Last night, before dinner Carlo took me to to look out over the city. It was amazing to see Rome from up high, and incredible how much Carlo knows about his city. He pointed out monuments, churches, and many more places which I cannot pronounce. I wonder if I should be embarassed because I am barely soaking in all of this information, but I am taking in what I can. And of course, I have beautifulo scenes to capture with my vision... and my camera.
So dinner was great mostly because of the company. Although I couldn't understand a great portion of what was being said, there lots of smiles and tons of warmth. I also got to talk with a few folks about visiting School Lake and Camp Walden. Plus, the meal was delicious. Mirella suggested the linguine with mushrooms. So good. I am guessing it was a butter sauce with a hint of garlic and hot pepper.
Right after coffee came (Mirella had ordered decaf for me) Carlo said that it was time to go. It felt so abrubt, probably because the 5 minute warning had come in Italian), so I stood up, but Cralo told me I could finish me coffee first. Since the cups are only the size you mihgt give to a doll, it didn't take long. I said my good byes with a kiss on each cheek, and we crossed the street to go the ballet, Casanova.
As we approached, I realized that the stage was standing in the middle of the park. It was a small area with seats, stadium style, uncovered, and small. The ballet itself left something to be desired, but I made subtitles in my head for what might be happening to entertain myself and that definately worked. This is not only my lack of taste speaking either- Carlo said he didn't like it as much as others he had seen there.
We drove back home and shortly went to bed, but first I gave Mirella the thank you gift that my mom (Pam) had pickjed out. Mirella asked if she should wait until Carlo came back from the parking the car, and we agreed that it would be nice to wait. However she changed her mine and opened it anyway. She really loved it. She was smiling and repeated thank you over and over. And I thanked her for letting me stay and showing me around Rome, and she said "I wish you wouldn't leave... so soon." We agreed that next time I should stay longer, and I went to sleep with a melting heart.
But not mealting from the heat! I got an AC upgrade! woohooo. I guess there had been a portable AC, so when Carlo offered it yesterday, I jumped at the chance to have a cool sleep.
I set my alarm, and felt ready to wake up at 9:30. I stretched in my cool room, took a cold shower, and headed into the kitchen for breakfast. The maid, who only speaks Italian had gotten pluots, apricots, cherries, cantalope, and biscotti all ready for me, since I said that fruit was my usual. It was all very good, although the pluot tasted sour after brushing my teeth and especially after that very sweet cantalope.
Then Mirella took me to send a letter. We passed her friend at a cafe, and they schmoozed something about the womans hurt shoulder, we continued on to buy a stamp and send off my note. Then we passed an open air market full of produce, knick knacks, and tourists. Mirella knew some of the people at the market from going there once a week for the past 20 years she explained with a chuckle.
Then I cooled off in my room, had some lunch- more of the yummy same. And now I am waiting either for Nadia to call and tell me to meet her somewhere or for Carlo to get a phone call he is waiting for and take me to the hotel she is at. Whichever comes first. And then it will be a whole other adventure.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
when in rome
I figure while I have such easy access to internet, I might as well use it.
So, Ill start where I left off, with lunch. Mmmm. Mirella made pasta salad with rigfatoni, mozeralla cheese, tomatos, capers, and olives. It was so delicious. Im not sure that everyone knows this, but I do not like olives. I very carefully spooned out my serving trying to avoid them, without looking like I was trying to avoid them. There was one scoop that had an olive right in the middle, so I decided to be a big kid and try it. I still do not like olioves, but I made it through. I even had another that camoflouged itself in my second helping. There was also a bread/ craker with rosemary that was very tastey. After that there was the juciest sweetest cantalope Ive ever tasted, and a couple dark cherries too.
As I helped clear the dishes Mirella asked if I wanted ice cream, but there was absolutely no room. She did insist on making me coffe, and decaf was not a problem. She was quite a stash of all kinds of coffee, and it only took seconds to make in her little espresso machine. I was glad that she offered milk and sugar, because Im not sure if thats the real Italian way, but it was also very very good.
