primavera: l'inizio

Sorry I haven't been blogging recently. My schedule changed this week (I'm teaching three new classes now) so I'm back to doing personal introductions, and it's been raining here in Milan, so I don't even have pretty pictures to show. Here are a few highlights from my week:
• I had to teach a class on the topic of "Money" for my Trinity Exam Prep class, so I opened the lessons with the song "Mo Money Mo Problems" by Notorious B.I.G. My students didn't appreciate it nearly as much as I had hoped.
• I finally found a cozy cafe to sit in and read, and have been going there almost every day. Not only do they not mind if I sit for hours on end, but they serve cappuccione - really big cappuccinos.
• I am recently obsessed with mushrooms.
• I was ambushed by mosquitoes a few nights ago and haven't opened my window yet out of pure fear. It is really hot in my room and Brigitte, the cat, is making me crazy with her meows of protest, but at least I'm not itching my skin off.
• I finished The Wire and have come to the conclusion that it is the best show ever.
A pretty lame week, if you ask me. Next week looks promising, though! My Mom and my Aunt will be visiting me and then I am off to London for five days!

olive oil cookies - or, the cookies that involved everything in my cupboard

You might remember that a few weeks back I had my first baking adventure here in Italy. It went fairly well, and I decided to make my granola bars again once I moved into my real apartment. The baking itch has been bothering me recently, so I've been exploring my options.

Baking in Italy is problematic for a couple of reasons. First of all, there is the Fahrenheit/Celsius thing. Second of all, there is the problem of measurements (grams and ounces vs. cups, teaspoons and the like). But for me, the biggest problem was baking powder.

I had no idea how to say baking powder in Italian. Wordreference.com, my usual go-to site for Italian translations, said the word was the same as the word for yeast. Obviously, the two are not the same. A few google searches and I found out the word for baking powder is lievito in polvere, and that it comes in two versions: vanilla scented, for cakes and cookies, and unscented, for breads and pizzas.

Now savvy in the ways of lievito in polvere, I made big plans to bake bread. But then I got lazy. And then I bought focaccia. And then I went out for aperitivi three nights in a row. And then I decided that I didn't want to spend the money on a recipe I wasn't experienced with - especially in a tiny, tiny kitchen that provides limited baking supplies.

Fast forward to tonight: I was scouring my cupboard when I noticed I still had a good amount of ingredients left from when I made my granola bars: oatmeal, whole wheat flour, honey, raisins, and one egg. And, having invested in baking powder, I thought I had just the right ingredients to make oatmeal raisin cookies. I was missing one integral ingredient, however: butter. I have loads of olive oil, though, so I did a quick search for "olive oil cookies" and, lo and behold, they exist! I adjusted the recipe, did a fair amount of eyeballing, and gave it a whirl. In the end, they turned out deliciously - more like healthy cookie-cakes than the buttery, chewy cookies I was craving, but still delicious (delicious by my standards - I really dig whole grain, healthy option things). Here is the recipe to the best of my knowledge (like I said, a lot of eyeballing).

Olive Oil Cookies (in my case, olive oil oatmeal cookies):
Adapted from this recipe

Measurements used: One standard size coffee mug, one tea spoon.

1 mug whole wheat flour
1 mug rolled oats
1/2 mug sugar
1/2 mug honey
1 egg, beaten
3/4 cup olive oil
2 pinches baking powder
1 pinch salt
as many raisins as you have

Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit (or 190 degrees Celsius, as I now know).

Combine all dry ingredients in a large bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk they egg, and then blend with the sugar, honey, and olive oil. Slowly add the olive oil mixture to the dry ingredients. This is where I did a lot of eyeballing. I used all of the olive oil mixture, but ended up adding more of the rolled oats, flour, and baking powder, bit by bit, until I thought I had the correct texture for raw cookie dough. Then I mixed in the raisins.

On a cookie sheet, or a baking sheet lined with parchment paper (what I used), bake for about 10-12 minutes, or until golden brown. Allow to cool. Enjoy!


limited surface space and limited resources

final product!

March 20th - the most important day of the year ... officially.

March 20th is an important day in my book. First off, it's my Dad's birthday (happy belated, dad!). Secondly, every other year it is the official first day of spring.

It is also, apparently Le Jour du Macaron: a French holiday created specifically to celebrate, eat, and enjoy French macaroons. Yes, this is a real holiday, and yes, I'm incredibly upset I missed it.

