Whoops

I haven’t posted about any of my travels in over 6-months! Whoops!

So here’s what happened. I went to Istanbul last April and literally took over 1,000 pictures. Now I shoot with a Nikon D90 in camera Raw and like to post process my pictures, choose the best, add captions, put them in an album online. At the same time, write about my adventures in a blog post (90% for my own prosperity, but 10% in case anyone else enjoys it) and add a few of the photos relevant to the travel story.

I was so overwhelmed with the idea of processing those 1000 Istanbul photos that everything stopped. I still haven’t started with those 1000 pictures from Turkey, but I’m going to move past this block. Starting now I’ll write about and upload pictures from trips as I take them and try to back fill the last 6-months when I can.

In the next few days (weeks?) I’ll fill in recent adventures like the weekend Daniele and I just spent in Umbria with his cousins there. Also Ferragusto just past, August 15 is a holiday that Italians all take off from work and picnic– so fun! And we’re going to Umbria again next weekend; probably to Perugia where I expect to eat lots of chocolate. Daniele and I also recently went through lots of paperwork and I finally mailed in my petition to sponsor his fiance visa, so we can get married in the US. That’s a bit of a different kind of adventure, but I think I’ll record our experiences with it here just the same.

Cheers!

Umbria with Daniele’s Cousins

Daniele’s mother is from Umbria, the region east of Lazio (were Rome is). Her sister never left and still lives in the house where they grew up. She has three sons a bit older than Daniele and his brother that are each married. The oldest two each have a daughter about 15 and a son about 7 years old. I met this whole side of the family last year and adored them! Unfortunately they are about two hours away from us in Rome.

We’ve been trying for a while to organize a day with Daniele’s cousin Massimo, his wife Catia, and their children Sara and Diego. It is hard because everyone involved works shifts (Daniele is a nurse, Massimo a factory manager, and Catia a police officer) so it’s not like we can just pick a weekend, or even the first weekend Daniele has off. This day worked out because they were on vacation. In the summer most Italians take vacation. They were spending theirs between Catia’s family beach house, which coincidentally is right by Daniele’s parent’s beach house, and her family house were she grew up in Volperino. The latter is where we met up with them.


Cousins Daniele, Sara, and Diego

Their house in Volperino is a lovely large independent house on a large lot. Dare I say “villa”? The town is up in the mountains and a beautiful place to escape the heat of Rome. It is a such a nice place. Everyone in town knows each other. In fact the neighbors stopped by randomly throughout our two day stay there.

The town itself was damaged significantly by the 1997 earthquake. Italian houses are built differently than ours, from stone, and are expensive and time consuming to repair. It can take decades to build a house and obviously these people can not stay homeless that time. Most moved away, some have RVs on their property. 15 years later it is still a town under construction and the population is much lower, especially in the winter.


Only one wall is left from this house.

When we first got there, the kids were still sleeping because they had been out dancing till 2am the night before. Everyone in town goes to the bar (coffee shop) every night. We went later that night.

Catia made us lunch. After we lounged under almond trees to pass the afternoon heat. Daniele and I went to Nocera Umbra before dinner and when we came back his aunt and uncle were there, too. As well as some other people I was never introduced to (Italians do not automatically introduce everyone present). After dinner, we all walked to the town bar (coffee shop) where everyone in town was there hanging out all night long. The younger kids played hide and seek, the older ones foosball and ping pong, the elderly played cards, some adults played bocce ball, and everyone else just hung out.


Almond tree at Catia and Massimo’s house

Monday Daniele and I had the best of intentions to take a morning hike with Massimo, but just didn’t wake up early enough. So we took an easier walk with Sara and Diego that was more eating road-side blackberries than it was hiking. We hung out for the morning and early afternoon before setting off to Spoleto and home.


Sara knew all the best blackberries


Blackberry bush

Sunday we saw smoke in the distance that appeared to be a wild fire. It was just behind the rolling hills, so we could not see the flames to be sure. After a while there were helicopters and planes that dropped water, it was out the next morning. Catia said there have been a lot of them. Sure enough, Monday we saw another in the other direction. Daniele and I saw it closer up on the way home, but we also saw lots of other burnt patches of hillside. I hadn’t known wildfires were such a problem. Apparently it is always an issue in dry forest areas in Italy, especially this year with the droughts.


