tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25462097871987542722024-02-19T21:23:21.557-08:00itaLIA mi piaceLiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.comBlogger95125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-23756260439436719502022-05-22T02:48:00.004-07:002022-05-22T02:48:59.195-07:00Plogging with Rome's ArcheoRunning!<p>Plogging - What the heck is that!?</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnKiAfhq0JnPKeEKt-wRoZNua_kjZDO_tkDgTbqFXJ_TpSlzg1equ2-pNVWjGfo_dn9jtRASiRMXHR1clA0DrxdPEvlI1VbKAAoY64qk2Y3QKrHpuKZ5mzg6E5_apXVsRjhx2EQoGLICDq8p9pamizuwCQimznzVu1VJnVvz0Z53D8XtWQA_2lKxxa8A" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4608" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnKiAfhq0JnPKeEKt-wRoZNua_kjZDO_tkDgTbqFXJ_TpSlzg1equ2-pNVWjGfo_dn9jtRASiRMXHR1clA0DrxdPEvlI1VbKAAoY64qk2Y3QKrHpuKZ5mzg6E5_apXVsRjhx2EQoGLICDq8p9pamizuwCQimznzVu1VJnVvz0Z53D8XtWQA_2lKxxa8A=w378-h251" width="378" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div>Who wants to know more!? With support from <a href="https://www.instagram.com/regionelazio.official/?hl=en">Regione Lazio</a>, I was invited to join Isabella from ArcheoRunning on a unique running experience through Rome back in March. The so-called "Plogging" Tour.<p></p><p>Isabella's "Plogging" tour combines the best of a few key things:</p><p></p><ol style="text-align: left;"><li>Exercise</li><li>History</li><li>Altruism</li></ol><p></p><p>This tour offering by ArcheoRunning was particularly unique, as this particular collaboration with Regione Lazio and Plastic Free ONLUS allowed participants to jog through some of the most epic piazza's of Rome, while learning about the history of unique monuments and helping clean the streets of Rome at the same time, one discarded cigarette pack at a time.</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKxrY9I-4tVELtGRcrWdGqYHq29qU7IrMU52-fWco5vnjMkJ3IhH4X1aIqy2YGy3SwljQAQ2Wk2T8OB4VB60uVJXEXV12c1dguYlm5XY9q0G7WNrWuENZAJ-zx7rI0ECz6ln0g5YW5bDur9akfpO96_zWKtdQ4gJntc_hT_waGizt-rLrS9qq3IZtyeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3951" data-original-width="2634" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiKxrY9I-4tVELtGRcrWdGqYHq29qU7IrMU52-fWco5vnjMkJ3IhH4X1aIqy2YGy3SwljQAQ2Wk2T8OB4VB60uVJXEXV12c1dguYlm5XY9q0G7WNrWuENZAJ-zx7rI0ECz6ln0g5YW5bDur9akfpO96_zWKtdQ4gJntc_hT_waGizt-rLrS9qq3IZtyeg" width="160" /></a>I was particularly grateful to participate in this type of tour as for years I have been coming to Italy and to Rome in particular and have continued to see the dire situation of litter in even the most precious and ancient spots of Rome. Initiatives like Isabella's Plogging Tour are so important to me, as I continue to see Romans and tourists alike treat Rome, Italy and earth like a giant garbage can, and I cannot express the importance of continued proper education and altruism that Isabella is helping to promote!</p><p>We started our tour with a light stretch and warm up at the empty Terrazza del Pincio. I was already in love! The group was fabulous and friendly. Rome was empty, quiet and brisk (although not for long!). Isabella explained the purpose of our tour, handed out bags and gloves with Plastic Free to the group, and we were off!</p><p>Down the stairs toward Piazza del Popolo, sadly some of our bags were already half full with trash we collected. Truly, we could have stayed in 10 square meters and spent hours filling bags with trash, but we pushed on. Isabella told us about the significance of Piazza del Popolo and the Obelisk taking center stage. In a light jog, we continued down Via del Babuino towards Piazza di Spagna, taking in the Spanish Steps in the morning with few people around and a bride and groom posing for photos mid staircase - truly magical!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgrwV5kfmrHdk4_hHxg2TbQDSz3hrPN1aDcXGJVgC-amTpvLupo10BOpfcNraPo_iYQLoG1hC9KB2cfti506kWWqMPUzrGRuKGHVw7MrFxXMY0DfrR8_zHtTwdsvUe0G7osxrhArXt-WcmhO2HDk6IaIQ5DCMitItv3cw-Dzl7IwZq-Q21V_kSc5fHoKg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4608" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgrwV5kfmrHdk4_hHxg2TbQDSz3hrPN1aDcXGJVgC-amTpvLupo10BOpfcNraPo_iYQLoG1hC9KB2cfti506kWWqMPUzrGRuKGHVw7MrFxXMY0DfrR8_zHtTwdsvUe0G7osxrhArXt-WcmhO2HDk6IaIQ5DCMitItv3cw-Dzl7IwZq-Q21V_kSc5fHoKg=w200-h133" width="200" /></a></div>For me, the most special part of the tour was our stop just outside of Piazza Barberini where Isabella recounted the history of the Acqua Vergine aqueduct, one of eleven aqueducts of ancient Rome, completed by Marcus Agrippa in 18 BC under the reign of Augustus. <p></p><p>From the aqueduct, we continued South toward Piazza Venezia, stopping at the Trevi Fountain with full trash bags in hand, and then we headed to complete our tour at the Colosseum. It was a spectacular morning spent alongside like minded people, interested in health, history and community altruism.</p><p>Isabella's passion for Rome, for running and for providing connections to traveling runners visiting Roma is truly inspirational. She's built a beautiful and unique experience for runners of all types! I highly encourage the early morning rise to experience Rome with her! Check out <a href="https://www.archeorunning.com/en/">https://www.archeorunning.com/en/</a> to learn about her different tour offerings and follow her on Instagram; <a href="https://www.instagram.com/archeorunning/?hl=en">@ArcheoRunning</a>, don't miss out!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6LsBOI9hrKfoCreq_0VV4xC_X_Ub1_KBkQZPIuK8BXBm-oil7T10sv6bEJrYEw-VaBjnFpi5odP3lk6f8GjAZq8Gczt7pYMNVk59be8LwC2MGuiQrUtfe5qVuUkKKnnNHE5LjSFMYc2I8m3TVXrgY2kTvNtmkwlkz5mzo1rFoKGUzxKpC4B9s_9Xvjg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="4608" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh6LsBOI9hrKfoCreq_0VV4xC_X_Ub1_KBkQZPIuK8BXBm-oil7T10sv6bEJrYEw-VaBjnFpi5odP3lk6f8GjAZq8Gczt7pYMNVk59be8LwC2MGuiQrUtfe5qVuUkKKnnNHE5LjSFMYc2I8m3TVXrgY2kTvNtmkwlkz5mzo1rFoKGUzxKpC4B9s_9Xvjg=w400-h266" width="400" /></a></div><p></p>Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-36704341612124998492022-03-14T03:35:00.000-07:002022-03-14T03:35:30.125-07:00It put a smile on my face!<p>It's been a hot hot summer in Rome. Thankfully, I was able to escape some of the oppressive heat for beach days, many weeks in the New England summer and some days spent in the hills of the Ciociaria. September rounds the corner, and while the forecast still threatens highs upwards of 30 degrees Celsius, the weather gods have decided that the highs are no longer 20 of 24 hours of the day, but 5 or 6 and then we're rewarded with sweet breezes and lows just under 20 degrees. It's absolutely wonderful.</p><p>With the change in heat, the change in month, and the return of Romans to the city, Rome offers a different vibe, a vibe that excites me! It's back to enjoyable cool walks at 8:30 to grab a <i>cappuccino</i> and <i>cornetto</i> in my favorite piazza at my favorite bar. I welcome new people watching; grasping on to every clever phrase that a Roman utters amongst their daily routine interacting with others.</p><p>This morning's coffee encounter was just perfect. I was seated at my table sipping on my cappuccino watching the clientele. Someone who appears to be a regular approached the entrance of the bar and quickly a conversation between one of the baristas and this guy ensued. It went a little bit like this:</p><p>- "Aho bello, come va?"</p><p>- "Bene bene"</p><p>- "Cosa ti preparo'?"</p><p>- "Mi fai due caffe nella stessa tazza?"</p><p>- "Ahah aho, allora ti preparo un caffe doppio?"</p><p>- "Eh si, mi pare cosi!"</p><p>...</p><p>Nothing earth shattering, but to me this down to earth Roman exchange brought the biggest smile to my face. Simplicity, camaraderie and the essences of romanita in 2 minutes :) </p>Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-37068309257237960982021-03-04T01:20:00.000-08:002021-03-04T01:20:12.095-08:00All About Figs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji7sFUn-WBss_-zY_i5RZsWlbzrvLLLeAZUU5tcttuMwZTybSxMKdYysiTTmwF8ncQGpuDJxD78M3k289-ZqddpOikhNlpHeoeQ_eUDwkrHuXT7GYtCY4Si8Fq4_UctWUauenHkuN1tjRU/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji7sFUn-WBss_-zY_i5RZsWlbzrvLLLeAZUU5tcttuMwZTybSxMKdYysiTTmwF8ncQGpuDJxD78M3k289-ZqddpOikhNlpHeoeQ_eUDwkrHuXT7GYtCY4Si8Fq4_UctWUauenHkuN1tjRU/w640-h640/CE476BAF-F324-41DA-85FA-6BA650FCE6D0.PNG" width="640" /></a></span></div><br /></div><div>Figs are an oddly symbolic fruit for me. <br />
<br />
Since forever, I've been traveling to Italy nearly every summer for all I can remember and there is a distinct, sweet and sticky smell that has characterized many of those vacations. This year, during my quarantine strolls was when I really realized what the sweet smell of summer is attributed to. Fig trees!<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir-9rO-Je2qppKsNtHm1Z1ypnwxsKD7pfr5dTRGBKdVhlBIfPOtQIYIJUmW4hVqw6CPA2UzAvsT9bJuRUL3pVYDKcca1QGPjUJHCZT72mNB-xQ8RhyB-B1J0TmARWoeDdkDJgmEgGQnlhx/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir-9rO-Je2qppKsNtHm1Z1ypnwxsKD7pfr5dTRGBKdVhlBIfPOtQIYIJUmW4hVqw6CPA2UzAvsT9bJuRUL3pVYDKcca1QGPjUJHCZT72mNB-xQ8RhyB-B1J0TmARWoeDdkDJgmEgGQnlhx/" title="fig tree sprouting on a roman street" width="180" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">fig tree sprouting <br />on a roman street<br /></td></tr></tbody></table></div><br /></div><div>My only saving grace during quarantine was living a stone's throw away from the <i>Tevere</i> (Rome's Tiber River). I enjoy running, but more so, I am a walkaholic and loved going on endless wa<br />lks through the city before the tighter local restrictions were put in place. I would set out from my hou<br />se on the weekend with absolutely nothing to do, and would walk for 2 or even 3 hours just roaming aimlessly around my beloved Rome, stopping here and there to take a photo or to admire a perfectly cliche Roman scene (Carabinieri scouring the streets to give out fines for people breaking quarantine, them in groups of more than 2, not wearing masks, ha!). </div><div><br /></div><div>While walking the Tevere from Testaccio until Parioli, with few distractions out and about, I was able to focus on the "nature" surrounding me right there in Rome. Without gas guzzling cars driving by, my lungs were free to breathe clean air, my ears were able to hear beyond the noise of traffic and my nose was able to smell scents that hadn't yet been masked by pollution. It was a magical and unique experience in Rome, which as many know is usually a dirty, polluted, and chaotic city. </div><div><br /></div><div>Among scents that I noticed, I began to notice an increasingly sweet and sticky scent, and at the same time I began noticing little fig leaves sprouting up from cracks in the wall and tiny fig leaves beginning to sprout. PSA: If you haven't seen tiny fig leaves, check them out, they are literally the cutest little things ever! [see photos]</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hgPQs5M7JW7-BRsK8hRZO1rrGw5O04CXDGj32dOYHu9v329cv1SAZjAI9CZS7YyZKOd5lp1Q1_qiTBhq4xygY8OZ7XLKGQlKj3hp9DgbayMhHuVxyVKv6Uixb0ov7Yd62z63eq3GMfq9/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hgPQs5M7JW7-BRsK8hRZO1rrGw5O04CXDGj32dOYHu9v329cv1SAZjAI9CZS7YyZKOd5lp1Q1_qiTBhq4xygY8OZ7XLKGQlKj3hp9DgbayMhHuVxyVKv6Uixb0ov7Yd62z63eq3GMfq9/w240-h320/IMG_9570.HEIC" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zKOA54cckrm5wyjEYds6P-1JCfhSeCpynECOfQrsQ7X_9_AvxuWy2KmGrKCzVaYBBJ-5Gui3kNGrXzQ7vC5YF5ePHtOKlfWwiAMlcPJNzXQZ1FzQeoGmGtwOgyDggTiLvjqnN3Dgx4Qb/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0zKOA54cckrm5wyjEYds6P-1JCfhSeCpynECOfQrsQ7X_9_AvxuWy2KmGrKCzVaYBBJ-5Gui3kNGrXzQ7vC5YF5ePHtOKlfWwiAMlcPJNzXQZ1FzQeoGmGtwOgyDggTiLvjqnN3Dgx4Qb/w240-h320/IMG_9651.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /></div><div>As I began noticing figs leaves sprouting all over the city, and the sweet and sticky smell growing stronger and stronger by the day, I finally realized that that particular smell was one of the smells I always attributed to Italy. That smell, was the smell that smacked me in the face when I finally arrived to Fontechiari (Muto) after an 8-hour flight and a 2-hour car drive and opened the car door and breathed in the fresh country air. It made me become insta happy or high to smell that scent and to see Nonna running out with a wooden spoon in her hand, indicating a meal was on its way. That smell, I now know, is the smell of fig trees! </div><div><br /></div><div>So, why is figuring out what this scent is such a big deal to me? It's not so much a big deal, but a type of awakening. Knowing that distinct sweet scent is due to fig trees makes me really quite happy. Figs have always been a symbol of my travel to Italy, but I don't think I ever realized how diffused the plant was. Seeing little fig leaves sprout up in a crack between a gutter and an old Roman façade gives me such joy, primarily because it reminds me of my Nonno's most prized possession. His fig tree!</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM3gYYQovBTkcL5K2bXtacTFH7IBIBrINuuu8SR6xVH8hce2X0304Z0jidrBfPa-VdZ6lwZBpPaeFYJOSS3OmtUWfgvHBDSeKe-UOSe_ep68Qcos2Tmsk-Y3UC0RvDrPKyKRCXwCA0zd_f/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM3gYYQovBTkcL5K2bXtacTFH7IBIBrINuuu8SR6xVH8hce2X0304Z0jidrBfPa-VdZ6lwZBpPaeFYJOSS3OmtUWfgvHBDSeKe-UOSe_ep68Qcos2Tmsk-Y3UC0RvDrPKyKRCXwCA0zd_f/w320-h240/IMG_8829.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ficora di Nonno Michele</div><div><br /></div><div>Find 3 fig inspired secrets to share with you below:</div><div><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><b>Figs JAM! </b>We are all familiar with jams of all kinds of flavorsl raspberry, apricot, blueberry, cherry, orange, you name it! But have you had FIG JAM!? PSA: FIG JAM IS THE BEST JAM! Especially for our charcuterie board lovers out there, fig jam pairs quite nicely with many cheeses and can be complemented by a nice slice of prosciutto or capocollo.</li><li><b>Fig slang</b> // did you know Italian's use the word Fig or "Fico" in Italian as a synonym for "cool", "trendy" or "hip". When you hear about the news of NASA landing on Mars, in Italian you'd say, "che fico, ragazzi", "how cool, guys!". This phrase can also be heard or spelled as "Che figo". There are other Italian phrases related to figs, but I will keep this blog PG for now, so can't get into it ;)</li><li><b>Fig leaf censorship:</b> Did you know that the leaf we see covering the private parts on ancient status is a fig leaf? The connotation dates back to biblical times and the book of Genesis where Adam and Eve were noted to use fig leaves to cover their privates. When growing criticism of public nudity rose in the catholic church, various Popes throughout medieval time began mandating statues and works of art with nudity were censored with the fig leaf!</li></ol></div><div><br /></div><div>P.s. Figs are funny. I always remember the grown ups (my nonni, my mom, the neighbors, etc) drooling over fresh figs and the ability to pick the fresh off the tree, but when I was younger I really didn't understand the appeal. To me I had a mostly hate-hate relationship with them due to their slimy insides that look like worms, and due to the one time I was asked to help climb a tree to collect figs high up, and while I was sitting in the tree getting the grown ups their delicious, succulent, figs, I started to feel my skin pinching all over and realized I was being bit by hundreds of tiny red ants! I'll never forget it!</div><div><br />Thankfully, over time my perception of figs has changed. I love spending time at my Nonni's house in the summer picking fresh figs off the tree, breaking them open to see their beautifully intricate and lush insides, and plopping them fresh in my mouth. Dried figs on a charcuterie board? My jam. Fig jam? Also my jam ;) Simply delicious!</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTsy2fNq9qtFnjggCuFPX29NqCB0cemxOPQ9Hu8I6K1N3ZiQDg7g3pDFc69VBYaOqcP42fioOZuF1MwhevHrKLG1IMdUlnuKKvcI0fYWAcDqczOPjtYk00P8oEL3woEF_RKeiArqnZBYY/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCTsy2fNq9qtFnjggCuFPX29NqCB0cemxOPQ9Hu8I6K1N3ZiQDg7g3pDFc69VBYaOqcP42fioOZuF1MwhevHrKLG1IMdUlnuKKvcI0fYWAcDqczOPjtYk00P8oEL3woEF_RKeiArqnZBYY/" width="180" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDMqHbMtBXo9FePduiJg9fZ8mrBSnd4Xe0f17N1k_mYkajF1EI4vlv0dlADgHysNbQNEnDV44iuMoDENm1LXnno6dKc7nlTpRxOpxY5GZV6zxJkxLPuW2WXtBcfxoAlCaRvrx7NvVGZTCJ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDMqHbMtBXo9FePduiJg9fZ8mrBSnd4Xe0f17N1k_mYkajF1EI4vlv0dlADgHysNbQNEnDV44iuMoDENm1LXnno6dKc7nlTpRxOpxY5GZV6zxJkxLPuW2WXtBcfxoAlCaRvrx7NvVGZTCJ/" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAq1Li8F2L3cZPKNubhsE8GOztw6c8tKK1nS1twD3SwygOM9k766AGg8pwFJVDboKwZ7h7TEsPN00HWMUTxdyFKI7xHBZObeONcSATI5_t5iNQKpXYWqR3RNGEACGH0z7ixeU2VeBtdJxB/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAq1Li8F2L3cZPKNubhsE8GOztw6c8tKK1nS1twD3SwygOM9k766AGg8pwFJVDboKwZ7h7TEsPN00HWMUTxdyFKI7xHBZObeONcSATI5_t5iNQKpXYWqR3RNGEACGH0z7ixeU2VeBtdJxB/" width="180" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>p.p.s figs bring smiles, mostly to older people like my Nonna and Nonno, anytime Gino (pictured above) brought around a fresh tray of figs... the look on their faces! PRICELESS <3</div>Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-90656352239310332882020-12-08T12:17:00.011-08:002020-12-30T13:31:53.705-08:00itaLIAmipiace's Rome by Neighborhood // Testaccio: Coffee<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQORWO6XjkR3CERwD5sFrgYjTwgJ9S5wiuk-ob2WvN6CM8NX-y0EpFReTfg0ovdmojCMEDfuJqY5f-jUaMEtl3x9HM-MY_DK-q7TZcgJq2iciGIIeaZZKGcm5hW-inLTbkJBnrLdVrKBFc/s1080/1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQORWO6XjkR3CERwD5sFrgYjTwgJ9S5wiuk-ob2WvN6CM8NX-y0EpFReTfg0ovdmojCMEDfuJqY5f-jUaMEtl3x9HM-MY_DK-q7TZcgJq2iciGIIeaZZKGcm5hW-inLTbkJBnrLdVrKBFc/w400-h400/1.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Spending the afternoon in Testaccio and need a quick caffeine boost or a place to reset and enjoy a local scene? Check out the list below for 5 bars that won't disappoint!</div><div><br /></div><div><ol style="text-align: left;"><li><b>Bar Fratelli Capone:</b> This is my Testaccio go-to! Situated on the north west side of Piazza Testaccio, the bar is run by two Roman brothers who are bound to make you smile in the 2 minutes it takes to make and serve your order. Pro Tip: If it's a beautiful day, ask for your coffee and cornetto on a tray and bring it to enjoy on a bench in the piazza. Enjoy the testaccini about and the beautiful fountain dei cocci centered in the piazza.</li><li><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHM4fNx_0aqOSkZb2J1ozEQCn3BO4HCBJfzz9ajxXxwMmpgFi8jMESH9-OBGZHNDGY7KqOFadYp0euK2o8IkZf8db1SZJ_pgOA5yIZEMI44smR7aziQtpKi3_oMSpJrHBDUtIkApYkDmk7/s1080/2.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHM4fNx_0aqOSkZb2J1ozEQCn3BO4HCBJfzz9ajxXxwMmpgFi8jMESH9-OBGZHNDGY7KqOFadYp0euK2o8IkZf8db1SZJ_pgOA5yIZEMI44smR7aziQtpKi3_oMSpJrHBDUtIkApYkDmk7/s320/2.png" /></a></div><b>Pasticceria Linari: </b>Easily the most well-known pasticceria in the Rione, Linari hits top marks on quality cornetti and delicious coffee. They have a few tables outside lining Via Nicola Zabaglia and a number of tables inside as well. They have a long bar that showcases all of their delicious cornetti's and because of high traffic their bar service is down to a science, I am always impressed by the service! My favorite cornetti there is a danese, circular gem filled with custard cream and chocolate chips.</li><li><b>Tram Depot:</b> This place is capital C, Cute! The bar is housed in an old tram car and only has outside seating available. You feel like you're in a retro movie scene enjoying a fancy coffee on their pink wicker chairs, gazing past the tram car bar as you look at the busy buzz of Via Marmorata. You're likely to spot a cinquecento or two pass, or blessed with the view of an old FIAT van parked out front.</li><li><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz2P5hJMF0_WE_JKqgWRwewwGd_F9NSzFQaOR7PUjpAqD9sRYQQk1V5QdU8uON-XOzUFdHIjhU4TEKJCAO5XFUDAst47ZcqrrWNtEW-OYCSAfR2X0UxPktli-WlANR_X48nHQF6_765vF7/s4032/IMG_1666.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz2P5hJMF0_WE_JKqgWRwewwGd_F9NSzFQaOR7PUjpAqD9sRYQQk1V5QdU8uON-XOzUFdHIjhU4TEKJCAO5XFUDAst47ZcqrrWNtEW-OYCSAfR2X0UxPktli-WlANR_X48nHQF6_765vF7/w150-h200/IMG_1666.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><b>Caffe Tevere:</b> My Uncle John got me started on this Testaccio gem. A regular place for students attending Universita Roma Tre' depart of Architecture located in the Ex-Mattatoio, it's always buzzing and full of life. I am sometimes intimidated by the crowd, but the coffee and the bartenders never disappoint. My Uncle John's order; ciambella and spremuta (fresh squeezed orange juice, he doesn't drink coffee, ha!). They also have tables inside and out year round.</li><li><b>Strit Fud: </b>If you're visiting the market in Testaccio, this is where you have to go for your coffee break. They have a large number of tables lining the east side of the market, if you catch the day right you also catch the sun :) They have service to the tables for no extra cost.</li></ol></div><div><br /></div><div>*All of the above also are good choices if your past the coffee craving and moving on to aperitivo hour ;)<br /><br /><br /></div><div>Check out my map!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div> <div style="text-align: center;"><iframe height="480" src="https://www.google.com/maps/d/u/0/embed?mid=1ERXipv4XyBFrDhjOuQNWkXQbKdGLcgOp" width="640"></iframe></div>Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-18040617417044323812020-10-21T11:48:00.003-07:002020-12-30T13:17:31.541-08:00Cacio e Pepe: tips and tricks for the creamiest results!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMdkgTW3d73fEh4Sr8-1r7NgX12Vv__DthyApJtJf43duMKQ0RurMnUGBmBAdL1myqxcmYXc4rgMFpOUjoJ1kGGJHOcuJrwPy2-axQ_94aYb-NpGoKHvJPkUdUtFsA5-vE02ySSRnfk6GM/s1242/IMG_2785.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1236" data-original-width="1242" height="638" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMdkgTW3d73fEh4Sr8-1r7NgX12Vv__DthyApJtJf43duMKQ0RurMnUGBmBAdL1myqxcmYXc4rgMFpOUjoJ1kGGJHOcuJrwPy2-axQ_94aYb-NpGoKHvJPkUdUtFsA5-vE02ySSRnfk6GM/w640-h638/IMG_2785.PNG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Cacio e Pepe is one of the famous Roman pastas you'll find on the menu of any Roman restaurant. Although a staple of the famous Roman four, with the fewest ingredients, many deem it as the most difficult of the four to master. Luckily for me, during my first few months of living in Rome, I didn't quite get the varied grocery shopping lists down, and instead I could always count on having a large stash of pecorino romano in my fridge and of course, a wide variety of quality pasta to choose from.</div><p style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_kwIPzVvZieJRbSCoeUEbFVOIcShP9chJG_oa56XRlEg8X-SO619tiNIx62AtuqRHBb6oHEb_GJA4YjIHv7w84SkBF3BU4s_9h4lurb5m3Wb1knBMNuq-L-zH8NzPIqAf333hRbarMi6/s4032/IMG_0259.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL_kwIPzVvZieJRbSCoeUEbFVOIcShP9chJG_oa56XRlEg8X-SO619tiNIx62AtuqRHBb6oHEb_GJA4YjIHv7w84SkBF3BU4s_9h4lurb5m3Wb1knBMNuq-L-zH8NzPIqAf333hRbarMi6/w240-h320/IMG_0259.HEIC" width="240" /></a>My first encounter with Cacio e Pepe was on Christmas while my parents were in town to visit. My mom obviously inspired the idea to have a large Christmas alla Romana with a lunch at home. My friend was joining us, and she is a vegetarian... so what to make? We quickly decided on a menu: cacio e pepe being the obvious primo piatto, secondo of agnello (not for the vegetarian, sorry Lina!), and two delicious Roman contorni; puntarelle e carciofi alla romana! </p><p style="text-align: left;">My mom and I bought the ingredients, my mom having the wherewithal to ask the person serving us at the cheese counter: "How much pecorino would we need for 5 people?" The answer, shocking. They suggested an amount that seemed almost double what we would have asked, but always trust the counter suggestions! We also asked to have the cheese grated immediately - my least favorite activity is grating cheese! Love how they do that for you at the cheese counters here in Italy!</p><p>Anyways, cooking time. Lots of back and forth discussion - 2 cooks in the kitchen can be disastrous, especially a mother daughter combo - but we were determined and with much back and forth and helping one another we somehow managed to make a first successful tonnarelli cacio e pepe! Creamy, no cheese globbing. A Christmas miracle!</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEFOr00qgiwK7kQq4VqUfsdBooKaWCaYkFcVB8YpC6S1kMY80AaNsZwRFODpFMWlF7hsz4aOoyrgtvruRTEjnymaGtGfXbrN4u7VCfb7-VDXReGtIB-cQhtDB9YBSRJCeWBrfoZ8g-ZsYS/s4032/IMG_9989.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEFOr00qgiwK7kQq4VqUfsdBooKaWCaYkFcVB8YpC6S1kMY80AaNsZwRFODpFMWlF7hsz4aOoyrgtvruRTEjnymaGtGfXbrN4u7VCfb7-VDXReGtIB-cQhtDB9YBSRJCeWBrfoZ8g-ZsYS/w240-h320/IMG_9989.HEIC" width="240" /></a>I share this prelude into my cacio e pepe experience because, it was either beginners luck or a Christmas miracle. I tried multiple times after to produce the same product. Sometimes I was successful, sometimes it ended horribly. But I couldn't figure out the trend. My mom had the same experience. I will note that first time we used fresh tonnarelli! Which could have had something to do with our starchy success ;) </p><p>February rolls around the corner and I decide I am having a big dinner with my friends at my house and I am cooking cacio e pepe! My Roman friend gives me the side eye at this announcement "this american thinks she can cook a cacio e pepe!? HA!" Needless to say, she was very skeptic. There is always the discussion around the difficulty of making a good cacio e pepe whenever someone suggests they might make it. "You sure you can do it, Lia?" "That's one of the most difficult pasta dishes to make correctly!"</p><p>Okay, okay, I get it. It's risky for a dinner party. But I went after it! Fresh tonnarelli again ;) Some moral support, some wine and voila! Another creamy and delicious success!</p><p>From then on, I'd say I have a 95% success rate for creaminess. So how do I do it!? Ready below ;)</p><p>As I've mentioned in the past, I cook like my Nonna, so I don't measure anything accurately, so my recipe may require some trial and error on your end, but give it a go! Below is based on a single portion.</p><p>INGREDIENTS:</p><p>- CACIO (Pecorino Romano - grated): Approximately 1 cup</p><p>- PEPE (A PIACERE!): amount depends on how much you like pepper, up to you again! Use peppercorns and grind them in a mill as opposed to pre-grounded pepper from a shaker. Peppercorns are spicier and tastier :)</p><p>- PASTA: For one portion, I use one quarter of a 500g pack of pasta (precise!) PSA: To my fellow americans out there, spend the extra 75 cents for non supermarket brand pasta, it makes a difference!</p><p>- PASTA WATER</p><p>1. Set your pasta water to boil. Fill your pot with just enough water to cover the pasta amount you are throwing in. The starchiness of your pasta water is key to the creaminess of your end result. The water becomes more starch rich of course if there is a higher ratio of pasta to water. This is pro tip #1! </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYeghnlnlZcrGChyphenhyphen4yRL4-y1nAJd33Dggh18xlW9EM_aunJwfl1WhFBBuklkKRYxi2-3xWfUMmZzSb_I1rav-rXeUzpmKzTIjmnUhyphenhyphen-CT3r-no0f4R0iHSuw4UvcyMuOmliYmxTkGjSSuv/s2160/Tip+1+Pasta+water+is+king.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="2160" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYeghnlnlZcrGChyphenhyphen4yRL4-y1nAJd33Dggh18xlW9EM_aunJwfl1WhFBBuklkKRYxi2-3xWfUMmZzSb_I1rav-rXeUzpmKzTIjmnUhyphenhyphen-CT3r-no0f4R0iHSuw4UvcyMuOmliYmxTkGjSSuv/w400-h400/Tip+1+Pasta+water+is+king.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>2. While the water is boiling set up your cheese and pepper stations:<p></p><p><span> - Cheese: In a large bowl, pour your grated pecorino romano cheese</span><br /></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgymKcOQOInZ0ygfXDWWu8smt-pU_t4tk0CYHnw9_XIKe_A9bYo7qS67N_MJ_mcw_kXb0lWUkE2ZCixhmemo31ZhwJYMUN0fadmU4Xp1VUbezotxmlVraWkUxmat_TbZQ_6ZGE8yGjElVul/s4032/IMG_2675.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgymKcOQOInZ0ygfXDWWu8smt-pU_t4tk0CYHnw9_XIKe_A9bYo7qS67N_MJ_mcw_kXb0lWUkE2ZCixhmemo31ZhwJYMUN0fadmU4Xp1VUbezotxmlVraWkUxmat_TbZQ_6ZGE8yGjElVul/w150-h200/IMG_2675.HEIC" width="150" /></a><span><span> - Pepper: Place a frying pan or saute pan on the stove (size relative to your pasta portion, pan big enough to fit your cooked pasta and mix). Grind your pepper directly into the pan. Turn the pan on low heat to begin toasting your pepper. Keep in mind your pepper to cheese ratio and your tolerance to pepper. I hate super peppery versions, my mom enjoys them though however</span></span></p><p>3. When your water comes to a boil, salt your water if you wish. I personally don't salt my pasta water as I find the pecorino is already quite salty, but if you're salty, go crazy! Throw the pasta in and cook per package instructions minus 2 minutes cooking time.</p><p>4. When the timer goes off, take a ladle of pasta water and throw it into the pan on the toasting pepper. Raise the pan heat to medium.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi597JOiz1PiaZdrCB30-B-OdyIbqIfi1r7wyo6Bm9Livuh_Vtf4vYHlcQ2P_BpxAqH29ZvTxWuCbbudOqMByqEqrzXYCYMjQrh9_pJPYywe5ArpKbrU3YuTVjViqOs16jMlxdtDEMKbl5g/s4032/IMG_2679.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi597JOiz1PiaZdrCB30-B-OdyIbqIfi1r7wyo6Bm9Livuh_Vtf4vYHlcQ2P_BpxAqH29ZvTxWuCbbudOqMByqEqrzXYCYMjQrh9_pJPYywe5ArpKbrU3YuTVjViqOs16jMlxdtDEMKbl5g/w320-h240/IMG_2679.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>5. Now prepare your cheese mix! Add small amounts of the pasta water at a time to your bowl of grated pecorino cheese, until you reach a paste like consistency. Pro tip #2, make a paste not a liquid! It should not be liquidy. If you put too much water, have extra cheese on standby to throw in to make thicker again.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiox4fWXL-tv4HI_BkTyQnOhwGCxfecwryBCcakx3qi8SKY_1ADEd3UwO8O7BzAJeE5eaVDCUxbqvdTiBRGLMbux-QwJppbY1e3V7FZC-3pLS2e0PG4FVqFIM5hZUrNQ8B7S5VLEIFuV6F/s2160/Progetto+senza+titolo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="2160" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiox4fWXL-tv4HI_BkTyQnOhwGCxfecwryBCcakx3qi8SKY_1ADEd3UwO8O7BzAJeE5eaVDCUxbqvdTiBRGLMbux-QwJppbY1e3V7FZC-3pLS2e0PG4FVqFIM5hZUrNQ8B7S5VLEIFuV6F/w400-h400/Progetto+senza+titolo.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>6. Now take an extra mug of pasta water out of the pasta for safety<p></p><p>7. Strain your pasta and throw the pasta in the pan with the pepper. Begin to mix the pepper and pasta together with the extra pasta water. Get that pepper all over! Add a little of pasta water at a time to continue cooking the pasta for about a minute. After a minute is up, liquid in the pan should minimal.</p><p>8. Take the pan off the heat. Wait 20-30 seconds for the pan to cool slightly. Pro tip #3: If the pan is too hot it could cause your precious cheese to clump, we don't want that!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMio8mgaxJxw8r1lHN0BZ3Uo1wh2jZV8JzH_VIxHVzGhA3LYBogaxi0GPbM74x7xIvSlqDVSbYN0ALIxoObSbc3nNGEz34E1foMe01UHIJLfq_X7vvTqr5nsSIid_6ZjuxnpmDo0Ktdofs/s2160/Progetto+senza+titolo.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2160" data-original-width="2160" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMio8mgaxJxw8r1lHN0BZ3Uo1wh2jZV8JzH_VIxHVzGhA3LYBogaxi0GPbM74x7xIvSlqDVSbYN0ALIxoObSbc3nNGEz34E1foMe01UHIJLfq_X7vvTqr5nsSIid_6ZjuxnpmDo0Ktdofs/w400-h400/Progetto+senza+titolo.png" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>9. Take your cheese paste mix and plop it on top, and begin to mix vigorously! This should result in a delightfully creamy sauce. Add extra pepper if you wish at this point. If for whatever reason your creamy factor is off, try to remedy by adding extra cheese (if too wet) or extra pasta water (if too thick). Keep stirring is key!<p></p><p>10. Mo se magna!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglT0Dg2j9kF9vakQW1EPni0_C2QQiezt2sBKErGFer38mBXV_k59bqpBX3Pz86GOva5V_VjaS57miKVQg17LJegfW-nWB0R83UIimuFTFHqCD_QpDXjL4EDh0qJ-DSsJjJvMceaYBjLrhW/s1600/IMG_1498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglT0Dg2j9kF9vakQW1EPni0_C2QQiezt2sBKErGFer38mBXV_k59bqpBX3Pz86GOva5V_VjaS57miKVQg17LJegfW-nWB0R83UIimuFTFHqCD_QpDXjL4EDh0qJ-DSsJjJvMceaYBjLrhW/w400-h300/IMG_1498.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Buon appetito!</td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-80474247876533137532020-05-26T10:33:00.001-07:002020-05-26T10:34:43.347-07:00“I Work All My Life”: Italian Immigrant Women’s Experiences in Post-World War II Schenectady<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFQTyQD4sqXSK4kweSWlITb9UrlkwPliMbJSfA6dy_ceUB-me1QYHkpaH-FrQX8Mvho78GqFpRprgrlle_QI39l5KHfQXxJzkN954HCjkhtQGtXZAXJGWWie6-4Xd-Z___zDofLXenpn0/s1600/392531_391926504183127_466292925_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="960" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFQTyQD4sqXSK4kweSWlITb9UrlkwPliMbJSfA6dy_ceUB-me1QYHkpaH-FrQX8Mvho78GqFpRprgrlle_QI39l5KHfQXxJzkN954HCjkhtQGtXZAXJGWWie6-4Xd-Z___zDofLXenpn0/s320/392531_391926504183127_466292925_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>Ciao amici!<br />
