tiny acid trip

Since the Major has a training class to attend in Oberammergau, Germany, we decide to make a bit of an adventure out of the trip north.  We schedule an aggressive itinerary  with a different stop each night - hoping that Smalls will be a willing participant.

First stop is the country of San Marino.

If you have never heard of this country, well, that's probably because, like the Vatican, it's really a part of Italy.  We marvel at the ability of a tiny (24 square miles) country to remain autonomous.

Without reservation, I can say that it's the cutest little country I have ever seen.

Getting to the top of the mountain where the country is situated, it becomes clearer that the defense of this nation was a priority, and likely resulted in its current independent state.

Well, that and the vampire population, apparently...

Ravenna beckoned us with her churchly mosaics spanning four different styles of architecture.

Friendly faces accompany us on our walking tour...

 

Where tiny shards of glass twinkle stories of religious fervor.

    

Dizzying heights reveal scenes of struggle and redemption.

Admiring the handiwork works up an appetite.  We press on to Brisighella where we hear rumors of a truffle festival.  Our efforts are rewarded...

We investigate new fruits we have never seen before...

  

Then the Major sways my previous stance on preferring black over white truffles with a panzerotto di tartufo bianco.

Our appetites whetted, we press on towards what some consider the stomach of Italy, Bologna.

But since we were passing through Modena, we decide to make a pit stop for the infamous Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale di Modena.

When we visited the country many years ago, we had a fantastic tour of a house that makes balsamic vinegar.  We learned all about the making this unbelievable product, and developed a deep respect for the process.  If you are wondering about the hype, this kind of vinegar takes a minimum of 12 years to produce, and it tastes almost nothing like the kinds you generally find on the shelves in the US.

Not remembering where we went before, we got the address for a place to visit in Modena from friends.  When we showed up, we realized that it was the same place we had been before.

We were very excited to revisit the same family and taste the precious treat.

Arriving in Bologna, we have pretty much only one thing on our mind: gelato.  Although we are wearing winter gear, we have been advised that there is some excellent ice cream in the vicinity.  Our source does not disappoint.  Suddenly it's a warm summer day in the middle of winter...

Milan was the final Italian destination, and although most would probably head for the fashion, our destination was La Scala, the famed opera house.

From the outside the building is pretty ordinary, but the inside is breathtaking.  No photos allowed, but here is a neat old postcard that shows the boxes we got to tour...  

Seeing an opera here is definitely on our list of things to do...

We wander around the fantastic duomo

I get completely creeped out by the crypts and death masks...

But the interior of the church is awe-inspiring...

And do our share of window shopping...

We find a gelateria, and Smalls eats mine in rapid fashion before I can even document its existence...

Crossing the border, we make Lucerne, Switzerland our next destination.  We take a stroll on the medieval bridge...

And head to Zurich, where we are meeting friends for dinner...

In Zurich, we are treated to a personal tour of the city, 

  

and a fantastic dinner in a restaurant over 600 years old...

In the morning we head to another miniature country, but one more familiar, Lichtenstein.

As we make our way up another mountain, to yet another tiny principality, the clouds remain behind us, creating a foggy lake below...

But we don't dally too long - the biergartens of Munich are calling...

vecchia funghi

This weekend we made it out to Caserta, to see the Royal Palace, and the old town...

The palace was as expected.  Old, interesting frescoes, crazy-looking furniture...  a theatre, which was not open, and an expansive garden.  I look forward to finding an event to attend at the theatre, and bringing a picnic lunch for an afternoon exploring the gardens.

Caserta Vecchia is one of those ancient tiny towns on a hill...

With mind-blowing architecture...

A requisite torre...

Or two...

And a gorgeous little church....

With at least one more-or-less disturbing relic...

I am in love with the large imposing doors...

And creative openings...

Some with a forbidden past...

You can just feel the history seeping through the stones...

I imagine a world where there are no cars...

Work is done by hand...

We are drawn into a cafe where the display of treats gives us pause for difficult decisions...

The most stressful part of the trip complete, we took our treasure on the road...

Since we were out in that direction, we pressed on a bit further to find a chestnut festival.

