Italia

I just got back from pranzo at the circolo (I know, I’m spending my whole life over there!). Beatrice’s English has really improven since we started singing “Miss Sue From Alabama” together (remember that hand clap rhyme?). She also knows one chorus of “We Wish You A Merry Christmas”, which is absolutely hilarious to listen to.

To give you an idea of a low-key pranzo, here’s what we had for lunch today (always served separately in courses):

Bresaolo with Parmesan and olio
“Lasagne” which was more like what we would call fettucine with red sauce
Really thin breaded & fried chicken tenders with lemon
Asparagus with parmesan and olio
Formaggio
And apples (that Carmela, Bea, and I picked up at the farm yesterday) for dessert

Most people drank wine or vino-con-acqua with lunch, but a couple of the kids (who came down from the school upstairs) had Coca-Cola (good luck finding Pepsi anywhere around here!).

Don Matteo, Sinio’s priest, ate with us today (well, I got the impression that he eats there a lot, it was me that was the newcomer). Don Matteo is a little hard of hearing, so communicating with him is un po dificile. I tried to explain to him that I only know the responses to Mass in English, and attempted to ask him if there was a book that had the responses in it that I could borrow. I don’t think he quite understood me because he started reciting the Our Father in Latin…

Luckily, Giuseppe came home shortly afterwards and translated for me. They got out a book and tried to figure out which prayers I’d need to have for mass. This is where it got really interesting, because obviously some of the people at the table hadn’t been to mass in a long time and couldn’t quite remember how the prayers went. But, of course, they didn’t want to look bad in front of Don Matteo so they made it up as they went along.

Well, when the one person who had been to church argued that what the others were saying was wrong…mama mia! I don’t know how to describe this except to paint the picture for you: Half of the table was reciting the Padre Nostro to me (extra-slowly and extra-loudly in the hopes I would be able to understand what they were saying), while the rest of them were arguing about which prayers they use in everyday mass and screaming at each other across the table. During this whole exchange, Don Matteo was mumbling something (mostly to himself, because no one ever really listens to him). At the same time, Bea was trying to teach me a new card game, but I wasn’t paying a whit of attention to her, because I was trying to to listen to Don Matteo and show some respect for the priest — something that no one else seemed to be doing.

It was absolutely ludicrous, and yet, we were all communicating with each other– at the same time.

Most meals at the circolo have that same feeling of being just a-little-bit-out-of-control. But that’s part of what makes them so fun!

P.S. Bea is short for Beatrice and is pronounced Bay-ah, and not Bee. Likewise, it’s Bay-ah-tree-chay and not Bee-a- triss (like my former car).

I wish I had brought my camera to work this morning. On the way home it was raining heavily (it has been for the past few days now). In one family’s cortille they had set up all the spare jars and cups they had to catch rain. And they were all full! It was the most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen; and something that really illustrates the character of the Piemontese.

Wow, today was another wonderful day here in Piemonte. I slept in (until 7:45AM) and didn’t even feel guilty because EVERYONE gets to work late and nobody cares. To make things even better, I got to take a hot shower (because Giacomo e Denise sono en Verona ‘sta settimana, so I don’t have to share the water with anyone). And then during the two hour trek to Grinzane Cavour, the sun was coming up over the (snow-capped) Alps; it was absolutely beautiful–just like in the beginning of The Sound of Music–so I found it appropriate to belt out “Climb Every Mountain” the whole way there.

I thought I would be clever and take a shortcut through a vineyard to make up for the time I’d spent sleeping in–it turns out that wasn’t such a clever idea afterall. It hailed yesterday and rained last night, so the entire vineyard (which happens to be on the side of a steep mountain) was a mudslide. Porca miseria. All I have to say is, thank god there are poles holding up the wires that train the grape vines, or I would have been on my butt sledding down the mountain in mud. As it was, I was absolutely filthy when I got to the top, and the amount of time saved by taking the short cut was spent cleaning the mud off my pants, socks, and shoes. Another well-learned lesson…

At work today I chopped up a whole bunch of rabbit livers for ragu (rabbit livers are preferable to chicken livers because of their quality and flavor, but they’re much more expensive). I also learned how to make ravioli from scratch, cleaned a whole bunch of mache (lettuce of choice in this area), and tasted the local cheese and wine we served to the Truffle Association for lunch.

Speaking of truffles, did I tell you I met my first truffle dog yesterday? Carmela, Giuseppe, and Beatrice invited me over for pizza last night and afterwards I got the grand tour of their house and farm–including a formal introduction to Bobby (pron. Boe-bee), their truffle dog. After meeting these people’s dogs, I can honestly say that Minnie Mae would not survive here. Italian dogs, at least the ones I’ve met so far, are wiry and viscious. (Though I suppose if they bring in thousands of euros’ worth of fungus every year perhaps they’re worth it). But there are two things that the Piemontese don’t do: they don’t tell their dogs to stop barking, and they certainly don’t cuddle up with them at night. These dogs are domesticated in the sense that they live close to people, but that’s as far as the domestication goes; they’re still very much wild animals.