Over lunch, to make conversation and think towards the future of my trip, I asked about the bus system, which Mirella took and generously manipulated into us taking one after lunch... even though it was the hottest part of the day. After we finished, and she changed into a lovely dress, we set off on my first Roma Adventure. It was beautiful.
We took the bus to Villa Burgheese, walked around the tall trees and monuments until we landed at a small cafe. She ordered in Italian and asked me in English what I wanted and propmtly suggest iced tea, which sounded perfect for such a hot day. Then in italian she just ordered two of the same. She pulled out a look cigarette from her bag and said with a smile "I know in America this would be a scandal, but I have a cigarette every once in a while," and we laughed as she lit it.
From there we strolled through different Piazzas and landmarks. Most of which I can not remember because her pronounciation is not something I can say back correctly. However there are some pictures, and I know I saw the famous fountain thats in lots of movies. Plus some catherdrals and lots of government mansions.
We also passed a ton of tourist shops, which were fun to look into. Maybe Ill grab some schwag with fellow tourists later in the trip.
Now is some down time, before dinner and the ballet. Plus Ill be taking another shower. This might not be such an important marker for some, but for me that could tell just as much as a thermometer. Yes, I might even shower 3 times today. Who knows!
all for now and all my love,
Amy
So, Ill start where I left off, with lunch. Mmmm. Mirella made pasta salad with rigfatoni, mozeralla cheese, tomatos, capers, and olives. It was so delicious. Im not sure that everyone knows this, but I do not like olives. I very carefully spooned out my serving trying to avoid them, without looking like I was trying to avoid them. There was one scoop that had an olive right in the middle, so I decided to be a big kid and try it. I still do not like olioves, but I made it through. I even had another that camoflouged itself in my second helping. There was also a bread/ craker with rosemary that was very tastey. After that there was the juciest sweetest cantalope Ive ever tasted, and a couple dark cherries too.
As I helped clear the dishes Mirella asked if I wanted ice cream, but there was absolutely no room. She did insist on making me coffe, and decaf was not a problem. She was quite a stash of all kinds of coffee, and it only took seconds to make in her little espresso machine. I was glad that she offered milk and sugar, because Im not sure if thats the real Italian way, but it was also very very good.
Over lunch, to make conversation and think towards the future of my trip, I asked about the bus system, which Mirella took and generously manipulated into us taking one after lunch... even though it was the hottest part of the day. After we finished, and she changed into a lovely dress, we set off on my first Roma Adventure. It was beautiful.
We took the bus to Villa Burgheese, walked around the tall trees and monuments until we landed at a small cafe. She ordered in Italian and asked me in English what I wanted and propmtly suggest iced tea, which sounded perfect for such a hot day. Then in italian she just ordered two of the same. She pulled out a look cigarette from her bag and said with a smile "I know in America this would be a scandal, but I have a cigarette every once in a while," and we laughed as she lit it.
From there we strolled through different Piazzas and landmarks. Most of which I can not remember because her pronounciation is not something I can say back correctly. However there are some pictures, and I know I saw the famous fountain thats in lots of movies. Plus some catherdrals and lots of government mansions.
We also passed a ton of tourist shops, which were fun to look into. Maybe Ill grab some schwag with fellow tourists later in the trip.
Now is some down time, before dinner and the ballet. Plus Ill be taking another shower. This might not be such an important marker for some, but for me that could tell just as much as a thermometer. Yes, I might even shower 3 times today. Who knows!
all for now and all my love,
Amy
Friday, May 28, 2010
gettin lucky in kentucky (part one)
This is not actually about "gettin lucky in kentucky." Please! My mom reads this blog. However, Brandy had been repeating the slogan for about three weeks before I left, so I'm paying her some homage.
