From Italy with love...

Venetians pro-Obama.

La Cucina di Nicola: Dense Chocolate Banana Cake with Salted Caramel

I found this marvelous recipe at a brand new blog (to me) and we just had to try it. Rainy afternoons are here, and this gooey, sweet, piece of delicious cake was the right answer for it. Thank you Danielle!

I won't copy the recipe here, so please go to Danielle's blog and give it a try. Just a quick note, we added a bit of lemon to our cream, as the recipe calls for sour cream; and we made half the recipe for the salted caramel, next time we might make the full recipe! Good stuff.

If only this skill could get me a high paying job!

The diagnostic is in. My friend Marcello, a linguist, tells me that I am suffering from Temporary Aphasia Paradigmatic! What about that? I am special that way, yes I am...

It all started a little over three weeks ago, as I noticed that I was not only not fluid in Italian, but neither was I in English or Spanish anymore. I tried to explain it as a confusion of my aging brain, which could only take a new word if I forgot two old ones. I was kidding when I said that, but it ends up being an accurate description of what is happening to me.

I know I am not making any sense so far, but please do not blame me, blame my mush of a brain for it. I think all will make more sense if I give you some examples of my recurrent, embarrassing mistakes. Like the other day I was telling a friend that we took the train back and I said that we took the plane back. train = plane. Or the other night I was telling my husband that I have gone to the butcher (carnicero in Spanish) and I said jardinero (gardener). carnicero = jardinero. I frequently open the floor and not the door. I also go around talking about my bed as a refrigerator, or my bag as a hat... People, this is not funny! Stop laughing right now!

I was talking to my friend Debbie about it, and her husband Marcello told me that this is a disfunction that occurs to multilingual speakers in times of stress- you can blame the USCIS (U. S. Citizen and Immigration Services)- and it is usually a temporary condition. I went on the internet to find more about this, but most of the information I found is for the real aphasia, the kind suffered by stroke victims or people who had severe brain injuries.

It is really interesting to dive into the world of words and communication from another point of view. I discovered for example that the words that I am mixing up are actually related. Words are archived in the brain in files of related words. Paradigmatic relation is associative, and clusters signs together in the mind, producing sets: sat, mat, cat, bat, for example, or thought, think, thinking, thinker. Sets always involve a similarity, but difference is a prerequisite, otherwise none of the items would be distinguishable from one another: this would result in there being a single item, which could not constitute a set on its own. From Wikipedia's Course in General Linguistics

In my multilevel search of all things linguistic I found this poem, and I found it so beautiful that I am leaving you with it:

--Good-bye, sir.
--Where to?
--Madness.
--Which madness?
--Any madness, for I have turned into words.

Mahmoud Darwish

The citizenship saga continues...

I am leaving tomorrow for California as I have an important appointment that I must keep. I have my test and interview appointment for my American citizenship on Tuesday. This is my third trip this year, and I still have one more to go... The last trip will be the one to celebrate, as it would be the citizenship ceremony!!!

I am studying from the Quick Civic Lessons booklet that I was given on my last appointment. I am lucky as I get to take the easy test, and not the new one which everyone says is more difficult. I think any other test would be more difficult than answering What color are the stars on our flag? Or Who nominates judges for the Supreme Court? Really.

I will be gone until Thursday, and if I am lucky I would be able to post. Wish me luck with my interview, as this is what really matters this time around.

This is a bittersweet moment as I won't be able to vote in this election, but I am getting my blue passport! I am very excited about it!

See you soon

Blog Action Day 2008: Poverty

Today I am one of about 10,000 bloggers participating in Blog Action Day. This year we are focusing on poverty. What do I mean by focusing? I am talking about reconsidering your priorities, if only for a day.

Every time someone talks about poverty, it seems like the word is a signifier for an abstract concept that not many of my readers have experienced first hand. This is the reason I am asking YOU, today, to make a difference. I have no answers to the problem, but I am positive that everyone can do something, even if it seems like it is too little to make a difference. Just think, my little action plus your little action, plus your friend's little action, plus her friend's and family's and you have a movement!

Following is a list of the actions I take, you can use them as inspiration, join, or just help spread the word. You can also visit the Blog Action Day homepage for other ideas.

The ONE campaign. I have been involved since its beginning and I take action whenever I can. I add my voice to the thousands of others out there. Right now, ONE is asking the European Union to support a proposal to give € 1 billion left over from the 2008 budget - lots of it unspent agricultural subsidy money, to African farmers. You can take action here.

Donate to causes you care about. We support The Girl Effect. An organization helping girls living in poverty to get education and with it, a way to raise the standard of living for themselves and their families. Simple, right? Donate here.

We invest our money in ethical funds. You know, your 401K, your 529, etc. I feel much better knowing that our investment is going into funds that balance social responsibility with financial return - showing businesses that social responsibility is profitable. Now more than ever we need to tell the market that ethics are important to us.

We buy local, we support small business, and we buy Fairtrade whenever possible. You might think that this has nothing to do with poverty, but everything is connected. Your actions today, what you use and CONSUME today, have repercussions all over. I am adding a link to the Story of Stuff video, take some time to watch it, with the kids, with your friends, with anyone who is willing to listen.


Thank you for reading, and now, get busy following some of these links!

Writing group

I finally managed to make it to a meeting of the local writing group, what a pleasant experience. I met Anne, one of the organizer's, at one of the Benvenutto Varese meetings (the B.V. is a group of mostly expat women, who speak english and help each other settling in and making connections). I was lucky to find out about their group, and I decided I wanted to be part of it.