Wild fire near Trevi, Umbria

While we were out in Umbria, Daniele and I made some trips to see some new places. Sunday we went to the little town of Nocera Umbra. Fun thing about Nocera Umbra is it sounds a lot like “No c’era ombra” or more correctly “Non c’era ombra” which means “There was no shade”. The translation has nothing to do with the name of the town, but it did confuse the heck out of me when I was first hearing it.

The town was cute and small. They were also still reconstructing from the damage of the 1997 earthquake. Most of the places we saw in the area were, with large cranes propped up to the mountain top towns. They had a museum of torture, which I was interested in, but not enough to pay the 5 euro (or 10 for Daniele and I) entrance fee. As we were leaving we saw part of a Ballet Recital going on in the square by the door to the city. It was adorable!


View from the top of Nocera Umbra

Monday we stopped at Spoleto on our way back to Rome. Spoleto is a much bigger city and features a castle / former prison on top and a 13th century bridge. Speleto is a perfect example of the medium sized town that I love in Italy. Not the big city like Rome or Florence, which are already big and constantly getting bigger as more people flock there for work. Not the tiny hill town that is almost abandoned as the houses crumble and young people flee to where they can get jobs or worse towns only being supported by tourism. This is a city with a large working class who mostly live just outside the city walls and a small tourism business to boot. Catia works in Spoleto and gave us great advice, to park by the escalators, take them all the way up (like 5 escalators), then walk down the city. The city offered a lot to see.


Rocca di Spoleto


Ponte delle Torri. The Bridge of Spoleto. Built in 13th century.

Photo album from these two days is online here:
https://picasaweb.google.com/111221349198606775660/20120819UmbriaCousins

Sauce versus Gravy

There are some Italian-American’s out there who have a thing for correcting people who say “sauce” and telling them it’s called “gravy”. It’s often accompanied by a (an even more grating) statement about how they say it that way because their family is Italian.

Before I get too ranty about this pet peeve of mine, I want to give a disclaimer. I understand how third (or so) generation Italian-Americans cling really heavily to their/our heritage. I myself have gone so far as to spend years re-learning the language forgotten in the generations in between and even re-emigrated back to the motherland. When our Italian ancestors first moved to America they were eager to become American and embraced the local culture, unfortunately not leaving much of the cool old stuff for the next generations.

Now, as for “Italians say gravy”. This is an absolutely preposterous statement. Italians speak Italian, not English. They say neither “sauce” nor “gravy” when referring to such things. If you are curious, the Italian word “sugo” translates closest. This word would be used for a tomato based sauce and anything of similar texture. Also for juice. There is also the word “salsa” which describes pestos and other thick sauces which you may want to add a little pasta water. Something like a pasta fagoli is actually considered a soup (zuppa) and the non-pasta elements are not distinguished with a different descriptor than the pasta, which should be a small shape (like a mini farfalla), by the way. Besides adding to the “soup” texture of the dish, the small pasta cooks faster which is important because it should be cooked in the rest of the soup. This process takes longer than cooking in boiling water. But I digress.

If you were to ask an actual Italian from Italy whether it is “sauce” or “gravy” they would be dumbfounded. Non-native speakers look to us native speakers for clarity on such acute differences. It would be like an Italian asking you which is the most American of two Italian words that mean almost the same thing.

So, is it “gravy” or is it “sauce”? I tend to agree with Merriam-Webster, Oxford’s British and American Dictionaries. But I think Julia Child put it best, “A gravy without meat is just a sauce.” Which makes “Red Gravy” just “sauce” and is why I get annoyed when someone corrects my calling it “sauce” with, “we say gravy, we’re Italian.” No, actually, it really is sauce.

If anyone guilty of this habit happens to be reading, I petition you to cease and desist. Besides having already established it is annoying, the claim of “Italian-ness” is unfounded, and the term is technically incorrect, I’ll present another reason. Our Italian ancestors came to America without speaking English and had to learn quickly with likely little resources. It is understandable they did not learn the language perfectly, maybe not even the correct term for something as everyday for an Italian immigrant as ‘sauce’. But it is a little more strange that their native-English speaking children would continue this mistake rather than learn the correct term. Then for these children or their children to take it further by insisting the wrong term is actually “how Italians say it”– that takes some coglioni (the expression works better with fegato / liver, but I didn’t think anyone would understand that). Therefore you should stop with this whole “Italians say gravy” thing because it pronounces your (and your ancestor’s) ignorance more than your Italian-ness also someday you and I may be at a dinner party together and you don’t want to unleash this rant in person.

