Duomo, visited the 99 Cannelle fountain, gazed upon the imposing Spanish Fortress. The architecture of the town ranged from Medieval, Renaissance to Baroque. It was a true jewel.

Ten years and 2o seconds later. Many of those Medieval, Renaissance and Baroque buildings are forever damaged or collapsed. The town we admired will probably never be the same again.

Our friend and his elderly parents were alseep in their brand new house when the earth began to tremble. They escaped in time and spent the night in their car. The next day they awoke to discover the dream house they spent over 15 years to build was full of cracks and collapsed walls, still creaking and shaking due to the aftershocks. The university campus where our friend worked is now a mass of rubble. Yet he’s as cool as a cucumber. Like most Abruzzesi, his strength of character comes through in times of adversity. He’s rolling up his sleeves, already thinking about how to rebuild the house, getting on with the day-to-day things.

Easter is a time of re-birth, a time of miracles. This year’s celebrations will be different. All Italians are profoundly shaken and saddened by this tragedy. But we know how lucky we are that our friend survived. He’s our Easter miracle.

“Baciamo le mani, Loris!”

If you’d like to help the Abruzzo Earthquake victims, please check out the useful links at the end of this WhyGo Italy article. Thanks.

Here come the sons!

Ciao Bloggisti!

Big news everyone!! As you know, I’m a Beatlemaniac so when I read this article (courtesy of Abbey Rodent), I was so happy I started doing the Pharrell McDonald’s dance in the office:

While a Beatles reunion concert is sadly out of the question, Beatle fans may just get the next best thing: Julian & Sean Lennon, James McCartney, Dhani Harrison, and Zak & Jason Starkey are getting together for a series of concerts this summer.

Calling their outing the ‘Here Comes The Sons’ Tour, the surprising Beatles siblings “reunion” came about when Julian Lennon visited Friar Park, the home of the late George Harrison, at the request of Dhani Harrison and his mother Olivia, Harrison’s widow. Olivia had come across some George Harrison demos which George had intended to send to John Lennon in the months prior to Lennon’s tragic death. Harrison had recorded the demos trying to emulate Lennon’s voice, and decided that the songs were better suited for John. After Lennon’s passing, Harrison shelved the tapes, which were later discovered by Olivia.

Listening to the songs, Olivia also felt the songs needed a Lennon vocal and invited Julian Lennon to Friar Park to hear the demos. Julian listened and liked the songs, but thought that there were some parts that needed a higher, younger vocal register than he could muster. He rang up his half-brother Sean, and emailed an mp3 of a couple of the demos to the youngest Lennon. Both Lennon’s were excited about the songs and arranged to record them at Friar Park with Dhani and Sean doing the guitar parts.

Playbacks of the songs revealed to the young Harrison and Lennon Brothers that some distinctive bass and drum parts were needed. On a hunch, they rang Sir Paul McCartney to see if he might have interest in the project. Sir Paul politely refused, but suggested that perhaps his son, James, might be the man they needed to play bass. James McCartney arrived at the sessions with Zak & Jason Starkey, the sons of Beatles drummer Ringo Starr, who happened to be visiting the McCartney’s in London. The six Beatles siblings then went to work on the Harrison demos, and the finished results so pleased them, they decided that not only would they release the songs, they would also record additional original material for an album release, to be followed by a brief tour of the United States.

At a press conference held at Abbey Road Studios, the Beatles siblings made an official announcement of the tour and album release. “We’re all very excited by the songs”, Dhani Harrison beamed, “Dad really wanted John Lennon to record these songs, and in a way, I feel that we’re honoring his wishes”. “I’m very humbled that Olivia and Dhani asked me to listen to George’s demos”, chimed in Julian Lennon, “and I’m very happy that Sean is onboard this project too. We’ve been talking for years about doing something together, and these songs felt just right for us. And to have Dhani, James, Zak & Jason involved makes this a very special project as well”.

“Our Dads at first were a little leery about us doing this”, said James McCartney , referring to McCartney and Starr, “but after they heard what we put together, they gave us their blessings”.

“It’s funny in a way”, added Zak Starkey, “I’ve played with my Dad, The Who and Oasis, but playing with these guys, who are more or less as much brothers to me as Jason is, I’m really excited at the prospect of going on the road with them”. When asked who came up with the idea of calling the tour ‘Here Comes The Sons 2006′, Dhani Harrison raised his hand. “Guilty!’, he laughed, joined by the other five. “After all, I made the phone call!”, which elicited another round of laughter from the group. The tour kicks off at Irving Plaza in New York City on April 1st. More dates to be announced. Stella McCartney will be designing the stage wear for the group.

I hope the tour makes its way to Italy. That would be a dream come true.

 

Would you go to the Beatle offspring concert? Or do you prefer Offspring? Discuss!

Big Mac, Filet-O-Fish, Quarter Pounder, French Fries, Icy Coke, Milkshakes, Sundaes and Apple Pie!

Ciao Bloggisti!

I was about to go to bed but decided to go on Dlisted for one last dose of dirty gossip. BIG MISTAKE! Now I’m going to have nightmares of Pharrell Williams dancing inside a Paris McDonald’s, begging for apple pie at six in the morning. And no, I’m not on drugs. But thanks for asking!

If you don’t believe me, have a look for yourself:

Now, I love Pharrell but that song & dance number was a superfail. And unimpressive. I mean, this is a man who’s worked with Madonna and all he got was “just breakfast”.

Poor guy! Who can blame a traveller for craving a taste of home while in a foreign country. Us expats can relate to Pharrell’s predicament. I once cheated on my beloved Tim  Horton and ate a stale Burger King donut in Milan because I was just that desperate.

I’d love to hear the bizarre cravings you’ve had on holiday or while abroad.  Have you ever sung for your supper?

Oh, and if you’re interested in “just breakfast” take a look at my friend Pickle Pea’s blog. I want that toast now!

 

One more thing before I forget, I just wanted to announce the winner of the giveaway. It’s NYC/Caribbean Ragazza! Congrats and I hope you enjoy the book!!