Month: November 2014

Fall in Italy

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I’ve been feeling nostalgic lately.  Not exactly homesick.  Mostly nostalgic.  It happens generally when I look at Facebook these days and see all the fall fun.  You know what I’m talking about.  Apple picking.  Hay rides.  Halloween costumes.  Corn mazes.  Gorgeous fall foliage.

Over here?  Not so much.  The weather has turned a little cooler (and rainier).  Many plants are still green and even flowering.  The ones losing their leaves seem to have them turn brown and fall off immediately.  I saw a few Halloween decorations in windows, but not much.  We were in a restaurant that was putting up decorations the day before.  At that point, I thought, why bother?

But I’m seeing that fall in Italy means other things.  It is time for jackets, boots, and scarves.  (Although in Rome, they have honestly moved on to puffer coats already.  Temps are usually in the 60s.)

It is time for vendors roasting chestnuts by the side of the road.

And it is time for fall flavors.  I don’t mean pumpkin spice lattes.  Seasonal favorites like cinghiale (wild boar), truffles, and porcini mushrooms.  We got to experience all of these on our trip to Tuscany.  All in one meal even.

We arrived at our B&B outside Volterra in the late afternoon.  The owners asked if we would be eating at their restaurant in town that night.  We had looked at it in the guidebook, Enoteca Del Duca, but written it off because it was described as a good place for a nice and romantic meal.  And it didn’t open until 7:30.

But, in full view of our toddler and six-month-old, they were asking if we’d be dining there.  I almost followed up and asked, “are you sure it’s ok for kids?”

Since people were rested and restless from the three-hour car ride and we were getting a later start into town, we decided to go for it.  After walking around Volterra in the dark for a bit, we made it to restaurant opening time.  Conveniently, we had the restaurant to ourselves for about 45 minutes.

What followed was one of those magical meals where everyone was chill and enjoyed it.  The kids were not screaming or fighting to get out of chairs.  The adults were not gulping food or exasperated.  We were aided by the bread basket and more liberal use of pacifier than is usually permitted.  (For Henry, they are just for sleeping.  Mac still has full access.)

Mac's first time in an Italian high chair

Mac’s first time in an Italian high chair

In fact, we enjoyed everything so much that I forgot to take pictures.  But it was all very delicious.  We had a bottle of the owners Marcampo wine, made from 50% Sangiovese and 50% Merlot, which was not quite as full-bodied as we hoped, but had a great mouth feel and paired well with the food.  Oh, the food!  We started with wild board proscuitto with cheese fondue and a souffle with shaved truffles.  I really like boar, but I find it hard to describe.  I wouldn’t call it gamey.  Just like a more robust, extra delicious pig.  Henry hasn’t met a cured meat he doesn’t like, and he polished off the truffled souffle like it was dusted with M&Ms.  A cheap date he is not.

Henry was less interested in the main course, but no complaints from James and me.  I had the pasta with porcini mushrooms.  It was very delicious, with excellent noodles and a light sauce, but I didn’t lose my head over the porcini.  They just tasted like nice-tasting mushrooms to me.  I’m not sure I could have identified them in a mushroom taste test.

James’s, however, was one for the record books.  He got the pappardelle with wild boar.  He allowed me three bites, and I cannot fault him for not offering more.  First, picture the most delicious noodles you can.  Kind of like your mom’s amazing egg noodles, but uniform and somehow staying hot.  And then morsels of stewed boar incorporated throughout.  Boar that is tender, but has bites with a hint of crispy burnt end kind of deliciousness.  I had a pretty decent boar pappardelle later in the trip, but this dish will be the one against all others are measured.

At that point, the natives were restless, so we skipped dessert and coffee.  Didn’t want to push our luck.  We had other pleasant dining experiences and tasty food on our trip, but nothing where everything came together like that first night.

Tuscany bound!

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Sorry for the light posting this week.  As we speak, we are packing up for our first overnight trip.  Back next week with stories of the kids terrorizing Tuscan hill towns!

NBD, this is where we are staying.  Try not to be super jelly.