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There seemed to be some interest in reading my thesis work done at Union College on Italian Immigrant Women in Schenectady, NY, so I thought I'd make my work public to all!<br />
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Use the link below to read my full thesis written in 2012 while pursing my Bachelor's Degree in American Studies with a focus on Race and Gender at Union College.<br />
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<a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/18jhJbMsioXw6YtxaBNHf8uQPGb02k6yL/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">“I Work All My Life”: Italian Immigrant Women’s Experiences in Post-World War II Schenectady</a><br />
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Enjoy the read!<br />
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Here are some photos from my thesis presentation at Steinmetz Symposium in May 2012. The women who shared their stories for my research, were also able to attend and are pictured below.<br />
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Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-58718214700373566192020-04-04T05:50:00.003-07:002020-04-04T05:52:04.865-07:00Self Isolation: Italian StyleJust adding my own thoughts to the many many already existing blog posts, Instagram posts, newspaper articles, TikTok videos, Facebook posts etc. that already exist regarding the current world health dilemma. Hope you enjoy what's happening in my head!<br />
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I saw the first impacts of COVID-19 back in early February. February was supposed to packed with work travel, I had 6 or 8 electronic tickets sitting in my Apple Wallet, eager to be scanned at Rome Fiumicino. Berlin, Istanbul and Dubai were waiting, and by February 15th, hopes of travelling to all were lost!</div>
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Instead, I welcomed the idea at being in my beloved Roma with no work travel scheduled for the foreseeable future. I carried on life as I normally do, my home office routine, broken up by walks to the river or trips to the Testaccio Market, and bookended by long walks into the city center to find a new aperitivo spot or restaurant to meet at with friends. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmLKk8XXptfVbh9lBZwN_WAHNlGQCEFz5oxTLDI0mwQf_C12UqOsAa2DlyguFfTBmj4Sqmw4avaN6K1Md7uXaJhr0RxTJuvhCZDvR6fekb3jni2gqf0HgxC1c2W0CT51hUi7nT3nkcvlvd/s1600/IMG_8631.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmLKk8XXptfVbh9lBZwN_WAHNlGQCEFz5oxTLDI0mwQf_C12UqOsAa2DlyguFfTBmj4Sqmw4avaN6K1Md7uXaJhr0RxTJuvhCZDvR6fekb3jni2gqf0HgxC1c2W0CT51hUi7nT3nkcvlvd/s320/IMG_8631.HEIC" width="240" /></a>I knew the news buzzing around us was real, but despite that, my parents were due to arrive for a week of eating and fun, we had a half marathon to run, and our plans remained unchanged we just decided to wash our hands more frequently and avoid sick people.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6ECiqu2eCmArwtUDvvkOi-wfeL__NuiJK9agSIFO6lk4ac-IX2XwNXzqxiYCsV9sHscEWZXe_w8Y-Q9SKkJpRaI7jjjtP27sSedRSurUEuNwMkuqMqFA5Kb-KWthB-hnkAmYU1S5tkvC/s1600/IMG_8919.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6ECiqu2eCmArwtUDvvkOi-wfeL__NuiJK9agSIFO6lk4ac-IX2XwNXzqxiYCsV9sHscEWZXe_w8Y-Q9SKkJpRaI7jjjtP27sSedRSurUEuNwMkuqMqFA5Kb-KWthB-hnkAmYU1S5tkvC/s320/IMG_8919.HEIC" width="240" /></a>La mezza maratona di Napoli was stupendous, we had the best and the most difficult time running the 13.1 most beautiful roads on the coastline of Naples, Vesuvius looking down at us and encouraging us to take just one more step. We were exhausted when we finished, but accomplished! And now, our food and wine tour of Rome could commence, hell yeah! All the while we tried to have a normal vacation, the media kept whispering in our ears... something is going on and shit is about to hit the fan.<br />
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Had the best week with my <i>genitori</i> as usually, laughs, walks, pasta, vino... REPEAT.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDpMRo8GLaIzX9J_XHSnLzllS1M5fUle23FQYETlj8Bc3kvL_1PckxK_fcvoS-e9p2p_hMZYUYejmsJVoxzNiKywvt1eopcto6Y3UydmOY1K2qqztzkk6Ps5suUwJLE32cd1ki_mU_cKmT/s1600/IMG_9222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDpMRo8GLaIzX9J_XHSnLzllS1M5fUle23FQYETlj8Bc3kvL_1PckxK_fcvoS-e9p2p_hMZYUYejmsJVoxzNiKywvt1eopcto6Y3UydmOY1K2qqztzkk6Ps5suUwJLE32cd1ki_mU_cKmT/s320/IMG_9222.JPG" width="320" /></a>They left, and self quarantined in the states for 14 days due to the fact that they were returning to the states from an area of high infection. The week following their return home, we continued to hear of the rising number of cases and deaths in the North, but the impact in Rome hadn't yet been felt and the PM of Italy hadn't put restrictions on the entire country yet, just on the most impacted regions in the north, the so-called "Zone Rosse".<br />
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I didn't actually do much that week as I was restauranted-out from the time with my parents. But Sunday I did manage a quick escape to Santa Marinella with Alex:<br />
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And then Monday, 9th March. Shit hit the fan!<br />
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I don't really know how to describe it, but by the time I had fallen asleep sunday evening, and woken up Monday morning, Italy had been filled with panic and a sense of urgency. We were all listening. And that evening Conte went on the air around 9:30 pm and set the first wave of restrictions on mobility in place. I was calm as long as no one took my long wandering walks and runs on the Tevere away. Most of Italy was freaking out, and there wasn't much to be said. I focused on myself, my well-being, and the little thing I could do to avoid exacerbating the problem, because the information was there, this thing is contagious and people are dying.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCBjbcqGdlXnWd_8uvBqQG5cUDR7qVowSUGj4QHMHogMAmlbysVQpkk-Xf46NcgvwA_rhaqunbffzk-pXMGADdbtOFEaxWX6MdTnl8RARxENUCh27XDm39FzKPjOjc-iMs-2BH64auZcG4/s1600/IMG_9836.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCBjbcqGdlXnWd_8uvBqQG5cUDR7qVowSUGj4QHMHogMAmlbysVQpkk-Xf46NcgvwA_rhaqunbffzk-pXMGADdbtOFEaxWX6MdTnl8RARxENUCh27XDm39FzKPjOjc-iMs-2BH64auZcG4/s320/IMG_9836.HEIC" width="240" /></a>That week, I've walked and run more than I have in a LONG time! It was a beautiful week of weather. Sunny, warm, blue skies. It was so great just wandering around or going on a long run on the banks of the Tevere, because frankly there wasn't much else to do. I exchanged thoughts on the matter with my family, with my friends, with my boss. Everyone remaining calm and remaining reasonable about the implications of what was going on. Avoid people, social distance, practice good hygiene, wash your hands, wash them again, etc. The week with the new normal ensued, we started talking by phone, facetime, whatsapp, video calls, skype, zoom, etc. to keep social and to see our friendly faces. I walked a crap ton alone and at a safe distance from others. I got stopped casually by carabinieri once, they just wanted to see if was close enough to my home, and then casually shooed away in the opposite direction from a carabinieri a second time while running on the Tevere. No fines, no write ups. Just polite interactions to ensure I wasn't doing anything crazy!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRk_-iLWkdARpGrCTYF4sfgw5Alzn0ze9Zeef_zXGA8r2s6aVv12uLiVjxeZJS8y92Ixku4IRcNjR_D_QIPBPUCJjCHMrRVyVuO4XsLTZr9thuJ5okhuy8cyz_xS8Os4O0vRXeRIw9E5zM/s1600/IMG_9853.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRk_-iLWkdARpGrCTYF4sfgw5Alzn0ze9Zeef_zXGA8r2s6aVv12uLiVjxeZJS8y92Ixku4IRcNjR_D_QIPBPUCJjCHMrRVyVuO4XsLTZr9thuJ5okhuy8cyz_xS8Os4O0vRXeRIw9E5zM/s200/IMG_9853.HEIC" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Home Office</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpmF9zliwmaIFFSSYRAEKEaeObjgmIjmsvAfUAqHEZHZ8h_2DChH-S-AEtjnVoXeX-d4npix6CaWQZcGkQMWlaZ2BxEAprZ0mzSQ01nSI7Q_PMEqo-RUBydyHP7gHOXz9QO_URwxRRlRP/s1600/IMG_9663.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="864" data-original-width="1034" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpmF9zliwmaIFFSSYRAEKEaeObjgmIjmsvAfUAqHEZHZ8h_2DChH-S-AEtjnVoXeX-d4npix6CaWQZcGkQMWlaZ2BxEAprZ0mzSQ01nSI7Q_PMEqo-RUBydyHP7gHOXz9QO_URwxRRlRP/s200/IMG_9663.JPG" width="200" /></a>The following week, the week of 16th March, I kept questioning whether or not being alone outside was even an allowed thing to do! But for me, who has always worked at home since I've been on this side of the pond, knew that for my own sanity and health, running/walking alone was something I needed to continue to do, so I continued :) As no law came out explicitly stating otherwise. To that point, work from home is something I've always done, so for me, the transition from an office to a home office, to learning new platforms etc., wasn't a challenge I had to tackle like many of my friends who had never worked from home full time, and especially for my teacher friends who were now trying to learn to manage a classroom of children virtually... so it wasn't a crazy difficult transition for me work wise as that remained the same as always. What was difficult, was that I hadn't realized how important my previous daily work from home routines had been.<br />
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Usually I start my day at the bar in Piazza Testaccio, where the Fratelli Capone serve me up a deliciously foam cappuccino for 1,00 euro, then hand me a chocolate filled fagottino for another 0,80 euro cents. They joke with their other morning customers, and I just sit there taking it all in, their accents, their jokes between each other and the clients, their amazing ability to remember the Dottore's order of caffe lungo al vetro, and the Tiziana's cappuccino caldissimo al banco and two cornetti to take away. The routine and the sociality of it all just makes me smile! I get online at my home office desk by 9:00 or 9:15 usually and get to work.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsDy8xmMnXkvAzL43VRhCzWrllmJX50pBJ8z_fUkxV3-wH14WahrLJzQ9A5U-eVsbEPppPByYmLeJXdxvCR5_9bQXsBognKzbvSILY6ocWvB6cTwrsCT7fbTSV9gAZ77nwRbujWUxMHsGV/s1600/IMG_9808.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsDy8xmMnXkvAzL43VRhCzWrllmJX50pBJ8z_fUkxV3-wH14WahrLJzQ9A5U-eVsbEPppPByYmLeJXdxvCR5_9bQXsBognKzbvSILY6ocWvB6cTwrsCT7fbTSV9gAZ77nwRbujWUxMHsGV/s320/IMG_9808.PNG" width="179" /></a>Now my days are much different. There is a lot of pressure, blame and bullying going on in Italy and in the rest of the world now via social channels, so I've changed my ways a lot. Feels silly to have to feel guilted into staying inside my home 24/7, where there is no scientific proof that says, me, as an individual, stepping outside to take a walk in a safe manor, is threatening anyone. There is probably more evidence built up that would prove not doing it puts me in danger. Anyways, I continue to try and respect others and keep myself safe and sane by doing the small things I can. I don't go on long runs on the Tevere, but I do make loops within a safe distance of my home in my neighborhood. I buy my wine online instead of going to the enoteca. I do make trips to the supermarket which is more than allowed, and I wear my gloves, disinfect and keep safe distances while I do. I speak with my friends in the US a lot more now that this situation has been brought also on them. This is a wonderful bonus of the situation we've been put into. My friendships at home have never changed despite the fact I bail on them frequently to chase this thing called <i>love I have for Italy.</i> They are great, and we love each other and keep everything normal no matter how long we don't hear from each other because, well, LIFE. But, these weeks I get to talk with them frequently and I just cherish them so much.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijmxQZFMI6EkFth6HMEQTe00py3u6OJZifmulhs6xp8ju1cz_MRjuQYuP_AvK40Ww7O7aZ_aTQ4gkhzEXeR3km5_c-TInd8avFHu4_VkKHQJIVFbBW6Y6mVJtAMDRgVarNAUltfI9rYP6x/s1600/IMG_0270.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijmxQZFMI6EkFth6HMEQTe00py3u6OJZifmulhs6xp8ju1cz_MRjuQYuP_AvK40Ww7O7aZ_aTQ4gkhzEXeR3km5_c-TInd8avFHu4_VkKHQJIVFbBW6Y6mVJtAMDRgVarNAUltfI9rYP6x/s320/IMG_0270.PNG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nonna Bella</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMPAabX_XeL9hqx7pugAYX4GJBfdqZtk1y9ZNY-TS7m4HQdHY1gSIe0_iqPE_HPv_WSk8lNZzuVM7kPnF9IReIF5UbMx1UcaZHpV7at-dAS3tJWLS3nmoqa3s-_qgiPrXpSGwpMMc6CbT/s1600/IMG_0218.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmMPAabX_XeL9hqx7pugAYX4GJBfdqZtk1y9ZNY-TS7m4HQdHY1gSIe0_iqPE_HPv_WSk8lNZzuVM7kPnF9IReIF5UbMx1UcaZHpV7at-dAS3tJWLS3nmoqa3s-_qgiPrXpSGwpMMc6CbT/s200/IMG_0218.HEIC" width="150" /></a>The other perk is I have time to call my Nonna Vita. I've always called her on a semi regular basis, but now, since I know she is also more lonely and only accompanied by terrible news broadcasted across US and Italian TV channels, I make an effort to call her everyday and check in on her. For those who haven't set up an iPad to FaceTime or one of those smart call devices that older folks can figure out, check it out, because it has CHANGED my life being able to see my Nonna and chat with her over FaceTime while I am far away from her, and I think it has changed hers even more (I say a lot of stupid shit that makes her laugh). We chat about nothing, the weather, how she's feeling, what the news said, what she is cooking, what I am cooking, what stupid things I've done during the day, and she teaches me sooo much! Italian words I never knew, and how to throw seemling random stuff in a bowl and make delicious carciofi or meatballs. If you don't have an ingredient, who cares, just cook it some way and it's tutto buono. She appreciates good food for sure, but I think her WWII time makes it clear that, who cares if you don't have all the ingredients to make something <i>perfectly</i>, you improvise with what you have and if you're creative... in the end... e tutto buono :) God I love her and am so lucky to have her still. However, I do wish I had Nonno standing next to her to insert his corrections he feel are appropriate into whatever he has said, and I wish I could do the same with my Nonni and Grampy who I miss their kind kind kind souls so much in these days and just would love a nuggie and an over sugared ice coffee and a good game of gin rummy or rummikub together.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC2nc-Ws_7t2Jaooch0tnlE7dTdcc-yFe3wloYjLjRpX_ov2g25gkA-ENASzK6Xraue8C9AiPDkwUnzcNHQuYmCDqg3uhqPmRtdEmqGHWyX-xqwBIEOhB7RdrmeNPt6uncMyoQzH3tTSM6/s1600/IMG_9850.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC2nc-Ws_7t2Jaooch0tnlE7dTdcc-yFe3wloYjLjRpX_ov2g25gkA-ENASzK6Xraue8C9AiPDkwUnzcNHQuYmCDqg3uhqPmRtdEmqGHWyX-xqwBIEOhB7RdrmeNPt6uncMyoQzH3tTSM6/s200/IMG_9850.HEIC" width="150" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ2ThEpvbTktZSr0zZ8tsdbzu-s99fw4vcGeKCTZuBxHJzDEjU4MC_C6THnrhIXzswl3PiqPYAk0G6GvQaAAgejVcix5pvNa2axGdmeJq3mWmzX0QOqTDioUozT1W_iUL1rZi2JFt2D7Ew/s1600/IMG_0021.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ2ThEpvbTktZSr0zZ8tsdbzu-s99fw4vcGeKCTZuBxHJzDEjU4MC_C6THnrhIXzswl3PiqPYAk0G6GvQaAAgejVcix5pvNa2axGdmeJq3mWmzX0QOqTDioUozT1W_iUL1rZi2JFt2D7Ew/s320/IMG_0021.HEIC" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Throughout self-isolation so far, I've read zero books... some pages though. I bought acrylic paints and made a few prototypes on paper, but haven't had the balls to move to a canvas, because quite frankly, I suck, I am not artistic at all! I've jumped around like a crazy person in my bedroom with </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">pizzica</i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> music blaring. I've celebrated two of my favorite people's birthday's over Zoom. I've only ordered take out once. I've participated in Zumba Live classes, led by my favorite Bolognese Zumba instructor. I've cooked a lot and a lot of pasta based dishes. Instagrammed for hours. Tried to complete a Booty by Brabants workout, nearly died. Spent hours video chatting with friends and family. Watched four whole movies, a couple FRIENDS re-runs, and am staying up to date with my Grey's Anatomy episodes... I feel like I should be more productive, but that's all I can say for now. Maybe in the self-isolation extension, phase 2, I will commit to putting acrylic on canvas despite the outcome, and catch up on my pages read. Vedremo!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Prime Minister Conte will re-evaluate the self-isolation rules after April 13th!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN043Pg-Qr2PiciaUDwHBgSxv1oXyynHIdHXAjgF5bFhUt02f0Gz4pciPqUyXT11homRA_gYSmeqiG0DQlmhRS_1kzQHY5OWkeumHv14UlJOxV8yY20me5QfDg_LpwUWf3QCZ-udZSm1Rp/s1600/IMG_9887.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN043Pg-Qr2PiciaUDwHBgSxv1oXyynHIdHXAjgF5bFhUt02f0Gz4pciPqUyXT11homRA_gYSmeqiG0DQlmhRS_1kzQHY5OWkeumHv14UlJOxV8yY20me5QfDg_LpwUWf3QCZ-udZSm1Rp/s640/IMG_9887.HEIC" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">empty Testaccio streets </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuAPk3rAVtonT357T1yABqP-PxSIPiEaEw5VvoF53xlp-e-lVOH1Xx_e3WgdGZUoFCeU6wdaSGzNRABknk6cF8brDJFFsJYG80wpG5sxWoszQn2cJr9nJnVVyKcdUg3EScZYALYNhFmuSn/s1600/IMG_9736.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuAPk3rAVtonT357T1yABqP-PxSIPiEaEw5VvoF53xlp-e-lVOH1Xx_e3WgdGZUoFCeU6wdaSGzNRABknk6cF8brDJFFsJYG80wpG5sxWoszQn2cJr9nJnVVyKcdUg3EScZYALYNhFmuSn/s400/IMG_9736.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andra Tutto Bene :)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Until the next blog post which will probably consist of a list of restaurants and places I want to go when there is freedom again!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-40518183788227838542019-02-02T02:05:00.000-08:002019-02-05T05:45:49.422-08:00Puntarelle<i>Puntarelle!</i> Ever heard of them!?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDXbSCLf-_QwcLKEXP7mXDPUwZWTw09Go-0ZdXmrtvFy9nUy-K9ya-xkknxZ9vLHj1Q1A09RjH-Yi6qSlQuZyHnkY_RKY_xSeS7lDe6IJdpuoriSEMLUwYYklATchxvD_H26sPSvt7pcXS/s1600/IMG_5431.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDXbSCLf-_QwcLKEXP7mXDPUwZWTw09Go-0ZdXmrtvFy9nUy-K9ya-xkknxZ9vLHj1Q1A09RjH-Yi6qSlQuZyHnkY_RKY_xSeS7lDe6IJdpuoriSEMLUwYYklATchxvD_H26sPSvt7pcXS/s200/IMG_5431.HEIC" width="150" /></a>I certainly never had before visiting Rome. But once you learn what these winter season delicious chicory family greens are, you'll have a hard time <i>not</i> spotting them as you tour through Rome in the winter and spring seasons.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnwdBISbj7-3GUggRpnM1b9zVF6M5IowR6j2MkdxJ1UKRX7UP65VF3NnmmCAXw9fSFyLmJlP7zKe_cRa_De8JiGlScmmHNUiFvBD2TZ_FE7vtBYPtvX4NNH05lbRdMrB9OcVgQtnZtahFh/s1600/IMG_6605.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnwdBISbj7-3GUggRpnM1b9zVF6M5IowR6j2MkdxJ1UKRX7UP65VF3NnmmCAXw9fSFyLmJlP7zKe_cRa_De8JiGlScmmHNUiFvBD2TZ_FE7vtBYPtvX4NNH05lbRdMrB9OcVgQtnZtahFh/s200/IMG_6605.HEIC" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8E9QZqDkF3VEe8DioTZ9fdx2lyNilTUY_kTi6PEv3mklQ3jTfsO55wcqdhgqOyWw16EgdK35VtbUYduZ3aIGKd0BW1AaFxh_QzUJUWc7m42TFmBv8f8mARhRMjqwzZHIIOZ9Qb0Bhf6pd/s1600/IMG_5631.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8E9QZqDkF3VEe8DioTZ9fdx2lyNilTUY_kTi6PEv3mklQ3jTfsO55wcqdhgqOyWw16EgdK35VtbUYduZ3aIGKd0BW1AaFxh_QzUJUWc7m42TFmBv8f8mARhRMjqwzZHIIOZ9Qb0Bhf6pd/s200/IMG_5631.HEIC" width="150" /></a>In fact, it's almost confusing whether they are for show or to eat. Markets love to put <i>puntarelle </i>on display as they have a fun, bright, curly, green character and look so interesting to the eye. While in season you can count on endless displays of <i>puntarelle</i> in the markets ready to eat and a definite add to the <i>contorni</i> section of any Roman menu.<br />
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So what the heck are these things besides pretty?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUsBv4E1Ft2-Tg9D0Cl-gCUN4y9XNQINYIkmmcCe2fVhRt0gN8FMD_UMc5uQzofqsbg-WrV1ilAS2xJ7o1UlKgZFUzhChmDTYTwqAqZ2fklKJArkxbcQ-FKBKNKkWd1VPdxVjVyyg7F_uc/s1600/IMG_5247.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUsBv4E1Ft2-Tg9D0Cl-gCUN4y9XNQINYIkmmcCe2fVhRt0gN8FMD_UMc5uQzofqsbg-WrV1ilAS2xJ7o1UlKgZFUzhChmDTYTwqAqZ2fklKJArkxbcQ-FKBKNKkWd1VPdxVjVyyg7F_uc/s200/IMG_5247.HEIC" width="150" /></a><i>Puntarelle</i> are a type of chicory green that come in a bunch and have characteristic pointy ends to their shoots, hence why given the name <i>puntarelle</i>! They are picked in a bunch similar to chicory, but have a thicker base and are less leafy. They have a crisp, bitter taste that you'll begin to crave after you try your first dish!<br />
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How to prepare them:<br />
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Lucky for you if you're shopping in Rome, it's very is to find <i>puntarelle</i> that have already been cleaned and turned into their curly little, delicious forkfuls, but in the event you can't find cleaned shoots, here is how to clean them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkyloqv8l5TB-1zUY7eOPVx0kroortCgR9LGhbb-jvKqKxP4xOgPs4xzxA3TEU4iHTnFqXKWqQtvv4uGC35vZowEpp796Qn063muGr9zXbuLCgZ4ctmTLYwGQVvEPJ3pglXISrEk_JVY1/s1600/IMG_5283.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIkyloqv8l5TB-1zUY7eOPVx0kroortCgR9LGhbb-jvKqKxP4xOgPs4xzxA3TEU4iHTnFqXKWqQtvv4uGC35vZowEpp796Qn063muGr9zXbuLCgZ4ctmTLYwGQVvEPJ3pglXISrEk_JVY1/s200/IMG_5283.HEIC" width="150" /></a>
<li>Peel off outer green leaves, then pull shoots apart from the base of the chicory, cut off just the very ends</li>
<li>Using a type of wire tool, the individual shoots must then be cut into narrow strips. Run the shoot through a <i>tagliapuntarelle</i>, to achieve thin strips</li>
<li>Soak strips of <i>puntarelle</i> in ice water for an hour so that they curl up nicely</li>
<li>Strain the <i>puntarelle</i> and pat dry</li>
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Now you're <i>puntarelle</i> are ready to be dressed! You thankfully can almost always buy <i>puntarelle</i> prepared to this stage if you wish!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYoYYCDmArbMKFeSaOB-L1-HdLWVrV3JWgqhjpjDCM5TiYOYclIKVBOyuTnaU0s6DskzTfwwmZr4NkFtY3718eQ7YVBaP9WeLyP4b7l8ul3G7sSyiu9PsH2LZpQnKfb3apZ9WuflgIwoB/s1600/IMG_5106.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYoYYCDmArbMKFeSaOB-L1-HdLWVrV3JWgqhjpjDCM5TiYOYclIKVBOyuTnaU0s6DskzTfwwmZr4NkFtY3718eQ7YVBaP9WeLyP4b7l8ul3G7sSyiu9PsH2LZpQnKfb3apZ9WuflgIwoB/s200/IMG_5106.HEIC" width="150" /></a>The dressing! <i>Puntarelle</i> in Rome are always prepared raw with a rich dressing:</div>
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<ol>
<li>Mash 1 clove of garlic together with 4 tablespoons of EV Olive Oil</li>
<li>Add in 1-2 tablespoons of fresh lemon juice</li>
<li>Dice 2 anchovies, mash together with liquid (if you love love love anchovies, feel free to add more)</li>
<li>Voila! Easy! Now toss over your strained, dried and curly <i>puntarelle</i>! Enjoy!</li>
</ol>
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Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-18585831364675558102018-12-04T15:28:00.004-08:002020-12-30T13:32:27.503-08:00ItaLIAmipiace's Street Eats | Roma<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4JKuqKtEruhy5rN7iYEajKOR7wI96brWiIcPmwElfo1UJHhk1XqNbmY80A8j1sweuFtU8xAf-XirdTh9l8-7qtW1BzY-7c1Wpy4GA5JiqWg1qJH5SQYBiIVVBQCzPuSEvLZPzcKRI-Dma/s1600/Street+Eats.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4JKuqKtEruhy5rN7iYEajKOR7wI96brWiIcPmwElfo1UJHhk1XqNbmY80A8j1sweuFtU8xAf-XirdTh9l8-7qtW1BzY-7c1Wpy4GA5JiqWg1qJH5SQYBiIVVBQCzPuSEvLZPzcKRI-Dma/s640/Street+Eats.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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Everyone knows that Italy is one of the food capitals of the world. It would be a lie to say that <i>uno non si mangia bene in italia</i> (that one can't eat well in Italy). Yes, you have your tourist traps or every now and again you choose the disappointing dish off the menu while your friend is digging their fork in to the most delectable dish and unfortunately for you, doesn't share. Reality is, the food here is bomb. But let me be careful when I say the food here is bomb. The Italian food here is bomb. McDonald's is the same, and Greek food can be good, but don't come to Italy if you don't like Italian food because if you're in the hunt for a greasy burger, or some fresh sushi, you're not going to find it here!<br />