End of Istanbul Trip

Istanbul post three of three

Daniele and I went to Istanbul back in 2012. I took 1,221 photos during the trip, which were so overwhelming I kept putting off dealing with them. But we finally tackled them and got the album down to the best 366 images. This is the last of three posts from this trip.

On our fourth full day, we got up early and walked to Fatih Mosque, in the Western District. This was the first great imperial mosque built after the conquest by Mehmet the Conqueror in 1470. It was rebuilt in 1766 after an earthquake, again 1782 after a fire and no longer has the same plan. We also saw the tombs of Mehmet and his wife.

Being once the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire, Istanbul has aqueducts. Unfortunately, Istanbul does not seem to hold its historical wonders in very much reverence. These stunning structures were marred with piles of garbage beneath the arches.

The Basilica Cistern I visited alone as well. It was built in 532 by Roman Emperor Justinian. It served as the water supply for the Great Palace (now gone) and the surrounding buildings. It was out of use and forgotten before the conquest by the Turks.

The Cistern is impressive at 65m wide, 143m long, and containing 336 columns (taken from ruined buildings). It once held 80,000 cubic meters of water delivered via 20km of aqueducts from a reservoir near the black sea.

It is dark inside and water drips on your head. People crowd the few interesting things to see: a few particular decorative columns, and a glass serpent structure brought in from Venice.

The Cistern was forgotten until it was rediscovered in 1545 by Petrus Gullius who was researching Byzantine antiquities. Locals said they could get water, and even fish, by lowering buckets in their basement floors (in fact there were some big fish down there). He asked around until he found a house were he accessed the Cistern through the basement. After rediscovered, the Turks used the cistern for a dumping ground for garbage and even bodies. It was eventually restored in 1955 and 1960 and 1985. In 1963, “James Bond: From Russia With Love” was filmed here. And finally in 1987 the city opened it to the public.

We then went to The Bazaar. I looked at some scarves and ceramic goods, but didn’t buy.

And then it was time to start our journey back home. We checked out of hotel, took the tram and ferry to Kadakoy. Walked around with our bags, through the local market, had a late lunch. I got some jasmine tea balls that open to flowers in how water and we got some pistachio soap for Daniele’s mother. We took the bus to airport, where we were delayed again. But we finally made it back home to Italy. Ready for Easter tomorrow!

Pictures from the whole trip (only the best 366):https://plus.google.com/photos/+KaitlynHanrahanIsidori/albums/5975883683758142577

Istanbul Continued

Istanbul post two of three

Daniele and I went to Istanbul back in 2012. I took 1,221 photos during the trip, which were so overwhelming I kept putting off dealing with them. But we finally tackled them and got the album down to the best 366 images. This is the second of three posts from this trip.

Our first full day in Istanbul we started with the Topkapi Palace, which took the whole morning. The complex of buildings is separated into different courts, each with more restricted access then the previous. All of the buildings are ornate, mostly decorated with tiles.

There are a lot of street vendors in Istanbul, many serve food. Grilled corn is common, in fact Italians sometimes call corn “grano turko” or Turkish Grain. Also snack breads, we tried some of these for a fast lunch today. One somewhat pretzel-like covered in sesame seeds and another that was bread-y like a bagel, but airy like a doughnut.

For the afternoon we crossed the Galata Bridge and went exploring through Karakoy. We saw the Galata Tower and this side of the “Golden Horn”. This area has almost no tourists compared to Sultanahmet.

We stopped at an outdoor cafe and I tried a Turkish coffee. My parent’s had described to me how the coffee in Greece was thick, something you could as easily chew as drink. I expected this could be similar, possibly pretty gross, but definitely worth trying. I also thought I remembered a Turkish friend describing that Turkish coffee is made by adding powder to hot water directly, like we make instant coffee, but it’s not like instant coffee, it’s good, if you like it. At first is seemed like a slightly grainy espresso; it was served in an espresso sized cup. When I reached the end, I reached all the coffee grains in a thick mush. Now, I didn’t know the etiquette of what to do here, or if I had not taken the coffee correctly up to this point to arrive here (it was not served with a spoon). Was I supposed to stir and distribute the grains throughout the drink? However, I did try to drink a bit of the mush. It tasted fine, like the coffee before it, except for the texture. The texture was a mouth-full of coffee grains and I couldn’t finish the tiny cup. Daniele continued to make fun of me for trying it, since there is clearly no coffee better than Italian.

