#12 Make gnocchi from scratch

It is almost November and the list is alive and well... I think I have crossed out half of the items on it, and another 5 are being planned and executed sometime soon!

As I said before many of these things I want to do, others are dreams I like to fulfill. Some of them were easy to do, others are not going to be done. Many exciting things that are not on the list have sneaked into my life. All in all, I am happy with the way things are.

Of course, I would like to be true to myself and find the time to make the things on the list that count the most, of course these are the most difficult to do. Step by step I am getting there. (I know I am rambling, and I know I must have lost many of you, but I also know that sometimes I need to talk to myself, even if by blogging)

So, if you found this post by googling Gnocchi recipe, and you have not left in frustration yet, your patience will pay. This is by far my favorite Italian recipe, easy, tasty and versatile.

Ennia, my sweet Italian cooking teacher taught me how to make these beauties. I hope to be able to put into words her ability and talent.

1 kilo red potatoes (these Italian potatoes remain dry and sturdy after cooking)
400 grams hard wheat flour or farina di grano duro
Salt to taste

Cover potatoes with water, add salt and boil until tender.
Peel potatoes when cool enough to handle, then extrude them with a potato ricer.

Add some flour to a working surface and knead the potato with flour and salt until you get a soft dough that is easy to shape and handle. Roll it so it is as thick as your arm.

Cut wide slices, then cut these slices in four or five pieces. Roll them into thin rolls, as thick as your index finger.

Roll the pieces with additional flour, and then cut into small pieces (as wide as they are thick).

Gnocchi could be boiled at this point, but Ennia is from the Venetto region of Italy and she works her magic with a fork to give the gnocchi their particular shape (it holds more sauce this way, you see?)

To shape the gnocchi like this, you will need to press the small piece of dough lightly into the fork, your finger leaves an indentation on one side, the fork leaves its own indentation on the other side. Beautiful, aren't they?

Add some more flour to prevent them from sticking to each other.

Bring salted water to a boil and drop the gnocchi gently into it. Raise the heat so the gnocchi raises to the top. Once the gnocchi floats, it is ready, so take it out with a slotted spoon and serve onto plates accompanied with your favorite sauce.

What it is

It is beautiful at the moment, a mild, sunny, blue skies kind of beautiful.

It is interesting, reading "The Lost Symbol" and learning about things hiding in plain sight.

It is colorful, participating in 365 Days in Color, opening my eyes and really looking.

It is intelligent, listening to The Skeptics' Guide to the Universe.

It is busy, starting my new art class, complete with a companion blog.

It is fun, learning how to play tennis, and applying myself to something different.

It is creative, the series of drawings I am making inspired by my surroundings.

It is informative, travel guides I write for ItalyItalia.

It is lovely, baking with Nicolas, and watching favorite old movies.

It is wonderful, having good friends for a visit.

It is exciting, that my "sis" has asked me to be her son's Godmother!

This is what it is.

One day (#28)

Remember the list? I do. Every day. December is almost here, and I have so many more things to do...

Well better not to think much about it, and just keep on doing. As I said before, the list will change, and it will grow, and it will diminish, and it will be a reminder, but what the list will never be is an obligation. And with that out of my system, here comes #28: Cronicle a day in our life with pictures.

This is just a day, not a "I will remember forever" kind of day, it is just a simple day. This is a Sunday in our home, in our town. The loving fabric of our lives.

Good morning my sweet dog. We are up early on Sundays, let the boys sleep.

Sunday's breakfast always includes pancakes, good coffee, and today we have some leftover sour cream cake. Yum!

All ready for a sweet family breakfast.

Nicolas and I reviewed his math, and he explained to me what he had to do. I am glad I was able to help!

Then we were off to the town's flea market, always an opportunity...

for pictures, and treasures...

even if you don't buy anything.

We came home to eat a light lunch of pasta alla amatriciana, salad, bread, and off course vino. All that spice sure makes you thirsty!

While the boys watched Formula-1 (they like cars, what can I say)

I went to the computer to write some emails, and somehow I ended up on Facebook. Suddenly an hour had gone by...

Did you know that pasta is a runner's fuel? A run by the lake with Fernando... I should be more specific: we run at the same time, but we don't run together... I can't keep up with his pace... Moca keeps me company.

Apperitivo while watching the sunset, then arepas made by Fernando, some reading and Angels and Demons to bring the night to a close -with more vino, off course.

