School

Sorry that the last post was put up so late--I've been having internet problems which got in the way. I hope that I've figured out a workaround, at least temporarily, and hopefully it will change into something more permanent.

On to the subject of the day, how is school? The terrific news is that its all in Italian, and as such I am picking up a whole slew of vocab, from things about pots, pans, spices, and utensils, to being able to answer questions like "what did you do yesterday afternoon?" I really hope my language progress continues at the same rate-- if it does, I'm going to be great in Italian by the end!

As for the cooking part, I am enjoying it. The way the class works is that every day we make our lunch, always based on a traditional Italian-style menu: an antipasti (app.), a primo (pasta, usually--today we made three different kinds of sauce), a secondo (usually some kind of meat or fish dish), a few contorini (side dishes), an insalata (salad), and a dolce or posto (dessert). We work all morning to create our feast, and then finish off the day with eating. We only make small servings of each dish, which means a few bites of each--just a perfect portion. Having these kinds of menus allows us to see a lot of different dishes every day, and is a great way to learn about the food. However since we make such small portions, not everyone participates in the making of every dish, so there is a bit of watching as well.

The people in the class are diverse and international. There is only one other native English speaker, and she speaks terrific Italian. The only person with weaker language skills is from Israel, and the only person with stronger cooking skills is a native Italian. Four of us have worked professionally before (I'm the only girl in that group), and there are four guys in the class, leaving five girls. I'm bonding best with the other American--she went to Penn and is interested in some of the same food philosophies I am-- and with Patrizia, a Costa Rican mother who decided to pack everything up and go to Italy for a new experience. I like talking with her, because she understands me even when I speak half in Spanish. How healthy that is for my Italian is a whole other story.....

As promised, I'm going to share some recipes. This first recipe is the dish I was responsible for in class today: Spaghetti all'Arancia (Spaghetti with oranges). I picked the recipe because it sounded so strange and excited me--I was hoping to learn about some new flavors, and this sounded like a step in the right direction.

Ingredients: spaghetti, 4 oranges, 4 anchovies, 2 cloves of garlic, 2 tablespoons of breadcrumbs, olive oil, 4 tablespoons of white wine, parsley to garnish, salt to taste.

Apparently this is some kind of traditional Tuscan dish, and it sounded so interesting to me! The recipe followed a classic flavor profile combination: sweet and salty, one that works very well in many other dishes (think about pretzels dipped in chocolate, or a carrot soup). I also have to admit I was craving to do some good knifework...it pains me to be in a kitchen and just watch. I much prefer to cut things. The recipe called for the oranges to be cut into supremes, a technique which involves cutting the thin skin off of each slice so that you only have the inner pulp. When I started to attack the oranges today, someone whispered to a classmate that it was clear I had learned the technique elsewhere. I smiled to myself. I'll be the first to admit my pride :D

Put the pasta on to boil. Put a large amount of oil in a hot pan, along with some garlic that has just been lightly mashed with the side of a knife but still left mostly whole. Let the garlic sweat for a moment, then add the anchovies and stir it around until they disintegrate. Add the breadcrumbs and toast them, then add the wine and orange slices and let some of the liquid evaporate. Cook for a few minutes under a high flame, being careful not to let anything burn. Add the pasta and parsley, mix well, and enjoy. If done right, the texture of the sauce should be a little pasty and gummy, helping the pasta stick together well.

It was about as good as it sounded. I was mightily disappointed by this, as I had the hopes that I had found a new and wonderful flavor combination. there was just something about warm orange slices that didn't work. I want to say it was partially because of the flavor combination with the wine, and partially because of the fishiness. It was just too much in a plate, and while it wasn't disgusting, I didn't finish my portion.

Don't worry, I promise to put up a delicious recipe tomorrow to make up for this one. I just want to share recipes with stories, and this recipe definitely did! I'm so glad that school is going well and that I'm settling in to life here, and glad to be learning, even if it isn't always about learning how to cook good food.

My New Home

I finally found a place to live, and am really happy with it. Its living with a mother and her three daughters, seems like the mother is separated from their father. The girls range in age from 12-17, and the house is well-lit, large, and very comfortable. My room is about the same size as my dorm room was at school, but without the need for as many things here, it feels like I've got a lot more space! The neighborhood is quiet and residential, but there are enough small shops and little restaurants nearby that I'm quite happy.

I'm glad to be living in an Italian home, as it is really forcing me to use my language skills. They invited me to join them for dinner last night, which ended up being them grilling me with lots of questions about my past (I haven't learned past tense yet, so that was a little tough!) and eating delicious food. Thank goodness they noticed when I was worn out and unable to speak anymore--I had just moved in a few hours previous to it.