Chestnuts are a well known product of this area, and we figured that we should learn about some of the typical ways the little nuggets are prepared.

I have to be honest.

I am not particularly a fan of the chestnut.

But I try to have an open mind.

In usual Italian style, I found them to be delicious.

Perhaps it was the enchanting atmosphere of the festival, set against hills flocked with autumnal trees...

Or the warmth of the open fires decking the walking paths...

But in one short afternoon I became quite fond of the nutty treats.

It's difficult to count the varieties presented - everything from fresh off the tree...

To roasted,

and baked...

Some were masking in other forms...  (that's chestnut formed into mushrooms)...

To candied and dried...  oh, and of course... alcoholic...

Creme de chestnut anyone?  We passed on that option, but did bring home a bottle of crema di baba...  It's hard to describe the flavor, but its namesake is an extremely popular dessert from the area.  You can try some and form your own opinion when you stop by...

And then there were the complimentary foods...

Sausages, Wine, and other local specialties...

Including the illustrious truffle.

Ah tartufo...  you mischievous devil...

This little black mushroom (there are white ones too, but I prefer the black) has a unique taste and smell that you will never forget once you experience it...

I celebrated the chestnut festival by dining on what amounted to an open-face grilled cheese

Yes people, that is caciocavallo cheese, roasting over a fire.

With truffle shavings on top.

Heavenly...

I was completely transported to this foreign land of festivity when I see a familiar face...

Smalls is completely nonplussed.  Her Switzerland response seems to indicate that she too thinks these characters are ever-so-slightly out of place...

We wind our way out of town, through the hills, and towards the sunset over the Mediterranean, our stomachs full from our adventurous journey.

At home we use the small truffle we bought at the festival to make a pasta dish.

The animal print interior of the little stinky prize made it ever more delightful.

We marvel that Smalls is developing quite the expensive taste in food.

She licks the pasta clean.

so smart

I think the vegetable guy likes me.

The last time I went to Conad to shop, he was very friendly (as usual), and was very excited that the baby was awake this time (she is always sleeping!)

But then...  he offered me a coffee!

Right in the middle of the fruit and vegetables.

There was a little silver carafe.

He poured me this tiny cup of black gold.

And it was fantastic.

I practically skipped through the store.

Seriously excellent way to drum up business... get everyone hyped up on coffee - maybe they will buy more...  or, in my case, just get their shopping done much faster...

Brilliant!

There are a few noteworthy things here...  such as the unexpected and unbelievably good coffee in strange locations...

Like the shopping carts, for example.

In order to use a cart, you have to insert a euro coin - generally a 50 cent, or 1, or 2 euro coin.

When you return the cart to its rightful place, you get the coin back.  Excellent.  Saves from carts being strewn every which direction.  So smart.

Probably wouldn't work in the states for a quarter.

And let's get real, who carries a dollar coin?

On first glance, the parking situation in our piazza would seem pretty dumb.

But having watched our parking "attendants" in action for a few weeks, their system works quite well...  Parking is several cars deep, they know who belongs to what car, they know if you live there, they help direct people around, and they make a few bucks along the way.

They can get your car un-buried in a matter of moments.

Curiously they are nowhere to be found when the carabinieri and tow trucks show up...

It's a good show from up above, where I sit with a cup of coffee, observing the drama of shaking fists, tears, and more hand signals than a fast moving baseball game.

I have come to really respect riposo.  It's the perfect time to go for a walk, or do some shopping when everyone else is...  um...   - well I haven't figured that out yet, but the stores are empty (or closed), and there is only a little traffic.  Sunday morning calm scheduled in the middle of daily chaos.  Just lovely.

It's a great opportunity to get out and about - where you could visit a park like this one...  and...  Well, if you can figure out what "is" allowed, you could do it!

Something else most Americans don't think of when community planning - building your houses so close together that in a pinch a guy could just hold them up himself.  This proximity also prevents most automobile traffic on your street...

Although the stylin motos can still get by...

You get extra points for packing your entire family of four or five on a two-wheeler.  

Don't forget to bring Fido.  

Wear flip flops.  

Leave the helmets at home.

