Unexpected Instructions

As you go through life you gain experience in many areas, and eventually in may endeavors you feel confident, even complacent. But occasionally you run into something unexpected where you long since felt there was nothing new to learn.

For me, that just happened opening a panettone.

Panettone is not unknown in America, but it definitely still has "foreign" status. For example, some people describe it as an Italian Christmas fruitcake. Well, yes, it does have fruit in it, but it is really a sweet, light bread. That's the "pane" part of the name. If you expect cake you will think it is dry.

Our family can make a standard 1 kg panettone disappear in seconds, so it is a good thing we are living where every corner grocery has pallets of them.

Tonight we tried a variation on the theme, a "Gocce di Pandoro", this one with cioccolato fondente (dark chocolate). :)

Here is the box:




And here are the contents:




Wait a second! What's that packet? Powdered sugar! Why of course! You can't ship and store the pandoro with the pictured powdered sugar on the bread. And of course it would be unthinkable to eat it without the powdered sugar. Therefore, some assembly required.

So of course I started by taking the pandoro out of the bag:




But when I picked up the packet of powdered sugar I got my second surprise. There were instructions, and not only that but they were instructions that made much more sense than the mess I was about to make. You leave the pandoro in the bag, pour the powdered sugar over it, and then shake it up.

It worked perfectly!




Now back to what we already knew how to do.

Slice:




Serve:




And eat:




For those taking notes, a 1 kg pandoro with dark chocolate serves more people than a 1 kg panettone because the chocolate makes it much richer. Leftovers for breakfast!

Michael

Bright Spot in the Rain

I glanced out my window to see how far dusk had progressed and caught an unexpected glow through the fogged-up glass. Something about the late-evening angle of the sun made this the brightest one I have ever seen.








My poor iPad couldn't handle the contrast, but I assure you all the colors were there in glorious clarity.

Michael

Is there a doctor in the house?

We've been mystified by the nameplates we've seen in local offices/places of business: it's almost universal that the title "Doctor" is used.  I finally broke down and asked our friend Antonio about this.  He laughed and agreed that everyone is called "Dr. So-and-so," but it took quite some time and work to elicit the fact that people with bachelor's degrees may be properly given the honorific.

He, in his turn, was surprised by how it works in the engineering field -- in the US, your title doesn't change regardless of your education (except in academia or those who can come across as a bit pretentious), but if you pass the engineering exam, you put "P.E." after your name.  In Italy, you are "Dottore Ingegnere" unless you pass the official exam -- at which point, you are just plain "Ingegnere."

I guess it's better not to be a doctor if you're in Italy?

Love,

Alexandra

Questura, Take 2

Yesterday Alexandra and I returned to Perugia to get my Permesso di Sogiorno. The first time we went we had wrong directions from Google Maps and missed the cutoff time for getting a numbered ticket. It was very much like showing up at the DMV for a Saturday driving test after they have given out all of the appointments for the day.

This time we knew where the Questura was, we knew about the cute little Mini Metro, and Alexandra had even found out about the bus that leaves from directly outside our apartment at 6:30 AM and gets us to the Mini Metro in Perugia in perfect time.

Success! We got a ticket!





Unfortunately that was all we got unless you count lots of hand waving, rapid Italian, and exasperated expressions from the woman behind the glass. Two months of collecting paperwork have been insufficient even to start the process.

After much hard work on Alexandra's part it was established that additionally we need:

* A document from the Commune indicating that Alexandra's demographics are on file. Remember that this is my permission to be in Italy and she is just my sponsor.

* A document from the Commune proving that she is an EU citizen. Apparently an EU passport, while required, does not prove citizenship.
* A translation of our marriage certificate. Clearly a certificate filled out in an Official EU language is unintelligible.

* A document indicating that I have my wife's permission to live in the our apartment. We already have a document from the surveyor about the size of the apartment and how many people are living in it.

* Photocopies of EVERYTHING. They cannot accept originals. We think that is because they don't want the trouble of returning anything, but it is very different from in the United States.

