Friday was a tough day for us. We woke up a bit later than planned after having a lot more wine than planned the night before. We had about a 2.5 hour drive to Naples to then catch a 1 hour ferry to Ischia for our weekend excursion. Our drive ended up taking closer to 3.5 hours, which made us miss the 1pm ferry, so we didn't make it to the island until 3, and once we did our fly by the seat of your pants planning sent us to Florio, the island's most "bumping" town.
It was not bumping. Instead, Florio was both very crowded and very very very closed. One could imagine it's an awesome summer destination with all the cool beach side bars and restaurants, but unfortunately for us, our options were basically nothing. We had hoped we could knock out a hike from Florio for the afternoon, but made it there without any info on hikes, and everyone we asked was (1) not helpful (2) not helpful and (3) not helpful. So instead we set up at a bar to have some drinks and snacks. Liza asked the owner, Rachel, if it was happy hour time, and she said, "ehhhhhh.....I guess." After an aracini and some beers, we moved to another bar down the street called Violet that we choose for one really great reason: it was the only other place in town that was open. Inside the person that I have to assume was Violet was alternating between yelling into her cell phone and setting up various perfumes to sell to her customers (the only of whom were us) and giving us a random assortment of snacks. To try to describe the bar and the proprietor as anything but weird would be an understatement. So at that point we decided to get the fuck out of Forio and head to Ischia Ponte to have dinner by the castle. And you'll never EVER guess this, but in Ischia Ponte -- EVERYTHING WAS ALSO CLOSED. Italians take their tourist seasons very seriously.
We finally found the only open restaurant in town (we know this because pretty much the entire town was there) and had a great seafood dinner - some anchovies and some octopus and some mussels. And feeling slightly more energized we made the last trek to our apartment in the hills, which had been rented for the weekend by some of Liza's colleagues to celebrate a 30th birthday. These colleagues (and their beaus) were a mix of German, Croatian, British and Cyprus-ean (??). As I had looked for places in Ischia to stay, all of them just had that grandma's house vibe of randoms decor and old sheets. But all of them had one thing in common, including our villa - a ridiculous view. The international crew went into town for dinner, and Liza and I stayed in and crashed early. It was at this point that I realized the root of our long difficult day - IT WAS FRIDAY THE F---ING 13TH!!!!!!!!!! But as Kelly Clarkson once said, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" (and also "since you been gone" and other good stuff)
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Saturday, February 14, 2015
So. Much. Learning.
At some point since this week, Liza was prattling off a list of suggestions of things for me to do in Rome while she was at work on Thursday. I wasn't really listening (as per usual) until she said, "great, you're all booked!" Well shit.
What she booked me for was a free bike tour of Rome with a company started by two friends of friends of theirs. The company is called Free Bike Tour Rome. They spent a lot of time working on that. The tour is completely free, you just have to show up at the meeting point with a bike (if not, they'll help you rent one at a discount), and then give the guys a tip at the end. The two tour guides, Simone and Lorenzo, used to lead tours for one of the bigger companies (and in fact, Simone left early to go lead a segway tour -- which he leads from his bike, not a stupid segway) but they wanted to have more flexibility to go places other than the usual tourist hot spots. I thought I was going to get a personalized two-on-one tour, but a chick from the Czech Republic came along as well sadly. That bitch.
We started at the Coliseum because you can't do a tour in Rome without seeing that, but they showed a different side of it, focusing on how the Coliseum became a rock quarry after it was closed. Rocks from the facade were used in buildings and on streets all over town, so you never know if you might be stepping on or looking at a piece of the Coliseum (learning!). From there we went to a museum inside part of the walls of Rome, and learned about Roman miles; down the Appia way a bit; to the pyramid (built in 333 days because the person it was built to honor said it had to be done in that time otherwise no inheritance - LEARNING); to the Bocca Della Verité (which was a sewage cover - LEARNING), to the original town center and the only statue in the city that has an Emperor (Marcus Aurelius) on it that wasn't melted down by facists (LEARNING); a whole bunch of facist architecture (and sidebar, gotta say, facism doesn't sound totally terrible - LEARNING KIND OF); to a basilica with the first wooden doors in the world (according to who, I'm not sure); and a church where the first ever mass was held (again, according to who i'm not sure). And I know I'm forgetting some spots for sure. It was awesome, and highly recommend if you're here.
