On Friday, Ryan, Elizabeth and I took off for Paris. Becca, my friend in Greece, was supposed to meet us there, but got hit by a moped earlier in the week (yikes. Kudos to you, Becca). It was quite the exhausting time. Our flight left at 750 pm from Milan Bergamo. This entails: getting on the 240 train to Milan, transferring in Brescia, waiting for a train to Bergamo from Brescia, taking a bus to the Bergamo airport. We then waited for two hours, it was great. We got on our flight (Ryanair), which flies to Paris Beauvis, and then took a bus to a random spot in actual Paris. When we finally got to Paris, it was about 11. 8 Hours of traveling! Elizabeth ate a moldy sandwich along the way, and my water bottle spilled all over my clothes, which took 2 days to dry. Alas.
Once we arrived, we were greeted by the far off tip of the Eiffel Tower, glimmering as it does for 10 minutes every hour at dark. What a sight J We scrambled around looking for a subway to take us to our hostel--the subway in Paris is awesome, and takes you within 2 blocks of literally anything in the city centre! We bought a carnet, which is 10 tickets for the price of 8 or something. The subway is awesome and modern and smells weird J We arrived at our hostel (which was a 1 star hotel, but really theyre the same thing). It was next to a McDonalds. The hostel folks spoke no English, but plenty of French, and it took some time to communicate that we had a reservation, and we had money to pay, and please, give us our key, we’re tired. Eventually the hotel owner’s wife told us she spoke Italian, which was a godsend. We got into our room, which was a full bed and a cot, for the 3 of us. We had two balconies! I hit the sack (and forgot to pack pajamas), and Elizabeth and Ryan went out to explore and grab food--Paris, unlike Verona, does not close down after dark.
The next morning we woke up bright and early, with the intention of taking a free tour service around Paris (you tip at the end). We grabbed coffee and breakfast beforehand. Our tour guide was an adorable Parisian who spoke British (Maybe Scottish) English, but breaking out some beautiful French for proper pronunciations. She took us all over town--see the pictures! She had all sorts of interesting stories, and was clearly an internet nerd, so we took quite a liking to each other. Then her phone got stolen (she’d informed us all about scams on the right bank--sign a petition in French that really says give me 10 dollars, asking if you speak English and never leaving you alone, etc etc), and that took a bit of a down turn. Because we only had 2 full days in Paris, we immediately went to the Lourve after the tour. It was huge (I also forgot my ticket and had some guy try to sell it back to me)! Filled with so much art! But most of it sucked :P We walked past the Mona Lisa several times, and there were constantly people around in, taking pictures, with flash. This was incredibly disappointing. We also saw a few other famous things--Venus de Milo and the code of Hammurabi, being the most recognizable. Some of the works were quite beautiful though.
After this long stretch of walking, we decided to take a break, and went for a snack at a little pastry shop. I got a large loaf of cheesey bread (for breakfast the next day) and a chocolate muffin. Elizabeth got her crème Brule, and Ryan got a cookie. We set off on the subway for the Eiffel tower, and passed a dozen men selling the same Eiffel tower key chains (6 for a euro!). After standing in line for a half hour (the half hour before it closed, or so we thought), we got our tickets (mine just to the second floor, as Im such a baby about heights). Ryan and Elizabeth decided to do the same, since the wait for the summit was very long. We took a rather rickety elevator (which slanted, and so didn’t go straight up, which was really odd), and within minutes the tower started sparkling--it was dazzling. We had a great view of the city, but it was so dark it was hard to see much! Also I was busy overcoming phobias.
At the end of this long day (and photo shoot), we settled for dinner a nearby restaurant, where a game was going on. Food is expensive in Paris, head’s up everyone. I wasn’t too hungry, and just had an appetizer of grilled mushrooms, and split an apple tart with ryan. Finally, we made the trip home, and passed out after showering.