By the way, every one of those documents requires that you purchase a tax stamp. Italians may not collect income tax effectively, but they do know how to collect taxes for every official service provided.

Michael

How we were stuffed before Thanksgiving

On Sunday, we all went for an outing to Orvieto.  Since there were 9 of us, we took my (sweet!) car and my parents' rental station wagon.  My car left a wee bit earlier than the other, since it goes a bit more slowly.

Detail of the exterior mosaic work

First stop: Mass at the Duomo.  After ascertaining that there would be a Mass shortly, I asked the verger whether he was in need of an altar server (pointing to my friend Jeremy)...he responded with the equivalent of "C'mon!", took the kid by the elbow, and disappeared.  Jeremy

Larger shot

reappeared later wearing an alb and a smirk, while carrying the incense.  Somehow he always gets incense duty.  My mom didn't even recognize him until the recessional, when he walked right by her swinging the thurible.  My dad was congratulating himself for seeing Jeremy early on, but then confessed: he'd leant over to ask Michael where J was, and Michael pointed him out!

One of the columns; very reminiscent of St. Mark's in Venice...

Quick note on the Duomo: according to my mother's research, there was a priest in Bolsena during the mid-1200s who was struggling with the concept of transubstantiation (the idea that the bread actually turns into Christ's body). One day during the consecration, the bread started oozing blood and was clearly changed; he and his fellow priests did the obvious thing: they wrapped it up and took it (on horseback? Can't you picture them galloping along in their robes? Or maybe shuffling on the dirt road in their sandals) to the bishop...who happened to be in Orvieto at the time.

The bishop, quick to understand the miracle and anxious to celebrate, declared that a church must be built right on the spot...where he happened to be (as opposed to the spot where the miracle occurred; go figure). So, they built this beautiful cathedral which is dedicated to...Mary (?). I must confess that "Corpus Christi" struck me as a more appropriate name for this one, but they didn't ask me... They did house the blessed Sacrament in a gorgeous reliquary until 1980, but the interpretive sign didn't tell us what happened to it after that.  One wonders, yes?

And the whole thing!

The sweet men in my life

After Mass (and a quick coffee break!), my parents ambled off to see the above-ground sights, and we
went to tour Orvieto's underground. We had intended to see the wells (available at any time) but somehow were inveigled into doing the paid tour that had to be done at a particular time...5 minutes from when we showed up in the (incorrect) ticket office.  Since the tour was immediately available (and I'd purchased the tickets before realizing our mistake), off we went!

Drinking ciocolatta calda (yes, they make the word feminine for the drink)

It was fascinating.  Below Orvieto are over 1400 man-made caves.  They were dug out of the pozzolana and the tufo.  Pozzolana is a friable material that reacts well with lime and water to make a marvelous cement.  The tufo ("tuff") is a crumbly rock that (I think) hardens with air exposure (maybe water?) and was used extensively in Roman architecture because of its ease of working.

In the background is a 13th-century monastery

View of monastery sans view of cat.

Grinding stone for olives

Modern rush mat like one that
 would have filtered the oil.
You can just see the funnel-
like indentation in the rock,
 front center-ish.

Our tour guide in the oil
 pressing alcove.  There
 would have been a
wooden press + screw
 above the mat, and then
 the olive mush would have
 been mashed to express the oil.

Apart from the use of the raw material, the caves were rather useful locations: nowadays, they're used to store wine and cheese, because the consistent temperature in the caves is ideal.  However, in bygone eras, they were used for dovecotes (actually pigeoncotes, but I don't think that's a word) -- a great way to provide meat for the family.  Pigeons reproduce rapidly and need little more than space.

Overview of the underground oil facility

In World War II, one of the caves (below the hospital) was used to hide/protect hospital patients.  A large cave housed an olive oil production facility used during Medieval times: since olives are harvested during cooler weather, and olive oil requires warmer temperatures to ooze properly, the caves were a nice protected spot.  Prior to that, there is some evidence that this particular cave was an Etruscan temple or safe house.