While this definitely isn't as difficult as adjusting to China, there is definitely some adjustment to be had. For one, there was a mosquito feasting in my room last night, and it even managed to bite me on the tip of my  nose, which has been driving me a little crazy all day. I haven't figured out how I'm supposed to use the shower. Its set up to just have one of those hand-held nozzles, and while there is  a  place on the wall for it, there isn't a curtain. I'm terrified of shooting water off to every part of the bathroom if I lose focus!

I also haven't yet figured out how to get the internet to work. They have wireless, and while my computer is picking up that the wireless exists, it refuses to connect (or they can't figure out the password), or maybe doesn't recognize that there is signal. I'm going to be posting and using their computer to connect to the internet for now, until I can figure out exactly what is going on. It might take a while for me to discover whether they got the password right or not (we've tried several ones, to no avail), as I haven't gotten the language part down yet.

Tonight at sundown Yom Kippur begins, and I plan on going to temple for a little bit tonight, since I'll be missing most of tomorrow. Of course, in this grand world of irony, I'm missing temple because its the first day of classes, and while I would be happy to miss class in general for something like this, I feel like I really need to attend the first day. So I will be going to culinary school while fasting, and then change into more appropriate clothes for the afternoon services. I'm just hoping that someone will invite me over for break-fast, as I can't imagine walking home (20-25 minutes) on such an empty stomach. There wouldn't be much point anyway, as on Sundays all the shops are closed, meaning that I have no food in the refrigerator. Oh well, we'll see what happens. Anyway, next post will be all about my big day tomorrow! I hope I have enough sharp pencils for class!

People I'm meeting

Today I met Barbara, an older South African jew. She asked me if I knew where her hotel was, and I helped her find it. We then decided to have lunch together, and she went with me to one apartment to help me look, and because she was curious about local Italian life, not that I could show that terrifically. Turned out the bedroom for rent in the apartment had no windows, so her company helped the walk go by.

While talking with Barbara I went upstairs to her room for a few and met Fernanda, a Brazilian girl about my age who moved to Italy after vacationing here and falling in love with the country. She didn't speak any Italian then, and still doesn't speak English, so was very excited about my rudimentary Italian. She must see a lot of foreigners who don't even try to communicate with her. We're going to get together for dinner or something sometime soon.


Then there was Kelvis, a Jamacian fashion photographer who spends most of his time in Milan, who was trying to not only get me to rent his apartment but also ride his motorcycle 20 minutes away to help assist him in a photo shoot of something he was trying to do, as assistant photographer. We ended up taking photos of a crazy artist who looked like a leprechaun and who put on funny costumes. He complained that I was too timid to be a photography assistant, and I explained that this was the first time I had ever attempted a photo shoot and was on an unfamiliar camera. Oh well.

"We can do this quietly here, or I can take you to the police"

I had a terrific flight in. Swissair gets two thumbs up, and I had an empty seat next to me on the cross-atlantic flight, which meant that I could put my legs up on the seat next to me and sleep surprisingly comfortably, especially because the seating arrangement also meant both an extra blanket and pillow.

I even made it from the airport in Florence into town via the bus, and while I had a little trouble figuring out which bus to take to the hotel, I managed it nonetheless, and even remembered to buy my ticket before getting on. I was very proud of myself.

The Italian bus system is a bit strange--you buy your ticket off of the bus, then when you get on you stamp it in a little machine. The system is about 99% honor, assuming that you either have a monthly pass or will buy and stamp a ticket every time you ride. The driver doesn't have anything to do with the process. Last time I was here I used the system without trouble, but also noticed that it would be terribly easy to just ride the bus always for free.

Well today I was doing things the right way, but I put my ticket into the validation machine and nothing happened. A bit concerned, I tried again. Still nothing. There was  a machine at the front of the bus, but there were lots of people getting on and it was very crowded up there. With all my bags, I couldn't reach it. I considered passing someone my ticket and asking if they would stick it in for me, but that was beyond my level of Italian. Oh well, I thought to myself, I bought the ticket, I tried to make it work, and I won't reuse the ticket anyway, so what's the big deal?

Well, it turns out that our bus got hit by a secret inspection. A pair of men flagged down the bus, stepped on, and pulled out badges, asking for tickets. I showed my unstamped ticket, and explained that I had tried to use the back machine but it didn't work. The man nodded and asked if I would go up front to stamp it, and I said of course. I decided to just leave my luggage where it was and work my way up front.

However the inspectors were working as a team. As I tried to pass the other one to go stamp my ticket up front, he asked to see it and then inquired what I was doing. I said that I couldn't do it in back and so was going up front. This was about half a block from the station where I had gotten on, and so I thought it was still within the amount of time appropriate to stamp it. He told me I was breaking the law, and I couldn't figure out how to explain that the other guy told me to go stamp it. He then started pointing and saying other things, trying to explain how this worked, and I was only following every few words. I said that I didn't understand, and so he switched to English. "The fine is 45 euros."