I need to step it up

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Helpme host you.ANYTIPS

I need to step up.  Not in an angsty dancy way.  I’m talking about my hosting game.  I need to kick it up a notch.  (BAM.)

Last weekend we received an invitation for an impromptu get-together.  Sure, I like people.  Less cooking.  Wins all around.  We had a fantastic time.  I couldn’t help but be impressed by their effortless hosting.  Would you like some fresh-squeezed juice in your prosecco?  How about some freshly-baked cookies?  Care to sample one of these delicious cheeses?  (This is not blogging hyperbole.  All of that happened.)  It was pretty awesome.

Other friends here are equally generous.  One of my friends makes kick ass frappuccinos every time I come over.  And offers us homemade baked goods.  Another friend opens 15 euro bottles of wine when we come over.  “Are you sure you want to waste the good wine on us?” I always think.  We did a potluck lunch at a friend’s.  I had a sorry-looking apple, cheese, and meat tray.  Others brought scrumptious quiches with made-from-scratch crusts and fresh-from-the-oven bread.  Why can’t I get my act together?

I actually adore hosting.  The proximity of people here lends itself to more casual popping-by opportunities.  But if you stopped by now, I could offer you one of the three bottles of wine in the house (not always the case), stale cookies, or a cut-up apple.  The hands-down best food I make is popcorn, but this is not great for dates with small kids.  I do have Halloween candy in the house, but that is not usually the case.  I may have a secret bag of potato chips still.  But I have no delicious cheeses.  I didn’t even bring the juicer with us.

So what is holding me back from being the hostess with the mostest?  Part of it is the difficulty of acquiring enough food just to feed the fam.  We make a few trips a week to the grocery store or market for food.  I can only bring home as much as I can carry and cram under the stroller.  I did make a solo trip to the store on a recent evening after James got home.  It was a delightfully calm experience.  I may have to do more of this.

Another issue is my proclivity to eat any treats that are lying around.  I can usually be trusted for a day.  Maybe a few days.  But then something happens and I EAT EVERYTHING.  This is a big reason I don’t bake.  Besides my dislike for measuring ingredients (a crucial piece of baking, James keeps reminding me), I don’t need to polish off a tray of cookies in one sitting.  I will engage in twisted logic like, well, I should eat all of them now so they won’t be around tempting me later.  Better to get them out of the way.  I know.  I’m not proud to tell you that there is hidden chocolate in our house right now.  It’s not hiding from the kids.  James hid it from me.  In his defense I asked him to.  When we got the nice chocolate, I didn’t want to gobble it all up in a day.  Having him put it out of my reach seemed like a good solution.  It is working.  So far.  (WHY CAN’T I FIND IT??  Our place is NOT that big!!)

Also, I don’t like extra stuff around.  It just gets in the way, and you have to clean it and take care of it.  BUT hosting requires a certain amount of stuff.  Enough glassware for the group.  Serving dishes.  Things like that.  I did have some of this stuff back home.  Probably not enough, but I had some.  Some of it is not here by design, like the china and crystal.  Some of it I thought was coming, but it apparently did not.  My favorite trays apparently were sent to storage instead of coming here.  (I hope storage anyway.)  Either way, I’m a little understaffed now.

And.  But.  And.  I hate to admit this.  I really hate that I feel this way.  But there is that teeny tiny part of me that sometimes–just sometimes–wants to hoard the good stuff.  This is usually not an issue.  I promise.  I really do want to share.  But if I have the super special chocolate, my first thought is probably to tuck it away instead of offering it up.  This is the reason I have decorative stickers from my childhood that were never used and unopened shower gel that was thrown away after a decade or so.  Which is dumb.  No way to live really.  My takeaway from those unused special things is to carpe diem.  Seize and share the good chocolate!  Bring out the good wine!  I swear.  But old habits die hard, and just every now and then I don’t want to share.  You guys never feel like this?  Ok, never mind, I’m a terrible person, carry on.

I’m hoping to have many happy get-togethers with many people over the next three years.  Here is my three-point attack plan.