Essentially, March 20th is the best. day. ever.

I love macarons. They encompass everything I love about pastries - they're beautiful to look at, they come in delicious flavors (cassis! salted caramel! raspberry ganache!), and the central ingredient, almond, is one of my absolute faves. They have them in almost all French bakeries, but if you're completely desperate (as I so often am), you can order them online. So the real question: why wasn't I aware that there is an entire holiday dedicated to these little culinary wonders? Well, the truth is, it's not very well publicized, and I'm in Italy, where they would never openly recognize anything French (they're still bitter about the whole Zidane thing).

So, as a belated homage to my new favorite holiday, I'll post a few of the photos I've taken of macarons in the past year and hope to dream of these delectable treats.

bellagio, como, and around town in general

Sorry for the hiatus. I had a long-awaited visitor to take care of, and we took a little trip to Lago di Como, the town of Bellagio, and generally spent our time enjoying the spring weather and wandering around Milan. Of course now that this very special visitor has left, the sun has disappeared, the clouds rolled in, and any sign of primavera has come and gone. But the past week was beautiful. Bellagio is one of the most beautiful places I have ever been. We rented an apartment for a ridiculously good price and spent our days wandering the streets and feasting on bresaola, bread and the best fresh mozzarella I've ever had. We returned to Milan and indulged in the city's best aperitivi, panini and local trattorie (I considered this a necessary test-run for when my Mom and Aunt come and visit in a week).
There are just too many pictures to load onto the blog, so please check out my snapfish link here.

ladies in fur coats

In every Italian city I visit, I notice there is one dominating fashion trend that I see everywhere. It could just be me - that I only notice particular aspects of la moda italiana when I arrive in Italy, and subsequently associate said trends with the city I happen to be in. However, in my head these particular trends will always be associated with that city. In Florence, it was the pairing of the perfect golden-mustard colored pant with a sleek navy blazer on men. Everywhere I looked, gli uomini fiorentini were sporting this same outfit, and the colors absolutely spot-on.

In Milano, it's ladies with fur coats. I see hundreds of them. They are mostly older women. Usually fur bothers me, but it is just so perfect on these women. It's as if, as a donna milanese, you develop this outer-fur-shell once you hit 65. That's how ubiquitous and fitting these coats are.

I've been trying to capture the essence of the fur coat theme since I arrived in Milano, but I've failed. I tried taking sneaky pictures from behind or across a street, but it doesn't work out. These women demand the whole frame, not to be part of a city back drop. I've contemplated asking them if I could take their picture, but I haven't quite worked up the guts to do it. I came across the above picture today and thought it was the closest I'll ever come to collecting images of ladies in fur coats. I haven't given up, though!

Because of the election for regional government at the end of the month, there are posters up everywhere for different political parties. In Italy, it's more about the party you vote for, rather than the individual. The two strongest parties in Parliament right now are the Partito della Libertà (aka Berlusconi) and the Partito Democratico. Apparently, there has been some sort of scandal in the past few days because ballots (or something) were miscounted. Mirella and her husband, Carlo, were trying to explain it all to me, but between Carlo's intense accento milanese and the two of the speaking at once, I couldn't get the whole story. What I did catch, however, was that apparently Lega Nord, a political party of the far, far right, is associated with the Partito della Libertà, a fact I had not known before.

I know I should research the whole story before I blog about it, but honestly, even if I did, I still wouldn't understand it. Italian politics are incredibly confusing. Plus I'm tired. However, I would like to share a bit of what I've been seeing around the city. The above image is an infamous poster promoting Lega Nord, whose main platform is contro l'immigrazione. It translates to: "They allowed immigration and now they live on reserves!" Besides being radically inaccurate, it's also obviously really offensive and politically incorrect. I can't get started on a whole immgration thing right now (so... tired...), but needless to say, it's a hot topic of political debate in this country. I try to talk to my students as much as I can about this, because I find the Italian perspective of this issue really interesting, especially that of the young generation. Once I collect enough commentary, I'll dedicate a whole post to it.

brrrrr

It is freezing here in Milano today. It is the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and every windchill seems to whisper hibernation into my ear. It's the kind of day where I just want to curl up with a big cup of tea (or, let's be honest, a big glass of vino rosso) and a good book. After my run this morning, I had no intention of leaving the house, but alas I had to teach my Trinity prep class at 2PM.

