The First Constitution

It's strange that my brain is still on a school year calendar, even though I've been in Italy, and working, since 2006. Now that we're on the border between spring and summer, I feel like all the hard work should be winding down, and it's time for vacation. Is it ever possible to stop thinking like a student?

Bologna is already hot and humid. Now that it's warm after the sun goes down, at nighttime the streets are flooded with students. In the area of the university, people even sit down along the sidewalks (and sometimes in the street) to drink and talk. It's really nice, unless you need to get around them, and then it becomes an obstacle course.

Something happened at choir practice a couple weeks ago, one of those events that makes me think, "this could only happen in Italy". I also have the "this could only happen in the US" reaction, like when I see the selection of salad dressing in the supermarket, but I think you'll get the idea when I describe this anecdote.

Next weekend my choir will perform in Florence, at the Palazzo Vecchio, in the most important room (the Salone dei Cinquecento). Because the event commemorates the creation of the Italian republic, the concert will be accompanied by a reading of the Italian Constitution. My conductor described to us his efforts to pair certain songs with particular passages: for example, after the passage about womens' rights, we'll sing a lamentation (really a lullaby) of the pain of being a woman without choices.

After providing us with a few examples, my conductor admitted, "It's really difficult, because most songs are about love, and there's not much about love in the Constitution."

In the silence that followed, one of the tenors responded, "But love is the first constitution."

We applauded, my conductor bowed. The next day I bumped into Elio, the tenor, on the street. He didn't even remember what he'd said.

Superheroes

This is a much belated post that I've been meaning to write for weeks now: in April, I went to Modena with some friends/coworkers to eat a traditional Modenese dinner as chosen by Massimo, a beloved ex-coworker. There was also Letizia, who was an adored work companion, Tiziano, and Massimo's girlfriend, Katia.

The food is pictured above. It centers around gnocco and tigelle, the bread - gnocco is like fried dough (but it's savory, not sweet), and tigelle are like little English muffins. They come to the table piping hot, and you put in prosciutto and other meats, with soft cheeses like squacquerone (try saying that 10 times fast). That cheese is actually from the other half of this region (Romagna), and I have no idea how it ended up in a meal that's traditionally Emiliano. Suffice to say that these longstanding rival areas will just have to admit that they eat the same food.

One of the highlights was lardo, pictured below. It's a mixture of lard, bacon, rosemary and garlic (I hope I got that right, Massimo must correct me if I'm wrong). You put it on the hot bread and then sprinkle on parmesan cheese, and make a little sandwich out of it. I have to say that it did not appeal to me much at first, but it's sooooooo good and sort of addictive that you can't stop eating once you start.



Anyway, this fat-saturated meal is accompanied by cut up raw vegetables, which you dip into a bowl of balsamic vinegar and olive oil. Incidentally, balsamic comes from Modena. It's so, so good. And somehow the acid-y vegetables cut the fat of the bread/lard variations, so that you can go on forever. (My parents may or may not be proud to know that I was the last standing at the table, eating-wise. Not just because I'm slow, but because I ate everything in sight!)

The post-dinner activity was one of the more bizarre experiences I've ever had in Italy. Katia works in an action figure importing company, and she took us to visit her office. This is an insane place. There are action figures of every type, all over the place, including some very gory ones with blood tubes that you can use to make vivid injury scenes. The mechanically animated figures, some of which are monsters, are light activated. Katia explained that it could be a bit scary to work in a place where monster figures randomly start talking when you turn the lights on. Indeed, it was incredibly creepy.



Tiziano enjoyed the blood and gore. (Typically!)



Massimo enjoyed the laser swords. (This is what the company owner's office looks like. And the entire place was like this. There were toys on every available surface. Literally. Can you imagine having light sabers and 3-D Godfather posters and Simpsons action figures in your office? For business purposes??)



All in all, we had an enriching experience. Gastronomically and culturally.



