Dear Italy....

Before I moved here, I thought this was information everybody had. But.... apparently not. As a good samaritan I feel duty-bound to share these truisms with my Abruzzesse brethren. Perhaps they were on vacation or sleeping when the news came in.


1- Sidewalks are a great little invention that provide a SEPARATE path for pedestrians. They are really handy when walking with strollers or for 90 year old ladies totting huge grocery bags between meals. You should really insist that the government put some in and stop using cars to control population explosions.

2 - 4 years old is too old for a bottle. They are not babies, they are children. Stop coddling!

3 - They will not kick your child out of school if she/he is not wearing Gucci or Burberry....even if that was a rule, they wouldn't enforce it because they are Italian.

4 "Mother" is not synonymous with the word "slave". After a certain point, say 25, she should not be cooking for you, cleaning your room and doing your laundry on a daily basis.....all the while she is watching your children!

5- You have to elect one activity: driving or parking. They cannot be done in the same place. It does not work.

6- Neither cookies nor Nutella are a nutritional breakfast.

7- Yes, Italian food is wonderful. But, and I know this may come as a surprise, they have food in other countries too. Try it sometime. (This goes for language, wine, clothing designers, and other cultural events).

8- Sometimes, and I can't believe I am saying this, rules are good. They are what help a 5 minute process, not turn into a 5 hour process. Now I know why you all drink so much coffee!

9- The internet works. Maybe we can use it to order food from other countries (see No. 7)

10 - Your children will not die if they are out in the cold for 30 seconds. This is Roseto, not Siberia.

11- Hours worked in a day is calculated by time actually producing, not drinking coffee, going home for a three hour lunch, napping, or talking with your friends in front of your store.

12- Olive oil is not a food group.

These are only the basics. But, we have to start somewhere.

Readers who have been here, done that, please feel free to add more lessons learned.

A Thanksgiving Murder

As any good American, this Thursday I will be putting on a big Thanksgiving dinner, or Giorno di Graziamento, as they call it in Italy. But, since turkeys are seldom, if ever bought whole, I put my order in early. However, now I am fraught with guilt because it turns out that this bird, located by my butcher on a nearby farm, is living and breathing happily as we speak. He will be murdered at my behest on Wednesday. I feel horrible that my little 8 kilo taquino (turkey) will be lifeless on my kitchen counter just 4 short days from now. I am even more petrified that this little guy won't fit in my tiny european oven and I'll have murdered my little feathered friend all for naught. I actually went so far as to request that he be put on a diet for his last week of his life. The butcher agreed, so I am now not only killing him but I am also starving him in his last week of life.  My brownie points are just racking up in heaven, aren't they.

I must admit that I am extactic that my little guy will be organic and fresh, not some frozen mass-farmed slab of flesh that we have come to expect in the US. No need to thaw this guy for 5 days. Luckily that will give me time to hunt down all the crazy American ingredients for our feast. To my surprise, I have already located sweet potatoes which was no easy feat in the land of "if its not Italian, its not edible". But, I am still on the lookout for cranberries and marshmallows. How do I even translate those to ask??? I have already resigned myself to making the marshmallows from scratch so I can make the sweet potato casserole, and I may just have to improvise and use other berries (Lampone) that come from Sweden instead of cranberries. They look and feel a lot different than American cranberries but they are very bitter and red, so they should be a decent counterfeit. And, I have all but given up in locating graham crackers, and  have decided that those little "digestive" crackers and some butter will have to do. "When in Rome", as the saying goes....

So, this Thanksgiving will be a lot of blood (literally) sweat and tears, all for the sake of cultural survival. After all, lets face the fact that Americans don't have too many things that are uniquely theirs. Although a couple other countries do celebrate a day of "thanksgiving" none do it quite like us. We not only reflect on the things for which we are thankful, but we recall our history and how we began life here in the U.S.....(before all the indigenous murders started) and we do what we do best...pig out, drink, and watch football. Yeah! And, hopefully in the midst of all the mass-calorie consumption I can expose my daughter to her American roots.

