On Cuisine and Cravings

It happens inevitably. I arrive in Italy, to the land of gorgeous cuisine...to the freshest, most delicious food I've ever eaten. I spend a month indulging in the homemade pastas, rich tomato sauces, brick oven pizza, fresh mozzerella, creamy risotto, and salads sprinkled with olive oil and the most amazing balsamic vinegar in the world...and then I hear it. The neglected American side of my appetite, pushed away into some dark corner of my subconscious, not daring to show itself in such a place as Italy, can be silent no more. Our inner dialouge goes something like this:

American Appetite: Knock knock! Remember me? How about a cheeseburger and fries?

Me: Shhhhhhhhhhh. Quiet now.

AA: If I see another tomato, I'll lose it. Remember buffalo chicken? You used to feed me Subway tukey sandwiches three times a week. What gives?

Me: Sliced deli meat costs a fortune in Italy. Bowl of spaghetti?

AA: Hmm...Kraft Macaroni & Cheese?

Me: I offer you the best pasta in the world...and you want processed noodles and powdered orange cheese from a cardboard box.

AA: Correct.

Me:  Ugh...You win.

And so it ends that I scour the supermarkets for some semblance of my old American favorites. Because, even though it is silly, eating food that tastes like home every now and then brings a little comfort. Even if the food is crap and I feel slightly guilty afterwards. Nothing you can buy here is actually remotely similar, but I've taken to doing my best to recreate some favorites from scratch. A longing for barbecue sauce had me simmering a mixture of tomato sauce, sugar and balsamic vinegar with some spices...It was the right color, smelled similar, and if I closed my eyes and pretended really hard, I almost fooled myself into thinking I had it right. But it did the trick. I had more luck, however, after a craving for bread and butter pickles hit me. For those of you reading who are not American, pickles = gherkins. Bread and butter pickles are a mixture of sweet and salty, and I eat tons of them at home in the States. I found a recipe for them and managed to hunt down most of the ingredients, which is never simple here as many staples such as spices and types of sugar, etc, are different in Italy. (An example of such: In a deli, I was on the hunt for cheddar cheese, which I have yet to be able to find here. We asked the man behind the counter for cheddar, describing it when he looked uncertain as an "English cheese," and he looked at us with total disgust, giving us the Italian hand gesture equivalent to saying "You idiots!" and exclaimed loudly in Italian for all to hear "You are in Italy! We have Italian cheese!") Right...lesson learned.

Proudly displaying my first jar of homemade pickles...which turned out great!

Another comfort food that I find myself missing often is macaroni and cheese. It is a childhood favorite, which I allow myself to indulge in now and then in the States. There is no such thing here in Italy, but I came up with a doppelganger that did the trick. It wasn't yellow, but as I mentioned, yellow cheese does not exist here.

Close enough!

I have a few other favorites on my radar to try and create...baked beans is one, and buffalo sauce is another. I might even get crazy and have a go at ranch salad dressing. After all, the more I can pacify that pesky American appetite, the better. Wish me luck! 

Lost in Translation

I found this gem of a translation on a menu in a Garbatella pizzeria recently:

Tempting, but I think I'll have the spaghetti...

The Old Railway Station

Recently, Roland and I headed back to the UK for the wedding of two friends. Besides an incredible travel-related debacle that I shall discuss in a later blog, we had a wonderful time. The wedding was beautiful, and the weekend full of good friends and good times. The Bed & Breakfast we stayed in was called The Old Railway Station, located in Petworth. The B&B itself is formerly the Petworth Railway Station. The station was originally opened in 1859 as a single-platform station, and was open to customers until 1955. The closed station was later transformed into a Bed & Breakfast. The station's old waiting room is now the reception area, and guests stay inside Pullman cars which have been renovated into charming guest rooms. The cars are entered off of the platform, with the rear half of the car transformed into a bedroom and the front half a small entryway and bath. The original woodwork and detail of the inside of the cars remains original and the whole place is full of character. We absolutely loved it, and only wish we could have spent more time there! Here are a few photos...

Inside of our car, in the bedroom.

The name of our car, painted on woodwork above the bed.

Me standing in front of our car.

Inside the entryway of our room.

A Place to Rest Your Head?

Spotted in a supermercato in Rome: Quite possibly the least comfortable looking pillow I've ever seen. Fair enough, I know it is vacuum-packed to save space...but how much filling could possibly be in this pillow?? How do they sell any of these little wonders? I was so amazed that I had to document it to share...

"Super Soft" pillow...looks alright from this angle...

What?!?

My Bookshelf - Inaugural Posting

My love for books began when I was a little girl, so long ago I can't remember a time when I went anywhere without a paperback tucked away here or there. There is always a stack of books at my bedside, and if you were to venture into my mother's basement - within the maze of boxes of storage, you'd find box after box of all of the books I've accumulated in my lifetime. One day, in some future home, I'll have a room full of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and I will dig them all out, dust them off, and give them a proper home. I consider it a life gift to have such a love of reading...No matter what is happening in my own life, there will always be another world I can disappear into...and no matter where I am, I'll never be bored.

One of my favorite pasttimes at home in Chicago, I have with a group of my girlfriends and cousins. We scour bookshops, choosing new authors and new titles, and finding new favorites. These books get discussed and passed around from person to person, until the pages are bent and covers faded, and no one can remember the original owner. Being here in Italy, it is not as easy for me to take part in this tradition - so I am continuing it, in my own way, here on my blog. If I read something great, I'll post it here. I can't actually hand over the book, but at least I can hand over my thoughts.

Without further ado, here is my latest literary find: The Passage by Justin Cronin

The Passage is a post-apocalyptic tale of an American government human experiment gone terribly wrong. A man-made virus creates a new breed of "human" (I use that term loosely) which quickly destroys life as we know it, and wipes out almost all of the population of the world. Very few survivors remain. The novel follows them through their struggle for survival in a new era,  in particular a young girl who may hold the key to saving the world. The story is a thriller - part sci-fi, part mystery - with a whole lot of heart. It's not an easy book...at close to 800 pages, it's not a quick read. But Cronin's writing is beautifully done. He is a master storyteller, and despite the size of the book, the quick pace of the story never lets up. I had a hard time putting it down - Roland joked about me carrying around my "encyclopedia" everywhere we went. One of the marks of a great book is, for me, the feeling you have when it's over - when you are standing in the bookstore, looking for the next story, thinking "How am I going to top that?" This book had that for me...and I look forward to the next installments, as this is the first in a trilogy. I've also read that the movie rights to the novel have already been purchased, and Ridley Scott is signed on to direct. Not surprising to me, as I figured all along that this was a story destined for Hollywood.

That wraps up my first installment...I am looking for my next great read, so please suggest away!