Last weekend was my first time to Pittsburgh, Washington, PA, Cincinnati, and Kentucky. As someone who rarely ventures far from states other than New York and California, you might be wondering "why," and the reason is simple: Sam's cousin was getting married in Northern Kentucky. Before going to the hotel for the wedding on Saturday night, we stopped by Cincinnati to see his sister's apartment and have family lunch at the Cheesecake Factory. The night before, I flew in from Oakland to Pittsburgh (Sam flew in from Denver), and his parents picked us up there. Friday and Sunday night we stayed with Sam's folks at their beautiful home in Washington, PA.
Where to begin...?
I guess I should start from the top.
Exactly a week ago, I was shuffling my Vera Bradley carry-on (a gift from my mom's friend/ boss/ partner in crime, she is a wealthy hippie with a huge house and a huge heart) and my Jeep bag on wheels (a token from Brandy because after I left for a business trip to CO, Tanya TFR took run of the house allowing a stranger in my beg and Aires the Cat to pee in my giant purple duffel on wheels, which all of the Parkers have: Adam, Daniel, Pam, Lee, and even Alyson ended up getting the same ridiculous luggage by chance). The Friendly Cab picked me up, which is a lime green SUV, and it was mainly a non-eventful ride. The driver told me he played volleyball, so he could handle my luggage, no problem. All was quiet until, I get a call from an unknown number which I very rarely pick up, but because of the job search have changed my policy to answering: Hello, this is Amy.
There wasn't a person on the other end of the line I realized, glazed stare out over the highway. Just a recording from Southwest alerting me that my flight won't be taking off until 3. "Shit!" I startled the driver as we exited the highway, and he asked where I was going. "Pittsburgh... I hope" trailing off at the end, and then realized he was asking not out of curiosity, but he wanted to know which of the two terminals to drop me off at. He still seemed a little nervous that I screamed a curse into my cell phone, so I went on "I'm on JetBlue. I have a layover in Vegas, so at least if I don't make it..." and he picked up telling me about how he flew to Toronto for cheap, but now the tickets are expensive or something like that.
I told myself not to get all worked up about missing my layover, having to ask Sam's parents to wait at the airport until 4am, freaking out on the poor soul who was about to think he or she was only needing to assist me in weighing the Jeep bag and tossing it on the belt. I waited in the not-too-long line, noticed the woman monitoring the line was wearing the sneakers that answer the question: What would happen if Richard Simmons and the Spice Girls had a baby? Impressed with myself for maintaining my cool, I asked if those were those new exercise shoes, the same way one of my four grandmas might (I'm picturing Lenore). She said yes, and I continued with a smile "Do you like them?"
"They make my feet swell if I wear them for 8 hours in a row," I smiled before I recognized the complete flatness of her tone. She continued her rounds up and down the line of 15 people or so making sure none of us had printed boarding passes already.
When I actually made my way up to the consul, my palms were damp, and after I told the woman about my predicament she scolded "Too bad you didn't get here earlier. I could have switched you to an earlier flight."
As I fought the urge to slap her, she pulled up something(s) on her screen and called someone else. This Someone Else told her that the flight was back to being on time, because they switched out the flights. I was so relieved that I thanked her, even though it clearly was not her doing and she wasn't very nice either. My phone rang as I made my way through security and the automated voice told me that my flight had moved from 3 to 1:50. Ass holes. A few older women ahead of me in the Southwest A,B,C lineup were appalled by the situation, and seriously concerned that what if someone turned around after hearing the first message. Then What?!?!
I had a layover in Vegas, and put one dollar in the Wheel of Fortune slot in honor of the adventure that was the Summer of 2008. Lenore, Marilyn Reich (Lenore's bff), Alyson, Lisa D and I stayed at the Belagio for a magical week. I called my mom (Alyson) so we could bitch about being in the same place but forced apart by TSA. We discussed a business proposal, which we often do. Everything from bicycling trash to traveling poker lessons.
I also took the liberty of explaining the situation that was my outfit. Afraid that Fred and Sarah Landenwitsch (The Boy's Parents) might think that due to my stint of unemployment that I had become homeless, I thought I should talk it through with my mom (Alyson).