After my tour, I got tourist trapped and romed the streets for a few hours until Liza was done with work. Saw the usual faves - Pantheon, Piazza Navona (and went inside the church there for the first time which was gorgeous), Campo di Fieri, etc etc etc. The thing that is most hilarious about Rome at the moment is that there are about 9 million guys out selling selfie sticks. It's insane. I thought i was being so special brining mine, but not so much.
Liza and I walked home from her work, had some wine, and then headed out for drinks and dinner in Pigneto (which means "little pines," and is the Brooklyn of Rome). We had some wine and waited for her friends to join us, before heading to her favorite restaurant in town, Porchettone. It's here I think I had the finest meal of my goddam life - the house specialty of gnocchi with 'nduja & pesto. 'Nduja is like a spicy sausage in oil and it's so fucking good you don't even know it. Liza had gricia which is like carbonara but without the egg, and that too was one of the best dishes I've ever had. We also had a starter with three types of mozzarella and some porchetta. I cannot tell you how good this meal was, and (with wine) it was 70e for four of us. INCREDIBLE. We ended the night with some wine at another bar down the street, and at that point Liza, NOT ME JUST HER, was getting drunk and still had to drive us home. Once we got there we split a bottle of Lambrusco from Parma, because why not. And on Friday morning I may have had some other ideas about why not - ouch.
What she booked me for was a free bike tour of Rome with a company started by two friends of friends of theirs. The company is called Free Bike Tour Rome. They spent a lot of time working on that. The tour is completely free, you just have to show up at the meeting point with a bike (if not, they'll help you rent one at a discount), and then give the guys a tip at the end. The two tour guides, Simone and Lorenzo, used to lead tours for one of the bigger companies (and in fact, Simone left early to go lead a segway tour -- which he leads from his bike, not a stupid segway) but they wanted to have more flexibility to go places other than the usual tourist hot spots. I thought I was going to get a personalized two-on-one tour, but a chick from the Czech Republic came along as well sadly. That bitch.
We started at the Coliseum because you can't do a tour in Rome without seeing that, but they showed a different side of it, focusing on how the Coliseum became a rock quarry after it was closed. Rocks from the facade were used in buildings and on streets all over town, so you never know if you might be stepping on or looking at a piece of the Coliseum (learning!). From there we went to a museum inside part of the walls of Rome, and learned about Roman miles; down the Appia way a bit; to the pyramid (built in 333 days because the person it was built to honor said it had to be done in that time otherwise no inheritance - LEARNING); to the Bocca Della Verité (which was a sewage cover - LEARNING), to the original town center and the only statue in the city that has an Emperor (Marcus Aurelius) on it that wasn't melted down by facists (LEARNING); a whole bunch of facist architecture (and sidebar, gotta say, facism doesn't sound totally terrible - LEARNING KIND OF); to a basilica with the first wooden doors in the world (according to who, I'm not sure); and a church where the first ever mass was held (again, according to who i'm not sure). And I know I'm forgetting some spots for sure. It was awesome, and highly recommend if you're here.
After my tour, I got tourist trapped and romed the streets for a few hours until Liza was done with work. Saw the usual faves - Pantheon, Piazza Navona (and went inside the church there for the first time which was gorgeous), Campo di Fieri, etc etc etc. The thing that is most hilarious about Rome at the moment is that there are about 9 million guys out selling selfie sticks. It's insane. I thought i was being so special brining mine, but not so much.
Liza and I walked home from her work, had some wine, and then headed out for drinks and dinner in Pigneto (which means "little pines," and is the Brooklyn of Rome). We had some wine and waited for her friends to join us, before heading to her favorite restaurant in town, Porchettone. It's here I think I had the finest meal of my goddam life - the house specialty of gnocchi with 'nduja & pesto. 'Nduja is like a spicy sausage in oil and it's so fucking good you don't even know it. Liza had gricia which is like carbonara but without the egg, and that too was one of the best dishes I've ever had. We also had a starter with three types of mozzarella and some porchetta. I cannot tell you how good this meal was, and (with wine) it was 70e for four of us. INCREDIBLE. We ended the night with some wine at another bar down the street, and at that point Liza, NOT ME JUST HER, was getting drunk and still had to drive us home. Once we got there we split a bottle of Lambrusco from Parma, because why not. And on Friday morning I may have had some other ideas about why not - ouch.