Countdown

I truly do not want to think about it, but I know that every day that goes by brings me closer to the moment when we'll have to leave Italy. Well, that is if everything goes according to plan... What plan?
I am talking about the three year contract that brought us here in the first place! We are starting our third year and I can't help myself but to think of all the things that I am not going to see or enjoy in a year's time.

We have a fig tree, having a fig tree in your property just screams ITALIAN, doesn't it? This has been a great year for figs, sweet and plump but not too watery. This is my last fig season in Italy. I am eating a lot of them... I want to remember their texture and flavor, their milky traces on my fingers, their wonderful color.

We have several chestnut trees in the yard. The chestnuts are all ready to star falling fast from their little cocoons and into our (by now) expert hands. I am ready to spend many a night by the fire roasting, peeling, and enjoying the little sweets. Chestnuts and Vino Novello, I am ready for you. Then again, I am not ready to let go. This would be my last chestnut season in Italy.

I am living the moment, enjoying the flavors, breathing the crisp air. Love is a funny thing, it sneaks into your heart when you are not looking... I love my Italy (winters and all.)

But my Italy is not only a place, it is also the wonderful people we know. I love my friends here, I love the way they think, I love their humor and knowledge, their kindness and generosity. I want to keep them close... I am not ready to say goodbye. Not today, nor tomorrow, nor in a year.


A glimpse of my Italy. Dinner with dear friends at Pien's.

When tomatoes make you smile.

Sometimes we take things for granted, and only their absence brings a renewed longing for them. This is a tale of Italians, friendship, tomatoes and sun. We have the most caring, friendly neighbors one can wish for; they are Italian, born and bred in this hill that we now call home. They own the house we rent, and from the moment we met, they have gone beyond any expectations one could have about a landlord. They help with big and small problems, they cook for Fernando and Nicolas when I am away, they take care of our dog when we travel, they shower us with produce they grow in their backyard, they care.

Francesco, their youngest son is a renaissance man. At 17 he is always on the go, fixing machines and bikes, fishing, cutting wood, raking leaves and piling snow. He also cooks AND grows his own fruit and vegetables. He also happens to need some help with his english, and I am more than happy to help him.

Way back when summer was just a promise in the near future, I had talked to Francesco to help us grow our own vegetables. Then we were busy with traveling and visitors, and then it was summer! I only got to grow some essentials (basil for my pesto, and mint for my mojitos - I have my priorities) so we never got around to planting tomatoes, or lettuce, or zucchini...

Sweet Francesco would show up at my doorstep for his english lesson, and he would always bring us a fresh cornucopia of delights. We had eggplants, peppers, onions, zucchini, and of course many tomatoes. Let me tell you about these tomatoes, as they were not like anything I had before; they were plump and sweet, and oh, so RED. We ate them like you would eat a peach, savoring every bit of their juice. They made the best Caprese salad, and we enjoyed them as topping for simple bruschetta. These tomatoes tasted of sunny days and caring hands, of half spoken english-italian conversations, and the smiles that come along.

Because I learn from example, I want to share (if only virtually) some of the goodness with you. Here is a simple recipe for basic bruschette, easy to do and great as antipasti.



bread (sourdough, thick crust) sliced at about 1/2 inch
2-3 ripe tomatoes (no Italian neighbor required)
basil leaves
salt and pepper
GOOD olive oil
white wine vinegar
1 clove of garlic

Grill the sliced bread on a grill or in your oven until crisp on both sides. Cut a clove of garlic and rub each piece of bread with it. Drizzle with GOOD extra virgin olive oil, and add a bit of salt to taste.

Clean tomatoes and discard their core and seeds. Cut the tomatoes into chunky pieces, and tear the basil to release the flavor. In a bowl mix the tomatoes with the basil, season with salt and pepper, add olive oil and a bit of vinegar.

Top each bruschetta with the tomato topping, and enjoy the taste of summer!

Fast food in Italy? You bet!

Remember the pasta vending machine I blogged about a while ago? Well, I have something new for you: a pizza vending machine!


I have been to the Malpensa airport several times in the last month, during our last visit I spotted this brand new Italian invention and I just had to snap a couple pictures to share with you. (pardon my cell phone quality pics!)


An interesting contraption inside.


Your choice of four flavors: marguerita, salamino, prosciutto, and ?


Only 2,5 minutes... I have yet to try it... maybe I will be brave enough the next time...

