Here Comes the Sunny

So here she is- due to popular request- some pictures of our new puppy, Sunny!  We got her this past November as a playful, sweet, 10-week-old and today she is already 4 months and giving us a run for our money!  She's a West Highland White Terrier, and quickly proving to be as clever and stubborn as we are.  Her favorites include helping us find things on the floor we never knew were there, chewing (hands and feet included!), running, meeting new people, new dogs, and napping.  We're loving the puppy months (missing some sleep) and enjoying all the cuddling. 

Joern holding her for the very first time

Getting to know her new home

Any treats?

She's a noodle!

First snow walk (not a fan of sweaters)

Looking very Scottish

The pack

Time for a power nap

 

When in Rome

So after an embarrassingly long and inexcusable blogging absence, it’s back!  I am all over this blogging stuff.  Oddly enough, my spelling is getting ever more interesting as my brain tries to process all these new things!  Hopefully Word will catch all the really bad mistakes. 

Last week Joern and I needed to use up some leftover rental car points.  What better way to use them than a vacation in Italy!  We had such a good time, driving, cooking and taking over 3,000 pictures between the two of us (I became a master of the out-the-car-window-shot).  We stuffed so much into one week, I’ll try to lay it out here.  It was a trip to remember!

 Rome

We flew late Friday and spent the night in Rome (lucky us, with no jet lag!).  By spend the night in Rome, I mean we spent most of the night searching Rome for our hotel using the Train/Metro/Tram/Bus system.  I think this would have been a lot easier had it not been pitch black and pouring rain while we carried all of our luggage.  The trick of it is that the names of the stops seemed to be limited to that same six names arranged in different orders.  Anyway, we found the hotel and after drying out, were ready to hit the city!

                In Rome, we basically completed the greatest hits route.  The problem is, you really can’t see all the greatest hits Rome has to offer in one day.  So we hit our top five-ish.  We saw the Coliseum (Joern’s favorite), the Pantheon, toured the piazza in front of the Vatican (I’ve already been inside and line was insane), the Trevi, the Spanish Steps, and put our hands in the Mouth of Truth (my favorite!).  We also walked through the free parts of the Roman ruins and went through a very cool neighborhood called Trastevere (this is where you should eat).  The sheer number of people who were there in the rain was almost as astonishing as the sites themselves.  I’m proud to say that Joern and I learned the public transport system, which is a combination of guesswork, luck, and running, but also very affordable.  We took a break for dinner (pizza of course!) and gelato.  Joern then took all kinds of really fancy night pictures.  

The Amalfi Coast   

                The next day we picked up our rental car, the faithful Lancia Delta.  We got it at the airport so luckily it spared us from driving though downtown Rome (that day at least).  We plugged in our German GPS, Sheila, and took off south.  The going was great, there were so many mountains and olives and grapevines!  We then took the famous Amalfi Coast drive through twists and turns and switchbacks.  When one isn’t used to sheer rock faces and cliffs while driving, it can be a bit stressful.  Good thing we’ve gone down roads like that before.  Bad thing we’ve never done it with Italian drivers.

                A few notes on driving in Italy:  Let me say, I found the Italian people warm, welcoming, and completely crazy when it came to driving.  It could be a feature of Fiats, but it seemed that the pedals only worked when pressed completely to the floor.  If you look at our pictures sequentially, you can actually see Joern and me visibly aging.  It could be because all road signs, traffic markings, and rules were treated more like suggestions.  Same for helmets and seat belts.  Some people decided to follow them, others not.  Many cars fit through turns because they took them on two wheels.  Joern was a brave, daring, and acrobatic driver the whole time!  I think there may be nail marks on my side of the dashboard, but after just two days, Joern drove like a pro, with just the right amount of honking to add flavor and panache.

                As our drive along the coast with a few stops for pictures, pottery, and lunch ended, we began to look for our Bed and Breakfast in Sorrento.  It was still breathtakingly beautiful with the ocean, the mountains, and all of these tiny colorful houses perched impossibly close to the edges.  We were admiring the olive groves in the fading sunset when Sheila announced we had reached our destination.  There were only olives around us, some with nets under them to catch the harvest (don’t work more than you have to, right?). 