Friday, February 13, 2015
Hey, Cinque Terre...I'm gonna give you a Pisa my mind
I'm a few days/cities behind, so apologies to both readers.
Wednesday morning we left Parma FOREVER. Though we were actually sad to leave, Liza will not miss the process of getting out of the city...it's a constant hassle and I'm pretty sure we have about 5 tickets coming our way. While looking for potential wineries, we discovered that Cinque Terre is not that far away, and since I've never been, it would make a nice little excursion. So off we drove to the coast. Our first stop was the first of the five towns, Riomaggiore. It was here that our gas light came on. We parked and made our way down to the start of the first part of the trail, known as lovers lane. What an ideal spot to continue our pre-Valentines Day vacation. We had a wonderful walk down the coastline to Manarolo, where we caught the train to Vernazza,* which is Rick Steves' favorite city in his favorite destination in all of Italy. The city was hit very hard by some mudslides in 2011 (sidebar - less than a month after Liza last visited. Coincidence!?) and, in the classic Italian way, they are still recovering. We had an awesome lunch at the marina, including anchioves three ways, pesto on trofie pasta (pesto is the signature dish of this area), and a seafood spaghetti.
At lunch, the most irritating humans alive were sitting directly across from me. They are this year's "browns." I could barely focus on Liza because I was so intent on listening to the terrible stories they were telling the random hikers they'd met after missing the train. It was a train wreck. A wonderful train wreck. After lunch we hopped back on the train, headed back to Riomaggiore, and then drove back inland to continue the journey.*
*Okay, so actually very little of this is true. Lovers Lane was closed so we drove to Vernazza and back. All with the gas light on because there are no gas stations in that area. I like saying we ran out of gas. Liza does not. BUT OH MY THE ADVENTURE!
As we laid out our trek home, one thing became unfortunately clear...that we'd have to drive right past Pisa. And, that f-ing sucked because it meant we had to turn in and go see the leaning tower. Terrible. Such an inconvenience. Then again, maybe not...
The guidebooks all say that too many tourists pay attention only to the tower (which was leaning from the start, BTW), and not the other amazing buildings in the "Field of Miracles." We were also those tourists. One track mind - get a baller photo, and get the hell out of there. Those other buildings seemed pretty nice as we walked around to find the best vantage point. Possibly my favorite part was the row of eight ambulances parked at the exit of the Duomo that, shortly after our arrival, were swarmed with the elderly as they emerged from services. It was like playing a really sad game of dodge ball.
Once we were satisfied we hit the road again. Destination: Roma. It was a late evening arrival to Liza's apartment, which she shares with her Italian rock star. On the way she described it in depth to me, and by the end I was imagining a Fascist's apartment filled with cat knick-knacks. As we pulled into her garage she said, "oh did I tell you there's a castle on the other side of our terrace? And sure as shit there's a castle on the other side of the wall from her terrace. The cat bank gets A billing, but the castle is below the fold. Typical. We cooked up some of the leftover tortelli from our cooking class, and put another day in the books (or in the blog...two days later).
Wednesday morning we left Parma FOREVER. Though we were actually sad to leave, Liza will not miss the process of getting out of the city...it's a constant hassle and I'm pretty sure we have about 5 tickets coming our way. While looking for potential wineries, we discovered that Cinque Terre is not that far away, and since I've never been, it would make a nice little excursion. So off we drove to the coast. Our first stop was the first of the five towns, Riomaggiore. It was here that our gas light came on. We parked and made our way down to the start of the first part of the trail, known as lovers lane. What an ideal spot to continue our pre-Valentines Day vacation. We had a wonderful walk down the coastline to Manarolo, where we caught the train to Vernazza,* which is Rick Steves' favorite city in his favorite destination in all of Italy. The city was hit very hard by some mudslides in 2011 (sidebar - less than a month after Liza last visited. Coincidence!?) and, in the classic Italian way, they are still recovering. We had an awesome lunch at the marina, including anchioves three ways, pesto on trofie pasta (pesto is the signature dish of this area), and a seafood spaghetti.
