Buona Domenica
Happy Sunday!
Joe and I walked to take a caffè at Bar Cristal for a change of pace. It's sweet that Piera greets us warmly whenever we step in.
I bought some mignon to either bring to Mariella's if we're lunching there, or to eat for breakfast for a week! Cannoli, sfogliatelle, choux di vario tipo; all mouthwatering at an unbelievable price.
We took a walk through neighborhoods closer to the belvedere, passing by Alessandro's Barber shop and his favorite pizza place. I noticed a restaurant we hadn't yet tried, and made note of it.
Once home, I put the mignon in the fridge and attempted to make cookies that came close to Christmas spritz. I don't have a spritz maker, so I had the idea to use a piping tip, a pastry bag, and some creativity. It turns out this thick dough will not go through a decorative piping tip, so I used only the tip holder and made little knot designs, adding sprinkles on top. The dough set up well in the fridge during my kitchen clean-up. I popped them into the oven and set my timer for four minutes under instruction time, remembering the briquettes from baking attempts last fall.
The important step: letting them cool on the cookie sheet for 20 minutes. Perfection!
Soon, Agnese called, saying to mosey down eventually for lunch. Lilliana and family arrived, which brought me joy x 1,000,000! They heard we had discussed going to Portugal, and showed us the quick video clip of their trip. They traveled there last November, and swam in the sea. I got wistful for a moment, wondering if we should switch our plans again. What astounding beauty there is in this world! Maybe we can venture there in the spring.
I brought my cookies for sampling, and got Mariella's (and Alessandro's) stamp of approval.
Lunch. Ahhhh, lunch. The choppy word itself seems so incongruous to the long and varied and beautiful experience it is.
Pasta with ragù.... reminds me of Sundays at Grandma's table. Followed by sausages, chicken cutlets, tender beefy chunks simmered in the sugo, and a savory tart of zucchine, potatoes, and cheese and rolled up in a pastry to form a big flat log. A salad filled with garden goods. Wine. Then Fernet Branca, caffè, the mignon we brought, and a dark chocolate-filled panettone that magically appeared. All while talking about politics, the art and history of Italy, travel, language, and food. Sidebar: Did you know the Statue of Liberty was modeled after a figure on Milan's Duomo?
The representation, above the central door of the Duomo, dates back to 1810 and was made by Camillo Pacetti who gave it the name La Legge Nuova (the new law). Frederic Auguste Bartholdi was inspired by "La Legge Nuova", created by Pacetti during the Napoleonic era, for the creation of the Statue of Liberty that we can all admire today in New York.
Vincenzo is adept at tying all good things back to Italy.
Some of us moved to the kitchen sitting area, where the box of puppies is kept. Teá adores the pups. I could watch Teá all day. She's a bright, beautiful, and sweet child. We sat around, talking some more, about school in America, Raky's visit, scholarships, Tomoso's dream to attend MIT's aerospace program, and Lilliana's idea that we should run a school/boarding house for all of the kids, one per year. "We are ten kids here, so ten years only; you'll be finished". We said yes; we'd love that!
Rajy finishes his degree with final exams and presenting his thesis on Wednesday; he speaks four languages (besides Italian), including Arabic. He's fascinating, easy going, and a sweet partner and dad.
Now upstairs, full. Tonight, pizza with the whole group. Ugh! I want to see them, but also I can't think about pizza right now!
I talked to Nikos, just as he was landing in Minneapolis for Thanksgiving week, and John, his chauffeur, also called me on his way to the airport to pick him up. It was great hearing from both of my boys.
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Tonight, pizza. There's never a menu; there are a lot of us talking all at once, and a cameriere right there to take our orders pronto. Couples or friends end up splitting a pizza with each other. The server turned to me. I looked at Joe and said Pistachio? (My favorite). He had a look of distaste and said no. I asked if they could do two flavors, one each half of the pizza, to which the server said yes, so I said, Ok, you have a mushroom pizza? Yes; mixed variety of mushrooms, prosciutto. Fine; that'll be my half. "Uguale" (the same), Joe said. I was a little surprised because I didn't think he liked mushrooms as much as I did.
Our pizzas took a surprisingly long time to arrive. We ate and enjoyed each other's company. Vincenzo held court on one end (aka the men's half of the table); Marisa did the same on the women's side. At one point she turned to me and said something about her and her husband, but I must've looked puzzled, because she asked Mariella to translate (Mariella doesn't speak English). Into Italian, then. Marisa had said, in Sicilian, "My husband and I have different thoughts [ways if thinking]". I laughed and commented, So this is unusual?!
I fully immerse myself listening to Marisa's rants, stories, and explanations. She and Mariella are the two who never went on to university or worked outside the home, but are by far (secondo me) the wisest of the bunch of friends.
Mariella is moving awkwardly, as if in pain, to which she'll never admit. Upon my gentle probing, she confessed having a doctor visit to address this issue on Wednesday. I'm a little bit concerned.
The late start to getting our pizza means a late end to the evening, which is careening now towards midnight.
With a head full of thoughts and a stomach full of food, it's time to say goodnight.
A domani.
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