Postscript: At the end of the evening I was forced to harass this poor statue, which was completely dusty and forgotten at the beginning of the stairwell. Massimo and Tiziano, in particular, were hoping for obscene gestures. This is my original reaction - uncontrollable laughter and inability to carry out their requests. (I eventually succeeded, though. Please contact me for those photos!)

Baking Red Velvet Cake and Other Pastimes

I write this blog entry in a haze of jet lag: I just got back from a 10 day trip home, which was wonderful in every way, and I will spend the next few days trying to recover. (Why is jet lag worse every time I travel?)



The trip was great. I am also proud to say that I managed to visit Vermont and Connecticut along with Massachusetts, which almost makes me feel like a world traveler (though I spent most of the travel time sleeping). I saw my wonderfully talented sister perform (twice) in a crazy and entertaining play - The Increased Difficulty of Concentration by Vàclav Havel - including a mistreated fish and a robot.

My mother and I made another famous red velvet cake. It looks scary in the early stages.



But it's amazing when finished.



Thanks to generous friends and family, I ate my fill of raw fish and all the wonderful things that I can't get in Bologna.



Raw fish and raw egg together: super protein. No salmonella.



Vermont was super beautiful. It was cold enough to wear a jacket in the house, but everything was turning green and it was nice to see spring arriving.



The landscape was somehow more wild than usual. And there were lots of animal noises, though luckily I didn't get too scared at night when I heard them from my bedroom. Without Rosa there to protect me, it could've gotten a bit hairy.



Other exciting adventures included buying my first powder-based makeup, being reunited with pickles, and trying to make a dent in the debris of my bedroom in Cambridge (which is a high-school time capsule).

My friend Natasha became a doctor, or more specifically, a PharmD, and I saw 99 people take pharmacy's version of the Hippocratic Oath. I didn't even know that such a thing existed, but Natasha's wealth of pharmacy knowledge has helped me realize that she can be my on-call doctor. We got her a cake to celebrate, since she turned 24 the day before she graduated.



Wish-making is very stressful. But spending time with close friends is not.



And we're trying to become more normal as we age.



It's always bittersweet to go back and forth between homes. There's always something on one end that you can't have on the other. If only there were a highway that connected Bologna and Cambridge. The trip would be that much easier, and maybe I could even get my family to come back and forth with me.

Eating at a Wine Festival

In the beginning of April I made a work trip to Italy's (and maybe one of Europe's) biggest wine conventions, VinItaly, in Verona. I was there with a coworker, Nicola, who's the author of wine and food guides to Southern Italy, and we went to do research for a tour we're creating at work. I was a bit apprehensive at the beginning, since I was required to wear a business suit and I was dreading potential business-y meetings. Luckily, Nicola regards his profession as a call for enjoyment, and that's what we did.

On the first day of the festival he took me to the biodynamic wine division, which was located about 20 minutes by car from the main center (apparently due to tension between the two different types of producers). Biodynamic, as Nicola explained it, is a method of production without chemicals or any kind of environmentally-destructive interference. That even means no machinery! The wine tastes different, too - with all of the different kinds I tasted, there was an actual fruity flavor, and most of the wines weren't the typical white or red colors that we're used to. The best part of the wine tasting area was that all visitors were given a wineglass to wear in a little pouch that was slung around the neck. (Mine is now hanging in my room in Bologna as a badge of pride.)



Nicola pointed out to me that biodynamic wine producers are a rare breed, as their calling requires them to be involved in production around the clock. And it was clear that these were interesting characters, many of whom did not appear to spend much time with normal society. But even stranger were the organic cheesemakers, who had a separate tasting room before dinner. You can see a small example of the insane spread, below. Cheese galore, and it was incredible. The cheesemakers bustled around, manhandling crusty wheels of cheese and wearing their wool hats indoors (for the duration of the evening).



