Archive for the ‘life in calabria’ Category
Top 10 Things I Miss from the States
Expats are often asked what we miss most about our home countries. For me, home is the United States, affectionately called “The States,” and as you may have guessed, there are a lot of things there that we just don’t have here in the Bel Paese.
Some of them I most certainly can do without (see yesterday’s post for an example), and there are always the obvious answers like “hugging down my niece and nephew.” But aside from friends and family, here are the:
Top Ten Things I Miss From The States
10. Comedy. I love me some Aldo, Giovanni, and Giacomo, but nothing and no one can replace the daily dose of Conan, Dave, and Jon that I’ve had to learn to live without. Thank goodness for Youtube. They’re starting to do their own version of SNL here, though. It’s…um…interesting.
9. Diet Coke. There’s some concoction here called “Coca-Cola Light.” Same kind of swirly writing on the bottle, but someone forgot to share the secret recipe. On the bright side, I don’t drink soda any more, but that would all change if the real Diet Coke (or Dr. Pepper, Mountain Dew, or Sunkist) made the leap.
8. Fast food. I’ll admit it. I miss the occasional Wendy’s bacon double cheeseburger or Chick-fil-A’s chick-n-strips with Polynesian and Honey Mustard Sauces. There is a McDonald’s near me, of course, but I’ve only eaten there once in three years (tastes pretty much the same as in the States, if you’re wondering). In this entry, I’ll also throw in ethnic food generally–Chinese, Greek, Indian, Thai, whatever. I don’t live anywhere near a city, so it’s rough going. But I know a good Italian place….
7. Ice. No, not on the stuff on the road–the stuff that makes our drinks refreshing. Many Italians are averse to anything either extremely hot or extremely cold (interferes with digestion!), so it’s quite a chore to find ice in public places. Making it at home, of course, is no biggie so long as you can find ice trays or the strange little bags that are perforated in circles for just this purpose.
6. Cheddar cheese. Go ahead and tell me that I live in the land that makes some of the best,most delicious cheeses in the world–mozzarella, ricotta, provolone, pecorino romano, parmegiano reggiano. I know, and I love them all. But what am I supposed to put on chili or nachos? Uh huh. Now you understand. But then again, there’s no sour cream here either. Tragic, I know.
5. Peanut butter. They just don’t do it. I don’t know why. They have peanuts, and they make Nutella, so it seems like a logical leap to me. Oh, have I explained the dangers of using American logic in Italy yet? Take this as your first warning.
*Updated to add that I have seen peanut butter here–for 5 euros for a container smaller than my hand.
4. Professional & College Sports. Major League Baseball, NFL, and March Madness are the big three for me. Yes, there’s “football” here too, and I can enjoy a match every now and again (say, for the World Cup)–but there’s nothing like calling off work just to watch a whole day of college hoops. That’s some good stuff right there.
3. American coffee. By this, I mean, you know, Folger’s, Maxwell House, nothing fancy. Again, I’m quite aware that Italy has some darned tasty caffè (take a glance at my blog title if you doubt how much of it I drink), but every now and again I just want a regular ole’ (biiiiig) cuppa. Preferably in a thermal cup that I carry with me while walking. *sigh*
2. Regular, lined notebook paper. This is a weird one, I know, but as an old-fashioned writer, I treasure old-fashioned notebooks. I hanker for just one Mead Five-Star (turquoise blue cover, if possible). Here the children write in booklets that contain what we’d call graph paper. I suppose this is good for penmanship, but the last time I used graph paper, I was plotting points, and that didn’t go so well.
And the number one thing I miss from The States:
1. U.S. Customary Units. These are things like inches, feet, pounds, ounces, Fahrenheit. Remember in 4th grade when your teacher told you that the Metric System would be all the rage, and you’d be left in the dust if you didn’t learn it? Yeah, I didn’t buy it either. In the words of Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman”: “Big mistake. Huge.”
Now I’m not going to say that this is a Christmas Wishlist per se, but if you happen to have an “in” with a certain jolly fella in a big red suit, whisper a lil’ something in his ear, would you?
Because I could *really* go for a Dunkin’ Donuts’ coffee, extra cream, no sugar right about now.
What’s Cooking Wednesday: Borlotti Beans with Tomatoes, Garlic & Basil
“Are you cookin’ beeeeeans?”
Anyone remember David Letterman’s obnoxiously saying this over and over? Well, it was funny, I swear.
Today, amici, the answer to the title question is–YES! I’m cookin’ beans! And you can too!
And yes, I’ll stop with the exclamation points.
Inspired by Shannon at Tales From the Fairy Blogmother, we’re starting a little something called “What’s Cooking Wednesday” around here.
When I told P this, his eyes grew wide and he ran off a quick list of future featured dishes. He’s an excellent cook with a passion for (mostly Calabrian) food, so you won’t be disappointed. I’m only sorry I didn’t take a picture of his “Linguine agli scampi” (linguini with prawns) the other night.
Must…think…more…like…blogger.
So, because he told me I can only do paesana recipes (wonder how long *that* will last), today’s is P’s mom’s Borlotti beans with tomatoes, garlic, and basil. Only a few ingredients, but do set aside a couple hours’ cooking time.