At lunch, the most irritating humans alive were sitting directly across from me. They are this year's "browns." I could barely focus on Liza because I was so intent on listening to the terrible stories they were telling the random hikers they'd met after missing the train. It was a train wreck. A wonderful train wreck. After lunch we hopped back on the train, headed back to Riomaggiore, and then drove back inland to continue the journey.*
*Okay, so actually very little of this is true. Lovers Lane was closed so we drove to Vernazza and back. All with the gas light on because there are no gas stations in that area. I like saying we ran out of gas. Liza does not. BUT OH MY THE ADVENTURE!
As we laid out our trek home, one thing became unfortunately clear...that we'd have to drive right past Pisa. And, that f-ing sucked because it meant we had to turn in and go see the leaning tower. Terrible. Such an inconvenience. Then again, maybe not...
The guidebooks all say that too many tourists pay attention only to the tower (which was leaning from the start, BTW), and not the other amazing buildings in the "Field of Miracles." We were also those tourists. One track mind - get a baller photo, and get the hell out of there. Those other buildings seemed pretty nice as we walked around to find the best vantage point. Possibly my favorite part was the row of eight ambulances parked at the exit of the Duomo that, shortly after our arrival, were swarmed with the elderly as they emerged from services. It was like playing a really sad game of dodge ball.
Once we were satisfied we hit the road again. Destination: Roma. It was a late evening arrival to Liza's apartment, which she shares with her Italian rock star. On the way she described it in depth to me, and by the end I was imagining a Fascist's apartment filled with cat knick-knacks. As we pulled into her garage she said, "oh did I tell you there's a castle on the other side of our terrace? And sure as shit there's a castle on the other side of the wall from her terrace. The cat bank gets A billing, but the castle is below the fold. Typical. We cooked up some of the leftover tortelli from our cooking class, and put another day in the books (or in the blog...two days later).
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Deep in the Ariola
Three amazing things happened today:
1 - we had an incredible winery tour and another stellar lunch
2 - we had an awesome cooking class in the home of a nice Italian lady who spoke no English
3 - we slept until 10:40
#3 threw the whole day for a loop, but obviously it worked out pretty nicely. And while there was an initial round of guilt for having wasted a couple extra hours of vacation time sleeping, we reminded ourselves that THIS WAS VACATION.
Our initial plan had been to drive to Bologna to attend Gelato University, where we'd learn how to make (guess what) gelato. But the extra hours of sleep didn't give us enough time to get there and back for our 3 pm cooking class so we interneted around until we found an alternative.
That alternative was a visit to Ariola Vini. Laugh it up. Our guide's name was Marco and he showed us through the cellar where they keep the bottles for daily turning during the fermentation process. But of course, that's not where they actually make the wine anymore because everything is done by goddam machines in a goddam factory. From there he showed us his fermentation tanks, a process that most people say was invented by a French dude, but in Italy they say it was created by an Italian who didn't patent it, and the French dude stole it. Further proof that the French are assholes (or that the Italians are stupid and will believe anything). The final stop was the bottling line, which was super impressive, and again, I don't understand how it's possible to create machines that do such specific jobs as putting the cap on sparkling wine, or removing the condensation from bottles, etc.
We then headed into their restaurant for lunch, which was (SURPRISE) a tasting of hams and cheeses, alongside a tasting of three of the wines from the property. Liza and I have decided that we aren't a huge fan of the lambrusco red sparking wine, but that the white sparkling wine is on point. I think that might be because, you know, it's almost champagne, but maybe there's some other reason I totally don't even know about. (sidebar - we also learned the difference between spumante and frizzante. I will wow you with this information on my return). In addition to the red and white sparkling, we had a wine that is made from grapes that are harvested late, which was sort of like a lighter port, followed by an apertif made from wild berries from the area. Liza loved it and asked about buying, and they told us it was not available for sale, no ma'am, can't buy it, it's illegal because they are not authorized to sell. And then Marco slipped a bottle into our box of wine, along with two other mini bottles as "gifts."