Cheese eating was followed by a five course dinner, the photographs of which follow below. One of the perks of the dinner was that the half-drunk wine bottles from the festival were left out so that diners could keep drinking their favorite wines as they ate. I was seated with a group of wine and food aficionados; this is our table BEFORE dinner started. Nicola and his comrades actually hid some of the most sought-after bottles under the table so that they could drink without being harassed by other wine lovers.

This is the first appetizer: a cake made of Adriatic bluefish and "crunchy" sardines.


Second appetizer: veal loaf with seasonal vegetables. The stringy dark green stuff must've been found in a forest somewhere, and it was the best part.


Third course, the "primo", which is usually pasta-related. This was rolls of pasta stuffed with Abruzzese black pig, juniper ricotta and wild asparagus. The black pig is a specialty (the meat itself isn't black, of course), but slight disappointments were the ricotta (which didn't taste anything like juniper, whatever that must be like) and the asparagus (which was mostly ground up into a sauce).


"Secondo", or meat course. Veal cheek cooked in Montepulciano wine and glazed onion. The meat was really good, but I'm generally sort of freaked out by eating cheek meat, because there are always strange gummy bits in it that remind me too much of my own cheeks.


Dessert, "sweet pizza", which was a mix of chocolate cake, amaretto paste, and some kind of cream. At this point I'd had enough biodynamic wine that I forgot about my photo project and started eating before I took a photo. I then tried to put my "pizza" back together. It's a bit of a patchy job.


The dinner was followed by one of the most bizarre and unique performances I have ever witnessed in my life. A group of Georgian winemakers were the celebrities of the gala dinner, as they had traveled thousands of miles by van to attend the festival (apparently biodynamic winemaking is a big thing in Georgia). About three-quarters through the dinner, strange and interesting sounds started to emanate from the Georgians' table. We were soon informed by the host that polyphonic singing is a UNESCO Heritage-protected patrimony of Georgia. Who knew? The mustachioed,7-foot tall (including the women) Georgians proceeded to give us a concert of polyphonic music, which I cannot describe accurately except to say that it's sung without words.

Speaking of life-changing experiences (as the Georgian polyphonic singing clearly was), I recently attended an alter-ego themed party. My friend Natasha and I decided to dress up as men (my idea, probably somehow related to the fact that I feel out of sorts in Italian gender dynamics) and we had a terrific time. Suspenders are an amazing invention; so much better than a belt! And I learned how to tie my tie from the internet, which I am infinitely proud of.



As for the alter-ego theme, it's unclear what some of the other partygoers interpreted themselves as. Though it was interesting, regardless.

The Weather Outside's Delightful

In recent days the sun has been out all the time in Bologna, and I have to say that spring in this city is so beautiful that it makes up for all of the misery, gray, and damp that is the winter here. The red-orange paint that's used on all the old buildings gets really rosy and glow-y and it's light past 7 pm already, and it feels like it's something worth celebrating.



Last weekend my choir had a Sunday-afternoon concert, and the wonders that are Italian organizational methods provided us with a good 2 hours between our rehearsal and the performance itself. While my innate American-ness (read: obsessive tendencies) chafes at these things (waiting, confusion, etc), on this day I really appreciated being in Italy! The sun was out and we took advantage of the wait by lying out in the park adjacent to our rehearsal space.



The pretty little daisies were so abundant that my friends Elisa and Michelina decided to adorn the head of Michele (who happens to be Michelina's twin brother). He was a willing victim and kept his daisies on for the rest of the day, throughout the concert.