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However, what you can find for a little price here is extraordinary. If you're like me, eating at restaurants can get overwhelming and expensive. Every now and again it's perfect to have that antipasto, a large plate of carbonara and some <i>contorni</i> (sides, ie. potatoes, green veggies, salad etc.), but it's impossible for your stomach to do that every meal while you're traveling and your wallet will also feel the impact.<br />
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Lucky for you, Italy has some of the best street food around, and you'll pay so little for food that packs a punch and keeps you satiated.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">1. Suppli</span><br />
The Roman fried rice ball that keeps you smiling and full. Not to be confused with <i>arancini</i> which similarly, are friend rice balls, but <i>arancini</i> are from Sicily, are generally filled with ragu and peas and are round or conical in shape, whereas Suppli are Roman, generally have mozzarella at the center and are longer in shape.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi427NNjW-dOvSKlFBfP3RYuU4maU35vub9aVxVXHb5byEJggZkJrrpf2xI6pSh9dDd27Kaa1hP_-5PT-s1jfV291ZBJpxyqCD75CIO9pxTye9pOl5ZdVZPj9ZpA46ObAgaE0GizAkEoGXV/s1600/IMG_3419.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi427NNjW-dOvSKlFBfP3RYuU4maU35vub9aVxVXHb5byEJggZkJrrpf2xI6pSh9dDd27Kaa1hP_-5PT-s1jfV291ZBJpxyqCD75CIO9pxTye9pOl5ZdVZPj9ZpA46ObAgaE0GizAkEoGXV/s200/IMG_3419.HEIC" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this is called "al telefono" <br />
check out the cheese!</td></tr>
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I'm not a <i>Suppli</i> expert and I definitely haven't come close to trying even 1% of the vendors in Rome who have <i>Suppli</i> on their menu. But I can make a few educated guesses about how, when and where these rice bal<span style="font-family: inherit;">ls pieces of heaven should be indulged.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Supplì Roma</i></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiy6gReP4811kt_QYk_N088B3FpJ3RrFlDBYjTyHkWFzKxNJ5XfptataPSQOB5nVcHozVP_ALcbuo_iloYTIH_uXHC3BGWmJhy3Nl6BjcRux66Oi280IH86TF0YfRCj2u6qFVhBpYTzBz3/s1600/IMG_3525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1280" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiy6gReP4811kt_QYk_N088B3FpJ3RrFlDBYjTyHkWFzKxNJ5XfptataPSQOB5nVcHozVP_ALcbuo_iloYTIH_uXHC3BGWmJhy3Nl6BjcRux66Oi280IH86TF0YfRCj2u6qFVhBpYTzBz3/s200/IMG_3525.JPG" width="160" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cacio e pepe</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-small;">Via di S. Francesco a Ripa, 137</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">If crowds aren't your thing, arrive here early for the lunch hour, 11:30am, or late, 3:00pm, because if you hit this joint at peak lunch hour you'll have to fight your way to the counter to get in on the delicious balls of rice heaven! Try the traditional <i>suppli al telefono, </i>and just split that guy in half to understand their nickname of <i>al telephone</i> or <i>on the phone</i>. The renditions on the traditional suppli here are simply exquisite as well, so save room for a <i>carbonara </i>or <i>cacio pepe </i>version!</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">Tip: Always go for some <i>fritti</i> when you're out at a traditional pizzeria, you can't go wrong!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">2. Pizza al taglio</span><br />
Pizza a taglio is where it's at! You can get such a filling meal that can be so dynamic for just a couple of euros if you know the right place to go and how to keep your order varied to keep lunch exciting! Generally, when you go to get pizza on the street to go "<i>pizza al taglio</i>" it's important your eyes aren't bigger than your stomach. Careful, because you pay by weight of the pizza. If you pick a slice with large mozzarella balls, it will be more expensive because it's heavier (but also great choice, because fresh bufala mozzarella is delicious on pizza!).<br />
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Some tips of the <i>al taglio </i>trade:<br />
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<ul>
<li>Generally, you order by a series of hand motions and the server motions with his scissors where you'd like your slice cut! Don't be afraid to ask for a smaller or bigger piece than what they've initially suggested!</li>
<li>Sometimes the pizza has been sitting in the counter for some time - make sure you ask to have it reheated if you're going to eat it immediately. <i>Puoi riscaldarla per favore?</i></li>
<li>If you're picking that slice with the fresh ingredients; ie. prosciutto crude, a mozzarella ball etc. you may be advised that these pizzas don't reheat well, so choose your flavor wisely!</li>
<li>Paying: You always pay <i>after</i>! You'll pick your slice, have it weighed, then the server will give you a receipt with the total that you take to the register and pay after you ordered!</li>
</ul>
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<i>Forno Campo de' Fiori</i><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Piazza Campo de' Fiori, 22</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Campo de' Fiori is an especially fun square, and it's even better if you can grab a slice of pizza from this delicious forno. This is a powerhouse for crisp, hot pizza. Don't let the crowds deter you. Get your place at the counter and get your eye contact with the server to avoid being stepped over by the Italians who know how to get served first! There are two sections to this forno split by a street in the northeast corner of the square. Pizza is server from the store front on the right of Via dei Cappellari.</span></span><br />
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<i>Forno Roscioli</i><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Via dei Chiavari, 34</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid9mAEVn1VjcWeixNjJbyi1_SXCKJVC5sDxN_texqKsnH_xLK81DFBTMOHOvIPxyn9jmIh1262QtkTRwsd3Lu-cEwgZCXP5tVQXhV51YcLRO4ybEb1zM5EuO4BcSa0XyXNrQn5fkU_E1EZ/s1600/IMG_3394.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid9mAEVn1VjcWeixNjJbyi1_SXCKJVC5sDxN_texqKsnH_xLK81DFBTMOHOvIPxyn9jmIh1262QtkTRwsd3Lu-cEwgZCXP5tVQXhV51YcLRO4ybEb1zM5EuO4BcSa0XyXNrQn5fkU_E1EZ/s200/IMG_3394.HEIC" width="200" /></a><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Tucked in the streets on the </span><span style="color: #222222;">opposite</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;"> side of the Forno Campo de' Fiori, this forno is hustling and bustling as well. Same tricks go here. Head straight to the counter, pick your piece and receive the receipt. While the heat up your pizza here they expect you to go pay the receipt, otherwise they'll hold your pizza hostage behind the counter. While Forno Campo de' Fiori has very traditional and crisp slices, Forno Roscioli can get creative, so don't be afraid to ask what kind of pizza your looking at or to ask for a suggestion.</span></span><br />
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<i>Alice</i><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">All over town!</span><br />
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Alice isn't your fancy Forno with Pizza al Taglio, but it's a solid staple that won't lead you wrong and you'll find it in every neighborhood in Rome. I think it's important to always have a place you can rely on. Crisp crust you can count on. Great customer service. And here you don't need to worry about throngs of people cutting you off in line! All of their locations generally have seating, so you don't feel rushed here. They offer free water at their tables as well. If you're Kosher, they have a Kosher location situated in the Jewish Quarter. You can always trust Alice!<br />
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<i>Pizzarium Bonci</i><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Via della Meloria, 43</span></span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIO8UgQoCy8AX5urA_InX78SG8nGEKb-Z9JZ_8X2Se5jv4xZ80bUfiGEKaa-hoR0yXqTE3gdWv8uI6KF4347O0CsrCPfgd4Wskzg6hKYFqGPK8Wnyah4nED5bCJVRErl4_6j8Zfh9Kj23S/s1600/IMG_3039.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIO8UgQoCy8AX5urA_InX78SG8nGEKb-Z9JZ_8X2Se5jv4xZ80bUfiGEKaa-hoR0yXqTE3gdWv8uI6KF4347O0CsrCPfgd4Wskzg6hKYFqGPK8Wnyah4nED5bCJVRErl4_6j8Zfh9Kj23S/s200/IMG_3039.HEIC" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">carciofi and good stuff by Bonci</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitLcqFYpqF_JMAKP0LDgqNP6zAOfrl4ILiQ_FLKBS5zW3KFmMrb1KCN5dfnvkQ2deG2S1Zg9hzd4cvHpvhkM2T7Wps7CFMSTr-G7Ow6AftzwCDEVqwKJIJITn-6LpG6977DYDpVOe6FGVq/s1600/IMG_3033.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitLcqFYpqF_JMAKP0LDgqNP6zAOfrl4ILiQ_FLKBS5zW3KFmMrb1KCN5dfnvkQ2deG2S1Zg9hzd4cvHpvhkM2T7Wps7CFMSTr-G7Ow6AftzwCDEVqwKJIJITn-6LpG6977DYDpVOe6FGVq/s200/IMG_3033.HEIC" width="150" /></a><span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Katie Parla is a regular at this joint and recommends it to all, and I can endorse her recommendation. Don't let the location deter you. Plan to stop at this beyond delicious pizza joint on your day visiting the Vatican, and also allow yourself time to explore the upscale neighborhood of Prati at the same time. This pizza is the perfect combination of the perfect crunch on a crust, and perfect dough hiding under a clever combo of fresh ingredients. Be warned though, this isn't your cheap eats Pizza al taglio for 2 euro 50. Bonci has a weight to it, and with the weight comes a larger bill, but I think it's definitely worth the visit and extra euros spent! Go big when you visit and try a number of different flavors, they cut up your pizza in small manageable bites and load a tray for you to enjoy outside leaning at their bar table outside. If you're a beer lover, find your artisanal beer in the fridge, and if you're afraid of lines, yes there's always a line, but you take a number to get served, so there is order to the chaos! Make sure you hear when your number is called though, otherwise they'll scoot right on to the next number in line!!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">3. Panini</span><br />
I hate to tell you all, but this idea of panini (plural) in the states is so entertaining. Rule number 1 - paninis don't exist here! When you say <i>panini</i> you're saying <i>sandwiches!</i> Hence why the title of this section is titled <i>Panini</i> ;) So, in Italy, when you'd like a sandwich, you go for a <i>panino</i> and they can come all shapes and sizes! My favorites spots so far below!<br />
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<i>Forno Campo de' Fiori</i><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Piazza Campo de' Fiori, 22</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">As I mentioned above in the Pizza section, Forno Campo de' Fiori has two store fronts located in Campo de' Fiori. One </span><span style="color: #222222;">hosting</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;"> pizza, and the other delicious and painfully simple sandwiches. Don't go here if you're looking for that sandwich loaded with goods. This is my go-to for a mortadella sandwich, <i>e basta</i>. They serve their sandwiches on perfectly baked and salted thin focaccia and stuff it with just the right amount of ingredients. Simplicity here is king!</span></span><br />
<i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><br /></i>
<i style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">Mordi e Vai</i><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Nuovo Mercato Comunale di Testaccio, Via Beniamino Franklin, 12/E</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxmuJwonPhMq9tuOLEV5ubVUY0UOHJmW-ZETTseRxX8dCo4Payhr26OC3vtPLNv6_pwNIveHppwtwVgwSOW-VDG-SbIsTZzo-9ro8yMKz3Mh30DE2kKp3VVyTd0FfDrbkXVZ7rzKuO1ej/s1600/IMG_3340.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixxmuJwonPhMq9tuOLEV5ubVUY0UOHJmW-ZETTseRxX8dCo4Payhr26OC3vtPLNv6_pwNIveHppwtwVgwSOW-VDG-SbIsTZzo-9ro8yMKz3Mh30DE2kKp3VVyTd0FfDrbkXVZ7rzKuO1ej/s200/IMG_3340.HEIC" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">vitella e carciofi</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">Another Katie Parla </span><span style="color: #222222;">recommendation</span><span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">. Given I'm local to the Testaccio market, I just can't keep away. Mordi e Vai is one of the sandwich staples located inside. There's always people waiting on sandwiches, and the owner is always there working away! They specialize in various types of meat sandwiches, you can't go wrong. Unless your vegetarian ;) Definitely worth a try!</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Piadineria</i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Nuovo Mercato Comunale di Testaccio, Via Beniamino Franklin, Banco 21</span></span><br />
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After living in Bologna for 2 years, <i>piadine</i> seem to be a way of life and a craving that I just can't give up! Although this is not a traditionally Roman dish, if you're into dedicant ingredients stuffed in a wrap like bread, the piadineria is for you! My go-to piadina is the basic prosciutto crudo, stracchino and rucola mix, but when in season I go for <i>carciofi</i> and pecorino. Delish!<br />
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Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-2977858168025933472018-11-11T05:09:00.001-08:002018-11-12T07:15:01.265-08:00An Ode to Frances Mayes: Postcard Writing 101<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue"; font-size: 11pt;">Remember that scene from Under the Tuscan Sun where Frances helps her fellow tour mate write a postcard to his mom? I feel like I am in that kind of scene right now sitting in Piazza del Fico. </span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Dear Mom & Dad,</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBUl6PjW60vT-TgTzgjcCFpq265fxruco3SH_DwdMz8ot5_2aIlREUPfqyfNtajqNADdeDbcVkdwRxzrfcHE4xqlyvEwKdomG7C1nfdZZGTHFFgw1x0hRWCPCstOfQ4doYFiK3sRYLihvi/s1600/B2D5CE28-196C-449E-9349-02F53374BA67.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1062" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBUl6PjW60vT-TgTzgjcCFpq265fxruco3SH_DwdMz8ot5_2aIlREUPfqyfNtajqNADdeDbcVkdwRxzrfcHE4xqlyvEwKdomG7C1nfdZZGTHFFgw1x0hRWCPCstOfQ4doYFiK3sRYLihvi/s400/B2D5CE28-196C-449E-9349-02F53374BA67.jpeg" width="397" /></a><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">I’m entranced by Piazza del Fico, my iPad is posed up on a wooden table, I’m typing away as I sip on my </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;">birra chiara</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;"> and nibble on </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;">taralli </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">and </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;">patatine </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">brought to me by the Roman waitress</span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic;">. </span><span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">There is a fountain in the corner of the piazza, the constant drip of it’s stream creating a calming oasis in the north west corner of the square. The constant chatter of frie</span><span style="font-size: 11pt;">nds and family enjoying their lunch at the base of the Fig Tree that makes this piazza a place to gather. The green leaves of the fig tree also beckon this square to be a place where vibrant colors meet; cool travertine grey, terracotta red, worn green shutters, charcoal cobblestones, blue sky, sunshine. I feel like this is my place.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Then a large tour group comes and ruins my peaceful observations... ahaha, Rome.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">A presto. xxx.</span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none; font-size: 11pt;">Lia</span></div>
Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-59912440607500288612018-11-09T03:16:00.003-08:002018-11-09T03:17:33.803-08:00Ciao ciao, for now!<br />
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<i>Ciao a tutti!!! </i>How long have I been talking about moving back to Italy? You guessed it. Many would say I never stopped talking about moving back to Italy. Who knows what crazy ideal or <i>grass is greener </i>scenario has been stuck in my head for so long, but the moral of the story is I couldn't/wouldn't/shouldn't ever get the idea out of my head as long as I didn't actually move back at some point in my life!<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">So, now is the time!</span><br />
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Holy crap.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztC5wmVmG5nPoux1lDhxTFGmv_B6FF2yGKAWE2XYB15DHiA3r8nvg4yQxKTu_3MG-10yovqIk-KxFSEfNx0e6YjXkKq8NjNXCJsrSD6ke2usjZPvaM6YsPQoy4iyI9n0uIGRPHAtpKliK/s1600/IMG_2858.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgztC5wmVmG5nPoux1lDhxTFGmv_B6FF2yGKAWE2XYB15DHiA3r8nvg4yQxKTu_3MG-10yovqIk-KxFSEfNx0e6YjXkKq8NjNXCJsrSD6ke2usjZPvaM6YsPQoy4iyI9n0uIGRPHAtpKliK/s200/IMG_2858.HEIC" width="150" /></a>I'm doing it!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHKF4c23eT1-9hfa-bAGBMfksOfGbDSwlAPjZt5fUsw71lehVRZpcGOLNpifkyZXheRVw-nB1bXYuscdVwFCyfP6meDK7uAc-qzo1Tui3Oyw6FjyZluG4JmdmJa2iVDV5uFrG__MEg4Es/s1600/IMG_2816.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHKF4c23eT1-9hfa-bAGBMfksOfGbDSwlAPjZt5fUsw71lehVRZpcGOLNpifkyZXheRVw-nB1bXYuscdVwFCyfP6meDK7uAc-qzo1Tui3Oyw6FjyZluG4JmdmJa2iVDV5uFrG__MEg4Es/s200/IMG_2816.HEIC" width="200" /></a><br />
I have finally found a job that isn't a step back career-wise and is something I will truly enjoy, and the best part is, I can do it from Italy! <i>Ci credi?</i> I don't!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1VAGJOGiQmcQGnzrg91AsDTDQhwrPsxlX_XL7895tmCzcnondHiRDNuzfMTOPZNAyF2ctjgatv_jXVCcCfO6UOoJBdOsodgHk1IgbODZHmGCLg9iC6_RAii-INfJSsp_1qF5pM_k8xqap/s1600/IMG_2075.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1VAGJOGiQmcQGnzrg91AsDTDQhwrPsxlX_XL7895tmCzcnondHiRDNuzfMTOPZNAyF2ctjgatv_jXVCcCfO6UOoJBdOsodgHk1IgbODZHmGCLg9iC6_RAii-INfJSsp_1qF5pM_k8xqap/s200/IMG_2075.HEIC" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBycS06dxrWw5brd5WSMa9cvr4tr2Kjcy48_ab3Ju4Pb734euMbDfwBLg9hjBj0rHG6X-_cym3ehzPuBzEddCmeXqMlRmMOwdzkDdfZ1sqnejI6cFvdF3dOstEc6hXwGXh81VvtxkMztrk/s1600/IMG_2078.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBycS06dxrWw5brd5WSMa9cvr4tr2Kjcy48_ab3Ju4Pb734euMbDfwBLg9hjBj0rHG6X-_cym3ehzPuBzEddCmeXqMlRmMOwdzkDdfZ1sqnejI6cFvdF3dOstEc6hXwGXh81VvtxkMztrk/s200/IMG_2078.HEIC" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWjiX6IiCK2XNJcEh2BY8INp60MmfMCLYn-1-ixL-NXRT_MGbWguveXOwUVPxj8PXUa6vu-f0TKeL6FbfMo0ZsjM9kMh_uGz2ZnGODHYpse8rGDfAPL9bAW9haDtsK9Nu-h8E872XZ30UT/s1600/IMG_1851.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWjiX6IiCK2XNJcEh2BY8INp60MmfMCLYn-1-ixL-NXRT_MGbWguveXOwUVPxj8PXUa6vu-f0TKeL6FbfMo0ZsjM9kMh_uGz2ZnGODHYpse8rGDfAPL9bAW9haDtsK9Nu-h8E872XZ30UT/s200/IMG_1851.HEIC" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6HDMlWUQ-rIZ9IzmvKWUXYubztxX4M_cq80ayoV0wfqboNip1TjO5nm2hZN-5i8hMyAk1BVp-6ojNpr1HCbupSpHG_2QK2wjRNvO50VVmPPnYFtOyhQAWx7q3XGt0bQfobLeuN14hCpf/s1600/IMG_1787.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6HDMlWUQ-rIZ9IzmvKWUXYubztxX4M_cq80ayoV0wfqboNip1TjO5nm2hZN-5i8hMyAk1BVp-6ojNpr1HCbupSpHG_2QK2wjRNvO50VVmPPnYFtOyhQAWx7q3XGt0bQfobLeuN14hCpf/s200/IMG_1787.HEIC" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChR1Mc_6LVpL8MB5t-hb86EK7pzAjy6hs4AazMdfGcqiTgQtnPcLv0UGzTRa1Vtf3KbQpXaHdvNwcXG8mDy9IhhYx9oO9w7w4ln3TN2PM9HnQcsWuTawj9AtiJh8-IQgj67vfpUsG0l8Y/s1600/IMG_1324.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgChR1Mc_6LVpL8MB5t-hb86EK7pzAjy6hs4AazMdfGcqiTgQtnPcLv0UGzTRa1Vtf3KbQpXaHdvNwcXG8mDy9IhhYx9oO9w7w4ln3TN2PM9HnQcsWuTawj9AtiJh8-IQgj67vfpUsG0l8Y/s200/IMG_1324.HEIC" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh93_Nadw-GqQ248DED0nTjGHOOEw0raz2QtYVcgMMUNoiFr_XA8JQlo1Yny44Kl0NGwXvQcuWyQ91p9rwQJKT8yloihDE3wCnMPttmYJ2mZ06IZ0pNmJC4eQaiwfPRd_CtdNg7IYP_gFu2/s1600/IMG_2770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1470" data-original-width="828" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh93_Nadw-GqQ248DED0nTjGHOOEw0raz2QtYVcgMMUNoiFr_XA8JQlo1Yny44Kl0NGwXvQcuWyQ91p9rwQJKT8yloihDE3wCnMPttmYJ2mZ06IZ0pNmJC4eQaiwfPRd_CtdNg7IYP_gFu2/s200/IMG_2770.JPG" width="112" /></a>Since I first heard of the job in mid-August, applied, interviewed (over the phone) while I was coincidentally in Rome trying to block out the deafening sound of the campanile Sant'Agnese in Agone (coincidence?), and finally accepted the job in early October, I haven't even had a chance to think! Now, alone and in the airport, I'm finally realizing this is happening, and I can't quite figure out how I feel about it!<br />
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Yes, there's pure excitement over the fact that I have an awesome new job and I get to do it working out of la citta eterna, but I am also scared out of my mind and am going to miss all of my awesome friends and family who I am leaving behind (for the moment) in the states!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfU9tUXhefmk_MPzkOOS_aTAJKHRTk4KNL1XDIQCCmQak6qmVnxTy0CIfbYlFJRL2lFYC-TTWIe6aD6l4tW8_3Xe-5ENcyxVQqiruL0PdGPV1jR0TZ8vaGc_dJ08ooyGe-3K83Ap2NrUo/s1600/IMG_1691.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfU9tUXhefmk_MPzkOOS_aTAJKHRTk4KNL1XDIQCCmQak6qmVnxTy0CIfbYlFJRL2lFYC-TTWIe6aD6l4tW8_3Xe-5ENcyxVQqiruL0PdGPV1jR0TZ8vaGc_dJ08ooyGe-3K83Ap2NrUo/s200/IMG_1691.HEIC" width="200" /></a>For those of you who have made a big move away from your hometown or from your normal life, you know the amount of love that is poured into your life immediately prior to your departure. The second I accepted this new job and had a ticket booked, I wanted to soak up every free second I had with my family and friends, and I was lucky to find out that they wanted to reciprocate. Almost every night in October was filled with family and friends helping me check off very American and Boston traditions that I needed to soak up before my departure. I love you all so much and I knew that going from a month packed of love and seeing all of you was going to make being a loner in Rome even harder, but I wouldn't have done it any other way! THANK YOU ALL!!! <3<br />
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---- Arrived in Rome ---- Monday, November 5, 2018 ----<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1.90 Euro, Doppiozero</td></tr>
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Arriving with the the goal in mind to network like crazy and to never say "no" to a invite, I quickly felt the impact of loneliness after I left my bags in my AirBnb and set off to walk around this fabulous city all alone. The past month of constant plans made with good friends and family exploring new places in Boston was fabulous, but it really set me up to feel a big empty void upon arrival here! "What on earth was I thinking?" I kept thinking to myself. It probably didn't help that upon arrival, my AirBnB host said I could meet him early at 11am, pouring rain out, thank goodness there was a courtyard with an over hang, because finally at 11:50 he shows up. He helps me into the apartment which is a total mess from the people who had stayed in it before. I hadn't understood that he was letting me in early to a dirty apartment, so dreams of taking a nap were quickly demolished and I was extremely disappointed in the state of the apartment and the size. So my only option was to go wander, and guess what? It was raining sideways out and I failed to pack an umbrella, woops! However, there was a silver lining to the AirBnB situation. The landlord's name was Roberto Serafini, which I noted immediately as I rang the bell, so I consider that a very good omen! My mother's maiden name is Serafini, and her brother, my uncle's name is Roberto! What are the odds!?<br />
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Quickly after I left the house, negativity got the better of me. I didn't think it would happen immediately, but it did. As I strolled toward the city center in the pouring rain, the orange washed facades and quiet chatter of the occasional Italian passerbyers made me feel unusually lonely when normally you can't rip the wide smirk off my face. But I said, hey, <i>normale</i>. I can't expect to move to a new country and be instantly happy when I don't know anyone there!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Carbonara from Da Francesco</td></tr>
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I decided on stopping by my go-to carbonara restaurant, <a href="http://www.dafrancesco.it/" target="_blank">Da Francesco</a>, in my favorite Piazza del Fico, for a warm carbonara welcome to Rome. No regrets on that choice ;) Temporary happiness!<br />
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By the end of my rain soaked afternoon, dodging street vendors who were selling much needed umbrellas (I refuse to buy umbrellas from them, a point of pride or something?), the day took a surprising turn of events! The rain seemed to subside, I got settled in my CLEAN AirBnB, yes, to determine that the internet service couldn't even open a website (sigh, again), BUT, the best part was, my good friend Lindsey connected me with one of her friends who happened to be in Rome, and we had already made a dinner date for that evening, so I wouldn't spend my first day completely alone! How exciting!<br />
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Jeanne and I got along splendidly! She took me to <a href="https://giuliettapizzeria.it/?lang=en" target="_blank">Giulietta</a>, a modern, chic pizzeria that serves both pizza Napoletana and pizza Romana (pinsa). Sharing our Roman secrets and our passion for Italy, dinner flew by and we were naturally ready for our post-dinner <i>passeggiata</i>. We strolled through the neighborhood of Testaccio then crossed the river to meander through the picturesque streets of Trastevere. It was in that moment enjoying the <i>passeggiata</i> that I realized, yes, I am going to miss all my friends and family back home SO much, but I am in Rome, and the only way to enjoy it is to continue exploring, throw yourself into your new life and smile! Since that realization, which I'm glad happened so quickly with the help of Jeanne, I haven't been able to wipe the smirk off my face!<br />
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So, my goal as I get back into Italian life is to share my struggles and my successes, and to also inform you of where I find the best frothed cappuccinos, the best carbonara, the perfect bars, the most friendly piazzas, the markets, the shops, the wine bars, cute old Italian cars, ecc. so that you too can enjoy the Rome that I love!<br />
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A presto. xxx.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirC6Hx-CTROVIREe0Iqxg1-z5_hWWuCwfdw_AmzZsIdKZmUv7qVjyQ-JYHRVwyuP0F8GA_hR_hSX1kQ7eoyrG8zUBSm1-_hfsOJNi2Q5xSP3ZFasfWYrPTFoUERrlebGpr-pUQZPN_ml76/s1600/IMG_2841.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirC6Hx-CTROVIREe0Iqxg1-z5_hWWuCwfdw_AmzZsIdKZmUv7qVjyQ-JYHRVwyuP0F8GA_hR_hSX1kQ7eoyrG8zUBSm1-_hfsOJNi2Q5xSP3ZFasfWYrPTFoUERrlebGpr-pUQZPN_ml76/s200/IMG_2841.HEIC" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTkUOq50ytICVK6cqV8cdOkUssypgCoIadr8QTE-GfSGRuSaSsj_fIVlWH_n3HMnUzp5M4tascb37LbnzevYMn_Mteilhsaalr42-Pjz4nx4Ybqz-TPBSoDSwLHnPLP502qp4tZwyFAMOz/s1600/IMG_2834.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTkUOq50ytICVK6cqV8cdOkUssypgCoIadr8QTE-GfSGRuSaSsj_fIVlWH_n3HMnUzp5M4tascb37LbnzevYMn_Mteilhsaalr42-Pjz4nx4Ybqz-TPBSoDSwLHnPLP502qp4tZwyFAMOz/s200/IMG_2834.HEIC" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGT7-vBToWojaNvo71hjnej6bmKjIwf_Tu5aD3WDX5j9C5MaRC5Ovi4CcCpDASqj6GDsoGL2MPSHF-KA9E37KmFsg0UWjkoIX57Hb3ais8Z6J2Vcbz1zVR7MkylmzRkymvhVL1rfAXSGBa/s1600/IMG_2304.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGT7-vBToWojaNvo71hjnej6bmKjIwf_Tu5aD3WDX5j9C5MaRC5Ovi4CcCpDASqj6GDsoGL2MPSHF-KA9E37KmFsg0UWjkoIX57Hb3ais8Z6J2Vcbz1zVR7MkylmzRkymvhVL1rfAXSGBa/s200/IMG_2304.HEIC" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-67314206359956021452017-10-06T18:26:00.001-07:002017-10-06T18:26:51.104-07:00Capodanno spent in Chamonix<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tFCpQvCCSawrLVBVsjuQHaltD3QmHqp0f_-oclq4BjrvFO6XVLH0HZ5v5IxvRStVBH565nRW6GRf1qYyJYSg8vlFqerC17j7FWNRcK0Vh4_-49tV6L5_WJdPT41wDhogfHdGaYcY42JQ/s1600/capodanno+%2540+chamonix.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tFCpQvCCSawrLVBVsjuQHaltD3QmHqp0f_-oclq4BjrvFO6XVLH0HZ5v5IxvRStVBH565nRW6GRf1qYyJYSg8vlFqerC17j7FWNRcK0Vh4_-49tV6L5_WJdPT41wDhogfHdGaYcY42JQ/s320/capodanno+%2540+chamonix.jpg" width="320" /></a>Folks... I'm on a blog roll! Let's hear it! (Apparently I started to write this and thought I'd have it out in back-to-back weeks, but I think monthly is on a roll as well!)<br />