                After some investigating, we concluded that there was no Bed and Breakfast in the trees.  We double-checked the address; drove around a bit more, and nothing proved very helpful.  Finally, Joern stopped at a different hotel to ask directions.  Another thing I loved about Italy is how helpful everyone is.  It didn’t matter if you spoke no Italian (very careless, I really should have learned at the very least Spanish, I was told), or if they spoke no English- it never got in the way of a 15 minute conversation.  I watched through the window as Joern began his conversation with the concierge, who was joined by the bellboy.  The bus driver in the parking lot also jumped out of his bus to join in.  All three men made enormous, urgent hands gestures in seemingly opposite directions.  Joern stood in the middle of this all, nodding and sometimes gesturing helplessly at his long-forgotten address.  Another concierge came out and started up the computer and then all four began the conversation anew over the map. 

                We left half an hour later, relieved that soon we could finally get to our room, unpack, and attend to the all-important question of dinner.  We drove contentedly along a dark olive grove, with high, ancient-looking stone walls on either side of us.  The walls were dappled grey, with moss here and there, and also a mosaic of paint from cars that had gotten too close.  The walls grew in detail as they somehow got closer and closer to our car.  Finally, Joern came to a stop as we had maybe 2 inches on either side.  Looking ahead, it only got narrower, and it became clear that we physically didn’t fit in the road!  We had to back out for about 300 yards and try to recalculate from there.  This happened twice more before we finally found our lovely bed and breakfast with a view of the bay.  We got in, changed, and then enjoyed a wonderful dinner at the restaurant that we had passed maybe 6 times in our travels.    

Matera to Lecce

                The next day we enjoyed a wonderful breakfast, chatting with the owner, Luigi.  Next stop, Matera!  There we saw some of the oldest human settlements in the world, the Sassi.  It was pretty cold and raining that day, and also we got there during the quiet lunchtime hour.  So there really wasn’t anyone there at all except us.  It made the stone houses look even older to me.  We took a bunch of pictures and then found a small restaurant that was still open, where they recommended…pizza of course!  We had a great meal and hit the road again, into the heel of the boot, into Lecce.  

                Lecce was one of my favorite cities.  It was-like every other city we visited-very old, but the buildings still had so much energy.  The streets were narrow and wind-y and because of the rain, a little wet, which reflected off the limestone of the shops and restaurants.  It was dark by the time we ate our fashionably late Italian dinner, and everything was sort of bathed in a golden light.  Very romantic! 

 

Our dinner was an antipasti of different sorts of thinly sliced fish, and our primi was two famous Puglian (the region) pasta dishes.  By the way, you have to be a professional competitive food eater to make it through more than two Italian dinner courses.  It just can’t be done.  Our pasta was ceci e tria (chick peas with pasta - half fried and half not- in a butter sauce) and orecchiette with turnip greens.  Both were amazing! 

The next day we explored the Old Town, which included a Roman Ampitheater (Italy is just crawling with cool stuff thousands of years old) and lots of pasta shops.  We saw a really cool old Fiat 500 and took a few shots.  A lady ran over to us from across the street, yelling in Italian.  We said “sorry!” and tried to beat a hasty retreat, but she ran after us, still talking in Italian.  After a while I made out “Entra! Entra!”  She opened up the doors and had me jump in so Joern could get a better picture!  Only in Italy!  We then decided to hit the beach.  It was a little cold, but perfect for walking with a jacket.  We spent the afternoon trying to decide which stop we liked the best.  

Then came what I was looking forward to the whole trip- a cooking class!  We met the owner of a small restaurant in the Old Town, and a nice couple from England.  Together we made pasta from scratch, Pappardelle and lasagna.  The pappardelle had a great tomato-garlic sauce and the lasagna was basically pure cheese (mozerella and ricotta) and obscene amounts of truffle.  Everyone had a great time trying to keep up with the electric pasta roller!  After cooking up an appetite, we ate our creations along with a fish course and dessert (I guess this means we can enter eating competitions now).  