Spring fever makes people do strange things, I guess. I can definitely say that it has massively improved my eating situation. I've made two discoveries over the past few weeks that are making my stomach happy on a regular basis.
1. This gelato place. I was told by an American food writer, living in Florence, that this is the best gelato in Italy. I don't know if that's true, but it's absolutely my favorite gelato in Bologna (it's also run by an American woman). Best flavor? The cinnamon-pumpkin. Which goes perfectly with the brownie gelato, and a dollop of whipped cream. Most interesting flavor? The bergamot-jasime, which tastes sort of good. And a bit like soap. I daydream about this gelato ALL DAY. It's a 20 minute walk from my house, which is sort of an obstacle, but when it gets really hot out I think I'll overcome it.
2. Fresh peas in the pod. They're already in season! My mother has always encouraged my love for these things by buying them for me during the summer. But already, in April, I can go to the supermarket and fill a bag to bursting. This is my new favorite snack. Dollar users beware: my habit is costing me a full $14 dollars a week. It's like cigarettes!

Anyway, the point of all this is that spring in Bologna is a wonderful time to appreciate the fact that winter's over and stuff like fresh produce and cold dessert are actually available. Sitting outside in the sun, though, is probably the best perk.



Beautiful Michelina. I love this photo of her, though I'm not sure why. She's as sunny a person as this photo makes her seem.

At the end of our afternoon we decided to commemorate the event by taking some fotos. Miki took charge of the camera. The first try was a bit poor.



But we improved.



The people in this photo - Gustav, with sunglasses, Michele, with daisies in his hair, and Elisa, with the short curls - along with Michelina, who took it, are some of the most important people in my life here. The twins in particular have taught me so much about what strength and inner beauty really is. They're three years younger than I am, and they've experienced things I can't even begin to imagine - as cheesy as it sounds, their ability to open up and love other people inspires me daily. A great deal of the good I see in my life in Bologna is due to them. On that note, happy spring.

Easter Eggs and Illnesses

I've been meaning to post for a while but have been dragging my heels, probably because not much noteworthy stuff has been going on. Perhaps most memorable is the fact that I succumbed to a very bad case of the flu, which involved a first semi-collapse followed by another attack of fever, chills, nausea (and other pretty things) etc a week later. I hit 104 degrees for the first time in my adult life! Below is my collection of medicine, which grew gradually over the two and a half week span of the sickness.



I was lucky enough to find a variety of very caring nursemaids (or whatever would be the male version of the word - nursemen!) who applied cold compresses, carried computers for me, bought me crackers and generally helped me out. I especially needed assistance navigating the world of Italian pharmacies. It's difficult when you don't know the names of any of the drugs! Italian pharmacies are especially interesting (for me) because pharmacists can make diagnoses like a doctor would in the States (and it's an open secret that they can also give out prescription meds, but don't tell). Anyway, I know have a full flu-related pharmacy at my house. Luckily, I'm better!

I have a theory that my illness came from a trip to Switzerland that I made with one of my coworkers, to attend a tourism trade show. We both got sick directly afterwards, maybe from the stress of the many immigration checks we were subjected to on the train. Here I am on the train, before my passport was scanned repeatedly.



It may be worth noting that Francesca (my coworker) and I were the only people whose passports were checked in our entire train car. Why, we cannot imagine.

This is Lugano. It's pretty! I wish I'd seen more of it. Instead, I was able to appreciate the various culture shocks of not being in Italy. Here are a few: plentiful chicken entrees on restaurant menus, tea served at breakfast, no bidet, and clean sidewalks.



Otherwise life proceeds normally. I spent most of Easter in bed with the flu, but here are the huge chocolate Easter eggs that people normally consume here. Ours are only half finished! You can see how big they are by comparing them to the candle to the left, in the photo. Thanks to Tiziano for mine - inside there's always a little gift. I am now the proud owner of a cell phone carrier with a little strap attached.



My work stress is not diminished. But through the craziness, I think that my coworkers have somehow bonded, which isn't such a terrible thing. (One of them is getting married this summer, which is hugely exciting! And it'll be my first time at an Italian wedding!!) So all is not lost.

Ginevra, Ginevra

I'm writing this blog entry with a single objective: I cannot gush over the events of Sunday, March 9, as much as I want to - if I did, it would be impossible to read this! So I'm going to do my best. Unfortunately this may not be the final entry on this topic; between all of us choir members there are about a million photos of the evening, in total, that I'm waiting to see.