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From Natale we move swiftly to Capodanno. After some lovely days spent alone in Bologna, and some lovely d<span style="text-align: center;">ays spent with Family in Firenze, I was off on the Frecciarossa to Torino Porta Susa to spend a couple of days with my dear friend Serena and her crew in Chamonix :)</span><br />
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Serena met me at the station ecstatic to see me :) She is the sweetest! She helped carry my oversized luggage to her precious little old van/car that she had just recently learned how to drive. All loaded in, we were off to run some errands and make some visits before returning home to pack for our weekend in the alps!<br />
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Serena was moving to Galway for work 2 days after New Year's, so our pre adventure errands included packing up and also making visits to her Nonni since she wouldn't seem them prior to leaving for Galway. We putted around Torino in Serena's little van-car, making our first stop at the Sicilian nonni who I stayed with years ago in Mazara del Vallo. What stuck in my mind from that visit in Sicily was the gamberoni and other delicious seafood treats cooked with love by her Nonna, holding on tight as her Nonno drove us around in his little car beeping at everything in sight, and how could I forget the chocolate doughy pillows of the BOMBOLONE!? It was lovely to see them again even just for a short while. But what was even better was going with her to see her Nonno on her mother's side who I hadn't met before, or if I had, it was a long long time ago. I had the best evening chatting with Serena, her Nonno and Carla (her Nonno's wife). Carla was the sweetest lady, whose cooking skills were unbelievable. She made a delicious multi-course meal for us, pasta, meat, vegetables, and then we rounded out the meal with a little dopo cena liquore insisted by her Nonno. As the head of the house and table, Serena's nonno reminded me how much I missed my nonno, and I knew how tough it was going to be for her to leave him for Galway.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgLEn3KP9HEZ9Hp-PoerGSTPlwQU29PTGIYHKIBeX6cjtaldYHUXCFCyP82_U9ht7l_AglXjNd9rp4MHID3Fs-hBscpu9zTvAt0T9NAc8R99HTT39OJaz6XGvCFlIejwZnWC4UO-TmV6i/s1600/IMG_8319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjgLEn3KP9HEZ9Hp-PoerGSTPlwQU29PTGIYHKIBeX6cjtaldYHUXCFCyP82_U9ht7l_AglXjNd9rp4MHID3Fs-hBscpu9zTvAt0T9NAc8R99HTT39OJaz6XGvCFlIejwZnWC4UO-TmV6i/s320/IMG_8319.jpg" width="240" /></a>Back at Serena's apartment we organized, packed and chatted. The plan was for the crew to meet at her place before 9:00am and to be on the road towards Chamonix by 9:00. I was pleasantly surprised that we actually stuck to that plan! We had clothes, ski gear, and food for 3 days to pack among two cars... rather, two Italian cars. We managed to pack everything up and we were on the (short) road to Chamonix. I co-piloted Diego's car with Maddalena in the back, my two new friends :) And Serena drove up with Andrea and his friend Marco. With a quick stop at an Autogrill to use the bathroom and to get one of my top five cappuccinos ever, we were quickly paying the toll to enter the Mont Blanc tunnel on our way into France!<br />
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Driving through the Valle d'Aosta was fabulous. It was fun seeing the landscape change from the city of Torino with the mountains framing the horizon, towards the base of those very mountains in just two hours time. Architecture changed as well. A-framed houses sprinkled the hills between fields and small towns stuck into the mountainside. Driving through the Mont Blanc tunnel was also a treat! What a L O N G tunnel! At nearly 10 miles long, we were underground for what seemed like at least 20 minutes, then just like that, we were on the French side in the base of the French alps!<br />
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Cristina's apartment sat at the base of Le Brevent, about 20 meters away from the gondola to take you up. Part of a larger A-frame building, all of the rooms looked directly out at the mountain through large windows. It was the perfect ski chalet set in the perfect location, we were set up well to have a lovely new years in Chamonix, the only thing was, it was looking like there wasn't going to be much snow to ski!<br />
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We got our stuff settled then headed out toward the town with Gaetano and Cristina to grab some lunch. We ate outside in the main square of town, we enjoyed a delicious beer and a croque monsieur with the drastic backdrop of the French alps winking at us with every bite and sip. We strolled the town and the little Christmas stalls remaining from the holiday then returned to the house to prep to go do our grocery shopping for the next couple of days.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfyCvt-ZvKP7LX9q0oGMdloJS465lxyzPSbYMeo8OHsAxIyujDs7ZjuboMt63vsWyiyLPX7sgZPrGO9qPhx4yr2gEBnrlSCxrYAEP70uoLi4E0b-SvjQxXL-PMgawdOqx-0-bPxD81cyX/s1600/IMG_8327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfyCvt-ZvKP7LX9q0oGMdloJS465lxyzPSbYMeo8OHsAxIyujDs7ZjuboMt63vsWyiyLPX7sgZPrGO9qPhx4yr2gEBnrlSCxrYAEP70uoLi4E0b-SvjQxXL-PMgawdOqx-0-bPxD81cyX/s200/IMG_8327.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
Mission Carrefour was an interesting one! 3 men, 3 women, walk into a Carrefour without a grocery list, task at hand: 3 days of snacks, 3 days of drinks, 2 days of lunches and a new year's eve feast! Oh, p.s. don't forget the cotechino! An hour or so later, cart full, we head towards the check out, unsure we had actual meals planned out well, but rather certain we had plenty to eat and drink for 3 days! That evening we put away all the groceries we had just bought, then set out on foot towards the town center to find some oysters for dinner! Who knew oysters were a thing in the french alps!? In any case, we weren't quite hungry since we had a late lunch, so we went to find an oyster bar for dinner and some accompanying champagne. We did the typical european thing, bundled up and sat outside freezing our butts off, but man was it fun! After oysters, we made our way to another outdoor bar and sipped on some mulled wine to warm us up, then we called it a night!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzviRMAlIj-kJrIdF08Iv9loFx8KbukLUzDHRKc8TAyOONxT0VP5LbsVs-8aH40DEB74qjI5F73n7WbzZ5O0ZkStP_NcIuAOcTaBAFwV4ucsT7-aep9rPu0_Unr8ZKHbuP99stS87kJz2/s1600/IMG_8358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSzviRMAlIj-kJrIdF08Iv9loFx8KbukLUzDHRKc8TAyOONxT0VP5LbsVs-8aH40DEB74qjI5F73n7WbzZ5O0ZkStP_NcIuAOcTaBAFwV4ucsT7-aep9rPu0_Unr8ZKHbuP99stS87kJz2/s200/IMG_8358.jpg" width="200" /></a>Our first full day in Chamonix, we packed our sandwiches, grabbed our skis and went in search of some fresh powder! However, the powder was not found, nor was it there. But we still had a lovely sunny day skiing in the French alps! Even just the gondola ride from the parking lot up to the lodge was worth the ski pass. We were spoiled with stunning views of Mont Blanc and the surrounding mountains being hit with a heavenly sunshine. Although there was not much snow to take advantage of, the weather was perfect, the sun was bright, and the sky was blue blue blue. We did a couple of runs, enjoyed the view, navigated the terrain then decided to find a sunny bench to enjoy lunch. We stripped some layers basking in the warm sun during lunch. We just soaked up the views and each other's company and leisurely got back out on the slopes until the last gondola ride down.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii2LI1aOcuVoiAA3F-kbMIeWzg7ix-EVwjEMSoaRFCDrV3FuK3YXQv6M-biOECFasGFEIzhC_pcxa_3bewNfisQyKoQDD42msEAR8Jm3Wm8Pdd-9_GCfgksHfoYmSpqSe5pzI-qDxe8qCw/s1600/IMG_8420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii2LI1aOcuVoiAA3F-kbMIeWzg7ix-EVwjEMSoaRFCDrV3FuK3YXQv6M-biOECFasGFEIzhC_pcxa_3bewNfisQyKoQDD42msEAR8Jm3Wm8Pdd-9_GCfgksHfoYmSpqSe5pzI-qDxe8qCw/s200/IMG_8420.jpg" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCjnjVSRqnY5ZEt-5qLwVskVu17I68RGOYZF1wRsSrXNrTf_JMvo6duVNGZGFFlm8SGJHa58vMcit4C9SCOjhS_vtsOTF_8ovSX5d68dsnF-PJlLFNPhb1EtukZtSgRKH9ahiXV2EqF6Bz/s1600/IMG_3156.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCjnjVSRqnY5ZEt-5qLwVskVu17I68RGOYZF1wRsSrXNrTf_JMvo6duVNGZGFFlm8SGJHa58vMcit4C9SCOjhS_vtsOTF_8ovSX5d68dsnF-PJlLFNPhb1EtukZtSgRKH9ahiXV2EqF6Bz/s200/IMG_3156.JPG" width="200" /></a>That evening we went out to have our typical French Alps meal at <a href="http://www.lemonchu-chamonix.fr/en/" target="_blank">Le Monchu</a>. Entering Le Monchu we were smacked in the face with a wall of hot, smokey, cheese smelling air. The name of that game: FONDUE & RACLETTE! Besides getting nearly smoked and sweat out of my corner seat of the table due to close proximity to the Raclette flames, I had a lovely time enjoying a fancy extra cheesy dinner and chatting in Italian with my new friends! Tired from a long day of skiing and aware the next evening would be a late one, we called it a night after dinner and went to go veg out in the funky Chamonix house!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMV7YqLFUA3Ed8eniSL0n1Y90HXbfpcjVvejwh8NIC8igdjFDuznfwBAJ0D84YX6piQ6kKRr8J_hbvisDuBVCXOFPdykZkoA_9TAGJOJSS52PjdIWhDgHsgFcyzOx0-JZpWW3jDRQ6HkI/s1600/IMG_3194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMV7YqLFUA3Ed8eniSL0n1Y90HXbfpcjVvejwh8NIC8igdjFDuznfwBAJ0D84YX6piQ6kKRr8J_hbvisDuBVCXOFPdykZkoA_9TAGJOJSS52PjdIWhDgHsgFcyzOx0-JZpWW3jDRQ6HkI/s320/IMG_3194.JPG" width="320" /></a>Full Day 2 - As Serena and Andrea wer<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">e brave enough to try skiing again on the peak at the base of our house, the rest of the crew ventured out to L'<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87);">Aiguille du Midi, the tallest peak of Mont Blanc. We took the funicular up from the town of Chamonix and it was just spectacular. Again, another beautiful sunny and blue skies kind of day. The mountains seemed to go on forever, and looking at the various peaks and views into France and into Italy were just amazing. What was even more amazing was that a couple on the gondola had their ski gear packed, so I inquired what their intent was once they got to the top. "Ya know, we just plan to ski down into Italy somewhere and hopefully grab a pizza!" Once we were at the top, we saw them take their gear, and start hiking out a steep looking ridge... pazzi! But it actually looked like they wouldn't be the first ones to make tracks down the mountain that day! So many pazzi! We spent time exploring the structure at the top, following the different paths to different views, checking out the museum and staring in awe at rock climbers climbing up the rock face of Mont Blanc. Truly incredible. We had lunch in the cafeteria with a perfect view, enjoyed a Mont Blanc brew, then descended back to Chamonix in time to prepare for the grande cena di capodanno. What a day!</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwfxbXq6hGtxdqVoODmZrjy04zTyhccfKwpqV52tkMOHQDTfY_qJYX7SiyqOxlepGb-wU269_NyojyIpFbNvic2b6kXz5ORnKktatoIvaELHWHyD8PMrzD1vkNGBf58dqol4aeEbD3SnC/s1600/IMG_8454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghwfxbXq6hGtxdqVoODmZrjy04zTyhccfKwpqV52tkMOHQDTfY_qJYX7SiyqOxlepGb-wU269_NyojyIpFbNvic2b6kXz5ORnKktatoIvaELHWHyD8PMrzD1vkNGBf58dqol4aeEbD3SnC/s200/IMG_8454.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87);">The real fun came at dinner time. Orchestrated by Marco in the kitchen, help from some tiny cute beers and the whole crew, saved by Andrea Senor bringing the Cotechino and eaten by us all, we endured in a couple hours of fun and entertaining prep work to make the perfect New Years Eve dinner. Marco organized everything from start to finish, ordering us around the 3 foot tiny kitchen, by 9pm we had a large meal ready to go from antipasti, primi, secondi, contorni and dolci, it was BIG. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87);">Antipasto - Salumi/Formaggi/Stuzzichini/Guacamole con Chips</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87);">Primo - Zuppa di lenticchie</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87);">Secondo - Cotechino</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87);">Dolce - Spumante (Grazie Diego!) & Panettone</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87);">Much to the group's dismay, I forced us to watch the RAI New Year's Eve spectacular since I had never witnessed it before. After the new year was rung it, it was clear why the group had preferred to watch Aladdin that was on another channel instead of the RAI NYE broadcast - it was quite a terrible performance in Matera, but beyond typical Italian so I honestly thoroughly enjoyed watching it. We had Italian jokes and fun while we filled our stomachs to the brim and rung in the new year with friendly kisses around! Stomachs full, we rallied with some espresso, bundled up then headed out to dance the new year in in Chamonix.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.87);">Bellissima!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"></span>Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-4447997122612747372017-09-15T11:16:00.001-07:002017-09-15T11:16:16.474-07:00Christmas Italian Style<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The incredible delay in my blog posting is just becoming unacceptable. But it has certainly put into perspective how blogging can be a serious full time job or hobby if you're dedicated to it. So, let's back track about nine months to my solo trip to Italy over the Christmas holiday and then maybe I can start to commit to timely posts!? Chissa!?<br />
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After a couple of days spent in Bologna, I was off to spend Christmas with the family next best to my own. Although I was incredibly bummed about missing my favorite Christmas holiday up in Schenectady, NY with my lovely whacky relatives, being away from that annual routine was providing me with an opportunity to experience Christmas in a different way, with a different family who also loved me.<br />
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It had been six years since I was a guest in Claudia's home during my home stay with Union's term abroad in Florence. But in those six years, Claudia and Gabri had been to Boston to visit with us, I had returned to Florence numerous times to visit and we kept in frequent contact by way of whatsapp and Facebook. It only seemed normal to spend Christmas with this family in my home away from home.<br />
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For fun let's look at my <i>Natale italiano</i> by the numbers!<br />
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<ul>
<li>52 Carciofi bought at the market (artichokes)</li>
<li>52 Carciofi consumed 3 different ways over 2 days between 7 adults and 3 kids</li>
<li>246 Tortelli fatti a mano filled with mascarpone, Parmesan and speck (hand made)</li>
<li>1 pound of handmand tagliatelle</li>
<li>1 Whole chicken garnished with orange</li>
<li>4 Fish</li>
<li>2 Tiramisu consumed</li>
<li>1 Torta di mela</li>
<li>1 Roasted pineapple</li>
<li>1 Presepe di Natale (Nativity Scene), assembled with 20+ pieces hand made by Chiara and her father</li>
<li>1 Dish of Puntarelle</li>
<li>2 Jars of jam to pack for home</li>
<li>2 Bags of beans to pack for home</li>
<li>1 Jar of homemade dadi (bouillion cubes) to pack for home</li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmwi8LUopc3LbirI-wfP7LzQY3gd-kKr-Npgb3SvR1Q73q9gZU6KUQ8W4mEJtv8PBGq7psf84KvvyO_oZQOalVfeobI35fjZpvVhOdzuMpebwCYZlNZGaWPHPPAGtY2Q_wvvYZU-IvEGc/s1600/Famiglia+fiorentina.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmwi8LUopc3LbirI-wfP7LzQY3gd-kKr-Npgb3SvR1Q73q9gZU6KUQ8W4mEJtv8PBGq7psf84KvvyO_oZQOalVfeobI35fjZpvVhOdzuMpebwCYZlNZGaWPHPPAGtY2Q_wvvYZU-IvEGc/s320/Famiglia+fiorentina.jpg" width="320" /></a>My favorite part of my time spent in Florence was accompanying Claudia to the open air vegetable market down the road to do the grocery shopping. She went up to her usual vegetable guy and asked him what was good today. She obviously shopped there quite frequently as he was delighted to see La Claudia and help her get some good quality vegetables. This is where the carciofi come in. Knowing I'm obsessed with Carciofi and being in the midst of prime carciofo season, first thing on Claudia's list, CARCIOFI! Anzi, tantissimi carciofi. She started off asking for 10 for about 6 or 7 euros, then the vendor suggested she get some more, giving her a deal of about 20 for a mere 10 euro, then he realized he had so many good little carciofi that he said, to heck with it, for 20 euro, I'll give you another 20, and then he just topped off the bag for good measure, so we got about 50 carciofi for 20 euro total. Residents of the US know that an artichoke can cost $3.50 for one, so this was a real deal. It was so entertaining watching that transaction go down, that is a precise example of the simple things that draw me to Italian culture. Rounding out her shopping, Claudia added some tangerines and some greens to the shopping list, and with 23 euro spent, we were ready to prep some food!<br />
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That weekend:<br />
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<ul>
<li>I learned how to clean and cut artichokes, also learning that it's a lot of work and it turns your hands black. </li>
<li>I helped Gabri and his girlfriend set up a beautiful nativity scene that had been crafted by his father, truly beautiful.</li>
<li>I learned what a Bimby is (magical cooking robot that Chiara sells).</li>
<li>Attended midnight mass at Santa Maria del Fiore</li>
<li>Watched Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children in Italian without subtitles and had no problem understanding.</li>
<li>Walked up to Piazzale Michelangelo and back in record time with Claudia</li>
<li>Spent quality time with really truly wonderful people :)</li>
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So thankful to have spent 3 days of cooking and sharing Italian stories with Claudia and all in Florence over Christmas :)</div>
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Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-37854343031127910352017-08-08T05:47:00.000-07:002017-08-08T05:47:22.648-07:00VOGLIA DELLE FERIEFriday, I will be in ITALY!<br />
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By now, you all know my obsession with Italy and that if I don't have a ticket booked and days to countdown to being there then I may be a little grumpy. That being said, I've finally gotten to the single digit countdown for this years vacanza italiana. I used to say that I tried to go every year, but it seems like I have been fortunate enough since I moved home from Bologna to have made the trip biannually - taking advantage of my companies holiday shut down and long weekends. So the minute I return home on August 27th, expect me to be on Kayak looking to book my next trip!</div>
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In any event, I wanted to take a minute to reflect on WHY I am so beyond excited to leave for Italy on Thursday. I have 3 reasons:<br />
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1. I've made a pact with myself to push my Italian beyond my comfort zone this trip. I want to be speaking Italian whenever engaging with someone who can reciprocate. This is going to be challenging, not only because of the obvious part: speaking Italian. But because I want to meet interesting people and have more conversations with them. That is the <i>real</i> challenge. I'm inherently shy and not usually one to strike up conversations with strangers, or to take the conversation with the cashier to beyond just a Hi, please, thank you, let alone do that in Italian, so this pact is in an effort to both speak Italian and to do it outside of my comfort zone.<br />
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I will be channeling my Aunt Toni when I'm out and about because her ease at striking up conversations wherever we go never ceases to amaze me. She is one to constantly ask and be curious about others, especially in Italy and in Italian and the best part is she never gets shy or embarrassed even though she knows her Italian is far from perfect. As a result, she always ends up making friends and acquaintances wherever she goes. She is truly craves socializing like my Nonno :)<br />
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2. I am also looking forward to this trip because I am going to be surrounded by friends and family in my favorite place! I am traveling to Italy quite literally with my parents who have become my esteemed travel buddies :) My brother and his wife, Amie, are traveling to Italy as well, so we'll be spending five or so days together at Muto. My Zizi Linda and Uncle John are also arriving with Alex and Amie, so even more family fun to come. My Nonna and Aunt Toni are currently at Muto and have been since July 5th, so I am excited to see them and spend time with them as well as see all of my Nonna's regular visitors, Maria, Bernard, Gino, Angelela, the D'Ammassas... the list goes on.<br />
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For friends, I'll be traveling about a week with my coworker which I can't wait for. She has been in Italy since Saturday making me extremely jealous! I'll get to visit with my good UniBo friend, Lina. See my Florentine host family, Claudia et al. And spend some festa nights with Ilario.<br />
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3. My last reason is more materialistic than the first two, but I SERIOUSLY CANNOT WAIT FOR IT!! As many of you know, I am FIAT 500 (epoca) #OBSESSED. So, I finally am going to realize my dream of driving a FIAT 500 Epoca outside of Florence in the Tuscan hills on a tour with the 500 Touring Club. I literally cannot even express how excited I am to do this! I'll leave it at that and will update you all on the specifics of the tour after I finish it!<br />
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Non vedo l'ora!</div>
Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-29881958596016414312017-08-05T14:47:00.000-07:002018-10-29T07:01:30.364-07:00Always TogetherLast Friday afternoon I went to go visit my 97 year old Aunt Marion for the last time. It was a bittersweet afternoon, but also one that filled me with nostalgia and pride. Aunt Marion's son, Johnny, as well as my Dad were visiting with her at the same. We were exchanging stories of the past and of our current lives among us and with Aunt Marion, and Aunt Marion had a couple of caregivers from the nursing home visit while we were also there.<br />
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I did not go visit the nursing home on a regular basis like my Dad and Johnny, so my relationship to Aunt Marion was unclear and unknown to her caregivers and nurses who had stopped by. Naturally, one of the nurses inquired about who I was and how I was related to Aunt Marion. Johnny responded, telling her that I was Aunt Marion's niece of sorts, and that led to the next question being, so then "What is Lia to you [Johnny]?"<br />
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Johnny and I kind of looked at each other as if we hadn't really thought about the answer to that. Technically we were second cousins (and we knew that), as my Dad and he are first cousins via their mother's being sisters, but labeling us as second cousins didn't seem quite right. So Johnny starts describing the D'Ambrosio-Zanco relationship to the nurse because second cousins didn't quite have any meaning for the nurse who spoke English as a second language. <br />
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His story started off by reminiscing back to Edenfield Ave, describing how both he and my father grew up in the same house giving the two cousins the opportunity to grow up like brothers and in a sense also share parents. This closeness that my Nonni and Aunt Marion provided both of their families growing up is the reason for which it was sometimes almost hard to define my relationship with the Zancos. Out of habit I called Johnny, "Zanc", and if I had to think about who he really was to me, I'd really call him my Uncle because that's what I felt he was to me. Zanc explaining the relationship to the nurse reminded me of how unique my D'Ambrosio side of the family was and reminded me of the good times we shared which were very different than the good times spent with my Serafini side.<br />
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From my Dad's stories I knew that sharing a home with the Zancos was quite the experience. Nonni and Aunt Marion mothered differently but under the same roof and Zanc and my Dad acted like brothers. They grew up being so close to each other (literally) and although they might have been living under the same roof for financial reasons, the bond between the Cafarella sisters (Nonni and Aunt Marion) fused the two families together and only grew stronger as they aged in life. They didn't live together for ever, but always remained close. My dad and Zanc can elaborate more on their life as kids under Nonni and Aunt Marion's reign, but I can only recall their relationship from 1990 and on and when I think about it, it's truly amazing.<br />
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Over time the D'Ambrosio and Zanco families moved out from under the same roof. I am not sure of the exact details, but at some point before I was born they found homes within eyesight of each other in Watertown, MA. They no longer lived under the same roof, but many things were still enjoyed together. Growing up, I was fortunate enough to spend a lot of time at my Nonni's house on Highland Ave. My relationship with my Nonni and Grampy was far different than that of my Nonna and Nonnos. While Nonna and Nonno love me dearly, their main means of showing their love was through feeding me and having me help around the house. Conversation and cuddles just weren't high on the list - this may have been due to the language barrier, or due to the way my grandparents grew up (in Italy during WWII). I knew very well that family is the most important thing to them as well and that we all love each other immensely, it was just always expressed differently. Time spent at Nonni's was very different. They did enjoy feeding me as well, but differently. With Nonni and Grampy, we'd go out to the Old Country Buffet to have all you can eat soft serve on top of a brownie cake. These excursions were always with Aunt Marion and Uncle Tommy as well.<br />
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The bottom line is: Everything we did together included Aunt Marion and Uncle Tommy (IN A GREAT WAY!). From Nonni's kitchen window you could lift the blinds while she was in her favorite seat, peak out the back and check to see if Aunt Marion's bright teal car was in the driveway. Nonni would ask me to check if they were home, if the car was in the driveway then we'd make the phone call and tell Aunt Marion we were coming to visit. I'd walk Nonni down the hill, then we'd go spend time with her sister. How lovely. We'd all sit at the table to play a big game of cards, whether Nonni and I walked down to Aunt Marion's or Aunt Marion walked up. A pot of coffee would be made, some waffle crisp may have been eaten (no matter the time of day), and I can't remember who drank the diet coke (I think it was Grampy), but Nonni would always have be go get the diet coke from the fridge and open it for him. There was little to zero yelling/arguing when we gathered together. Only a couple of sly words and nuggies exchanged if someone had a clever play in the game of cards or at Rummikub. Those two families truly enjoyed being together and I loved being a part of the fun as well.<br />
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Something else noticeable different than my Nonno and Nonna's ways was that Aunt Marion and Nonni would ALWAYS express their love, verbally, written on cards or physically by means of slathering us with kisses, holding our hands and convincing us to constantly sit on their laps. I remember being 3 or 4 inches taller and Nonni still begging me to come sit on her lap at her round table. It was clear that they loved to love us and each other!<br />
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I think I feel so inclined to write this post because over the last couple of years I've spent a lot of time in Italy and spending time with my mom's side of the family, but Zanc's comments and being with Aunt Marion for the last time really drove me to remember all of the truly fabulous things about my Dad's side of the family. And it's truly amazing to see how time was spent differently with both families and different things were learned and experienced with both families -- both equally rewarding. But I love thinking about the hours spent playing cards with Nonni, how Aunt Marion was dedicated to teaching me how to knit and pearl, how my Nonni would make the best chicken cutlet or pastena, feed me Little Debbie cakes, have waffle crisp and soda ready if I wanted it (and yes, I did want it!), going back and forth between Aunt Marion's house, how Aunt Marion would drive us to the market or to the Old Country buffet because my Nonni would NEVER get behind the wheel of a car. Another thing I loved about Aunt Marion and Nonni and that I know all my relatives can attest to and will never forget was that they'd remind us that we better call when we got home so they wouldn't worry - this went for anyone leaving them and going home. They were truly sweet sweet sweet ladies who loved to share their love, and they were truly blessed to have had each other support their entire lives.<br />