We went straight from Ariola (laugh it up) to our cooking class with Luisa, a friend of a friend of Amalda's, our food tour guide. Liza and I searched high and low for cooking classes, and couldn't find one that was less than 150e each. Luisa's price was right, she showed us how to cook what we told her we wanted to learn, and there was just something crazy cool about being in some random Italian lady's kitchen making pasta. Her stepson Fabio (laugh it up) loitered around for the first bit to help with the translation, but Liza's was so good, he convinced Luisa to let him leave to drive back to Rome (sidebar: by the end of our class, Luisa, who was so freaking impressed I worked for Natty G, was insisting he'd take us to dinner in Rome. We'll see). Together we made the torta frita bread and tortelli stuffed with ricotta and spinach, with a butter and parmesan sauce. It was not only so yummy, it was so damn easy. The hardest part is that it takes so much energy (Liza dislocated her shoulder) and time to get your pasta rolled out thin enough. But put Vanderpump Rules on in front of me, and I'll roll that pasta till the end of time.
Having eaten our pasta at 6 pm, neither of us was terribly hungry for dinner (a decision i'm currently regretting) so instead we found a wine bar nearby to have some drinks. At Tabarro, where we'd been drinking the previous two nights, most wine was 7e (if not more). Here, we asked the nice owner for her recommendation, and she recommended (OF COURSE) the most expensive wine on their list. Which cost 2.5e. We were super content until we saw a plate of ham go by and realized we really had to have that too, so you know what WE DID. When in Parma, ham it up, you know!? Night ended with a nightcap at the pub. No free french fries this time though. Jerks.
1 - we had an incredible winery tour and another stellar lunch
2 - we had an awesome cooking class in the home of a nice Italian lady who spoke no English
3 - we slept until 10:40
#3 threw the whole day for a loop, but obviously it worked out pretty nicely. And while there was an initial round of guilt for having wasted a couple extra hours of vacation time sleeping, we reminded ourselves that THIS WAS VACATION.
Our initial plan had been to drive to Bologna to attend Gelato University, where we'd learn how to make (guess what) gelato. But the extra hours of sleep didn't give us enough time to get there and back for our 3 pm cooking class so we interneted around until we found an alternative.
That alternative was a visit to Ariola Vini. Laugh it up. Our guide's name was Marco and he showed us through the cellar where they keep the bottles for daily turning during the fermentation process. But of course, that's not where they actually make the wine anymore because everything is done by goddam machines in a goddam factory. From there he showed us his fermentation tanks, a process that most people say was invented by a French dude, but in Italy they say it was created by an Italian who didn't patent it, and the French dude stole it. Further proof that the French are assholes (or that the Italians are stupid and will believe anything). The final stop was the bottling line, which was super impressive, and again, I don't understand how it's possible to create machines that do such specific jobs as putting the cap on sparkling wine, or removing the condensation from bottles, etc.
We then headed into their restaurant for lunch, which was (SURPRISE) a tasting of hams and cheeses, alongside a tasting of three of the wines from the property. Liza and I have decided that we aren't a huge fan of the lambrusco red sparking wine, but that the white sparkling wine is on point. I think that might be because, you know, it's almost champagne, but maybe there's some other reason I totally don't even know about. (sidebar - we also learned the difference between spumante and frizzante. I will wow you with this information on my return). In addition to the red and white sparkling, we had a wine that is made from grapes that are harvested late, which was sort of like a lighter port, followed by an apertif made from wild berries from the area. Liza loved it and asked about buying, and they told us it was not available for sale, no ma'am, can't buy it, it's illegal because they are not authorized to sell. And then Marco slipped a bottle into our box of wine, along with two other mini bottles as "gifts."