The gable roof implies Etruria
The Romans didn't do gables.

An area for stabling animals

Some of the mine shafts.
The pozzolana would have come out
 as dust, and would have been
 carried in buckets. 

Wells also punctuate the caverns, going down hundreds of feet.  Many of them are very, very old (2000 BC old, based on debris found at the bottom).  One can still see the hand- and footholds that were used in their construction.  I have to say that I would not like to be one of the guys going up and down to dig to water: the hole is about 65 cm wide by 120 cm long. Seriously claustrophobia-inducing.

Looking up the shaft towards
 the surface, you can see
 the footholds.
Let's see: climbing down
 hundreds of meters using
 footholds carved in
crumbly rock...not
my idea of a good time.

The shaft looking down. 

I have pictures of the dovecotes below, because my photos are taking up more room than my text...

Time for lunch.  And, boy, what a lunch it was!  We went to Zeppelin (no, not Led) and met Lorenzo.  My parents' friends had had a meal here and had strongly recommended the place; by coincidence, Lorenzo was offering a cooking class in Atlanta shortly before my parents came to Italy -- so my mother learned how to make pasta by hand before she set foot on Italian soil! But the rest of us hadn't yet met this gastronomic paragon.

Sadly, James wasn't feeling well at lunch...

He brought dish after dish after dish after dish after dish (get the picture?).  After we'd eaten a full meal, the waitress broke the news to us that we'd finished the antipasto (appetizer course).  Um, really? Can I just take a doggy bag now?

With the great Lorenzo.

We had local cheeses and meats; the newly pressed olive oil (as in, pressed on Saturday -- the day before we were there); fresh bread; local pork with olives, tomatoes, and onions; artichokes; chicken roulade on a bed of artichoke something; oh -- pasta with truffles and turnips (the prince and the peasant of the earth, according to Lorenzo, and yes I'm getting out of order with the courses); and about 16 desserts.  My favorite (if one can have a favorite while feeling bloated) was the apple-filled crepe with candied nuts on top.  That was incredible.

After a wonderful lunch!

Having waddled out of Zeppelin (is there an explosion analogy to be drawn? One hopes not...), we went back to the Duomo (which I will call Corpus Christi in my head -- sorry about that) and enjoyed the special chapel to the right of the aisle.  Jeremy had had some wine at lunch and was rather inclined to giggle.  In his defense, among the sublime imagery there was also a wee bit of the ridiculous.  It was mostly sublime, though.  Lots and lots of gold and fresco and some stone inlay work (which always makes me drool).  Beautiful.  We stood looking until our necks hurt (we concurred that it might be looked at askance if we lay on the floor to look straight up), and then decided to leave Orvieto so we could get home before dark (the sun sets around 4:30 these days).

Too late.

Got home after dark, lay around like ancient Romans on our sofas, and then had a few nibbles to top us off before bed.

Love,

Alexandra

James looking sweet in the entrance to the caves located under individuals' houses

Steps from a house above

A view of our narrow corridor

Pigeoncotes!

The window was an open hole to allow the pigeons access

One of the nesting boxes

Much of the vegetation is evergreen, but we do have a bit of fall color!

The steps above are access to a house in Orvieto

A really impressive complex...

Circus Minimus

I couldn't resist getting tickets to the circus that's in town for the week...and it was well worth the 5 euros we spent on it in entertainment value!  It started with Ashley deciding that it was a little kids' event (which, truly, it was rather) and putting on the sophisticated 14-year-old-about-town-and-way-too-bored-to-be-here face.  And that was just in the parking area!

When we arrived at the entrance, I mentioned to a circus member that we had reserved tickets (I was thinking ahead; since we had 8 people, I didn't want to have a problem getting seats together).  This caused much consternation and calling across the grassy spot to others; eventually the ticket office opened and further conferences ensued.  I showed her my special discount ticket (one of thousands they'd been passing out all around Todi), and she tried to tell me that it was only good for one person.  I started gesticulating and complaining in broken Italian (and telling her it was ridiculous besides) -- and lo & behold, we got the special price for everyone!  But I still didn't understand what the reservations had done for us...