On Sunday, my choir sang in a concert with an Italian folk musician, Ginevra di Marco, and her band. We performed at a church near the Ponte Vecchio in Florence, on a very gray day. In fact, we started the day at 8:30 am, singing at a church in a town called Fiesole outside Florence. This is the landscape around Fiesole, which is beautiful.



From the courtyard of the church, we could see a foggy view of Florence with its bell towers and red roofs. It's much less industrial than Bologna, and with all Tuscan green hills and trees it almost seemed like a postcard. If only it hadn't been so gray.



After Fiesole, we headed to Florence to prepare for the big event. First, some background on Ginevra. She's somewhere in her mid-thirties and is a semi-famous singer who for many years sang with left-leaning music groups from central/northern Italy. By left-leaning, I mean communist, or almost. In a good way. (Sample lyrics from one of their songs: I sing war, and I know I'm not in good company/I sing peace, which isn't a profession, or an ideology/I sing liberty, difficult and never given, must always be defended/always regained.)

Anyway, nowadays Ginevra tours Italy with her band (which includes her hubby, who's the musical director). She sings folk songs from Italy (in a gazillion dialects) as well as songs in Spanish, Greek, Romanian, and other languages. And we were invited to sing on her tour because my conductor's cousin knows someone who knows someone, etc etc. We rehearsed four of her songs with her and she sang two of our songs with us. Somehow she managed to learn our songs perfectly after a single listen. I guess it's her job, but even so.

Here's my conductor walking to the church in the rain, with his little podium. Luckily, when we got there, the technical team supplied him with the priest's pulpit (I believe that the church is no longer sacred) and he was all set.



The streets near the church were full of signs for the concert.



We proceeded to rehearse for a few hours, and were reminded once again of the fact that Ginevra is AMAZING. Her voice is out of this world, and she and her band are all super welcoming and open and willing to share the spotlight. They really enjoyed playing with us and on the spot decided that we'd sing a seventh song together. She, her husband, the drummer and the guitarist all speak in wonderfully thick Tuscan accents (which for me are the hardest to follow).

Here are some of my choir buddies. On edge and ready to go!



Here's the church 20 minutes before the concert started. It was totally packed and they had to start adding extra chairs. I know it's a cliche, but it really did feel as if the air was buzzing. We were super excited; to put things in perspective, we are a folk music choir, so this was like singing with a number one celebrity!



And of course the concert itself was just wonderful. Someone once described Ginevra as "becoming" her voice when she sings, as if her voice is so beautiful that it eclipses her as a human being. It actually happens! And we had a great time singing along (at some points, especially for a Neapolitan fighting song, we were yelling). We ended the two hour concert exhausted and happy. Not as exhausted as Ginevra's kids, though, who were sleeping in the front row as their parents danced around onstage.

Now for the best moment: my friend Michele, who knows all too well of my crazed-fan-love for Ginevra, has been promising me a photo with her for weeks. I was too nervous to go up to her by myself so he dragged me over after the concert was over. The star of the show was all too happy to take a photo with us, even though I was so star-struck that I stuck Michele between the two of us. (I REGRET IT NOW!) I am only disappointed that I take up more of the photo than she does! Ginevra, why are you hiding behind Michele and your flowers?! (In retrospect I can see that I did not manage to conceal the fact that I was utterly giddy - it's apparent on my face!)



After the photo, she gave me a hearty Italian embrace and told me to email her the photo. So, please excuse me - I have to compose my email now, or at least faint while doing so.

(Here is an interview with my conductor and the amazing Ginevra herself, along with her hubby. If you speak Italian, it's very sweet. And even if you don't speak Italian!)

(And HERE is a video of the concert itself. It's long and may not be as fascinating as I present it to be, but the singing starts around 4 and a half minutes and I swear it's beautiful. And part two is here.)