Alberobello and Bari

The next day saw us driving north to the town of Alberobello.  Luckily, our crazy GPS Sheila took us on the scenic route through more mountains and olives and wine.  It’s a lot like driving through Iowan corn fields, except prettier.  We got our first glimpse of the Trulli, odd little houses shaped like beehives.  They look perfect for hobbits to me.  The old town has a huge village of them, and it was fun to visit the tourist shops just to see them from the inside.

 We arrived in Bari and went directly to visit St. Nicholas, aka Santa!!!  We saw where (most of him anyway) he was buried and enjoyed the paintings of him leaving coins in children’s shoes.

IT'S SANTA! I KNOW HIM!

  That night, we were so full of food and so tired, we decided to save Bari for the next trip.  Also it was raining again (I’m impressed with how many patched of blue sky Joern found to take pictures of).  So we bought a few rolls from a bakery and some cold cuts from the butcher and stayed in the hotel room that night.  We found an English TV channel and found out that half of America was underwater, without power, and many were now homeless.  It was a good night to stay in.

Pompei

                The next day we headed to Pompei (Italians don’t bother with two i’s).  A little background: as a teacher, I’ve brought up, read about, or used the story of Pompei and Vesuvius at least once a year every year I’ve taught.  I’ve read so many stories, real or imagined, so it was a big deal for me to finally see this place.  I mean how many times can you say you stood under a volcano?  Needless to say, I had very high expectations.  Pompei exceeded them far and away.  I really felt like I could see exactly how people lived in this city, get a feel for the roads and infrastructure.  I was constantly surprised by little reminders of just how similar our daily lives were (people in Pompei ate fast food, too!).  We spent most of the day there, just amazed by the landscape and the mosaics.

                That evening we had another two-hour driving adventure through downtown Naples, trying to find our Bed and Breakfast in astoundingly narrow roads with even more motorbikes zipping around in the maybe foot of space between the car and the buildings.  It got a little crazy, and we may have ended up going through a pedestrian zone, perhaps twice, but some nice firefighters lent us their cell phone to call the Bed and Breakfast to get directions.  We finally got rid of the car and walked to the Pizza Road, Via dei Tribunali, where all the best pizza places in the heart of the Pizza Capitol that is Naples were.  We went to Sorbillo, and again our expectations were exceeded.  It was the pizza of my life, hot, crunchy, wood-fire burned and oozing with real mozzarella.  

Naples

                We got up ready to see a bit more of Naples, and marveled at the narrow roads and the sheer amount of art just stuffed inside the city.  We were both sad to see so much graffiti over many of the UNESCO World Heritage sites, and a lot of trash lying around.  My favorite was the right-hand chapel of the Duomo.  The ceiling seemed to float up and away with all the little cherubs, so pretty.  We walked back to the Metro station and went up to St. Elmo (that’s not a typo) to see the whole city and the bay one more time.  I also enjoyed the art gallery while Joern went crazy with photography.  After yet another amazing pizza, we picked up the car again and headed for Rome. 

Rome

Our last night in Rome was uneventful as we got in pretty late and were still stuffed from lunch.  We basically tried to fit everything into our bags that we previously had just tossed in the backseat of the car.  Everything made it in, barely.  We got up early the next day to be on time for our flight and to return the rental car, which in hindsight was a bit silly, as no one else at the airport was in a particular hurry that day.  Joern, me, and a lot of people headed for Vienna (our connection) made a neat, orderly line in front of the check-in counter.  We waited for about 45 minutes before two nice ladies came up and began to talk on their cell phones and type furiously at their keyboards.  After about 20 minutes of this, they were ready to help us. 

We made it through security in a similar fashion and got to our gate.  Boarding time came…and went as the Austrians and Germans once more rather hopefully formed a line to get on the plane.  15 minutes later another nice lady came to stand behind the counter and talk on her cell phone.  People began to fidget.  She then left for a few minutes and returned to keep talking.  Joern broke first and asked her if we were going to make our half-hour connection in Vienna.  “Of course, it’s no problem,” the lady replied.  By this time the plane had shown up, and the line breathed a visible sigh of relief and had their tickets in hand (some pre-folded on the perforated line).  Alas, it was not to be.  The first lady was joined by another person from outside, which led to an apparently intense discussion over what I can only assume was what her boyfriend had said last night.  Shortly before an international crisis broke out, we were finally welcomed to Niki airlines and invited to show our boarding passes.  By that time, everyone just ran up to the door and jumped in.