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What's the most impactful about the D'Ambrosio and Zanco story is what they shared in life. The countless memories of living under the same roof and within a stone's throw from each other are priceless. It's not often that two sisters, their husbands and their kids are willing and looking forward to spending and sharing that much of their time and lives together. They were blessed to be near each other for support whenever it was needed.<br />
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Monday, July 31st, Aunt Marion passed away at the age of 97. She lived a long, wonderful and loving life. She lived without my Grampy 20 years, her husband 10 years and my Nonni nearly 2 years. It's incredibly sad to think about, and as I write this out for the first time the tears are starting to roll down my face, but now all four of them are back together living under the same roof, sadly no longer in our world with us. But where they eternally lay in St. Patrick's cemetery is a testament to their love for each other. It's rare that you see a headstone at the cemetery dedicated to two pairs of husbands and wives (D'Ambrosio & Zanco), and it comforts me to see them rest together under the inscription "Always Together". You'll never be forgotten and I'll cherish all of our time spent together. <i>All my love.</i>Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-72497408915134795062017-05-19T18:45:00.000-07:002017-05-29T13:20:53.903-07:00Nonno Michele: Part I<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguFz9XGEtUGRijtXNLEVpnr_taEWsQecNe9F1YhBGvLZmJ65-J4Fmcr0pru1VftvaxnPHHSRH9hjkdgCvei1S8jBXJWWGPUw5D8AZnIEUhiOAhnG2LLz8UH0QD5ToZ0f9gUsJa_WFnBnjL/s1600/12744685_2418122852744_3460216172594037882_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguFz9XGEtUGRijtXNLEVpnr_taEWsQecNe9F1YhBGvLZmJ65-J4Fmcr0pru1VftvaxnPHHSRH9hjkdgCvei1S8jBXJWWGPUw5D8AZnIEUhiOAhnG2LLz8UH0QD5ToZ0f9gUsJa_WFnBnjL/s200/12744685_2418122852744_3460216172594037882_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>As a year past rolls around I can only think, “how have I not written about Nonno and March 2016 yet?” So, I’d like to finally devote some time and words for my aunt Toni’s sake and for the rest of my family as his one year without him rolls around and all of the feelings and memories come flooding back with force.<br />
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My Nonno Michele (Miguel) was an incredible man. His deep scratchy voice and chuckle resonates in my head whenever I think about him, and it keeps him alive. He is also kept alive by the memories of him holding court always at the head of the table, any table, no matter where we were. His particular and methodic way of peeling every apple, pear, peach and nectarine with a sharp knife, the missing half its handle and scratched up because he sharpened it himself, the fruit becoming half of what it originally was because of his skin peeling work, and him popping the fruit into his mouth or sharing it with us grandkids off the tip of the knife. His unique contraptions built from his own hands, tools and recycled scrap materials. His way of referring to my nonna as La Signora and arguing with her as often as possible. These are just a few of the things that characterize my day-to-day Nonno, but his story goes farther beyond his daily routines.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlgDjXvFeqCD5L4o9q2RmrANs3Ewqvi-kSe5MrFjO0mVIuqkT5HX1LDWaBV3EvYeq2Rpccjyao_EhXnTkIB-PdjiAPWfmi5nRkilgDsig1xsrNwXwDwEmIySJNBmR7HJ9unfr6KhkW3SI/s1600/12923112_2418121412708_7841217272509121128_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGlgDjXvFeqCD5L4o9q2RmrANs3Ewqvi-kSe5MrFjO0mVIuqkT5HX1LDWaBV3EvYeq2Rpccjyao_EhXnTkIB-PdjiAPWfmi5nRkilgDsig1xsrNwXwDwEmIySJNBmR7HJ9unfr6KhkW3SI/s320/12923112_2418121412708_7841217272509121128_n.jpg" width="240" /></a>My nonno was born in Fontechiari, Frosinone, Italy, in 1923. He grew up in a small hill town with little to nothing, growing up on the land and amongst his family and friends who lived nearby. My Nonno was 16 when World War II broke out, working as a Carabinieri at the Vatican he was soon enlisted in the Army under Mussolini’s rule, as with all of the eligible Italian men, there was no choice. With the allied invasion of Sicily in 1943 and the fall of Mussolini, my Nonno was told to desert his company and go home, he slipped out of the back of the truck he was being transported in, and he walked all the way home to Fontechiari from Rome. Only god knows how he was able to find his way without being captured or getting lost.<br />
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I don’t know the details, but sometime while living through the war he met and fell in love with my Nonna. They were both from the same neighborhood, within walking distance from each others homes, so finding each other was only a matter of time. They both lived in a very rural and remote part of Italy, with very few resources and survived by living off of the land and livestock they owned. The war only made things more complicated, impoverishing their town further when German's were forced to exploit their few resources to survive and living through a war zone, Montecassino just 25 miles away.<br />
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With the conclusion of the war in 1946 it seemed only natural to find a way out of their impoverished town. The idea was to emigrate to America together and start their family there. Paying attention to detailed immigration laws, my grandparents were not married in Italy in order to allow my grandmother to travel to America as a minor under her father's papers. My Nonno was not so lucky given he was already over the age of 21. He was forced to stay behind in Italy while my Nonna headed to America to start a new life. In retrospect, I am sure my Nonno was giddy about the prospect of having to stay back in Italy a few years more, but he also knew that in order to get the best for his future family, America was the answer.<br />
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In 1953, 4 years after my Nonna had moved to New York, my Nonno joined her. With their young daughter Anna, my Nonno and Nonna began to make their Italian American success story in the vibrant city of Schenectady, NY. The Italian community was everything to Italian immigrants in Schenectady at that time. GE was one of the main employers of immigrants, and the immigrant families worked together to support each other and thrive in their new foreign home. My Nonno was among the hard working blue collar folk who had learned useful skills back home in Italy and was able to apply those skills to start a business. He and his brothers started a construction company building anyone and everyone's house in Schenectady. I used to love driving through the neighborhoods of Schenectady having him point out all the different houses he built, then I would begin to guess which ones he might have built based off style. The house that they lived in for the majority of their life was also built by him and I love to point out where the tiles are mismatched on the floor or how the door frame seems to be a little crooked. Let's not even get me started on the blue plumbing in the bathroom, but I can only imagine all of his homes were fit with a retro blue toilet, tub and sink basin... oh the good ole days!<br />
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My mom, aunts and uncle hold most of the details that describe this period of my Nonno's life. Thankfully over the years I've gained some insight into that life so I can characterize it rather accurately, but without great detail. Growing up in a house headed by him, he was your typical Italian father figure. He worked all of the time and so did my grandmother, but when he got home from work he sat at the head of the table, did not really help take care of the children, and waited to be fed. This was the way things were in the 50s and 60s, he loved his family, provided for them and made them laugh, but was definitely a different fatherly figure when comparing him to the father figure I had growing up.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBDJ96pgHcmwo-2k3I3tgzF20xQciX5DPQ3VDize8LQ3vEyjcT9xrsL1293LdOTMUd2Hk4lJGjOHgYoJ5yPdZMQywQOe5xYX1hV-kKRnGYpeCiOJ77WsoFtzp-ZNCfhVDvFONKM0ecJQtD/s1600/12072791_2418121652714_711051017105685832_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBDJ96pgHcmwo-2k3I3tgzF20xQciX5DPQ3VDize8LQ3vEyjcT9xrsL1293LdOTMUd2Hk4lJGjOHgYoJ5yPdZMQywQOe5xYX1hV-kKRnGYpeCiOJ77WsoFtzp-ZNCfhVDvFONKM0ecJQtD/s200/12072791_2418121652714_711051017105685832_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>My ideas about my Nonno are naturally very different than my mom's, my aunt's and my uncle's. To me he was the red faced man sitting at the head of the table who loved to laugh, joke and chat up anyone who was willing to listen. He'd do this while he enjoyed a glass of red wine or two from his homemade stockpile or while tearing apart chicken thigh my Nonna had just prepared for him. Red meat was his favorite, and he was always part of the clean plate club, naturally also invoking the clean plate club rule on anyone who sat at the dinner table with him. It was my Nonno who taught me the beauty of la scarpetta, that amazing Italian creation of taking a delicious piece of bread and using it to mop up whatever kind of sauce might have been left behind on your plate; red sauce, meat sauce, garlic and oil, egg yolk etc.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3-N8l8V5obKbgJXFwUn9Q6Juyz2Vz27h7Aazdxq-RZeVp8CIDr6eqxt_pQ6WBneREiUrBPvXNuaztaTm11BhInAHJSDes9VY2KTVSN5gMzevh5HR_ooX-9TTLzKnLFfPsmstMqvTgCWC/s1600/72370_2418122212728_4267827976354364081_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM3-N8l8V5obKbgJXFwUn9Q6Juyz2Vz27h7Aazdxq-RZeVp8CIDr6eqxt_pQ6WBneREiUrBPvXNuaztaTm11BhInAHJSDes9VY2KTVSN5gMzevh5HR_ooX-9TTLzKnLFfPsmstMqvTgCWC/s200/72370_2418122212728_4267827976354364081_n.jpg" width="200" /></a>He always wore khakis, a button down shirt (his white Hanes undershirt peaking through) and suspenders. His daily routine included reading the newspaper at the head of the table. He read and read and read and highlighted important pieces of information meticulously... who knows what he did with all that information! When you saw him and he wasn't at the head of the table he must've been outside tinkering with his tractor or down the farm caring for his sheep, still in his khakis, but maybe he switched to his weed whacking boots and removed the button down to be in his cannotiera, Hanes tank.<br />
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He criticized his kids for not teaching his grandkids how to be a proper Italian and speak the Italian language. He was stubborn as heck, extremely intelligent, loved working with his hands and being creative, spent every minute he could outside and busy and was extremely frugal and resourceful. I can't forget to mention that he was maddening and frustrating to my mom, aunts and uncle, but loved us like no one else.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibh8kLG_xJjQX33RWzzLHyb0WK2T7Oeu8haXI-PmGrYH6Pw-R3sCXXVfEpUpAaRrHDJeQHTQdf6iG97eEwca7tQezqEv2SLrUnMW01zaHG9C9MyYl3qVuM6YOZF5lHSvn8imc9eiIqGC4s/s1600/10399966_2418122532736_5323056693651001804_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibh8kLG_xJjQX33RWzzLHyb0WK2T7Oeu8haXI-PmGrYH6Pw-R3sCXXVfEpUpAaRrHDJeQHTQdf6iG97eEwca7tQezqEv2SLrUnMW01zaHG9C9MyYl3qVuM6YOZF5lHSvn8imc9eiIqGC4s/s320/10399966_2418122532736_5323056693651001804_n.jpg" width="320" /></a>As I got older and we began to travel to Italy to stay at the family home he grew up in and never abandoned, I began to understand another side of him, a side that inspired me and influenced me towards the thing I am most passionate about in life today. Going to Via Muto, Fontechiari, Provincia di Frosinone was a part of my summers since I was 6 years old, that at times I appreciated and at times I took for granted (my teenage years, ha!). My Nonno and Nonna spent the entire summer at Via Muto, it was their second home, and the home that you could tell brought them real happiness. From New York to Italy, my Nonno's habits did not change all that much, he still sat at the head of the table, wore his khakis, button down and suspenders, tinkered with tools, read <i>il giornale</i>, joked and entertained his guests, but you could tell something was different. We'd arrive at Via Muto to see Nonno out in the field doing god knows what, he'd come greet us at the car, he'd be so tanned and healthy looking from spending all his time in the sun, we'd notice a basket of figs drying in the sun and his grin stretching from ear to ear because Muto was his place and now his family was there with him. He'd start yelling something in dialect/Italian/English and embrace us then go right back to whatever he was working on before we came. Neighbors would show up to sit down on the patio outside with him and share jokes and Peroni's. This was the life he loved the most and I was blessed to have shared that love with him.<br />
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You have to understand that Nonno Michele was a tough man. He was stubborn, definitely favored the boys in the family and favored others for various reasons. I know everyone craved his attention and I was one of them. When we started to take language in Middle School, I wanted to take Italian so I could converse with my grandparents and more importantly impress my Nonno. My schools never offered Italian which made that a challenge, but I had a knack for languages and even without taking Italian could already understand when my Nonno spoke dialect to me. Throughout high school my trips to Italy had a love hate relationship, me being a moody and selfish teen and all, but in college the tables started to turn. My parents were no longer forcing me to go on vacation with them to Italy (wow, I sound like a jerk), and I began to miss the culture my Nonno had taught me to love without even realizing it. I missed it so much I knew I had to go abroad to Italy ASAP. I researched a million ways to get to travel to Italy with school for longer than a trimester, but between having a diving career and Union squashing all of my efforts for monetary reasons, I ended up applying for a trimester abroad in Florence Italy, but I didn't wait until my Junior year like everyone else, I went after it my sophomore year and I got accepted to the program! Grazie dio! The winter before we left for the term abroad I took my first Italian language class with Professoressa Keyes (she is the best!). I was a natural and for the first time I could go visit my Nonno and impress him with what I had learned! He was impressed... but not for very long! Spring came and I packed my bags for Florence, my term abroad had many ups and downs, but ultimately I fell in love with the country my Nonno had always been in love with. I understood and appreciated the frustrations of Italian life and became so passionate about the culture and love for family, art, food and simplicity that emanated from every cobblestone, every cigarette smoker and every barista I passed daily for 10 weeks. I learned that Italy is beauty, love and passion. I fell in love and couldn't stay away.<br />
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From that point on, March 2010, Italy was on my mind constantly. I improved my language so much in those 10 short weeks that when I followed my semester abroad with 2 weeks at Muto I was able to show off what I had learned to my Nonno. He was impressed and happy that I was finally understanding the passion for his birth country, but still disappointed when I didn't quite understand things he was saying. Naturally, I wanted to continue taking Italian classes, travel to Italy as often as possible, and find any which way to get back.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOcko8bga2HPnz6xc6CMnokhywbj7lTNjlYkKH-tX5xENUKQapQ7VMDvfq-brPPJGxQ6fBmuxPED1vDDnwqqJd-sX0MNuPZMS4VIYhWgCTJl9RbBH3Tf7IXHYoUuKTgTNdChksuDmx5hG/s1600/10399835_2418122012723_310853930072266372_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLOcko8bga2HPnz6xc6CMnokhywbj7lTNjlYkKH-tX5xENUKQapQ7VMDvfq-brPPJGxQ6fBmuxPED1vDDnwqqJd-sX0MNuPZMS4VIYhWgCTJl9RbBH3Tf7IXHYoUuKTgTNdChksuDmx5hG/s320/10399835_2418122012723_310853930072266372_n.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a>That Fall my friend Drew was studying in Rome and I booked a ticket to visit with him over Thanksgiving. Things fell apart and I wasn't able to go, so I rebooked in Spring 2011 with my college friend, Lexi. For months, since I had left Italy I had been researching internship opportunities and looking for a way to get back to Italy for this Summer of 2011. On my vacation with Lexi I had secured an interview at a company that a Union Alumni started in Rome. It was one of the first days we spent in Rome, my appointment was in the morning, I left Lexi to hang out while I navigated with the metro all the way to the Aircom International office a bus ride away from the Laurentina metro station...I had never ventured this far in Rome by train! My Italian was subpar, but I met with the director in the office, met the few employees who worked in the office and then was quickly talking about the steps I needed to take to move to Rome for the summer, I got the job!<br />
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My summer in Rome was fabulous and allowed me to spend a lot of time with my grandparents as I could just hop on the train and be in the hills of my Nonni's home in an hour and a half. My Nonno and I really began to bond in these days. Although I had learned to drive stick in high school, I never had all that much time to practice my Italian hill driving, especially under the direction of Nonno in the FIAT Uno-45. The weekends spent with him and my Nonna were an adventure. We'd sit outside as much as possible, I'd help him with yard work and then Toni and I would be enlisted in his to-do list of tinkering, hopping in the FIAT and driving him around wherever he fancied. We'd go to festas at night, met his friends, convince him only to eat one piece of sausage, guess the height of the prosciutto and have many laughs.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl4tfDyN1MlfwYQWWFmvFZP0bgN8sroFC8A2pzBzoxw2-EYAmBCrKkEL39mbLScVwSme1ZXt0e-D9lpoIxkGr3bzGNCODs5qYaxvcOGIMg5rGVBOyg-o4t-1czqEseEVBDifF-3pOnmg8p/s1600/1916390_2418122612738_5365773789332610296_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl4tfDyN1MlfwYQWWFmvFZP0bgN8sroFC8A2pzBzoxw2-EYAmBCrKkEL39mbLScVwSme1ZXt0e-D9lpoIxkGr3bzGNCODs5qYaxvcOGIMg5rGVBOyg-o4t-1czqEseEVBDifF-3pOnmg8p/s320/1916390_2418122612738_5365773789332610296_n.jpg" width="240" /></a>It was probably my favorite summer without a doubt. I was lucky to spend every weekend with my grandparents, but while it was a blast I also learned that my Nonno was stubborn as stubborn could be. We'd get in the car with a mission at hand, pipes or curtains, he'd have me drive around from store to store, get out of the car, go in the store and ask a million questions to the clerk that he needed answered. "Lia, go out and ask the man if he has tubes that are an inch and a half wide, and how much it would cost for 200 meters of tubing." "Lia, stop here on the left, my friend Vincenzo lives here, go ring the doorbell and ask if he knows the man who sells the car insurance and ask him how to give a car away for free and how to pass the title of the car to someone else." "Lia, I want that pizza from Posta Fibreno, but they make it in Alvito, call this man and tell him we need it by 2:00pm, just tell them your Nonno asked you to call." Keep in mind, at this point my Italian was not fabulous, I was 21 years old, and my Nonno had me running into people's houses I didn't know asking questions about house remodeling, water access from the government, car titles, selling cars, buying cars, tubing water from a cistern etc. And once we asked the question to one person, it wasn't enough, we needed answers and we needed to ask everyone he knew might have some kind of information. It was like his own way of googling answers, but it was a lot harder and more time consuming. He did the same with my Nonna and with Toni and they were always in an argument over something, so things got quite tough at times that summer, but I'd also never give it up for anything.<br />
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Although there was stress and arguments, it was exactly those times when we were out running errands, when we sat on the patio with home cooked food from Nonna and a glass of wine that made it all worth it. I can only smile and laugh when I think about the crazy errands he sent me on and what he taught me about how to get things done in Italy. Additionally, My Nonno loved telling stories, especially about his life in Italy. I'd ask him so many questions about the neighborhood and growing up there and he'd just spit out story after story. I'd sit there when Gino or Bernard came by and just listen to what they talked to each other about, again stories and memory after memory came spilling out. These were the priceless moments that I'd never give up and would have never been in the position to understand or witness if I hadn't developed the passion for Italy that stemmed from my Nonno's. It was the best summer of my life, full of demands, swears, stories, memories, Italian language, Italian sun, Italian food, and Italian culture. It also further solidified my need to return to Italy and my need to impress my Nonno with my language skills even more.<br />
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Following graduation from Union I had a crazy idea to go back to school in Italy. I was sitting in an archiving room all summer, dreaming about Italy and what I was missing. When I wasn't archiving, I was googling solutions for my Italy withdrawal. After a lot of difficulty and roadblocks, the solution became clear, L'università di Bologna, Laurea magistrale (masters degree). My Nonno was so thrilled to hear that I would be moving to Bologna to study. You could see his eyes light up just thinking about it, he would always remind me that I'd be in the city of Lucio Dalla, and that he had been to Bologna just once, passing through the train station during the war. He'd heard about Piazza Grande and imagined it's beauty and knew he wanted to return, and was sure he'd return to see it when I completed my degree course and graduated.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Yg8MJFNfGxwuJb6aOwgtUg-KCf1sezlZIAu2XebkqgteeMdx9hdKq3t_NRp3pbnX5hEpoEIiEr_LX_oA_vehyphenhyphenJhEZ7PliQN8ADXl2bhrXGlNzaWFImUNuLzc6b9GOuVp4EUmpJQmsoFr/s1600/12472839_2418121492710_3904784026973487702_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Yg8MJFNfGxwuJb6aOwgtUg-KCf1sezlZIAu2XebkqgteeMdx9hdKq3t_NRp3pbnX5hEpoEIiEr_LX_oA_vehyphenhyphenJhEZ7PliQN8ADXl2bhrXGlNzaWFImUNuLzc6b9GOuVp4EUmpJQmsoFr/s320/12472839_2418121492710_3904784026973487702_n.jpg" width="240" /></a>Over my two years in Bologna, my bond with my Nonno grew. Everyday I encountered new experiences that frustrated me and that made me love Italy and it's crazy ways even more. I learned the quirks of the system and began to understand and speak the language better than my mom, my aunts and uncle. I had an even greater connection with my Nonno than ever before, we always saw each other light up with joy when speaking about Italy, and now I was capace to help him finish his dreams of remodeling my Nonna's home on top of the hill.<br />
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As my two years at Bologna continued, my Nonno turned 90 years old. He was getting older and starting to feel it in his mobility. In July 2014, my graduation from Bologna was planned. Both my Nonni were in Italy for the summer and we made big logistical plans for how to get drive them up to Bologna comfortably. Everything was going well as planned until my Nonno took a big fall at Muto two days prior to traveling to Bologna. We weren't sure he was going to be able to make it. But stubborn and strong minded as he is, he pulled himself together, bandaged and bruised, because he was going to make it to Bologna to see Piazza Grande, Lucio's house and his granddaughter graduate with an Italian degree. My time spent with my Nonno, my family and my support circle in Bologna at my graduation was something incredible like I'd never felt before. Defending my thesis in front of the graduation board in Italian made my Nonno giddy and everyone so proud, including myself! It was the most special time of my life to date and I was fortunate enough to have had everyone make it to see, especially my courageous Nonno Michele.Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-86516843122876944722017-01-30T17:50:00.001-08:002017-09-16T08:53:06.170-07:001st day back in BO city!<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<i>Allora</i>, after 2 days of wandering the streets of Bologna,
I was very happy. The Christmas lights, the markets, the stalls, the shops and
the people all make Bologna very special during the holiday season. <o:p></o:p><br />
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I arrived around 6:30pm at my hotel in Via della Zecca
after a long day of travel and I couldn’t have been happier. I even decided to
splurge an extra 10 euro, to upgrade my room! My hotel was so central, so I
showered quickly and then hustled down the stairs with my camera in hand ready
to see Piazza Grande and find my first meal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The tree in Piazza del Nettuno was not disappointing this year, full and
tall it stood watching over the piazza, down via Rizzoli and down Via
Indipendenza. My only complaint was that poor Neptune remained hidden under the
scaffolding of restoration, I miss him!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I hope his restoration doesn’t take nearly as long as that of San Petronio!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n79OcObSzYsvZJ6aJ2xNdhqNduTFzXqcqr1rFlkEO1U7ohS5WscS9zMUUmn5hQVoqoi6llD18qd-dLq1tjFwyv0Zwwd91H1ElFk23et_ki7vkUMzhjMOhEz4v4jvx6ZJ8mINsS1kPi1o/s1600/IMG_2846.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n79OcObSzYsvZJ6aJ2xNdhqNduTFzXqcqr1rFlkEO1U7ohS5WscS9zMUUmn5hQVoqoi6llD18qd-dLq1tjFwyv0Zwwd91H1ElFk23et_ki7vkUMzhjMOhEz4v4jvx6ZJ8mINsS1kPi1o/s200/IMG_2846.JPG" width="200" /></a>I walked through the markets of Via Pescherie Vecchie,
scoped out the various wine bars and which ones might have been new. I strolled
the streets just envious of the people walking by who likely call Bologna home.</div>
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Already, I could feel Italian life soaking back into my
veins. Where was I to have my first pignoletto? How many streets could I walk
before I got hungry?<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguKeLm608IsOo8A3jK6rFTiJgcNtwtjbhekAr3d9yxoCsIcgKPDEuzaf4diQ1DwJ6vDSTobeWnxpSHdKRAbUnn7wAg_i0-dTsjpLLj8RpQmDI5uJLzqlOlINXWKluHTDiNGMrdbDX0f-c/s1600/IMG_8089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhguKeLm608IsOo8A3jK6rFTiJgcNtwtjbhekAr3d9yxoCsIcgKPDEuzaf4diQ1DwJ6vDSTobeWnxpSHdKRAbUnn7wAg_i0-dTsjpLLj8RpQmDI5uJLzqlOlINXWKluHTDiNGMrdbDX0f-c/s200/IMG_8089.jpg" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">pignoletto #1</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvhy9AY2TVoZmKfkEaRuIwttP6rJ-UmuXiR0X_r9iVklWDvSfMEHUUbgfmnmnvfer2Ss6u1rwYWqAil7ZVOV6BiQ4fbcrf3KdZ2KK-PxD0CplPkNRqXBcbokm1Z3eBsz5Xs3PZwD8MxuX/s1600/IMG_8273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTvhy9AY2TVoZmKfkEaRuIwttP6rJ-UmuXiR0X_r9iVklWDvSfMEHUUbgfmnmnvfer2Ss6u1rwYWqAil7ZVOV6BiQ4fbcrf3KdZ2KK-PxD0CplPkNRqXBcbokm1Z3eBsz5Xs3PZwD8MxuX/s200/IMG_8273.jpg" width="150" /></a>I decided to stay within the Quadrilatero because it is
the combination of just the perfect streets filled with meats, cheeses,
vegetables, fish, people and booze <span style="font-family: "wingdings"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span>
I headed toward the Mercato di Mezzo in search of pignoletto and 5 euro later I
was pignoletto in hand sitting outside under a heat lamp looking at the
cobblestone streets that lead toward Piazza Maggiore and listening to Italians
chat and walk by. Innamorata di nuovo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Even feeling under the weather, I managed to have a great first night.