I asked if I could just stamp it, trying to explain how I tried to use the machine in the back but it must not have worked, and how I had just arrived and was still learning. I'm not sure what he thought of that since I was trying to do all of this in broken Italian, something most newcomers don't do (I think), but I pointed to my bags and explained that I had tried! Wasn't my effort going to count for anything?

He just asked for my passport.

I told him that that was a lot of money for me (about 1/8 of my expected rent) and that couldn't we please let this slide, and then I started crying. Some people had been watching earlier, but when I started to do this some people who spoke both English and Italian tried to translate for me to help explain the situation better. I'll admit that the crying was a bit of my trying to be melodramatic, hoping to pull this guy's heartstrings. He shook his head and asked for my documentation again.

I was not going to pull it out, because I knew if I handed my passport over then I was going to have to pay this stupid fine. Continuing the histrionics, I started hyperventilating a little bit (I'm reading a book right now where the girl does that a lot, that was my inspiration) and held on to a rail while I bent over to catch my breath. For all of you who say I can't act--you should have seen this!

At this point several people on the bus were pestering the man to leave me be-- couldn't they see that I had just gotten off a train or a plane and was obviously struggling to follow the situation? He was getting more irked, at which point he told me that I needed to hand over my documents, and if I didn't he would need to involve the police. He explained that if I didn't have the money on me then I could go to a police station later to pay it.

This had been going on for at least seven or eight minutes at this point, me begging him and him yelling at me. I guess there was someone else on the bus who finally figured out what was happening, who had been sitting by the machine I had tried to use earlier. He explained to the good cop (not the one yelling at me) that he had seen me stick my ticket in, and that I probably stuck it in the wrong hole or something, and mistook it for being validated. I could have given this guy a hug. The good cop asked me which slot I had put my ticket in, and I replied with the correct one, and then said that maybe it was the other one--I had forgotten.

At this point they must have been sick and tired of the histrionics, or perhaps this guy had convinced them that I was honest, or maybe it was all the ladies yelling at them for abusing me, but whatever the case was, the good cop took my ticket and demonstrated how to validate it for me. He told me which hole to put it in, and said that I shouldn't let this happen again. One of the women added that I should see about getting a monthly pass if I was moving here, and some of the other women smiled at me while I made relieved faces.

Luckily the next stop was mine and so I was able to bolt off the bus with cries of thank you to the random residents and tourists of Florence who took my side.

One of the people said that while it seemed horrible now, in a little while I would be able to laugh about it. What I didn't tell him was that I was already able to laugh about it--the day I almost got arrested.

To Italia!

Welcome to my blog!

This one is dedicated to my upcoming trip--I'm moving to Florence, Italy for the next three months to attend the Cordon Bleu Firenze (it may or may not have any relationship to the Cordon Bleu schools of other locales) and follow their professional program. This is a class designed for professionals who want to learn more of Italian cuisine, and is a twelve week program. The first eight weeks are in the classroom, with courses on all sorts of regional Italian cuisine as well as wine, cheese, and anything else digestible and delicious. What attracted me to the program, however, was the last four weeks, which are a kitchen internship, or stage (in kitchen-jargon). So even if the program is horrible and useless, I will still get the chance to work in a real kitchen and learn that way. And at the very least I will be living in Florence, which should be pretty amazing.

My plan is to rent an apartment with some Italians, and one major goal of the trip is to actually learn the language--I've been studying from a book for the past few weeks, trying to learn all about the grammar to prime myself so when I get there I can already be talking in multiple tenses and actually have some vocab under my belt. Of course, I'm still ridiculously nervous about this part, and for apartment hunting all these people want me to call them to set up an appointment. However it is so hard to talk on the phone, and that part is actually making me a little bit nervous. It doesn't help that these interactions will be through skype, which just makes everything a bit harder to hear. But I will have to do it eventually, and I'll let you know how it goes when I do!

As for getting ready, I seem to be doing an alright job. I'm almost packed, I have only a little more shopping to do for the last few items, and I have a cheap little hotel to stay in for the first few days while I apartment hunt. I leave Wednesday, flying on Swissair through Zurich. Should be about 13 or 14 hours travel, which isn't all too terrible.

On this blog I hope to post updates of what la dolce vita is like, recipes I've learned in school, at work, and around, and lots of pictures of my travels and life. I encourage you to share this with anyone and everyone who might be interested, and welcome all kinds of advice, from where to eat in any town all over the country (I will be doing weekend trips), to how to fend off the Italian men who explain that they indeed are "the last cassanova". I will have internet at home, so hopefully that means a post every two or three days, and it also means if you want to reach me you can always call me on skype (brightwinds).

PS. Right now the photo uploader isn't working, but hopefully I will be able to include more pics in future posts!