  1. Assess the serving ware situation and buy more of anything that is needed.  When we came here with less, we planned on having a settling up account if you will.  We figured we could always buy something if we decided we needed it.  I need to decide I need these things.
  2. Stock a special shelf or drawer or something with snacks for guests.  I can’t stockpile nice cheeses, but I can tuck away some good chips, crackers, or sweets.  “But you say you can’t be trusted,” you protest.  I know, I know.  I will just have to try.  I want to be a good hostess more than I want to snack.  Most of the time.
  3. Develop some signature dishes–other than popcorn–that I can put together.  They may not be baked, although I do want to do more baking with Henry.  They may not be fancy.  I don’t know what they are, but this is a goal.

Some people put together amazing Pinterest-worthy parties.  Katie Bower recently put together a gorgeous Seuss-themed vacation planning party.  I very sincerely say good for her.  If I get invited to any parties like that, I’ll just focus on enjoying it.  That’s not the level I’m going for here though.  I just want my guests to enjoy themselves.

Internets, can you offer me any guidance?  Any hosting tips?  Any idiot-proof dishes I can make with two kids underfoot?  Please, internets, help me!

 

That time we *almost* went to mass at St. Peter’s and *almost* saw the Pope

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We did it!  We publicly transited!  I actually have two tram trips under my belt now, but this is a post about our first.  (No bus or metro yet.)  After we purchased our tickets, I went with a “go big or go home” approach and suggested to James that we go to church.  At St. Peter’s.  After consulting the tram schedule, this was not as crazy as it originally sounded.  We could pick up a tram  a few blocks from our house that would take us right there.  After much less cajoling than expected, James was convinced.

Now, I know what you’re thinking.  Hey, lady with the two small kids – you know St. Peter’s is pretty crowded, right?  ESPECIALLY on a Sunday.  And that is fair.  Being a Sunday morning did actually help us on the public transit front though.  Fewer cars on the road meant our travel time was faster.  It definitely cut against us because I forgot it was the last Sunday of the month, which means museums are free and therefore crowded.  We decided to go for it, taking the attitude that it’s not that far away.  If we want to see more, we’ll go back.

T – 60 minutes to mass

After consulting mass times, we decided to aim for the 10:30 am.  The tram rolled up after waiting just a few minutes.  The tram wasn’t packed, but people were leaping out of their seats to make room for the kiddos.  (This happened again the next day.)  This was nice and comforting for when I venture out with the kids on my own.  In DC I could usually get a seat, but not always, and people weren’t falling over themselves to make room.

Henry loved everything.  He loved looking out the window.  He loved holding onto the bar.  It was a hit.  (Mac slept through most of the ride.)

11.4_Vatican 1

Once we got there, we remembered about the free-museums-last-Sunday, but we weren’t trying to go into the museum–just St. Peter’s.  So we set off for the Square.  How bad could it be?

T – 30 minutes to mass

11.4_Vatican 7

It was pretty packed.  The line snaked all the way around the square.  I decided to wait in it for a bit.  It was a gorgeous day.

While Mac and I waited in line, Henry treated St. Peter’s Square like his own personal playground.  I love that.  Even though he won’t remember this, I’m looking forward to telling him, “Hey kid, we used to live in Rome, and you ran around the Vatican like it was your own personal playground.”

11.4_Vatican 6

James got to chase Henry around.  He said Henry got a lot of “aww” looks and some “who does this child belong to” looks.  At one point I saw a woman go up to Henry, but I figured James is right there, everything must be fine.  Apparently, she came up and said Henry was so beautiful she wanted to kiss him.  And then actually kissed him.

11.4_Vatican 8

T + 10 minutes to mass

The line took about 35 minutes.  We went through metal detectors.  We made it!

11.4_Vatican 3

Inside, it was very packed.  We were about ten minutes late to mass, but that’s practically on time around here.  A few minutes after we arrived, however, they started announcing communion instructions.  “Either that is the fasted mass ever or we messed up the times,” I told James.  It seems we messed up the times.  We were roped off from the legit worshipers who were more in the know on mass schedules, but we decided to look around where we could.