I love my Tuesday afternoon class. There is a great class dynamic and they all try really hard. We laugh a lot, even if it's just because I'm being ridiculous. And I definitely have my favorites. I don't care if I'm supposed to or not, I do and I love them - we'll just refer to them as D and S. I'm trying to convince two of them to do some sort of summer-abroad study in England because they really have a knack for English. I'm off most of next week because they are all in gita, meaning they are taking a school trip to Madrid. Truth be told, I'll miss them a bit!

And now, back to my book.

La Festa delle Donne

March 8th is a national holiday in Italy called La Festa delle Donne - literally "The Celebration of Women", or, as I like to call it, Ladies' Day. Women carry around mimose, these beautiful little yellow flowers, and everywhere you go, people wish you auguri. It's a really sweet idea.

Flashback to La Festa delle Donne, due anni fa a Firenze:



I went into a bar today to get a cappuccio, and the barista gave me a Bacio di Perugia, those famous little chocolates that come in silver foil with blue stars, to wish me a happy Ladies' Day. They all come with little fortunes in them. Coincidentally, mine said: "Le donne sono fatte per essere amate non per essere comprese". In English: "Women are meant to be loved, not to be understood".

...Thanks. Haha.

In fair Verona

The weather forecast predicted clear skies and beautiful Mediterranean sun for all day Saturday, so I decided to go to Verona. I wanted to see some of the Italy I remember from my Firenze days: Medieval town, winding streets that are impossible to navigate, houses so beautiful it seems impossible that normal people actually live there, etc. Verona is only an hour and a half away by regional train, so to Verona I went.

Verona is very compact, so I spent most of the day just wandering around. It is very close to Venezia, and the palette is very much the same: faded corals, sea-foam greens, and golden, sandy yellows are constant reminders that the sea is not far away.





Of course, I checked out la Casa di Giulietta, with the famous balcony. But what I liked most about Juliet's house were the millions of post-its and graffiti adorning the walls of the entrance: declarations of love from everyone who has ever visited her house. In fact, I found declarations of love all over the city.






I visited some beautiful churches as well:




And some more shots from around Verona:

money, cash, pizza

Today, I got paid.

This is wonderful for two reasons. One... I need to pay my rent. Two, it was my first time getting paid as an official, full-time employee. I've had summer jobs, and odd jobs here and there, and of course, I know the joy of getting a paycheck. But this is my first real job out of college. It felt awesome to have the bank teller hand me my first stipendio (and in Euro, no less!)

I felt I needed to celebrate. I ignored my initial instinct (go gelato-hopping; like bar-hopping, but with gelato) and instead headed to the grocery store to pick up baking supplies. I decided I would make a variation of a pear tart, since I had some pere molto mature, and also pick up the necessary ingredients for granola bars, since my favorite recipe is absolutely fool-proof and they're a great thing to have around.

I'm not going to write out the whole recipe for this tart, I'll just say that I poached the pears in red wine and sugar, caramelized some walnuts, arranged some pasta sfoglia integrale, saved the leftover wine to make a reduction, and poof! I had a tart. I also glazed the top with some honey. This tart is in desparate need of panna, or custard, or something to bind it all together, so I think I will add it when I serve the rest to Mirella (a close, master-baker friend of mine has taught me that the joy of baking is sharing; I half agree, but for the sake of not becoming un grassone, I'll abide for the time being).

vicini di casa

In Italy, walls are thin. It's just one of those things, like how they don't use heat as much, and nobody has a dryer, and you don't drink milk in the afternoon.

When I was living in Isola, the vicino di casa added some charm. He was, as Carlotta so endearingly called him, "un nerd ...carino, però". I could hear him playing endless hours of Mario Kart, crying on the phone to his girlfriend, and singing with his karaoke machine (he favored Lady Gaga).

However, with my newest apartment ... I just don't know how much more I can take. Whoever the family is, they have an awful child. The child is constantly screaming and crying, and not in a necessary way. This ragazzaccio also bangs on the piano, when he/she is not playing "The Way You Look Tonight" over and over. Amidst all this is the constant cry of the mother: "BASTA!!!"

I'm sorry if I'm ranting; usually i ragazzini italiani are just about the cutest things ever. But really, a lonely americana with lots of compiti da corregere can only take so much.

more Bologna pictures

I was in Bologna Saturday night to say goodbye to Chiara before she left for Amsterdam for two months. Here are a couple of pictures.


this pizza was HUGE.