Outdoors

YES! We have been spending a lot of our time outdoors. The weather is at its best; the rain has finally left, leaving behind a beautiful carpet of green and flowers everywhere. Our little yard is getting spruced, the table, the chairs, the canopy ready for the long afternoons. On earth day we planted some flowers, geraniums on the balcony, bright colorful flowers by the kitchen window, and I got my long awaited sunflowers too! I get to cross # 17 from the list!


We also splurged on two lounge chairs for the garden. Now we do as the Italians do, we sunbathe every chance we have and clearly we are getting a little bit of our Californian color back. I was fading away to snow colored whiteness... winters are long around here... But Spring is here to stay, unlike last year when everybody was talking about having an early winter- or Dutch weather- when it did not stop raining for the whole month of May, and then it kept on raining for the whole month of June... Not something I want to remember.

The chairs are placed facing our gorgeous view of the Swiss Alps, which can be a bewitching scene. I am making mojitos to celebrate the weather (#38), so far I am buying the mint at the market, but come the new moon, we will be planting our herb garden (#34) to keep us stocked for a while. I only wish I had an ice dispenser in my fridge... HA! Keep on dreaming, she says!

Reading Sense and Sensibility, and wondering how things are going to work out for all involved. Listening to Macaco and loving it. Getting ready for my trip to Barcelona where I will meet with four of my childhood friends. Loving life and running.

The Italian Job (for real)

Have you seen the movie The Italian Job? If you have not, imagine a group of very handsome and smart thieves who get away from the police while driving little mini-coopers (driving is an understatement, car juggling is more like it.)

Anyhow, yesterday we may have encountered the real people that inspired the movie! I am certain. My son and I were driving back home through the little streets of Varese when I heard a police car siren behind us. I, the good citizen that I am, slowed down and stopped next to the sidewalk to let them go by. The car behind me (a mini-cooper) took off at a speed that made me realize he was not going to stop, but instead he was going to try to get away! The police car accelerated past us, and soon cut the mini-cooper off -just to clarify, this was happening right in front of us, not even 10 meters away- Two policemen came out of the car, and when the mini-cooper's driver did not follow their instructions to get out, they felt it necessary to take out their guns and point them at him (in our direction, may I add.)

While this was happening, I was fidgeting with my phone to try and get a picture. When I was about to snap a good one, another driver decided that I had had too good of a seat to watch the developing drama for too long, and he squeezed his car in between us and the mad driver from the movie! So, you will have to take my word for it. I saw it all, and it was unbelievable.

To think that I drove on the streets of LA for 10 years and never saw a freeway chase!

Drama Queen!

One of the great things about taking a ceramic class is that I have made some very creative friends. One of them, Laura, belongs to a drama group in town. She invited me to participate on the play that they were working at the time. I was elated, as I love theater ( I was a very active member of my college´s drama group) and could see no better way to spend some winter nights than rehearsing with some crazy Italians.


The play is more a "happening" than an actual play, with a series of scenes united by a common tread. Some of the scenes include dancing, singing, reading or playing music; all of them refer to the "other," or the foreign one. Several people, like me, were invited to participate as foreign guests; we were to bring something of our culture to the play. In the beginning I had imagined some Colombian dancing, but without a partner the idea did not go far.


Yesterday was our premiere. I participated in a group dance, and I read from a text by Gabriel García Márquez in Spanish, alternating with an Italian reading it in Italian. In another scene (all the foreigners) came together with their Italian hosts and did a performance, which ended the play. We had a decent crowd at the Apollonio, the main theatre in Varese, and everything went smoothly. There was a fantastic energy in the room, young and old, Italian or stranieri, we all enjoyed the experience. We will do it again soon.

Ristorante Bologna, Varese

I have become a real foodie since moving to Italy. There is no way around it, everything is permeated by La Cucina. If you eavesdrop random conversations around town (not that I do!) you will discover the majority of people talking about food, or using food metaphors to explain things. My ceramics teacher, for example, will welcome us to the class with coffee, use recipes to help us understand the facts of glazing, and give us wine while we work. It should be no surprise that I am making very particular pieces in this class!

But I digress. I am here to write about one of the nicest restaurants in the area. Ristorante Bologna is a traditional northern Italian restaurant. It is THE restaurant in Varese. It is not a fancy place, but it will surely give you a true dinning experience at a good value. The place itself is located in the ground floor of the Hotel Bologna, in the center of Varese, close to the pedestrian area of downtown. You need to make reservations in advance, as the place is a favorite with families and large groups of friends. Tables are usually set for 10 or 12 people. We have been lucky to find a table for three a couple times without a reservation, it is always worth to take a peek inside the dinning room, Cesare -the manager- might find some room for you.