[Edit: I followed up later and asked a Turk: you are not supposed to drink/eat the grains. Oh, well.]

We went to Tunnel Square for dinner, to a restaurant recommended in the Lonely Planet Book. They had different maze plates, which I love. Even though Daniele picked it, once he got there he decided he didn’t like it and refused to eat with me. I did not take kindly to this.

After we decided to walk home, which was pretty far, back across the bridge and everything. Probably should have taken the tram, my feet are killing me today!

Observation, Istanbul has lots of cats. Everywhere.

On Tuesday we started in the Blue Mosque. The mosque is divided into a tourist part, a lady part in the back, and the main center area for men to pray. Anyone entering had to take off their shoes and women have to cover their heads.

Aya Sophia is just across from the Blue Mosque. Daniele had already seen it so I went in alone (it is paid admission). This was a Catholic cathedral in Roman times that was converted to a mosque, and is now a museum. The original structure was very Byzantine in style, only the mosaics had been painted over in black (which made me want to cry) and there was large wood disks of Muslim symbols from the time it was a mosque.

After we walked North to the Spice Market where we bought tea. Then up the hill by the University and Suleymaniye Mosque near Beyzit Square and Mosque. We also stopped by Theodosius Forum, Little Aya Sophia, and finally the Hippodrome, where about 20 people offered to clean Daniele’s shoes.

Pictures from the whole trip (only the best 366):https://plus.google.com/photos/+KaitlynHanrahanIsidori/albums/5975883683758142577

Leaving for Istanbul

Istanbul post one of three

Daniele and I went to Istanbul back in 2012. I took 1,221 photos during the trip, which were so overwhelming I kept putting off dealing with them. But we finally tackled them and got the album down to the best 366 images. This is the first of three posts from this trip.

Yesterday Daniele and I went out with his parents and their friends to Tor San Lorenzo for the birthday of Sergio, or the the ‘New Pasquino’. He writes poems in strict roman dialect using this pen name. Pasquino was a ‘talking’ statue in Rome long ago.

The town is on the beach and there is a fish restaurant they go to there. The owner is a fisherman and used to just sell the fish, but then started to cook them up, too. We stayed here together last Easter and ate until we had to be rolled out. Sergio’s father has a house near here, which is perfect for lethargic after-lunch activities.

That night I stayed with the Isidori’s and Daniele worked a night shift. We left first thing for the airport. Unfortunately our fight was incredibly delayed. When we finally got on the plane, there was a problem with its computer and we had to wait longer on the runway for it to be fixed.

We arrived, gathered our things, and headed for Istanbul’s city center. From this airport, we had to take a bus, to a ferry, to a tram. As we entered the ferry it started to rain, and was pouring the whole time– in the stings your face way. So not the picturesque boat ride I hoped for.

Didn’t get to do anything the first day because of rain and the late hour. We did go get some dinner and I had some very yummy hummus and felafel. We also bought a mix of baklava flavors (pistachio, nut, chocolate) from “Baklavaci Muhamed SAID”.

Pictures from the whole trip (only the best 366):https://plus.google.com/photos/+KaitlynHanrahanIsidori/albums/5975883683758142577

Abbazia delle Tre Fontane

On March 14, 2012 Daniele and I visited the Abbazia delle Tre Fontane. This is an abbey built on a site of three springs, the site of martyrdom of St. Paul.

This write-up and photos are from over a year ago, March 2012, but they never made it up. I’m trying to upload old pictures and the accompanying stories now with back dates so they are archived in order.

Today we continued our tour of Italian monasteries with the Abbazia delle Tre Fontane. The place is very beautiful and religiously important. This is the sight where the Romans martyred by beheading the apostle St. Paul on June 29, 67 AD.

You enter the monestary from the Arco di Carlo Magno (Arch of Charlemagne). Much of the original art work has faded because it dates to the 8th century.

Once inside there is an open courtyard with the main abbey (left) and the church of Santa Maria Scala Coeli (right). The Abbey is the largest structure. The church inside is not as fancy as the other two, this is where the nuns and monks perform their daily activities. It was build to the specifications of all San Benedetto monasteries, so the sun comes into the part of the building relevant for the activities prudent for that time of day.