The pignoletto helped set the tone, I spoke with my parents, ate some tiralli
then headed out to admire the Christmas lights throughout the city and find a
good first meal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I ended up at Trattoria
Tony in Via Augusto Righi. I had been here once before and enjoyed it, so I
said hey, why not again when I walked past it has hunger hit me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Un bottiglia d’acqua gassata, ¼ litro vino
rosso, una lasagna Bolognese per piacere <span style="font-family: "wingdings"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span>
And just like that my Italian Christmas adventure and weight gain had begun!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgXrO3JAziSblphd_zlg1aIdPhji_Wyl_og1lzD1mix58BoyxfzX8mGwmTWM-u9H2VS5AirgWoNPhvMDcsnIVrRt5TzAf-w-uXniBw0KAzm6dDt8h6veADt1mcJEM0El1O1mnVsA5ITJpJ/s1600/IMG_2833.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgXrO3JAziSblphd_zlg1aIdPhji_Wyl_og1lzD1mix58BoyxfzX8mGwmTWM-u9H2VS5AirgWoNPhvMDcsnIVrRt5TzAf-w-uXniBw0KAzm6dDt8h6veADt1mcJEM0El1O1mnVsA5ITJpJ/s320/IMG_2833.JPG" width="320" /></a>My goals this trip were simple:<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Speak Italian<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Walk as many streets as possible<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Drink as many cappuccinos as possible<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Soak in the Bolognese accents <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Shop<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">6.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Drink Pignoletto<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">7.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Eat tagliere misto with tigelle/crescentine<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">8.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Eat a lasagna<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">9.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Run/walk as often and as much as possible<o:p></o:p></div>
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<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">10.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]-->ENJOY
MYSELF!<br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span>
<br />
<br />
<span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">Andiamo!</span></i></span></div>
Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-60599955869530111672016-12-24T08:22:00.000-08:002017-01-30T17:57:34.548-08:00It's not all rainbows and butterflies<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I have to blame this post on the French lady I met on the
plane in Montreal. She started my negative mood, so she is to blame. But I also
think it’s fair of me to write something not so picture perfect about my
travels, because let’s be real, traveling is not always easy and is not always
perfect and fun. And if I’m getting really honest, we all know how much I rave
about Italy, its beauty, its people, its language, its culture, its food, etc.
I could go on… but thank goodness Italy has all of that to offer on its good
side because it is very easy to find yourself down, frustrated, angry and upset
at the way you end up treated and the number of obstacles that can be hurdled
into your perfect day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCd-aDWyd_jqxvpshf6DplBaskMnm5Q0uPWTXYsFneX0KH9cK2YNq_lH9DGAnHIpZ0myTgl64_reCfa4LjYMvsu5yXpxZ4YOQ4CgC6uqPHG4Fm8eTlc8ysMGW9HUqkTOoaQZF3IB85DFXx/s1600/IMG_3052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCd-aDWyd_jqxvpshf6DplBaskMnm5Q0uPWTXYsFneX0KH9cK2YNq_lH9DGAnHIpZ0myTgl64_reCfa4LjYMvsu5yXpxZ4YOQ4CgC6uqPHG4Fm8eTlc8ysMGW9HUqkTOoaQZF3IB85DFXx/s320/IMG_3052.JPG" width="320" /></a><o:p> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
So, this French lady started my flight off terribly. Her
and I were one of the first people to board the Air Canada flight, Montreal to
Brussels. Naturally, since we were the first, we had to wait for the entire
plane to board after us, a completely sold out flight, that’s a lot of people
and luggage to be put in the overhead compartments! I’m settled, so I start
playing with the television on the seat, and pick a move to start watching, I
put my headphones in, sit back and relax, watching this film as the plane
continues to board.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then all of the
sudden I hear this lady talking at me in French, and I just can’t help but
stare at her with a dumb look on my face as she continues to talk at me in
French. Finally, she pauses and asks in French, if I speak French, to which I
respond no, (although I understood everything she was saying) so she then
begins to lecture me in broken English about how it is important that I remove
my earphones while we are on the ground because it is critical to my own safety
and the safety of the passengers that I listen and not be distracted by my
headphones. I just stared at her, said thank you, and put my headphones back
in. This drove me INSANE and ruined my mood for my transatlantic flight, why
did this lady insist on micromanaging the way I was behaving on the plane, when
I was doing something that was so not even worthy of commenting on? ‘sta gente.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Waiting in the boarding area for my flight to Bologna
from Brussels was another experience. 5 minutes before our flight has started
to announce, folks start lining up at the gate ready to board. I sit there and
watch. These people were so interested in being the first on the plane that
they had queued up in anxiety even before they had started the boarding
process, you can only imagine how that turned out once they did start the
boarding process and asked for those who need assistance and other special
passengers to board first… what a nightmare! At least I can laugh at that one.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6Ppp5QykCJiuPZ25GplsYtNqg20N9xlrWciJIxqt4epxVx4FdwSI0lOWysnXo2jTSNyGi7O8t6elEwh5cXfBL7P15943veg7Z3uyD1Ghlr3TLeoq4OtS5TFsFd0wFzX5DNTtNLM5Ny1y/s1600/IMG_2924.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6Ppp5QykCJiuPZ25GplsYtNqg20N9xlrWciJIxqt4epxVx4FdwSI0lOWysnXo2jTSNyGi7O8t6elEwh5cXfBL7P15943veg7Z3uyD1Ghlr3TLeoq4OtS5TFsFd0wFzX5DNTtNLM5Ny1y/s320/IMG_2924.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Now let’s talk about space. Personal space. This is
something you don’t get when you’re in Italy. Especially public space, like
sidewalks. This straight up gives me stress. Running, walking, skipping, no one
cares. It’s you against them, and I NEVER win. It’s mind blowing, literally. I
walk by myself nearly hugging the wall most times or on the cusp of the curb,
groups come at me, single people come at me and none of them move. I always
secretly swear to myself that the next person who does it I’ll just plow right
through, but I never have the courage!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia8Bsa7AaM_QCw2ujFMEro7DTU9ROpme3vFI0KSpvrpyWZpbqz7YL70z4JvH3a5sHVMRxwJ-DyktWrlV7zHRBSC0BI6DqSSzVsYnvV8SnpZnBqE63wpviNnpbmbIy8qYQj_CpjYdmfP3oJ/s1600/IMG_3068.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia8Bsa7AaM_QCw2ujFMEro7DTU9ROpme3vFI0KSpvrpyWZpbqz7YL70z4JvH3a5sHVMRxwJ-DyktWrlV7zHRBSC0BI6DqSSzVsYnvV8SnpZnBqE63wpviNnpbmbIy8qYQj_CpjYdmfP3oJ/s320/IMG_3068.JPG" width="320" /></a>While avoiding the people seems not so bad, it becomes
more difficult when trying to avoid all the dog poop all over the city at the
same time. Don’t get me wrong – I am still obsessed with Bologna, but it will
never be the same city it was when I was actually living here. Now I notice the
obscenely terrible graffiti all over the beautiful walls of this town, and it
makes me sad. Particularly, this time around there is one individual who
vandalized wall after wall after wall with “NO RENZI, FUORI RENZI, CACCIA
RENZI, BASTA RENZI”, I thought it was entertaining the first time, then I realized it is
painted all over the city, under beautiful arch ways, religious statues,
porticos, the list goes on… that makes me sad, because this city deserves so
much more. I also notice that maybe 1 and 10 people pick up after their pets,
walking around you literally have to dodge dog poop and pee everywhere you go
and it makes traveling a little unsettling.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Ultimately, the perks of being in Italy outweigh these few unfriendly details, but I do think it’s important to keep it real, so I hope
some of you can sympathize with some of these points!<o:p></o:p></div>
Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-82023784333025463052016-12-21T03:28:00.000-08:002016-12-21T03:30:21.009-08:00A long layover in Brussels<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
This holiday season comes with many strange feelings for
me. It’s the first time that I will not be spending Christmas with my
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In October I decided that since
my office undergoes a holiday shutdown from December 23<sup>rd</sup> through
January 3<sup>rd</sup>, I might as well take advantage of it. So, I thought,
where should I go that I could get tickets affordably and also not be
completely alone? Naturally, the answer was Italy.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Hours spent looking at frequent flyer tickets I realized
no flight the day before or the day after Christmas was going to be available
with miles, or would be too expensive, leaving on the 27<sup>th</sup> or 28<sup>th</sup>
wouldn’t lend me enough time for a Europe trip because I couldn’t use vacation
days after the break is over given our crazy meeting schedule that resumes the
day work is back in session. So I opted for a 30,000 mile and $25 fee ticket
with a long trip duration, getting me to my beloved Bologna by 5:30 on Wednesday,
December 21<sup>st</sup>. YEAH!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Anticipating my trip, but also feeling sad about being a
loner wandering around Italy while I could be home eating 7 fishes with my
favorite family members, going to church, eating Nonna’s lasagna, and watching
movies with Uncle John, my departure date finally arrived! <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Thankfully my cousin Juliana came and brought me to the
airport, so I did not feel so disconnected from the family. She was so nice! It
really made a difference being left by her <span style="font-family: "wingdings"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span>
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQd7pvhwWHZBuQdnYAgZ3ZbpbI9DSlKe-oAXuG_XqnqwW487cexMf_FlpE1zW5vWmm88I3LHlxOwY1jFlvGgqGUpPM2JQt1cZgX6BNS1CsHvFADlH1jKaw3H5M4RrdzEZMfNiDLzFNrgAx/s1600/IMG_8084.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQd7pvhwWHZBuQdnYAgZ3ZbpbI9DSlKe-oAXuG_XqnqwW487cexMf_FlpE1zW5vWmm88I3LHlxOwY1jFlvGgqGUpPM2JQt1cZgX6BNS1CsHvFADlH1jKaw3H5M4RrdzEZMfNiDLzFNrgAx/s320/IMG_8084.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sunset view from Logan, Terminal B</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
Departing Boston at 5:30, connecting in Montreal and then
again in Brussels, my total travel time would be nearly 18 hours, with a 6 hour
layover in Brussels. I tried everything I could, called United, bothered people
at the ticketing desk to try and get me on the Lufthansa flight, BOS ->
MUNICH -> BLQ, or BOS -> FRANKFURT -> BLQ, that both arrive a number
of hours earlier, but it’s Christmastime, no luck. Everything was booked. So I
resigned myself, and decided not to worry about it, besides I had all these
United Club passes that I could use at the fancy lounge when I got to Brussels
and I’d have all this time as an excuse to enjoy being in airports, blog and
read my book.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I say that now as I’m drinking a shitty cappuccino that
came out of a automatic machine that I had to pay almost 4 euro for because,
yes you guessed it, the Star Alliance does not ally nicely when it comes to
utilizing beautiful perks like the “Air Loft” lounge in the Brussels Airport.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEB6twsvbaDkfh_WwLghkoR2fFhkoptt8iG9KG3OYyo5WRELLyRjSbmRzwaaowd41ZhAQnOaYKKMknYqQVYTm47ZV2eInku6HbdAlk_goEWQvNInZolEDye1kuuXUiO5B1KB8bLn2NS9DE/s1600/IMG_8085.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEB6twsvbaDkfh_WwLghkoR2fFhkoptt8iG9KG3OYyo5WRELLyRjSbmRzwaaowd41ZhAQnOaYKKMknYqQVYTm47ZV2eInku6HbdAlk_goEWQvNInZolEDye1kuuXUiO5B1KB8bLn2NS9DE/s200/IMG_8085.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Airport vitamins</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
But hey! I’ll still try to look on the bright side of
things. This long journey has allowed me to think about how bummed I am that I
am not spending Christmas with my family and friends at home, but it has also
got me very excited when I look at my crazy (non relaxing) itinerary for this
vacation. While I might not be with my American family and friends, I have a
unique opportunity to spend 12 days during the beautiful holiday season to take
in Europe and visit with friends made during my time in Bologna, our family
friends the Grillos and my beloved host family who I stayed with 6 years ago in
2010 during my term abroad in Florence. How lucky am I?<br />
<br />
My itinerary goes like this:</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Wednesday, 5:30 arrive in Bologna</b> – EXPLORE<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Thursday </b>– Bologna/Forli to visit Lina for dinner<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Friday</b> – Bologna/Modena to visit a family friend of my
mom and dad<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Saturday – Monday</b> – Firenze to spend Christmas with my
host family <span style="font-family: "wingdings"; mso-ascii-font-family: Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;"><span style="mso-char-type: symbol; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Tuesday</b> – Back to Bologna<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Wednesday</b> – Torino to visit with the Grillos<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Thursday – Sunday </b>– Chamonix with Serena and amici<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Monday – Tuesday</b> – ROMA, the back to Boston.<o:p></o:p></div>
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What I am most looking forward to is spending time with
all these people I see so rarely, and turning my Italian switch on for a full
12 days.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Set up shop, not at the lounge. <br />
Cappuccino from a machine</td></tr>
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Additionally, Italy during the holidays is such a magical
sight. I can’t wait to step off the plane in Bologna and feel that charm envelope
me and take me in. Christmas markets, aperol spritz outside under heat lamps,
lasagna alla Bolognese, streets lined with holiday lights, Christmas trees in
every main square and the smell of chestnuts being roasted on every street
corner.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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I know that Bologna will have also changed so much since
the last time I was here, so I can’t wait to see what new shops, restaurants
and bars I come across. And I know one of my first stops when I get chilly will
be my <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">cioccolata fondente calda con </i>panna
from Grom on Via D’azeglio.<o:p></o:p></div>
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If only I could’ve convinced my mom and dad to join me! <o:p></o:p></div>
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BRING IT Italy! I’m ready! [Just 3.5 more hours until I
depart from Brussels!]</div>
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(I also hope travelling alone will get me back in to Blog
mode, I want to put more of my time into my blog in the new year, and I owe
Toni a post on our trip to Italy last March, salutero’ Nonno <3)<o:p></o:p></div>
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</style>Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-37040440238273125902016-12-16T17:17:00.000-08:002016-12-16T17:17:05.029-08:00Camminando a Strada Maggiore, 45Us lovers of Italy understand the attraction of the language, the draw the smell of a fresh baked brioche has on our hearts, how the clinking of cups nearby catches our attention because we know there is un buon caffe that awaits us in the next store front or around the corner or around the corner or around the corner. These are simple things that make living in Italy a daily adventure, in fact, you might even call them a daily pleasure despite the fact we are well aware jobs are limited, the political system is corrupt and you will never get through the line at the post office as quickly as you may have imagined.<br />
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The other day I was chatting on the phone with another Italophile realizing that we both expressed and shared these same feelings towards Italy. We among all understand well the idiosyncrasies of Italian society and the bureaucratic headlock you can so easily find yourself in, nevertheless we love Italy the same, if not more. I found so much comfort in the fact that I wasn't alone in thinking these odd almost trivial pieces of life were more than just pieces of life, but adventure and lust. We discussed how we were fortunate to spend time in Italy, to want the thrill of living abroad and to enjoy living in a daily adventure.Italy is just that, an adventure.<br />
<br />
My most traveled adventure in Bologna was my walk to and from my apartment to my school, the department of political science in Strada Maggiore, 45. One might characterize this daily walk as a commute, but for me it was an experience every time I stepped out my front door on to Via Solferino and headed East towards Strada Maggiore.<br />
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But let's start even before I stepped out of my house. My general morning routine consisted of making coffee and having breakfast in my apartment kitchen. The adventure began there, every morning, at my kitchen table. Looking south out of my kitchen window, I had a perfectly framed view of the church San Michele in Bosco, sitting humbly on top of the hill. It was such a treat, and I soaked up that view as often as I could.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhFuWNzP6W0UZf0Fu-s8Vjz-gf1YLnSthucQjM7dCktzXLeCj9GwjVGMSGDMrd0VOKe_yc5hsw1hX1F3IXmPCv8AyOCNbKxKf2dTSqw3yW4tgk1CKqKknlF6hO0htbq4yldaNF4QX4k_O/s1600/SPRINGTIME.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKhFuWNzP6W0UZf0Fu-s8Vjz-gf1YLnSthucQjM7dCktzXLeCj9GwjVGMSGDMrd0VOKe_yc5hsw1hX1F3IXmPCv8AyOCNbKxKf2dTSqw3yW4tgk1CKqKknlF6hO0htbq4yldaNF4QX4k_O/s320/SPRINGTIME.png" width="320" /></a>Class for me generally started at 9am Monday through Friday and ran the entire day. It was like being back in high school with class all day long! So by the time I got my books, bags and coffee ready, I'd leave my house by 8:40 or so in order to make the quick 15 minute walk to school and have time to get settled in the classroom. This walk, although short, was my favorite daily adventure and routine. Depending on the day my walk could have multiple stops or be nonstop to Strada Maggiore. A few of the places I passed that distracted me from my non stop path to class generally were coffee related, but even particular doorways, windows or cars would stall my journey as I always walked the streets of Bologna to class treasuring the views. Here are a few stationary things that often caught my attention on my walk to school and helped shape my daily adventure in Bologna:<br />
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<b>1. San Michele in Bosco:</b> Like I previously mentioned, the sight of a the sunrise (or a sunset), a set of fluffly clouds, a clear blue sky or a foggy Bologna morning encompassing the church on top of the hill framed perfectly by my kitchen window was my favorite sight and adventure every day. The magnificent view often stole my attention, comforted me every day I lived in Via Solferino and often made me a few seconds slower out of the house.<br />
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<b>2. Sorbetteria Castiglione: </b>La Sorbetteria is well known among the Bolognese as one of the best gelaterias in town. Lucky for me I walked passed this everyday, and I often couldn't resist going in, but contrary to what you might think, my stop was always made in the morning, not for gelato but for their delicious pastries and coffee! My favorite one was a <i>girella</i> that had pear and chocolate chips in it. But, their cappuccino wasn't the best offered on my walk to work, so I only went to the sorbetteria when I was in need of that pear and chocolate <i>girella</i>! And don't get me wrong, you could find me walking here not on the way to school when I might have been craving a gelato :)<br />
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<b>3. Piadineria Vecchio Mulino: </b>As many of you know, Piadine are a staple to life in Bologna. This Piadineria sat at the corner of Via Castellata and Via Rialto, right at the point so you could never miss it, especially walking home from Strada Maggiore. There was always a crowd here at lunch, hanging in the streets, hudled over their neatly wrapped piadine or tortelloni ripieno con nutella. I enjoyed stopping here for a yummy crescente or their special nutella stuffed tortelloni.... yes, I am a <i>golosa!</i><br />
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4. Calzolaio: </b>One day I realized my boots needed some new soles and I realized, hm! Don't I walk past a cazolaio everyday on the corner of Santo Stefano? Yes! You can't miss the tools hanging in the window and the shoe molds dangling from every corner, and of course... the smell of leather! I loved peaking in this window to see what shoes the Calzolaio might be banging on, so fun!<br />
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<b>5. Cinema Rialto:</b> There is a small movie theatre located on Via Rialto, the back of which faces Via Castellata (my daily route). I always enjoyed walking down the road behind the cinema and listening to see if I could hear the movie playing within. It's something I liked to listen for, but I have to say that I never went to see a movie there, and I probably should have. </div>
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<b>6. Shoe Store:</b> It's crazy but I can't remember the exact name of the store, only the exact location, smell and beautiful shoe display remain in my memory. It was a sort of outlet of hand made leather shoes and I was never lucky enough to find the perfect pair for me, but many a pair of men's shoes I brought home for my brother and boyfriend. I loved slowing my walk to browse the windows lined with beautiful leather shoes, men's and women's, on SALE!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKapgSkcAnJfCcHtlNk7z87XSZGXHAXlw7HrBWLixXcYinwgAgge7Bo73Wv6xx0W6YnukMocq8gOr1Och1TnIQA-dongquvFFN6_5ZXya75-bHya_OpK2jHoQW_UO9OOk3RMSYXcA4XeNo/s1600/GUEST+%25281%2529.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKapgSkcAnJfCcHtlNk7z87XSZGXHAXlw7HrBWLixXcYinwgAgge7Bo73Wv6xx0W6YnukMocq8gOr1Och1TnIQA-dongquvFFN6_5ZXya75-bHya_OpK2jHoQW_UO9OOk3RMSYXcA4XeNo/s400/GUEST+%25281%2529.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>7. Bar Maurizio:</b> Unassuming by morning, but bumping at night. I'd walk past the red metal stools of Bar Maurizio daily and enjoy looking at the name in the sign made from a cursive neon blue light. On my way home from Uni is when this bar really stood out. Most days I'd have to walk in the street as the portico was blocked with students enjoying their approx spritz and a cigarette. Loved this crew. And you can't beat an aperol spritz that's 3€;</div>
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<b>8. Caffe dell'Academia:</b> My bar! From the owner who wore split apart glasses colored with the Italian flag, to the thoughts for Lucio Dalla notebook seated outside, this was my go to bar and study place on the way to and from Strada Maggiore. The water bowl for dogs outside, the poem and limerick of the day, the cappuccinos, the pastries and the lunch choice are among my favorite things Caffe dell'Accademia had to offer. I would often meet my friend Lina here before class where I'd take a cappuccino and she'd have a ginseng she claimed to be among the best in town. My only regret is that I didn't talk to the barista often enough, I should've been more outgoing!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhayfmS0SR3rmOs8jqX6LPDrV3GvhzflpkjWqp6ziwEJnpfm6gWke6WXWOjD3D25obDL8EczXBBl7oXkwWX_reeZOYFOyYa994u44c9YEWZPKaThvD3h3bxHi_bMC9gVLXmcBRek8lOmj40/s1600/Bakeries.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhayfmS0SR3rmOs8jqX6LPDrV3GvhzflpkjWqp6ziwEJnpfm6gWke6WXWOjD3D25obDL8EczXBBl7oXkwWX_reeZOYFOyYa994u44c9YEWZPKaThvD3h3bxHi_bMC9gVLXmcBRek8lOmj40/s320/Bakeries.png" width="320" /></a><b>9. Cheese * Wine * Fruit * Veggies * Pasta * Bread * Biscotti * </b><br />
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<b style="font-weight: bold;">Salumi: </b>At every corner and along every street fruit, veggie, che</div>
ese, wine, pasta, bread, biscotti and salumi vendors would catch my eye and turn my attention towards what I might stop to by and cook on my way back from class.<br />
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<b>10. Santa Maria dei Servi: </b>This is one of my favorite churches in all of Bologna, notable because I pass it to and from school, but also because the front of the the church opens into a lovely brick lined courtyard enclosed by beautiful rows of porticoed walkways. The portico spanned nearly the whole block leading up to the political sciences department and framed the beautiful facade of the church. Along the left flanking wall you could always peer into the side door of the church at the beautiful decorations and see the madonna on the wall protected by the portico. Not to mention the beautiful terracotta color that brightens the day!</div>
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<b>11. FRAM Cafe:</b> This cafe was a late find in my two years of walking to Strada Maggiore, but once found, I couldn't stay away! Fun decorations inside, as well as a fun menu boasting fresh fruit smoothie like drinks and other healthy non traditional snacks.<br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><b>12. Graffiti: </b>A small pink graffitied area on the orange wall in Via Castellata always caught my attention and made me smirk. The graffiti wasn't originally there when I first began school in 2012, but I noticed the new graffiti during my second year at Uni: "Peace, love, and drugs"</span><br />
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<b>13. Doors and Moldings: </b>This is all of Bologna, not just my walk! But these certainly made me smile along the way to school, one door in particular won't ever escape my memory, the tiny wood door against the bright orange painted wall in Via Castellata. Moldings above the continuous porticos, barred windows and details that you just don't find in every city.<br />
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<b>14. Cars:</b> My favorite blue FIAT 500 L lives in a gated area outside an office space in Via Castellata. I fell in love with it the first time I walked by and wish it was parked there everyday. FIAT EPOCA = LOVE & HAPPINESS.<br />
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<b>15. Avoid the dog poop! Evitare la cacca del cane! </b>Not my favorite surprise on the way to school. Rule of the Bolognese roads... watch where you step! More than once I've been a victim of dog owners not picking up after their dogs.</div>
<br />Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-25161015610890614072016-05-06T06:15:00.002-07:002020-12-30T13:59:19.467-08:00Top 5 Day Trips with Bologna as your home base!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQm2YJtscUVfhbVxi5-Wv1JsaZCyF439WiRGxrPWdS_fjsSQDTTs_Ocq19gyyAQWu6uKGgDbLILVhQIK2GVj6ogXLSShZ-WorNF-bGsfqXuVp4aBHbQ7PWsCmrtV0z-VPLQJ5wEtVdySU/s1600/5+DAY+TRIPS+FROM+BO.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdQm2YJtscUVfhbVxi5-Wv1JsaZCyF439WiRGxrPWdS_fjsSQDTTs_Ocq19gyyAQWu6uKGgDbLILVhQIK2GVj6ogXLSShZ-WorNF-bGsfqXuVp4aBHbQ7PWsCmrtV0z-VPLQJ5wEtVdySU/s1600/5+DAY+TRIPS+FROM+BO.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I first moved to Italy I quickly discovered that I am a person with natural wanderlust. Being in Italy only further encouraged my wanderlust, the best part being that I could even do it on a student's budget. When you're in a country where trains and buses make traveling to the remotest of areas easy, it's impossible not to explore, and even easier than you might think to navigate to remote areas far beyond busy cities with out a car. What makes it even better is that you quickly learn it's easy to find countless picturesque cities with at least one delicious restaurant, bar, cappuccino or pasticceria. With Emilia Romagna as my oyster and other neighboring regions close by and well connected by train, I made sure to take advantage of my days off of school, free half days, as well as long and short weekends.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What I discovered during my two year master program is that Bologna, more so than Rome is incredibly well connected to magnificent paesini and many UNESCO world heritage sights. In fact, Bologna couldn't be a more central and perfect location to explore the big town and small town parts of central/northern Italy. From Bologna Centrale you can easily hop on a train and be in Milan, Venice, Verona or Rome in just about two hours, add another hour of journey and you've nearly made it to Switzerland, or you're in Trieste or exploring the five towns of the Cinque Terre or Genova. Bologna's centrality and connectivity is undeniable and it also proves to be a perfect location to explore many small, beautiful and unique towns that can be found along your way to any nearby major city.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The first small town I urge you to explore is in the Province of Ravenna.<span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>How to get there: </b>40 minute train ride from Bologna Centrale to Faenza, followed by a ten minute bus or train ride Faenza to Brisighella. Trains run hourly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I have to admit that I would have never known about Brisighella if it weren't for my friend Julia who is a natural explorer and loves quaint Italian towns. And she hit the nail on the head with this extraordinary find. Brisighella is situated at the foot of the Appenines, a perfect point where the Appenines roll into Brisighella from the West and then East of the village, rolling fields continue towards the Adriatic Sea. The village is unique because of three structures, resting on three defining hills of the city that define it's history and panorama, L'Orologio, La Rocca, e La Chiesa. Resting just above the top of the city a stone stair pathway leads you up along the ridge to arrive first at the clocktower "L'orologio," from there you continue on the rocky path to pass La Rocca, a medieval fortress dating from the 1300s, and on to the third hill where La Chiesa sits, the "Santuario della Madonna di Monticino" dating from 1662. Apart from the three hills, Brisighella has much more to offer in architecture, nature, cuisine and culture. The beautiful small streets of the town are lined with bright colored homes creating a naturally beautiful sight for anyone wandering the streets. Beyond that, the town is affordable and has a number of top notch restaurants to enjoy at an affordable price.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLu2ZDejM9Pcy3nvQgQ0JRPBA7FuZWxpVLpXtmU6orhI0l_NHfC9SNjCeDwMh-_Fpz_EKJlcT9t6FK_WgTHHKGyDS-3VAwTBjVc0LE5s4V86a1wWES2f6RqMiTivhz6_xMALqA5UH_VX-r/s1600/Scenes+from+Brisighella.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLu2ZDejM9Pcy3nvQgQ0JRPBA7FuZWxpVLpXtmU6orhI0l_NHfC9SNjCeDwMh-_Fpz_EKJlcT9t6FK_WgTHHKGyDS-3VAwTBjVc0LE5s4V86a1wWES2f6RqMiTivhz6_xMALqA5UH_VX-r/s320/Scenes+from+Brisighella.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">What to see:</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">La Rocca</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Santuario della Madonna di Monticino</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">La Torre dell'Orologio</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">L'Antica via del Borgo - A beautiful street famous for it's characteristic half moon window openings and bright colors. A unique architectural beauty!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Parco Regionale della Vena del Gesso Romagnola - Check out this site if you have a longer time to spend in Brisighella and want to check out some hiking and nature at it's best! <a href="http://www.parcovenadelgesso.it/">http://www.parcovenadelgesso.it/</a></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Where to eat:</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ristorante La Gro<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">tta, <span class="street-address" property="streetAddress" style="background-color: white; direction: ltr; line-height: 16px; unicode-bidi: embed; white-space: nowrap;">Via Metelli 1</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; white-space: nowrap;">,</span><span class="country-name" property="addressCountry" style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; white-space: nowrap;"> <a href="http://www.ristorante-lagrotta.it/#_=_" target="_blank">website</a></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Trattoria La Casetta, Via Parco Ugonia 6, <a href="http://www.trattoria-lacasetta.it/casetta_ristorante.php" target="_blank">website</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">L'Infinito, Via del Trebbio 12/14, <a href="http://www.linfinito.net/#_=_" target="_blank">website</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"> If you like quaint, but also like the idea of Venice, Cesenatico is the place for you!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>How to get there:</b> Not as easy of a train ride as Brisighella, but still do-able in a day. Depending on the connection you get the train ride can be just under 2 hours or slightly over it. By car it's a simple hour and 15 minute drive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Cesenatico drew my attention because it is a port city on the Adriatic sea. Being in Bologna, I also longed to see the sea and would happily adventure out to a town that was on the coast. A mere 2 hour train ride away, you simply can't say no to a sea breeze and fresh salty air.</span><br />