Day 3 was the final day! Ryan and I meant to go to Versailles, but there was too much left to see in the city centre. Elizabeth went off shopping! Ryan and I grabbed breakfast at a cute pastry shop (I had a crème coffee, which was fine), and headed off to Notre Dame--almost at the same time we’d been there the day before! Notre Dame was beautiful (and means Our Lady), but I’m starting to get worn down by all these famous churches. There was mass going on, which was quite beautiful, and the first I’ve ever seen! It’s so odd to think about the amount of history that’s crammed into a still living space--there’re coat racks next to tombs of popes. After Notre Dame (and successive photo shoots), Ryan and I walked the Seine river, picking up unique gifts for our lovely friends.
Finally we ended up at the Orsay--the second most famous museum in Paris. It contained more contemporary art, from the French masters like Monet, Van Gogh (okay, not French) Renior, etc. Ryan and I both really enjoyed it, more so than the Lourve. There’s much less art, but the ones that are there each stun you. We saw so many famous paintings. I love impressionism though, I may be biased. After such a great time there, I wanted to hit the Orangerie (where Napoleon’s orange trees used to grow, but is now the home of more Monets, Reniors, etc), but Ryan was arted out, and so we headed to Napoleon’s Tomb, which is in the same sight as a WW2 museum. It was absolutely giant for such a tiny man ;) Ryan went into the WW2 Museum while I enjoyed (more) coffee, and the attentions of an odd waiter. Lots of military folk filtered in and out: veterans, current military, and tourists all mingled. After strolling the museum a bit, Ryan and I were full of American spirit. It’s hard not to feel that way over here. Separated from your own country, you only remember its greatness, especially when you bring up our contributions to WW2. You realize every country has its flaws and corruption. And even in Paris, we were not discriminated against for being Americans who spoke no French. They were actually quite nice and helpful, and one waiter even commented that when he went to California, he adored the American spirit of solving your own problems.
After that rousing display of patriotism…Ryan and I went to the Orangerie, and took in more fantastic Picassos, Monets, Renoirs, and more, along with two rooms filled with nothing but wall-length Monet’s of water lilies. Watch the video I put up! Finally, we went to the arch d’Triumphe. This is located in the centre of the city’s most dangerous roundabout, which prevents people from running to it. Rather, there’s stairs that go to an underground tunnel, leading to the Arch--where you have to pay just to be under it. Not realizing there was a student discount (did I mention they had student discounts for EU student residents--that Visa really paid off. We only paid full price at the Lourve, and then because we were in a hurry), we refused to pay, and just took pictures in front of it. We then took off Montemarte, the non historical part of Paris where people hang out--also the red light district! Sex stores everywhere, and quite disgusting, to be perfectly honest. Lots of people taking photos in front of the Moulin Rouge, and plenty of folks there during Valentine’s Day weekend (we picked a great time to go…) ready to pay 80 euro each to get in. We ended our final day in a very cute French restaurant with a pay toilet near our hostel in lieu of Chinese food or “Paris Fried Chicken” (both of which were SERIOUSLY tempting considering the lack of each here, and the high prices). It was up there on best meals I’ve ever eaten. Amazing duck confit that fell apart, like a mix of roast beef and turkey. Crème brulee, cheese plates, and a waiter that spoke English. With this very satisfying ending, we went to bed, and woke at 400 to go home (our whole flight group was a bunch of zombies wandering in a large group, waiting for the plane terminal, for security, for checkin, for everything…).
A beautiful, fantastic, and modern city, that I could visit over and over again.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Mi manchi ( I miss you!)
Things I miss:
-Dogs that bark
-Movie theatres
-Peanut butter
-Giant grocery stores with everything you could possibly want
-CLOTHES DRYERS!!
-Textbooks (or rather, intellectual stimulation)
-Theatre theatre theatre
-BBQ pulled pork.
-Boys that respect personal space
-Being carded at stores, and more importantly, not having to watch 13 year olds smoke.
-the US dollar (these Euros look flamboyent).
-Animal rights activists (theres something really sick about dogs wearing nicer coats than I am, being walked by someone in a fur coat)
-Dogs that bark
-Movie theatres
-Peanut butter
-Giant grocery stores with everything you could possibly want
-CLOTHES DRYERS!!