This is my first attempt to writing fiction:

The first time they met, Sara was younger, much younger. She remembers the strong smell of licorice as the dark background of their encounter, the flavor of anise forever linked to the end of her childhood. Nothing was the same after that. Even today, she can picture the moment her eyes met his, and the way he looked at her without seeing her; she felt invisible but whole. She knew then, that his eyes were the only mirrors worth reflecting into, the only place worth running towards.

Sara saw him again and again. There were times when she could read his lips, if she had wanted she could have sounded the words he said. She knew by memory the inflections of his voice, the slow and rhythmic dance vowels did in his mouth. She knew to listen when he spoke, to listen every time, to listen in silence.

To say that hers was an obsession would diminish the overwhelming feelings bursting inside her inexperienced heart. She stopped playing with dolls and started wearing make-up. Her once blissful skip of a walk became a serious performance of equilibrium on high heels. No room left for jumping and splashing in puddles, no time for running behind colorful balls, no space big enough for the two of them.

Sara kept all of it a secret. She told no one about him. He was hers alone, and the idea of sharing even his name with anybody was like breaking the beautiful mirror her grandmother kept in her room. Such beauty! Sara had spent many an afternoon hiding in the dark corners of grandma’s room looking at her own reflection. It was forbidden for her to get her little hands on the tear shaped mirror, it could break into a million pieces to never be again. She was drawn to it because of its beauty, because of her own beauty when reflected in it, but must of all, because it was prohibited for her to touch it.

The mirror never broke, Sara’s heart did. Today, She takes out the precious heirloom from the lost corners of the unforgettable, she dusts off the layers that time has piled on it and she sees her young self looking back from the past. She reapplies her lipstick and smiles the broad smile of a child. Today, she is going to see him again after many years; she can almost hear her heart skipping a beat.

She is telling no one about this, nor her husband, nor her best friend. She walks firmly with the experience of someone who has been there before. She sits in the middle of the room and carefully unwraps a piece of licorice, the lights go off and his face fills the screen, again.

prompt: In the movie theater

La Cucina di Nicola: Pancakes

Who doesn't like pancakes? We love them! We make them every Sunday for breakfast, sometimes it is oatmeal pancakes, sometimes it is banana pancakes, but the all time favorite recipe with my son is found in "Muffins and Other Morning Bakes" by Linda Collister.

As many expats know, living in Italy proves to be a challenge to pancake-lovers, as maple syrup, and pancake ready mix are difficult to find. I can not help you with the maple syrup, but this recipe is a winner when it comes to making pancakes from scratch. Nicolas' friends call them: the fluffiest pancakes ever!

PANCAKES

3/4 Cup plus 2 Tablespoons all purpose flour
a good pinch of salt
1 Tablespoon sugar
2 large eggs, separated
1 Tablespoon butter, melted, plus extra for cooking
3/4 Cup plus 1 Tablespoon whole milk

Makes 12 pancakes

Sift the flour, salt and sugar into a bowl (do not skip this step, I assure you it makes a difference!) then make a well in the center. Add the egg yolks, butter and milk and beat with a whisk until mixed. Gradually work in the flour to make a very thick but lump-free batter. In another bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff, then fold them into the batter with a large metal spoon. (I follow all instructions to the letter, even the "metal spoon" part, as I think helps with the fluffiness.)

Heat a heavy-bottom skillet until medium hot, then grease it lightly with butter. Saute the mixture in batches of 3, using a heaping tablespoon of batter for each pancake. Cook for 1 minute until golden underneath, then turn over with a spatula and cook for another minute. Eat hot with maple syrup (or Nutella in our house.)

Enjoy!

PS. I forgot to take pictures, so I will take some this coming Sunday...

Learning Italian with the butcher (not to be confused with butchering Italian)

I live in a small town. I walk down a hill, by the farm behind the cemetery, and with a couple of steps I find myself at the heart of the borgo. I walk by the bar, the bank, the gelateria, I walk up the street to the baker, and around the corner to the butcher. I wave hello to the farmacist, the owner of the merceria (for all your sewing needs), and the old ladies at the newsstand. I walk these streets as my own but I know I am a visitor, a foreigner, una straniera.

I am ever more aware of it when I open my mouth to try and speak. The words flow from my mouth in weird arrangements of real and fictional words. I keep a smile in my face, convinced that this will help me be understood; and in the fantastic italian way of things, it does! I manage to buy the bread I like while answering questions about my dog, I buy the cough remedy we need -the one the pharmacist insists is better, and saving the best for last, I go to the butcher's for my Italian lesson, my private cooking lesson, and ... let's not forget ... my meat!

My dear friend Debby introduced me to the butcher, from that first day, he always stops whatever else he is doing to personally help me. The other worker steps aside and lets his boss do the talking, and talking he does! He will talk about the weather, the nearby trails, the must-see places in the area. Once he gets comfortable, he will talk about the products he sells, the fresh eggs from the farm, the cheese with no preservatives, the sausages he makes himself, or the fabulous ravioli that is also made on the premises. If I ask the right questions I get recipes for the different cuts of meat, can you imagine? I have to focus and listen attentively as he speaks fast, and he laughs a lot at his own jokes. I pay more money for his meat than what I would at the supermarket, but it always feels like a bargain!

Who would have thought that such a small butcher-shop in such a small town would open a world of possibilities for me?