The flight was uneventful, but Joern and I knew that we would have to run through the airport to make our next flight.  I truly believe that a team of engineers and architects feverishly work together to determine the exact geographical opposite end of the airport so that airlines know just where to schedule connecting flights.  As Joern and I galloped down this carefully pre-planned path, awkwardly trying to keep our multiple bags from falling off our various extremities, I heard our names over the PA: “…Wendelken, would you please come IMMEDIATELY to your gate, you are delaying our flight.”

That was it.  I marched right up to the gate and screeched “It was the Italians who delayed your flight!”  I thrust my ticket forward, feeling justified in my actions.  The attendant looked me up and down and replied “I’m afraid that bag won’t fit in the overhead bin, you’ll have to check it.” 

We were home at last.          

            

 

Day 186: There’s no better wingman in the kitchen than a squash.

Today I really felt the first signs of autumn, and to my surprise I enjoyed it entirely.  Normally at this time of year I’m browsing the fall collections of clothing stores in flip flops and a tank top, wondering if the fluffy jackets and scarves are some kind of cruel joke.  I remember one October in Raleigh where we went to pick pumpkins at an apple orchard.  It was 97 degrees outside.  We just couldn’t really get into the spirit of it all. 

Today our high was 20 C, which is about 68 F.  The air was cool against a bright blue sky, and there was a little hint of woodsmoke in the air.  It’s still a bit early yet, but something about the beginning of the fall season is just exciting to me.  I always feel that there is so much potential for adventure, and while it does happen in Raleigh, Thanksgiving has usually come and gone by that time.  This year, the pictures on the calendar will actually bear correspondence to what’s happening outside.  I find this novel, and very appealing.  Please remind me of this in February as I perform the delightful “Are my toes still attached to my body?” daily check. 

I stopped by our local Fruit and Vegetable stand, and on a whim bought a huge pot of bright orange mums.  I’d already bought a pumpkin a few days ago, I just couldn’t resist it.  Today was the perfect day to use it.  It wasn’t the carving type for Halloween, but a real honest-to-goodness, this-is-food kind of pumpkin.  I decided to make a soup, as I also had to try out my new immersion blender.  First things first, I needed to chop this baby up.  My pumpkin was bright orange (think Cheetos, but in nature), small, and a little knobbly in some places.  It was adorable.  It had no intentions of being chopped up.  I got the seeds out without much of a fuss and rinsed and set them soaking in saltwater.  When it came to cubing the pumpkin so that I could make it into food as God intended, it was a different story altogether.  I’m pretty sure I’ve split wood softer than this pumpkin.  Leah, it was like that Butternut Squash we made, but harder.  

Two hours and a couple of minor lacerations later, I had my pumpkin right where I wanted it.  It actually turned out to be a lot more than I was expecting, so I packed up the extra and stored it in the freezer (I know I can’t get back to it for a couple of weeks).  I then got on Google for suggestions on how to make pumpkin soup.  I’ve never made it before, but I had an idea of what it should be like, allowing that I hadn’t really thought about it beforehand and had limited ingredients.  So here’s my basic, very simple soup recipe: 1 liter of vegetable broth, 3 cups cubed pumpkin.  Put in pot.  Season with the herbs on my windowsill (thyme and parsley), and then go into the pantry and add things that smell good (paprika, garlic, pepper, I think) cook until pumpkin is soft and then blend!  I must say, my immersion blender is amazing.  Then add crème fraîche and stir, and eat it!  It was amazing.  I added toasted pumpkin seeds and a bit of parsley on top just for looks. 

If you aren’t a big squash person, try it anyways.  Any of them.  Just grab the strangest-looking thing you see and go for it.  They are pretty forgiving as a food, and they have so much versatility and flavor- you’ll look good as a chef, every time.  People who eat squash say things like ‘complexity of flavor’ and ‘sumptuous’ and they will attribute it all to your culinary skill.  There’s no better wingman in the kitchen than a squash.  Plus they’re good for you, with vitamin caro-plex stuff I’m sure.  Anyways, that was my fall day.