You must order the house Antipasti, which includes a large board plentiful of salumi, salamino, salame piccante, coppa, lardo, mortadella and pancetta cotta; large containers with pickled onions, pickled salsiccia cruda, and pickled cucumbers. They will also bring a large tray with several cold dishes, including insalata capricciosa, a bean-pepper-onion salad, cheese and carpaccio.


We always debate about skipping the primo, and jumping right into the secondo, but after so much protein from the antipasti, we end up craving some pasta. This last time was not an exception, as the tagliatelle con mirtilli e funghi porcini (tagliatelle with blueberries and porcini mushrooms) was calling us loud and clear. It was delicious, the mushrooms flavor the sauce so delicately, while the blueberries give a little burst of sugar to the plate. A nice contrast, and a beautiful dish (I must apologize for my photos, they were taken with my phone).

If you have room and you want to try a great dish, you should try the filetto al pepe verde (a lean beef filet with a green pepper sauce), or a tagliata (thinly sliced meat, drizzled with herbed oils, and accompanied with vegetables and/or potatoes). We had to pass on the secondo, and instead indulged with a shared tiramisu. After coffee, the waiter brings a number of bottles to the table, mostly grapa. This time around we chose the fragoline, which is a liqueur made with strawberries, alcohol and sugar. It is DELICIOUS! I am now scouting a bottle to keep handy, as I can see using a little bit of this nectar on top of a nice bowl of gelato... I can taste it!


ALBERGO RISTORANTE BOLOGNA. Via Broggi, 7 - 21100 Varese - Italy +39 0332 232100 - 234362

Permit of Stay (Permesso di Soggiorno) based on a point system???

The Italian Senate has approved a Lega Nord's proposal to modify so called "security laws" in regards to foreigners in Italy. These modifications have been called racist and inhuman by Walter Veltroni, leader of the opposition.

This article from Corriere de la Sera (in Italian,) talks about the changes encompassed by the new laws: higher fees to apply for a permit to stay (80 to 200 euro), the possibility for doctors to denounce any illegal alien, the legalization of non-armed community watch groups, and a point based system as a regulation for acquiring and keeping a permit of stay.

The Catholic church, as well as many doctors have stated that they will continue to help poor inmigrants that need their help. Doctors Without Borders' director in Italy, Kostas Moschochoritis, one of the promotors of Non siamo spie (We are not spies) has appealed to the lower house to review the law -as it moves from the Senate to the Chamber of Deputies next week.

Healthcare restrictions are the most controversial changes proposed, and I hope the Chamber does not pass them.

Closer to home is the issue of the point system to regulate the permit of stay. If you are an expat in Italy, you are likely to have a permit of stay (P di S), or you have applied for one, or you are waiting for the renewal of it. Now, the permit will have a base of 10 points assigned after the foreigner subscribes to an Integration Agreement. This Agreement requieres of the foreign citizen the following:

-A minimal knowledge of the Italian language (a certificate relating to the minimal standards set by the European Council regarding European common languages)

-Adherence to the Values Act of citizenship and integration, corresponding to the Home Secretary decree of the 23th of April 2007

- Basic knowledge of the main rules of the legal order. Its’ obedience is an essential requirement for peaceful living.

Confused? I am. I read this article (in English) which tries to break down the proposal, while evaluating its possible consequences, and I am frightened by these changes. Today, it is difficult enough to apply for a Permit to Stay, trying to navigate a bureaucratic sea of paperwork, while patiently awaiting the arrival of the card, only to start all over again. I cannot imagine the nightmare it would become if an Italian test and an assimilation test are required in order to apply.

What do you think? Do you have any insight into this matter? Please leave your comment.

Still Winter

Still in the midst of it. Still discovering the quiet between the quiet. Still blue.

If we are to believe the groundhog, we still have a long way to go until we enjoy Spring weather, colors and sounds. I am restless.

But I have to concede to the fact that I am enjoying some aspects of the season. I am discovering a taste for creative cooking. All that time indoors, surrounded by hungry people, with the right ingredients at hand; I am undertaking subtle risks. I am not successful every time, but I am happy most of the time. I will say this is a good recipe to fight the Winter blues.