We went straight from Ariola (laugh it up) to our cooking class with Luisa, a friend of a friend of Amalda's, our food tour guide. Liza and I searched high and low for cooking classes, and couldn't find one that was less than 150e each. Luisa's price was right, she showed us how to cook what we told her we wanted to learn, and there was just something crazy cool about being in some random Italian lady's kitchen making pasta. Her stepson Fabio (laugh it up) loitered around for the first bit to help with the translation, but Liza's was so good, he convinced Luisa to let him leave to drive back to Rome (sidebar: by the end of our class, Luisa, who was so freaking impressed I worked for Natty G, was insisting he'd take us to dinner in Rome. We'll see). Together we made the torta frita bread and tortelli stuffed with ricotta and spinach, with a butter and parmesan sauce. It was not only so yummy, it was so damn easy. The hardest part is that it takes so much energy (Liza dislocated her shoulder) and time to get your pasta rolled out thin enough. But put Vanderpump Rules on in front of me, and I'll roll that pasta till the end of time.
Having eaten our pasta at 6 pm, neither of us was terribly hungry for dinner (a decision i'm currently regretting) so instead we found a wine bar nearby to have some drinks. At Tabarro, where we'd been drinking the previous two nights, most wine was 7e (if not more). Here, we asked the nice owner for her recommendation, and she recommended (OF COURSE) the most expensive wine on their list. Which cost 2.5e. We were super content until we saw a plate of ham go by and realized we really had to have that too, so you know what WE DID. When in Parma, ham it up, you know!? Night ended with a nightcap at the pub. No free french fries this time though. Jerks.
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Food and food and more food
I heart European breakfast
The butcher of Panzano
Dream man (and please note the awkward bulge)
Look at that enormous cock
Parma Ham: Older Than Jesus Christ
As mentioned, Monday was all about experiencing Parma's finest products: parmesan, prosciutto and balsamic vinegar. We booked a tour that would take us to makers of each, and our guide was named Amalda (which Liza could never remember. Esmeralda?). We were a little nervous when the night before they asked if it was okay for her to ride in our car, but thankfully she was very pleasant.
First stop, parmesan factory. The thing that distinguishes parmesan factories from the other regional specialties is that they have to work every day. Ham and balsalmic makers -- way lazy. But because parmesan uses a steady cycle of milk and whey, they do the same routine every morning. The giant cheese curds that start the process weigh 90 kg, which means the guys on the floor are built like no one's business. Let that be a lesson to you - if you're on match.com and someone says they work in parmesan factory, they're going to have a hot bod. We got to try some of the cheese right out of the vats, and before it takes its 2 week salt bath, it tastes pretty much like mozarella. We also got to taste some fresh ricotta that was literally 3 steps away from the cow, and though I've always said ricotta was my least favorite cheese, turns out I like it when you can still see the cow in the distance.
Second stop, prosciutto factory. There is a letter from a Roman noble from 100 BC mentioning the ham of Parma, so it is NO LIE older than Jesus. We lucked out that we were taking our tour on a Monday because apparently that's the only day the guys work in the factory. And that's because when it comes to prosciutto, there really isn't much to do. It's salted, massaged, salted, massaged, salted and then hung in various rooms at various temperatures for various times (sidebar: they now have a machine that massages the hams, but in the old days there was a person whose job it was to give the hams a rub down. Jealousy). The only other job of note is that late in the process a person comes and rubs this fat and flour concoction on the exposed part of the ham to preserve it for the final stage. To be honest, there's nothing that interesting about the entire process, but as a couple gals who love a salted meat, we were in hog heaven. (ZING!)
We stopped at a lambrusco vineyard for a 6-course lunch (for 25e) that included many of the products typical to the area (and good news - Amalda watches all the best American TV shows), did a quick photo opp at a castle and then hit balsamic factory. (sidebar, there is another castle in this area that has been owned by same family since the 14th century, and the current owner has no heir. In other words, goodbye America). Again, there isn't really anything interesting about the balsamic process, so not worth noting, but we tasted four varieties, the cheapest being 16e and the most expensive, aged 25 years, is 95e. I know it's hard to imagine that there is balsalmic vinegar in the world that's older than I am, but try your best.