Santa Maria Scala Coeli literally means ladder to the heavens in Latin and is the smallest of the three in the Monastery. It received this name because on this spot in 1138 San Bernardo, while celebrating a mass for the dead in the presence of Pope Innocent II, had a vision in ecstasy of angels leading souls from purgatory to heaven. The church itself is beautiful.

The church dedicated to St. Paul is down a small path. It is not incredibility big, but it is very ornate. You enter from the side and immediately notice the sound of running water. On your left is an altar for St. Peter, on the right an alter for St. Paul. Each has beautiful artwork. Straight ahead are three niches of black marble for the three fountains. They are at different heights but they fit seamlessly into the church architecture. Behind the middle fountain is another altar, but it was closed. In the center floor is a mosaic representing the four seasons taken from Ostea Antica (ruins close to Rome that are similar to Pompeii). Above the entrance door is a plaque dating to the martyrdom stating that this is the place there the apostle died. Like many Italian structures, this building was build on the ruins of another, that was another. The current structure dates from 1599. Every piece in this church has history and significance, they have it all on their website [http://www.abbaziatrefontane.it].

Like Sacro Speco, these monks are Benedictine order, who follow the teachings of San Benedetto. Specifically they are the sub-order of trappisti. There are many orders but the other popular one in Italy is Franciscan, who follow the teachings of San Francisco.

The moto of San Benedetto is “prega e lavora” or “pray and work”. They hand produce and sell many goods for the income of the monastery, including honey, jam, beer, liqueur, chocolate, as well and clothing, gold, wood goods, all sorts of stuff. This particular monastery is famous for their chocolate and having just tried some, I wish I had bought more! They are also known for goods with eucalyptus, and in fact the grounds of the monastery were covered in eucalyptus trees, as well as olive trees, and other herbs. I saw a bay leaf plant that had grown into a tree! Like Sacro Speco they sell a variety of honeys, but a few more options here. I picked up some eucalyptus honey and some pollen to add to the walnut honey we got before (so much delicious honey!). I’m excited about the pollen, it’s a jar of little grains of yellow pollen. You are supposed to eat a spoon of it in the morning for added energy.

I mentioned they make booze. Here they make all sorts liqueurs from herbs, eucalyptus, chocolate, and citrus. Their brothers in Germany make beer and have gotten pretty famous for it. I was looking at a shelf of some of these crafted brews when I saw one I recognized as a particularly delicious beer available in many US bars, probably just mixed in, right? Nope Chimay is made by Trapisti monks. I picked up a color label I’ve never tasted – hope it’s even better than the red!

Full album from this day trip:
https://plus.google.com/photos/111221349198606775660/albums/5868250225318597217

Zio Amato in Anzio

This is an older post that never made it online. I’m putting it up now with a back-dated post-time. Since this blog is, primarily, my own travel diary.

Yesterday Daniele and I went to visit his father’s brother Amato and his wife Cinzia for lunch. I had not met them before. They live a bit south of Rome by the beach.

Since I have never been to the area and it was a beautiful day we arrived early to walk around on our own. Anzio is an adorable beach/fishing town and we had a great time walking its seaside paths. There was also some type of celebration going on (or maybe just your typical Sunday in Anzio?). I bought a small bag of pistachios from a farmer’s stand that we munched on while walking around.

The port was busy with boats that seemed to have just come into town and were sorting and selling all of their fish.

Ancient Roman Emperor Nero had a seaside home here. It is located right between the sea and the park-like paths that skirt around the beach.

Daniele’s aunt and uncle were so nice. They welcomed us in their house with some prosecco before taking me on a tour of their large apartment. Amato has a patio in the front and a small garden in the back. He grows a few palms and fruit trees including a cherry, lemon, and pomegranate. The pomegranate tree only made one fruit last year and he used it to make liqueur (following the same process as limoncello). Amato collects antiques and all of his furnishings are beautiful antique pieces.

Amato and Cinzia made special vegetarian dishes just for me. And then after lunch, in true Italian fashion, or at least in Daniele’s family, we enjoyed some rounds of cards.

The pictures from this day are buried about halfway down my catch-all album for the 3-month trip to Rome I took January to April 2012:
https://plus.google.com/photos/+KaitlynHanrahanIsidori/albums/6010435566436983425

Monastery of Saint Benedict – Sacro Speco

On March 5, 2012 Daniele brought me to the Saint Benedict Monastery of Sacro Speco.