...until we entered the "big top" that is.  Second row center, we had our NAMES posted on 8 plastic chairs! Woo hoo -- reserved seating!  Which was a good thing, since they had at least 20% occupancy in the tent after we'd been sitting for a while.

The "big top" would more accurately be called a "small top" -- it held a small ring, enough seating for maybe 100 people, and a refreshment booth.  

The show started promptly 15 minutes after the official start time, and was a delightful round of the types of acrobatics & tricks one would expect from a circus performed by (possibly) two families.  

During the five-minute intermission, we took advantage of the opportunity to sample the cotton candy (who could resist?).  It was uncolored (as in, white -- it actually looked like cotton wool!) and unflavored -- it was sweet! and tasted lightly of caramelized sugar.  

After the intermission came the high point (and heavily advertised part of the show): the reptile exhibition.  With much fanfare (and cries of "ssssssserpenti!" from the ringmaster), "Indiana Joe" came out to the soundtrack of Indiana Jones, carrying torches which he eventually extinguished in his mouth.  He boldly opened one of the boxes and brought out...the cutest little alligator you've ever seen!  It was about 3 feet long total, and took itself way too seriously.  Once the audience was properly warmed up, they brought out the vicious 5-foot model.  

Next to emerge were some snapping turtles that were plunked in the middle of the ring, along with a touchy-feely opportunity with an African tortoise of some sort (we lined the ring and stuck out our hands as it was flown around the ring in Indiana Joe's hands).  

And then...with our hearts in our mouths...out came the snakes. Indiana Joe fearlessly reached into the trunk and pulled out a few 6-foot snakes, plunking them on the platform that had been artistically decorated with skulls and shrunken heads.  Finally, a snake was levitated around the perimeter of the ring so that we could all touch.

My mom, not fond of snakes, stayed home and read her book. Definitely an afternoon well spent by all.

Love,

Alexandra

The Scholar

This is James:




He is studying Greek history, in Italian, of course. All of his siblings are out at volleyball practice, and Alexandra is out shopping. He has been sitting quietly like this for the past 45 minutes making sense of his work with no help at all. He didn't even look up from his translation when I put a pack of Oro Ciok in front of him as a treat.

Michael

Hello, Spello!

We had an adults-only outing to Spello today, and it was absolutely delightful!  Spello is a small town that is mainly constructed with the local pink & white stone.  This may be the stone that's used for Saint Clare's church in Assisi; regardless, it's very similar in look.

The doorway of the first church we saw...

The detail work was lovely!

A beautiful day...

Part of the monastery at the top of the hill

The stone -- the pink was really gorgeous!

My parents looking cute!

This was in the window of a bread shop; unfortunately, they didn't sell the cute shapes of bread....

A palazzo, which used wood (unusual in this part of Italy, at least)

The well in the palazzo

The arcade was beautifully preserved & maintained

Isn't the dragon lamp ferocious?

My dad being a model in the doorway

One of the few glimpses of the valley

This appeared to be the doorway of a house, but the portico was a little shrine.

Fall has come, and with it new colors!

Hey, wait! I didn't know we were in Atlanta!

The town is adorable; an interesting feature are the many alleys that are beautifully filled with planters of all sizes and descriptions.  It brings such a soft touch of nature to a city that has very little green space.  Interestingly, the wall surrounds the town to the extent that there's really very limited opportunity to catch a glimpse of the valley; those that there were were beautiful!

Michael & I were speechless when we saw Pinturicchio's frescoes.  Google Pinturicchio and Spello along with photo, and you'll only get a sort-of idea of how amazing they were.  The chapel was so well-preserved and absolutely lush with fresco.  Pictures weren't allowed, but even if they were, there's no chance of capturing the intensity of color, detail, and so on.  A definite must-see.

After wandering around for a while, we had an amazing lunch.  I don't want to make you drool on your  computers, so I can't describe it further.  Suffice it to say that I don't really need dinner....

Our best to you,

Alexandra