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<b>When to go: </b>If you are a fish lover, i'd suggest making your trip to Cesenatico around their fish festival "Il Pesce Fa Festa". I traveled there during this festival and it was such an amazing experience. The canal is lined with fish vendors and pop up tents selling fresh fried fish, fish risotto, fish soup etc. It's not to miss! And all of the fresh catches are super affordable. Check out their event on their page <a href="http://www.cesenatico.it/scheda_articolo.asp?id=655">http://www.cesenatico.it/scheda_articolo.asp?id=655</a></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">What to see:</span></b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Xhv3V7sJuuPq1aLDHtMzRG0AdFArxP6JYfGnpwBI1dwy6Is1pNXyEQzdD4Ubn9VdCW4mXZfkMMPzQOtovh3FaYDc9yo8qHY-8iLq_Vj9iQ7VOXKkQ6yWLu5r79n58XI88YOFYKJ-_9Pm/s1600/al+canale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Xhv3V7sJuuPq1aLDHtMzRG0AdFArxP6JYfGnpwBI1dwy6Is1pNXyEQzdD4Ubn9VdCW4mXZfkMMPzQOtovh3FaYDc9yo8qHY-8iLq_Vj9iQ7VOXKkQ6yWLu5r79n58XI88YOFYKJ-_9Pm/s320/al+canale.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">Museo della Marineria - Cesenatico's own Marine Museum, learn about fisherman and sailor history and check out the boats they host, <a href="http://museomarineria.comune.cesenatico.fc.it/servizi/notizie/notizie_homepage.aspx" target="_blank">website</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Porto Canale - The main canal of the city</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Spazio Pantani - If you love cycling, check out the Spazio Pantani, an exhibit dedicated to famous cyclist Marco Pantani (a Cesena native) who won both the Giro d'Italia and the Tour de France in 1998.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Where to eat:</span></b><br />
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<i>fish, fish, fish, fish - that's what you eat!</i></span><br />
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Osteria del Gran Fritto - If you like fried fish, this is the place for you! Corso Garibaldi, 41<span style="color: #4a4a4a; font-family: "arial" , "tahoma" , "bitstream vera sans" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; white-space: nowrap;">,</span></span> <a href="http://www.osteriadelgranfrittocesenatico.com/menu/" target="_blank">website</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">12 Ristorante - Higher price range, fish specialties, central location. Via Armellini, 12, <a href="http://www.12ristorante.com/#_=_" target="_blank">website</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mare' - Great patio and outside seating, fabulous view of the sea. Molo di Levante, 74, <a href="http://www.marecesenatico.it/#_=_" target="_blank">website</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dVf_PU4retMb4b3fvsFhgTS6IYmKBKRuMBHARJnjNQi_ObNvXAfYs1EjkSoZw2Y3LisefJCZuQxtWXemVaJwXrZXyRfuNOgeyiLaw4xQFPeQGrkqFsCZeuB3hSSPJvhZo6yVk9f1UlJu/s1600/Parma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7dVf_PU4retMb4b3fvsFhgTS6IYmKBKRuMBHARJnjNQi_ObNvXAfYs1EjkSoZw2Y3LisefJCZuQxtWXemVaJwXrZXyRfuNOgeyiLaw4xQFPeQGrkqFsCZeuB3hSSPJvhZo6yVk9f1UlJu/s1600/Parma.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Parma is a colorful, right sized, biking city, known best for it's claim to fame "Prosciutto di Parma"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>How to get there: </b>Parma is EASY to get to from Bologna Centrale. A quick hour train ride directly north west of Bologna makes it easy for you to get the real low down on Prosciutto and Parmigiano Reggiano. Trains run every thirty minutes!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A classmate of mine studied in Parma during his time abroad at college and ever since it has been on my "to see" list. <i>Disclaimer: My "to see" list is actually code for "to eat".</i> He boasted of the rich culture, the ease of movement around the city by bike, and of course the amazing proximity to some of Italy's most esteemed food products, prosciutto and parmigiano! I finally visited Parma for a quick day trip when a Botero exhibit was in town, I explored the parks of Parma, the cobblestone streets, the colorful building facades and of course, treated my taste buds. Parma like Bologna, is a smaller city, but with big city attractions. It has high fashion shopping, a plethora of delicious restaurants, parks and green space, and of course amazing museums and cultural attractions. You can't go wrong with Parma!</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">What to see: </span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Cathedral of Parma</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Baptistry of Parma</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Parco Ducale</span><br />
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<i>If you have time and money:</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Food tours - there are a number of Parma based food tours that will organize your group being picked up from the main station in Parma and then brought to various locations, ie. the parmigiano reggiano factory, or to a nearby vineyard. There are many various food tour groups all with different touring options and customizations, ie. staying local within the city walls or exploring the country side of Parma.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Food Valley Gourmet Tours -<a href="http://www.foodvalleytravel.com/en/Experience/" target="_blank"> http://www.foodvalleytravel.com/en/Experience/</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Parma Golosa - <a href="http://www.parmagolosa.it/" target="_blank">http://www.parmagolosa.it/</a></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqNKcdLbyGkRxVfVQPdVm3Z7cLNRVUcIHFejrUQgSjruBHNdRGU31uIw7RkzZircdNYk1R1gR8I1vY9wc0uhK3VgzKfQA7N63lzt6YOJvg393Utfmjp6CJxuWNjZqy3yv3HyyzfltcKsKu/s1600/Piazza+Garibaldi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqNKcdLbyGkRxVfVQPdVm3Z7cLNRVUcIHFejrUQgSjruBHNdRGU31uIw7RkzZircdNYk1R1gR8I1vY9wc0uhK3VgzKfQA7N63lzt6YOJvg393Utfmjp6CJxuWNjZqy3yv3HyyzfltcKsKu/s320/Piazza+Garibaldi.jpg" width="320" /></a><i><span style="font-family: inherit;">*Check out TripAdvisor for reviews on various food tours originating in Parma*</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Note: If you contact the Parmigiano Reggiano factory in advance and have a car, you can arrange for free tours of their factory directly with them.</span><br />
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<b>Where to eat:</b></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqNKcdLbyGkRxVfVQPdVm3Z7cLNRVUcIHFejrUQgSjruBHNdRGU31uIw7RkzZircdNYk1R1gR8I1vY9wc0uhK3VgzKfQA7N63lzt6YOJvg393Utfmjp6CJxuWNjZqy3yv3HyyzfltcKsKu/s1600/Piazza+Garibaldi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">Pepe'n - For a quick and crazy sandwich experience Pepen is the GO-TO! A Parma speciality is horse, so don't be afraid if you see that on the menu, and try not to craft your own sandwiches. The busy storefront likes to keep sandwiches streamlined and delicious, and they know their off the menu options are the best of the best. Borgo S. Ambrogio, 2, <a href="http://www.cibodistrada.it/locali/pep%C3%A8n#_=_" target="_blank">website</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Osteria i Tre Porcellini - Borgo del Correggio, 60/A, <a href="http://www.itreporcellini.biz/osteria-parma/#_=_" target="_blank">website</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sa Marjoga - Borgo Garimberti, 27, <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g187804-d1784420-Reviews-Sa_Marjoga-Parma_Province_of_Parma_Emilia_Romagna.html" target="_blank">website</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Osteria dello Zingaro - Borgo del Correggio, 5/B, <a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g187804-d2364427-Reviews-Osteria_dello_Zingaro-Parma_Province_of_Parma_Emilia_Romagna.html" target="_blank">website</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Gelato </i>- Emilia Crem<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">eria (<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.870588);">Luigi Carlo Farini, 29,) </span>& Ciacco (<span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.870588);">G. Garibaldi, 11)</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj29LmsPNCeZcuNZEzNHAtWRNcyShRTZlmZU9-xhQCnL2MIaYrePhoWchxx0bCSPCSwiDJQtyp9aV9_SjxavO_1ovmYE3hYXOfLsCJQ9QSi-Y_ErnN_lo3uGrOeqcbjSX-JdtpkwEfKlZAx/s1600/Ravenna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj29LmsPNCeZcuNZEzNHAtWRNcyShRTZlmZU9-xhQCnL2MIaYrePhoWchxx0bCSPCSwiDJQtyp9aV9_SjxavO_1ovmYE3hYXOfLsCJQ9QSi-Y_ErnN_lo3uGrOeqcbjSX-JdtpkwEfKlZAx/s1600/Ravenna.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Two reasons (that quite frankly are one in the same!):</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">1. Mosaics</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">2. UNESCO World Heritage site</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>How to get there:</b> Another easy train ride from Bologna Centrale, however this time north east and toward the sea. Most trains are direct to Ravenna and run hourly. The best news is, the train ticket only costs 7 euro!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ravenna is one of those places that if you're near it, you simply cannot miss it. Mainly because it is a UNESCO World Heritage site and home to the tomb of Dante Alighieri. I have to be the first to admit that Ravenna did not meet my expectations in terms of food. The culture was fabulous, the mosaics scattering the cities beautiful churches were unbelievable, but we just so happened to drop the ball on finding that great restaurant for our day trip, it was rainy, we were cultured out and at that point where we couldn't spend anymore time looking for that perfect place to eat, so my final view of the trip was just so-so. If you haven't noticed... I like to eat WELL.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">What to see:</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">UNESCO World Heritage: Byzantine Mosaics (8 locations)</span><br />
<ol>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOdZB-1-SFqwu1TuR82ITZSQx2th8tPb9r5-TE8yg5kX1fPPGX8Bv8Tp6PGvSAi2ghOsiPMMbcACXgkiERfKQ0vEWFDKHBLUt75RjJumBgVfLndqbBAnfwAHCuKSpjDwTjyabH30negt4/s1600/mosaici+bizantinidi+Ravenna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOdZB-1-SFqwu1TuR82ITZSQx2th8tPb9r5-TE8yg5kX1fPPGX8Bv8Tp6PGvSAi2ghOsiPMMbcACXgkiERfKQ0vEWFDKHBLUt75RjJumBgVfLndqbBAnfwAHCuKSpjDwTjyabH30negt4/s320/mosaici+bizantinidi+Ravenna.jpg" width="320" /></a>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mausoleum of Galla Placidia</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Neonian Baptistery</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Basilica of Sant'Apollinare Nuovo</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Arian Baptistery</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Archiepiscopal Chapel</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Mausoleum of Theodoric</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Church of San Vitale</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Basilica of Sant'Apollinare in Classe</span></li>
</ol>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b>
*It's worth stopping into the local tourist office to buy an integrated ticket that includes all UNESCO sites in Ravenna*</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><br /></b>
<b>Where to eat:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As we've entered the Romagna part of Emilia Romagna, you should note that the best eats include Piad<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">ine.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span class="street-address" property="streetAddress" style="background-color: white; direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; line-height: 16px; unicode-bidi: embed; white-space: nowrap;">Antica Bottega di Felice - Via Ponte Marino 23-25, <a href="http://www.anticabottegadifelice.com/#_=_" target="_blank">website</a></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ca' <span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">de Ven - Via Corrado Ricci, 24, <a href="http://www.cadeven.it/#_=_" target="_blank">website</a> </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Profumo di Piadina - Via Cairoli 24</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; white-space: nowrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Cupido - Don't judge by it's looks! Via Cavour 43/A<span style="color: #4a4a4a;">, </span><a href="https://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g187806-d2307983-Reviews-Cupido-Ravenna_Province_of_Ravenna_Emilia_Romagna.html" style="color: #4a4a4a;" target="_blank">website</a></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 16px; white-space: nowrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">(I think I deserve to give Ravenna another chance!)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJ-7kD7dtIsPhrY9N2TQVwyqBSTKTy4eIkX2iJba_3fyYrA4bsxavZGJofK0AwobOYJvAUs5trO6WMbDzqlC66CqElgjSttTytpx84J9toL-q1-73Pj75TEQOrvU_PnB4UBkpVx00jVOX/s1600/Modena.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJ-7kD7dtIsPhrY9N2TQVwyqBSTKTy4eIkX2iJba_3fyYrA4bsxavZGJofK0AwobOYJvAUs5trO6WMbDzqlC66CqElgjSttTytpx84J9toL-q1-73Pj75TEQOrvU_PnB4UBkpVx00jVOX/s1600/Modena.jpg" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A couple of things make Modena a must see town:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Home to Michelin 3-star rated restaurant Osteria Francescana (Rated 2nd best restaurant in the world by <i>Restaurant</i> magazine)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Torre della Ghirlandina</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Food</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Walkable/Bikeable</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ferrari</span></li>
</ol>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>How to get there: </b>Again the train is our friend. Modena is the closest of the five cities, a quick 20-30 minute train ride. Trains run multiple times per hour. There is no excuse to miss this gem!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What attracted me to Modena is a quick train ride from Bologna and it costs less than ten euros for a round trip ticket. Among other things, Modena is famous for it's Balsamic vinegar and like other cities on this list, it's cuisine. If anything, I was planning on hopping on the train just to try a Modenese restaurant! I also must admit the draw Modena has to those car fanatics in your life, the Ferrari museum is situated just outside the city center, but don't be fooled, if you're going to visit with a Ferrari fanatic it's not likely you'll have much time to explore the churches and monuments of the city as well!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0oi5zeYPpEA8PBco9siHyQIobkd1oFcJxIkvJMNk6LIOeIsi8EhjpSkCfsnygbaos3l2dm_Et60FQLgFGnneCpF-uZjkK3I3BlRgufD5FhLImNUJo2R-s5AIBsBnyqOES4N4c6b45_vWJ/s1600/al+mercato+-Modena.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0oi5zeYPpEA8PBco9siHyQIobkd1oFcJxIkvJMNk6LIOeIsi8EhjpSkCfsnygbaos3l2dm_Et60FQLgFGnneCpF-uZjkK3I3BlRgufD5FhLImNUJo2R-s5AIBsBnyqOES4N4c6b45_vWJ/s320/al+mercato+-Modena.jpg" width="320" /></span></a><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">What to see:</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Duomo di Modena</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Torre di Ghirlandina</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Piazza Grande</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Palazzo Ducale</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mercato Albinelli</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Museo Casa Enzo Ferrari</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">Where to eat:</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Osteria Francescana, Via Stella, 22, <a href="http://www.osteriafrancescana.it/" target="_blank">http://www.osteriafrancescana.it/</a> <i> don't miss this 3 michelin star awarded restaurant of Massimo Bottura. But be aware, this is no cheap eats!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Franceschetta58, Strada Vignolese, 58 <a href="http://franceschetta58.it/menu.html" target="_blank">http://franceschetta58.it/menu.html</a> <i>if you want to try Massimo's sister restaurant, this is the place, slightly outside of the city but worth it!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ristorante da Danilo, Via Coltellini, 31, <a href="http://www.ristorantedadanilomodena.it/#_=_" target="_blank">http://www.ristorantedadanilomodena.it/#_=_</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Antica Moka, Via Emilia Est, 1496, <a href="http://www.anticamoka.it/" target="_blank">http://www.anticamoka.it/</a> (all I can say is read up about <a href="http://www.scattidigusto.it/2013/11/21/bar-e-ristoranti-dove-mangiare-il-migliore-gnocco-fritto/" target="_blank">Gnocchi fritti</a> and you might think it's worth the hike!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Trattoria il Fantino, Via Donzi, 7, <a href="http://www.trattoriailfantino.it/" target="_blank">http://www.trattoriailfantino.it/</a></span>Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-30126752502684684232016-01-19T18:08:00.001-08:002016-01-19T18:08:33.058-08:00Il Barbiere<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimV0UF9D93vsjFnJN-CUnGfn_qxYKkiG7a4EKxCoaj-5NhwJMVd3bHVRiXRHYSzOqNTAtIc5IPXAa466WS4mu9FE-qe0UhfnnwZk7oBByNC4KdKczuhhS4dn6T8MdqMpv46DfQ8rlq_ubY/s1600/il+barbiere.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimV0UF9D93vsjFnJN-CUnGfn_qxYKkiG7a4EKxCoaj-5NhwJMVd3bHVRiXRHYSzOqNTAtIc5IPXAa466WS4mu9FE-qe0UhfnnwZk7oBByNC4KdKczuhhS4dn6T8MdqMpv46DfQ8rlq_ubY/s400/il+barbiere.jpg" width="265" /></a></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<i>Il Barbiere</i> or the barber shop is a pastime that has not fallen into the shadows, <b>especially</b> in Italy.<br />
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When I started living in Italy, Barbershops quickly became
one of my favorite spots to people watch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This may have been because on my walk home every day from Piazza Grande,
I would walk the beautifully painted blue ceiling portici of Via Garibaldi in
Piazza Cavour and walk past one of the oldest and most interesting <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">barberia </i>in Bologna.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Antica Barberia Le Marchi has lived under
the beautiful portici of Piazza Cavour since the late 1800’s and has not changed one bit.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdfU_epFi4Kg8uRthx241WhdLaFkBC4rU0e1Dli_76Aweg9ZkMnX1WANmPW2KaAdS6wfNZ564yKnPm8esOzMUaTsMigr2aCnmSwzcxwKyA3gHR6F61mNSuQhVW4fIb_mYf4nTff7xZWY70/s1600/Image-1+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdfU_epFi4Kg8uRthx241WhdLaFkBC4rU0e1Dli_76Aweg9ZkMnX1WANmPW2KaAdS6wfNZ564yKnPm8esOzMUaTsMigr2aCnmSwzcxwKyA3gHR6F61mNSuQhVW4fIb_mYf4nTff7xZWY70/s200/Image-1+%25281%2529.jpg" width="150" /></a>Given the odd hours of the shop it took me a while to
realize what a wonderful treasure I walked passed nearly twice daily to run
errands and go to class. It was the head barber himself that gave away the
secret. One day walking through the portici, gazing up as I often did to look at
the bright blue intricate detail painted on the portico vaults, I decided to
actually look where I was walking and noticed a full man in a white coat, a
grey full head of hair and a fantastic silvery mustache taking a cigarette
meandering slowly between the columns of the portici. That’s when I decided to
look right and notice the barbershop to which he belonged.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How could I not have noticed this before? A
beautiful glass paned storefront, framed by a perfect old wooden door and
window frames. I must have been too occupied by the portici ceilings or
checking to see how long the line was across the way at Cremeria Funivia, to
notice how beautiful the shop front was, beautiful glass and aged wood, making
a crisp and clean appearance and quickly transporting you back to an earlier
time. The glass paned storefront allows you a full and clear view of the barber
chairs, the barber tools, the outfit the barbers wore themselves and the
clientele who were patiently getting hot shaves with a razor to their throat.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgXtPLj5ki-AJ1Z12EQ3Ewy3rEHSxc9ZysDBezwHyifVrgwjauRkcq2yrCBUHJconulQrWzFyYrRtNjXHGDdBNabjz0Hh16nYnCFcj9yMrFdLmXa-80DzZGBPWbfiSVqJL0boIgcdYnige/s1600/IMG_0348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgXtPLj5ki-AJ1Z12EQ3Ewy3rEHSxc9ZysDBezwHyifVrgwjauRkcq2yrCBUHJconulQrWzFyYrRtNjXHGDdBNabjz0Hh16nYnCFcj9yMrFdLmXa-80DzZGBPWbfiSVqJL0boIgcdYnige/s320/IMG_0348.JPG" width="240" /></a>The insides of the shop are adorned with beautiful antique
mirrors, nearly floor to ceiling, framed in a beautiful mahogany wood. Wood
pedestal-ed marble topped floating tables adorned the space below each mirror
where a set of what look like ancient shaving tools sat. Even the barber chairs
seemed original, leather and wood rounded back chairs, and much different than
the chairs I always looked when I peeked in the window at SuperCuts! Shelves on
mirrored walls are lined with aftershave and other products in fancy bottles
for freshly shaven faces and newly cut hair.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtvMeSMMwEN5eAl2XM-RbGjzFzrgI1MZEqKXR5HEI3tNMmP9ZY3B-cOD-BkVNsFDTwKhVw2voyED133c3e7wSsUgQmqgZE88m_T6Hpv83CzDSWgCKh6NPfi1IX3n1aeiTvTGUTXSzMhWT/s1600/Image-1.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjtvMeSMMwEN5eAl2XM-RbGjzFzrgI1MZEqKXR5HEI3tNMmP9ZY3B-cOD-BkVNsFDTwKhVw2voyED133c3e7wSsUgQmqgZE88m_T6Hpv83CzDSWgCKh6NPfi1IX3n1aeiTvTGUTXSzMhWT/s200/Image-1.png" width="150" /></a>I became obsessed. The two men who worked in the shop always
wore their white coats, pajama like bottoms and “croc”-like shoes. Their hair
was never left too long before a cut and their facial hair, always well
manicured. I’d walk by and peek in as they were sudzing up their antique
shaving brushes to lather their clients face with soap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They expertly and effortlessly put a straight
edge razor to their client’s throat, clipped their hair with precision, and
always left them dazed in a cloud of aftershave. Clients always walked away
looking dapper, thoroughly satisfied with their time in the chair and always
gave the two barbers many “saluti” as they left knowing they would return soon
for their routine cut and shave. I even witnessed the two barbers trimming
their own pristine mustaches every once and a while. To say the obvious, my
eyes became trained to a new routine walking through Piazza Cavour, now I had
three things to look at; the blue painted portico ceilings, the line at
Cremeria Funivia and the barber duet.</div>
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Since I fell in love with the shop, I decided to set my Dad up with a hot shave appointment when he came to visit over Thanksgiving. He had quite the experience and he even attested that they gave him the closest shave he has ever had! Complimenti!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTXre37ypAlXoRJz5LU_K69XsG3l2MLoBNQ077FThsz6KGCVVhP53L1UgEAq_HXND-sSIZTY0NOJsTKeTJudM3RmTSMVZmzDINdNrULMcDUVn8GwxJy9Uh-FZyFAc3gUbH9A-dDgtaM95j/s1600/IMG_5046.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTXre37ypAlXoRJz5LU_K69XsG3l2MLoBNQ077FThsz6KGCVVhP53L1UgEAq_HXND-sSIZTY0NOJsTKeTJudM3RmTSMVZmzDINdNrULMcDUVn8GwxJy9Uh-FZyFAc3gUbH9A-dDgtaM95j/s400/IMG_5046.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sala da Barba | Piazza Santo Stefano, Bologna</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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Here is some vocabulary that you might find useful when visiting a salon or barbershop in Italy:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Barbiere = Barber Shop</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Barba = Beard</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Baffo = Mustache<br />
Lozione Dopobarba = after shave lotion</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
La Riga = Part</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Un Taglio = A Hair Cut<br />
Una Spuntatura = A Trim</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Salone di Parucchiera = Hair Salon</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Pettinatura = Hairstyle</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
La Forfora = Dandruff</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Tintura = Hair dye</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Spazzola = Hair brush</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
La Frangia = Bangs</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
La Piega = styled blowout/dry<br />
Il Ciuffo = Side bangs<br />
Il Phon = Hair dryer<br />
Capelli Scalati = Layered</div>
</div>
Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-69460371406265552302015-11-05T08:48:00.004-08:002020-12-30T13:41:46.097-08:00Top 5 Overlooked Treasures in Bologna<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQmxZdcjQbfksIXQ2xIWGXtMzVObIxRpzesiio4Am1mPOOD5xW2fw29ksgn5GoM9pOTJSK8IhNCv_o6alLBVCHlA0zPeU2SJHCY1PLV2VzENN7FX30ZsrXSEYXE5cMSRhyTxw8GiYAqNM/s1600/Top+5+Overlooked+Sights.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLQmxZdcjQbfksIXQ2xIWGXtMzVObIxRpzesiio4Am1mPOOD5xW2fw29ksgn5GoM9pOTJSK8IhNCv_o6alLBVCHlA0zPeU2SJHCY1PLV2VzENN7FX30ZsrXSEYXE5cMSRhyTxw8GiYAqNM/s400/Top+5+Overlooked+Sights.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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Bologna is beloved for various reasons, some of its most obvious attributes fall under the three categories or nicknames that have been given to the city that any Bolognese can recite by heart; <i>la dotta, la rossa, la grassa. </i>Meaning Bologna is <i>the learned, the red </i>and<i> the fat</i>. Nicknames that clearly come from some of Bologna's most famous characteristics, <i>the learned</i> originates from Bologna being the esteemed birthplace of Europe's first college in 1088, Universita di Bologna, Alma Mater Studiorum. Bologna was given the title <i>the red</i> most obviously because of the bright colored terracotta roofs and red painted walls that give the city a bright hue of red and secondarily name <i>the red</i> because of it's historic connotation as being politically far left. And finally, <i>the fat</i> - I'm sure you can all guess why Bologna is named that? You're right, it might have something to do with being the food capital of Italy, being the home of <i>mortadella</i>, <i>prosciutto</i>, <i>tortellini,</i> and many other famous Italian delicacies. While these three Bolognese characteristics help solidify Bologna as one of the greatest Italian cities, Bologna is also home to many other treasures that often get overshadowed by <i>"La Dotta, La Rossa e La Grassa".</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
When you have limited time in Bologna, it only makes sense to run from Enoteca to Osteria to Pasticceria to Gelateria while fitting in some churches, the university and views of the red roof tops. But if you look all around you and really soak in your Bolognese surroundings in between your last bite of lasagna and your first lick of gelato, Bologna will transform into something else completely!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3jafNid3GBd8xCPoHijuAW0Tzn9ntDpNdj581c0EbTyuP67tig2soaPufaT4-tpw-syL0DidFPld5is55aeAPBrbx1rvZge2GwQgpfqoIun26FHr_NiD7uKJj5RHnrudBjslJwlPVZPOn/s1600/Le+Serrande+%25231+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3jafNid3GBd8xCPoHijuAW0Tzn9ntDpNdj581c0EbTyuP67tig2soaPufaT4-tpw-syL0DidFPld5is55aeAPBrbx1rvZge2GwQgpfqoIun26FHr_NiD7uKJj5RHnrudBjslJwlPVZPOn/s400/Le+Serrande+%25231+%25281%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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#1: Le Serrande | Shutters</div>
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If you're strolling though the streets of Bologna on a Thursday afternoon*, late at night or during a closing for <i>pausa</i> you may notice that there is a whole lot of crafty art on various store fronts. Many stores have artfully painted or grafiti-ed, if you will, their metal store front shutters (also known as <i>serrande</i>) that they use when shop is closed. One could spend days walking the streets looking at the various designs and illustrations on the doors. It's not quite determined why so many stores actually commission these pieces of artwork on their storefronts, but many believe they are painted to deter vandalization. So keep your eyes peeled and pick your favorite design when strolling the Bolognese streets!</div>
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<i>*Why Thursday Afternoon? Few tourists know that Thursday is Bologna's day of weekly closure for many stores!</i></div>
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#2: Le Cassette | Mailboxes</div>
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This may just be a treasure to those who are used to seeing oversized American mailboxes with little intrigue, but the mailboxes built into the sides of medieval buildings with intricate crests and Italian engravings are not to be over looked. These are not extremely common in Bologna so keep your eyes peeled. You'll find that stealing a quick glimpse at the iron work and reading the word <i>Cassetta</i> can make your day.</div>
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#3: Il Batacchio | Door Knocker</div>
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Depending on your height, this third overlooked treasure may be easier or harder to overlook. Door knockers in Bologna have some insane street appeal. With the grandness of some entry ways and doors opening up the grand Bolognese palazzi, you might find yourself staring at some pretty intense artwork adorning the key holes or taking place of a doorbell. Door knockers in Bologna are intricate and entertaining and there are a multitude of varieties to be found, so keep your eyes trained on the doors as you walk the porticos of Bologna.</div>
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#4: Le Lanterne | Lanterns</div>
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Lanterns light up every portico of Bologna and they aren't just your normal street lamps. Massive, intricate iron lanterns hang from the ceilings providing light and a little piece of art to admire. While the lanterns that line the porticos are beautiful, you might find some really extraordinary and unique lanterns at various street corners, like the one pictured above by the <i>farmacia</i>. These are the real street treat!</div>
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#5: Modanatura | Moldings</div>