-Textbooks (or rather, intellectual stimulation)
-Theatre theatre theatre
-BBQ pulled pork.
-Boys that respect personal space
-Being carded at stores, and more importantly, not having to watch 13 year olds smoke.
-the US dollar (these Euros look flamboyent).
-Animal rights activists (theres something really sick about dogs wearing nicer coats than I am, being walked by someone in a fur coat)
Cibo, continuata
-Panna cotta (with blueberries---super creamy, yet flanlike)
-More tiramisu (much better this time, and with tons of expresso)
-Moccacino (the closest thing Ive seen to a mocha, keeping in mind that a Moka is a home expresso pot), but really every kind of coffee concoction known to the Italians at this point. Going home to Americanos sounds awful.
-I think Claudio got us duck in a restaurant--ack!
-Duck confit (PARIS!)
-Crossiants (so buttery and flaky)
-Pan au chocolat, with Parisian (inferior) expresso, wine is also rather inferior there ;)
-Yogurt with rice (sort of like rice pudding, but tasty!)
-Anchovies (no regrets)
-stuffed tomatoes
-Real, natural licorice, which tastes like you licked a shoe.
-Nutella crepes--like melty chocolate cookies, but oh so much better.
-Crepe a formaggio
-More tiramisu (much better this time, and with tons of expresso)
-Moccacino (the closest thing Ive seen to a mocha, keeping in mind that a Moka is a home expresso pot), but really every kind of coffee concoction known to the Italians at this point. Going home to Americanos sounds awful.
-I think Claudio got us duck in a restaurant--ack!
-Duck confit (PARIS!)
-Crossiants (so buttery and flaky)
-Pan au chocolat, with Parisian (inferior) expresso, wine is also rather inferior there ;)
-Yogurt with rice (sort of like rice pudding, but tasty!)
-Anchovies (no regrets)
-stuffed tomatoes
-Real, natural licorice, which tastes like you licked a shoe.
-Nutella crepes--like melty chocolate cookies, but oh so much better.
-Crepe a formaggio
Woot woot That’s the sound of the police
There’s two types of police in Italy: The Polizia Locale (Local Police) and the Carabineri (Federal Police). The Local Police are great, friendly people: they give you directions, they help you when your car breaks down, they let you use their police station toilet when the bathroom is closed and you’re stuck in a train station for 6 hours (see: Milan).
The Polizia Locale have silly, bright yellow on their uniforms, and ride motorcycles and vespas and bicycles, and walk around town together having friendly chats (and getting gelato and coffee on night patrol--hah!) The Carabineri are terrifying. They wear camo, they have guns. They have big trucks and vans and jeeps. You do not talk to them. They are pretty much the Italian military.
The Polizia Locale have silly, bright yellow on their uniforms, and ride motorcycles and vespas and bicycles, and walk around town together having friendly chats (and getting gelato and coffee on night patrol--hah!) The Carabineri are terrifying. They wear camo, they have guns. They have big trucks and vans and jeeps. You do not talk to them. They are pretty much the Italian military.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Bow bow
Dogs in Italy-Bow Bow
Italians love their dogs. Everyone has one--probably 1/10 people walking has a dog with them. They go everywhere with them: to the electronics store, the main piazza as they stroll, the artisan deli, the hair salon, the grocery store (where they’re tied up on a rail in the front of a store). I’ve seen one place where you couldn’t bring a dog, Vodafone internet, and even they had a sign saying “We’re sorry, your dog friend can’t come with you” (I’ll snap a picture if I remember). No one gives people crap for having a dog with them, or bringing them inside (including this one dog that was sitting in the grocery and yodeling as he waited for his mom to finish shopping).