And then we fi.na.ly arrived back in Parma. Our tour was supposed to end at 3:30, but it actually ended at 5. Amalda, though awesome, was a tad on the slow side, and while having her in the car with us was fine, I tapped out pretty early on with the small talk and left it for Liza to deal with. I am aware this is f-ed up. We recouped a bit at our apartment and then had drinks at our favorite wine bar (that's not so much our favorite any more) followed by dinner at a restaurant Amalda recommended. I decided pasta twice a day for three days was overkill so opted for a lighter carpaccio salad with some local parmesan. Liza had horsemeat. She did. And you know what? It was fucking delicious. We ended our evening with some pints of local beer at a pub in our hood. The bartender bought us shots, and then tried to buy us french fries as well, but we're too sophisticated for that.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Butcher saves the day
I can't believe I was at work yesterday(?)
I don't know what day it is or who you are but hi? Arrived safe and sound to Rome Saturday morning (afternoon?) with little fanfare (except that it was from the same JFK terminal from which I flew to Morocco, so I had minor PTSD). I also watched The Fugitive twice, which made the whole airfare worth it. HE DIDN'T KILL HIS WIFE.
Liza met me at the airport, and after spending 10 minutes trying to exit through the Telepass lane, we hit the road for Tuscany. I still don't know the name of the actual town we stayed in except that it started with Monte so I loved it. We settled in (i.e. I changed out of the clothes I had been wearing for an unknown number of days) and headed into Cortona for happy hour. The nice lady at our hotel (we'll call her Lucia) told us that there were lots of nice places to have a drink there but if we wanted some action we should go to Arezzo.
And damn, she wasn't joking. Cortona was quaint but deserted. Liza and I settled into an enteca and had a couple glasses of Prosecco to officially kick off our sixth vakay (sidebar: how can you not love a country that respects a happy hour), and then wandered around the (again, completely deserted) town to find a spot for dinner. No restaurant had more than 3 people in it. So we settled instead for a beer at small pub serving only Italian beers, and then moved on to Arezzo.
Arriving in Arezzo from Cortona would be like arriving into New Orleans from Beaumont. The streets were packed and everyone seemed 16 years old. We found a local hot spot that did not disappoint. I had some wild boar ragu with pici pasta (the typical pasta of Tuscany) and Liza had some duck (a typical dish of Arezzo) and both were on point (sidebar: I love how much Italians use the word "typical"). We asked our waiter if there was a university nearby to explain the youth roaming the city and he kindly explained that a US university had a study abroad program in town. And that university...was OU.
Those f***ing jerks.
DESPITE THESE MAJOR MINUS POINTS, Arezzo was pretty freaking awesome.
SUNDAY, we got up early to grab free breakfast at our free hotel (sidebar: I love European breakfast so much) and make a plan...which was easy because the plan was just "drive through Chianti region and eat and drink." Now I came to Italy in February fully realizing and expecting that places would be closed for the low season. So it wasn't unexpected that pretty much every place we tried was closed (some even for just the two weeks that I'm here). But, the universe made for this when we the random Chianti town we stopped in, Panzano, just happened to be home to Tuscany's finest butcher. Which Liza just happened to remember. After we stopped. And walked down a random street. And heard music pounding. And saw a huge crowd. And found free food. Etc. Etc. Etc.
Antica Macelleria Cecchini is basically the hottest spot in the whole region, and we found it by 120% by accident. There was an array of meets and bread and lardo set out and people walking around handing out wine. We're pretty sure that this was not intended for randoms off the street like us, but for people who actually had a reservation for lunch, but we bought some products to save face. It was the highlight of the day.
Oh, except for how we had virgin cow carpaccio for lunch in Greve.
So by 5 pm we made it to Parma, and after a Spritz landed in our apartment (managed by an Italian who lived in Philly for 10 years). We are right in the middle of town, and thus in walking distance to every single recommended restaurant in every single book and/or web site we can find. We ventured to Tabaro, an awesome wine bar for a late apertivo/hh (including one of the best rosés I've ever had in my life), before hitting up Corrieri for dinner. Now, on the one hand I know that I will be eating parmesan and prosciutto for the next three days, so i shouldn't feel pressured to have it at every meal. But I was. And I did. And it was worth it.
Liza and I split an order of tort misto (fried puffy bread that's like little puffs of heaven) and a mixed plate of ham, then she had a trio of tortolini and I had a pasta with arugula and prosciutto and parmesan, which basically combined all of my favorite foods. If every meal stacks up to that one, I will need two seats for the flight home.
