Sogni di Sicilia

Today is November 8, and in my mind I had tomorrow, the 9th, as the Festa di San Martino. Perhaps it's celebrated on the weekend, but the actual feast day is November 11th. Who cares? you may ask. San Martino is the patron saint of wine! And November is when the Novello is bottled and ready. A young, ready-to-drink, un-serious wine, whose French cousin is called Beaujolais Nouveau. Celebrating San Martino, however, isn't ageist, and wines from baby years such as Novello, all the way up to the heavily-vintaged bottles, are opened, drunk, and enjoyed. We celebrated at a sala during our very first tenure, and Etna Wine Forum was last year, but other years-- nothing. We'll stay tuned to see if anything happens around here for it. Arrrghhhh and I can't help but lament that somewhere, sometime, during the course of our walk and errands, I lost my beloved coin medallion bracelet from an artisan jeweler in Lipari. Damn damn damn! But I'm trying to let it go and just be app...

I set my alarm to wake up and get going, trying to set the rhythm for our time here. I don't know if it's the overcast day or finally being able to relax after being in viaggio  for a week, but I'm super sleepy today!  This morning involved doing just a few things, including supervising Mariella and Andrea putting up Elena's Christmas garlands, before Vincenzo called us down to lunch. Ah, Mariella, what lunches you create! Today, being Friday, meant pesce , of course. I heard Giuseppe the fish monger ring the bell at 7:00 this morning for his delivery. Mariella prepared it simply, with scant bits of garlic and cherry tomatoes simmered in olive oil, then chunks of salmon, calamari, sweet petite shrimp, and the tiniest clams called lupini . With a sprinkle of hot pepper flakes, it was a mouthful of heaven balanced with just enough hell. Delicious. The secondo was a spinach frittata and crusty bread. Mariella sent up poached pears last night, so we have dessert if we want...

Alessandro (aka Rachele's dad) picked us up from the airport, and we all talked nonstop from there to home. He's a peach. We were greeted like metal filings to magnets; the family flocked in all at once and gave us hugs and kisses, including the little ones around our knees. I mentioned that Doug and Lori would visit here, if they could stay put in a place and buy food at the market and cook together.  "Doug?" asked Maria Teresa, "the man who makes the turkey sounds?" And Rachele, behind her, laughing. "Oh; I miss Doug!" We affirmed, and Mariella and Vincenzo tripped over themselves in a linguistic hurry, insisting they come and stay here. Elena and family have a church retreat this weekend, so they packed off in the evening. We took a little walk down to Bar Cristal for aperitivi, Joe having a Negroni and me, a glass of white wine. Of course a tray of yummy snacks arrived as part of the price for a glass of anything to drink. Later, we dined with ...

I missed a few blog sessions this past year. We spent time here in the fall (2024) and again this spring (on the heels of our Morocco trip), but I didn't blog. No reason. Just didn't. Then Rachele came to Minnesota for the month of July and a week of August, enough time to attend tennis camp, and for friends, family, neighbors, and tennis partners to fall in love with her -- and it was mutual! Now, rounding off the year and escaping tRump's America (barely... there were delays and snags, thanks to his ridiculous government shutdown), we are back in the Motherland. A special thank you to the Rome info desk woman who did in two minutes what a hundred phone calls to Delta couldn't. Our luggage arrived shortly after her intervention. Starting with some days in Rome, we visited the wildly intelligent and always interesting Maria Grazia. I met a lovely couple, Candy and Scott, from San Francisco, as we meandered home from dinner and nightcaps. Joe sat, then supined, upon a si...