These dogs are incredibly well trained--occasionally Natalie and I will hear a dog bark, and it’s a big event. They walk at their master’s feet, not ahead of them. They quietly wait for their master at the front of the store, extremely docile. While their master is in the store, they walk around unleashed, often leaving the store to go sniff things, and never minding any human they see on the street (which terrifies me, as I see all these stray dogs with collars and run up, trying to see if they‘re lost, and they don‘t even look at me and eventually wander back to their mom). When they see people, they don’t rush up to them or pull on their leash, or have to sniff every tree, or freak out when they see another dog. And no one pets the dogs. This is extremely disconcerting to a certain girl who squeals at the site of every dog. A very young puppy, still being trained, ran up to us in the Milan train station, and suddenly 6 of us converged on it, petting it, cooing, being happy to act normal with a dog. This only occurred because it was so young.
The people aren’t quite as well trained as their dogs. The dogs can pee anywhere (including, say, an important statue of the founder of a city), and you have to keep your head down when you walk to watch out for packages. They dress their dogs in the most ridiculous clothes (I love Italy shirt? Sure! Windbreaker with an ironic fur collar? WHY NOT!). Claudio’s dog is a Chihuahua that generally has TWO LAYERS of clothes on, like a person would. Here, people really do treat their pets like children.
Italians love their dogs. Everyone has one--probably 1/10 people walking has a dog with them. They go everywhere with them: to the electronics store, the main piazza as they stroll, the artisan deli, the hair salon, the grocery store (where they’re tied up on a rail in the front of a store). I’ve seen one place where you couldn’t bring a dog, Vodafone internet, and even they had a sign saying “We’re sorry, your dog friend can’t come with you” (I’ll snap a picture if I remember). No one gives people crap for having a dog with them, or bringing them inside (including this one dog that was sitting in the grocery and yodeling as he waited for his mom to finish shopping).
These dogs are incredibly well trained--occasionally Natalie and I will hear a dog bark, and it’s a big event. They walk at their master’s feet, not ahead of them. They quietly wait for their master at the front of the store, extremely docile. While their master is in the store, they walk around unleashed, often leaving the store to go sniff things, and never minding any human they see on the street (which terrifies me, as I see all these stray dogs with collars and run up, trying to see if they‘re lost, and they don‘t even look at me and eventually wander back to their mom). When they see people, they don’t rush up to them or pull on their leash, or have to sniff every tree, or freak out when they see another dog. And no one pets the dogs. This is extremely disconcerting to a certain girl who squeals at the site of every dog. A very young puppy, still being trained, ran up to us in the Milan train station, and suddenly 6 of us converged on it, petting it, cooing, being happy to act normal with a dog. This only occurred because it was so young.
The people aren’t quite as well trained as their dogs. The dogs can pee anywhere (including, say, an important statue of the founder of a city), and you have to keep your head down when you walk to watch out for packages. They dress their dogs in the most ridiculous clothes (I love Italy shirt? Sure! Windbreaker with an ironic fur collar? WHY NOT!). Claudio’s dog is a Chihuahua that generally has TWO LAYERS of clothes on, like a person would. Here, people really do treat their pets like children.
Bologna e' bella
Bologna
After the disaster that was Milan, Natalie and I decided to take a smaller day trip to Bologna for the weekend instead of go on a larger trip. We took a midmorning Regional Veloce (Fast Regional) train to Bologna, and arrived in a beautiful, bustling city where it was 12 degrees Celsius (plenty warm!). So with the sun shining, we began to explore.
Bologna is not a tourist city. It’s home to the first European university (which was quite lovely, and redbrick, and has 5 museums dedicated to various sciences. We went into the biology one, and got to see tons and tons of stuffed animals), and some towers, and so on, but it’s most just Italians being Italians. It was extremely refreshing not to be bogged by tourist traps and postcard stands. The Two Towers are the symbol of the city, and sadly not a reference to LOTR. They’re both starting to lean over pretty bad as their foundations shift. There’s also a pretty baller fountain (will post Photos…), and a piazza with a beautiful yet simple (by Renissance standards) basillica. Fun fact: All of these things are free. After 6 bucks per museum in every other city, Bologna is a wallet’s godsend.
