I did not sleep well last night. As usual, the stress of having to leave had me tossing and turning all night. I packed the extra bag I bought. It weighs 49 pounds. Mostly books. Now I know I didn't drink enough water on Tuesday. I had a busy day and let myself get dehydrated.
This morning at 9 Elisa and I drove to her house in the Tuscan hills. The dogs greeted me as a friend. Her wolf wanted to jump up and give me a kiss. Her jump was not aggressive at all, but a very light tap.
She told me about her new work adventure. On Jan 3 she is opening her own tiny shop near the train station. I believe it will be close to the bus terminal where those big blue busses leave for local trips. A great location to be near the tourists and she will be her own boss.
We talked about her background. Apologies to you Elisa, if my facts are not totally accurate. When she was enrolled in liceo (upper school), she began taking trips with school programs. She realized that traveling opens the mind. Her mother, like mine, has always been a little in awe of Elisa's traveling adventures and her thirst for learning about other cultures.
Have I mentioned we were only speaking in Italian? It's been an incredible experience, which became even more amazing today!
I agreed with her about the idea that travel enriches us and makes us better people. As Alessandro told me, many older Italians have not and do not have an interest in traveling. They also tend to have rather closed minds and live in a small vacuum.
Elisa spent time in Africa, where she learned another language. She returned home realizing that people living in both Italy and Europe have so much to be grateful for. In Africa, it's a struggle to just survive.
She traveled a lot for ten years, learning languages as she went. We have both used our travel adventures to be more than just tourists. Yes, the famous sights are wonderful, but paired with historical context and cultural awareness, it's an on-going education.
She studied at the University level. Having a degree is not a guarantee for finding work. She worked in restaurants during her college years.
She spoke about how she decided to use her interests along with her education to work in the tourism industry. It's not an easy market. She has friends who don't see the opportunities she imagines and then finds.
She began talking about the University again. One of her professors suggested she use the internet to her advantage. At that time, the internet was just coming into use in Italy. It was an idea ahead if its time, to use the Internet as a marketing tool for tourism.
This was about eight years ago. She was talking and suddenly I lost the thread of the conversation. Was it possible??
I refocused, but now I had to interrupt her. Your professor? You went to University here in Firenze. Oh yes. So, I asked did you know Professor Alessandro Trojani? Oh yes.
I told her, her Professor Trojani was my Alessandro. She said, I wondered about that, but you never said his last name.
And the man who talked about the internet, was him? No, another man. 'A bearded professor?' I asked. Yes.
Ahh, Alessandro's trusted colleague. They shared an office and computer equipment. They both taught Computer Science. The same man who wept at Alessandro's memorial two years ago at the University.
It's a small world, we agreed. But even stranger, everyone I know in Firenze had some connection to my loving Alessandro. And now, a new friend. Alessandro always urged me to believe in an eternal love, which never ends. Even during his last phone call, 4 days before he passed, he told me not to worry, that he would always be with me. True love never ends. We still have a connection. He continues to send me affectionate signs of love.
So today, I cooked with Elisa, my tireless began to disappear as I drank lots of water. I refilled my bottle with her kitchen tap water. There is nothing better than fresh water in Firenze.
Today we made three delicious things: minestra di ceci (garbanzo bean soup) la trippa and focaccia to eat with both.
The soup was quick and easy to make. Since we used canned beans, the soup was ready in 30 minutes. I can use this recipe as a quick after work dinner.
She poured olive oil from a larger industrial sized tin into an more practical older straw encased wine bottle.
She offered me a piece of castagnaccio, an interesting dense cake made of chestnut flour, olive oil, rosemary and pine nuts. No sugar or honey! I've had this before, but hers was much better. I'll have to reconsider making this again. She told me it's only made in the fall, with fresh chestnut flour.
Most of these tasty recipes evolved from peasant cooking or cucina povera.
In past days, people knew to use ingredients in season. Elisa said salt is not usually added to soups because if the vegetables are fresh, the taste comes from their healthful heartiness and therefore salt is not needed. We took the soup off the fire and blended it. We taste tested it. No salt was needed. The soup is done for now. Later we will add egg pasta. Our focaccia dough is rising in the closed cool oven, with its light on.
We then started the trippa. Like many recipes, it starts with odori, equal parts of carrots, parsley and onion, sauté in olive oil. Trippa calls for garlic and rosemary. Cut garlic clove in half and crush and remove the green sprout in its center. It's not agreeable with the stomach. Using the palm of your hand, crush the garlic. Crushing with a knife breaks its fibers.