My latest adventure was initially conceived to participate in World Nutella Day 2009. I will share my wild, calorie powered, delicious recipe with you on February 5th. The official Nutella Day.

Why don't you come and join in the fun? See you then.

The wheels on my car go round and round...

Have I told you yet that white, beautiful snow gives me the blues? I think Winter is the hardest part about our move to Italy (Yes, it snows in Italy!) I just can't get used to it! I am ill prepared, mostly because I do not want to face the fact that winter is here.

Being the professional procrastinator that I am, I still have my regular tires on my car... call it denial, call it wishful thinking... Anyhow, my little Peugeot has changed my life since the moment I got it last June, I can go places, I can meet with people, I can teach, and I can take classes. I am independent, I can do anything that I want; well, that is until snow covers the roads and everything becomes a mess!

Yesterday I was getting ready for my art class, when quietly the lady in white sneaked into view. She did her work slowly and magnificently, after just an hour of her visit I was no longer able to see the bricks on my driveway, nor the asphalt on the road. I had to act quickly, so I packed all my materials, got my warmest shoes on, a good coat, an umbrella, and my trusty Peugeot. I was on my way with plenty of time to spare, as I left the house an hour and a half before the class and it usually takes me twenty minutes to get to school. Well, my Colombian naiveté got me going, but I was about to learn a lesson!

I got down the hill from my house easily, then I was on the main road to Varese and enough cars had gone by to make it look easy. I was cautious, I inched my way up to the city, then I had to stop at a light. I learned all there was to be learned about traction and speed right then and there. My wheels spun and skidded, but I managed to move forward. As I got into town things just got worse: more traffic, more stops, more hills.

Time had no problem advancing while I was stuck. Minutes flew by, and I found myself at the bottom of the hill that leads to the school. The snowplow had not had a chance to come by this secondary street, there were cars stuck right and left. I considered leaving the car at the bottom and walking, but I had too many things with me. I went on, or I should say my car went on, as I felt I had no control whatsoever of the machine. I got stuck more than once, but somehow I was able to get out. Thinking about my little students who were about to be released from school kept me going. I dug myself into deep snow when turning around to park, again I learned on the spot how to get out of it! I went back and forth, I moved the wheels right and left, until I had some room for traction, accelerating slowly until I was FREE!

I parked, run, and I got to the school as the kids were getting out! All was good until I cut one of my little students with the kid-safe scissors, but that is a story for another day!

It is here!

Earlier than expected, it comes and covers my world. I do not like snow at my front step, I am from the tropics! I can appreciate the beauty of this white blanket, the bright light reflected on everything, yet I am sad.

Black sheep

Mi little black car was trapped by all these sheep trying to cross the road. This time of year traveling shepherds come to this area and set their motor homes in the open fields. The sheep flock travels from field to field all day long, they graze here and tomorrow they graze there, and usually we end up being the intruders...


I do not mind the little ones. I wish I could tell you more about the shepherds, their traditions, or where they come from. I have not a clue. Do you know? Please leave a comment if you do. Drive safe, you never know what you will find around the corner!

La Cucina senza Nicola

I have news! I have started Italian cooking classes with the nice, knowledgeable, and 100% Italian Ennia. She is a long time friend of my friend Pien, and she is happy to teach this clueless Colombian some of her secrets. We met for the first time on Friday to cook a traditional lasagna bolognese as well as a delicious tiramisù. All this for a Saturday's dinner party in honor of my sweet husband's birthday.

Ennia cooks like all great cooks, without measuring while tasting here and there. I am not going to write down the recipe, as I do not have exact measurements, but I will try to pass on some of the particulars that make her cooking special.


See this great looking bundle of fresh rosemary? It is all tied around a big garlic clove, and its purpose is to flavor the sugo without leaving a trace of itself in the bolognese (you take it out once you are done).


What about this luscious meddley of colors? It is a soffrito, which means to fry gently. The vegetables (carrots, celery, and onion) are softened in good olive oil, enough of it so that the vegetables do not brown. Do not cover it while cooking, as you do not want to steam the soffrito. Cooking takes about 15 minutes. Soffrito is the base of many Italian dishes.


The bolognese sauce is made with equal parts ground veal, and ground pork. The meat is browned with the finished soffrito over high heat. Once browned, add the peeled and diced tomatoes, the wine, the garlic-rosemary bundle, salt and pepper. Bring it to a boil, then lower the heat to a minimum and simmer for 1 1/2 to 2 hours. The smell will let you know that the sugo is ready.