Bologna is instead a gastronomic haven. Tuscany is still the head of food in Italy, but Emilia-Romagna, the region where Bologna is located, is a decent, cheap, tourist-free solution. Our lunch was at a pizza place with a huge line, named, aptly, the Two Towers. It was very similar to Antonios, except that it was cheaper, and the slices were bigger, and the line was 20 people deep. Oh, and the pizza was fantastic. It was almost like American pizza in its greasyness, but still no sauce. I had proscuitto and fungi, and Natalie ditched the fungi. It was absolutely the best pizza I had in Italy, and totally worth it. We quickly walked over to a gelato place, and had our fill.
We then took off to see the sites. Before lunch we’d actually seen a random open air market, of 100s of stands, filled with clothes and jewelry and purses and shoes and various other crap, including dentistry tools, that must have “fallen off the truck”, it was so cheap. I bought a pair of socks J We’d also passed a beautiful park with some turtle and mermaid statues J After lunch, we actually ran into the two towers accidently on the way to gelato. Cross one off the list. We explored Piazza Maggiore as well (home of various other sites) and the University and its museum. We also stumbled across a few delis, where I insisted on buying cheese (Parmesano-Reggiano!), and an English bookstore, where we took safe haven and savored knowing a language fluently almost as much as the food. We both bought some English novels, since we burned through the ones we brought. It was extremely comforting to have a bit of Americana again.
Once we had our fill, we returned to a wiki-recommended restaurant close to the train station named Trattoria Tony. We decided to try the regional specialities: Pasta, and Bollito Misto (Mixed Boiled *Meat*). Natalie ordered Taglietelli al Ragu, which “she really liked”. I had the Ricotta Tortelloni with Butter and Sage Sauce. It was literally the best pasta of my life. I could have eaten it forever. It was creamy yet textured, and extremely flavorful. Bollito Misto is traditionally serve with potato puree (mashed potatoes) and green salsa(salsa meaning sauce, not chunky tomatoes). So once we finished our pasta, our waiter brought us this green mush and some spoons. We had no idea what to do with it. We both tried it on our bread, and it was crazy vinegary. Eventually, we realized this was the green salsa, which was way denser than either of us had imagined. The waiter brought us the plate of boiled beef, pork, and tongue. It tasted similar to pot roast, but was extremely fatty. Also, no one should ever eat tongue. Tongue should never taste a fellow tongue. It just tastes wrong, like a weird sausage. After such a fantastic meal, Natalie and I left for the train station, and agreed that Bologna was pretty boss.
After the disaster that was Milan, Natalie and I decided to take a smaller day trip to Bologna for the weekend instead of go on a larger trip. We took a midmorning Regional Veloce (Fast Regional) train to Bologna, and arrived in a beautiful, bustling city where it was 12 degrees Celsius (plenty warm!). So with the sun shining, we began to explore.
Bologna is not a tourist city. It’s home to the first European university (which was quite lovely, and redbrick, and has 5 museums dedicated to various sciences. We went into the biology one, and got to see tons and tons of stuffed animals), and some towers, and so on, but it’s most just Italians being Italians. It was extremely refreshing not to be bogged by tourist traps and postcard stands. The Two Towers are the symbol of the city, and sadly not a reference to LOTR. They’re both starting to lean over pretty bad as their foundations shift. There’s also a pretty baller fountain (will post Photos…), and a piazza with a beautiful yet simple (by Renissance standards) basillica. Fun fact: All of these things are free. After 6 bucks per museum in every other city, Bologna is a wallet’s godsend.
Bologna is instead a gastronomic haven. Tuscany is still the head of food in Italy, but Emilia-Romagna, the region where Bologna is located, is a decent, cheap, tourist-free solution. Our lunch was at a pizza place with a huge line, named, aptly, the Two Towers. It was very similar to Antonios, except that it was cheaper, and the slices were bigger, and the line was 20 people deep. Oh, and the pizza was fantastic. It was almost like American pizza in its greasyness, but still no sauce. I had proscuitto and fungi, and Natalie ditched the fungi. It was absolutely the best pizza I had in Italy, and totally worth it. We quickly walked over to a gelato place, and had our fill.