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If you have a bad neck, refrain from seeking out the fifth overlooked treasure of Bologna. Many of Bologna's <i>palazzi </i>have very intricate moldings a stone work throughout their facades. When you find an even walking surface, don't be afraid to look up and scan the sides of buildings, they won't disappoint. And if you find yourself in Piazza delle Sette Chiese or Santo Stefano, make sure you let your eyes wander here! As you arrive in the piazza the facades above the porticos are topped with beautifully adorned heads. Not to miss!</div>
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Bologna is full of detail, so enjoy the little things it has to offer! (As well as the parmigiana!)</div>
Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-52742121594858800642015-09-28T17:44:00.000-07:002015-09-28T17:44:15.053-07:00A two bedroom apartment, a vecchierella, a vecchietto, 8 giovani & two Italian rental carsThe fun wasn't over yet! After waking up early to defend my thesis in Italian (what an accomplishment), running back and forth across Bologna to have the right cappuccinos and eat lunch, attend the graduation proclamation, climb the <i>torre asinelli</i> and celebrate with my friends and family at a lovely <i>aperitivo</i> at <i>La Sartoria </i>in Piazza Aldrovandi, we were pooped. Sleeping that night in 90 degree weather never felt so good. My emotions were all over the place, my family and loved onces had come to see me accomplish one of my greatest feats of my life and not even 24 hours later I had leave the city I grew to love and call home. It was a bittersweet affair, and luckily I had friends and family there to support me and whisk me off quickly like tearing a band-aid off. And I had the saving grace of returning for a few days to run the half marathon before I departed Italy with intention of establishing a job and life at home in Boston.<br />
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That also means I had to pack and move my apartment.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dottoressa D'Ambrosio ;)</td></tr>
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We were up and at 'em the next morning despite being dead tired. Toni perked the Moka and issues cappuccino's for all, for the last time on my tiny Via Solferino stove. I fortunately had packed up most of my small belongings and things that I had brought from home or purchased over my time there, the only thing left for those items was fitting them into the car. Further, I found out at the last minute that my landlord was going to be gutting the apartment and wouldn't use most of the kitchen items or anything else for that matter so that left us in the position to take what we wanted which would be especially useful since we'd have to furnish the house we had been renovating. The only problem that posed, was an issue of space that maybe the photo below can do a good job explaining without any extra explanation.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJIyAE0DTNosL6hRV53QFiNaMp7JChsTniBobhwNUAMfGyEhOh1OSuzU2j3ERV6IrMyGORWAppvTGisukfeupLxRFwqTT9Rotb-UsLXHw_puBh5nY0ThR3UoKA5ag5WgC-ykHRvdB71wds/s1600/IMG_0042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJIyAE0DTNosL6hRV53QFiNaMp7JChsTniBobhwNUAMfGyEhOh1OSuzU2j3ERV6IrMyGORWAppvTGisukfeupLxRFwqTT9Rotb-UsLXHw_puBh5nY0ThR3UoKA5ag5WgC-ykHRvdB71wds/s320/IMG_0042.JPG" width="240" /></a>But, <i>comunque</i>, the other request from my landlord was that I remove the extra bed that had been purchased for the second bedroom. My options were to disassemble it and leave it on the side of the road, or disassemble it and give it to my good friend Alonso who had expressed interest in the bed. Since we D'Ambrosio/Serafinis do not waste, we opted to give the bed to Alonso if he promised to be at my apartment by 8:30am to help disassemble it and show my brother the way to his apartment to relocate it. Surprinsgly, Alonso was prompt, but our disassembling methods were not. Three sweaty 15 minute round trips by foot to the hardware store happened in order to secure the Allen wrench that would fit the screw size on the Ikea bed. Alex seemed a little frustrated with the process, but Alonso was pretty happy to switch from a twin bed to a <i>matrimoniale. </i>After the mattress was safely in Alonso's apartment, Alex returned with the car and we began to load up the rest of my two years in Via Solferino. I was shocked with the amount of stuff that had accumulated, especially since I had begun sending things home with my parents whenever I had the chance. Since we also had a home to furnish that we were in the process of renovating <i>(Zeppone)</i> we also took the liberty to pack the car with kitchen things that my landlord had said was free game to take since he planned on renovating and moving into my apartment after I vacated it. Bittersweet day to say the least. By 10:00am we had the car packed with everything, including Mokas, espresso cups, pots & pans, chairs, suitcases and a basil plant. We were off to the Muto and just like that Bologna was no longer my home. That sentence literally hurt my heart to write! (Have missed it everyday since, even when I was there this August I missed it) So off to Muto squished between a chair, my aunt & Tim, sitting on top of layers of sheets and towels. What a drive! And the Nonni didn't have it any better.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLC_BqTCPZH77pMBJDu5bwreCWpcyVLjDL4nfzrbwl4E1Xe4m41vKGbsDbhX-diukLN-FnZ8kxrTJ-oEc0q_mCVXWdLrpBhNBKvhkdgMvaUrAKOI88Gxn94CPQZCuj8IU19YqWyi-ismN/s1600/IMG_0040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfLC_BqTCPZH77pMBJDu5bwreCWpcyVLjDL4nfzrbwl4E1Xe4m41vKGbsDbhX-diukLN-FnZ8kxrTJ-oEc0q_mCVXWdLrpBhNBKvhkdgMvaUrAKOI88Gxn94CPQZCuj8IU19YqWyi-ismN/s400/IMG_0040.JPG" width="400" /></a>Nonna, Nonno, Mom, Dad, Marana, Alex, Michael, Tim, Toni and I shoved with my two years of life in Bologna into two tiny Italian rental cars to make the 6-7 hour drive home to Muto. What a crazy and emotional couple of days in Bologna and what a perfect end to my Italian sojourn in Bologna. If I hadn't had everyone with me, I don't know if I could've ever left Via Solferino alone!<br />
The best part was, I had the rest of the summer ahead of me to spend in Italy with the people I love. The adventure was no where near over and who am I kidding, Bologna was certainly already built into my future's plans!<br />
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Liahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14094966843362829722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2546209787198754272.post-22250068610275625872015-07-22T19:39:00.003-07:002015-07-25T07:19:54.542-07:00Dottore, Dottore, Dottore...<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, My <i>coronocina</i> and my Torre :)</td></tr>
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I'll let you finish the saying that I started in the title if you know it...And if you don't, maybe you'll learn it by the end of this blog post, maybe ;)<br />
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Any tourist, visitor, or inhabitant of Bologna has witnessed the weeks of graduation ceremonies that occur throughout the year in the city center and might identify the laurel graduate crown, students dressed in costumes and loud Italian chanting as the symbol of Bologna instead of Piazza Maggiore, Le Due Torri, Mortadella and tortellini. And right they are, the <i>laurea</i> is a key aspect of the Bolognese lifestyle, an enriching part of the city's identity and one of the main reasons why many of Bologna's inhabitants have chosen Bologna as their Alma Mater.<br />
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As a matter of fact, in my first weeks living as a Bolognese I was sometimes startled by the <i>scherzi</i> or jokes that Italian students play on their graduation day, some of those <i>scherzi</i> include signs with graduates faces imposed on interesting images or others bodies all over the city (jokingly), students dressed up as Pikachus, unicorns, fairys, you name it, running all over Bologna, La Dotta, forced to pull pranks on tourists and any willing volunteer, commanded by their peers. This could have been me, had I acquired that group of friends...but I was luckily blessed with low key reserved friends :) While some people are sprayed with ketchup and egged on their <i>giorno di laurea</i>, graduation day, there are also other graduates who walk through the Bolognese streets, and while they don't stand out in a crowd like a Pikachu might, they do wear a distinct head piece that separates them from the rest and also resonates as a powerful symbol of Bolognese (and Italian) culture.<br />
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<i>La Coroncina di Laurea </i>or <i>La Coroncina di Alloro per Laurea | </i>The Graduation Crown or The Crown of Laurels for Graduation<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Priceless. Ti voglio Bene :)</td></tr>
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This is the symbol that resonated with me in my first days in Bologna, and this is the symbol that inspired me to make it to my Italian graduation day (along with another superstition I'll explain later).<br />
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The <i>Laurea</i> is a coveted accomplishment in Italian culture, especially in Bologna who is home to the world's oldest university in continuous operation, founded in 1088. After I was introduced into Bolognese society, began taking courses at the prestigious university and witnessed newly graduated students roaming the streets in their <i>coroncine, </i>a goal was set in mind and it motivated me from my first stroll through the main square. Additionally, it also fostered a new found appreciation for the city that I fortunately chose to pursue my masters studies in.<br />
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Throughout my first year at Bologna, I noticed there were distinct times of the year when the <i>neo laureati</i> (newly graduated) would be out and about showing off their laurels or pulling pranks with friends throughout the city center. As I dove into classes and got familiar with the Italian university system the Italian graduation day became more clear and justified the various potential graduation dates for a group of students who might have all started class on the same day. Just as getting used to taking oral exams was a challenge, understanding the graduation was a challenge as well, but as I started to understand the exam schedule, <i>la laurea</i> logistics began to fall into place as well.<br />
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In the Italian University system exam period is much different than exam period in the United States. A typical course runs the semester and attendance is often given as a choice. A student can either be considered a <i>frequentanti</i>, someone who attends the class, or a <i>non frequentanti</i>, a student who does not attend the class. Both types of students are enrolled in a particular course and have the opportunity to receive a grade and be tested on the coursework, however each path comes with merits and challenges. I chose the <i>frequentanti </i>path since I knew I was incapable of self study to learn the material, and it just made sense that I would get far more out of seeing the teacher, hearing Italian every day, interacting with my classmates and building relationships at school was a far better option than the latter. But a <i>non frequentanti</i> might argue that they work two jobs and don't have time to attend class, can teach themselves well out of the book, and are capable of putting all their eggs in one basket to either pass or fail the one exam that counts toward your grade. I opted for the interim assignments to test my knowledge and help my grade, along with creating relationships with my <i>docenti</i> and <i>colleghi. </i><br />
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For any class, there is the normal class period where class is in session, normally the duration of a regular semester. Immediately following the end of the class period, exam period begins. BUT, exam period is not as simple as it may sounds. Exams are broken up into <i>appelli</i> or sessions, and each class has the opportunity to take the exam at one of three options of <i>appelli</i>. Generally there are three <i>appelli</i> immediately following the end of the semester for a certain course, so a student will have three different exam dates to choose from. If you are a <i>frequentanti</i> like I was, most professors also do a <i>pre appello </i>or pre session<i> </i>offering of the exam then generally follows the week after classes end. The regular sessions start 4-5 weeks after the end of the semester, for example, classes ending in may would have their first exam session mid June, and the following sessions would happen monthly, in July then in September. If you fail the first session or get an undesirable grade you are allowed to take the exam the following session or even wait until the next semesters session to re take it.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Huddled around my kitchen table!</td></tr>
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For me, the <i>appello</i> I took my exam in was always obvious. I don't know if it was my Union College experience that helped me not procrastinate or just the thought of studying for longer than necessary that turned me away from postponing exams, but if there was a <i>pre appello</i> in my classes I took it, and if I couldn't I took it the first session possible and as a result I was the first student in my class to complete all of my exams. Carrying this mentality, I learned about the graduation sessions, and since I was successful in completing my exams on time, this allowed me to be successful in graduating on time as well.<br />
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Graduation in Italy does not happen all on one day like it does in the US. That becomes obvious when you stroll down the cobblestone streets of Bologna and see a <i>neolaureato</i> on almost any day of the week. Why? This is because the graduation dates happen similarly to the way exams happen: in sessions. Each department has their own <i>appelli di laurea</i> that generally follow the same monthly schedule, for example, my department of Political Science has graduations sessions in July, October, December and then March the following year. Since I completed all of my exams by June, I was able to apply myself and write thesis like crazy to be ready for the first session in July. In retrospect, maybe I should have taken my sweet time writing and extend my Bolognese experience through the following year?<br />
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But Lina and I had the same mindset. Finish your studies as soon as you can, do not prolong the torture of stress associated with studies! And we did it!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">051 @ Piazza Maggiore</td></tr>
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<b>A year ago today marks my Bolognese graduation day.</b> It's hard to believe it's been a year since I had one of the best days of my life. The stress of the Italian education system culminated on July 22, 2014. I was successful in completing all of my classes and exams on time (without failing) and my language skills had developed enough to be able to defend my 119 page thesis in Italian! What an accomplishment! I had been through ups and downs during my studies and my time away from home, and I had also avoided climbing the beautiful Torri Asinelli for two years, in fear that the old Bolognese superstition claiming that if you climbed the tower prior to your graduation date you would never graduate could be true. Finally, <b>July 22nd</b> was going to be the day to prove it was all worth it and boy was I not disappointed at all!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixhIf_WLmebTsZMcziVVkNo3EPXQWoL2vpjXxM2CqtoqV3HjJj1p9ajc_pkDhtOYO76F0hCUo8NOnjAbHXpoiTIKYPNCvBMIah1BrfX98DREC14fkfRdTkARSKZ3mG9W_aBCTTr72x8O0i/s1600/download+%25283%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixhIf_WLmebTsZMcziVVkNo3EPXQWoL2vpjXxM2CqtoqV3HjJj1p9ajc_pkDhtOYO76F0hCUo8NOnjAbHXpoiTIKYPNCvBMIah1BrfX98DREC14fkfRdTkARSKZ3mG9W_aBCTTr72x8O0i/s200/download+%25283%2529.jpeg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Al Sangiovese</td></tr>
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Tim, Alex & Michael arrived the Friday before my graduation, I don't want to get into the detail of everything since this post is already long, but man did we have fun! We ate and drank in all the great spots including Osteria del Sole, birra up at San Michele in Bosco, Piadine, Tigelle, Marsalino, gelato, Spacca Napoli etc. We made it to Modena and Maranello for the car lovers, and even managed to force Alex to walk up to San Luca... Cappuccino pit stops were necessary and welcomed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWpC1B1iSLRyzdR7Rju748N6_KD5vsLzhc0lSp29Ot04WSkNSFVgoWBcW24UW_rp6U4D9sYuj8AErINovKispqCsSrhU8W9eMvMpMFCs7nu3-Q4LkWLWJrO2LCBZGLEmMVMcMH0qu786xJ/s1600/IMG_0023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWpC1B1iSLRyzdR7Rju748N6_KD5vsLzhc0lSp29Ot04WSkNSFVgoWBcW24UW_rp6U4D9sYuj8AErINovKispqCsSrhU8W9eMvMpMFCs7nu3-Q4LkWLWJrO2LCBZGLEmMVMcMH0qu786xJ/s200/IMG_0023.JPG" width="150" /></a>The rest of the family arrived on Sunday evening. The nonni had been driven up by my parents and Toni in the rental car (Happy that Toni thankfully gave in and stuck around long enough with the Nonni at Muto to make it to Bologna!), it was a long 8 hour drive from Muto and after my Nonno had fallen earlier that week they thought the trip might not have been possible. I was so grateful for their arrival and they seemed beyond grateful to have arrived safely in Bologna for my Italian graduation. The next two days leading up to my graduation were madness, it was amazing having so many family members and friends (Thanks Marana!) there to support me, but wheeling two <i>vecchieti</i> around Bologna and making a decision for a group of 14 people was not easy and as low stress as I had anticipated. While I tried to entertain and show my beautiful BO to family and friends, I also had to deal with printing and binding my final finished thesis product and prepare myself on the Italian vocabulary I would have to use in my discussion as well as be prepared to answer any questions asked of me concerning my paper.<br />
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Despite the stress and arguing, I still managed to have my last few days in Bologna be among the best. On Sunday evening we all walked to Piazza Grande to eat outside <i>al fresco</i> in the alley the hugged the right flank of San Petronio. Nearby we could hear "Cabaret" being screened on the <i>Maxi schermo</i> in the Piazza as part of the Cinema Sotto le Stelle program that extended the month of July. The previous days had been burdened with unbearable heat, but that Sunday temperatures started to cool and we had the most perfect evening in Piazza. Pignoletto was drank, tortellini were tasted, roses were bought from street vendors, and jokes and fun were had by all.<br />
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Monday was craziness as well. We dragged my Nonna and Nonno across town so they could see some of Bologna. My Nonno was very excited to be back in Bologna since his only time in the city had been when he was passing through during World War II. He loved sitting in Piazza Maggiore and soaking up the atmosphere, and I don't blame him, there just isn't anything like it! My mom and I grocery shopped at the Coop in Santo Stefano while the Nonni rested for a little, then we ran home to prepare lunch in my lovely little Via Solferino apartment. While we prepared lunch everyone opted to do their own thing, nap, walk around, shop, grab a cappuccino... then at lunch time the Nonni were whisked to my apartment that thankfully had an elevator and we all squished around my table meant for 4 or maybe 6. We had the best lunch among the best company and enjoying the best view of San Michele in Bosco. My nonni were so happy to see the apartment where I had lived for the past two years and they were excited to have a family event over good food and wine in my tiny little kitchen My Nonna couldn't believe I managed to survive using the tiny stove, oven and sink for two years! What a riot! After lunch the cycle restarted, naps, cappuccios, shopping and walking on your own accord until yes, dinner time! The rain began before dinner time so walking efforts became hindered slightly, but we managed to all make it to Al Sangiovese in my neck of the woods for another fabulous dinner. The food, the wine and the company made it exceptional! I tried not to drink much vino since the big day was to follow, but I joined in a lovely <i>brindisi</i> and we all made it to bed on the early side, with most of my nerves subsided for the big day.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nonni & Lucio Dalla</td></tr>
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Planning for the graduation day had been a nightmare since leading up to it we weren't positive on the timing of <i>la discussione</i> and <i>la proclamazione</i>. Tuesday there would be two separate events, 9:00am started the list of defenses (<i>la discussion</i>), luckily I was second in line, but there was no way to tell the exact time I would defend my thesis to the panel, and then the proclamation was held at a different location a few hours later, making eating and drinking logistics with a group of 20 people kind of difficult. I woke up stressed as heck, I was nervous about my family making it to my defense by 9, them causing a scene (because that is normally how it goes down) and then nervous for my own material, afraid that I might not be able to search my Italian vocabulary in a time of desperate measures in order to efficiently and correctly communicate the point of my thesis. But there wasn't much time to stress. Tim and I headed off down Via Rialto, past La Sorbetteria and we stopped at my go to Cafe on Via Guerazzi where I had half a cappuccino in fear that the caffeine would affect me negatively, then we walked down to Scienze Politiche at Strada Maggiore, 45 to get the scoop from Lina on the proceedings of the morning and to make sure everything was in order. When I had left my apartment Alex and Michael were barely awake and certainly not showered so in the back of my mind I was stressed about their arrival, and similarly I had no idea on the whereabouts of my parents and Nonni. Additionally, I had Gaetano and Christina arriving from Torino, and my wonderful <i>famiglia fiorentina</i> arriving from Firenze with two little ones in tow... who knew how the day would unfold!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUxPLuN3S548lJxC9gp_rhv59oF8TaFaxt-6NHCuyg2aXGlI-xqe3nDsPYxtacAs3Q8k4eaGoALq4grRwscMVCZ_FHjAkMGGSWWc7LD3SpLg_IpFdKwO9ncB5v9MB9bodSiOVRg32fBk3/s1600/download+%252811%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUxPLuN3S548lJxC9gp_rhv59oF8TaFaxt-6NHCuyg2aXGlI-xqe3nDsPYxtacAs3Q8k4eaGoALq4grRwscMVCZ_FHjAkMGGSWWc7LD3SpLg_IpFdKwO9ncB5v9MB9bodSiOVRg32fBk3/s320/download+%252811%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3BRC0cY6H7UMQJ5psgfmzpi30nX-3o8I6FugNwaiJyB2BFURqpDuKJxg7hd9-LfQ-CsC3jZzfjRs7dWtYCXl-s1jyRHG_agbJBKfWEo7UipfC9TM0LUxfom8efI1fJRs0vK-nTRuppcrX/s1600/download+%252810%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3BRC0cY6H7UMQJ5psgfmzpi30nX-3o8I6FugNwaiJyB2BFURqpDuKJxg7hd9-LfQ-CsC3jZzfjRs7dWtYCXl-s1jyRHG_agbJBKfWEo7UipfC9TM0LUxfom8efI1fJRs0vK-nTRuppcrX/s200/download+%252810%2529.jpeg" width="200" /></a>By 9:00am I was prepared. I had found Lina and conferred with her about my fears. I had found my wonderful <i>relatore</i> or advisor, Professor Partington, who advised me I was well prepared for my discussion. And slowly but surely my friends and family began to fill the courtyard of Strada Maggiore, 45 while the first graduate went into Aula A to be questioned by the <i>Commissione di Laurea. </i>Relief, anxiety, fear, excitement, you name it! Was all happening in my mind. I was due second according to the list, but after the first person finished, I was asked if someone could cut me in line, so I was bumped to third, unknowing of what time I would actually face the <i>Commissione</i> and my graduation fate. My friends and family distracted me as I waited anxiously for the door to open and for them to call the next candidate "Lia D'Ambrosio". I rushed in and my family quickly mobilized behind me wheeling my Nonno into the tight turns of Aula A, behind him came the carriage with Chiara's two children, Giada and Andrea, Claudia followed, then Gaetano & Christina and the rest of the crew (Alex, Tim, Michael, Samantha, Jessica, Lina, Li etc). I was unaware there was a head of the commission, so before I sat I handed copies of my thesis to my advisor Professor Partington and my Co advisor, and looked clueless on where to hand the third, when Partington nicely pointed me to the man sitting in the middle of desk and panel of professors and opposite a lone chair that was clearly going to be the hot seat. I gave the head of the commission (Prof Gozzi) my thesis and sat nervously with my back to my friends and family audience and facing Prof Gozzi directly along with 5 professors to his left and his right... talk about intimidation! Ha! It was go time! Professor Gozzi mentioned that I might like to present my defense in English, and I let him know it was kind of him to ask but since I did my studies in Italian I'd like to give my final stand in Italian as well, he agreed and I proceeded to give my spiel, stumbling at first over the Italian, but then getting into the flow. A couple minutes in, my advisor kindly reminded me I had a handout for the panel/commission, so I got flushed and embarrassed again, handed out the sheets and recomposed myself to finish my 15 minute defense. At the close of my time, I was relieved, but only for a moment! Now it was the panels turn to ask a question... starting with my advisor (such a nice man!), he asked and I responded... generally only your advisor asks a question, but I was surprised to here Prof. Gozzi directly across from me begin to ask me a second question... he seemed really truly intrigued in my work! Psyched, I answered his question and I was done, they sent me (and my audience) out of the room to deliberate, they called me back in a few minutes later expressing that I had done well enough to be invited to the graduation ceremony that afternoon... WHAT A RELIEF!!!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD8XhcBfvunubUWedekLOObLYU7vBD5XPOcP1OE8DPnn-X0nBtOvxoESkXLywQPJfYd07bV4MjU59ouNtEtIPoGT28pwXrgiDnNtR_pXEJmev0dsa52sdayEeRw9q6ptGSdFmcxkFFpzeO/s1600/download+%25287%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD8XhcBfvunubUWedekLOObLYU7vBD5XPOcP1OE8DPnn-X0nBtOvxoESkXLywQPJfYd07bV4MjU59ouNtEtIPoGT28pwXrgiDnNtR_pXEJmev0dsa52sdayEeRw9q6ptGSdFmcxkFFpzeO/s320/download+%25287%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandi amici :)</td></tr>
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Out in the courtyard I was congratulated and overwhelmed with all of the built up anxiety that I could finally let go. I thanked my professor for helping me achieve such a wonderful accomplishment then I went back into see Lina finish her discussion since she was right after mine. What a thrill to have both accomplished so much and in such a short time. Lina and I were the only ones from our class graduating during that <i>appello</i> there were maybe 7 students in total, some from other programs within political science and a couple from our International Relations program but who had started the year before us.... <i>che grande emozioni!</i> Lina and I were finished! So I told her I'd see her at <i>la proclamazione</i> and I was off with my posse to grab a cappuccino on Strada Maggiore and then to have a fabulous lunch at Al Torinese under the porticos of Piazza Maggiore. Life was good! After lunch my host family had to depart to catch their trains, I thanked them immensely for attending since they were a huge part of my initial florentine experience and my love for Italy, then I walked the crew down to the classroom where <i>la proclamazione</i> was held. The actual graduation ceremony was short, simple and underwhelming. A number of our professors were dressed in judge type robes and marched into a classroom with the graduates in it. We line up along the side of the room and then Professor Endrici (La Endrici) announced each of us and proclaimed we had become <i>Dottore</i> by Italian law and also announced our final grades. I was psyched as I achieved a 100/110, which was beyond my expectations of a grade, my lovely Lina got a 110/110 <i>con lode</i>, she is such a hard worker and truly intelligent woman, lucky to have her as a friend during my two years at Uni :) But the main thing I walked away from that <i>proclamazione</i> with was a title and a feeling, I was now a <i>dottoressa</i>, and my adventure to becoming a <i>dottoressa</i> was above and beyond and the most important people in my life were there to witness it! SO thankful for everyone who supported me through my ups and downs in BO and so thankful to have such a strong family bond through my Nonni who inspired me to embrace the country they immigrated from so many years ago. I was and still am so proud to have completed this feat with them as witnesses!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3hSEX97JZ_YVPYGeOR7TEkZzPqTTd0tBhRYhqBNlrkcRwzBUlVawsiGTZd4hlhtYz5x-Dt7ubOEHoKgoHHtYMp0NVAY2LQTOzFsk-MmeoYDYfrBtf_rpoJ-JGoqHoOA6_717WcsOjWdOK/s1600/download+%25286%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3hSEX97JZ_YVPYGeOR7TEkZzPqTTd0tBhRYhqBNlrkcRwzBUlVawsiGTZd4hlhtYz5x-Dt7ubOEHoKgoHHtYMp0NVAY2LQTOzFsk-MmeoYDYfrBtf_rpoJ-JGoqHoOA6_717WcsOjWdOK/s400/download+%25286%2529.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So blessed :)</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrzCbx1h4Zgnnjqc_Py9_L-jwOwkuWE7KxC5mayegJTHilH4zLxmseXLu8tmvB71XdvrAtW-GI48rIdHmyDNNZ9TaM70h9WgHW1-jpL_GfuEDxfm7wnc6bmO_tM6a82vctdemvAFzAk44/s1600/download+%25285%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrzCbx1h4Zgnnjqc_Py9_L-jwOwkuWE7KxC5mayegJTHilH4zLxmseXLu8tmvB71XdvrAtW-GI48rIdHmyDNNZ9TaM70h9WgHW1-jpL_GfuEDxfm7wnc6bmO_tM6a82vctdemvAFzAk44/s320/download+%25285%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a><br />
From the semi underwhelming proclamation of 20 minutes we headed outside for photos and <i>auguri</i>, and Alonso, Alena, Li and Lavinia brought Lina and I our <i>Coroncine</i> with purple ribbon (Purple signifies we were from the department of Political sciences) - It was official! My turn to shine and walk the streets of Bologna as a <i>dottoressa</i> and <i>coroncine! Coroncine </i>and all we began to diverge from the classroom, some may have begun to chant <i>dottore, dottore, dottore...</i> (they were probably for the other graduates and I know Alonso was saying it under his breath as well, haa!) as we walked away, and I don't know if everyone knew where they were headed, but I sure as hell was headed straight towards that Torre Asinelli...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rewards!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhraR7ZrTzbIJsiFAw1GXA24sOepFMqd11z3uhmDyWmsN_gVTfdquDZnb4vIYoampNjaBIYkZQ2CGS3ZHxxF56LKRBuVpkoHUJ_rbtCsNMoPCqPwg7N_8V6FMsRKfHL4-nGj6IFUHgWv6db/s1600/IMG_0039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhraR7ZrTzbIJsiFAw1GXA24sOepFMqd11z3uhmDyWmsN_gVTfdquDZnb4vIYoampNjaBIYkZQ2CGS3ZHxxF56LKRBuVpkoHUJ_rbtCsNMoPCqPwg7N_8V6FMsRKfHL4-nGj6IFUHgWv6db/s200/IMG_0039.JPG" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New campanello title!</td></tr>
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What a reward! For more than one! -- Tim's Union graduation reward as well ;) A group of us climbed the tower, grins on our faces and excitement exploding. It was the perfect end to my time in Bologna. The view was breathtaking, I could point out all of the different places I had walked to so many times, I could point out my house, where school was, where I ate pizza the most often and you could see the outline of Bologna <i>la rossa</i> enveloped by the famouse <i>viale e porte</i> and engulfed by green rolling hills. It felt amazing to be on top of that tower looking out at the breathtaking landscape and medieval towers and porticos of Bologna, and to be doing at as a new <i>dottoressa</i> with my best friends, boyfriend and family was an indescribable feeling! We stayed up there for hours admiring the view, soaking it in and chatting... the day wasn't over yet, cocktails and aperitivi were to be had to close out my <i>numero uno</i> day and my last day living in Bologna! Bittersweet!<br />
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If you're still curious about the <i>dottore</i> song.... take a look at this link! But shhh... I didn't tell you about it! <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GvCbOEk6tGM%20%C2%A0" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GvCbOEk6tGM </a>-> Typical sight in BO!<br />
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