To start, I explained that in Oakland one can often find a rectangular patch sewed over the crotch of someone’s skinny jeans. And not just any someone, but a composting, bike-riding, queer-identified, Do It Yourself enthusiast. These ladies are all about the crotch-patch. So I decided a couple of hours before my flight, with bags slightly packed, to patch my black stretchy jeans. Unfortunately, I only had an off white plaid old collared button down from my dad. And that was the project that became my pants.
Last weekend was my first time to Pittsburgh, Washington, PA, Cincinnati, and Kentucky. As someone who rarely ventures far from states other than New York and California, you might be wondering "why," and the reason is simple: Sam's cousin was getting married in Northern Kentucky. Before going to the hotel for the wedding on Saturday night, we stopped by Cincinnati to see his sister's apartment and have family lunch at the Cheesecake Factory. The night before, I flew in from Oakland to Pittsburgh (Sam flew in from Denver), and his parents picked us up there. Friday and Sunday night we stayed with Sam's folks at their beautiful home in Washington, PA.
Where to begin...?
I guess I should start from the top.
Exactly a week ago, I was shuffling my Vera Bradley carry-on (a gift from my mom's friend/ boss/ partner in crime, she is a wealthy hippie with a huge house and a huge heart) and my Jeep bag on wheels (a token from Brandy because after I left for a business trip to CO, Tanya TFR took run of the house allowing a stranger in my beg and Aires the Cat to pee in my giant purple duffel on wheels, which all of the Parkers have: Adam, Daniel, Pam, Lee, and even Alyson ended up getting the same ridiculous luggage by chance). The Friendly Cab picked me up, which is a lime green SUV, and it was mainly a non-eventful ride. The driver told me he played volleyball, so he could handle my luggage, no problem. All was quiet until, I get a call from an unknown number which I very rarely pick up, but because of the job search have changed my policy to answering: Hello, this is Amy.
There wasn't a person on the other end of the line I realized, glazed stare out over the highway. Just a recording from Southwest alerting me that my flight won't be taking off until 3. "Shit!" I startled the driver as we exited the highway, and he asked where I was going. "Pittsburgh... I hope" trailing off at the end, and then realized he was asking not out of curiosity, but he wanted to know which of the two terminals to drop me off at. He still seemed a little nervous that I screamed a curse into my cell phone, so I went on "I'm on JetBlue. I have a layover in Vegas, so at least if I don't make it..." and he picked up telling me about how he flew to Toronto for cheap, but now the tickets are expensive or something like that.
I told myself not to get all worked up about missing my layover, having to ask Sam's parents to wait at the airport until 4am, freaking out on the poor soul who was about to think he or she was only needing to assist me in weighing the Jeep bag and tossing it on the belt. I waited in the not-too-long line, noticed the woman monitoring the line was wearing the sneakers that answer the question: What would happen if Richard Simmons and the Spice Girls had a baby? Impressed with myself for maintaining my cool, I asked if those were those new exercise shoes, the same way one of my four grandmas might (I'm picturing Lenore). She said yes, and I continued with a smile "Do you like them?"
"They make my feet swell if I wear them for 8 hours in a row," I smiled before I recognized the complete flatness of her tone. She continued her rounds up and down the line of 15 people or so making sure none of us had printed boarding passes already.
When I actually made my way up to the consul, my palms were damp, and after I told the woman about my predicament she scolded "Too bad you didn't get here earlier. I could have switched you to an earlier flight."
As I fought the urge to slap her, she pulled up something(s) on her screen and called someone else. This Someone Else told her that the flight was back to being on time, because they switched out the flights. I was so relieved that I thanked her, even though it clearly was not her doing and she wasn't very nice either. My phone rang as I made my way through security and the automated voice told me that my flight had moved from 3 to 1:50. Ass holes. A few older women ahead of me in the Southwest A,B,C lineup were appalled by the situation, and seriously concerned that what if someone turned around after hearing the first message. Then What?!?!