We then took off to see the sites. Before lunch we’d actually seen a random open air market, of 100s of stands, filled with clothes and jewelry and purses and shoes and various other crap, including dentistry tools, that must have “fallen off the truck”, it was so cheap. I bought a pair of socks J We’d also passed a beautiful park with some turtle and mermaid statues J After lunch, we actually ran into the two towers accidently on the way to gelato. Cross one off the list. We explored Piazza Maggiore as well (home of various other sites) and the University and its museum. We also stumbled across a few delis, where I insisted on buying cheese (Parmesano-Reggiano!), and an English bookstore, where we took safe haven and savored knowing a language fluently almost as much as the food. We both bought some English novels, since we burned through the ones we brought. It was extremely comforting to have a bit of Americana again.
Once we had our fill, we returned to a wiki-recommended restaurant close to the train station named Trattoria Tony. We decided to try the regional specialities: Pasta, and Bollito Misto (Mixed Boiled *Meat*). Natalie ordered Taglietelli al Ragu, which “she really liked”. I had the Ricotta Tortelloni with Butter and Sage Sauce. It was literally the best pasta of my life. I could have eaten it forever. It was creamy yet textured, and extremely flavorful. Bollito Misto is traditionally serve with potato puree (mashed potatoes) and green salsa(salsa meaning sauce, not chunky tomatoes). So once we finished our pasta, our waiter brought us this green mush and some spoons. We had no idea what to do with it. We both tried it on our bread, and it was crazy vinegary. Eventually, we realized this was the green salsa, which was way denser than either of us had imagined. The waiter brought us the plate of boiled beef, pork, and tongue. It tasted similar to pot roast, but was extremely fatty. Also, no one should ever eat tongue. Tongue should never taste a fellow tongue. It just tastes wrong, like a weird sausage. After such a fantastic meal, Natalie and I left for the train station, and agreed that Bologna was pretty boss.
Saldi saldi saldi
Saldi is an event in Italy for the entirety of January, and the first week of February. Stores are trying to clear out their winter stock, so they put everything on half price. This results in a huge burst of shopping, because even stores without a “winter stock” often participate in Saldi. Mostly clothing and shoe stores, but also things like kitchen stores. It’s fantastic for a place where the tiniest thing costs 10 euros.
We went to the mall on Friday (a half hour bus ride), and shopped to our hearts content (including getting some baller chocolate salami (which is sort of like chocolate cake with little white cake bits in it, but looks exactly like salami, and I will never understand it), and some 8 euro jeans. The high life.
We went to the mall on Friday (a half hour bus ride), and shopped to our hearts content (including getting some baller chocolate salami (which is sort of like chocolate cake with little white cake bits in it, but looks exactly like salami, and I will never understand it), and some 8 euro jeans. The high life.
Cibo cibo delicioso
Delicious Foods
-Lasagna (Pesto and Regular--the ragu you’re throwing on there does not cut it)
-Risotto(Fungi and Pumpkin, and Plain). Fun fact: Risotto with no flavoring tastes like rice in starch sauce. It is almost unbearable.
-Cannolo (YUM!)
-Negretti(Chocolate covered marshmellow crème) From a random street market
-Gelato (Chocolate, Cannoli, Pistachio, Caramel, and Bacio-Chocolate Hazelnut, as of late)
-Pesto (from a yogurt cup at the store, but amazing)
-Foccacia-aka pizza with a thicker, fluffier crust sans cheese and tomatos, made by my cooking teacher
-Pizza--thinner crust, not much sauce if any. It takes some getting used to. They put the most ridiculous things on it. “Raggio Di Sole” (Ray of Sun) had an egg on it. Some doesn’t have any cheese at all: One pizza place makes some crust, and just throws toppings on there. You have to manuever to keep them in one spot
-Biscotti (Tastes more like a hard cookie like chips ahoy over the brittle things at home)
-Wine Wine Wine--Too many varieties to count, and easily an entry in itself. Be proud, mom.
