Piove, another house, another lunch
I walk everywhere, but absolutely hate walking in the rain.
"What are we going to do all day?" I asked Joe.
"You know what Antonio would say," he responded.
On what sadly became the farewell tour with Joe's sister, she asked this rain-day question of Antonio, the bartender at my friend's hotel in Sorrento. We all love Antonio. He smiled slyly, splayed his hands and shrugged his shoulders, saying, "If you are at home with an Italian man and can't go outside, well...." To which Mary wittily responded, "Then why do you have just one kid, Antonio? It hasn't rained much?" Even the proud macho Antonio got a laugh out of that! But Mary had a way of making anyone around her smile. And now Vincenzo just called Joe to join him on an errand, so "problem" solved.
They took off, and later, so did I, to buy butter for making chocolate chip cookies. They saw me walking home as they drove back, and Vincenzo already knew I didn't want a ride home because I enjoy my walks.
I baked the cookies, 2/3 unsuccessfully. The first batch: oven not hot enough. Second batch: burned. Third batch: perfect. I'll bring the good ones and two examples of the bad ones to show Mariella, and offer them up for dessert.
Enzino told me of a good house hunting Internet site, on which even private sales might be listed. I think I found the perfect "brownstone," but the neighborhood is unfamiliar to me. I will show it to Vincenzo in a few minutes, when we go to lunch. It is unbelievably affordable; almost pocket change. A refrigerator will need to be purchased, but all else appears move-in ready.
Vincenzo approves, at least until we see the listing, and Giuseppe Greco knows exactly where it is. "You can take a caffè and cornetto at Scandura every morning," he suggested. We must wait until Monday to call, since realtors don't work on weekends around here-- that is family time (!)
Giuseppe told us that tomorrow our names are Karen and Joseph Greco, his cousins from America. This way, we will get into the Etna Wine Forum for free. We have tickets starting at 11:00 a.m. A good part of it is in the palazzo courtyard, so the rain has pushed some of the activities around to different days than originally planned.
We had an excellent white wine with lunch today. Mariella again made a beautiful pasta, this time with swordfish and eggplant. For dessert, we had grapes, pears, and ficodindia from the vineyard. Also my chocolate chip cookies, which everyone loved.
Vincenzo proposed an idea for his restaurant (yet another one of his business endeavors): international theme nights. Perhaps once a week, say, Thailand night; another, India, and of course, an American Night. He wants chocolate chip cookies for it.
To be noted, I recognize that the PC Police will correct "American" to "United States" or "from the US," but everyone here understands that people from the US are Americans. And that North America includes not only us, but people from Canada who call themselves Canadians. And that Central America includes Costa Ricans, Mexicans, etc., with South America encompassing Argentinians, Peruvians, Ecuadoreans, et al. I know it's our PC job to correct, educate, and say all this differently, but y'all can bring your butts over here and take care of adding that part to the 100,000 words we are already tirelessly translating in our heads and on our tongues. It's far more important to me to create a bridge and a human connection than to risk that humanity by battling over every PC detail. Rant over.
And of course, being at Vincenzo's table, there were discussions and lessons about so many topics. "Kahren, una lezione di nuovo," Mariella winked from across the room. "Vincenzo è un 'mental coach'," added Giuseppe in concentrated Italianglish.
We headed upstairs after a round of Fernet Branca, grappa, and an invitation (to Joe) for a weekend of camping (all of these drinking/camping activities are for the men). "Un weekend for relax for Joseph," added Giuseppe.
With tonight's schedule now open, I was going to suggest we try Red Fish, but again, I'm so stuffed!
Ettore walked in shortly after we came upstairs, bringing a dinosaur coloring project, which was a little gift I brought him from World Market's trinket aisle. We had a nice, non-destructive playtime together. Elena arrived a while later, asking if we wanted caffè. She returned with due espressi and a big mug of American coffee for herself. After helping Ettore and I color for a while, she and Joe figured out how to make a PayPal transaction for the Tuscany trip. It went through Joe's PayPal, so now I just need to find my half to pay him back (not enough in Venmo at the moment; this trip was an unexpected addition). We had talked about Sardinia and Calabria trips, but at this rate I think I'll need to put the brake$ on any further excursions -- I live on Social Security and I'm trying to buy a house, after all.
Ettore and I played a jumping frog board game while the two of them figured out PayPal, and he thought it was hilarious that my frog playing piece ended up "morta" every time (upside-down=dead)!
Elena and Ettore soon left to get ready for church, so I asked Joe if he wanted to walk to look at the house I found on the private listing site. We took a pleasant stroll. It's in a nice neighborhood, and, as Giuseppe had promised, very close to Scandura. Elena tried calling the property owner earlier, but no luck. So we'll try on Monday.
We poked around Rosalba's neighborhood on the way back, taking another glance at this lovely property. It's still the contender in the most primo location. Across the street, there were tents set up at Villa Favare for the Etna Wine Forum, with elegantly dressed couples starting to arrive.
Now back home, I'm stressing as always, about things I bring on myself, trying to figure out how to make everything work, but I promise myself to do some deep breathing and let go. It may take me a few days; it's a process with me. But, life is too short. Expensive, but short.
Maybe I'll get something to eat, after all.
******
If you put food in front of me, I'll eat it, whether or not I'm hungry. Also, I've been known to stress eat. But put me in Sicily with just about any local food, and any logic or willpower disappears.
We walked to Bar Cristal, where the price of a drink will get you that and stuzzichini alongside it. We got our usuals; a Negroni for Joe, a Campari and soda (with a fat juicy orange slice, which makes it perfect) for me. Joe ordered their incomparable arancino, but I was "too full," until the stuzzichini arrived and were placed in front of me. Chips, peanuts, local olives, and a couple each of some pizzette (silver-dollar sized baby pizzas) varieties that included caramelized onion and cheese, red sauce, and prosciutto-stuffed mini calzone. I had a bite of Joe's pistachio arancino and my eyes rolled back into my head with delight. Joe had another Negroni, and we noticed the place was strangely empty on a Saturday night.
I asked the young man behind the bar what time they closed. It seems they're wrapping it up. Apologies! I'll pay up and we'll leave. No, no, tranquillo. He -- Antonio -- asked where we're from. I explained, and got the usual question: you're visiting BIANCAVILLA?
I gave him and the two gals we recognize from other visits there (one being the daughter of the owner) the Reader's Digest version of our trajectory to Biancavilla. When I mentioned Giuseppe Greco, Antonio exclaimed that he works for him! Not as a graphic designer, but as a printer! I explained that I, too, have a graphic design background, turned Ad agency, turned hybrid marriage of my two loves --gardens and design -- into landscape design. I laughed and nodded towards Joe... let's correct myself to say three loves. We went on to talk about Ristorante Vin, the elegant dining venue that is a sister business to Bar Cristal, saying that we've spoken at length to Vincenzo, the owner, who has won awards for his bar mixology.
"Parli l'italiano molto bene," Antonio said. I scraped my nails on the marble counter, saying he's very kind, but I know it must sound like this. We paid up, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and made our way into what has become a windy night.
Joe figured out how to stream the new season of Shrinking, and we vegged out a little before I finished writing this entry and called it a day.
Another good one, with just a sprinkling of stress. But, that's me.
Buonanotte.
PS... Are my photos showing up? They appear in my input format, but not when I view them from the blog site (as far as I can tell, anyway).
Yes.
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