For a primer on today’s featured bean, check out Darla’s entry, conveniently titled The Borlotti Bean. As Darla writes, these are late summer/early autumn beans, but lucky for me, I have a suocera (mother-in-law)* that freezes in-season treats and then passes them to us just when we’re craving them.
Borlotti beans with tomatoes, garlic & basil
(serves 4)
- 2 lbs. of Borlotti beans
- 6 medium cloves garlic (leave whole)
- 6 plum tomatoes, chopped roughly
- 1/4 cup basil leaves
- 4 tablespoons olive oil
- peperoncino (hot pepper flakes will do)
- salt to taste
1. Shell beans and place in cold water. Bring water to a boil, and leave beans there for about 5 minutes or until they are about half-cooked.
2. While the beans are in the water, peel the garlic, wash and chop the tomatoes, and wash the basil leaves.
3. Drizzle 2 tablespoons of olive oil in a saucepan large enough to hold the beans (or, if you’re going hard core paesano/a, a terra cotta pot), and add the garlic, tomatoes, and basil. Also put in some peperoncino if you’re feeling spicy.
4. Remove the beans from the water with a slotted spoon (or otherwise drain so that you reserve the bean water) and place in the saucepan.
5. Add a cup of the bean water or enough so that they are covered.
6. Set on low heat and stir every now and again, but not too roughly or you’ll be a bean breaker. If you see the mixture is getting too dry and the beans aren’t done cooking yet, add more pasta water as needed. The beans should take about an hour and a half to two hours to cook through.
7. After about an hour, add the other 2 tablespoons of olive oil and salt to your taste. The sauce should be thick when done. When you are ready to serve, drizzle some fresh olive oil directly on top.
8. You can also garnish with fresh sliced red onion–and of course this is to be enjoyed with fresh Italian bread.
Buon appetito!
*Note that it is common in Italy to begin calling your partner’s family your in-laws as soon you’re a couple. Of course, they also refer to an exclusive couple as “engaged” whether or not there’s a wedding in sight. Are you sensing a whole entry dedicated to this system at some time? Points for you!
Conquering Italian Bureaucracy: Getting My Carta d’Identità
Ah, Italian bureaucracy. Didn’t take long to get me on this subject, did it? But it’s actually not a criticism! If you’ve got a pen handy, mark this down, as it’s probably the only time you’ll see me happy about something involving a comune and official stamps.
Yesterday I finally got my carta d’identità, the Italian ID card. This marks the end of a long journey to Italian citizenship — dual citizenship actually. So I’m allowed to have two citizenships because of a neat little thing Italian bureaucrats call “jure sanguinis,” or law of the blood.
No, there’s no organized crime involved. Geez, why you always gotta go there when blood and Italian are mentioned together? It just means that when the Italian bloodline is intact, i.e., no one has renounced his/her Italian citizenship before the next in line was born, Italian citizenship carries on down.
For me, it was from my great-grandfather, grandmother, and father–and yes, it required a lot of paperwork. Birth, marriage, death, and divorce certificates, and then a two and a half year wait. But now it’s done, and I’m legal here. Finally.
So, to celebrate, I’ll share my first photo. This is the view of the Ionian Sea from my house in a village of just 300 souls–most of whom remember American soldiers coming into the piazza and handing out chocolate to the children to close out World War II.
Welcome/Benvenuti!
Well, once again I’ve done it the hard way. Instead of easing myself into this whole thing, using a basic Blogger template, I’ve gone and found one on my own–only I have absolutely no idea about html thingies and whatnot. So this has been a fun past couple of hours!
But back to the basics.
I’ve been sitting on the sidelines for far too long on this blogging thing, but it wasn’t entirely my fault. I’ve been living in a medieval village with shoddy Internet access. We’ll call it “dial up.” I put off even getting it in the house for a while, but finally decided I needed to keep in better touch with all my English speaking friends, and so, I got my very own phone with my very own line. Well, it’s really more “ours,” as it is under P’s name.
And who’s P you Nosey Roseys are surely wondering? I’ll spare you the gag-me-with-a-cucchiaio cutesy nicknames and just leave it at this: he’s my beau. A year and a half and counting. He speaks no English so the chances of him happening upon this blog and discovering what I’ve written are none to none. Although pictures are fair game.
No matter, though, as I’m a good fidanzata, I think, and I’m not one for airing dirty laundry. In fact, I hate hanging out clean laundry–and apparently I don’t do it correctly anyway–but that’s a story for another entry.
Ooh! Material! I have some!
The only other thing I’ll mention now is that I’m a writer, and that was the main impetus to start up this bad boy. If you want to get right down to the pit o’ the peach (90210 fans, I know you caught that!), I’m just jealous that other aspiring authors get all kinds of valuable practice and feedback every day while I just talk to my computer. And he never answers. Stronzo.
Hey, does it annoy you when people throw foreign words into their conversations? Sorry about that. It’s kind of hard to only think in one language now, so I like to believe that I’ll be giving my readers incentive to learn some Italian. And you know, if you’re planning a trip here, “stronzo” ain’t a bad place to start.
So, folks, I’m in. A joiner at last.
Now let’s play nice.
Michelle Kaminsky is an American attorney-turned-freelance writer who lived in her family's ancestral village in Calabria, Italy for 15 years. This blog is now archived.
Calabria Guidebook
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