Real lasagna bolognese includes many layers of thin pasta, bolognese sauce applied thinly, bèchamel sauce, and grated parmigiano. The picture above showcases the delicious bèchamel sauce, which Ennia mixed with the bolognese before spreading it on the noodles.


Making lasagna the traditional way is a labor of love. It takes a long time, but it is worth the effort. You will use every cooking implement you own, as every layer needs its own pan, saucepan, or container. It is better to make the lasagna the previous day, as it will have time to sit and when served it will keep its shape. I will share the tiramisú recipe on another post. Our Italian friends were impressed, and to tell you the truth, so was I.

Ognissanti

Today is a holiday in Italy: Ognissanti or All Saints.

I learned about this holiday last year, when my neighbor Rosanna was making a beautiful flower bouquet to take to the cementery. I thought then that I would like to partake in this particular memorial, it took me a year to do it.

Back home in Southern California, I had the opportunity of participating in Dia de los Muertos or Day of the Death at Self Help Graphics -a printmaking studio in East LA. I enjoyed the altares, and the sweet treats, and I appreciated the playfulness with which death came around during these festivities.

I have to confess that I am attracted to all rituals celebrating the end of this life as we know it. It must be my Catholic upbringing, or just plain old morbid sensibility. I just find them incredibly beautiful.

With this mindset was that I went down to the town's cemetery in the early afternoon. The rain that has been our permanent companion for the last week had stopped its dancing and pounding, and the sun was breaking through the clouds long enough to give me the chance to take some pictures.

I took my camera, and went to work. Little did I know that every single person in town was going to make their way to the cemetery after lunch. I felt out of place, like an uninvited guest. I was respectful of the people paying their respects, so I avoided taking pictures of them. I took some shy shots of the place, then I hid my camera and looked.

I saw a community larger than our place and time, I saw families connecting through their common history. I would not describe this as a joyful event, but as a communal event, like so many things Italian. Friends remembering old gone friends, great-grandparents telling stories of their parents, children bringing flowers to unknown relatives.

The majority of the visitors would clean the graves, carefully picking up death flowers, all the while talking with themselves long monologues of memories, and news.

Every single person came carrying flowers, mostly yellow. They were all wearing dark colors. I thought it a startling contrast, and I wonder if they see it: a dark background to the multicolored bursts of life.

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?

Happy Birthday Nicolas!

We have been busy, really busy! We had a marathon of a celebration for Nicolas' birthday. He is eleven years old now, but he likes to think that he is sixteen...

My son likes to play the electric guitar, he is not alone in this as many of his classmates play the drums, or the bass, or the electric guitar. They have bands (one band with different members each time) and they love to play together. He and his friends had been practicing for his birthday concert for a while, talking about it for ages... this concert was meant to be the centerpiece of the celebration! What is a mother to do? Well, in my case, I cleaned out the garage for the performance, arranged for husband to go pick up a drum set, and held a general practice on Saturday morning. Then on Saturday afternoon all the guests (eleven of them, including three girls) arrived for a day of fun.


First, they had to go down to the nearby farm, to look at the animals, hide around the buildings, and feel completely independent... the farm is down the road from the house, and to hear them talk about it you would think that Disney missed out on something... They love the fact that they can go on their own to the place, and they can explore, and roll on the hay, and chase the chickens, and pet the horses, and who knows what else. After the farm, it is time to explore the nearby trail, as it is quite isolated, and surrounded by forests...


Tired from the walk we headed down to the town for the best gelato around, and then we went back home. It was concert time -but it was not to happen- as Nicolas' guitar broke a string! Nick decided to sit with everyone else and watch his friends play... but wait, his good friend Sam's dad gave him the best gift of the day, as he found out what had happened and came to the house with a brand new set of strings!!! What kindness!

The concert went on for a while, until they took a break to dance the night away after eating... and dance they did... the whole house danced with the beat! Just loud, delicious fun.

They settled for a while to watch a movie, some left at eleven or so, and some others stayed the night. I wouldn't dare call this a sleep over, because we did not sleep much. Pancakes for breakfast gave a sweet end to our all around celebration.

In case you didn't know...

The nice folks from expat interviews asked me to answer some questions for their site. This is a handy resource for people thinking about moving to another country. Here you can find real answer to practical questions, as well as personal blogs by expats all over the world.

My regular visitors know a lot about me, but if you are curious, you can find more about what I think here.