Monday, Monday

Mondays! Artigiana is closed. Scandura is closed. Our two favorites.

On a whim, we stopped at Bar Colombo, had some very good cornetti, an excellent cappuccino for Joe, and a teeny caffè for me. 

As Joe got up to pay, the barista said, sir, you forgot your phone!, pointing to the chair he just vacated. I took that moment to ask him about the cookies in the display case near our table. One variety looked like Joe's Aunt Mary's lemon cookies, with the "wreath" ends tipped in dark chocolate. I was curious if the dough were the same.

Mi scusi signore, io ho una domanda. La zia del mio marito fa biscotti come la forma di questi. L'impasto di loro ha la buccia di limone dentro?

Sì, sì, limone o arancia, signora.

A question, sir; my husband's aunt makes cookies like these. Is there lemon flavor in the dough?

Yes, lemon or orange, madam.

He pointed out some of his personal favorite varieties, including several of the torrone. 

"Torrone," I exhaled, rolling my eyes into my head and touching my cheek. Yummy.

We conversed a little; the usual questions were asked. Where are you from, and why Biancavilla?

Joe finished paying, and the barista laughed, Signora, la tua busta! I forgot my shopping bag.

"Gli anziani!!!" I laughed -- the elderly!!!

We actually made it across the threshold with all our belongings, when he called to us again. What else could we have forgotten?

But he ran out, holding two biscotti, each wrapped in paper, for us to try. What a treat! I'll have to remember to return and buy some in bulk.

Next stop, stock up on liquor for Joe's Negronis. The Campari we bought last spring went bad. My guess, from seeing the melted objects in Elena's home when we arrived this time, is that the 115⁰F days on end were too much for the bottle to handle this past summer. I also picked up ingredients to make pasta e fagiole for lunch. Buonissima!

After lunch, we rested. Really tired. Maybe from overeating. I love pasta e fagiole.

Joe has wanted to do a trek through other parts of Italy, and proposed doing that as a substitute for the Portugal trip. Although I'd love to see more than the boot and its football, I know this has been a bit of a dream for him, and hey -- I'd love it as well. I appreciate places where we can speak the language!

So I spent lots of post-lunch time investigating our options. I've spent time in Calabria without Joe, but neither of us have experienced enough of it, and it's "the other half" of Joe's bloodline. Going up the coast by car would be a beautiful journey.

Some ideas, although the San Martino/Bologna/Perugia legs might be more than we care to add, and can save for another time. Editing is key:

We always spend at least one night in Fiumicino, especially now that we know the strip where all the locals go to eat. I actually look forward to Fiumicino.

So, I'm excited about this! Or Portugal! It's a win/win. I'm open and available for unexpected joy, indubitably available in this land (and continent) we both love.

I went for my nightly stroll, past the soccer fields and Bar Colombo. I walked up and down via Vittorio Emanuele, ending up at CRAI to buy piquant snacking cheese, morning sweets, and white wine.

At home, we called Joe's sister, Linda, and later, my mom. I tried calling my sister but she's volunteering for the greater good. Tomorrow, then.

Last-minute laundry hung to dry overnight.

Joe washed dinner dishes and took out the garbage, so it's a banner evening. I'm drawn to my pillow, especially after enjoying a little too much wine!

Buonanotte.