This write-up and photos are from over a year ago, March 2012, but they never made it up. I’m trying to upload old pictures and the accompanying stories now with back dates so they are archived in order.

Saint Benedict Monastery of Sacro Speco

Our trip to Assisi seems to have reminded Daniele of the largely untapped “places to visit” the Catholic Church offers us here. We’ve visited a few exceptionally pretty churches, abbeys, and monasteries, but there are much more we still have yet to see.


Saint Benedict Monastery of Sacro Speco

The two largest orders of monks are of Saint Frances and Saint Benedict. Saint Frances, famously walked from Assisi to Rome. Saint Benedict prayed in a cave and had visions (to simplify things a bit). That very cave was turned into a monastery, which is not far from us in Rome. Benedictine monks also believe in a “work and pray” model which leads to awesome hand made goodies in their shops, like honey.


Monk on a cell phone

This monastery, Monastero San Benedetto – Sacro Speco, in the city of Subiaco, is very old with beautiful stuccoes on the walls. Like Assisi, and apparently any church, the older church is the lower level and they built on above it. Here the lower level showed its age with a fair amount of scratched in graffiti. People are animals.


Monastery of Saint Benedict – Sacro Speco : Stucco of Madonna Saint Gregory’s Chapel in lower/older church covered in graffiti signatures

The amazing thing about this place, and what I really didn’t expect, is the cave is there in its original form built right into the church. It is not covered in tiles or other wise refinished; it is a cave just in a church.

There is another Benedictine monastery below Sacro Speco, Monastery of Saint Scholastica. We took a tour of this one. They had a store so I bought some honey.


View from Monastery of Saint Benedict – Sacro Speco, including Monastery of Saint Scholastica (front left) and city of Subiaco (back right).

As a little bonus there are some Ancient Roman ruins just on the road to Sacro Speco. A villa of Nero. You find old villas of Nero everywhere you go around Rome; dude had a lot of houses.

The rest of the photos from this trip can be found here:
https://plus.google.com/photos/111221349198606775660/albums/5865687971036327841

Family in Umbria

On Feburary 25 and 26, 2012, Daniele and I spent the weekend in Umbria. We spent most of the 25th in Assisi and that night and the following day visiting his mother’s family in the country near Sellano.

This write-up and photos are from almost a year ago, February 2012, but they never made it up. I’m trying to upload old pictures and the accompanying stories now with back dates so they are archived in order.

This past weekend Daniele went to the tiny town where his mother is from in Umbria. Umbria is in central Italy sandwiched between Lazio (Rome’s region on the West coast) and Marche (East coast) with Tuscany (and Florence) to the North. It is the only land-locked region in central Italy. These regions are like states and have their own local governments*. It was only 150 years ago that they were all individual kingdoms, except Lazio, Umbria, Marche, and Romagnia (now Emilia-Romagnia, the region West of Tuscany) were part of the State of the Church.

*Interesting, following the “example of the United States”, Italy has been decentralizing its power and giving more control to local governments.


Italy pre unification (150 years ago)


Italy today

I’m getting off topic. Umbria looks very much like the countryside of Lazio or Tuscany, but it’s just that much more rural. Daniele said the house where his mother grew up didn’t even have electricity when she was born. That is actually exactly where we were staying, with his mother’s sister. They live in the town of Sellano, which is already pretty small, but we were actually outside in the sub-area/zone of Calcinaro. Calcinaro has very few residents. The young people move to where there is more work so everyone who is left is old and even they are counting down.

As I mentioned, we stayed the night with Daniele’s Aunt Caterina and Uncle Giuseppe in his mother and aunt’s family home. I had never been in a house like this; even homes 40 minutes outside Rome are still condos/apartments. The largest I’ve been in before this was a barbeque in what I would describe as a multiple-family-home; over an hour from Rome, they had a garden and two stories but still shared walls with their neighbors. This was an independent house, with two floors, and not only were there chicken coops outside, but old turkey ones, all sorts of stuff.

Caterina cooked us a delicious dinner on Saturday and lunch on Sunday. I won’t list all of the courses, there were many, but I’ll give some highlights. She has this big wooden board that goes over a similar sized table in her kitchen. She uses this surface for rolling out pizza and pasta dough (she made stringozzi, a handmade spagetti-like pasta particular to this region for us). To roll out the dough she uses the rolling pin of HER grandmother (without being rude to Rina, I can’t imagine how old Daniele’s mother’s and her older sister’s grandmother’s rolling pin is). The rolling pin was completely unique. If you know much about wood rolling pins, the french style is tapered at the ends and the Italian “pasta style” is a consistent diameter dowel. This monster looked more fit to be a table leg than a rolling pin; it was not tapered, a dowel about as wide as my forearm and long as my leg.

