Sogni di Sicilia

I got up, got ready, poured coffee, then cooked and baked all day, save for a run to Decò and the ortofrutta, to get ingredients for my last-minute idea to make an apple pie. That idea turned out disastrous, but the "pumpkin" pie is a reasonable facsimile of what it should be. I ended up using parchment paper to create a pie pan; it worked better for the butternut squash pie than for the apple. Mental note to bring a pie pan here! My oven mitt wrecked the nice top on this pie Flat, burnt on top, undercooked filling I roasted some vegetables, and decided to skip the yam chips, because I've been in the kitchen for 10 hours and it's almost time for dinner! ****** We got to Elena's and saw Fina and Giovanna there; they had to do the three-time refusal to join us for Thanksgiving dinner before finally saying yes! My contributions were hot when we arrived, but timing them for 8:00 pm and eating at 10 pm meant that I did a round or two of nuking. We ate in Nonno's ol...

Ah. Sore throat abated upon wake up! Joe and I had our coffee and breakfast at home, then had a plan to get pumpkins. We will take the car since, a) pumpkins are big and heavy; b) we will look stupid, walking in a small town, carrying pumpkins. It seemed Option B was in order. The Cleo was gone, Mariella's car was gone, and Vincenzo wasn't home; his car was gone. Oh well. Off to an ortofrutta or Lidl, whichever pumpkin showed up first. Yesterday, you could not swing a testa di mora vase without smashing a pumpkin. Today-- no sidewalk vendors, no pumpkins spilling onto the sidewalk from the ortofrutta, no 3-wheeled Ape Trucks hawking pumpkins. At Lidl, in fact, still no pumpkins -- except the ones labeled " Zucca Americana ".  The usual Sicilian pumpkins are a beautiful beige-y orange; large, squat, and fat. The "American" pumpkins are, I guess, pumpkin orange, as we all know it. Here, they are about 1.5x the size of Minnesota pie pumpkins. We put two Zucca A...

  I’m sitting in my own little parlor while they finish readying my room. I love getting spoiled here. I arrived pretty refreshed. My new best friends, Marty and Shelly (a RN), sat next to me on the plane. They’re from the Boston area, love going to Italy, have rescue dogs, and gifted me some Ambien after I told them prosecco was on board (and opened their splits for them). That was a great after-dinner combo. I popped one, and next thing I knew, we were touching ground. That was a much faster flight than MSP>JFK! I need this for every long flight. Now I just need my room ready. After I get there, I’m freshening up and taking a walk. The Rome weather is gorgeous! I want to scout out two places for dinner, which my body clock may call breakfast. One is right on the Tiber, on the island; the other is in the Sburra. But there’s a definite British Invasion—I’m still waiting on my room. I’m sick of all the waiting these past 24 hours. The walk revived me and reminded me why I love it...