Breaking for Booze

There is one beautiful thing about living here in Italy that I just can't get over. I am the first to criticize that you can't get a stiff drink here and a pre-dinner cocktail is non-existant. But, I love that one could just be cruising around town and decide to stop for a glass of prosecco (italian version of Champagne). Its always in stock at any bar/cafe and there is always a bottle open and ready to serve you a glass. In the states, even though we drink a lot heavier than Italians, we are frowned upon if we take time out of our day - whether we are running errands, picking up kids, in transport from one appointment to the next - if we stop and have a drink by ourselves. (With the noted exception of hotel and airport lobbies). It would be a sign of an alcoholic according to our standards. But here, to opt for a glass of wine or champaign or a coffee with a little sambuca in it is not anything strange, even at 11 AM. Plus the best part of it is that you get free snacks whenever you order a non-coffee drink. So, my 3 Euro glass of wine really is great bang for your buck considering the procuitto, olive tapanade, cheese slices, etc. that comes with it. And, as if a solitary glass of prosecco in the broad day light wasn't enough, if you are lucky enough to have time for a second glass, they never bring out the same snacks twice. Its very systematic. You always get a different mix of snacks (which are put together daily) with a new drink. These are truly the makings of a great country. Now if only I could figure out when these people get any work done? 

But, and there always is a but isn't there.....what's the deal with never being allowed to get drunk, or even a buzz for that matter. I am sure most British, Irish, Australians Canadian, American, and many drinking cultures around the world would agree that from time to time you just need to have a few.....and sometimes a few more! Always having food shoved down your face makes it impossible to refuse, especially when its prepared by an italian its placed right in front of you for free. And, people don't just hang out in bars and get their drink on. A huge meal is never more than an hour away or an hour behind you making it impossible to fill your belly with truth serum. I SOOOOO miss those days of meeting my girlfriends for happy hour at a place that does NOT allow children or strollers. I miss heading out for brunch on a Sunday and not returning till 7 PM, buzzed! Yes folks, a whole day revolved around drinking, eating and then drinking some more. Am I wrong for wanting to abuse my liver from time to time? Don't people know that my sanity depends on those breaks. 

Cheers! 

Fall Foliage on All-Saints Day

Today I am driving through Molise, which is a region of Italy about an hour south of Rome, Its capital is Campobasso, a town of about 65,000 inhabitants. Much like Abruzzo this is not one of the most populous regions; rather it is sprinkled with many small towns nestled on cliffs thousands of feet above the Autostrada. As I drive down a curvy two lane road, I am reminded how much natural beauty covers this country. Almost instantaneously we slipped from summer into a breathtaking fall season. Being from California, I have seldom experienced such a distinct passage of the seasons and I say with conviction that transitioning from summer into fall is the most drastic, both emotionally and environmentally. I use the word emotionally because it is a palatable feeling how the bustle of summer fades quietly into the solitude of winter. No more backyard BBQs, crowded beaches, chaotic day-long playdates with screaming kids, or traffic-jammed summer road trips. And, although October is still a ways from Christmas, I am already thinking about passing the dark hours indoors with my family or a good book. This time of year the meals I prepare are more elaborate and calorie rich, and the converations I have are with dear friends about issues that need time. The house constantly smells of cider, or hot chocolate and I only tolerate the softest clothes to warm my body from the cold air lurking outside. In short, my state of mind changes and I am a different person in November than I was in August. 

Like me, the land around me is in transformation. Just last week my drive to Teramo did not reveal a glimpse of snow on the peaks of Gran Sasso National Park, our local mountain range. And now the mountains appear to be full of snow, taunting me to shape up and hit the slopes. It was only a matter of days ago that the trees were full and green, now they turn golden before my eyes. The leaves give way with the smallest hint of a breeze and they are beginning to scuttle along the sidewalks keeping my company as I do my grocery shopping. Much to my surprise, even the grapevines turn yellow, orange and red - all simultaneously. 

In Molise, the trees are more akin to the East Coast of the U.S., with a lot of Oaks and other trees that are familiar to me. The peaks of the hills are exposed rock and steep, much different than the rolling green hills that make up Abruzzo. I surmise that the climate here is less humid than Abruzzo and therefore there is much less agriculture breaking up the natural landscape. I will say that the terrain reminds me more of the U.S. than Abruzzo, but its still a far cry from California. 

Today, All-Saints Day in Italy, is a day reserved for remembering and visiting the dead. In fact, the cemeteries are full and every tomb, even those dating back to the 1800s seem to have fresh flowers placed on them. It was a perfect day to get out of the ordinary routine and go out simply to observe and reflect. This season is one that naturally lends itself to that and I am thankful that I can ponder life and death in such a beautiful setting.