11.4_Vatican 5 11.4_Vatican 4

T + 30 minutes to mass

So we left sans mass.  We found a bathroom, but no changing tables.  (#stpeterssquare #placesmysonsjunkhasbeen)

T + 55 minutes to mass

At this point, we could probably leave and get home in time for lunch and actual naps without any serious meltdowns.  But James realized the Pope would be addressing the crowd at noon.  That meant if we could make it another half hour, we could be a part of that crowd.  They were no longer letting people into the church, and we realized that the exit point was a pretty great spot to see, should we want to wait.  The weather was on our side.  Should we go for it?

11.4_Vatican 2

I looked at the gathering crowd.  Hundreds.  Thousands.  I’m bad at estimating, but it was a lot of people.  After dithering for a few more minutes, I decided that waiting half an hour could be tolerable, but exiting when everyone else was would not be.  So we bailed.

Instead of calling the trip a failure, I’m calling it a win.  We successfully navigated public transportation.  Even if we didn’t mass, we got to see inside St. Peter’s.  Even if we didn’t see the Pope, we know a good strategy for viewing next time.  And that’s the beauty of living here.  We can come back whenever we want.

I’ve talked to Henry some about that time he went to the biggest church in the whole world.  “You know, St. Peter’s.”  Henry is all, “Mr. MacGregor’s garden.”  What, kid?  Oh, right, Peter Rabbit.  Different Peter, but at least something is rubbing off.

NaNoWriMo. This is happening.

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NaNoWriMo

After I dithered about it here, I decided to pull the trigger.  I’m participating in National Novel Writing Month.  It started this past Saturday on November 1.  I’m already 4,938 words in.  Only 45,062 to go!  Gulp.

Because I can’t write a post without caveat-ing, here is my caveat.  I’m not giving myself an out not to finish, but I did pick some easier subject matter.  Instead of trying for an original work of fiction, I’m going for a memoir essay-style thing.  Why, you ask?

First, I didn’t have a great idea for a piece of fiction.  My only hatchlings of ideas involve things like zombies and post-apocalyptic stuff.  Which surprised me.  That is definitely not where I thought things would go.  I decided not to delve into these ideas (right now anyway) because I didn’t want to give myself nightmares for the month, and I worried I’d be out of plot in three days.  With my own life, I should (in theory!) have enough content for 50,000 words.  Also, it is easier to write non-linearly if I want to.

Second, I want to remember.  I’m not sure this book will be shared.  I may try to do something with an essay or two out of it.  This is more for me.  My memory is not great.  On the whole, I’m grateful that I got to grow up before the world of social media, but digital cameras sure help keep things from falling through the cracks.  Writing makes me think about things I thought I had forgotten.  It helps me remember.

Third, I am reading a lot of memoirs right now so this seemed logical.  After being unimpressed with my current kindle selections, I reread Tina Fey’s Bossypants.  I read Lena Dunham’s Not that Kind of Girl.  I just finished Amy Poehler’s Yes Please.  (Order of personal enjoyment: Fey, Poehler, Dunham.)  [Update:  I haven’t re-read recently, but I shouldn’t leave out Mindy Kaling’s Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) and Judy Greer’s I Don’t Know What You Know Me From: Confessions of a Co-Star.  So more like Fey, Kaling, Greer, Poehler, Dunham.)  But the one that really tipped it for me is Jenny Lawson’s Let’s Pretend this Never Happened.  As James commented, I’ve never read a book like this before.  There are rambling parentheticals, footnotes, and non sequiturs.  This may sound terrible, but it works.  This is the most I have actually laughed out loud at a book in recent memory.  My life does not have magical squirrels or other West Texas charms, but reading this book made me feel freer about how writing can be.  In the one recent-ish writing course I took, I was told to avoid parentheticals.  Now I say tough.  I adore parentheticals.  This is my book and I can write it however I want.  Thanks, Jenny Lawson.

Anyone else doing NaNoWriMo?