It cracks me up how openly curious the Piemontese are. If they see you coming down the street, they’ll walk right out into the middle of the road and stare at you until they’ve figured out who you are. I was doing a little pulizzia (–sp?; cleaning) when I noticed Gigi my friend and our furniture maker pull up in the piazza. They went into the circolo and a few minutes later Gigi came out to smoke a cigarette. But the way he was smoking it was so typical of these people. Instead of standing outside the circolo door, he walked right into the center of the piazza so he could see exactly was was going on in Sinio. Our castello is right on the piazza, so I could hardly not notice him standing there. I stuck my head out the window and yelled a friendly “Ciao!” and they invited me to join them for dinner at the circolo (I know, “Dinner at the circolo again!?” you’re thinking. I’m telling you, the circolo is The (and the only) place to be and to be seen). I acceptend and 12 of us had a lovely dinner together–accompanied by lots of homemade wine and, of course, followed by the obligatory limoncello and caffe.

Bea (5) taught me two dances after our dinner. One of them involved lots of hip circling and military salutes and the other vaguely resembled Riverdance. Unfortunately (for my pride), she insisted that I learn in front of the entire circolo (which, at that point, was busting at the seams with 80 year olds playing cards and drinking strange digestivos). I have a feeling my reputation will never be the same again…

I started my stage (internship) at a local restaurant today! Oh billy. It’s intimidating enough to go work at a new place in the United States, and when you’re going into a place where only one person speaks the same language that you do…mama mia. It was nice to be around a few people my own age though.

The other issue is that I have no transportation here, so I’m making the two hour walk every morning to go to this restaurant. It’s a beautiful walk, I don’t mind that part. I didn’t fully comprehend how widespread the break I mentioned in yesterday’s blog is. Everyone left the restaurant at 3:30pm. Luckily, one of the guys asked if I needed a ride, or else I would have been the only one left inside in a uniform. (And it came so close to happening! Picture me, standing in an empty Italian kitchen wondering where the heck everyone went! Aiee. Porca miseria. This language thing is killing me.)

So, they gave me two numbers to call at 6pm to ask for a ride home. I called each one ten times and nobody answered…the numbers weren’t working. Are you kidding me right now? So, I called the restaurant and just told them that I guess I couldn’t come back until tomorrow. I’m not sure they completely understood… The thing is, I left my sneakers at the restaurant, cause I figured we were only going out for a few minutes. So I’ll have to make the walk tomorrow in kitchen clogs. What an adventure!

I learned a lot this morning, though, so I guess it’s all worth it! The most important lesson is to make sure that you understand the recipe right. I was making tuille batter and I could swear the guy, Davide, said to substitute cocoa powder for the flour. Turns out he actually said put all the flour in and add a tiny bit of cocoa at the end. So I did it over; a lesson well-learned though. I made ragu with salcicca di Bra, and talgliarine (homemade spagetti), a million stupid tuilles (god, I’ve always detested tuilles and think I always will), and bonet–a molto tipico Piemontese dessert (a chocolate custard with amaretti cookie crumbs baked in. All the versions I’ve tried so far have been nastiness though. I think it needs some help). If you haven’t noticed, my English skills are going right down the tubes; please forgive me.

It hailed today! A lot! I was half way to work when it started and luckily for me, my friends who own the chicken farm (I found out today that their names are Luciano and Cristiana) were going to Gallo this morning, so they picked me up half way. Ding!

I had dinner at the circolo with Carmela, Giuseppe and Beatrice. Afterwards they took me to their house and gave me the grand tour. They have 3 dogs, 2 rabbits and 80 chickens! The drinking habits here should be upping my tolerance pretty quickly (I hope!) Wine with every meal and always apperitifs! No matter how much I protest, somehow I ALWAYS end up with a big glass of some foreign liquor in front of me. The key is to make your first sip really big, and then there’ll only be a couple more painful sips to go…

It was an exciting day though, to say the least! A domani… (Untill tomorrow…)

Here’s the view from my window–well, a partial view anyways. I haven’t quite figured out what this little building is. Outwardly, it seems to be a church, but I haven’t actually seen it being used as such yet. I think people gather there for pranzo (lunch) once a week. And I think they have meetings there some nights. It’s also the spot at which local dirt bike riders rendezvous on occassion. So perhaps it’s like an American Legion or Moose Club of sorts. I’ll have to do some more investigation and let you know… That big gaudy sign out front is plastered with political ads because the vote for the new president of the province was this week. (The left side won).

This is Sinio’s circolo (club). It’s not like any establishment we have in the United States. This complex houses a school (on the second floor), the post office, a grocery store that’s sometimes open once a week (and sometimes not at all), and the circolo, which is kind of like a cafe, but more like a place for people to go (during the hours it feels like being open) to have a coffee, play cards, schlirp a grappa, etc. Carmela, the woman in charge of it, also serves lunch after mass on Sundays. It’s very cool and probably the most interesting part of this whole town. Everybody goes there at least once a week to catch up on local gossip and spend time with friends.

I keep hoping to meet someone my age there, but haven’t as yet. That’s okay though, because I’ve made pretty good friends with Enza (short for Vincenza), who is Gigi the furniture maker’s wife. Previously in the blog, I referred to her as Giga, but I found out a couple of days ago that people were calling her that because they couldn’t remember her real name (Giga is the feminine version of Gigi–her husband’s name). I would have to say that Enza and Gigi, Carmela (of the circolo) and her kids Beatrice (5) and Giuseppe (13), along with Armando (76), and this couple who own a chicken farm (and whose names I don’t actually know), are my best (okay…and only) friends here so far. But these people are so wonderful, I wouldn’t even mind if I didn’t make friends with anyone else! I love it here, and can’t remember a time when I was happier than I am now.