And now we're at our apartment drinking wine and watching Fallon's SBTB reunion sketch. Friends Forever yall. Monday's plan: food tour. OMG TERRIBLE.
I don't know what day it is or who you are but hi? Arrived safe and sound to Rome Saturday morning (afternoon?) with little fanfare (except that it was from the same JFK terminal from which I flew to Morocco, so I had minor PTSD). I also watched The Fugitive twice, which made the whole airfare worth it. HE DIDN'T KILL HIS WIFE.
Liza met me at the airport, and after spending 10 minutes trying to exit through the Telepass lane, we hit the road for Tuscany. I still don't know the name of the actual town we stayed in except that it started with Monte so I loved it. We settled in (i.e. I changed out of the clothes I had been wearing for an unknown number of days) and headed into Cortona for happy hour. The nice lady at our hotel (we'll call her Lucia) told us that there were lots of nice places to have a drink there but if we wanted some action we should go to Arezzo.
And damn, she wasn't joking. Cortona was quaint but deserted. Liza and I settled into an enteca and had a couple glasses of Prosecco to officially kick off our sixth vakay (sidebar: how can you not love a country that respects a happy hour), and then wandered around the (again, completely deserted) town to find a spot for dinner. No restaurant had more than 3 people in it. So we settled instead for a beer at small pub serving only Italian beers, and then moved on to Arezzo.
Arriving in Arezzo from Cortona would be like arriving into New Orleans from Beaumont. The streets were packed and everyone seemed 16 years old. We found a local hot spot that did not disappoint. I had some wild boar ragu with pici pasta (the typical pasta of Tuscany) and Liza had some duck (a typical dish of Arezzo) and both were on point (sidebar: I love how much Italians use the word "typical"). We asked our waiter if there was a university nearby to explain the youth roaming the city and he kindly explained that a US university had a study abroad program in town. And that university...was OU.
Those f***ing jerks.
DESPITE THESE MAJOR MINUS POINTS, Arezzo was pretty freaking awesome.
SUNDAY, we got up early to grab free breakfast at our free hotel (sidebar: I love European breakfast so much) and make a plan...which was easy because the plan was just "drive through Chianti region and eat and drink." Now I came to Italy in February fully realizing and expecting that places would be closed for the low season. So it wasn't unexpected that pretty much every place we tried was closed (some even for just the two weeks that I'm here). But, the universe made for this when we the random Chianti town we stopped in, Panzano, just happened to be home to Tuscany's finest butcher. Which Liza just happened to remember. After we stopped. And walked down a random street. And heard music pounding. And saw a huge crowd. And found free food. Etc. Etc. Etc.
Antica Macelleria Cecchini is basically the hottest spot in the whole region, and we found it by 120% by accident. There was an array of meets and bread and lardo set out and people walking around handing out wine. We're pretty sure that this was not intended for randoms off the street like us, but for people who actually had a reservation for lunch, but we bought some products to save face. It was the highlight of the day.
Oh, except for how we had virgin cow carpaccio for lunch in Greve.
So by 5 pm we made it to Parma, and after a Spritz landed in our apartment (managed by an Italian who lived in Philly for 10 years). We are right in the middle of town, and thus in walking distance to every single recommended restaurant in every single book and/or web site we can find. We ventured to Tabaro, an awesome wine bar for a late apertivo/hh (including one of the best rosés I've ever had in my life), before hitting up Corrieri for dinner. Now, on the one hand I know that I will be eating parmesan and prosciutto for the next three days, so i shouldn't feel pressured to have it at every meal. But I was. And I did. And it was worth it.
Liza and I split an order of tort misto (fried puffy bread that's like little puffs of heaven) and a mixed plate of ham, then she had a trio of tortolini and I had a pasta with arugula and prosciutto and parmesan, which basically combined all of my favorite foods. If every meal stacks up to that one, I will need two seats for the flight home.
And now we're at our apartment drinking wine and watching Fallon's SBTB reunion sketch. Friends Forever yall. Monday's plan: food tour. OMG TERRIBLE.
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