-Brioches and pastries-Brioches filled with Nutella have quickly become my favorite food. I had one in Florence that literally made me want to sit and eat there for the rest of the day
-Gnocchi--Of the hook potato pasta, shaped like dumplings. Super rich
-Bruschetta--By the lovely Ted and Erica
-Orange Juice-Which is in fact, Red juice, because it comes from Blood Oranges. It is sickeningly sweet, and not very acidic. Sort of like a grapefruit.
Coffee coffee coffee-In every shape. How these people sip their expresso, I’ll never know. I liken it to my Dad being able to sip whisky.
Pasta every way and every shape, the best being in Bologna--Tortelloni with ricotta, and butter/sage sauce.
-Lasagna (Pesto and Regular--the ragu you’re throwing on there does not cut it)
-Risotto(Fungi and Pumpkin, and Plain). Fun fact: Risotto with no flavoring tastes like rice in starch sauce. It is almost unbearable.
-Cannolo (YUM!)
-Negretti(Chocolate covered marshmellow crème) From a random street market
-Gelato (Chocolate, Cannoli, Pistachio, Caramel, and Bacio-Chocolate Hazelnut, as of late)
-Pesto (from a yogurt cup at the store, but amazing)
-Foccacia-aka pizza with a thicker, fluffier crust sans cheese and tomatos, made by my cooking teacher
-Pizza--thinner crust, not much sauce if any. It takes some getting used to. They put the most ridiculous things on it. “Raggio Di Sole” (Ray of Sun) had an egg on it. Some doesn’t have any cheese at all: One pizza place makes some crust, and just throws toppings on there. You have to manuever to keep them in one spot
-Biscotti (Tastes more like a hard cookie like chips ahoy over the brittle things at home)
-Wine Wine Wine--Too many varieties to count, and easily an entry in itself. Be proud, mom.
-Brioches and pastries-Brioches filled with Nutella have quickly become my favorite food. I had one in Florence that literally made me want to sit and eat there for the rest of the day
-Gnocchi--Of the hook potato pasta, shaped like dumplings. Super rich
-Bruschetta--By the lovely Ted and Erica
-Orange Juice-Which is in fact, Red juice, because it comes from Blood Oranges. It is sickeningly sweet, and not very acidic. Sort of like a grapefruit.
Coffee coffee coffee-In every shape. How these people sip their expresso, I’ll never know. I liken it to my Dad being able to sip whisky.
Pasta every way and every shape, the best being in Bologna--Tortelloni with ricotta, and butter/sage sauce.
People are people, no matter where you go: Strange Italians
As much as people try to paint each country differently, no matter where you go, people are still people. Sure, customs and norms might be different, but underneath it all our DNA is the same, and some behavior will always manifest itself. For example:
Teenagers here are loud as balls and just as annoying. They loiter all over the beautiful parks, smoking plenty (including outside high school), and harassing older people (poking people on the bus and whatever). People will always complain about some subculture of youth, but the fact is, we’re obnoxious and think we’re cool for it. It’s not the ghetto culture or the guido culture, it’s people with underdeveloped brains acting less mature than adults.
Public drunkeness? Sure, occasionally. Considering how beloved wine is here, you’d expect more alcoholism (or maybe less, I’m not sure). Drunk people flock to the bus system just as frequently as at home.
Public Urination is actually a wild card: I’m seen more people peeing in the open in 2 weeks than in my entire life combined. Perhaps they don’t have penalties for it, but it’s still disgusting.
Teenagers here are loud as balls and just as annoying. They loiter all over the beautiful parks, smoking plenty (including outside high school), and harassing older people (poking people on the bus and whatever). People will always complain about some subculture of youth, but the fact is, we’re obnoxious and think we’re cool for it. It’s not the ghetto culture or the guido culture, it’s people with underdeveloped brains acting less mature than adults.
Public drunkeness? Sure, occasionally. Considering how beloved wine is here, you’d expect more alcoholism (or maybe less, I’m not sure). Drunk people flock to the bus system just as frequently as at home.
Public Urination is actually a wild card: I’m seen more people peeing in the open in 2 weeks than in my entire life combined. Perhaps they don’t have penalties for it, but it’s still disgusting.
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