I had a layover in Vegas, and put one dollar in the Wheel of Fortune slot in honor of the adventure that was the Summer of 2008. Lenore, Marilyn Reich (Lenore's bff), Alyson, Lisa D and I stayed at the Belagio for a magical week. I called my mom (Alyson) so we could bitch about being in the same place but forced apart by TSA. We discussed a business proposal, which we often do. Everything from bicycling trash to traveling poker lessons.
I also took the liberty of explaining the situation that was my outfit. Afraid that Fred and Sarah Landenwitsch (The Boy's Parents) might think that due to my stint of unemployment that I had become homeless, I thought I should talk it through with my mom (Alyson).
To start, I explained that in Oakland one can often find a rectangular patch sewed over the crotch of someone’s skinny jeans. And not just any someone, but a composting, bike-riding, queer-identified, Do It Yourself enthusiast. These ladies are all about the crotch-patch. So I decided a couple of hours before my flight, with bags slightly packed, to patch my black stretchy jeans. Unfortunately, I only had an off white plaid old collared button down from my dad. And that was the project that became my pants.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
the Truth about new haven pizza
There has been a since settled controversy among the Landenwitsches and the Parkers. Sam attempted to make the argument that New Haven pizza was famous. Team Parker (plus Katy Keifer, Lisa D'Agrosa, and other friends of Team Parker) stood strong that New Haven is not famous for anything at all.
After trying said pizza, I wrote an e mail to both teams, so they would know the Truth about New Haven pizza. The e mail went as follows:
Dear family,
You all have heard about and participated in the ongoing debate over Sam's statement regarding the famous-ness of New Haven pizza. Thankfully, and partially due to the support of some of you, Sam realized that even if pizza in New Haven is very good, and even if people who go to Yale think that New Haven pizza is famous, that in fact New Haven, CT just isn't that famous.
(And Sam, thanks for taking this minor defeat so well. We only tease out of love.)
But I am not writing to rub this victory is Sam's face, I am writing to tell you all that just a few short days ago, I tasted New Haven pizza. Sam gave me a short tour around Yale, and then we went to Sally's. It was quite a scene. We waited outside in line for a while, and then waited after we ordered for a while, but from the staff and the old pictures and newspaper clippings on the wall (from CT newspapers 20 years ago... not enough to dub anything "famous") I had the feeling it was going to be worth it.
We had a pizza with mushrooms, and a white pizza with potatoes and rosemary. "Well how was it?!" I'm sure you're wondering if you haven't had the pleasure. Let me tell you, it was very very good. It was good for lunch the next day too.
And that's the Truth about New Haven pizza.
Since I have everyone's attention, I also wanted to say what a wonderful trip I had on the East Coast. Although I was a little sad to leave, I feel very lucky to have such fantastic people to spend my time with. Love you all.
xo,
Amy
____________________________
Then I decided that this was too funny to keep to myself and I should just throw this thing up on yelp. I took out the parts making fun of The Boy (yes, Sam), and about loving all of my friends and family on the east(... which is oh so true and I miss and love everyone) and posted it.
Hours later I received a disgruntled message from someone named "Joe." He did not refute the point that New Have pizza is NOT famous. But he did further prove that people from New Haven/ people who went to Yale/ people who have not left Connecticut are totally out of control. His message was:
Just my 2 cents...I'm going to have to respectfully disagree with that not "famous" remark. New Haven pizza is well known to lots of die hard pizza aficionados "in the know", not just Yalies.
New Haven has a high concentration of decendents from Italy, particularly Naples (my ancesters included), so it's pizza status isn't really a surprise to any of us living in Connecticut. Outsiders aren't usually aware of this demographic fact.
In Ed Levine's recent book Pizza: Slice of Heaven he acknowledges Wooster Street as making some of best in the world. He thinks so highly of New Haven pizza he gives it its own chapter. And Ed is a die hard New Yorker.