While you are out and about you might also notice that using the bathroom is a bit of an adventure...  Many toilets don't have a seat at all...  and this would prevent almost anyone from trying to sit down (and who would do that in a public restoom anyhow?)  

In this case, however, there was a seat, and it went up and down automatically.  I want one of these for my house...  Just as soon as Smalls gets over thinking any toilet is her own private pool...

No need to worry about finding a place to kick back and relax though...

Since cars are everywhere, and here they are furniture.

It's totally acceptable to lean, sit, stand, or use any car available as a goal for your game of calcio (cal-cho) - soccer...

This guy is enjoying his sandwich leaning against our car.  

While we were sitting in it...

While on the subject of cars - what a fantastic idea to make use of space available and park on the sidewalk.  

Oh, and driving into oncoming traffic?  What an intelligent move to make your daily commute more adventurous.  No one was really using that lane anyway...

Throwing your hands out the window, honking and yelling really drives the point home...  on both ends...

Stop signs?  Really, what's the point.  In fact, much better to use your own judgement about when and where to go, and how fast to do it.

Ah Italy...  what a capricious little rebel you are...

in the black

This past weekend we took a trip to see our friends in Martina Franca.  With her husband on the way to the boat to fly exercises for a few weeks, T decided that this was the weekend to put together a Thanksgiving dinner, and we were lucky enough to be invited.

My friends back "home" have a tradition of eating Thanksgiving dinner whenever we manage to gather as a group.  It's been a few years - what with children being raised, and families moving about the world - since we have managed to convene, but the concept of "scheduling" holidays, and meals of thanks, is one that I am very amenable to.

What is it about celebrating a traditional holiday away from home that makes a person feel so much closer to home...

I believe that this is the first international Thanksgiving I have attended.  Food from Italy, family recipes from America and Croatia, wine from France, beer from Belgium.  So very cosmopolitan...

There is one problem...

This puts a real kink in my "no Christmas music till after Thanksgiving" rule -

Thanksgiving came really early this year.

I guess we will have to get used to breaking rules here in Italy.  We will just have to embark on creating some new rules and family traditions.  Like pecan pie with bacon for breakfast...

On Sunday we visited the town of Alberobello to see the Trulli.

An incredibly beautiful fall day in a magical little town.

The story goes that in order to avoid taxation, the people built houses that could be easily dismantled when inspectors paid a visit.  The charming little domed houses dot the landscape of Apulia, and are clustered in Alberobello.

We make a mandatory gelato stop, and comb the tiny shops for local treats - Smalls in tows.

Back on the road to Pozzuoli, we stop to pick up sandwiches, and for a coffee.

It probably goes without saying, but here goes...

Wait for it.....

Coffee in Italy is an art.

Perhaps I shall have a masters in this art before I leave town...

I'm going to give it a serious go.

Let me back up to the first time I had "real" Italian coffee, in Italy.  For, in fact, a family friend introduced me to Illy many years ago, and although delicious, it still lacked something that it does not here, in country...  probably the water...

When I first encountered Italian coffee (caffe normale) - what most Americans would probably call espresso, I had many preconceived notions - for example, that Italians don't put sugar in their coffee (they do), and that they don't drink cappuccinos after breakfast (they don't - although I have discovered that there are other forms of coffee with cream or milk that are just as tasty).

My favorites so far are the caffe macchiato, and caffe schiumato.  A caffe macchiato (which means "stained") is an espresso with just a touch of milk and foam, whereas the caffe schiumato is just foam on an espresso.  Apparently there is also a latte macchiato, where espresso is added to milk (as opposed to the other way around), but I have not encountered that one yet.  I doubt highly that it will resemble what Starbucks considers a macchiato in any way.

Here people also stop at the gas station for coffee as they traverse the autostrade.

And at the auto grille we are given the cutest little to-go cups I have ever seen.

Keep in mind that the espresso only fills around 1/2 of this cup...

Now, when would you ever buy a meal at a gas station in the US?  Ok, I know there are exceptions...  but really...  these are some of the best sandwiches I have ever eaten, and the coffee...  well, the coffee makes every stop worthwhile.

Ridiculous.

We make it back to Pozzuoli, fulfilled and fully fueled.