I didn’t partake in this part, but they roasted the meat in the fireplace, which I hear makes it taste extra good (the fact that the meat was probably running around their yard that morning probably helps, too). Their fireplace is neat, it has iron pipes coming down passing through the flames that is used as a secondary hot water heater.

Normally they would slaughter one of their chickens for company, but since I don’t eat meat and Daniele doesn’t really like chicken, some little bird got to live another day. I got to enjoy their eggs though for one of the courses at Sunday lunch, and they were delicious! We had a frittata which is an Italian omelet that is eaten for lunch or dinner and not breakfast. The reason Caterina made this was because it is the traditional way to prepare truffles. Earlier we had a discussion about truffles. Apparently they grow in this area and Giuseppe goes out collecting them every so often. He uses a dog, which does the job better than a pig. Apparently they only used pigs in like the middle ages before dogs were so easily available. I was really blown away to hear him talk about the differences between winter and summer truffles (winter are better, but also harder to find). There is a annual truffle festival not too far from here being held in another week. Their knowledge of a food that I have only ever had sparingly grated over a pasta, or infused in an oil that was then drizzled over my plate blew my mind a bit. Update 4/2013, I now eat a sinful amount of truffles.

Daniele and I explored the area a little bit Saturday morning. We walked to Vio, up on the hill top, which is another zone/area of Sellano. There we saw the oldest church in Sellano and a few more people moving about. Apparently a few German families have bought up houses in the area for summer homes. On our way walking up we passed people Daniele knew. They are the last family in the area to herd sheep, and that’s what they were doing, though it seemed they had almost as many dogs as sheep. We talked to Luigi, his mother, and saw his brother. Luigi was very friendly. His mother, I feel bad, but I really thought she was a man until Daniele told me otherwise that night. He pointed out she was wearing a dress, I pointed out she had a beard and old people dress weird! And when I say she had a beard, I mean you could have braided those white hairs. Daniele’s aunt and uncle have an accent, but I can mostly understand them, this women I couldn’t understand a word– but neither could Daniele!


We also walked to Ottaggi a different hill. From there we could see Sellano, the actual ‘city’ along with temporary housing that was built for people after the earthquake in 1997 but is still in use.

Sunday after lunch we paid a visit to the next door neighbor, a woman named Maria. The area is rural, but the houses are built in clumps, Maria’s door is 20 feet from Caterina’s. When we were going, I asked if I needed a coat, and they laughed at me. There is probably not another house for a mile, but Rina and Maria could have a conversation from open windows in their respective houses if they wanted. Shortly after we arrived her daughter, Elide joined. She is the companion (word Italians use for adult long-term relationship, particularly when you live together) of Luigi, who we met earlier herding sheep. Another woman, Giulianna joined as well. Giulianna works at a cheese factory and gifted us a full wheel of fresh ricotta made that day. I think Daniele’s parents told his aunt I like it. They were all actually really fun. Giulianna particularly talked about seeing the United States the way many Americans talk about going to Italy (or insert favorite European country here). At one point they were joking about their accents and I wasn’t sure if I could laugh. They definitely had accents, but so does Daniele. Theirs was weird. It was clearly county: like Appalachian meets Italian. There was definitely that “small town” everyone knows everyone feel. While, I understand and admire why Daniele’s mother left this town for Rome I really liked it here. I hope economic pressure doesn’t wipe out the whole town.

Caterina and Giuseppe have three sons: Massimo, Mauro, and Giulianno. Giulianno had to work, but I had met him and his wife another time. Massimo, his wife Catia, their children Sara and Diego, Mauro, his wife Stefania, and their children Martina and Marco all came over for the afternoon. The family is lucky in that the cousins, the two older girls and the two younger boys, are about the same ages. This is the most of Daniele’s family I had ever met. This pretty much was his family, it’s just far away. I loved all of them! Especially Catia and the girls: Sara and Martina.

The complete album from this weekend including Assisi:
https://plus.google.com/photos/111221349198606775660/albums/5862010840111467969