Plus, Jeff Varasano is a wildly respected pizza nut and in his list of top pizza places, the only other city than New York City he considers to have top tier pizza is New Haven. And it's not just one place; he considers 3 places in New Haven to be top tier. Also, Jeff says The Food Network ranks Sally's as best in the nation. I'll take his work for it.
http://www.varasanos.com/PizzaRecipe.htm
Every place has its bad days, including Wooster Street, so it may take more than one visit to generate a solid opinion. But I've lived in both New York City and New Haven and I consider New Haven pizza to be better in general. I say "in general" because there is bad pizza to be found everywhere, including in New Haven.
Like I said, respectfully, just my 2 cents :-)
____________________________
Yep.
After trying said pizza, I wrote an e mail to both teams, so they would know the Truth about New Haven pizza. The e mail went as follows:
Dear family,
You all have heard about and participated in the ongoing debate over Sam's statement regarding the famous-ness of New Haven pizza. Thankfully, and partially due to the support of some of you, Sam realized that even if pizza in New Haven is very good, and even if people who go to Yale think that New Haven pizza is famous, that in fact New Haven, CT just isn't that famous.
(And Sam, thanks for taking this minor defeat so well. We only tease out of love.)
But I am not writing to rub this victory is Sam's face, I am writing to tell you all that just a few short days ago, I tasted New Haven pizza. Sam gave me a short tour around Yale, and then we went to Sally's. It was quite a scene. We waited outside in line for a while, and then waited after we ordered for a while, but from the staff and the old pictures and newspaper clippings on the wall (from CT newspapers 20 years ago... not enough to dub anything "famous") I had the feeling it was going to be worth it.
We had a pizza with mushrooms, and a white pizza with potatoes and rosemary. "Well how was it?!" I'm sure you're wondering if you haven't had the pleasure. Let me tell you, it was very very good. It was good for lunch the next day too.
And that's the Truth about New Haven pizza.
Since I have everyone's attention, I also wanted to say what a wonderful trip I had on the East Coast. Although I was a little sad to leave, I feel very lucky to have such fantastic people to spend my time with. Love you all.
xo,
Amy
____________________________
Then I decided that this was too funny to keep to myself and I should just throw this thing up on yelp. I took out the parts making fun of The Boy (yes, Sam), and about loving all of my friends and family on the east(... which is oh so true and I miss and love everyone) and posted it.
Hours later I received a disgruntled message from someone named "Joe." He did not refute the point that New Have pizza is NOT famous. But he did further prove that people from New Haven/ people who went to Yale/ people who have not left Connecticut are totally out of control. His message was:
Just my 2 cents...I'm going to have to respectfully disagree with that not "famous" remark. New Haven pizza is well known to lots of die hard pizza aficionados "in the know", not just Yalies.
New Haven has a high concentration of decendents from Italy, particularly Naples (my ancesters included), so it's pizza status isn't really a surprise to any of us living in Connecticut. Outsiders aren't usually aware of this demographic fact.
In Ed Levine's recent book Pizza: Slice of Heaven he acknowledges Wooster Street as making some of best in the world. He thinks so highly of New Haven pizza he gives it its own chapter. And Ed is a die hard New Yorker.
Plus, Jeff Varasano is a wildly respected pizza nut and in his list of top pizza places, the only other city than New York City he considers to have top tier pizza is New Haven. And it's not just one place; he considers 3 places in New Haven to be top tier. Also, Jeff says The Food Network ranks Sally's as best in the nation. I'll take his work for it.
http://www.varasanos.com/PizzaRecipe.htm
Every place has its bad days, including Wooster Street, so it may take more than one visit to generate a solid opinion. But I've lived in both New York City and New Haven and I consider New Haven pizza to be better in general. I say "in general" because there is bad pizza to be found everywhere, including in New Haven.
Like I said, respectfully, just my 2 cents :-)
____________________________
Yep.
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