After the sauce simmered a few minutes, Elisa removed and discarded both the still stemmed rosemary and the garlic. We punched down the focaccia dough and returned it to the cool oven.
She washed the trippa thoroughly, mentioning it was important to buy it from a reputable macellaio. Because of its strong odor, she simmered it in water with added red wine. This removes some of the strong taste.
After draining the trippa, she added it to the sauce and let it simmer while we completed fixing the focaccia.
I noticed a bag of black Tuscan kale (cavolo nero) on her counter. Mentally, I remind myself, cavallo means horse and cavolo is cabbage. Those two words are not filed correctly in my brain!
This evening, she will steam the cavolo just as we did on Tuesday, then layer it in a pan with bits of butter and parmigiano reggiano cheese and bake it. Other vegetables can also be prepared in this manner. Yumm.
With the focaccia in the oven, Elisa lightly crushed two servings worth of egg based tagliatelle into our soup. We returned the soup to a low fire and cooked for a few more minutes.
At 12.30, with everything cooked, we were seated at the table, enjoying our morning's kitchen work.
She decided to cut a pomegranate (from her father's property) for the parrot for its noon snack.
All morning her parrot had been squawking 'you hoo' and every once in a while I answered with the same. I didn't really pay attention that it had gone silent. We now had an emergency because the parrot had scratched itself and there was blood all over it's perch. The bird is very tame. Elisa interrupted her lunch with apologies and immediately took the parrot it into the bathroom to apply medicine to the wound. She told me parrots are extremely susceptible to infections which kill then pretty quickly.
Again with apologies she returned to the table. I felt there was nothing I could have done, but show my appreciation for her cooking. I had continued to eat my lunch.
With the parrot back in its cage, we had a discussion about parrots. I didn't realize how intelligent they are. They can distinguish colors and shapes and love to solve simple puzzles. Here in Toscana, some escaped domestic parrots live in flocks the wild, just as they do in Southern California.
We cleared the table and as she washed out the glass jar which had contained garbanzo beans, she noted the jar would be used to make fresh jam, using fruit from her father's land.
I envy and admire the lifestyle in the Tuscan countryside. The distance into town is drivable but these curvy narrow roads are dangerous. She must always be alert to her surroundings and on-coming traffic. She told me of an accident her friend had on his moto. He was able to save his own life by using his belt as a tourniquet around his damaged leg. He was taken by helicopter to the hospital where he lost part of his leg. He now wears a prosthetic leg.
As Elisa drove me back to Firenze, we said our goodbyes. I really hope we keep in touch.
I walked straight to the Vodafone store to see about my cellphone, which still gives me a SIM error message. I didn't have to wait for assistance. They looked and said it was still possible to save my number. They did some programming and told me to come back in a hour.
Since another Feltrinelli bookstore was close-by, I browsed their books for a hour.
At 4pm the Vodafone clerk told me the phone was fixed! I just needed to pay them 5€ to put some money on it. Later, in the USA, I can use the internet add money to to it to make sure it stays current. With two reboots, the phone was working. I called my family in Cremona to let then know. I was able to retain my original number, phone directory and all the text messages.
I spent the evening waking and enjoying the moment.
I stopped at Venchi to buy a hot freshly made crepe.
I passed a scarf cart and stopped to just look, really. The sweet girl was an excellent sales person. I bought a wool scarf. I have two at home, but not this color. I love the way they drape. 18€, 100% wool and made in Italy. How could I resist, when she offered it for 12€?
On to Ponte Vecchio and Conad grocery where I bought milk, last minute chocolate gifts and a chicken cotoletta alla Milanese for dinner. I placed everything in the paper book bag I was carrying.
When I returned to my hotel room, I found two gifts on my bed: a small panettone and a box of chocolate covered citron and a sweet note from Aessio and Assumi. This hotel has become like a home in Firenze.
My paper bag was torn, and the nicely wrapped cotoletta was missing! I hoped it had been found and enjoyed by someone. I had milk for dinner.
With only the night hotel key in hand, I was just in time to observe mass at the large church on Via Tornabouni. Eight well dressed older women were in attendance in the pews facing a small chapel. The rest of the church was dim and empty. I lite a candle and sat through the mass. I left my old good wool coat on the pew, hoping someone else can use it. Afterwards, saying goodnight to Firenze, I tucked in to sleep.
I am so fortunate to have found these loving friends and family.
I always regret having to leave.
Buona notte from Italy.
Sent from my iPhone
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